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Chapter Text

Jaina Proudmoore watched the sun dip below the horizon in silence. The shifting of the deck of the Proudmoore below her feet was easily ignored with the ease of someone born to the sea.

The ship still felt damp. Not the obvious damp of any seagoing vessel, but the deep damp of something that had been claimed by the sea. Her magic had mended and restored the old battleship, but… the abyssal depths of the ocean never truly let go of anything.

“Beware, beware, the daughter of the sea…” she murmured to herself. “Beware, I heard him cry…”

That song had embedded itself in her brain. Like some vile parasite it had crawled in and replaced the repressed memory of the original version, and now she kept picking at it like a scab. Feeling the anger and despair and betrayal of it.

“I heard, I heard… across a moonlit sea, the old voice warning me… beware, beware… the daughter of the sea…”

Sailing from Kalimdor to the Eastern Kingdoms, even powered by magic, wasn’t the quickest of journeys. But that selfsame magic ensured that she had little to do… and no crew. No one to talk to. Nothing but her own thoughts.

Anger and despair and betrayal.

When was the last time she’d felt anything else?

Time and time again she’d tried to make peace. To find other ways forward than war. Some foes had to be fought, for sure, and there were no regrets for picking up her staff against the Scourge and the Legion. But she’d held her hand out to the Horde. Made friends and allies among the orcs and trolls and tauren, fought by their side time and again.

And then a monster had taken her ‘friends’ and showed her how little she meant to them.

Just the thought of Garrosh made ice form over the wood around her, a sheen of pale frost creeping out from her fingers that hungered for bloodshed.

We faced so much. So much death, so much destruction, so much loss. Time and time again… every time there was a chance for peace… someone snatched it away.

And now… someone else has taken up that mantle.

She glared at the horizon. The image of a red-eyed, grey woman fixed in her mind’s eye for a moment.

Oh, there was nothing certain. But with the defeat of the Legion… things should have calmed. There should have been no more need for soldiers. They could have gone home.

But they hadn’t. Reports from everywhere said that far from demobilising, the Horde was reinforcing their armies. Horde leaders were tight-lipped, no explanations offered. It was easy to see who and what was responsible.

The Banshee Queen. Sylvanas Windrunner. Violent, ruthless, untrustworthy. Taking a wounded world and seeing only an opportunity to strike at the Alliance. To once again plunge the world into open war. People would die over pointless feuds and grudges.

And she’d be standing there with them. With her own feuds and grudges.

She remembered an old saying that her old teacher, Antonidas, had been fond of when he’d been drinking and got into arguments about history. ‘War does not determine who is right, only who is left’. She remembered the other apprentices laughing about it, finding it a silly pun and little more, but… not her. She’d felt the scars of war. A dead brother, a distant father… and the older she got, the less funny she found it.

Antonidas had never laughed about it either. There had just been a twisted, dry smile.

Now it felt like a perfect epitaph for the tragedy they were headed towards. No righteous souls, no good against evil, not in any way that mattered. Just a brutal, bloody conflict until one side was destroyed.

And no real hope for anything better than that.

Tides… she was tired. Too tired to fight against the clear course of history any more. Not alone. And that was what it always came down to. She was alone. Anduin was a boy, Velen even more worn out than her… and the rest of the Alliance council were just as keen to distrust and hate as the Horde, it felt like.

So here she stood. On the resurrected symbol of her father and all of his hate, ready to take it to war. To ensure that all that was ‘left’... was the Alliance.

And after that…

She’d go back to being forgotten.

Something suddenly prickled the back of her neck, and she stiffened, tasting the swell of magic in the air. As the archmage looked around, seeking the source, a hole tore itself in reality, and a scrap of paper fell through into her hand.

A message? Frowning, she examined the scrap. The neat handwriting wasn’t familiar to her, but… that didn’t mean anything.

‘Archmage Jaina Proudmoore

Having heard that you are on your way to the Eastern Kingdoms, I thought you should be aware of an upcoming event. King Wrynn and Warchief Windrunner are overseeing a tentative meeting between survivors of Lordaeron and their Forsaken relatives later today, to be held near Thoradin’s Wall in the Arathi Highlands.

Needless to say, this has been kept generally secret, but it was felt that you should be made aware in case you wish to attend.’

There was an incomprehensible signature, followed by the neat letters ‘Sent on behalf of King Anduin Wrynn’.

“What?” Jaina said aloud. “Is he mad?”

A peaceful meeting with the Banshee Queen? The woman who many believed had left Varian to die? Whose record of using blight and necromancy to achieve her goals, whose utter ruthlessness in pursuit of victory extended to betrayal and murder, who was responsible for the current descent towards war… this couldn’t possibly go well. And yet…

And yet.

I don’t want to hope again. I’ve been let down too many times.

This isn’t even a hope.

It’s doomed before it begins.

Windrunner agreeing means nothing.

If I go, it’ll be to ensure that nothing goes wrong.

“Tides,” she muttered aloud.

No. Calm. If you go into this angry… you’re as likely to cause a problem as to solve one.

We’re simply going there to watch.

The Proudmoore slowed its path through the waves, the magic driving it fading, and then the anchor hurtled overboard at a whim. Jaina took a deep breath, conjuring a portal, and stepped through, leaving the battleship empty and silent, save for the wind and waves.

The letter, abandoned and forgotten, swept up into the air as a gust caught it, and then disintegrated into a curl of smoke.

***

“Remind me why we’re here.” The mighty bat the speaker was mounted on shifted a little with restless energy, as the pair looked out over the rocky valley before them.

“To extinguish the last doubts,” came the cold reply.

Nathanos Blightcaller rapped lightly at the stones of Thoradin’s Wall, watching the milling figures at the other end of the valley. The Alliance and their counterparts. “We both know that reconciliation between the living and the dead is impossible. This is a fool’s hope and naivete of the worst kind on their part. By playing this out… we guarantee that our own peoples’ resolve is hardened. And if this is a trap of some kind… we are vindicated in our plans.”

Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen, Warchief of the Horde, Dark Lady of the Forsaken, squeezed her gauntleted fingers around the reins of her mount for a moment with a squeak of leather. “And people call me cynical,” she replied. “Very well, Nathanos. We’ll play this out. Anya, Kalira, Cyndia. Have your squadrons ready for action. This threatens to be a long day, but we must be ready for violence.”

“Yes, Dark Lady!” came the chorus from her Dark Rangers.

A heavyset griffon began a lazy flight from Stromgarde Keep, and Sylvanas sat up. “The boy approaches. Time to go.” She jerked the reins, and the bat flung itself from the wall, wings spreading wide on an intercept course.

Complaining to her champion and her sister Rangers made her feel a little better, but… the truth was, she was in a poor mood. The meeting with her sisters was still fresh in her mind, and dealing with more of the living was the last thing she wanted to do after the bitter rejections and recriminations of that day.

Easy. Don’t let them see you bleed. Let the boy think all is well. When Teldrassil falls and the Alliance is on its knees… this can finally be all put behind us.

The griffon landed, and the familiar golden-haired figure of Anduin Wrynn dismounted, looking up towards her. She guided her bat down at a respectful distance, nimbly leaping from the saddle and stalking forwards.

“Warchief Windrunner,” Anduin said calmly. “Thank you for agreeing to this event. I hope that this can be the start of warmer relations between our two peoples.”

Sylvanas kept the disdain from her features, merely inclining her head. “We shall see, won’t we, your majesty? ”

To his credit, his expression didn’t shift at the sarcasm in her use of his title. “Given the tensions between the Alliance and Horde at the moment… do I have your word that you will not harm any member of the Alliance?”

Sylvanas’s red eyes narrowed slightly. Condescending pup. “You have my word that I and my troops will start no hostilities here,” she replied. If he expects a blanket promise, he’s a fool.

Anduin’s eyes narrowed in return, but he nodded with a sigh. “I, of course, promise that I and my men will do no harm to any member of the Horde.”

Sylvanas nodded carelessly. As though I can trust anything the Alliance would say. “Then that would cover the formalities, I think.” She turned to leave, but stopped as Anduin spoke up.

“One more thing. Sylvanas… the Broken Shore. Did you betray us? Did you leave my father to die there?”

The Banshee Queen paused, turning back to face him. Mildly surprised at the nerve of the question. But… it was a fair one.

“I gave the order that was needed to save the Horde,” she replied calmly. “Your father was doomed no matter what we did. There were simply too many demons.”

Anduin sagged slightly. Nodding. “...I believe you. Thank you.”

The darkfallen shrugged slightly. “It was a fair question. One you deserved an answer to.” She grasped hold of the saddle of her bat, ready to vault up again… when a portal ripped itself open in the air.

The figure that stepped through made her tense up, and a hand settled on her bow as she rounded on Anduin, eyes flashing. “You invited her here? Is the old wolf lurking as well?”

Jaina Proudmoore settled herself as the portal snapped shut, and threw the Banshee Queen an equally baleful look. But the woman took a deep breath, and replied in flat tones, “I’m not here to cause a fight, Warchief. Just to observe.”

Anduin glanced between the two women. “Warchief… there were no stipulations as to who would be permitted to attend,” he said reasonably.

“A woman who nearly drowned Orgrimmar and is one of the most dangerous mages in the world, with a known predisposition against the Horde, is a rather different matter than most,” Sylvanas growled. “I brought an honour guard. You brought one of the most dangerous weapons in your arsenal.”

Jaina’s eyes were like chips of ice, but her tone remained calm. “I am nobody’s weapon, Windrunner. And your side’s hands are hardly clean of death and bloodlust.”

She turned, glancing over the empty field, towards the little groups of people below the walls, ready to walk out and meet. “I just… wanted to see if peace is impossible. If there is any room for it left.”

Sylvanas paused, tilting her head. As much as the instinctive answer was ‘no’... to hear such a remark from a woman like Jaina Proudmoore struck an odd chord, in a way that no amount of niceties from a boy like Anduin could manage.

And even if her hope was already gone… hadn’t it been that very thought that had made her go with her sisters on that stupid trip home?

“I suppose we shall see,” she said curtly. “Very well, Anduin. Proudmoore. Let’s get on with it.”

Then she was in the air, her mount swooping back towards Thoradin’s Wall.

***

“Are you all right, Jaina?” Anduin asked gently.

Jaina didn’t answer for a while. Gazing silently down from the wall of Stromgarde Keep, to where the little figures of Forsaken and human were talking. A few had walked away, back to their own lines, but… some remained. Their frames awkward, tentative, but… civil. Even happy in places.

“Jaina?” he prompted.

She stirred, glanced up. “I’m fine, Anduin. I’m just… tired. I’ve been alone with my thoughts a lot lately. With the mutterings of war and the mobilisation of the Horde along the borders… I’ve just been getting ready for another pointless conflict. More pointless death. At least this one might be the last one.”

Anduin gestured to the field. “It’s not hopeless yet. Look at them. Common people, finding peace right there. Nobody wants another great conflict.”

“Tell that to the miserable bitch over there,” Jaina said, gesturing to the other wall. “She’s going to try something, I know it. I just don’t know what. If I’d had more warning, I could’ve made preparations.”

Anduin ran a hand through his hair. “In truth, I’ve had so much on my mind with getting all of this prepared that I don’t even remember when I suggested you be invited along. I’m sorry. It’s all been rather hectic. And maybe it’s doomed, maybe it isn’t. We’ve been as careful as we can.”

Jaina fell silent again.

At the end of the day, this wasn’t just about peace out there.

It was about seeing if there was anything peaceful left in her own heart.

Anything but hate and pain.

Anything left for her to do but fight. To follow her father’s path, and likely to die from it just as he did.

Beware, beware, the daughter of the sea…

Anduin was waving at someone down below. A smile on his boyish features, despite it all.

He’s so young. Even with all he’s been through.

I miss being young.

I miss not being a hollow, bitter thing.

“...something’s happening,” Anduin said suddenly, frowning.

The archmage’s attention snapped back to the present, her eyes automatically tracking towards the opposite wall. But then she looked down to where he was pointing, and saw the unmistakable shape of a couple of Forsaken heading towards Stromgarde Keep. A ripple of unease, and… one of the attending priests throwing back her hood.

“Listen to me!” came the faint call from below. “I am Calia Menethil, daughter of Terenas! I can help you!”

Jaina’s eyes widened. “What? Anduin… what the fel is going on? How is Calia alive?!”

But there was no time for Anduin’s answer. Now there was movement on the other wall, as a swarm of bats were rising into the air, and one in particular was streaking forward like a dark thunderbolt. Jaina knew instinctively that if she didn’t act… her almost sister-in-law would be dead. People, living and undead alike, were screaming and running. It was a massacre waiting to happen.

There was a flash as magic engulfed her, and she teleported onto the field, materialising in front of Calia and erecting an arcane shield. Her timing was impeccable, as no sooner did the spell catch than a vicious, black-feathered arrow pinged off of it, its aim towards Calia’s heart interrupted.

The bat came to a halt, flapping in mid-air, its rider a dark avatar of violence made manifest. Sylvanas drew another arrow, red eyes burning. “So much for merely ‘observing’, Proudmoore!” she hissed. “We come here in good faith, and you would seek to manipulate my followers into defecting under the banner of a dead monarch?”

“I had nothing to do with this!” Jaina called back, her heart pounding. Then she hissed over her shoulder at the quivering form of Calia, “Was this your plan? Did Anduin know?”

Calia shook her head. “No! It was… it just happened! Jaina, please, help me! They need rescuing, they need -”

“RESCUING?!” Sylvanas shrieked, her voice rising to a pitch and volume that reminded one of her banshee nature, the rage surging through her, dark mist seeping from her grey skin. “These are not your lands, and not your people, pretender!”

“They seek to escape from YOU!” Calia screamed back. “What does that say about your rule?”

Jaina felt a moment of bitterness. Even here. Even in the midst of trying to do a small thing, to make a small peace if a large one were beyond them… there was betrayal and recrimination and violence. Tides knew what would happen if Calia were to die here.

And yet…

This was on my side. Not hers.

Did she… not have a plan?

Could it be that despite everything… Sylvanas came here in good faith?

“Be quiet, both of you!” she barked. “Calia. You need to leave. Now.” And rather than let the woman argue, she ripped open a portal, and shoved her through, letting it seal away again, before turning back to face Sylvanas. “Please, Warchief… Sylvanas. Believe me. This was not what was meant to happen. Anduin would have told me if this had been planned. If this were an ambush, I would not have revealed myself so openly. This doesn’t have to end in violence.”

This will be the most stupid thing I’ve ever done.

“I came here to see if peace was impossible. And I think… on some level… so did you. Right now… that’s in your hands.”

And she lowered her shield. Standing defenceless, before an elf with her bow drawn and ready.

She’d fought alongside enough elves to know that if Sylvanas released the arrow, she’d be dead before she had a chance to react.

The red-eyed figure glowered at her. “Why should I believe you?” came the cold reply, seething with anger. And yet… hesitating. The black tendrils fading a little.

Jaina swallowed. “...hope. There’s no peace without hope. Lower your weapon, call off your troops, allow things to continue… and I’ll be your hostage for the rest of the day.”

Sylvanas’s eyes continued to bore into her. “And what would stop you from simply teleporting away?”

“My word,” Jaina replied. Out of the corner of her eye she could see movement of soldiers on both sides, but she didn’t dare look away. “And… I’ll give you a token. Something precious to me.”

Tides, why am I doing this? Why am I putting myself on the line again? Sacrificing myself again for some doomed hope at peace?

I’m such a fool.

Sylvanas finally lowered her bow, raised her hand. “Hold!” she called to the swarm of bat-mounted Rangers above her. “Hold your fire.”

Jaina remembered to breathe, and looked behind her as Anduin landed, his expression stricken. “Jaina?” he called. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. Somehow. Maybe. The day isn’t over yet. “I’ve agreed to be the Warchief’s collateral in return for the day continuing. You can pull your soldiers back.”

“...are you sure?” he asked, startled.

Jaina gave him a Look. Maybe you didn’t plan this, but you knew Calia was here. Damn it, Anduin. “It’s what needs to happen. I’ll see you later.”

“She tried to kill Calia -” Anduin began.

“She didn’t break the agreement first, your majesty,” Sylvanas drawled frostily. “Openly provoking defection like that was an act of hostility. I had every right to the woman’s life.”

“Nevertheless -”

“Inviting her here was stupid, Anduin,” Jaina snapped, running out of patience. “You should have known something like this could happen from concealing her. No matter what you intended. Now was this arrange in good faith or not? Do I leave with the Warchief or do we start fighting?”

Anduin slumped, nodded. “Of course, Jaina. I’m sorry. Just… be safe?”

Tides… he reminds me of Arthas sometimes. When he was young. Who Arthas could have been if it wasn’t for Terenas, and Mal’ganis, and… everything.

“I’ll be fine,” she replied. Tone softening.

Maybe this is why I’m doing this again. Sacrificing myself.

Because no matter how stupid it is… no matter how many times I get hurt… I can’t make myself just stand back and do nothing when there’s people I care about.

Time to fix a mess by making one of my own. “Well, Warchief?”

Sylvanas gave her a curt nod, jerked her head. “Climb on.”

Jaina gave Anduin one last glance, and then scrambled up onto the saddle of the massive furry monster. There might have been something fun about that, if it weren’t immediately followed by the prospect of having to be in the arms of a decidedly colder and spikier monster in order to not fall off.

Cold, armoured arms wrapped around her stomach, before Sylvanas jerked the reins. With a jolt, the bat rose up into the air, not seeming overly bothered by the extra weight, and Jaina clutched onto the arms around her on instinct.

To her surprise, Sylvanas didn’t smell rotten. There was definitely something earthy and dead, but it was preserved death, not sickly or repellant. The odd combination of the cold of a dead body with the movements of something alive did strange things to her instincts, but… the experience of getting that close to the Warchief was far from unpleasant.

“This isn’t over, of course,” Sylvanas drawled. “Calia’s interference was an insult.”

That cold, purring voice in her ear made Jaina shiver a little on instinct, much as she tried to suppress it. “She’s not a real threat to you,” she argued. “She was always a sweet, gentle woman, not interested in ruling or politics. A healer at heart.”

“Not a threat,” Sylvanas replied sarcastically. Her grip tightening slightly as the wind buffeted them a little. “Which would be why several of my men are now behind your walls.”

“I said no real threat,” Jaina growled. She’s stronger than she looks. That’s quite a grip. “What hope could she have of ever deposing someone like you?”

I ought to feel bad about talking her down like this, but… it was a foolish move. And it’s all true. Tides, I had no idea she’d survived… where has she been?

“She’s a symbol,” Sylvanas hissed. “But I said this day would continue without bloodshed, and so it will.”

Jaina let it lie.

She’s certainly not speaking as though she’s planning anything.

Still, as the bat touched down on Thoradin’s Wall, and she found herself surrounded by red-eyed elves on standby, she felt remarkably vulnerable. Even when she’d still been spending time amongst the Horde, when Theramore was young and thriving… it had been orcs, trolls, tauren. Very few Forsaken. They had been an oddity, an exception.

Here… she was very much in a different world. One where she didn’t belong.

“Keep watch,” Sylvanas ordered sharply. “Just in case of any further… disruptions.”

The rangers turned away, focusing on their posts once more. To her surprise, the Warchief jerked her head. “Follow me.”

Jaina followed in silence until they had reached an isolated part of the wall, away from the watchful sentries. As they came to a stop, she reached inside her robe, and plucked out the pendant there, offering it up. “My guarantee,” she said. Pushing away the feeling of discomfort at giving it up.

Sylvanas plucked it up, examining it. The Anchor of Kul Tiras glinting in the sun faintly. Her expression shifted, and she glanced at Jaina, seeming to guess at its significance. But she merely nodded curtly, pocketing the object.

And then there was silence.

***

The day was not going as Sylvanas had expected.

Oh, the betrayal, that she’d known would happen. But then Jaina throwing herself in the way, offering herself up on a silver platter… there had been a moment when Sylvanas had wanted to fire. She knew Nathanos would have told her to fire.

She had what she’d wanted. An excuse to galvanise the Horde, to unite her own people - and with Jaina dead, one of her greatest threats would be gone. An opening to the war all in her favour.

But… somehow she couldn’t make herself do it.

That talk about hope, as much as she’d hated it… it had made sense.

She saw Jaina looking at her sidelong, wondering why she’d dragged them away from the other Forsaken. She wasn’t entirely sure herself at first. But now that they were here… she suddenly wanted to talk.

And if this was the only chance she’d ever have to talk with this woman before they were enemies… there was one thing that felt like it had to be said. Just like she’d owed Anduin an honest answer before.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “About Theramore.”

Jaina’s eyes widened. “I… what?”

Sylvanas shook her head. “Theramore. Garrosh and I saw eye to eye about nothing, but that in particular…. War is war, but Theramore was a senseless target. One that barely even counted as Alliance, and only because he drove you there. It gained him nothing but a pile of corpses.”

She paused. “I know what it’s like to watch your home burn. Better than most.”

Jaina was silent for a long time, seeming a little stunned. When she finally spoke, it was in slow, tentative tones. “When Baine warned me of what was coming… he said there was dissension in the ranks. There were men of all races when the attack came, so I wasn’t sure I believed him, but… now I think about it, I don’t recall any Forsaken. So… I believe you, that you didn’t support it. Whatever your reasons were.”

Whatever my reasons were.

Sylvanas gazed out over the field. Towards where the meetings were nervously beginning again. “My reasons for everything I do have always been same. Whatever it takes to defend me and my people from anything that threatens them. It was once the quel’dorei, then it was the Forsaken… and these days, apparently it’s the entire Horde. But despite all the things that I’ve done… I’ve never been interested in killing for the sake of killing. Some lines should not be crossed.”

There was another long silence. This time it was Jaina who broke it.

“All the military buildup on the borders, all this preparing for war…” the archmage said slowly, warily, “Is that what’s driving you? Defending your people? Are you so certain that peace is impossible that you’d seek total war to remove us as a threat? You don’t seek power or death for its own sake?”

Sylvanas gave her a sidelong look. What are you fishing for, Proudmoore?

“If we could somehow broker a peace, a real peace, a lasting peace… something neither side could easily break… would you agree to it?”

The Banshee Queen looked away again, chewing this over for a moment. “Yes,” she said finally. “I would. Of course I would. Just because I don’t breathe doesn’t mean that I don’t tire of war. But there is no such guarantee.”

Jaina leaned on the battlement next to her, gesturing. The sun was starting to dip, and the people below were beginning to separate. “We got to the end of today without bloodshed. Against all odds. I was expecting treachery and violence when I came, Warchief. I was ready for you to turn on us. But… in the end, even when provoked, your ire was placated. You… didn’t have anything planned here, did you?”

Sylvanas gave a cynical laugh. “I didn’t need to, Proudmoore. I expected your side to betray us, and it did. I just… chose to forgive it for some reason.”

Why did I let this woman persuade me into mercy and peace?

“When I saw you teleport in, I thought it was the first sure sign that your side would engage in battle. But you put your life in my hands to forestall open war. I suppose… neither of us are what the other expected.”

Jaina breathed a laugh of her own. “I suppose not.” The woman sighed, rubbing at her eyes.

“You look like death warmed up, Proudmoore,” Sylvanas remarked dryly. “Not getting much sleep?”

“You literally are death warmed up, Windrunner, you can hardly talk,” Jaina pointed out wearily.

“I think you’ll find that makes me an expert on the matter,” came the swift response.

The archmage blinked at her, and then really did laugh, shaking her head. “...I suppose I can’t argue with that. Thank you for your… concern.” She sobered. “...Sylvanas… if I were to set up a meeting… on neutral ground… to try and set up some kind of lasting peace… would you attend?”

Would I?

To what end?

Well… I suppose I came here just to see how hopeless things were, and somehow… we’re still standing here, blades sheathed and unbloodied.

“You’d never get your side to agree to it,” Sylvanas said aloud, her tone cynical. “Anduin, perhaps, but he’s just a boy. The old wolf will do all he can to ruin matters.”

“That’s my problem,” Jaina said flatly. “Yes or no, Windrunner?”

Sylvanas reached into her pocket, offered up the Anchor of Kul Tiras. There’s a strange irony to offering her back the emblem of a warmonger as she asks for peace. “Very well. If you can get your side to agree, and if you can find a suitable neutral ground… the Horde will be there. I'll await your invitation with bated breath.”

Jaina slowly took the amulet back, glancing back towards the field. The two sides had separated, and people were stepping back into their respective strongholds.

The Gathering was over.

“But my opinion stands,” Sylvanas added darkly. “There is nothing that would hold our two sides apart forever. Too much hatred and old blood spilled. Prove me wrong if you can. Now… you’ve fulfilled your end of the deal, and I release you from my care. Would you like a lift back to your lines?”

Jaina slipped the amulet over her neck again, shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Goodbye, Warchief.”

The archmage’s staff glowed as she drew on her magic, but she paused to give Sylvanas one final look. “I’ll be in touch. Soon.”

Sylvanas gave a half-wave as the woman vanished from sight.

“Goodbye, Proudmoore,” she murmured softly.

***

Jaina settled herself as the teleport spell faded. The worried features of Anduin coming into focus in front of her, the High King still lurking atop the wall of Stromgarde Keep.

“You’re safe,” he said, relief flooding over his face. “How was it?”

“Unexpected,” Jaina said shortly. “Anduin, you owe me an explanation. If I hadn’t put my life on the line, we’d be at war right now, and it’s a minor miracle that Sylvanas didn’t bite.”

Anduin’s expression tightened. “Calia has been part of this from the beginning. She didn’t want her presence to be publicly known, worried that maybe it would give the wrong impression. She told me that she was recognised by one of the Forsaken, and he offered to defect on the spot. I believe her when she said that this was not her plan.”

“It was a stupid risk,” the archmage snapped. “A wild card like the heir to the throne of Lordaeron? They could just as easily have tried to kill her for being Arthas’s sister. And Sylvanas couldn’t see her as anything other than a political threat, not just to her leadership, but against her claim on Lordaeron! Anduin, you’re the High King now. You have to think of the big picture, about the political realities, not just the hopes of how things could be.” She pinched her brows, softened her tone. “...listen to me, lecturing you about reality given what I just offered to her.”

Anduin sighed, shook his head. “No… you’re right. I just… didn’t have it in me to refuse her. She doesn’t have a cruel or deceitful bone in her body. And it all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” He studied her for a moment. “What are you talking about? What you offered her?”

Jaina looked towards Thoradin’s Wall, where the little dancing lights of the Forsaken were beginning to disappear. “...she came here in good faith, Anduin. She could have declared war on the spot and slaughtered everyone. She didn’t. When I heard her speak… she’s cold, cynical, ruthless. But she’s just as tired of war as we are, only she doesn’t feel there’s any way to avoid it.”

Tides, when I put it like that, she and I sound so much alike.

“So… I asked if she would attend a peace conference. One last attempt to prevent the all-out war we’re heading towards. She agreed. She agreed, Anduin. Varian only ever humoured my attempts at mending the rifts between Horde and Alliance, but you… you’ve dreamed of real peace. Maybe, against all odds, with Sylvanas Windrunner as Warchief and you as High King, we can make it happen.”

Anduin was silent for a moment. “You heard Alleria talking the other day. She tried to reconcile with her sister and now all she can say is that Sylvanas is a monster. Are you sure that your brief time with her is enough to say that she’s trustworthy, Jaina?”

Jaina gave a bark of laughter. “Sure? Tides, no. I’m not sure about anything. But when the alternative is a war that will leave one or the other side, and probably both, utterly ruined… which would you prefer?”

The High King was silent for a time. Then he nodded. “...I can’t argue with that. And there was something about her when we met before. Her response when I asked about Broken Shore… it felt honest. I’ll get things together. I’m sure I can rally enough support on the Council to make this happen, no matter what the doubters grumble.”

Jaina slumped. “That’s all I ask. You do your part, I’ll do mine, and… hope that Sylvanas does hers. Now if you’ll excuse me… I need to go check on my ship.”

I still don’t have an answer for her question, though.

What could bind the Horde and Alliance together in something neither would break?

Maybe I’ll have an answer by the time we’re sitting down to negotiate.

If not… I don’t know how this is going to work.

Maybe I’m just wasting my time again.

Tides, please let this amount to something.

Just for once.

Chapter Text

It was a couple of days before everyone could be assembled. The rebuilding after the Legion invasion was taking time... but finally everyone was all together in Stormwind. Minus Malfurion, who was... druiding somewhere. As he often was.

"...and the goblins are firmly entrenched in Silithus at this point," Alleria was concluding. "Horde forces are redeploying and the conclusion from all my scouts is that war is brewing. I'm just not sure where."

"So much for peaceful overtures," Genn growled. "Your 'Gathering' clearly meant nothing, King Wrynn."

Jaina had been sleeping incredibly poorly. Her dreams filled with nightmares... But she had made sure she was rested and focused enough for this uphill battle.

"A single meeting won't erase decades of open hostilities." Jaina said from her seat at the table. The only question was how best to turn the tide.

"Nor will years of futile pandering, judging by your experiences," Genn growled at her. "Whatever progress you made with Thrall was promptly erased. I'm surprised that you of all people would be supporting a negotiation."

"The orcs are irredeemable," Alleria said coldly. "Every race here has lost much to the Horde, in all its forms. They left your own father to die, Anduin."

"Sylvanas swore that there was nothing she could have done, and I believe her," Anduin said, a tinge of frost joining his tone as well.

"The fact of the matter is," Jaina cut in firmly, "Everyone can see what's on the table. War is coming. And this time... It will be to the annihilation of one side or the other... Or both. And while there are those in this room who might personally be willing to die in that fight... Would you put your people to the torch as well? Sylvanas has opened up possibly the last chance Azeroth will have for peace. If we don't take it seriously then we're dooming the world to burn based on personal grudges alone."

Genn snarled, slamming his hand on the table. "There is no future while the Horde survives!"

"Proudmoore is correct," Velen said quietly. The ancient Dranei seemed like he'd give Jaina a run for her money in the tiredness stakes, and there were questions as to whether he would simply pass leadership on to others, now that the Legion was gone. "We must bind together. Let go. Move on."

"King Greymane, please see reason. This isn't about forgiving and forgetting... This is about a future where children don't have to watch their homes and cities burn." Jaina knew he'd be difficult... but had he learned nothing?

Genn's lip curled. No. No, he hadn't. He was a stubborn old man. "If peace couldn't be achieved with your beloved Thrall in charge of those animals, it certainly can't be with that rabid murderess in the throne."

"Perhaps you are too young to really grasp what we face," Alleria said, and the chill in her voice suddenly made her seem very much like her dead sister. "We blame Garrosh for Theramore, but how many followed him? Obeyed orders? Made the weapon? Betrayed trust? You threw the Horde out of Dalaran and quit the Kirin Tor when they were voted back in. You wear your father's necklace, a man murdered by orcs. You need to work out who you are, Proudmoore. Then open your eyes and see things as we do."

"The depredations of the Horde in times past were an artifact of the Legion," Velen countered. "Garrosh was moulded by that, by his bloodthirsty father."

"A man who turned to demons to slay Cenarius," Tyrande pointed out harshly. “And lest we forget, the undead were a tool of the Legion also. Sargeras may be gone, but his toys remain to threaten us. Alleria has a point.”

Jaina stood suddenly, voice icy. "Do not talk about my father, Alleria. You were not there. And speaking of not being there... How many times has the Alliance done the same? And not just to the Horde! To each other! And how many of our own were only following orders? How many stood by and let you defect from the Alliance and make decision after bad decision, Genn? How many followed Varian even in moments we knew him to be wrong? No one in this chamber is guiltless. We must try. Unlike Garrosh or Thrall, Sylvanas's top priority is her people, not a code. That gives us the chance to negotiate and reason with her and the Horde."

Anduin raised a hand, forestalling the surge of angry voices. "It's a new era," he declared firmly. "We have an opportunity, and I will not make my father's mistakes. Genn, Alleria, I'm not interested in your doomsaying. We will be prepared for war, but we will extend the hand of peace. A meeting in Dalaran will be suitably neutral ground. Does anyone have anything to say that is not declaiming the mere concept?"

Dalaran. She'd have to go back... but not to stay. Alleria was correct in a fashion. Jaina still needed to figure out who she was... still, that was no reason to dismiss her like a child. Slowly she sat again, and remained silent.

Light, she got sick of elves.

Shame she'd be dealing with a lot of them soon. Clearly she couldn't trust this to go smoothly just left to their own devices. No matter what speeches Anduin made. Genn looked furious, and Alleria not much better. Tyrande brooded in the sulky silence that only a night elf could manage, but nobody said anything.

'I await your invitation with baited breath'.

Jaina hoped Sylvanas was ready to start breathing again.

"We need to act sooner rather than later," She said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “The Warchief will not wait forever.”

Anduin got to his feet. "I'll get that letter drafted. Jaina, I know your relationship with Dalaran is... strained, but could I ask you to request that they host this meeting?"

It left a sour taste in her mouth, but she nodded, "I'll speak with them."

Among other things, it would mean seeing Kalecgos again.

And also Vereesa. Alleria would clearly be no help, but perhaps the youngest Windrunner would have some thoughts on Sylvanas? Vereesa had lost her husband on Theramore, and had backed her when she ejected the Horde from Dalaran... but she'd seemed more griefstricken than enraged. Alleria had mentioned that the three of them had got together recently...

***

The good news was that her exile from Dalaran was self imposed, in a fashion. Jaina wasn't barred from entry.

Once the meeting was adjourned she made a portal and left for the mage-city. Stepping out onto its streets was... uncomfortable. This place had once made her feel like home... now it felt alien. Her hood up, she kept her head down, heading for the violet citadel to seek an audience in the chamber she'd led not a month earlier.

The Council of Six. They'd been hard to tolerate even when she was leading them. The only members worth a damn were Khadgar and Kalecgos, and... there were issues and history with both men. Kalecgos likely wasn't even expecting to see her for some time, and Khadgar had been a ghost since the Legion's defeat. He was of the same breed as Alleria, too focused on one bugbear and failing to acknowledge the scope of the world.

She didn't remove her hood when the guards tried to bar her way, only looked up at them from under it until there was a spark of recognition. She didn't have to say anything for them to let her through. That was something at least...

Jaina pushed into the council chamber, pulling her hood back as the door closed behind her.
She was in luck; the council was in session. “...Jaina?" Khadgar said, bemused. "This is... unexpected."

Kalecgos was eyeing her quietly, sensing something had shifted. But the blue dragon kept his own council for now.

"I come as a representative of King Anduin Wrynn. The Alliance and the Horde are looking to have peaceful negotiations but need a neutral arena as a venue." She kept her face and tone neutral... but she did not look at Kalec. That was still a little too fresh.

Kalecgos had told Anduin that she'd return from her 'trip' more balanced and focused. He hadn't been entirely wrong.

There was a ripple of surprise in the room. "King Wrynn believes that such a meeting could take place in good faith?" one of the old mages said, surprised. Oh, they'd been eager to let the Sunreavers return... but the vote hadn't been out of any enlightened desire for peace. Just to reopen the old boys’ club and keep conflict far away. The more things changed...

"Both King Wrynn and Warchief Sylvanas are open to it," Jaina said firmly.

Khadgar glanced around the room. "I don't believe there would be any objections to such a thing. Although the Kirin Tor would handle security, of course. I for one would be keen to attend myself. The damage Sargeras caused to Azeroth was severe, and we must do all we can to repair it."

There were nods of assent. All agreed.

Well. That had been easier then she expected, "Anduin will be sending a formal invitation to the Warchief in short order. Thank you for your cooperation." She made the mistake of glancing at Kalec and averted her eyes to another face as quickly as she could.

"I'll inform the Alliance of your requirements. Good day." Jaina turned to leave. She still needed to see Vereesa.

She was heading back for the street when she realised that damned lizard was following her. "That was the last thing I expected to hear from your mouth," Kalec said wryly. "Did you deliver that message willingly?"

She sighed, stopping but not turning to look at him, "What do you want Kalec?"

"Am I not allowed to show concern for an old and... close friend?"

Her wall of ice relented. But only a little, "You are. I'm sorry." She turned towards him.... But still couldn't quite meet his eyes, "I wasn't expecting to need to come back here so soon. And yes. I delivered this willingly."

"I heard some rumours about what happened at the Gathering, but... I wasn't sure how much was true. Did you truly offer yourself as a hostage to Sylvanas?"

"I did." She crossed her arms a little defensively, "... She didn't have another play, Kalec. I kept expecting it but then that... incident happened and nothing came of it. She only reacted to what she viewed as a threat. She came in good faith."

"There's more than one way to approach something in bad faith," Kalec said softly. "Just... be on your guard, Jaina. Please?"

"I have very little left to lose anymore Kalec." She said in a quiet, dead voice. It was not a sentiment born from depression or hopelessness. It was one of conviction. Being alone on her father's flagship had left her a lot of time to think... Alleria had accused her of not knowing herself, and she wasn't entirely wrong. But no more could be learned from sitting on a ship and thinking about her life. She'd decided that when she'd asked Anduin to let her come observe the gathering. "And I have everything to gain. If these negotiations go badly... Either Sylvanas or I will not leave that chamber alive. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another stop to make."

Kalec let her go.

He meant well. But... he was still a dragon. And although he hid it better than most... that came with a certain amount of patronising.

They had gotten along so well but... Her time alone had led her to realize that while she'd happily have been his friend she'd clung to him as a source of comfort. Not because she deeply wanted him... She'd just wanted someone. That thought still twisted her stomach. That she'd stoop to that kind of thing. It hadn't been his fault but she couldn't help the irrational feeling of being taken advantage of in her time of weakness.

Vereesa Windrunner was right where she might be expected; in the entrance hall of the Silver Covenant. Talking with some visitors about something, maybe sending them off on some errand or other. Still, she shooed them away when she spotted Jaina, approaching with a small, tired smile. "Jaina. It's been a while."

The mage nodded with a faint smile. "I'd like to talk to you. Privately?"

Vereesa gestured to follow. "Come upstairs. There's a lovely view of the sea from the balcony up there."

The elf padded off silently. She might be the youngest and least skilled of the Windrunners... but that still put her in the top ten in the world as far as stealth and archery went, and sometimes it showed in the way she moved.

Before long they were gazing out over Dalaran, and the ocean below. "What did you want to talk about?" Vereesa asked. They hadn't interacted all that much, in the grand scheme of things, but... they'd both lost much in Theramore. And Vereesa had been a solid ally to her in the Kirin Tor from the beginning. The fact that she hadn't thought twice about the request for a private discussion said much.

There was some guilt here for Jaina... But not as much as elsewhere. Vereesa's husband had died to save her because he saw her as the future of the Kirin Tor... And then she'd left.

"How are your boys?" She asked suddenly, not in awkwardness but... She'd just remembered Vereesa's children. She wasn't even sure she'd seen them before. But... she suddenly wanted to know that they were doing alright.

The youngest Windrunner tilted her head. "They are well. Argumentative. They debate philosophy and politics, and I wonder what I was talking about at their age. Nothing so serious, I'm sure."

Jaina actually smiled a little, "I suppose they take after their father in that regard." It was good to hear... But she couldn't stall for too long, "I'm sorry I left so abruptly that I didn't say goodbye... But I need your help."

Vereesa shook her head. "I understood. I half wanted to leave myself. What do you need, Jaina?"

"The Alliance and the Horde are going to be meeting in Dalaran to try and broker a lasting peace."

Vereesa paused. Processing this. "This is about Sylvanas, isn't it?" she said finally.

Jaina nodded, "This is Azeroth's last chance to find peace before all out war breaks. I need every advantage I can to bring both sides together. I don't know your sister well and Alleria hates the mere idea of peace with the Horde... You're the only person who might be able to help."

Vereesa leaned on the balcony, her expression tight. But it wasn't the condemning hatred of Alleria. This was something... more complicated. "I'm not sure I know her very well either. Not any more." She glanced over. "The three of us had a reunion. A few weeks ago. We travelled to our old home, tried to work out if we could be a family. Mostly it ended with Sylvanas and Alleria screaming at each other."

Jaina frowned, "... I'm surprised she agreed to the Gathering then."

"I honestly think there might have been violence if I hadn't played peacemaker. Reminded them that we'd all made mistakes. I broke down in tears at one point." The elf sighed softly. "I was always the peacemaker. But they never fought like this before. They're both... hurting. Deeply. And they can't see what the other has gone through."

"That can be said of many." She said, somewhat gently, "Would you help me play peacemaker again? I don't hold the affection for Sylvanas that you obviously still do."

Vereesa was quiet for a moment. Sighed. "I'm possibly the only person in the Alliance who actually wishes they could spend more time with Sylvanas. So yes, I take your point. Not that this is a responsibility that I ever wanted."

"I thought I was done trying to fight for peace at all." Jaina looked out over the ocean, "I went to that gathering expecting to watch humans and forsaken either run or fall on each other like rats... But they didn't. It put some things into sharp relief for me... So I'm going to give this one last try. And if it doesn't work..." She looked down at the gauntlet on her hand clenching her fist a moment before releasing it. Took a slow breath. "I wouldn't even be contemplating it if she hadn't apologized to me. Petty as that sounds."

"Apologised?" Vereesa asked, puzzled.

"For Theramore. None of her own took part. I don't even remember any blood elves in attendance. But she still apologized for not being able to stop what she called a senseless attack." Jaina sighed, "She said she knew what it was like to watch your home burn."

Vereesa was silent for a time. "She helped me after Theramore," she said finally. "I approached her. During Garrosh's trial. I wasn't looking for comfort or support, but... rediscovering that I did in fact still have a sister helped me a lot."

There was clearly a lot she wasn't saying there. Some... secret about her relationship with the Banshee Queen.

Jaina frowned, "... Vereesa..." She paused. No. Surely not... "Were you the one who told Anduin Garrosh's food was poisoned? Did Sylvanas poison it?"

Vereesa looked up sharply. "How did you know about that?"

She almost laughed, "Anduin used to call me 'aunty'. He might be grown now but he has a habit of telling me quite a lot of what goes on in his life." She sighed, "... I can't even be upset really. I might have had even less trust in her at the time but I did agree with Sylvanas's sentiment that he should have had a quick execution rather then a trial. Especially after he escaped."

"Sylvanas... Sylvanas didn't try to poison him." Vereesa refused to meet her gaze. "She just supplied the poison."

Jaina looked up at her, surprised. Why would she be surprised though? Really? If it had been Derek or Tandred instead of Sylvanas and her in Vereesa's place...?

She put a hand on the elf's shoulder, "I understand."

Vereesa didn't react for a moment. "She offered me a place by her side," she admitted. "Ruling the Forsaken as sisters, together again. I was so close to accepting, Jaina. I would've done it. But I couldn't leave my children."

Jaina’s heart ached for the woman. "That was the right choice... But, in confidence, I understand. Not a day goes by that I don't think about my brothers, my mother... My father."

The quel’dorei sighed softly. Glanced over. "We played a game in that reunion. Just a stupid little one, a childhood game, really. But I keep thinking about it, because... I don't know what Sylvanas's play was. It's called 'one is a lie'. Tell three statements, one is a lie, the others have to guess. But she never told which was her lie." She counted on her fingers. "Sometimes she wishes she was alive... she's proud to be warchief... and she would never betray her sisters. And I honestly don't know which is the lie. It's been driving me mad."

Jaina considered for a moment, shook her head. "I don't know." But that did make her pause and think... And wonder if Sylvanas had stuck to the rules of the game or not. They could all be lies.... Or all true. Especially if she had failed to reveal them.

"She can't be trusted,” the mage continued after a moment. “But that doesn't mean she has to be an enemy. Perhaps in time those wounds can heal. The only way we'll know is if we can get both sides of Azeroth to agree to a peace." Somehow.

The elf finally straightened. "I told you all of that in confidence, of course," she said. "But... even if Alleria won't admit it, we're a family just as split as those who went to the Gathering. If there's a chance for peace... it's worth it. And if all of that helps you understand my sister any better..." She shook her head. "I'll offer what support I can. But it'll take more than me. I think Sylvanas does care for her family on some level, but… I don’t believe it would stay her hand."

Jaina nodded, "It's going to take a lot... Is there anyone else you suggest?"

"For what? Understanding my sister? Or working for peace?"

"More to the first." She admitted, “But I won't say no to any ideas you have on the second."

"I'll let you know if I think of anything. Or anyone. But we haven't exactly spent a lot of time on either matter over the last... decade or two," Vereesa said dryly. She paused for a moment, reflecting on just how long Azeroth had been war-torn, on how much had been lost. "Don't undermine Sylvanas's position in the Horde. She'll take it as a threat. And if she loses standing, then peace will be even harder to reach."

"Thank you." She pulled away, "I need to inform Anduin that Dalaran will be hosting the summit. I'll keep you informed."

"Goodbye, Jaina."

Vereesa turned back to looking out over the sea. Seemingly wanting to be alone for a while.

It was... a strange thought. That the woman so many would cast as a monster had such a devoted sister. Vereesa wasn't weak or easily led. But she'd put serious consideration to defecting from the Alliance to be with Sylvanas.

It was a somewhat alarming thought that Vereesa was willing to swap her allegiance that easily… alarming, and puzzling.

Jaina created a portal for herself back to Stormwind. She would linger on it later, she needed to sort out the immediate future first.

Chapter Text

The ensuing back and forth of messengers took nearly a week. There was evident resistance on both sides, and Sylvanas's snark and foot dragging did little to inspire confidence. But she didn't actively reject the proposed meetings, and soon enough details were finally settled in a fashion that both sides hated. ‘A good compromise leaves everyone unhappy’ as the old saying went. Horde and Alliance alike passed through the portals into Dalaran, eyeing each other with varying levels of hatred and distrust. At least Anduin was putting on an inspirational face.

The Violet Citadel now felt too small for the first time, crowded with the leaders of each race. Jaina, at least, had been preparing, her mind and body sharp but relaxed. Her eyes sought out Vereesa among the Covenant but didn't linger. She and Anduin had spoken extensively about this. Open with common grounds. These talks would likely last days assuming they didn't fall apart...

But first thing first, a show of good faith... And an attempt to bury a small grudge rather than tackle the large ones immediately.

"Warchief Sylvanas? Permission to approach and greet an old friend?"

Deference to the Warchief rather than striding over, which might cause alarm. But her eye caught Baine's to make it clear who she was speaking of.

Sylvanas's eyes flicked between them. Gave an uncaring shrug. "We are here to talk, are we not? I can hardly object to it now."

The last week had been hell for the Banshee Queen. Ensuring that her fractious and divided Horde could form a party line. Saurfang had been the worst. She was becoming convinced that he was opposing her at every turn out of spite, not beliefs. But she was here, and she had extracted promises that some things would not be discussed. That this was no time for divisions. Plans for an assault on Teldrassil were already looking solid. When this broke down… as she was sure it would… then they could proceed with little time lost.

She watched with cold interest as Jaina approached, though, and the massive tauren raised a hand in greeting. Baine... Baine she respected in a way that Saurfang would never earn. He was like her. A practical defender of his people.

And if she lost Baine's support... well, that could lead to bad things.

"Jaina," Baine rumbled. "It has been a long time."

Jaina nodded, "It has." She stepped forward and held out her hands in offering, just as Cairne and Thrall had taught her a lifetime ago. She hadn't known Baine deeply, but Anduin’s intuition was usually good, and the friendship sparked between the two young men might yet be the best hope they had. "You look well."

Baine just gave an amused huffing sound as he returned the gesture. "Well enough." He cast a glance at Sylvanas. "We live in uncertain days," he remarked cryptically. "But I am pleased to see you again."

"As am I, Baine."

And the mage was, oddly. Baine had been in her city, fighting under Garrosh, he'd wounded Pained, his Tauren had battled her own people before the bomb fell... But she couldn't find it in her to hate him.

Even if she had to swallow a pint of distrust and anger to manage friendly rather than just civil.

While the extremes might have been different, Anduin had once had to follow his father's commands as well, and even now Baine was still young. Suppose Anduin had been in a position of needing to follow Greymane...

"Thank you, Warchief, I won't hold up our talks any longer." She removed herself to the Alliance side of the table and sat to the left of Anduin's chair, "Shall we begin?"

There was a pause, then Anduin rose to his feet. You could practically hear the stirring music preparing as he readied himself to launch into a stirring speech to unite all present in the desire for peace, truly showing himself as the king he was born to be -

"Save it, boy," Sylvanas said harshly. "I came here to dig into the heart of the matter, not be read trite prose."

Anduin looked mildly offended at the suggestion that he had to read his speeches, but mostly he looked off balance at the interruption. Stumbling for a response.

"Let's consider this, shall we?" Sylvanas continued. "An objective analysis would lay blame at both our doors. The Horde originated as a tool of Gul'dan to conquer Draenor, and then invade Azeroth. They destroyed Stormwind, killed thousands, including the relatives of many at this table, myself included. In more recent times, we've been responsible in various ways for the destruction of Theramore, the betrayal of the Wrathgate, the sacking of Gilneas... the list goes on. We have blood on our hands."

She leaned forward, red eyes gleaming unpleasantly. "But at least we know and admit to what we are and have been. You? The Alliance imprisoned the orcs and used them as slave labour. Your own internal corruption let Arthas destroy Lordaeron with ease. Just when it seemed like there might be some kind of peace, you allowed Varian Wrynn to annihilate all chance of cooperation. You rejected the Blood Elves out of hand and now have the gall to make weak, pathetic noises about 'hoping they rejoin the Alliance'. And my people, the Forsaken? You lost your homes. We lost our lives to the Scourge, and then were forced to turn around and destroy all we held dear - and you refused to have anything to do with us."

Sylvanas twirled a dagger in her hand, slammed the tip into the table. "You have an old fool who betrayed his own people and a void-tainted psychopath in your ranks.” She refused to look at Alleria even as she referenced the woman. That damned meeting still stuck in her craw. “The Dwarf queen hated what her people had become so much that she defected to the Dark Iron. You even treated Jaina Proudmoore, a war hero if ever there was one, like dirt to be ignored and cast aside. You sicken me."

The Banshee Queen leaned back again, seeming to relax. "We're all monsters, your majesty. We're all guilty as sin. We all hate each other, and we all have deep wounds. Too deep."

"If you're so sure this is a hopeless cause, why are you here?" Anduin challenged, recovering a little.

"Because despite all that, I’ve come to believe that there is one person in the Alliance who can call for peace and know what they’re really asking for. And thus one person I’m willing to listen to, because I have no patience for pretty words and empty promises."

Jaina was rather... stunned.

She couldn't entirely deny anything Sylvanas had said, although her own perspective was naturally a little different. But it both shocked and... troubled her that Sylvanas did not name her sins among the others.

"The only way we can hope to proceed is with transparency. Who is it that you would listen to, Windrunner?" Jaina said aloud.

Did the Warchief consider Vereesa on their side? The youngest Windrunner was, in a fashion... But Jaina wasn't sure Vereesa would be up to leading these negotiations in that kind of role and Sylvanas would reject her if she was simply treated as a puppet.

Sylvanas's eyes bored into her. "Guess."

Jaina raised a hand, opening her mouth to reply about how Vereesa was only tangential to these proceedings and asking her to speak for the Alliance was unfair but... that look made her stop and reconsider.

"... Me? You can't mean that. The last time we met you accused me of being bloodthirsty." She was more... confused than anything.

"Who on your side actually wanted these talks? Wanted, not went along with?" Sylvanas challenged, plucking her dagger from the table and using it to point to each in turn. "Anduin the baby peacemaker? I won't insult you by claiming that you haven't known hardship, but you are naive, boy. Velen? He’s an old man whose fight finished when the Legion fell. But you, Proudmoore? You faced the Scourge, you fought the Legion twice. You lost Theramore and almost everyone in it. If you of all people want to talk peace... I'll listen."

Jaina became quiet. She had expected to play mediator. Not... Spear-head. Who could have guessed she was so...

Was 'highly thought of' stretching it?

She didn't have time to second guess this. Instead leaning forwards, "Alright then. I'll be honest. I don't have many complaints about your groundwork. But as I said to the Alliance Council weeks ago, this is not about ‘forgive and forget’. We cannot ask anyone, anywhere, to simply do so on a whim and forcing the issue will kill this before it's ever begun. So I will accept any outbursts from your side with good graces as long as you can do the same. We will have to pick apart and figure out resolutions to anything currently relevant, but everything else will have to be left behind. No-one will be exempt. Is that agreed?"

Genn looked positively mutinous, but he stayed silent, as did everyone else on both sides. Sylvanas inclined her head. "Agreed."

Jaina relaxed, leaned backwards a little. "Then why don't we begin?"

The first thing was first, to put out any immediate fires. Tensions on the sea, tensions on the Forsaken borders, tensions in northern Kalimdor. They didn't need to have any hard set rules or solutions quite yet. This was a warm up period to make sure everyone was at least listening, if not talking. Jaina was not impartial. She couldn't be and said as much very clearly. She was sat next to the King of Stormwind for a reason. But she also listened intently to what the Horde had to say. It wasn't all military. It was civilians, farmers, priests of various kinds, children who were being caught in some of these frictions.

It was on both sides. And that needed to end.

***

By the end of the first day Jaina was tired, irritable from managing Genn (because Anduin was still a bit too trigger shy to do so to his father's friend), and was now facing down the next day where... Assuming things continued as they were, they would begin the thorny issue of negotiating a permanent, lasting peace. The Horde and Alliance couldn't... Join. Merge. That was something too sticky. There had to be something else.

Because Sylvanas had a point about pretty words and empty promises. They wouldn’t hold back the kind of bitterness and injury that the years had created.

Maybe she'd figure out what that solution was over a very stiff pint.

Fortunately there were several different drinking establishments on Dalaran. So it wasn't hard to avoid people. After all, it wasn't a great mystery to figure out where they'd be going. There were the classic Horde and Alliance establishments, of course, but also a couple of smaller niche locations.

She didn't even have to think about where to go. It hadn't been unheard of for her to go into the underbelly to the Cantrips and Crows. When she'd just been a member of the Kirin Tor or their leader. She went when she was looking to get away from what she was having to deal with. A small, brief retreat where she wouldn't be noticed with a small glamour and a hood.

Nobody bothered her. Cantrips and Crows didn't bother anyone so long as they paid.

But it seemed that the weary mage wasn't the only one lurking there away from attention. A night elf woman was slowly nursing a glass of wine, wrapped in a long cloak and hood. She didn't look familiar, but... something about her caught Jaina's attention. Some instinct saying that something was off.

A night elf...

Jaina couldn't put her finger on what was making her neck prickle... but some instinct was wary. The kaldorei weren’t big into the arcane, so they were a rare sight in Dalaran. Why would one be down in this oft-forgotten tavern?

As though feeling the scrutiny, the elf glanced over, giving her an appraising glance, and then treated her to a smile. Was that a flirtatious edge to it? Maybe.

Jaina raised her tankard, winked. When she was out like this it was easy to emulate the people of her home. Her real home. Her brothers and their friends. She’d needed an escape from the pressures of being Jaina, so… maybe this elf was the same. She was being paranoid.

Probably.

The elf's smile widened. "Come here often?" she said jokingly, in heavily accented common.

"Not as often as I like," Jaina replied. It wasn't hard to smooth out her Rs and jump letters where appropriate for a low-born Kul Tiran woman. "Yourself, lady-elf?"

The tall woman shrugged. "First time in Dalaran. I’ve been to many places, but never here before."

A traveller, then. Curious. "Oh aye? I've spent some time among these wizards, if you'd like a tour?"

Was she really flirting? Was she tired? Exhausted really. But sleeping didn't appeal. A completely pointless distraction was a far more attractive prospect.

"That could be fun. Although it seems like there's some big to-do. Half the city blocked off for some reason." It was a pretty smile. And the amazonian aesthetic of night elf women had its own charm.

"It's something to do with trying for peace." Jaina shrugged but smiled back. The alcohol wasn't even really scratching her. The smile was enough to disarm her a little all on it's own, "What can I call you?"

"Y'rai. Y'rai Mistwalker." The elf got up, moved to sit next to Jaina. "What about you?"

"Scarlet Fisher." She smiled a little. Damn. Yep. She could definitely appreciate a woman with that kind of physicality, "The good news is that you're really only missing out on the sections set aside for the Alliance and Horde... And to be honest there's not much to see either way." She finished her drink.

"Ah well." Y’rai shrugged. "I've always liked the path less travelled. I like your accent, where are you from?"

The mage laughed a little, "Never had an elf compliment my accent. But I suppose there’s a first time for everything... I'm Kul Tiran." She gestured at the elf's glass, "Can I get you another?"

"I wouldn't object." Y’rai treated her to another smile.

Jaina gestured to the barman and then at both of them, silently ordering another for each, handing over the silver when he brought it to them, "So, how long have you been travelling?"

"Oh, many years," Y'rai said. "Trying to avoid trouble and war. Not always successfully," she added dryly. "But always just... trying to make connections. Finding people worth talking to, souls worth touching."

Jaina chuckled, "I don't know if my soul's worth much. But I'll certainly take the compliment."

Y'rai reached out, delicately brushed a stray hair back into 'Scarlet's hood. "We're rarely a good judge of our own worth," she opined.

The archmage’s cheeks flushed faintly, the magicked brown eyes watching Y'rai, a little startled at the familiarity of the touch. Part of her wanted to immediately move away. But she resisted. It would make her look strange, so she gave a rather sheepish smile, "When you end up alone, you're the only one who can make the call. That's just how it is."

"It's true," Y’rai agreed, returning to her drink. "It's why I seek others out. No matter how bad it gets... there's always someone you can trust if you look hard enough. Hate is a powerful force. So's fear. But so's love. So... I try and spread that."

Jaina chuckled, "Commendable. But I think that might be part of the problem. You see, Kul Tirans don't 'love' gently." She gave a faint, teasing grin, letting the night elf take it how she liked.

Her counterpart smirked. "Is that so? A little fire in the deep sea, hmm?"

"My good and very purple lady, have you ever been on a ship on the ocean in all her forms? There's nothing calm about her. Even an exile can't escape that nature."

"It's true," Y’rai purred. "Storms can arise in the unlikeliest of places, and leave you scrambling for breath and balance. And even where there's calm... there's a predator waiting to snatch you up."

"It’s what shaped the Kul Tiran people... Sailors from birth. Even our 'gentlest' noble born don't grow up without learning to ride those waves inside us." Jaina tapped the edge of her glass, "I'm surprised you find it worth talking about. Not many of your kind do, I find."

"I told you, I've travelled,” Yrai hummed. “All four continents, although Northrend was not to my taste. Even to Outland, although I liked that even less. There's more to the world than just forest."

Jaina’s smile turned a little distant, "Well travelled indeed... I can't say I much liked either of them myself." She downed more of her pint, "There's more to the world than the ocean... But your roots always cling to you."

"Which is worse? To have roots that bite deep and trap us, or ones that flail in the air with nothing to call home?" Y'rai studied Jaina thoughtfully.

Jaina thought about that for a long moment, staring at her drink before she downed the rest of it. The alcohol barely touched her, but a bitterness had crept in with the question, "Roots you cut off yourself. No amount of time or reparation can make up for betrayal of your own. My kind don't forgive backstabbing bastards. Jaina Proudmoore for example."

The kaldorei considered this for a time. "There are many kinds of betrayal. The greatest betrayer in our history is now considered a hero."

"Oh? Which betrayer are you talking about?" Jaina queried.

"Illidan, of course." Y’rai gave a thin smile. "But we kaldorei have a strange relationship with the legends of our history. Perhaps a side effect of immortality, and the fact that most of them are still around."

The human woman considered that, "You're not wrong." She traced the lip of the glass, the wind taken out of her sails a bit. She'd come here originally to wallow in her moroseness and just get it out by sulking at the bar after all… so everything was going to plan, it seemed. "You asked my opinion though."

"I did." Y'rai hummed softly. "You seem troubled, Scarlet. Something you're trying to escape from, perhaps. Can this humble wanderer help somehow?"

Jaina breathed a laugh, "Whole world is troubled. But I suppose if you're interested in easing mine... We could skip the tour and go straight to yours?"

That sounded like a Tandred line. Sleeping with a random elf? That was not going to solve her problems. But damned if it wasn't fun to tease.

And it would blow off some steam.

"I might be persuaded," Y'rai said, eyes glinting. "Such forwardness. It's refreshing."

Jaina grinned triumphantly even while she blushed, "You'd love Kul Tiras then. I'm one of the quieter ones." Her grin widened, "Well, in my forwardness anyway."

A faint tinge of darker purple swelled over Y'rai's features. "Oh my," she grinned. "This is the kind of treatment I'd expect from orcs, not a human. Clearly I need to investigate further."

"Partly," Jaina admitted with a chuckle, "It's that you’ve caught me on a day where I desperately need a distraction. But I wouldn't be half so bold if you hadn't gotten touchy."

Y'rai's smile widened. "Then my cunning plan worked. It's amazing what a little touch at the right moment can do to foster trust and intimacy."

The mage laughed. This was surprisingly nice, "Damn. You've got me. I should have known not to be so trusting of a sharp-eyed woman. Now the question is what do I do now that I'm in your clutches? I'm not really one to beg for mercy, you know."

"My advice would be to turn the tables," the kaldorei cooed. "Take control of the situation and enforce your will on the siren who dared to touch you."

"There's a thought..." It wasn't hard to lean in, reaching up and running her thumb over the elf's earlobe, along the underside of the long arch as she invaded the elf's space, elbow on the bar, her voice lowering to a husky purr of her own, "Though you say that like I don't want to be touched."

The night elf tilted her head into the touch. Sensitive ears seemed to be a common elf thing. "So noted..." she hummed. Reached out a hand, drawing a finger along Jaina's chin, tilted it up. Leaned in teasingly, lips parted.

There was no hesitation. Her fingers moved into Y'rai's hair, gripping her jaw and neck lightly. She tugged the tall woman closer as Jaina moved forward, testing the waters with a firm but undemanding kiss.

The night elf responded hungrily, welcoming Jaina's tongue. She had a musky, earthy taste, with a surprising tinge of salt and sparks. Perhaps her magic at work.

The elf pulled back, licked her lips. "So... my place?" she laughed softly.

It wasn't like Jaina had never kissed an elf, but she was still surprised. It wasn't what she expected at all, and now… she wanted to see if all of the woman tasted like that. "Hell, I'll have you in the alley if it's too far."

Yep, she was blushing.

Y'rai plucked a few coins out of her belt, placed them on the bar. Then she got to her feet, looking a little flushed herself, grasped Jaina’s hand and stalked out of the bar. Turned down a side alley, and ambushed the smaller woman with another hungry kiss. "Be careful what you wish for..." she breathed.

It was an aggressive, playful coupling. Jaina was a naturally aggressive partner. Or rather... That's what she'd become. And for all the bitterness and age you could read into it, honestly she enjoyed it more if she didn't hesitate to use her mouth and fingers to the fullest rather then only be gentle. For her part, Y'rai proved to be extremely talented with her tongue and more than happy to respond just as forcefully.

As they caught their breath, adjusted their clothes and checked for spies... the night elf stretched out with a pleased sigh. "I trust you're feeling a little lighter in yourself?"

Jaina was just tying her cloak back on as Y'rai spoke, tucking her hair away and pulling the hood up, "More than. I trust your horizons are a little more expanded?" Then she chuckled, dragging the tall elf down slightly by her collar to press a kiss to her cheek, river sweet kiss in comparison to the wild seas of what had preceded it. "Fair winds, Y'rai."

"And you, Scarlet." Y'rai smiled. "Just remember this the next time the world gets you down. Everyone in the world needs someone. Human or elf, living or undead. We all want someone to care for us and share our burdens with. Even if just for a moment."

She adjusted her hood, winked, and slipped out of the alley.

Jaina stared after her a moment.That seemed... appropriate. And oddly open minded even for a well travelled night-elf.

She went back to her guest quarters quietly, slipping in and disposing of her disguise, doffing her glamour and sliding into bed. Everyone needed someone? It was a sentiment she could share but... Finding that person. Being with that person... That wasn't always so easy. She didn't think of Kalec or Arthas or Tyrande or Kael... None of her previous lovers, brief or lasting brought to mind a pining need.

Who did she want with her? Who could she trust not to buckle or fall or leave her to drown?

... Nobody came to mind.

Maybe she should get a cat. A lot of historically significant mages had owned cats.

Was she really thinking of becoming a crazy cat wizard?

This was where shamans and druids and hell, even warlocks had it easy. They all had spirits and demons to chatter with and talk to. Mages just... had their magic. No wonder so many old wizards turned into blinkered crackpots. Or just went mad.

Regardless. At least the day had had a pleasant ending. Maybe it was just the Kul Tiran in her, but... who didn't feel better after a good orgasm?

Maybe it would let her sleep better and be in a decent mood for talking with Anduin in the morning...

***

In the underbelly of Dalaran, a night elf woman glanced around, and slipped down an alleyway.

“There you are,” the orc girl already lurking there remarked. “You’re late.”

“Security is tight,” Y’rai pointed out. “It’s done. We’ll just have to see if the seeds take root.”

“We’ll see. Do not underestimate the Daughter of the Sea. If you were too obvious -”

“Fear not, sister. Jaina Proudmoore will play her part. It’s hardly the first time I’ve done this. There’s nothing like orgasmic bliss to make someone, even her, suggestible. Is our exit prepared?”

“Of course. Mine was the easy task.”

A moment later, two human women emerged from the alleyway. The faint tang of magic behind them the only sign they left behind, quickly dissipated in the ambient arcane thrum of the great floating city.

Chapter Text

Jaina’s sleep was uneasy. As dawn came, she stirred with a vague sense of nightmares. Nightmares she couldn’t remember. That didn't happen often, usually she could recall every gruesome detail… but this time, there was only the faint memory of water, and singing. It didn’t mean she felt rested but at least echoes of some memory or betrayal or guilt wasn’t knocking around her head.

No matter how groggy she felt there was no time to linger, though she was up incredibly early. She had to speak to Anduin before the meeting to give them time to come up with something more formidable than a conviction for peace. She made sure she was dressed properly, and went out to find her nephew.

She was close enough to Anduin that he thought nothing of letting her see a rare and special sight; High King Anduin Wrynn, bleary-eyed and half-dressed when she arrived.

"Morning," he said with a yawn, hunting for a shirt. "Forgive me, I had a rough night. After a long day. It felt like Sylvanas was trying to stress me out at times, I can't imagine what it was like for you..."

"You learn to handle such things with age." She said, intentionally mysterious with a gently teasing smile before she shook her head and relented to the truth, "It was stressful but... No matter her reasons it's a good move. If this is to hold then we're going to have to be able to handle the stress. That’s why I came to talk to you beforehand, today is going to be even worse."

"I'm sure. But every day, every hour that the Horde stays at the table is a small miracle. If only there was something, some... agreement that we could make with them that would stick. That would cut through all the distrust."

"It's hard to force ties that bind." She sighed, "And considering we brought this to the table.. We're the ones that are going to have to figure out something to give them that would manage it."

"I'm beginning to suspect that Sylvanas came to the Gathering because she didn't think it would achieve anything," he said with another yawn. "And she was so surprised when it did that she's sticking around out of morbid curiosity." He sighed. "You know, in the old days, when the old kingdoms had some dispute or wanted to tie themselves to each other..."

He paused, fingers stilling over the buttons of his coat before he continued on, "Never mind."

Jaina blinked, frowning in confusion for a moment. Then it clicked and her eyebrows shot up, "... I really do not suggest proposing to Sylvanas Windrunner. Greymane would actually lead a rebellion at that point."

"Agreed," The young man said, sounding a little relieved. "I'm not sure I have the stomach to propose marriage to a walking corpse anyway."

"It would be rather amusing to see how she'd react though." Jaina hummed as she watched a rather confused bird checking its reflection in the window.

That line did get her thinking. She leaned on the wall behind her while Anduin finished fixing all his stately, lion-themed finery. She couldn’t help frowning with a hand to her mouth in thought. It could solve the problem, offer a tie that bound in a way that was, at least as far as anyone was aware, unbreakable.

And the words from her little encounter came back to mind.

‘Everyone needs someone.’ Human or elf, living or undead.

Would such a thing even work? Was there evidence beyond the cheerful opinions of a night elf traveller? There was a very strong possibility that Sylvanas would literally laugh in her face.

Jaina would probably do the same, even if just out of shock.

"Copper for your thoughts," Anduin said, doing up his buttons.

"Well, I didn't think that I'd be having children anyway..." Jaina muttered distractedly. She wasn't really considering this was she?

Honestly and truly considering doing this?

Really?

… Well, it could work. If she threw down the gauntlet in a way only she could.

It would work.

If she could approach it in the right way at least. Who knew if Sylvanas would actually humor it? What about Baine instead? Saurfang? No... It would be too easy to see that kind of union as just something Sylvanas could ignore. It had to be an alliance with the Warchief herself.

And it had to be Jaina who was the other half. She had strong ties to the head of the Alliance. She was in the unique position of being the only mage among them. And really, who else would the elf theoretically accept? Sylvanas had only come here because of Jaina. Apparently.

She was still wrapping her head around that one.

"...Jaina?" Anduin said, as he caught on to where her head was at, his expression stunned. "Are you... seriously considering this? You and… the Warchief?"

"Do you have a better plan?" Jaina looked up, honestly asking. Because she really didn’t.

"This is Sylvanas Windrunner. The only reason most on both sides have accepted her is that she's still better than Garrosh. 'Bitch' is the kindest word you've ever had for her. And you're talking about marrying her?" He approached, face serious. "I don't want you to be a sacrificial lamb here. We can find another way."

"Who says anything about being a lamb?" She stood straight, "Anduin Wrynn, have you ever known me to pale in the face of anything? Do you think a marriage will turn me into a meek little thing? If anything I'm best suited for the position because I already have some ties in the Horde and I've got the strongest stomach of the lot of us. Now, I ask again, can you think of something better? Because otherwise we're going into today without a plan and both sides will rip us apart for it."

He was silent for a moment. His expression saying it all. No, he couldn’t think of anything better. Placed a hand on her shoulder. "Very well. I'll back you up the whole way… no matter what."

She nodded, putting a hand over his in return.

Well.

Now... How the hell did she go about pushing that forward?

Part of her wanted to ask Vereesa but... This wasn't romantic. This was business.

Political was not exactly the wedding she'd imagined as a girl. Even with Arthas.

Assuming Sylvanas entertained the idea... there were a lot of awkward questions. Did this even have any weight to it without children? Where would she live?

Would Sylvanas demand she die first and be raised? It wasn't inconceivable. She would refuse it though. They'd have to come at this on equal footing or it wouldn't work. Not... Entirely equal. She'd have to not threaten Sylvanas's place as Warchief… But Jaina would not be turned undead for this or it would damage her standing among the Alliance.

Sylvanas was reasonable, she'd see that destroying Jaina's credibility would only work against her. This would be a delicate discussion but entirely manageable.

Maybe it would really surprise the bitch... what would Sylvanas look like in shock?

It was moments like this that made it plain that all her skill as a diplomat or political mover came from being forced to learn on the fly. Not from any natural inclination or talent.

"Perhaps we should just suggest this directly," Anduin said thoughtfully. "She hasn't hesitated to be blunt on anything herself, after all."

"I agree. Besides, she seemed to appreciate that bluntness coming froming me." Jaina sighed, shaking out of her thoughts, "It's going to cause an uproar. On both sides. Genn won't likely take this lying down... And who knows how Alleria will react. I'll need your support, Anduin."

If anything could be said for Jaina Proudmoore... She wasn't afraid to do what she thought needed doing. Sometimes that was the nicest thing she could say about herself.

"I can handle Genn," Anduin said firmly. "Alleria... we'll just have to see. But either way... you have my full support."

She was completely firm and headstrong in her decision until they'd reached the doors to the Violet Citadel.

Then the first little voice of 'what the fuck am I doing?' appeared.

At least she didn't show it when she pushed open the door and stepped in ahead of her adoptive nephew.

The delegations were there. All seemed fine, although Genn and Sylvanas seemed to be talking. Or more accurately, Genn was snarling and Sylvanas was snarking. You didn't even need to hear them to tell that. But at least they weren't literally trying to kill each other.

Sylvanas.

‘That's your future wife over there,’ the little voice said. ‘Isn't she wonderful?’

Well. It did kind of kill any ideas about eventually having children, wouldn't it? Not that she'd really been searching for that. A powerful mage could easily reach to live two hundred or so years... So she'd always pushed any possibility of answering that question back. She could safely be a hundred or so and only start to worry about her ability to conceive.

Though the bigger block to that would have been finding a suitable partner. With a woman it would have been... complicated. But theoretically possible, either through a donor or a very complex set of rites and spells... But with Sylvanas being a woman and being dead...

Yeah... that wasn't going to happen.

It did bring to mind the image of Sylvanas fucking her which was... Was there a word for that feeling?

'Squiggy' was the first thing that came to mind, but she was fairly sure that wasn't a real word.

She stepped forward, shoving all of those thoughts out of her mind before more personal thoughts of being married to a monster could take over. Until all that remained was what she'd come here to do... Set about a proper union between their people.

She cleared her throat pointedly as she walked around to the Alliance's side of the table, "Good morning."

Sylvanas stalked away from Genn dismissively. Genn might be obsessed, but the way she treated him didn't help.

"Good morning, Proudmoore," Sylvanas said, settling into her chair on the Horde side. Relaxing like a cat. "You sound like you've had an idea."

She eyed the woman. "I ought to have or this will have been a great waste of time." She didn't sit, she stood in front of her chair, "The fact is that we've made alliances in the past. Bonds broken easily in the heat of the moment or from outside stress. Repeating that would be a grave mistake for all of us."

Outwardly she was calm, but honestly she was a little nervous. She wasn't a spymaster or actor by any stretch of the imagination... But fear and uncertainty was something she was a master at hiding now.

"And you think you have a way of solving that?" the Forsaken woman purred. Still, her interest was clearly piqued, sitting up a little more.

Jaina kept her voice calm and clear as she spoke, "Yes. There is one type of permanent bond that is unbreakable, especially for one such as myself... For better or worse."

Here we go.

"Sylvanas Windrunner, I ask for your hand in marriage."

There was dead silence in the room. Genn looked like he'd been stabbed in the gut. Baine stroked his chin thoughtfully.

But Sylvanas... her jaw actually dropped.

Jaina felt less like a roach under a spotlight and more like she was watching a group of cats scatter at a loud noise. It was very difficult not to laugh, nearly impossible not to smile. But she managed to make it a polite one.

"It would, of course, need to be negotiated. Terms, requirements... But it would serve the purpose we seek.. And I hope it makes it very clear to you not just my commitment to this peace but King Wrynn's, I already have his support."

"...of... of course," Sylvanas said weakly. Cleared her throat.

By her side, the seemingly ever-silent Nathanos leaned in and whispered in her ear. Sylvanas straightened, narrowed her eyes. "It's an interesting proposal, certainly. But I do have to point out that the Alliance hasn't hesitated to sell you out in the past, Proudmoore."

"Not this time," Anduin said quietly.

"If you're so dedicated to this concept, boy, then why aren't you on bended knee?" Sylvanas glanced at him.

"Because there is a balance to strike with this arrangement." Jaina continued sensibly, "The head of the Alliance marrying the leader of the Horde? There would be expectations for a complete merge or for one of you to dominate the other in leadership. This allows a degree of separation. Sudden shifts have proved fatal in the past. With this there is no threat to your seat as Warchief, none to the Sovereignty of Stormwind. That being said, I can understand why you might prefer him. He's grown up into quite a handsome young man."

She was on the offensive now, smiling faintly, a little teasing to help soothe down everyone’s hackles and heart attacks. She glanced at Anduin in silent apology for talking about him like some irritating gran. She’d only need to pinch his cheek to complete the picture, "But this offer isn’t a way to martyr myself or throw you a pointless bone. I am the most suitable candidate in many ways."

Sylvanas pursed her lips. Abruptly rose to her feet and stalked around the table until they were face to face. Red eyes locked to hers.

Surprisingly she didn't smell rotten. Just... earthy. There was a scent of death, but it was... fresh and subtle. "May I speak with you privately?"

The most helpful thought her brain managed for a split second was ‘Tall’.

"Of course." Jaina gestured towards the doors, "Let's say meeting adjourned for one hour."

Hopefully that would be enough time to manage this and... Probably cool off after.

Sylvanas grasped her arm and half-escorted, half-dragged her from the room before anyone else could say anything, pulling her into a side room and locking the door. "What's your game, Proudmoore?" she demanded.

This was about what she'd expected and she gave Sylvanas a flat look as she looked down at the armoured glove on her upper arm. She had half a mind to scorch it off.

"I don't have one." The mage said it as firmly as she could, "I came into these negotiations knowing that nothing but the barest truth was going to give us a glint of hope in making this work. My offer is genuine."

The undead elf pulled away, stalking over to the window. Suddenly gave a short laugh. "Assuming I believe you... now I have some small idea as to how you felt when you realised I didn't have any plans at the Gathering."

Jaina rubbed her arm where it had been grabbed, "I know that it won't be easy for you to accept... But you do understand what it's like for a mage to marry, don't you? The full ceremony and rituals I mean. I'm not asking for a piece of paper and a handshake, Sylvanas." She stepped forward, "If I'm going to do this I'm going to go through with it fully. It’s the only way both sides can be sure the bond can’t just be discarded."

That meant binding rituals. That meant her magic coming into influence both for and from Sylvanas. It wouldn't give them power over each other but it would bind them together in a way that nothing short of a god could sever... And it would still leave a lasting mark on them for the rest of their days.

"I understand," she said shortly. "I knew mages in Silvermoon back... before. I even regularly spoke with Kael'thas, although it was never particularly pleasant. He was insufferable even in those days."

"... Yes, I learned eventually that he did tend to put on a rather charming face when I was around." Jaina forced herself to relax a little. Negative as the comment was, at least they were still talking.

She came to stand at Sylvanas's side, glancing out the window before giving the elf her full attention, "I... Understand that I may not be to your tastes. A willingness to listen to me does not mean you want to deal with me every day."

Was Sylvanas even to Jaina’s tastes?

The grey skin, the cold flesh, the faint aroma of the grave... all that aside, she was an attractive woman. Sleek, muscular physique, the catlike grace when she moved...

Weren't there laws against fondling the dead though?

"I wasn't exactly expecting high romance," Sylvanas said dryly. "I scared most prospects off when I was alive, and now I'm the Banshee Queen."

She still hadn't said how she felt about the idea.

"I'm not scared so easily." Jaina said firmly, "We've been blunt with each other so far. Tell me what's on your mind. Your actual thoughts on this."

"My actual thoughts?"

Sylvanas turned around. "My actual thoughts are that I've spent what feels like forever distrusting, arguing with, being looked down on by, and killing the living. Habits are hard to break."

The younger woman didn't flinch away, staring up at Sylvanas evenly as she held out a hand, "One way or the other the wars will end, Sylvanas. You can't spend the rest of eternity doing as you have done. So here's your chance to break the habit by your own choice and not forced by circumstance."

Sylvanas didn't reply. Suddenly she couldn't meet Jaina's eye. "I... need to think about this."

She hesitated, but withdrew her hand, "... Of course. Would you like me to tell the summit we're adjourned for the day?"

Sylvanas Windrunner said nothing, turning to gaze out the window. Suddenly she remembered that moment after Arthas's death. Trying to work out what she was without her vengeance. What she could do, what anything meant, how close she'd come to just... abandoning everything. The forcible realisation that she did in fact care about the Forsaken, about the nation she'd created, had been... earth shattering, after a fashion.

And now... now she was suddenly faced with her first real choice as Warchief. The fight with the Legion had been reactive. She'd been a soldier. So had the more recent matters. Just... following through on what seemed logical.

But this decision here would reshape Azeroth.

After so much preparation and hatred... could she even turn back? Even now there was a fleet assembling to strike at Darnassus. This had seemed like a timewaster, a distraction for the Alliance.

But there was a glimmer here... a glimmer of an idea that maybe peace was possible.

She could be the one to end the conflict. Truly end the war that hadn't really stopped since the Dark Portal first opened.

And that was terrifying.

Jaina watched her freeze, getting lost in her own thoughts. She understood. She didn't move, didn't say anything for a long while, letting the woman think. At least until a solid five minutes had passed and she couldn’t stand it anymore.

"... I'm tired, Windrunner. I'm exhausted. And I'm afraid. Not of war. Of confirming that there's nothing left of me but hatred... So I suppose there is something a little selfish in this, if I'm completely truthful."

Nothing left but hatred?

Was that all Sylvanas had left?

The banshee was struck again by the similarities between the two of them.

"I can understand that fear," she said quietly.

Jaina stared up at her, a little surprised. That tone was strange coming out of this woman and it softened Jaina to her. Quietly she put a hand on Sylvanas's arm.

Sylvanas roused herself at the touch. Move and countermove. She was reading too much into this.

"I accept your proposal, Jaina Proudmoore."

The mage blinked, "You... do?"

And just like that, that aura of quiet vulnerability vanished. "Of course," Sylvanas drawled. "Why would I turn down the chance to have the most powerful mage in Azeroth at my beck and call? I won't even have you poisoned, the idea of you dealing with Undercity alive is too entertaining. As to whether this will guarantee peace... well, we'll see won't we?"

Jaina let her hand drop and her expression turned stoney again, "Then let's go back to the others and work out the details."

Sylvanas pushed the doors open, stalking out into the chamber. "I have decided to accept Lady Proudmoore's proposal," she said calmly. "Thus binding her to the Forsaken and Horde, and myself to her and the Alliance. Welcome to the house of Windrunner, Jaina."

The only noise was Genn making a disgusted sound.

"I'm glad you're feeling so positive about this. But there's much to discuss before that's official." She retook her seat next to Anduin. It was going to be difficult, writing up this nuptial contract... But they'd make it work. Probably.

Stipulations like 'if you turn me undead without my consent (consent must be given in writing to Alliance witnesses one of whom must be Anduin) your final death will be swift and merciless’.

This was going to take a while.

Sylvanas made some jokes of debatable taste about how grey would really suit Jaina. But she agreed to that stipulation without further comment.

As the morning wore on, and surprising progress was being made, Sylvanas leaned forward. "I've decided to make a gesture of good will, considering this... new development. Saurfang. I'd like you to dismantle the invasion force."

There was a ripple of shock on the Horde side of the table.

It wasn't really a surprise that there was one. But to both publicly admit to it, and instruct it to be dismantled...

Jaina looked up, surprised. Despite her irritation at the sarcasm and jokes Sylvanas had made throughout the whole ordeal... She couldn't help finding the gesture... nice? She felt like being married to Sylvanas was going to be marrying into a tempest. You think you're heading north and then the next moment, surprise! West!

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of her mouth but she quelled it for a flat, controlled tone instead, "And you said you didn't do high romance, Warcheif. Now, on that note, my position as your wife... I don't entirely know what, if any, duties that usually entails. Thrall was the only Warchief I spent time with while he held the office. However I will be assuming the duties of official liaison between the Horde and Alliance. For all factions. That will require manpower from both sides... But for the purposes of this contract all it requires from you is to agree not to interfere with that station. Are we agreed?"

"It also requires you to be able to fairly represent the interests of the Horde," Sylvanas pointed out. "Can you do that? If not, then I cannot in good conscience agree to leave you to that duty."

"Yes." She said simply, with a finality which was mostly directed inwards, "I'm well aware, and I will honour that. Part of the need for man-power is to gather voices from each nation to help ensure that I am listening to everyone."

Sylvanas glanced around her side of the table.

"You have been a friend to the Tauren in the past," Baine said simply. Saurfang just grunted. Lor'themar inclined his head, his expression hard to read. Gallywix didn't look like he cared, which he wouldn't as long as the money flowed.

The empty seat where the Troll representative should be was... unfortunate.

Jaina glanced at that empty chair as well. She'd noticed it before but she hadn't expected answers, so she hadn’t asked. Perhaps they were still in mourning over Vol'jin. She couldn't blame them. She’d initially spat the same hatred as Genn when it seemed like the Horde had abandoned them… And she’d had enough self reflection remaining to feel ashamed when she discovered why Sylvanas had called the retreat. She was even willing to believe it was on the dying Vol’jin’s orders.

"I can work that out with them afterwards. For the purposes of our nuptial agreement all I need is your guarantee that you will not sabotage or interfere with my position as liaison."

"On the condition that you actually do your job... agreed," Sylvanas said. "Of course, that does leave the question of whether the Alliance are happy to do all their talking through you."

"I'll be working with King Wrynn and the rest of you as well to find suitable representatives for all." Jaina looked around her side of the table. It wasn't like this was a discussion to be had. Again, who else besides her would be in a position to take this role?

Genn abruptly stood. "My question is simple. If this is to be the future, then when will the Horde be brought to account for their crimes against my people? And when will they rescind all claim to Gilneas?"

Jaina set her quill down carefully so as not to smudge the parchment she had been hashing out their agreements on, "And what would you want, Lord Greymane? In recompence? What could actually satisfy you?"

The old worgen paused to frame a response. But Sylvanas beat him to it. "Why, to see me tortured to death for his own personal amusement," she said in a bored tone. "This is a very old tune, Greymane. Need I remind you that the decision to assault and capture Gilneas was one made by Garrosh Hellscream? What would you have had the Forsaken do, refuse to attack the isolationist fools sitting on our doorstep? The ones who, need I remind you, actively locked the door on us when we were alive? Let's not beat around the bush, old man, you have a vendetta for what I did to your son. That was war, Greymane. And he died quickly. A mercy that not everyone in this world gets," she added darkly. “Besides… you’ve done plenty to hurt me since then.”

Jaina broke in and continued with at least somewhat more understanding, "Nothing will ever soothe that hatred, Genn. Nothing will ever account for the loss you've endured at the hands of others... And at your own." She spoke from experience, "We are all making sacrifices here. We are choosing to let go the debts of past war for a hope of the future."

Genn fell silent. He could see he was on the losing end of this debate. But he didn't look happy.

Nor did Alleria.

Tyrande, though… Tyrande seemed to be slowly relaxing from her militant stance, the hostility draining into tired relief. She still had some of the old warhorse spirit she'd had when Jaina had first met her, but... her people had taken a lot of hits over the last couple of decades.

Jaina would deal with Alleria and Genn as they decided to voice their feelings. She was relieved that Tyrande seemed on their side though. The night elves were oddly inflexible about certain things and she was never sure when that would pop up.

"Alright... Moving on." Working out the preliminaries of a nuptial contract was... Tiring. It was more paperwork then she'd done in a long time. And there was quite a lot to discuss pertaining to their roles and expectations. Jaina wanted no restriction on her movement in the Horde and the Alliance. She would not be a servant and her magic would not be at Sylvanas's ‘beck and call’. But she was willing to make concessions where it would make sense for her to take on responsibility.

And they could debate more... Personal matters for the agreement in private, later.

Finally they decided to break for lunch. Clear heads and full stomachs.

The question was, who would she eat with? Or should she just avoid all of them?

Jaina needed a moment to clear her head. The two hour break would give her plenty of time to take a small walk in the fresh air before she came back to find food. She had to remain calm as she could or this would get out of hand.

That was one of the nice things about Dalaran being up in the sky. You were never short of fresh breezes. At least over the Broken Isles it wasn't freezing arctic winds.

She saw Vereesa quietly ambling along a little way off. The Dalaran observers had said almost nothing throughout, but they'd been there, and that had included Vereesa seeing her sister be proposed to.

Not that she, or Alleria come to it, had shown much outward reaction.

Jaina debated just... Turning and going the other direction but... No. She'd asked Vereesa for help. She wouldn't hide from her now.

She caught up to the elf, "Are you alright?" She wasn't sure how else to start the conversation.

Vereesa glanced up. "Are you all right? That must have been... challenging to work up to."

She grimaced slightly, "It's... Not the most pleasant thing I've decided to do. I'm sorry I didn't warn you. Anduin and I only first talked about it this morning. The reasoning was solid so... I went for it."

The elf woman was silent for a moment. "I... I mean, I could tell you what I know of her past relationships?"

"That... Might be helpful?" Who knew what kind of ‘relationship’ she and Sylvanas would end up having in the end.

Vereesa shrugged. "I know there were... um... a lot of rumours about her and Nathanos. You know, her lieutenant. Back when they were alive. Likely half the reason that Kael'thas tried to have Nathanos deported. Kael definitely made a few passes at her, but I don't think she took him up on it."

"... I did wonder." She chewed her lip, "Is that... All you know?"

Vereesa sighed. "We all... took the slaughter of our family in the second war very hard. And very differently. Alleria turned into a bloodthirsty warhawk. I became detached from my homeland. And Sylvanas... Sylvanas just broke. I'm sure there were flings. Moments of passion. But I also remember a lot of alcohol when I was visiting."

The human frowned, "Does alcohol affect the undead?"

She shrugged. "I think it depends. Back in the Northrend days, I did see some of the Ebon Blade drinking regularly. Some of the better preserved Forsaken. Seemed like the more rotted they were, the less it worked."

"... I'll have to keep an eye on her." A drunk was one thing Jaina couldn't picture Sylvanas' as... But if it was true then she wouldn't stand for it.

"You don't have to accept me as family." She said quietly, moving on.

Vereesa glanced up. Smiled softly. "I know that. But I will anyway. We've always worked well together in the past, haven't we? And... you're going to have a hard enough time as it is."

Jaina gave her a small joking scowl, "Yes, because I'm very unused to having a hard time."

But then those words started to sink in and she softened. She put a hand on Vereesa's shoulder, "Thank you."

Even if it was out of an odd situation and it wasn't the same... It would be the first time she'd have a family in a very long time. Anduin was dear to her but one person couldn’t be a whole family.

Vereesa placed a hand on hers. "Of course... you realise that you're not just gaining a wife and a couple of sisters-in-law," she said seriously. "You have the very important responsibility of being an aunt."

"Oh no." She hummed, "That's quite a responsibility. I might have to call it all off." Jaina smiled a little, too relieved to keep up the joke.

Vereesa sobered a little. "Alleria will come around. Turalyon will stop her from doing anything stupid, and I know that he'll support you when he hears about all of this."

Turalyon... Jaina didn't know him so much as know of him. But he seemed like a good ally. She nodded, "I look forward to meeting him in more than just passing."

Her stomach growled and Jaina glanced back the way she came, "I should find lunch. I didn't eat last night or this morning... And this evening is looking to be a marathon."

Vereesa nodded. "Good luck."

Chapter Text

When Jaina re-entered the conference chamber to find lunch... she was confronted with the sight of the gnome and goblin delegations raring to fight, and everyone else seemingly not far behind. Only Baine and Anduin were trying to restore order.

Sylvanas was nowhere to be seen.

She had just been working up to asking Sylvanas to meet with her privately about the contract. This rather knocked all of that out of her mind.

“Gentlemen!” She tried to call over the bickering but nobody turned save Baine, who currently had his small green peer around the middle to hold him back from a direct fight. The young bull’s ears flattened and his expression was honestly apologetic.

Then Gallywix made a rather biting and vile comment about Mechatorque’s trams and the Gnome looked murderous, straining anew at Anduin’s hold on his shoulders and shouting something that sounded extremely vulgar in what little she knew of Gnomish.

"That is ENOUGH!" The mage shot out a hand and a wall of ice erupted between the two parties, effectively separating them, "I have seen chambers full of initiate children with better self control than this room!” Her eyes and the runes around her fingers were both still glowing bright blue as she stared on either side of her wall, meeting every eye, “Are you finished?"

Anduin and Baine gave her twin relieved, long-suffering looks. Slowly the two sides separated with muttered comments, none of which she actually much cared about as long as they kept themselves civil.

"Well, if I had doubts about your ability to handle petty squabbles before, they're thoroughly assuaged now," came a dry laugh from behind her. Sylvanas padded forward, seemingly having been drawn by the noise.

Jaina tensed at the sudden voice behind her, but forced herself to relax and stand straight. It was less than a thought to dismiss the ice-wall down the middle of the room. "And where were you, Windrunner?"

"Getting some air," the undead elf replied calmly. "Same as you, I imagine."

Jaina sighed, muttering, "... Considering what just happened I'll refrain from doing that in the future, I think."

The mage looked around at the parties still standing about, "Well? Lunch wasn't served for you to throw it on the floor." She gestured at the few overturned plates and goblets, "Eat."

The room finally started to get back to the served meal, moving around the servers who came to clean up the mess now that the fighting was done. She made sure that they were all going to their own corners and not just lingering to pick fights again before she glanced at Sylvanas, lowering her voice, "I would like to work out some of the more... personal parts of a nuptial agreement privately. When you have the time."

Sylvanas paused. "Of course," she said after a moment. "Perhaps... a private lunch together?"

The mage looked back at the room, then raised an eyebrow at Sylvanas, "... Is it safe to leave them alone?"

"I think the terror of being frozen solid and then flayed alive by banshees will probably keep them in line after that reminder, don't you?"

"Please don't flay anyone." Jaina groaned, rubbing her eyes, "Yes. Private lunch. Sounds fine. There's a room we can use." She led the way over to the center of the table where the serving dishes had been laid out, gathering a plate of food and the sketch contract she had been writing to take with her. They were close enough to each side that she could catch both Baine and Anduin’s eye to nod her thanks before she led them back out of the hall again.

Sylvanas followed with her own plate. At least she didn't seem to be one of those undead who'd eat anything. "Will we have a 'no flaying' rule, then?" she said. It was impossible to tell if she was just yanking Jaina's chain.

"No flaying indiscriminately. I'd say no flaying at all but... Garrosh existed," Jaina grumbled as she led the way into a smaller meeting room, setting her papers and plate down. "I would appreciate being consulted before flaying took place."

Sylvanas settled in opposite. "I don't actually flay people. Or I haven't yet," she corrected with a small chuckle. "I don't like to make definite statements. After all, as you say, Garrosh existed."

"Oh." Jaina’s tone did not hide the fact that she hadn't doubted for a second the idea that Sylvanas had flayed people before. "Well, I guess we can leave that as a rule of thumb. I'd honestly rather not have my entire life dictated by a marriage anyway." She picked up a handful of grapes and ate the first, her hungry stomach relaxing.

"Then we're agreed on that, at least." Sylvanas leaned back, biting into an apple. "Entertaining as baiting you is, Proudmoore... I'm not interested in making you suffer from this arrangement. I'm quite willing to be reasonable."

The mage looked over Sylvanas's face searchingly before she spoke, "... I'm not interested in making you suffer either. If nothing else, it's rude." She sighed, "But I'm about to have nephews and I'd like to make sure they have a world to grow up safely in."

"Ah. Vereesa and Alleria's children." Sylvanas shifted a little, her expression thoughtful. "I haven't seen any of them since the fall of Silvermoon. Perhaps... not that surprising."

"No. But you might want to get used to it. Vereesa has already told me that my foremost responsibility is going to be as an aunt." She smiled faintly.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. If my sister wished me to interact with them... I likely already would have." Snarky Sylvanas had faded into morose Sylvanas.

"Because your positions on either side of a war had no bearing on any of you at all... And because people and their relationships never change." Jaina replied flatly, "Yes, you're quite right."

Those red eyes flashed with sudden anger. But Sylvanas suppressed it after a moment. "What did you wish to discuss?"

Jaina didn't flinch or back down at all, instead she pushed her plate away and spoke frankly. "This is a political marriage," she said bluntly, "I don't know... What your interests or current arrangements are. But I'm not interested in taking you away from..." She paused for a moment to try and find a way to phrase this diplomatically. "...any current lovers you might have."

"You'd find it hard to do so, given that I don't have any," Sylvanas said calmly. "The reverse also applies to you, of course."

The mage actually sighed in relief, "Well, it's good not to be the only one I suppose. I thought you and... Never mind."

"Nathanos is a trusted servant. Nothing more." Sylvanas sighed as well, a heavy sigh full of implied complexity. "This does lead to the question of where you will live, though."

The Kul Tiran woman paused, "... Currently in Stormwind." It wasn't wrong. But she hesitated to bring up the pain of the specifics.

"I'm not sure that you living in an Alliance city sends the right message," Sylvanas said. "Although I won't insist that you join me in Undercity. It's an... acquired taste if you're still alive, or so I'm told."

"I imagine I'll be fairly mobile for a while trying to deal with everything,” Jaina replied. “But no, I don't think staying in Stormwind will help anything. As for Undercity… I will need to go there at some point if only to find an appropriate Forsaken representative."

"Am I not appropriate enough for you?" Sylvanas said with a ghostly smirk.

"No," Jaina said flatly, "This is work. Better to have a buffer if nothing else, and just like with the other nations, I want to hear what your people have to say. Not just what my wife thinks."

‘My wife’.

That was... oddly heavy and oddly final. As if she hadn't been sure about this before.

Was she blushing?

Pity's sake...

Surprisingly Sylvanas blushed ever so slightly as well. "So noted. Well... there are a few notables in Undercity beyond me and my Dark Ranger corps. The Desolate Council, for instance." She scowled slightly at that name, evidently feeling no particular love for them.

"Good... I'll be selecting them carefully but recommendations are appreciated." Jaina wanted to press on... but there was one last thing to handle and she'd better do it before her bravery gave out. "... Are you... aware of what the rites of marriage entail?"

"The rites of marriage?" Sylvanas said. "As in... the magical side of them?"

Jaina nodded, "Yes. There are three. The Rites of Ice and Fire are fairly well known publicly but... the third is a... private affair..." She was a grown woman who had had multiple partners quite happily… Yet this was somehow incredibly awkward to talk about, "I know they've been completed by undead in the past, but I have to be honest... I've never asked the details of how that works for them..."

Sylvanas paused. "...if there's been a case of one of the undead and one of the living going through the mage rites of bonding together, I've not heard of it," she said after a moment. "I'm aware of the basics. I was born in Silvermoon, after all. But... I've never exactly looked into it in any detail."

"It was a marriage between Forsaken if I recall..." Jaina sighed at her own awkwardness, "Are you able to have sex, Sylvanas?"

The Forsaken blinked, shifted again. "Yes," she said cagily. "Why do you ask?"

"Because it's part of the final rite. It's either sex or... rather intense pain. I know what I'd prefer."

Sylvanas fell silent. "Oh," she said finally.

Jaina cleared her throat, "The binding has to sink in deep. That means older magics which are... Less academic." It was one of the reasons she'd stayed away from the purely arcane workings despite her ability for all schools of power.

"I mean... so long as the idea isn't utterly repellant to you, I concur that sex is probably better than agony," Sylvanas said after a long, thoughtful pause.

"As long as you can experience orgasm then... Yes. It would be preferable. I really would not like to start my married life by hurting you." Jaina’s voice was as calm and even as she could make it.

"I'm fairly sure everything works." Sylvanas shrugged, matching her in her casual tone. "Perks of bansheedom. All the Dark Rangers that got strong enough to retake corporeal form are in remarkably good shape."

"Then we'll use that method." Jaina wasn't willing to say if it repelled her or not because that was a whole can of worms she did not want to open. Swiftly she pushed onwards. "What about you? Do you have any conditions or concerns?"

Sylvanas finished her apple, chewing slowly. "No,” she said finally. “So long as you respect me, my people and the Horde... I don't exactly plan to ask anything of you."

Jaina was more than a little surprised by that. Was Sylvanas just being courteous? "I don't want to simply... Exist in your periphery. I am not a tool to be used but if there are things I can do to help you, I want you to ask me. I cannot promise I’ll say yes to everything but if we’re going to move forward in peace then we have to be willing to rely on each other at least somewhat."

"If I do need something, then I will ask and treat you as I would any other member of my court,” Sylvanas said quietly. “But being a corpse precludes children, my home has little to offer, and I don't need my ego padded even if you were likely to do such a thing. The usual trappings of marriage, political or otherwise, are... I won't force them on you. The kind of sacrifice you're making in the name of peace isn't lost on me."

Jaina considered that for a long moment before relenting to her curiosity, "I don't know what an elf turned Forsaken would consider the 'usual trappings of marriage'."

Sylvanas pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't expect sex, you can live where you choose, and I won't even refer to you as my wife if you'd prefer I didn't."

Jaina opened her mouth, gawking like a fish before she quickly closed it and covered her reaction. Ask a stupid question…

"Lets get through the wedding and rites first and then we can sort that out?" She was absolutely blushing at this point.

Maybe she could make an ice storm large enough to freeze all of Azeroth instead of going through with this? That would count as peace right? Can’t be at war if everyone was an ice cube.

"...as you wish. I just wanted to make my position clear. You wanted to talk about our private arrangements," Sylvanas pointed out.

"Yes. I appreciate that." Jaina speared a small sausage and ate it quickly, scribbling something down on the contract as a note, brain looking for a distraction from her embarrassment, "... You know, you're becoming an aunt again as well. In a fashion."

"In a fashion?" Sylvanas queried, puzzled.

"Well, it's not biological but Anduin did grow up calling me 'aunty Jaina'. He only stopped because his father teased him when he got older, unfortunately."

Anduin might stop speaking to her for giving this to Sylvanas but it was better then continuing to think about all of… this.

Sylvanas gave a genuine laugh. "Oh my. I won't argue about more ammunition to tease him with." Then she shook her head, the smile fading. "This is going to be... very strange."

Jaina couldn't help but smile at that. Had she ever seen this woman laugh in a way that wasn’t mocking or cruel? Her father had been right, laughter could make even the most blighted bastard look like an angel. "We'll sort it out together. That's what married people do, or so I hear."

'My wife'.

It was easier to settle with her choice when faced with this Sylvanas. A Sylvanas that laughed, blushed, and even got a little morose and nervous. It made her seem much more real then the Sylvanas she knew from the battlefield and from tense meetings.

She was just a woman. A dead woman... But a woman.

"Supposedly so," Windrunner agreed. "A lot of married couples seem to push through horrific circumstances, against all odds. I just... never pictured myself as one of them. Even when I was alive."

"I didn't really have time or space to contemplate marriage or children for myself sense the third war..." Jaina shrugged. The memory of her and Arthas’s failed romance had long stopped being a major bruise even while the pain of his fall still lingered, "Anduin is as close to having a son as I'll ever have I suppose."

"It has been one thing after another since then," Sylvanas said with a sigh. "Although... in a way, I became a mother to all Forsaken. Their guiding light in a very dark night."

The mage was quiet for a moment before looking up and stating seriously, "I don't think I want every single Forsaken calling me 'Aunty Jaina'."

"Are you sure? It wouldn't be hard to arrange," Sylvanas said, a mischievous grin flitting over her grey features.

Jaina shuddered dramatically but broke into a soft laugh, "I'd wanted to be a mother once upon a time, but never in my life did I want that many children. Thank you."

"Once... but no longer?" the elf probed gently.

That tugged the humour away from Jaina, "... As you said, you can't provide that. And I don't hold that against you."

She wouldn't have dared to bring a child into this world with no solid home and the shadow of a fourth great war on the horizon... There was an irony to the fact that by chasing off that horrible future she was forsaking having children at all. Maybe it was that Kul Tiran Nobility upbringing but… Having a child that wasn’t her spouse’s felt wrong.

But it was something Jaina could live with.

A cool hand was placed on hers. "I'm sorry," Sylvanas said softly.

Jaina stiffened, glancing down in surprise... Her expression softened at the gesture even as her jaw tightened.

Jaina really was fine, it was just a little bittersweet. It was just another thing and it wasn't even like she had lost a child. Just a possibility. Possibilities were lost every day just by walking past them in the street. This was no different to picking one route to walk to a place over another. Or picking fisherman's pie instead of a loin for lunch.

So why did she suddenly want to cry a little?

Unable to manage that sudden surge of emotion she pulled her hand away, "I'm alright. Thank you." It came out a little stiff, she couldn't look at Sylvanas.

"I wanted children once, too," the Forsaken said simply. Withdrew the hand.

Jaina was silent for a moment. The teary swelling in her chest had quickly faded, thankfully. She took a moment to just breathe and let it move past. It was just the stress of all this. The end of an era. Her own demons that she was having to set aside for this peace to work scratching at her mind…

It only took her a few seconds until she could smile lightly, "You probably would have been a terror of a mother. The kind who'd go to task for their child even if they were a spoiled little brat."

"Perhaps." Sylvanas didn't sound like she wanted to talk about it further. "I would suggest that you stay with me in Undercity to begin with, especially for the rites. It'll be the most secure location. After that... we'll see what makes the most sense."

"We'll need to do one of the rites... where I'm staying." She admitted, "But that doesn't have to be in Stormwind proper." She abandoned all hesitation before pressing on, "Places that have connections to the partners are best. What was once Theramore isn't a good idea considering the remaining chaotic magics. We can do the final rite in Undercity but either the right of fire or the rite of ice will need to be completed in a place with a stronger connection to me."

"Why not Dalaran?" Sylvanas questioned. "You spent many years here, did you not?"

"It's possible but... it would be only moderately more manageable than doing it on Theramore considering I’ve severed official ties. And I'll be honest, political marriage or no... I'd rather not tie this place to my wedding. I'd rather spend as little time here as possible actually."

Sylvanas didn't question it. "Very well. I can't pretend that the idea of visiting Stormwind appeals, except maybe being at the head of an invading army, but... I'll cope."

"It won't be in Stormwind." But that's all Jaina would say on the matter until contracts were signed. She scribbled down a few more things on the pages, "... That's really all I can think of for now."

"Likewise." Sylvanas got to her feet, offered a hand. "Shall we see if they're acting their age?"

The mage nodded, taking Sylvanas's hand as she stood, "At least Baine and Anduin can behave like gentlemen..."

Cool, firm hands. For a moment as she stood, they were inches apart.

Then Sylvanas pulled back, released her hand. "Baine has been an interesting ally. One that I have not always seen eye to eye with, but one that I've valued."

It caught Jaina off guard for a split second but she shook it off quickly. "They’re both good young men. I'm hoping that this bridge between the two sides will allow their friendship to re-emerge. I think they'd be a good influence on each other."

"We'll see," Sylvanas said. "Many things could change if this works."

The elf paused for a moment at the door, hand on the handle. "You were on good terms with Thrall, weren't you?"

Jaina’s expression tightened. "... Until he left us at the mercy of Garrosh." She'd told him Garrosh wasn't ready. From what she remembered many people had warned Thrall that Garrosh wasn't a good choice. He told her that with Saurfang’s son dead there was no one else suitable to take up that mantle. That Garosh was popular and just needed to hold the Horde together for a while. That orcs would only follow another orc.

At the time she’d just accepted it despite her reservations. Now she was pretty sure that if someone said ‘orcs will only follow orcs’ to her she’d lose her temper in a rather terrible way.

"How did you maintain that relationship with him?” Sylvanas asked quietly. “How did you find common ground despite... everything?"

“Sometimes I have no idea.” She admitted thoughtfully, "... At first we focused on what needed doing and what we had in common. It was a war for survival, after all. We forged an alliance out of desperation at first and then grew to have a kind of respect and trust. After a while we became comfortable talking about what we disagreed about too. It was just... effort, time and understanding really. It was far from perfect though... Why?"

Sylvanas shrugged, quirked a smile. "Peacemaking is... not a natural skill for me."

Jaina smiled faintly, "It was a learned skill for me as well. My suggestion? When you have that first itch or two to say something snide or witty because the other person is irritating you or you’re remembering something they did that angers you... Hold it back in favour of being calm and to the point. It does wonders to de-escalate situations."

"That doesn't sound like me at all," Sylvanas said dryly. "My last thought as one of the living before Frostmourne impaled me was trying to think of something suitably defiant and cutting."

A cloud flitted over those cold, grey features, swiftly suppressed.

The mage thought about making a joke to try and coax back the dry humour rather than the morose memories but... Instead she took her own advice and put her hand on Sylvanas's arm, "Shall we?"

Sylvanas roused herself, nodded. "Let's go."

Jaina pulled her hand away and helped to push open the door back into the main hall to face the madness again.

***

It was another few days before the details of the agreements were hammered out. World-wide cease-fire, the concession of certain contentious but purely military outposts.... their nuptial agreement. Jaina was working overtime to keep all sides in check and reasonable. Not the easiest thing to do but... she managed.

Fortunately there hadn't been any big outbursts. Genn had pushed hard regarding reclaiming Gilneas and pushing the Horde border back, and the matter was far from closed, but the more militant elements on both sides had evidently decided to stay quiet and push their angles outside of the conference with their relevant leaders.

There was honestly a sense of relief as she finally signed her name onto the contract first, holding out the quill to Sylvanas. The summit was over and it had been... mostly successful. More successful than was reasonable given the circumstances. The rest... Well. It would take time. Time and a lot of hiccups probably. There was a general sense of disbelief from all concerned, as though they expected to awaken from this dream at any moment.

And there was a definite moment of held breath and stunned silence in realisation when Sylvanas printed her looping signature next to Jaina's.

There were ceremonies to complete, of course. But legally speaking, the houses of Proudmoore and Windrunner were now tied.

Jaina stared at the signatures on the binding parchment for a long moment in silence as well.

But there were things to do.

"This concludes the summit." She said with finality, turning to look around them, magicing the contract away, "Thank you all."

She turned to Sylvanas, all business, "When would be convenient to perform the rites? They should be completed over a rather smaller time period. No more than five days."

"Well, I had planned to carry out the invasion of a major Alliance city, but my schedule's been cleared and this seems fairly important, no?" Sylvanas said dryly.

Jaina had been putting up with Sylvanas's dramatics the whole time like a saint, but that wasn't going to last forever. It was all she could do at this point not to roll her eyes. Yes, we get it, you had an invasion planned and we're all so very grateful you've stayed your hand this day, Queen of Obnoxiously Loud Women.

"Let’s go then." She raised her hand to summon a portal, "Anduin. I'll stop by once this is finished, a few days at most."

Anduin squeezed her shoulder. Leaned in to whisper in her ear. "You've done an amazing thing this week."

Sylvanas held out her hand. "Lead on... Jaina."

Jaina looked up at Anduin with a small smile. Amazing? Probably. If she was an onlooker she’d be amazed they hadn’t all murdered each other by now. Mostly she was just... tired.

Her hand slipped into Sylvanas’s. Had this been happening a lot or was it just her?

It shouldn't be strange for your wife to offer you her hand.

‘My wife’.

Chapter Text

The portal released them below the decks of the raised Proudmoore. It had been repaired, refitted, refurbished and resupplied. Ready for her to take it wherever it was needed. A week ago she'd been prepared for it to be to a battle. Likely many battles. Now... She was going to take it into neutral waters.

"Welcome aboard."

Sylvanas steadied herself for a moment. "...where are we?"

"The Flagship Proudmoore." She said, heading for the stairs out of the cargo-hold, into the gundeck, "I'll take us out to sea. You should stay below deck until we're away from the harbor."

The elf was quiet for a moment. "Wasn't it sunk?"

"Was." Jaina agreed, pausing before she mounted the second set of stairs up to the deck.

"And I should stay below deck because... having the Banshee Queen suddenly visible in Stormwind Harbour might not be a good thing?"

"It would very likely cause a panic, yes." She called down, "Perhaps one day it won't matter, but they don't even know what's happened, let alone had time to adjust... Give me fifteen minutes and you'll be welcome to join me topside."

"As you wish." Sylvanas ran her hands along the wood around her. Looking deep in thought.

Jaina disappeared above into the fading light.

Under Sylvanas’s inspection the ship had a slightly... Warped feeling to it. Old, water-damaged... But fixed into working order and cleaned up. Much of the ancient ship had been obviously repaired or replaced... But you could almost taste the souls who died here.

The lingering hatred.

The ship moved unnaturally. Magic, not sails, was pulling them away from the harbor. Since they seemed to be the only ones onboard, and the ship had been pulled from the depths... not particularly surprising.

It suddenly occurred to Sylvanas that she was now isolated. If Jaina decided to kill her... it would be just the two of them. She’d followed one of the most powerful mages in Azeroth, one who’d refloated an entire battleship, through a portal, and now… there was nothing to protect her if Jaina decided to attack..

And vice-versa. Although if she murdered her wife... then she'd be stuck out at sea.

For a while, anyway. Her Val'kyr would show up soon enough.

Her wife.

There was a thought she simply couldn't process, even now.

Her wife...

Her wife who was carrying a four mast ship around with magic like children do with toys.

Was that singing coming from above?

She padded up the stairs. Not going up on deck, just... listening.

Jaina Proudmoore, frost-wielding harpy and terror of her enemies... singing?

It lacked the accompaniment of other voices but... She'd heard human sailors sing at sea before and this was definitely one of their songs. Her voice was clear, strong and smooth.

"The anchor's on board
and the cable's all stored
To be rollicking Randy Dandy-O
Soon we'll be warping her out
through the locks,
weigh hey, roll and go"

The sea breeze filtered through the open door to the deck and from the position of the sun and the roll of the ship they were definitely on their way out of the harbor.

She quietly sat on the stairs. Closing her eyes and listening.

She'd known on an intellectual level that Jaina was Kul Tiran, that she must know the sea, but... it was different, hearing her singing a sailor song.

How was Proudmoore feeling? Was she... happy? No, surely not. This must be just habit. Or more likely just a reaction to the freedom of the sea. Not to her current circumstances.

There was something more... natural about the mage here, either way. There was a lingering stiffness to how she had been at the summit. In all their meetings really. It wasn’t surprising; the entire affair had been stressful for all.

Jaina really was seemingly reacting to the Kul Tiran in her blood. There wasn't even a hesitation as she rolled into a second song, something about terrible troll ales... And when she came to the end of that one she called out, "Windrun-! Damn... Sylvanas! Come topside!"

She emerged, squinting a little in the light. Still, despite being unused to the blazing sea sun... she pulled her hood back, steadying herself on the railing. "You have a good singing voice," she said after a moment.

Jaina was stood next to the magiced wheel rather than at the helm proper, leaning on the railing. She was.. Smiling. Or maybe she was just relaxed enough not to be frowning. The green sails above them were full, the wind fully carrying them now. Her smile faltered slightly and she looked away from Sylvanas.

"... Thank you. I think it's just compulsory for my people." Jaina came down the steps to meet her, looking both far more tired and more alive at the same time. She pointed towards the sun that was setting ahead of them, "The sky is clear and the sea's calm. With any luck we'll see a flash. Have you ever seen one?"

"A flash?" The banshee glanced over. "I've never spent much time at sea. Forests and cities are my home."

She grinned, an actual smile, slight as it was. "I haven't seen one since I was a girl... But I think the conditions are just right. We just have to wait for the sun to set."

The human leaned on the railing next to Sylvanas, looking out over the sea, as the wind pulled her braid off her shoulder, "To be honest I haven't sailed much in the last twenty years, except for a few instances. I bet a real Kul Tiran would call my seamanship sloppy... But I suppose when you grow up immersed in something it never really leaves you."

Sylvanas pulled the bow off of her back, ran a finger along the ornate weapon’s ridges. "For me, it was this."

Jaina looked at it curiously, "Archery? Or being a ranger general?"

She shrugged. "Both, I suppose. All three of us went into it. My mother was ranger general before me. Alleria would have taken the position if she hadn't wanted to go on the offensive rather than defend Silvermoon. Vereesa was too young to rise up in the ranks, but she'd have been in the line to be my lieutenant if it hadn't been for Rhonin."

"I have to admit I don't know much about their history except that he talked about her like she was his moon and sun... Why did that stop her?"

Sylvanas shook her head. "He came to us asking for help. Something about the dwarves. Vereesa volunteered to accompany him. Grand adventures, blossoming romance, they got married and she never really came back to Silvermoon. In truth I think she wanted to get as far away from the graves of our family as she could. But at least that kept her away from the Scourge."

The shorter woman nodded thoughtfully. After a moment of silent thought she suddenly had to stifle a laugh, trying to keep her expression as neutral as possible as she glanced slyly at Sylvanas "... Does a human fetish run in the Windrunner family? You're three for three on marrying them."

Sylvanas flushed, gave an embarrassed laugh. "I suppose we are." Not that you count. This is politics. Not romance. If it weren’t for those mage rites, sex wouldn’t even be on the table.

Jaina chuckled, ignorant of the cynical thoughts, "I promise I won't tell anyone.” She looked away again, more relaxed and amused now then tired or cautious. Though ‘tired’ seemed to cling to the woman at all times.

Jaina... laughing.

It was a strangely pleasant sound to Sylvanas’s ears.

“Ah!” Jaina’s eyes were scanning the horizon, “It shouldn't be another moment, come on." She grabbed Sylvanas's arm and pulled her towards the front of the ship and pointed needlessly at the sunset, "Watch best you can without burning out your eyes, specifically towards the top of the sun."

She allowed herself to be dragged along, gazing as instructed. The glow of the orange over the mostly flat horizon was bright and a little hard on the eyes but Jaina didn't flinch, watching with her hand still on Sylvanas’s arm.

Suddenly, just as the orb was sinking below the skyline, the top of the sun seemed to turn green and a bright flash of light shot skyward before disappearing.

Sylvanas blinked, glancing over. "...was that magic?"

She was smiling softly in the rapidly darkening sky light, "... No. Just a trick of the light really. I thought it was magic when my father showed it to me as a child. When I learned what it really was I was disappointed but now... I think it's humbling. Something so beautiful and surprising and nothing more to it than just the interplay of natural elements. Some people think that it's what happens when a soul comes back from the dead, or it's a sign of poor fortunes. There’s a story that it’s what happens when the Tide Mother leaves the sea to bring rains... But as far as anyone's found it's just the way the light hits the air right in that second."

"Souls coming back from the dead, huh?" Sylvanas said with a faint smile. "I'd know a bit about that."

Was she just... trying to gear herself up for that third rite? Probably. She wasn't really looking forward to that moment. For many reasons.

But there was no denying that Jaina was... attractive. With the stress and suffering washed away by the sea, softening the hard eyes.

Jaina snorted, "Well, yes, obviously." She turned the other way, looking back over the ship, "Do you sleep?"

"After a fashion. Why?"

"Because I'll be tired after the first rite is done. I'm already a bit tired if I'm honest. I was just pondering if we should rest first or rest after."

"I can watch over the ship if one of us needs to stay up," Sylvanas offered. "Not that I'm sure what I could do other than scream if something goes wrong. I'm good at screaming," she added with a smirk.

"Are you?" Jaina intoned... Then immediately pressed on, "Why don't I rest before, then you can rest after while I guide the ship to a spot it will be secure."

Sylvanas nodded. Firmly pushed Jaina’s quip out of her mind. "Go ahead. Anything I need to know?"

"... Don't set it on fire?" She hummed, "The ship's warded. I'll know if anything bad happens. Otherwise... Make yourself at home." She hesitated and then nodded, "I'll only sleep a few hours."

Sylvanas nodded. "Sleep well, then. Don't worry. Hurling fireballs isn't one of my powers."

"You've surprised in the past. I'd hate to underestimate you." Jaina called as she walked down below decks again, disappearing into the captains quarters.

Sylvanas slowly paced the ship. Feeling it, looking out over the sea. Then she took banshee form, slipping up to the crow's nest, and settled in.

There was a certain peace up here. It was nice to get away from... everything. Nathanos and his needling, Saurfang's hostility, Baine's judgemental gaze... the responsibilities she'd taken on.

This at least she could be happy about.

When was the last time she’d had a chance to be alone? Really alone? Certainly not since becoming Warchief. It reminded her of being a scout back in the ranger corps in her youth. Away from the pressures and expectations of family.

Over the next few hours the orange sky faded to pink, then purple... And soon it was just her and the stars. The moon was just about new, nothing more than a tiny sliver of light and there was nothing to block out the utter expanse of the sky. This was different then seeing the blanket of stars it in a forest or on a mountain. It was like she could fall into the welcoming sky if she let go of the wood under her.

It reminded her of Northrend.

At that thought she abruptly began clambering back down to the deck again, feeling a wash of acute agoraphobia.

Maybe there was a reason she liked Undercity.

There was the sound of footsteps behind her as she touched down to the deck. Jaina's hair was free from the braid and she lacked the armoring and cloak she wore before. She looked barely awake, "... Are you alright?"

Sylvanas was clinging to the mast, she realised. Forcing herself to let go she adjusted her hood. "Fine. Did I wake you up?"

Silver white hair stood start against the dark of the deck as Jaina shook her head, "No. I just... decided not to sleep long." She ran a hand through her hair to get it out of her face, "Are you alright to get started then?"

"Of course." Sylvanas cleared her throat. "Which one was first? Ice or fire?"

"Fire." She half turned, "Let's do this in the captain's quarters." She led the way down.

The bed was still turned down from where Jaina had been sleeping, her cloak and armour tossed haphazardly onto the desk against the wall.

"This won't be too bad. Fire is powerful but fleeting. It stands at the top because it's the most... 'surface' of the disciplines for lack of a better simplification.”

Sylvanas nodded, glancing around. "What do I need to do? Magic was never something I had much talent with, unless you count my... more recent powers."

"Relax. I'll take care of the magic side of things. All you need do is relax and..." She frowned briefly and then shook her head, "Take off the gloves."

The Forsaken woman glanced down, then slowly peeled them off. Flexing her long fingers. Took a slow breath. Even if she didn't need to breathe... it was still relaxing. And you still needed air to talk, after all.

"Now come here." Jaina’s command was soft. Her own hands raising, shimmers of heat and power already rising from her fingertips as she gestured for Sylvanas to stand in front of her, motioning her closer.

Sylvanas eyed her for a moment. She’s asking me to trust her. Who am I kidding? I don’t know what this involves. She could be about to do anything to me. But… I agreed to this. This is what I need to do.

When was the last time she really trusted?

But finally, she stepped forward.

"Raise your hands, like this, to mirror mine." Jaina didn't comment on the hesitation, focused and serious again.

The heat coming from her fingers wasn't painful but it was intense. It was made more so by the contrast. Cold, dead flesh meeting magically charged heat. But she obeyed. Red eyes boring into Jaina.

For her part Jaina didn’t break her gaze.

The sea blue they usually were snapped suddenly into a bright, glowing, icey color in contrast with the heat. The mage took a deep breath before she moved her fingers forward and pressed their hands together, her fingers not quite as long as Sylvanas's.

It felt like she'd just been plunged into a hot spring, her skin was heated, not just on her hands but across her body. As the heat spread and covered her Sylvanas could feel it concentrate in specific places. Almost painfully hot in a latice-work of points across her skin.

Jaina inhaled sharply, obviously feeling it as well, but her eyes never broke with Sylvanas's stare.

Sylvanas shuddered. It wasn't just heat she was feeling; as the magic that fuelled her body and kept her clinging to undeath were reacting and swirling through her, red and purple light spilling from her eyes in response. Uncontrolled, without the discipline or raw power of Jaina's magic, but... it was there.

Jaina's fingers laced with hers, gripping her hands lightly. Was this part of the ritual as well? It felt like something was both tugging at Sylvanas’s magic, at her actual soul, but also feeding into it.

It was as though the door to her soul had been knocked on and in return something in her had turned the lock open.

Then all at once the feeling faded. The heat receded, the magic relaxed... But the floor below them had been scorched with a complex magic circle. The ship around the creaked slightly as the pressure in the room eased away.

Sylvanas stumbled a little. Still holding onto Jaina's hands. "Well... that was... different... are you alright? Did I get any... um... death on you?"

Jaina looked a little dazed, her breathing was a bit unsteady. She didn’t think to let go of Sylvanas's either as she nodded, "The... influence is only going to deepen and then grow over time. That's just... That's just the nature of the beast." She finally managed to focus, "How are you feeling?"

"...warm." She let go with one of her hands, reaching out to touch Jaina's cheek without thinking, almost feeling… a little drunk. "Do I feel warm?" She hadn’t been warm in… a long time. It was surprising how pleasant it was.

Jaina's cheek wasn't so warm in comparison, though she was still warmer.

She'd definitely just leaned into the touch with a nod that was almost a nuzzle. No hesitation in her bleary state when she mumbled in response, "Warm."

Just as quickly Jaina stiffened and straightened up, pulling her hand away. The spell broken as she pressed on in the most dignified way that she could, "Well... that was the rite of fire. Ice will have to wait until we're in the Undercity."

Jaina’s cheeks were dusted with pink but her expression was as much business as she could muster, "Somewhere where you spend the most time or have the most memories would be best."

"Fire for the mage, ice for the partner, and... passion for both?" Sylvanas guessed. Pulling away as well. Quelling her own body’s treacherous urge to blush in response. Pull yourself together, Sylvanas. It’s just a little heat. And she was tired.

"Not exactly. Fire for the body, Ice for the mind, arcane for the soul is probably the most accurate summation but this is old magic. It’s not ever so exact as more modern complex forms. It’s more about binding the two of us together. It's a shared experience all about creating pathways between our metaphysicalities. By the end of this, if I feel something strongly enough you'll know it. Same for me. We'll always know the direction of the other... And our magics will have effects on each other. I have heard that separation is very uncomfortable afterwards. Even if just for a few days."

"Well... good thing our next stop was always going to be Undercity for a while." Sylvanas steadied herself as a wave shifted the ship a little. "Perhaps I underestimated the level of connection we were going to experience."

"I did ask you if you knew what it meant." Jaina’s tone held a hint of warning, "It's too late to back out now."

Sylvanas gave her a look. "I didn't say I was having second thoughts. Are you?" Despite her conflicted feelings… it wasn’t a lie. This was the path she had chosen. She wasn’t in the habit of faltering once she’d begun something.

The mage’s tone was flat and firm, zero hesitation or room for doubt, "No."

Despite the wave and the rocking of the ship, Jaina had yet to stumble or shift. She barely acted like it was there at all.

"You should rest." Jaina finally broke the eye contact that they hadn’t been able to shake sense the ritual began and turned towards the door.

Sylvanas eyed Jaina’s back for a moment. "...all right," she said. "Are you taking us north to Lordaeron, then?"

The silver-haired mage nodded, "Near to it."

"Very well. ...good night, Jaina." Sylvanas paused. "...where should I sleep?"

That messed up bed was dangerously inviting. But it was Jaina's. She wasn't going to assume.

Jaina paused, "... We'll be sharing a bed eventually, but I can let you into one of the guest quarters if that appeals?"

Sylvanas glanced back at the bed. "If you're willing to let me use this one, I'll just stay here."

She hated how meek she sounded. But she'd hate herself even more if she got pushy or forceful. You’re a guest here. It’s polite. It doesn’t mean you’re being weak.

No. It was more than that.

Why, though? Why with this one particular woman? She'd killed and ordered the deaths of thousands. She'd used the Blight repeatedly and without hesitation. She used the Val'kyr to harvest graveyards and battlefields for more troops and recruits for the Forsaken. Not once had she hesitated, or had a single second thought. Not once had she had any regrets.

So why with Jaina was she walking on tiptoe, scared to assert herself? And why now? What had changed? This marriage was just… politics. There was no real affection here for either of them.

Right?

The tension eased out of Jaina’s shoulders just a little and she glanced over with a faint smile, "Go ahead, it's very comfortable. Though I'd appreciate it if you took the pauldrons off at least... I'd rather not be patching holes in it so soon after I got it." She gave a small incline of her head as she turned back and pulled the door shut quietly behind her.

There were no answers to be had here. Or, likely, anywhere.

Sylvanas just scowled quietly as she squirmed out of her armour. Dumped the lot of it. Suddenly just wanting to be comfortable. Naked, she slid under the covers, curled up.

It smelled faintly of Jaina.

It was nice.

It was the kind of smell that belonged to a creature far older than Jaina was in reality. Sharp senses let her pick out the little things beyond just the scent of a living person. A touch of salt, a hint of the arcane, shades of old paper and hemp...

It was still a little warm from where she had been sleeping earlier too, adding to the magiced warmth slow to leave Sylvanas’s body.

She viciously banished all thoughts of scents and warmth from her mind, and closed her eyes.

***

Being dead meant dreamless sleep usually, with rare exceptions. But that was not the night she had. Flashes of... something filled her mind. Backs turned against her. No one would listen to her... And then there were those on her side who kept urging her on. Who kept telling her she was chosen in some way. That she had to do this and that...

All of it slipping between her fingers like sand.

Like the ashes of the dead.

She slowly roused herself from sleep. Perhaps torpor was a better term for what the undead did, but this... this felt like the closest she'd had to sleep since she'd died.

This magical exchange was already proving to be strange.

How long had she been out for?

It was still dark from what she could see out the rear window, except that she could tell from the very faint glow left on the horizon that it was earlier in the night then when she’d gotten to sleep. She must have slept a whole day away. The sky's yawning expense was smothered comfortingly by grey clouds, barely spitting rain pattering down on the Proudmoore and the softly rolling sea.

And she could hear a very different kind of song being sung above decks.

Sylvanas slid out of bed, got to work buckling her armour on. Headed up to the deck, listening.

It was mournful to say the least.

"And buried deep beneath the waves,
Betrayed by family
To his nation, with his last breath cried:
'Beware the daughter of the sea'."

Unlike the singing she’d caught from the other day Jaina’s voice was softer, not putting much effort into it. Like some kind of ritual or duty then anything joyful or relaxing.

Sylvanas listened. Frowning slightly. Then she clambered up to the deck itself, moving over towards the singer. Not saying anything.

Jaina stood at the front, rather damp from the rain but she didn't seem to care much. She didn't hear Sylvanas behind her, utterly lost in her thoughts it seemed. In her palm was the anchor of Kul Tiras and she was studying it like it might reveal some hidden truth, one hand against the mast to steady herself.

"I heard, I heard,
Across a moonlit sea
The old voice warning me;
'Beware, beware,
The daughter of the sea.'
Beware... Beware of..."

The song’s words were almost just mutters at this point rather than actually singing and at that point she completely gave up on it. Jaina sighed, resting her head against the mast, "Am I making the same mistake again, father?"

"You didn't marry Thrall," Sylvanas said, breaking her silence.

Jaina jumped, clutching the pendant to her chest. As she rounded, free hand raising with crackling cold energy she had the snarl Sylvanas had seen more than a few times in battle…

But almost immediately Jaina stopped and dropped it with a shaky sigh, magic dissipating quickly, "Sylvanas. You scared me. How are you feeling?"

"All right, I suppose. I don't normally sleep for that long. Or dream."

"The dead don't dream?" She slipped the pendant over the neck again, "I'm not surprised you were out for so long. The rites aren't easy and you... Well, you're more tied into your magic then even I am." Jaina looked her over, "I didn't want to rouse you when I could feel the rites still settling... What did you dream about?"

She leaned against the mast. "...glimpses of what it's like to be you, I think. Confusing alternations between everyone telling you that you're wrong, and people telling you that you're special and have a destiny."

"... Oh." Jaina looked up, a little unsettled by that. She swallowed after a moment, looking down and trying to school herself back, "To be clear... Thrall and I were never together. That was never our relationship."

She'd apparently decided she'd rather talk about this then... any of that.

"I didn't think you were," Sylvanas said casually. "There were a lot of rumours and speculation. Crude jokes. But the Thrall I knew was... well, not that type of man. Honestly I found him disappointing."

Jaina leaned back on the mast next to her, "He was the definition of 'Good Intentions'... He made me think we would really manage it... For a while."

"For all that it's called the Horde and was started by Orcs... I don't think the Horde could ever find peace with an Orc in charge as it is," Sylvanas said. "Thrall could only make alliances with a common enemy. Garrosh was a bloodcrazed monster. Saurfang is an argumentative idiot who craves warfare but only on his terms."

"I don't really know Saurfang but in passing. He seemed honourable..." Jaina looked up at her curiously, waiting for correction.

"And yet who were the only two to stand up against Garrosh during his reign? Cairne and myself. No orc raised a hand to him. Including Saurfang, despite his promises and rumblings. Not until Thrall returned." She shook her head. "He talks a big game. Mostly he's a bitter old man who wishes he was dead but can't find a fight that will end him."

Jaina groaned, "Oh good. That's exactly what we need to be dealing with..." She rubbed her eyes, "Maybe he and Genn will do us both a favour-" she paused, "... Sorry. That's too far."

"Is it? I'm half expecting to hear the news of worgen assaulting my lines somewhere even with everything signed. Honestly it's a good idea, I'll send Saurfang to deal with it. He'd enjoy the challenge and the chance to be self righteous."

Jaina seemed less angry than long-suffering, "And what happens when Genn tries to drag Anduin into it? And Saurfang does the same to Baine? It's a good thing I’m already silver because I'd be turning grey just thinking about it..."

"And now you get to deal with all the complaints of both sides," Sylvanas said with a sadistic chuckle. "You fool."

Jaina looked up, "Hardly the first time I've been called that, Windrunner, try harder." A small smile was fighting to get onto her face though, "Is it too late to write into the nuptials a mandatory wifely pampering after a certain stress threshold has been breached?"

"I don't know, define 'pampering'," Sylvanas returned with a smirk.

"I enjoy baths and books... a good wine?" Jaina chuckled, blushing faintly, "Speaking of, I've stood out in the rain long enough... I'm freezing."

"I could probably arrange all of those," Sylvanas hummed. "Or at the very least, just carry you through the portal to Silvermoon."

The warchief paused, blushing faintly as she processed what she'd just said.

Jaina's lip disappeared briefly between her teeth before she spoke, "... That puts you ahead of most of my past relationships." She smiled faintly, "It's very sweet of you. Hopefully it won't come to that."

"Carrying you? I'm fairly sure I could manage it, you're not that heavy." Sylvanas immediately retorted.

Why the fuck would her mouth not shut up?

Jaina snorted, "I've been carried before, Windrunner." Jaina suddenly leaned up and pressed a soft, very brief, kiss to her cold cheek, "I meant that you're surprisingly thoughtful, but to be honest I don’t much like being carted around like luggage. I'm going to go dry off and then we can get to Lorderan. We've lost enough time with you having to sleep off the first rite."

Sylvanas froze up. Touched her cheek softly.

Suddenly very glad that the dead couldn't cry. Because the urge to do so was welling up inside her, and she didn’t understand why.

Jaina couldn't seem to read her expression, taking it for something else and dimming, "I... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

Sylvanas took a slow breath. Awkwardly pushed aside her feelings. "No. It's fine. We... are married. And rather shortly we'll have to do something far more intimate. I was just... surprised."

Jaina nodded, "That's a necessity though. You made it clear you weren't going to force anything on me, I should at least reciprocate in kind. I should have asked or… something."

"There's a difference," Sylvanas said shortly. "You should get changed. We're probably close enough for me to contact Undercity to prepare for our arrival."

Jaina frowned in confusion, ignoring the last bit, "What's the difference?"

Sylvanas glanced at her. A dozen different responses flitting through her head. They all seemed dramatic... or aggressive... or hostile... or dishonest...

"It doesn't matter. Thank you for considering my feelings on the matter. But you don’t need to.”

Jaina's frown deepened, "Windrunner." She started in a much more serious voice, "Why is there a difference?"

Sylvanas exploded into banshee form red eyes and ghostly visage lunging at Jaina. "I said it doesn't matter!" she shrieked angrily. Then she flew up to the crow's nest in a blur.

At least the sky didn't seem to want to eat her with all the cloud-cover this time...

A few moments later she heard the door down into the ship close.

The Banshee Queen huddled up there. Buried her face in her hands.

Jaina. Jaina was doing something to her. Something she didn't understand. Maybe it was the magic exchange. She felt so damn weak. So damn powerless. It was strange, unsettling. Made the urge to kill Jaina rise again. Anything but... weakness.

They were still alone... And then they'd be in Undercity. She could do it now and be done with it. And she'd have time and space to rally forces for the war that would spark.

But she'd be rid of Jaina. Rid of her influence. Rid of her proud nature. Rid of her songs. Her warmth. The small smiles. The smell of books and hemp. The surprisingly genuine laughter...

Rid of alarmingly gentle kisses to her cheek...

Yes. Undercity. Jaina would be alone and vulnerable. It wouldn't even take a fight. Just a painless toxin. She'd fall asleep and never wake up. Just as she'd planned for Vereesa and Alleria. An unknowing death. And then...

Well, she'd have time to decide about whether it was worth burying Jaina or raising her. With that much power she might even incarnate as a lich. That could be interesting.

Yes. It was the perfect plan.

She went back to hugging herself morosely.

Undeath changed you though, no one was exempt. How would it change Jaina? And if she was raised would she be controllable? A lich of that power could be quite... troublesome.

Then again, it could be worth the risk. Who could stand against the Horde with the Forsaken backed by a lich who could eclipse Kel'thuzad? Perhaps she could even return to Northrend and destroy the lich king. End that unfinished business for good. Take on the mantle of the one true Queen of Death.

So many dreams she'd had could be within her grasp.

So why was she just... moping here? Hiding in the rigging?

Well... because she wasn't going to do any of it.

She was just going to sit here with nothing but the rain and her anxiety-laden suffering for company.

There was a creaking down below a few minutes later, "Windrunner. Whenever you're finished sulking?"

"I am not sulking," she called down. I’m brooding. There’s a difference..

"... Are you ready to leave or aren't you?" Jaina didn't exactly sound like she was buying it either.

Sylvanas pulled herself together. I started this. I won’t hide from it now. Whatever this woman is doing to me… I will survive.

She floated down to the deck, reforming from her banshee form, her expression as cold and unreadable as ever. "Let's go," she said with a sigh.

Chapter Text

The portal opened, and the two women stepped into the old, ruined throne room of Lordaeron.

Jaina had changed into fresh clothes, reclaimed her armor and cloak, her hair somewhat dried. Her expression neutral, avoiding looking at Sylvanas.

Sylvanas didn't say anything either. What could she say?

It was politics. This was nothing but politics. She and Jaina would push through and get over it. Then Jaina would leave and things would go back to normal. Well. Normal for Sylvanas Windrunner. Minus the invasion plans. She’d just focus on mending the fractures of the Horde, finding ways to help promote the Forsaken...

She avoided looking at the throne, as always. She hadn't been here, of course, but... the bloody end of the royal family of Lordaeron wasn't exactly a secret. It didn’t bother her, exactly; death had a way of claiming your ability to feel empathy. But it was… an unpleasant reminder of how she and her people had ended up in this state.

And there were a lot of bad memories here. Personal ones.

Jaina paused, staring at the throne, but she said nothing and a moment later turned away to follow Sylvanas. The last time she’d been here, they’d been reclaiming the city from the Legion and the Apothecaries, hardly a time for sightseeing or coping with baggage from the past. Now… well, Sylvanas’s hostility tainted the moment in its own way.

Down the back passages. Two huge abominations guarded the lift down, and they saluted clumsily at their approach. Before long, they were looking out over the grand central plaza of Undercity, and definitely drawing some attention. A living human, no less than Jaina Proudmoore, in the heart of the city of the dead...

Jaina kept her back straight and if any nervousness entered her mind it didn't show at all.

She was in too sour a mood to allow herself to be intimidated.

Nathanos loomed before them, murmuring something to Sylvanas, then bowed to Jaina. "Welcome, Lady Windrunner," he said calmly. "Undercity welcomes you."

Jaina hadn't had many interactions with Sylvanas's lieutenant, but he seemed to be an arrogant and abrasive man for the most part. She'd never needed to look deeper. After all, he'd been an enemy.

"My name remains Proudmoore," she said with a calm surety, "Thank you for your welcome."

"Oh?" He glanced at Sylvanas, who gave him a look.

"You have your instructions, Nathanos, now carry them out. Shoo. Come, Proudmoore." Sylvanas pushed past him, a couple of dark ranger bodyguards seemingly materialising from nowhere to flank them as they walked.

It was a strange experience for Jaina. Walking through a Horde city with nobody but herself for defence. She was putting her life in Sylvanas's hands. This bitchy, temperamental psychopath who clearly had some issues.

Clear issues and possibly viewed her as a weak thing she was going to have to put up with. How else was she supposed to take that there were double standards? She didn't stop herself from looking around at what they were passing, but she didn't get caught up in it. She needed to remain on guard against all of them. Just in case.

There were a lot of soldiers. Armed and armoured undead, watching her with that kind of mild, generalised hostility that didn't seem personal. Just... resentful of someone living intruding here.

But there were also ordinary people. Citizens just going about their business. It was almost surreal, after so many years of war and conflict, to be reminded that much of Sylvanas’s nation was made up of ordinary people who just happened to no longer breathe.

She didn't feel like she might be attacked on the spot despite the glares, so that was something. But this place didn't feel welcoming. Moving into a guarded passageway that brought them out in Sylvanas's throne room was a relief, just getting away from that pressure.

She'd seen all of this before, of course. A while ago, and infested with a lot more demons. But the doors into the back area were unknown territory, and the guards stayed behind as they passed into...

Well. In truth, it felt as much like a dungeon as anywhere else in this strange, oppressive underground city. But it felt more like a home. And Sylvanas had obviously made an effort to soften the harsh stone. Banners and tapestries, many of them clearly elven; perhaps recovered from Quel'thalas. The furniture didn't look enormously comfortable, lacking much in the way of padding; there was an emphasis on 'easily cleaned' given the kind of people who'd usually be visiting. A lot of wood and leather.

"Well... here we are," Sylvanas said, suddenly sounding awkward.

Jaina looked around, nodding, glancing at Sylvanas directly for a brief moment before she looked away, "I'm guessing fresh food is not likely to be on hand?"

"I made arrangements in advance," she said. "And while we can just eat dead rats and such, a lot of Forsaken still like... more normal food. It's the line between mindless soldier and thinking person."

Jaina stepped up to one of the more intricate tapestries. She was sure she'd seen something similar somewhere, "A meal would be appreciated. The last two I had were conjured and it's never a good idea to rely on that."

"Of course." Sylvanas gestured around. "Make yourself at home. This place... well, it's as much yours as mine now. I'll be back with a meal." She turned to leave.

Jaina nodded, not really caring if Sylvanas saw it or just thought she hadn't responded.

That altercation had really left her in a foul mood hadn't it?

Why did it matter so much that Sylvanas wasn't being open? What had she expected? Blunt and honest weren't actually the same things in the end... She leaned her head on the wall with a sigh. Maybe entertaining the idea of living here, even part time, was a stupid idea. Obviously they could get along alright but... God she'd really called this a 'relationship' hadn't she? Stupid. Utterly foolish.

Jaina did her best to get comfortable while she waited.

Eat, perform the rite, and then she'd go back to her ship. That'd be for the best. Now she knew where this was, she could just make a portal here when she needed to. And her bed was a damn sight comfier sounding then whatever Sylvanas had tucked away.

Assuming Sylvanas had a bed at all and didn't just brood on a chair.

It was really easy to picture that actually.

The undead elf returned about ten minutes later. Clutching a tray laden with food.

There seemed to be a bit of an emphasis on meat; which made sense, given how carnivorous the Scourge had been. But there was fruit, vegetables, some delicacies that were probably imported from Silvermoon. Sylvanas cleared her throat. "Follow me." She sounded... almost apologetic.

Jaina tried not to frown too much. Where was Sylvanas's mood going now? Not even the Tide Sages would be able to tell her. She got up, following after the elf.

But her sheepishness did stir a desire to try and talk.

"You wouldn't happen to have a fireplace down here, would you?"

Sylvanas pushed open a door into a smaller area. This... this was obviously her sanctum.

A throne room, an outer area to meet people in, and an actually comfortable little nook. Sylvanas put a lot of shields around herself. The furniture here was obviously painstakingly restored pieces from the palace high above. The table... didn't she recognise that table from her time with Arthas long ago? The chairs likewise? One of those private little breakfast area things.

And yes, there was a fireplace. Sylvanas set the tray down on the table, picked up a handful of powder and cast it into the grate, where a fire roared to life on the logs.

Jaina's steps behind Sylvanas slowed until she came to a full stop, staring at the restored wood and finery.

She'd thought seeing the empty castle and the dusty throne had been difficult.

This was almost too much. Even the fire roaring to life didn't pull her attention away... Or hide her distant but tight expression.

Sylvanas paused. Glanced at her. "There's a lot of memories here for you too, aren't there?" she said with an inscrutable expression.

Jaina ripped her eyes away from the delicately carved knotwork on the edge of the table, clearing her throat and shaking her head, "Sorry. I... Wasn't expecting to see anything like this again. I'd have thought you'd have things imported from Silvermoon."

"Some. The bed is Silvermoon made. But... much of Undercity was scavenged from the old city above. I didn't see any reason to leave the palace untouched. Although... some things I avoided."

Which parts? Jaina thought.

Gods she did not want to know.

In an attempt to own it she stepped forward, putting her gloved hand onto the back of the chair closest to her, feeling the grain of the wood slide under the leather as she ran her fingers over it, "... Some things are better left that way."

'Jaina? There's something I'd like to ask you...'

Jaina pulled her hand away like it had been bitten, rejecting the memory, and turned towards Sylvanas, looking for any kind of distraction, "Thank you for the fire. I wasn't expecting it to be so cold."

Sylvanas inclined her head. "We don't really feel the cold, but... we appreciate heat." She sat opposite Jaina, cleared her throat. "I'm... sorry about earlier."

"Earlier?" Jaina replied flatly.

Either she was talking about Nathanos's mistake...

Or Jaina did not feel like giving it to her that damn easily.

She felt justified though, Sylvanas had gone all... Banshee. That was more than a little extreme.

"I screamed at you and told you to fuck off," Sylvanas said, her glower suggesting that she knew Jaina knew, and fuck you for drawing this out.

Jaina was not swayed, "Screamed is... a word for it. Do you actually want to tell me what you meant now?"

Her expression tightened. "Not really."

"Then save your apology for when you do," the mage responded, "We were doing fine until you decided to make this difficult. If you think that I'm simply unequal to you then I'd rather you say it than try and spare my damned feelings."

"Believe me, Jaina, sparing your feelings is the last thing on my mind. You certainly have never indicated interest in sparing mine," Sylvanas countered wearily.

"Then what the hell is the problem?" Jaina snapped, "Are there Horde secrets hiding behind the answer as to why my wanting to take your feelings into account is different then the opposite? This seems like the stupidest hill to decide to plant your flag in."

"Just... eat. We'll talk about this tomorrow," Sylvanas said. Refusing to meet her gaze.

Jaina scowled, looking down at the plate. But she didn't eat immediately. Anger made her cautious rather than reckless these days and she cast her hand over it. She'd rather eat cold food then poisoned food.

Sylvana's gaze flickered. "I swore I wouldn't kill you. Do you doubt me that easily?"

"You? Only out of habit. Your people? I'll work up to trusting them." Especially Nathanos.

And the fact that 'I won't kill you' didn't mean 'I won't harm you'.

But... she ate. If only to wash down the taste of bitterness.

"Trust takes time," Sylvanas said. "And that goes both ways, Pr-" She paused. "Jaina."

The mage sighed, "Yes. I'm very acquainted with that fact." But... She relented, if only a little, "...Sylvanas."

Sylvanas sighed softly. Got to eating herself. "So," she said, casting around for a change of topic. "Ice next?"

"Yes." She ate a little quickly, rather hungry. Conjured food just wasn't as nourishing to the one who conjured it, "It will be more intense than Fire. I imagine that will go doubly for us."

She shifted. "Frost is inseparably tied to the undead, it's true."

"The Ice rite is tied to the mind, it's somewhat linked to the realm of death, but... Considering your state as a banshee and reaction to the first rite I expect this will cause a similar, but more pronounced effect." It... could also intensely mess with her own mind considering her familiarity with Ice magic. Honestly she was starting to wonder if that first rite really had been as normal as she assumed. She’d obviously never performed it before and even she had to admit that books could only describe things so far...

"Best that you're well rested before we get into that, then," Sylvanas said. "I'll make sure there's food ready when we're done. Food and the fire."

She nodded, she was rather tired after steering the flagship about all day while Sylvanas slept. she'd planned to just push this through and then go back to it but...

"... Where should I sleep?"

"You let me use your bed," she said. "Mine is all yours. Unless you'd prefer other arrangements."

"No." Fine, they couldn't manage some basic things... But this could still at least function for now, "This will be fine. Thank you."

Sylvanas got to her feet. Nudging open a door. As suggested, there was an elven bed there, all veils and silk and ornate designs. "We'll find a way to live with each other, Jaina," she said wearily. "It'll take time. But we'll work it out."

"I hope so." She'd followed Sylvanas over quietly, glancing inside and was actually rather relieved. Had it been a refurbished one from above she'd never even step in the room.

A moment's hesitation and then she gently touched Sylvanas's arm, "I mean that." Then she stepped inside.

Sylvanas laid a hand on Jaina's shoulder briefly, pulled away. "Sleep well." Then she gently shut the door.

First night in Undercity.

Perhaps the first of many.

She took a moment to collect herself before she started mechanically undoing her braid, pulling loose the light armour and overcoats. She didn't get naked, she rarely felt safe enough to sleep like that. But she did get down to her underclothes before she pushed through the drapery around the bed and slid into the covers.

This was manageable. This was workable. She just had to keep her expectations in check.

***

Jaina walked through the halls of the old palace. Arthas was waiting for her. They were going to discuss the wedding. People bustling everywhere, getting ready for it.

She took the deep queasy unease for excitement. She wasn't dressed for it but... Well, she could get ready later. Arthas was waiting for her.

He was in the grand throne room. Where was Terenas? Probably busy elsewhere. But there was Arthas. Looking as determined and dashing as ever. Lounging on the throne. Silly boy. He wasn't really supposed to, but he did from time to time, when nothing was going on.

"You know you'll get told off again." She smiled... Even as her stomach twisted angrily, begging her to leave, "Were we going to talk about plans or were you going to lounge around like a silverpaw?"

"I can do both," Arthas said with a laugh. Rose to his feet, approached her. "Jaina, my love. How are you doing?" His hand brushed her cheek. Cold. Why did he feel cold?

Oh god. Oh god no. Please just make it stop.

"I'm fine." She snorted, leaning into his hand with a teasing grin, "What, did you expect me to be nervous marrying the future king of Lordaeron? Not on your life."

"I'm so glad. I've got some big plans. Come, I want to show you something." He wrapped his arm around her, setting off towards the courtyard.

She leaned into him with a chuckle even while she felt panic clawing at the back of her mind. It was like some distant part of her was screaming, "Big plans? This ought to be good."

Out into the courtyard. People were assembled, making preparations, but they all stopped, turning to cheer as the two emerged. "Big plans," he confirmed. Drew his sword. A sword? What happened to his hammer?

He raised it in the air, and energy pulsed out. Across the courtyard, the ground splintered, bony fingers clawing as their owners emerged. Horrific undead monsters shaking off the earth as the crowd panicked and tried to flee. Screams of horror turned to wails of pain and terror as the Scourge began pouncing on the servants and soldiers, devouring them alive.

"What do you think?" Arthas said, in the tone of one asking for an opinion on a colour choice.

“... Stop.” She'd seen this before, she'd seen it before... And finally the fear gripped her wholly, the spell of her long ago love-affair broken, "Stop! Arthas! Please, stop this!" She tried to pull away.

He turned, and glowered at her with cold eyes through the Helm of Domination. "This is the future, Jaina." The Lich King grasped her shoulder tightly, holding her in place, his voice a harsh growl. "Death will claim all, and there will be peace. Isn’t that what you want?"

"No! Listen to me!" She gathered power into her hand for a portal, she had to get away, had to warn everyone, had to stop him, "Why won't you listen to me?! It never had to be this way!"

"You'll see," he intoned, a clawed gauntlet tightening on her. “Join me, Jaina. Join me in death.” Pain, as Frostmourne plunged into her chest. Deathly chill spread over her.

Jaina clutched at the blade, felt her blood gushing out and freezing into crimson ice, the feel of her soul being slowly torn away. But when she looked up, it wasn’t Arthas holding the blade.

"Join me," Sylvanas repeated, clawed gloves digging into Jaina’s shoulder as she twisted the blade with a savage smile.

Chapter Text

Jaina screamed as the air left her, ice exploded around her across the room. She was somehow free, somehow able to move again and she did so, kicking back, slamming into an iced-over headboard, surrounded by elven finery.

Her scream was still echoing in the chamber as she finally realised that she had been asleep. She'd been having a nightmare. The bed was covered in frost, it reached across the floor and crept up the walls.

Realising the truth didn’t calm her exactly. It never did. All she could do was give in to the surge of terror and curl against her knees, sobbing quietly in the silent, frozen room.

The door pushed open, Sylvanas looming. "Jaina?" she asked frantically. "Jaina, what happened? Were you attacked?"

Jaina did her best to try and gather herself again, forcing ragged breaths to even as she swiped tears away with trembling fingers, "It's nothing! It's nothing." She didn’t look up.

Sylvanas knelt on the bed next to her. "You were screaming," she said quietly. "Nightmare?"

She was unable to calm the tremors even as she managed to dry her tears, "... They aren't... They haven't been so bad in a while. I'm sorry." She didn't want to show her tear-stained face to anyone, let alone Sylvanas.

Sylvanas touched her arm gently. "Is there anything... anything I can do?"

Jaina couldn't even feel bad for initially flinching away. An unconscious reflex. Especially after that particular nightmare. She swallowed heavily, hanging her head as she tried to figure out what to do. Usually she had some amount of space to herself and she could just take the time she needed to cry and calm down. She could theoretically chase Sylvanas off, send her away…

And yet.

The rites may not be finished but... this was her wife, wasn’t it?. There was nothing wrong with asking for what she needed in moments of extreme duress. Right? Even if she was afraid? Even if she could still vividly imagine Sylvanas shoving Frostmourne deeper into her chest as life was violently sucked away from her?

"Hold me." She spoke so quietly she wasn't even sure an elf's ears would pick it up.

Sylvanas didn't respond for a moment. Then, slowly, gently, she wrapped her arms around Jaina.

"Was it... him?" The warchief asked finally.

Jaina's trembling only increased at first but she stubbornly pushed herself against Sylvanas chest, tucking her face against her shoulder. She refused to be afraid of this woman, "... Yes."

The elf was cold. Undead and cold. Just like Arthas had been in the end.

Stop thinking like that. Stop it. It's not helpful. She wasn't so cold as the literal Lich King...

And she wasn't so selfish as the boy that had been Jaina's first love.

There were things to worry about. But there was nothing to fear here.

If anyone might understand... Wouldn't it be Sylvanas? Arthas hadn't even killed Jaina. She must look ridiculous to this woman.

"I'm sorry."

Sylvanas just shook her head. Tightened her grip a little. "He's the reason that I'm glad that I don't dream," she said simply.

Jaina managed to undo the strain on her arms enough to carefully wrap her arms around the elf's waist, hugging her back, the trembling starting to fade a little. The thought of comparing what had happened to the two of them because of Arthas was incredibly sobering.

"I've only heard stories. Third hand accounts. I'm... I'm so sorry." Jaina wasn't usually this fragile, but a woman whose life had been taken and her soul tortured because of Jaina's own failure was trying to comfort her. It felt like a sick joke.

"I should have tried harder, but when it was all starting I just... Arthas had always been headstrong. I didn't think I'd change his mind and I couldn’t stomach what he was going to do. I didn't know what he'd end up becoming..."

Sylvanas shook her head. "I... don't want to talk about it," she said tightly. "But... thank you. It's surprising how rarely I… or any of my people... get any kind of sympathy for what we went through."

Jaina didn't blame her for this one. She actually relaxed even more, closing her eyes, "You don't have to talk about it." She said quietly. Her shaking was finally calmed, her tears dried up again. Nothing to fear here. It was just a nightmare. It was just an overactive guilty mind.

Her arms tightened around the ranger's waist.

Sylvanas's fingers gently caught in her hair. "Do you want to delay the rite of ice?"

She shivered at that, but didn't reject the touch, "No. I'll be fine, honestly." She just... didn't want to let go yet. It felt nice, "Besides, we've lost a lot of time, we have to complete the next rite before the previous one's magic degrades."

"Very well." Sylvanas gave a soft, only slightly forced laugh. "I'll make sure you get plenty of pampering afterwards."

She snorted, "I'm more worried about you, last time you slept an entire day away."

Jaina finally loosened her hold enough to pull back. Not completely out of the embrace, just... Enough to sit up and look her in the face.

Her nightmare paled in comparison to the real lines of Sylvanas's jaw and ears, the way her hair fell, the soft glow of red eyes against the darkness that made her skin look pale instead of blue...

Oh.

She... Was actually quite beautiful wasn't she?

That thought was gently folded into an envelope and... tucked into a drawer somewhere. Let's just not think about how pretty a dead woman was. That was… Definitely a thought Jaina was not ready to have yet.

Sylvanas gazed back at her, evidently a little confused, but not objecting. "I'm on my home ground. And I've got more in common with ice than fire," she pointed out. "I suppose we'll see."

"I guess we will." Jaina nodded, "Thank you, for this. I would have managed but... It's easier to do so this way."

The elf said nothing. Just shrugged, smiled a little sadly.

Then, seemingly on impulse, pressed a small kiss on her forehead. "You're welcome."

The mage flushed, not fighting it. Part of her wanted to demand if she was being pitied or coddled because after Kalec she had no interest in such things. But the rest of her was trying to think of reasons not to pull her closer and-

"Um... Did I interrupt anything? When will you have time for the rite?" Just move along. Nothing to see here. Just a mage slowly losing her mind. It would be fine.

Sylvanas shook her head. "I've cleared my schedule for a few days. Just to... make sure that everything is settled between us. You slept right through the night."

Ah yes. No windows down here. It was impossible for her to tell what time it was.

"... Remind me to get a clock." Jaina glanced around, then, without really thinking about it conjured a cup of tea for herself, a calming post-nightmare ritual, "No time like the present I suppose."

"As you wish. Perhaps... not in here? You've already destroyed these sheets."

The ice had not been kind to the bed linens.

Jaina glanced down, "... Ah. I'll replace those." She gave Sylvanas an apologetic grimace, "Wherever you feel is right."

Sylvanas got to her feet, offered her hand, and led the way into the front room. "There should be space in here," she suggested. Already peeling her gloves off.

Jaina had tugged on her pants at least for modesty's sake. She abandoned the half drank tea-cup on the table and approached.

When she held up her hands she finally looked into Sylvanas's eyes, "Just remember to relax."

The undead elf nodded. Holding her hands up, half-closing her eyes. Seeming much more relaxed than last time. Perhaps feeling more prepared, thinking she knew what to expect.

She took a deep breath... And reached for the power. The door between them was unlocked, now it was time to open it.

The cold of Jaina’s own magic never got to her like natural ice did. Her own cold was pleasant to her. She had no way of knowing if it was pleasant to Sylvanas though as she gathered the power in her hands before pressing their palms together. The room's temperature around them started to plummet abruptly. Much more than should have happened, but she didn’t have the time or space to think about how off this was from what she’d read in preparation for this. She had to focus and weave the magic correctly.

The same prickles of the arcane points across her body shivered as not just ice, but Sylvanas's own undead magics seeped in.

For Sylvanas... It was like being plunged into an icy sea, not quite close enough to the surface to reach it herself. But she could feel something reaching for her in a way, inviting her to grab on and be hauled up to safety.

And she grabbed for it. Once again her eyes glowed, red and cool blue flowing out of her as if to answer the arcane. This wasn't overwhelming like the fire had been. This was familiar but… different. Ice that didn’t feel like a prison, ice that didn’t hold malicious intent. The chill of a winter forest. Quiet but… Alive

An intense feeling of openness, of vulnerability, overtook Sylvanas suddenly but it was hard to say where it came from. In front of her Jaina had stepped forwards, lacing their fingers again... But this time she didn't maintain eye contact, she leaned forward and rested her forehead to Sylvanas's. It didn’t seem to be part of the ritual exactly.

Voices filtered through her mind that were not her own.

"It's your inquisitive nature I've come to rely on." An older man's voice.

"I understand, of course, but I'll be waiting if he does you harm, Jaina." Kael'thas, his voice not yet burdened with loss.

"Just... Be on your guard, Jaina. Please?" Kalecgos.

"Nowhere to run. You're mine now." Arthas... No. The Lich King.

And underneath it all that song.

Beware, Beware... Of me.

Sylvanas was prepared this time. There was more, but... she'd felt a touch of this before.

A few flickering glimpses of her own flowed the other way. Contextless, no clear or definite images, just sensations. Hate. Fear. Pain.

Failure.

Something that they had in common. Unbending wills... and a litany of failures.

On top of these sensations... she could feel Jaina's pulse. Not against her hands, it was like it was her own, separated only slightly from where her own heart would be beating.

There was a horrific... need. The murderous urge to take that pulse, to consume it and make it stop. Suppressed, subsumed, banished from conscious thought. But Sylvanas was undead, a weapon, a creation of the Legion, whatever else she was, and some things could never be entirely erased.

It was easier to push away because there was a different urge as well. To protect that life, like a delicate hatchling. To guard it.

And more than that… the unyielding steel of the elf’s mind, unbroken and unbreakable. Proof against instinct and influence alike. The first free undead. A shield against all from without… and to guard all the pain within.

The ice began to recede... But as it did Jaina slumped against her a little, breathing a little heavily.

"... So much... There's... So much..." She breathed, forehead falling onto Sylvanas's shoulder again, "You're so... contained..."

Sylvanas wrapped her arms around Jaina, shivering for a moment. "Yes," she said softly. "I suppose I am."

Below their feet the ice had brutally carved into the stone a similar kind of magic circle that had been burned into the Proudmoore Flagship.

Jaina hugged her close, surprisingly firm, "I knew that this would open that door but... I can feel you. It's like your soul is whispering to me."

"Really?" Sylvanas shifted. "Sometimes I'm not sure I still have that."

Sylvanas maintained the embrace for a quiet moment, twitching lightly. "I heard that song. It's like... it dominates all that you are."

Jaina was quiet for a moment longer and Sylvanas could almost actually feel her trying to sort her head out, "It's a song that's been mine since birth. My father sung it to me in the cradle with love... The Kul Tirans sing it now in anger. The lyrics change but... It's written into me deep as any magic."

And Sylvanas could just hear the faint lull of a father's doting voice; Ahoy ahoy, sweet daughter of the sea. Ahoy this child of mine…

"I have songs too," Sylvanas said after a time. "All of the banshees do. We made our own songs of mourning for all the dead of Silvermoon."

"... Can I hear yours?"

Sylvanas was silent for a time. Then, softly, she began to sing. Her voice surprisingly melodic.

"Anar'alah, Anar'alah belore... Sin'dorei... Shindu fallah na..."

Jaina knew enough Thalassian to know the meaning of the words. It was obvious what it was referencing. But... She couldn't help but find it beautiful anyway. She closed her eyes, hands tracing up Sylvanas' spine firmly to hold her closer.

The song finished, and Sylvanas closed her eyes. Leaning against Jaina. Silent. Shaking a little.

Jaina gently stroked her back, holding her tightly. But she didn't know how to help with this. She didn't know what she could do... Maybe lingering wasn't a good idea, "... I think maybe we should both have pampering. Trade off weekly on who pampers who?" She was teasing but it was beyond gentle, her voice soft.

Sylvanas shook herself off. Pulled back a little. "We'll see," she said with a small smile. "For now... I owe you breakfast. There's food already prepared."

Jaina nodded. This time she didn't think to check it.

Sylvanas sat next to her this time. Wrapped an arm around her as they ate. The sharing of songs had seemingly been... a way to safely open up. Something she very evidently wasn't good at.

It was very... gentle. And she was feeling very tired after the magic use...

Jaina didn't hesitate or shy away from the affection now, leaning against Sylvanas, wrapping an arm around her waist when she didn't need it.

She was rather exhausted though.

"I think I need more sleep after everything... How are you feeling?” Jaina said finally.

"Fine. Perhaps you should rest for a little. I'll make sure the world isn't burning, hmm?"

"You don't want to join me?" It came out before she realised what she was saying.

Sylvanas hesitated. "...I'm still Warchief. I have responsibilities. We'll see."

Wow her lids felt heavy.

Jaina blinked, trying to stay a bit more upright, "Alright... I-" She had to stifle a yawn, "Just don't overwork yourself... If you're tired like..." She rested her head on Sylvanas's shoulder, closing her eyes, "Like me..."

So tired.

And numb. Jaina couldn't feel her fingertips any more.

Sylvanas tilted her head. "...are you all right?"

She struggled to try and open her eyes again. Something was wrong, "No." The panic in her voice was smothered by this exhaustion that wasn't her own. It was a struggle to speak above a mumble.

"Sylvanas...? My fingers.... I can't..." She could barely open one eye. She felt like lead.

Like death.

And Sylvanas felt the fluttering of her panic and her heart even if her face and tone didn't show it.

Sylvanas didn't move for a moment. Frozen.

"Just as you wanted, Warchief," came a voice from the shadows. Nathanos emerging from the next room, smirking. "I used the batch you prepared for your sisters. Should I alert the Val'kyr to be ready?"

A tear slipped out as Jaina heard it and she couldn't help how badly it hurt.

Betrayed.

Again.

Every time.

EVERY TIME.

"Liar." She croaked in anguish, looking up at Sylvanas through her one cracked eye.

She tried to gather the power into her fingers, hurt and anger fueling her, Fire to purge the body, ice to empower her... Arcane to punish the bastard.

But Jaina was slipping down Sylvanas's shoulder, her strength fading. She had just enough power in her hand to form an icy dagger, her head swimming.

Forming the dagger was all she could manage, her breath was starting to come in gasps, she couldn't even feel the dagger in her hand and it slipped onto Sylvanas's lap as her fingers twitched spastically.

Darkness claimed her in the arms of the Banshee Queen.

Just like the dream had promised.

Chapter Text

Sylvanas wavered. Feeling the life fade from Jaina, watching her skin go pale.

A thousand things flickering through her mind.

“The blight reserves are topped up,” Nathanos continued. “With Proudmoore turned to our side, the Horde will be unstoppable. We won’t even need to attack Darnassus. Truly, your strategic genius knows no bounds.”

“What have you done?” Sylvanas breathed.

“Lady Windrunner?” he asked, confused. “I carried out your plan.”

Sylvanas clenched her fists. Clarity settling. "Antidote," she snarled. "Now. We'll discuss your version of initiative later, Nathanos. Get me the damned antidote!"

Nathanos looked nonplussed. "This is far too dangerous. Do you think she will forgive you? You always told me, never turn from a plan while on the field of battle.”

“This was not my plan!” Sylvanas snarled. A piercing scream ripped from her throat to summon her rangers, her eyes fixed on Nathanos.

“I carried out your will,” Nathanos said. “This was the plan we decided upon. The best use of the opportunity given. Proudmoore will ensure Forsaken supremacy and the destruction of the Alliance. With Stormwind blighted, nobody will have the forces to stand in our way.”

“Don’t quote my words back at me,” Sylvanas said. An edge of panic in her voice. “We discussed this as an option! I never gave the order!”

“When have you ever needed to? I’ve always been there to unleash your fury upon the living, at your beck and call.” He sounded so reasonable. So self-assured. So loyal.

“GIVE ME THE ANTIDOTE, NATHANOS!” Sylvanas howled. She felt Jaina’s pulse stutter, and her control vanished with it.

Her lieutenant held out a vial from his belt. His expression suddenly cold and blank as two Dark Rangers burst into the room, weapons out.

Sylvanas forced the vial between Jaina’s lips. “Arrest this traitor,” she growled. “Lock him away in the secure wing.”

“Yes, Dark Lady,” the forsaken elves chorused, grasping Nathanos by the arms. Hearing the fury in their leader’s voice, and not wanting to test it.

Sylvanas didn’t look up as they left. Just staring down at Jaina, holding her close.

Praying she hadn’t been too late.

Trying to work out what she was going to do.

And how she was ever going to regain Jaina’s trust.

***

When Jaina awoke, she was tucked up in bed, the sheets apparently replaced after her nightmare. Her head pounding, her body aching... but her heart was still beating, and the terrible numbness was gone.

Sylvanas was lying on the bed next to her, seemingly having fallen asleep while watching over her.

The mage groaned softly as the terribly ache of being alive took hold. Moving just.... hurt. She wasn't sure why she was alive… But it felt like a miracle had happened.

But she was not one to take being betrayed gently.

Through the ache she forced herself up, shoving off the covers and hauling herself quickly all but on top of Sylvanas. Straddling her waist and gripping her collar. Strangling her would do little good, the warchief didn’t have to breathe. Even still Jaina’s fingers would remain dangerously close to her neck to keep her under control if need be.

"Wake up." Her voice was loud, rough, low and dry. It made her wince as her head pounded all the harder now.

The elf's red eyes flicked open. "Jaina," she said quietly. Made no move to defend herself. "I'm... really glad you're feeling well enough to threaten me."

Jaina grimaced, gripping Sylvanas shirt tighter, "Don't." She growled, "Don't talk like you care two bits how I am." She wasn't in the best shape, Sylvanas would easily throw her off if she wanted to. She probably didn't seem that big a threat… Underestimating Jaina would be the last thing she did.

"How long?" the human all but spat.

Sylvanas didn't respond for a moment. "What do you mean?"

Jaina raised her hand, gratified as a lance of ice formed over it without hesitation. Her other hand remained on Sylvanas’s sternum, tightly fisted in the cloth of her shirt, pinning Sylvanas to the headboard, "How long were you planning this, Warchief?"

Pain was a great fuel for anger and anger, in turn, could fuel power quite well in a pinch.

Sylvanas opened her mouth, closed it. "...the idea of killing you and raising you while your guard was down came up as soon as you proposed," she said reluctantly. "Nathanos and I discussed it several times. But I decided against it after we had our private talk, and we found… something resembling common ground. It's crossed my mind since, but... please believe me, Jaina, he was not acting on my orders. He just… arranged everything without me. Assumed it’s what I wanted."

"Why?" Jaina hated how reasonable that sounded. From the ruthless pragmatist to the softer woman Jaina had gotten to see hints of… It would make sense. Jaina wished she’d just tried to spin a pretty lie, "Why should I believe you? And don't tell me because I'm still alive."

Her arm was shaking from holding it up and her body was begging her to lay back down… She wasn’t still poisoned, was she?

Sylvanas swallowed. "...ask me anything you wish. I'll answer any question. I'll even tell you about my... double standard, as you put it."

Jaina grit her teeth, "Fine. We'll start there."

The Forsaken elf looked away. The usual veneer of arrogance and sarcasm gone, leaving her awkward and… something else. "The difference between you and me is... at your worst, you're still human. You can be angry, and vengeful, and destructive, but you're still... you. At my worst..."

She trailed off. Looking like she was almost tempted to take the icicle through the skull rather than finish that sentence.

"Tell me!" Jaina barked.

"At my worst I could turn into Arthas," Sylvanas snapped. Seeming to deflate as the words left her.

The room echoed with that name for a moment, like the ghosts in these walls became restless upon hearing that cursed name again.

Jaina sat over Sylvanas, arm raised, sharp lance of ice at the ready… But she hesitated in stillness. She was caught just searching the other woman’s face. Sylvanas was afraid of becoming Arthas?

Was she like Arthas?

Sylvanas was a killer. A warrior. A ranger. A commander and a queen.... a monster and a hero.

Sylvanas was her wife.

The shard of ice fractured and slowly dissipated in a shimmer. Jaina let go of Sylvanas's collar, having to plant her hands on either side of Sylvanas head, leaning over her tiredly. Everything hurt and it was hard to stay upright like this but she’d be damned if she collapsed like some waif.

Even if an anxious twist in her gut joined the other pain she felt and for the hundredth time since she’d proposed to Sylvanas Windrunner she internally scolded herself for being a complete fool.

"You... will never be like Arthas." The anger had drained away leaving only exhaustion in the mage’s voice.

"How do you know?" Sylvanas said. Sounding small. Exposed and vulnerable. Almost like a scared child.

"You promise me that you had no knowledge or desire for Nathanos's poisoning me?" There was an edge of pleading to that question. Did Jaina actually believe Sylvanas or was simply that she wanted it to be true.

"I swear," Sylvanas said. "Jaina... I've never told anyone about what Arthas did to me. Some of my banshees know or could guess, but... that's our secret, our bond, our sisterhood. Everyone knows that I died defending Silvermoon. It's easy to figure out why I hate him. But... it's so much more than that. I know what he was capable of when it came to his enemies. And I know that I’ve come close to that, many times, in the name of survival and victory. I’ve tried to hold to lines that I won’t cross, but... there are moments. Moments where it would be so easy to stop being Forsaken and cross the line into Scourge, to return to what he made me. To become a Lich Queen and…" She trails off, closing her eyes, gritting her teeth for a moment.

Jaina couldn't help but want to comfort her. The elf’s tone was the quiet of thoughts only spoken silently at night to yourself. Never to anyone else. All Jaina knew was that she'd fought Arthas valiantly and died. Never had anyone told her more specifics than that and it sounded like there might have been more than just killing and raising her as a Banshee to use in his army…

Light that was bad enough as it was.

Did Jaina push for the answers that were being offered here?

If she got everything she wanted by force... What did that make her?

"... Then you won't turn in to him." She let her forehead rest against Sylvanas's, cool flesh easing her headache just a little, "You'll stop yourself from slipping down the slope... And when something tries to shove you down that road... I'll keep you from falling. You won't become Arthas because I... I won't abandon you."

Sylvanas slowly wrapped her arms around Jaina, and nuzzled into the woman’s neck in a simple, animal plea for comfort.

Jaina gasped softly in surprise but didn’t pull away, gently wrapping a hand around the elf’s head, holding her close. She was cold, the stillness of death impossible to escape, but… Honestly, Jaina was too tired and in pain to care. So she put her worries and her guilt to the side for one moment and hugged the banshee tightly.

Her feelings about Sylvanas were complicated at best. But they were both old, tired, vulnerable… and here and now, a simple embrace felt like what they both needed. Trust, or lack thereof, be damned.

Sylvanas slowly thudded back against the headboard. "I'm sorry, Jaina," she said softly. "I said that you would be safe here, and... then this happened."

Jaina frowned and sighed, a little irritated to be forced to deal with reality again so soon. She sank down, using Sylvanas as a body pillow. Her being cold was kind of nice if you didn’t think about the dead thing. It was like a gentle ice pack against her aching muscles, "What did you do with Nathanos?"

"I had him arrested. My rangers have him in custody. I trust them implicitly." Sylvanas paused, made a face. "Although I trusted Nathanos implicitly as well."

"You said it, not me,” the mage grumbled. No, this wouldn't do. Laying on her stomach was never the most comfortable thing. She shifted,using a knee to push Sylvanas’s legs apart… only so that she could sit between them and lean back on the Banshee. Nothing else. Too tired for anything else.

Sylvanas chair was surprisingly comfortable.

The ‘chair’ wrapped her arms around the woman, not objecting to being used as furniture. Sighed softly. "He's... he's always encouraged my more... militant side. I'm not sure what happened to him. We found each other again after I formed the Forsaken, he wasn't at the defence of Silvermoon."

"Was he much different after his death?" Jaina put her hands over Sylvanas's, leaning comfortably back into her and closing her eyes.

The elf paused. "He was... talented in life. Very talented. Didn't suffer fools lightly. And death gave us all a... bloodthirsty edge. We'd be poor soldiers if it didn't. But, well, he didn't end up with the nickname Blightcaller just because he knew how to use it."

Jaina nodded, "What do you plan on doing with him?"

"I don't know," Sylvanas said uncomfortably. "I've relied upon him for years. But clearly... I can no longer trust him to merely advise the violent techniques and approaches, but... to act on them 'in my interest'. I just… I remember him in life. So devoted, so sharp… always there for me. His humanity giving me some distance from politics. A comforting bedrock that I needed again when we were free. I think I just never really thought about how much he’s changed."

Jaina was silent for a time, contemplating this all again. Nathanos hadn't come up with the idea all his own, Sylvanas shared the blame, and he said something about ‘for her sisters’ so... She'd planned to use that poison on them too. Could this be trusted? Would Sylvanas keep her promise?

Was there any possible chance that the rest of Jaina’s life wasn't going to be full of this kind of thing?

Sylvanas began gently playing with her wife’s hair, running long fingers through the white strands. "Jaina..." she said suddenly. "If you were dying... and there was no way to heal you... what would you choose?"

Jaina had started to drift with her thoughts a little, but the question startled her out of her reverie. "... What? Choose?"

"Death or... becoming Forsaken."

Death or undeath. Death or damnation.

"... I don't know," the mage said finally. It was an honest answer.

"Think about it," Sylvanas said. "As my… wife… the option is there for you. But I swear that I will never have you killed and raised. You… you deserve better than that."

Jaina opened her eyes, looking up at Sylvanas, "I believe you."

Sylvanas sighed softly. Nuzzled against Jaina's shoulder lightly again. "Thank you. Perhaps... perhaps we can start to trust each other a little more."

Jaina nodded, "Two way street," she agreed, "I would like that."

She sighed, half turning so she could lay against Sylvanas sideways, conveniently letting her nuzzle into the elf’s neck, "I feel like I've gone eight rounds in a gnomish rock-tumbler."

The cool flesh was... really nice considering how feverish she felt.

Those strong arms were nice too.

And the way that Sylvanas was blushing was nice too, a faint purplish tinge spreading through the grey-blue flesh. A subtle change, perhaps, but visible this close in. "Comfortable?" she managed.

Jaina nodded, smirking very faintly, "Very... I could get used to this."

"Well, I suppose that we're going to have to consummate our marriage sooner rather than later, so... if I can't take being a pillow then I have no chance," the elf snarked.

"You'd be doomed to the horror of having me between your thighs in a much more aggressive and invasive fashion. What did my grandmother used to say? 'Lay back and think of Lordaeron'?"

Sylvanas looked mildly disgusted. "Please tell me that isn't common among humans. Sex as a duty... that sounds dreadful."

"Common among nobles at least," Jaina chuckled, "My grandmother believed that love was something you found where you could and marriage was something you did for the good of your people."

"I mean, the concept of the political marriage isn't lost on elves, but... ugh." Sylvanas shook her head. “I’d probably have ended up marrying Kael’thas if I was bound to what was ‘for the good of my people’. Fortunately my mother listened when I told her that I have no interest in men, and especially not that one.” Despite her biting tone, seemingly in better spirits, relieved to be just bantering again.

Jaina shuddered slightly at that image, pushed away from that distasteful image.

"Well, we'll just have to try and make ours not-political." She was tired enough that being awake seemed an awful burden and her eyes closed again, curling up a little better.

The elf stroked her cheek gently. "You're still recovering. Rest, Jaina, I won't let anyone hurt you."

Jaina didn't really have the mind to respond, only nuzzling closer as she slipped into unconscious thoughts just before sleep.

Not-political? Had that really come out of her mouth? That hardly qualified them for love but... close. Close would be nice. Trusting would be nice. Jaina could be fine with a wife she didn't love but who she trusted as a partner.

***

Jaina awoke hungry and still snuggled up to a cold body, lying next to her, an arm wrapped around her protectively.

There was something surreal about waking up next to a corpse. Sylvanas didn't need to breathe and was perfectly still, something that would normally be a red flag for something being very wrong... But that gut feeling wasn't so hard to fight off.

It was a little interesting to feel the difference between skin where Jaina’s body heat had leached in and places where it had remained the same temperature as the room around them. Her skin was surprisingly soft and not corpsey for a dead woman. Still rough where a living elf's might have been silken soft...

Jaina flushed, trying not to think about that too hard.

"Sylvanas?"

The woman shifted, nuzzled Jaina gently. Still mostly asleep. "Mmmm?"

Did someone like Sylvanas have any right to be 'cute'?

"How long have I been sleeping?"

Sylvanas’s eyes slowly opened, and she rolled over to look at the small elven clock nestled on the bedside table. "It's been about twenty four hours since you were poisoned," she mumbled. "How do you feel?"

"Better." Jaina had the small embarrassing thought that she wished Sylvanas would roll back. Even if she had been planning on getting up she had been comfy. Protected. Now she felt... almost exposed.

"Hungry... Please don't take it the wrong way if I conjure this meal." She wanted to be back in top form before she tried to brave any... miscommunications again.

The elf did in fact, roll back in to snuggle her. "Are you sure you have the strength?" she mumbled. "I do understand, but..."

"I'm sure getting poisoned made me look incredibly fragile but I will remind you I was able to threaten you with a not insignificant spell when I was feeling far rougher than this." Jaina grumbled it a little... But partly it was because she was trying to school herself into not being such a needy girl about getting held again.

Sylvanas squeezed her gently.

She'd been so close to losing Jaina. If she'd been a little slower on the uptake... if she'd hesitated... oh, she could've brought the woman back. But somehow she knew it wouldn't be the same. Something would've been lost.

For the first time in a long time... Sylvanas could see the beauty in life.

So she held Jaina close, almost wishing she never had to let go.

Jaina's slight embarrassment and irritation with herself started to fade as Sylvanas didn't respond. Unsure what the woman's mood was, unable to see her face and her unnatural stillness giving very little away... She wrapped an arm around the elf.

"... I'm fine, really." She chewed her lip, then another thought came, "This doesn't breach the contract, if that's what you’re worrying about?"

"Honestly I didn't even think about that," Sylvanas murmured. "I was just... thinking it would be a shame if you died."

Jaina’s heart suddenly swelled and she knew for a fact that her face was now turning rather red.

'A shame if you died' was not usually considered a phrase that would elicit such a reaction... But this was coming from 'Madam Death and Screams, Esquire'...

It meant a surprising amount.

"Oh." She said quietly.

The elf cleared her throat. "Not that I'm going soft or anything," she grumbled. "I think you'd make a great Forsaken too. But... I like you alive."

Jaina rolled her eyes, "I've heard worse flattery. I think."

Way to douse the moment.

'You'd make a great Forsaken'. Honestly...

"Well, either way, I'm starving." At least it gave her the motivation to get up and Jaina slowly started to untangle herself.

Sylvanas seemed reluctant to let her go. But finally she allowed it, propping herself up. "You should eat, then."

"I'm also going back to my ship." Jaina said a little distractedly as she swung her legs over the side, testing the waters as she made to stand, trying to focus on other things.

"Need some fresh air?" Sylvanas said cautiously. Shifting a little.

"I need to make sure it's alright for now and bring spare clothes... Since I didn't the first time." Jaina didn't catch the cautious note in Sylvanas’s tone. She was making sure that she wasn't going to fall as she took her first step, so long in bed was murder on the muscles and equilibrium.

Not to mention poison.

"Then I'll be back and we can... Sort out the next Rite."

Sylvanas relaxed for a moment. The paranoia that Jaina was just going to leave fading. Then she squirmed, flushing as she processed the last bit. "O-of course."

Jaina was actually better than she expected and glanced over her shoulder with a teasing eyebrow raise, "Don't worry. You can just... Lay back and think of the Horde?"

"I think I'd probably dishonour every race in the Horde if I turned into a pillow princess for the first time I had sex with my wife," Sylvanas deadpanned, trying to cover her embarrassment. Then she blushed harder at realising what she’d just said. Filter, Sylvanas, when will you learn to have one? Once! We’re doing this once, and only because we have to!

"First time?" There would be more times? Jaina flushed as well and then abruptly moved on, "Well, that's... One way to look at it I suppose. Just don't feel you have to force yourself..."

The teasing was gone, she raised a hand and summoned a portal to the flagship, "I'll be back in a few hours."

"I'll be waiting," the elf said. Still lying on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling, expression blank.

Jaina nodded and stepped through the portal onto the deck of her ship, trying to calm herself.

The fresh sea air helped.

Undercity was... oppressive. Even more so than Khaz Modan. Getting out here was definitely a relief.

She set about conjuring her food, then, checking the wards, the rigging, the hull... Everything. It took hours and gave her the space she needed and it was nice to know that her body was fast recovering. When she sat down to wash afterwards she felt renewed, not exhausted.

But... That meant she'd be going back soon.

Back to Undercity. Back to Sylvanas.

Back to her wife.

And the whole... eating out a corpse thing.

Although Sylvanas didn't smell rotten or anything, so... maybe she wouldn't taste bad?

Or Jaina could just use her fingers? Or... she could try that one thing she'd been dying to but no partner would let her to this point... The cowards.

What was a little ice between friends?

Or wives.

You know, same difference.

Jaina had gathered her bag and things before she'd really thought about it. There was nothing to do now but go back.

She held up a hand to summon the portal but still hesitated.

She chewed her lip, debating taking a detour to Stormwind to check in with Anduin and-

Oh for pity’s sake, was she really being this much of a coward?!

With a determined expression she opened the portal to Sylvanas's lounge and stepped through.

***

It was much as Jaina had left it. Except a hooded Dark Ranger was standing on duty by the door.

She was so used to these undead elves being a pain in the ass, the architects of countless offensives and Sylvanas's personal tools. To have one salute her was... weird.

Jaina had started to move to defend herself before she realised what was going on and cleared her throat, "Is Lady Windrunner out?"

"The Warchief is bathing, Lady Proudmoore," the dead elf said. "She informed me that I could take you to her when you returned, if you wished."

Jaina swallowed, swore that if she blushed in front of this ranger then she'd drown herself in the deepest part of the sea... And then nodded, calm and collected, putting her bag down onto the table, "Then yes, please take me to her Ranger... What is your name?"

"Cyndia Hawkspear, Lady Proudmoore."

If she felt the same distrust of the living that all Forsaken seemed to project, she was better at hiding it than most.

"Follow me, ma'am." She turned and stalked out.

Hawkspear. She'd be sure to remember it, "Thank you, Hawkspear."

Hawkspear inclined her head. "I'm sorry for what Blightcaller tried to do to you. It's a stain on our organisation that one of us disobeyed the Dark Lady."

Jaina thought about that, "Speak honestly, Ranger, do you personally agree that he made the right move? Do you think my death and an all out war would be preferable?"

Hawkspear paused. Glanced at her. "No," she said. "If the Dark Lady believes that this is the path that will keep the Forsaken safe and prosperous... then I trust her."

The mage smiled slightly, "Thank you for being honest, Hawkspear."

The elf set off again. "When the Lich King's control wavered and broke, we could have self destructed. Split up, gone mad with what we'd done, turned into crazed animals, been slaughtered by the Scourge... But Lady Windrunner bound us together. Gave us leadership and purpose. Helped her ranger corps regain our bodies. Without her, there is no Forsaken. Betraying her is to spit on everything we are. Since becoming Forsaken, only one Dark Ranger has ever gone rogue, and her case was… understandable, if not forgivable. For the Dark Lady’s lieutenant to turn traitor like this is intolerable."

"... I didn't realise." Jaina said softly, "I knew that many of the Forsaken looked to her almost like a god... But I didn't know why." Quietly she wondered what Hawkspear meant about that singular ranger, but… it didn’t seem like the moment to ask.

"Many don't understand or don't want to understand. But you've seen some of how all of this started. You were by Arthas's side when he was first fighting the Scourge. In many ways, you are one of the few people the Ranger corps would accept as a living consort to the Dark Lady."

Jaina sobered significantly, feeling her stomach sink even as her face remained neutral, "Yes... I suppose that makes a certain amount of sense from your point of view."

Hawkspear glanced back. "We've learned the hard way that most people look at us and just see a tame Scourge. Even those who fought in Northrend alongside us, although... Varimathras's betrayal and the Wrathgate no doubt didn't help. But you've seen how the Scourge started, personally. Actually, I think you might be the only one left among the living who did. You can appreciate where we came from... and what we're trying not to be."

"... The first days we didn't know what was happening at all or how to stop it. Then I was in Kalimdor when Silvermoon fell... But I can imagine what happened there. It's a miracle there are elves that still live between the Scourge and the fact that the Alliance couldn’t assist them..."

"What the Alliance did to them under Garithos,” Cyndia corrected. “There's a reason that Lady Windrunner was so passionate in her appeals to the Horde to bring the Sin'dorei under their banner. Although our relationship with our northern neighbours is sometimes strained... we are tied together by a common history of suffering." Hawkspear glanced at Jaina, with a kind of generalised, impersonal accusation. "And rejection."

They'd emerged from Sylvanas's personal rooms and were heading into a different area, higher up. Pipes snaked here and there, and it seemed like the heat of the forges and various other operations below were being channelled up here to heat the water, as Hawkspear pushed open a door into a steamy, serene chamber, filled with pleasant, wafting scents. It seemed like there were numerous bathing chambers here, to allow a degree of privacy. The ranger looked like she was going to remain outside on guard.

Jaina looked inside, hoping the steam would hide any blush for what she was likely to walk into, "I don't know how much of this arrangement’s specifics you've been privy to, but I'm to be liaison between the races. All of them. And as I told your Dark Lady I'll be wanting to hear from the people, not just their leaders. Should you have any more thoughts on your mind, you or the other Rangers... Please don't hesitate to tell me. I want to hear them."

And she meant that honestly. Not just because she was stalling for a moment before she went into the baths. She gave Hawkspear a nod and headed inside to find...

Her wife.

There was the sound of water splashing lightly.

"...Jaina?" Sylvanas said, her outline dimly visible in the water.

Don't panic.

"I thought we were supposed to pamper each other?" Jaina moved to the edge of the pool, heels of her boots clicking on the stone. Don't look away, coward, you're going to have to get used to it.

"You were away," Sylvanas said defensively. "I invited you to join me here, didn't I?"

She pulled herself out onto the side, and Jaina got a brief glimpse of bare grey back and butt before she swirled a towel around herself for modesty's sake.

"You did." Jaina was not blind to the muscles there. Sylvanas was an elf and dead but her body was well preserved and she'd been an archer. "Are you.... Are you getting out?"

...was she really getting racy thoughts over athletic shoulders?

"No. Just... not rushing into shared nudity," Sylvanas said awkwardly.

"... You invited me to the bath with you but you're not rushing into shared nudity." Jaina said pointedly.

Sylvanas flushed. "I haven't done this for a long time. Not willingly in even longer."

"Willingly?" She tensed, "... Sylvanas... We don't... We don't have to do anything yet I..." Ok, now she felt particularly vile for basically spending the last several hours thinking about what this woman looked like naked or would be like in bed.

"I'm not a fragile little flower," Sylvanas snapped defensively. "Give me the same respect you demand for yourself. If I felt that I wasn't ready for this or didn't want to do it, we wouldn't be here."

Jaina frowned, readying for a fight, "It's not about being -"

No. Calm down. Relax. Wait...

She approached, lowering herself to kneel next to Sylvanas, "I don't think you're fragile. But I know what it's like to... To push through things you're not comfortable with for the sake of those you care for. I just don't want you to feel like you have to do that."

The elf snaked out a hand, tugged her closer by the collar, forcing her to turn her hips and sit sideways on the floor to get closer. Looking like she was going to stay angry for a moment.

Then Sylvanas softened. "Thank you," she said simply.

Jaina felt the water soak into her breeches as she ended up not quite in the lap of the near naked ranger, "You're... You're very welcome." She had to pry her eyes upwards, away from her lips.

Sylvanas saw the gaze. Gave a small, uncertain smile. Her grip on the towel loosening. "Do you... want to join me in the water?" she said, almost shyly.

"A bath sounds nice." Jaina said, a little quietly. Just... a friendly bath. Like they'd laid in bed together. Nothing... Nothing unreasonable.

Sylvanas slowly let the towel fall, slipping into the water. The light was dim, but... despite the muscle, she had some pleasant heft to her chest. The nipples a dark, almost purplish colour, looking... rather tight. More intimate, southernly details were... obscured by the water.

Jaina swallowed, turning a little pink as she rose up. She only half turned away as she started to pull the laces of her bodice apart, undoing the buckles of the faux-corset and dropping both. Next was the lace on her pants and she slid the tailored cloth over her hips as she kicked off her boots. Soon she was standing in little but her skivvies again and she felt rather... exposed. Sylvanas had the benefit of hiding in water.

A strategic choice maybe? Clever bitch...

Not helpful. you can't take a bath in your underwear, idiot. So Jaina pulled the chest-cloth off over her head and the pants down over her thighs. Very naked now, she couldn't look at Sylvanas as she sank into the heated water.

Sylvanas was looking away. Offering some privacy.

But she couldn't help trying to sneak little glances at Jaina. She’d been with women before, but… all elves, never a human. Mostly heated affairs in the field, to relieve the stress and tension of war. Now, even with all the chaos in her head… she was curious. Maybe even interested.

Admitting her fears about turning into Arthas aloud had made it... harder to lie to herself about the little things. Like the fact that she was finding herself genuinely attracted to Jaina, not just... making the best of circumstances.

And now Jaina was in the water too. Cuddling up might be weird... but she didn't want to seem distant... and they'd need to actually have sex sooner rather than later...

Argh. What do.

At least she felt more comfortable looking at Jaina now that she was in the water, and less like a perv.

Not that water was that good at hiding things, even in the dim light of the incense burners and torches.

Not good at hiding the rather excited, dark nipples that bobbed just below the surface, not enough to hide the tuft of silver hair that she couldn't see the details of between her legs...

Jaina cleared her throat and reached up, untying her braid and letting it loose though not bothering to undo it with her fingers and it was slow to unwind in the hot water.

That’s a safe option. Right? The elf shifted closer. Delicately reached out to help undo the braid and help it not get tangled.

Jaina searched her face a little and then turned around, letting her access all of it to undo it, the tension in her shoulders slacking as Sylvanas's fingers ran over her scalp to free everything.

She really seemed to like that.

Sylvanas kept going. Massaging her scalp. Then her hands shifted, moving down to her back and shoulders. Working through the knots and tension. "I remember doing this with the other rangers, back in Silvermoon," she hummed softly. "Helping each other relax after a hard day of patrols and exercises..."

Jaina groaned softly, leaning back into the touch. She wasn't the worst Sylvanas had ever worked on, but that was only because she lacked the muscles to really have them screw up like an archer did.

"That's... Very good..." She breathed, her thighs drifted, brushing Sylvanas's knees, but Jaina didn't react.

"Have you had anyone give you a massage like this recently?" the Forsaken Queen asked. "Or... ever? You mages do like to ignore taking proper care of your body sometimes..."

"My brother gave good ones but... He died in the second war. And I was never naked with him thankfully." Jaina whimpered when Sylvanas found a particularly grisly knot.

Sylvanas clicked her tongue. "As I thought. Consider this added to your pampering regimen. The wife of the warchief needs to be in good physical condition, or the orcs will never let me hear the end of it," she added with a faint laugh.

"Damn the orcish standard, we're adding it because it feels good." Jaina sank lower into the water, a little attention and the scariest mage in all of Azeroth was putty in her hands.

"Glad to hear it." The banshee was enjoying herself now. Feeling Jaina loosen up. And those little groans and squeaks...

Even dead flesh can heat up with the right stimulation. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd actually felt aroused.

Jaina's hair was spreading out through the water and she finally came slowly to rest against Sylvanas's chest, her eyes closed, breathing deep.

She was so alive even compared to Sylvanas's heated flesh...

"Sylvanas...?"

When Jaina opened her deep blue eyes to look at up her... She could feel it. That pulse almost resonating against her. Almost, but not quite, within her, as though her own dead heart was trying to beat in sympathy.

"Yes, Jaina?" she murmured.

"Would you object to me kissing you?" The mage asked it like she was asking for clarification of terms.

Sylvanas bit her lip for a moment. "No," she said softly. "I think I'd like that."

Chapter Text

Jaina sat up, water dripping off her hair as she turned around. Her fingers slid over Sylvanas's shoulders, one hand reaching up to cup her face as she floated closer through the water.

Her heart was beating so fast... Stark contrast to her calm and determined expression as she tilted her head and leaned in. Her own lips were a little chapped from the salt air, but the steam had softened them and her movements were gentle but certainly not lacking in intent as she pressed in.

Sylvanas's hand moved around, cupped her cheek in return. Then, perhaps strange to an outside observer, moved down to her neck. Feeling the pulse there as their lips pressed together.

Blue lips parted, tongue probing a little.

Jaina shivered as she opened her mouth in return. Her hand on Sylvanas's shoulder slipped behind the Warchief, gripping the edge of the pool as she pressed closer to Sylvanas. Jaina’s knee pressed between Sylvanas’s as their tongues finally touched. She tasted much like she smelled, earth and blood and frost all suggesting themselves. It sent a shiver down the human’s spine but it wasn't so repulsive as one might expect.

Sylvanas didn't rush. Content to just... sample. Experiment. Her other hand slowly moving to wrap around the other woman's head, a shiver running through her as Jaina pulled closer, realising that yes… she wanted this. No - needed this.

"I suppose I should check..." The dead woman murmured with a soft laugh. "Before we just... launch into that last rite... do we need to do anything first?"

Jaina swallowed to ensure she had a voice before shaking her head, "No, though, I'd... rather do that in the bedroom if you don't mind. I just..." She pulled back just a little to give them space to breathe, "I just wanted to do this."

Sylvanas giggled. Nuzzled into her neck, gently suckled at her pulse, running her tongue over it lovingly. "Works for me..." she said softly.

Jaina gasped lightly and turned her head. The pulse quickened again and Sylvanas could feel an echo of it in her chest. Unlike before though, the mage couldn't stop the red creeping over her face, "Careful of those teeth..."

"Of course," Sylvanas said. Kissed Jaina again needily. "I just... I needed to feel it. It's such a little thing, but... you're alive, Jaina. And being this close to you, feeling you... I almost feel alive too."

Jaina couldn't help feeling a little blown about by those words. So, Sylvanas didn't relish her undeath. It... Never entirely seemed like it, to be fair, but it could be hard to tell. The woman was stoic... And when she wasn't being that unflappable calm commander she was veering between emotions. It was hard to get a read on how she might react to things… Or how much of it was an act.

She didn’t seem to be acting right now though.

Jaina pressed herself closer to the other woman, kissing her again instead of a response. She didn't have one. She just... Wanted to indulge Sylvanas's positive feelings. Give her something more pleasent then the hints of torture that Jaina was catching from her. Something to cling to that wasn't just... survival.

There was more than one kind of death after all, Jaina knew that from personal experience.

The mage’s tongue probed into Sylvanas's mouth aggressively. She hadn't initiated this as anything other than a kiss but... Well. She tended to be an aggressive lover these days.

Vereesa had told her about that game that the three sisters had played. What had Sylvanas's three statements been? Sometimes she wished she were alive, she was proud to be warchief, and she would never betray her sisters.

The first seemed true.

Sylvanas reciprocated. Seeming... almost playful. The eager actions and reactions of a youngster discovering their sexuality, rather than the decades old undead warhorse that she was. Or… perhaps more accurately, rediscovering.

It was entirely bizarre for Jaina to feel like the more storied and stable lover between the two of them. Sylvanas was older, wasn't she?

Being dead made that… complicated, of course.

But that did cross off the possibility that none of them were true. And left her with three options left. She wasn't proud to be warchief, she would betray her sisters, or... None of the above. There was the possibility they were all true.

Sylvanas had rarely ever played strictly by the rules, right?

How would she react to being asked directly?

… Jaina would think about finding out another time.

Jaina had all but pinned her, gently, to the side of the pool. Kisses continued even as the hand on Sylvanas’s cheek moved up along her jaw, using a thumb to gently stroke along her earlobe and the underside of her ear.

The elf tilted her head into the touch, a soft moan sounding faintly at the attention to her ear. Her arms curling around Jaina's neck, holding her close. Then she braced herself, legs moving up and wrapping around Jaina's waist.

It was very easy to push aside awkwardness with a woman moaning in your ear. Jaina had never much paid attention to the gender of her lovers. Many had been male... But several had been female. She didn't much care which really, she was just interested in them as people and she'd do with whatever parts were attached.

Jaina carefully kissed up Sylvanas's jaw to her ear, following the path of her fingers before suckling on the small lobe.

The elf was quivering lightly under her touch now. Her fingernails scratching over Jaina's back as she moaned again. "You seem to know your way around a quel'dorei ear," she joked breathlessly.

"Not all the rumors about me are false..." Jaina may never have been with Thrall... But he was hardly the only person who she'd been accused of having 'relations' with, "Though if you call me a whore I will terminate this marriage on the spot." She nipped the sensitive ear a little teasingly.

"What about in the heat of the moment?" Sylvanas returned teasingly.

Cheeky bitch.

"I can be a lot less gentle, you know. How does Forsaken flesh take to bruising?" Jaina bit down a little harder, careful that she was on the fleshy part so she wouldn't hurt the cartilage.

Actually that was a good question, they healed somehow, right? But did she need to be careful of any kind of particular damage?

"Mmm... I'm getting the picture that you like it rough..." Sylvanas hummed. "And we bruise, after a fashion. It simply takes... more dedication than on the living."

Jaina pulled back slightly, checking the accosted earlobe. No kidding...

"I just found that unlike my younger years I... Enjoyed being aggressive. Sometimes that means rougher than others. I blame the Kul Tiran blood, for convenience's sake."

She couldn't actually remember the last time she'd done anything one might consider 'love making'. Probably not since her early twenties or late teens.

"Very convenient," Sylvanas teased. Ran her tongue up Jaina's neck. Kissed her again. A hand sliding downwards, before finally grasping her butt. "I have no issues with aggression."

The Mage squeaked faintly. Jaina wasn't a physical fighter by any means... But she wasn't completely lacking muscle. She narrowed her eyes in a silent expression of 'you asked for it'.

Wrapping an arm around Sylvanas's waist, Jaina pressed her hard against the side of the pool to pin her there... Unintentionally grinding against her a little as she kissed her with a rather new found hunger. Her free hand gripped one of Sylvanas's thighs as her tongue busied itself making demands of the elf’s.

Sylvanas's laugh was cut short by a faint gasp as the thigh ground against her, and by the tongue invading her mouth. "Perhaps... we should head for the bedroom?" she said as Jaina drew back for breath. A hungry, needy look in her eyes.

Jaina nodded, looking her over. There was still a tiny voice in the back of her head shouting that she was kissing a corpse... But she couldn't find a shred of care about it otherwise.

She detangled herself from Sylvanas and pulled herself out of the pool, grabbing her things quickly, wringing out her hair as she snatched up a towel. She was practically humming with need now.

Was fucking a dead woman creepy? Yes.

Was she going to do it anyway? ...Right now, gladly.

Better to regret it later then to have a cold and awkward open into the third rite.

The banshee pulled herself out of the water as well, water trickling down her grey flesh. Aggressively she began drying herself off and picked up her clothes, seemingly planning to quickly get dressed and walk back to her chambers.

Jaina had other ideas. Fuck walking, she’d apologise to Hawkspear for leaving her outside later. She caught Sylvanas around the waist from behind as the woman finished pulling her shirt on, and tugged her through a portal back to the bedroom, not even having dried off fully. “You’re wearing too much now, love.”

Sylvanas squeaked, startled. Actually squeaked.

She'd made Sylvanas Windrunner, Warchief of the Horde, Dark Lady of the Forsaken, squeak.

Jaina didn't let go, she hiked Sylvanas's shirt up, pressing kisses up her spine as more and more dark skin was revealed. That was strangely adorable and arousing in ways it probably shouldn't be. Another hint that Sylvanas wasn’t the warmachine she painted herself as. Another small thing who knew how many others might have ever seen in her… What other noises might this woman make under the right moment?

The elf was clearly used to being in control, and suddenly having someone else set the pace was leaving her off balance. She stumbled forward, leaning on the bed, arching into the kisses and pressing back into Jaina a little. Her breasts spilling out as the shirt was peeled up.

Jaina's hesitation, her anxiety... It all melted away. Her teeth scraped teasingly at Sylvanas's shoulder as her hands caught the cooling flesh of her chest, lifting them to keep Sylvanas against her and using the position to fondle her slowly. It started with lazy squeezing and teasing at first before she found the nipples that had taunted her earlier and rolling them between her fingers.

Sylvanas seemed to be a little numb. Her responses not as quick or serious as others she'd been with. Dead nerves, deadened sensations - dead flesh in general, slower to settle and react, the indentations of her fingers remaining for a second even after she released the Forsaken’s breasts. But she was moaning softly, pressing against the attentions, unable to reciprocate, stuck propped up against the side of the bed for a moment. Still, she recovered quickly, straightened up, leaning back into Jaina, nuzzling against Jaina's cheek as best she could.

"Guess I worked you up a little?" she teased softly.

Jaina hummed, "... A little. Does it feel alright? Should I be firmer?"

Aggressive did not mean unattentive or mean.

"Firmer?" Sylvanas breathed. "Go ahead. I can take it. Make my heart beat, Jaina."

Jaina’s own heart picked up in response to those words and she had to remind herself to breathe. Her fingers tightened around the nipples still in her grasp and she ducked her head, mouth finding Sylvanas' pulseless neck, teeth biting in harder than she might normally as she suckled at the flesh hard, intent on making the queen of the dead feel alive.

The woman tilted her head, arched with a stifled cry. Mumbling soft exclamations in her mother tongue. Dark marks finally appearing on her neck. Her hands moving back, settling on Jaina's hips. Clearly keen to touch Jaina back, but... obstructed by the positions.

She finally released Sylvanas's neck and pressed flush to her, whispering in her ear, "Is that better, Banshee Queen?"

Her teeth caught Sylvanas's ear.

"Yesssss," Sylvanas said, half a hiss, half a moan. "I can feel it... but I need more, enough teasing..." She grabbed one of Jaina's hands, tugged it downwards.

Jaina let her one hand be dragged, her nails intentionally bared against Sylvanas' skin as it did so to make sure Sylvanas felt the descent, but her fingers flattened out as they hit the patch of hair between her legs.

"I’d hate to keep you waiting...." She cupped Sylvanas curiously.

The Forsaken was surprisingly slick. Apparently that part of her body still more or less worked. Her flesh was still warm from the water, although it was cooling again, and Sylvanas arched into the touch, the little nub of sensitive flesh at the top so very easy to find. So turned on that even her sluggish nerves were easy to set off.

Jaina bit her lip. It was incredibly exciting whenever she turned someone on, if she was honest... But Sylvanas wasn't just anyone. It was a bit like how flattering it'd been to discover how excited she could get Kalec...

But she found she liked this even more.

It was simple to slide two fingers through her folds, and she didn't hesitate to give Sylvanas what she wanted, pressing into her clit firmly, rubbing back and forth with both fingers as her other hand continued to pinch and pull on her nipple.

Sylvanas wasn't quiet in her praises. "Oh Jaina..." she moaned. "Jaina, yes... don't stop..."

The banshee hadn't felt this kind of pleasure in a very long time. When Jaina had asked if she could have sex... well. She knew the answer was yes. But Sylvanas hadn't expected it to be this easy, this vibrant, this... quick. By the sun... she was putty in Jaina's hands. Her pride would demand turnabout, if not now then in the future, but for right now... she could feel her body sluggishly trying to imitate life, her muscles tensing, her legs struggling to hold her up.

"D-do you want me to move?" she moaned weakly.

Part of Jaina was just amused at the fact that, yes, the Banshee was in fact loud in bed. But the rest of her was too damn excited by her noises to find it funny.

"Move?" She hummed as she pressed a little firmer before it clicked, "Be a little hard to keep this up if you fall over I suppose." Jaina pulled her hands away, kissing Sylvanas's shoulder, "On the bed."

Sylvanas practically sprawled on the bed. Crawled forward on her knees, rolled onto her back, legs spread, eyes cloudy with need, gazing up at Jaina. "Like this?" she said with a teasing grin, regaining a hint of control.

Jaina followed her. Considering how 'in control' she'd been a moment ago she looked like she might do anything Sylvanas asked in that moment.

Was a corpse allowed to be this beautiful?

Was she just going to keep harping about Sylvanas being a corpse when she'd already made up her mind about this?

Yes apparently. But probably not for much longer, it was proving to be a waste of time.

"Like that." She confirmed softly, moving upwards first to kiss Sylvanas. It was more tender then she intended going in but hunger soon overtook that and she bit into the elf's lower lip before she pulled away again, running her hands down Sylvanas's ribs and waist, resting briefly on her thighs.

Sylvanas kissed her back with just as much fire. But now that they were face to face... she could touch the other woman, and her hands eagerly reached out, running down her sides, over her stomach, up over her chest. Seeming to just... sample the feel of the skin.

The living skin was heated and soft. She had a few small scars, just from injuries over the years, most had always been fixed with magic but not all. Jaina shivered a little at the touch and let her explore happily, the cool fingers an unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation... Though she didn't hesitate to continue her own attentions either, this time in a new way, her still sticky middle finger traced down the inner line of Sylvanas' thigh, over the hollow between leg and hips... And then sunk into the source of that dampness, watching her face intently.

The Forsaken woman gave a strangled moan, writhed like she'd been stabbed - but the reaction was clearly pleasure rather than pain. She rolled her hips a little, trying to claim more of the finger penetrating her. Confusion as well as hunger clouding her expression, clearly wondering who this mysterious carnal goddess was that could coax her dead flesh into such reactions.

Jaina leaned over her, "I knew you were beautiful..." Her mouth nipped and suckled a trail down her neck, to her chest, over the swell of her breast, "I didn't know you'd be this sensitive..." She pressed a second finger inside the elf as her mouth wrapped around her nipple, catching it with her teeth as she suckled hard.

Sylvanas rolled her hips again, needy and shameless. "I didn’t either, you flatterer..." she breathed. "You're... you're beautiful too. I didn't want to think about it before, I didn't want to let you close, but... it's true..."

Jaina flushed, letting go of her prize to lean up and kiss Sylvanas again, fingers curling as they dragged in and out of her slowly, "Do you want to touch me?"

She... She had to admit that she really wanted Sylvanas to touch her now.

Sylvanas dragged her closer, kissing down Jaina's neck eagerly. Nuzzled at her breasts with a faint laugh, even through her mewling pleasures, then wrapped her lips around a nipple. It was strange to feel that wet suction without the usual heat, but... Sylvanas's tongue was diligent and hungry.

Jaina, who'd been quiet and diligent until now breathed a small whimper. It took a little warming up before she'd get loud but she eagerly let Sylvanas have her. The human’s fingers continued their deliberately slow and forceful pace.

"You don't have to be gentle." Jaina groaned quietly, "Please, don't be gentle."

Those red eyes flicked up, then Sylvanas decided to take her at her word. Her teeth sank in a little, her sharp elven canines in particular prickling firmly, adding a spice of pain to the suckling, her hips continuing to roll against the fingers penetrating her. A hand moved over to twist and pull at the neglected nipple, the other hand grazing down her stomach meaningfully.

"A-ah! Yes... like that. Good..." Jaina bit her lip, breathing heavily as she pulled her fingers out of Sylvanas. Instead of abandoning her though, she brought them back to the elf’s clit with a vengeance as reward, harsh circles with her two drenched fingers.

Sylvanas bucked against her fingers, head falling back with a small cry. Shuddering, gazing up at Jaina needily. "I'm... I'm close..." she moaned. "I want... I need..."

The Banshee Queen pulled herself together, bit her lip, took a deep breath out of habit. Squirmed a little until she was lying down, licked her lips. "Your throne awaits, my consort," she breathed.

Jaina didn't understand at first, pausing her actions to sort it out. Then her face went rather pink... Embarrassment didn't last though as she laughed softly, "Well that's a line I haven't heard before."

She briefly kissed Sylvanas first before she pulled her fingers away fully, moving up the bed and turning around so that she faced down Sylvanas's body, carefully straddling her shoulders, balancing herself carefully.

Hands eagerly grasped and mauled at her butt for a moment, moved around to steady her hips. Then her tongue nuzzled between Jaina's labia and pressed straight into her core, drinking in her heat and juices with a needy mewling sound.

Her fingers gripped the sheets on either side of Sylvanas's hips, "F... Fuck!"

Oh god... Ok. She actually had some idea what she was-

Jaina gave a cry and ground down against her needily as her tongue pressed into something sensitive. No longer quiet, every breath came with a little noise of pleasure.

The undead woman kept it up. Her tongue pulled out briefly, moved down and raked over her clit once, twice, three times, sealed her lips and suckled. Then moved back up and inside her. Satisfied that Jaina wasn't going to move too much, she went back to squeezing and groping that butt.

The mage wasn't moving too much but her hips couldn't help rolling against the attention. Jaina being at her mercy didn't last terribly long however as the living woman suddenly slid down onto her elbows, wrapping her arms around Sylvanas's thighs to pull them wide apart again. Her teeth bit into her thighs harshly leaving a trail of bruising kisses along the muscle.

There was no hesitation before her tongue slid into the cooled, slick, flesh between her legs. Circling her clit before lapping at it far more aggressively. Though her sounds were now muffled she was far from quiet.

Fuck. Sylvanas was glad she didn't need to breathe. It meant she didn't have anything to distract her from eating out the woman with all of her talent and skill.

Until Jaina returned the favour, and she faltered a little, seeing stars. She was determined to hold off, not to cum just yet, but... she wasn't sure she could manage it...

Jaina's thighs were trembling a little above her and while she was more consistent in her attack... Her moans were starting to sound more akin to sobs. She had to pull back to breathe, replacing her tongue with fingers and using her other hand to start fucking her wife far more intensely then before as she took ragged breaths, "Th-that's it.... Oh light... Sylvanas... Don't s-stop!"

It was more than just pleasure building... There was an odd kind of tingle encroaching, not unpleasant, but it had a familiar tug on her soul. It had to be the magic of the final rite.

Sylvanas was utterly helpless with that kind of plea, and she redoubled her efforts, feeling the mage tense up, feeling those fingers pressing over all her most sensitive spots, until…

The two cried out as orgasm crashed over them, bucking and writhing as pleasure filled their world - and then the world itself exploded in energy, and there was nothingness.

There was a strange feeling of floating, like one experienced in a stupor. Not quite asleep, not really conscious. It faded slowly and Sylvanas found herself standing amid a silent, dead, forest. The huge boughs above her were the ancient forests she’d grown up in. The shining forest of Eversong brought into the stillness and darkness of the grave. Tall and proud… but marked by death.

Wait. It wasn’t silent. There was faint music. Her music. Sylvanas’s lament. It filtered through the branches like a breeze.

And on the wind she could smell the unfamiliar brush of salt.

She slowly straightened up. Looked around with a little sadness.

Yes, this felt like home. Like her. For better or worse. The old greenery... just didn't belong to her any more.

Slowly Sylvanas got to her feet, gazing around at this strange vista. This… window into her soul, because what else could it be? Brushing a hand over the dead bark, feeling the usual mix of feelings, the sadness and anger and comfort that the cursed woods brought to her.

Then she turned. Seeking out the song, and the unfamiliar scent. Not entirely sure what she would find, but… having an instinct of who she would find.

The song seemed to be guiding her through the trees, through the dark... The ancient forest stopped, but rather than a shoreline a wall of dark water stood before her, stretching in all directions, seemingly as endless as her forest. There was a figure just under the surface, her details obscured by the rippling water, but the silver-white hair made it clear who it was.

Sylvanas sighed, folding her arms. Familiar sarcasm in her tone. "You know, Jaina, I was expecting something weird, but... getting hurled into whatever this is is ruining my ability to enjoy my first orgasm in years."

"Oh good it is actually you." The mage’s voice sounded a little echoing and distant, "The rites haven’t exactly been anything like how they’re written about… I thought something had gone wrong and I was in another dimension again." A pair of hands reached to the edge of the water. Jaina’s face looked a bit clearer as she got closer to the barrier, blue eyes looking her over interestedly.

"Does sex regularly hurl you into another dimension?" Sylvanas snarked, reaching out to the barrier herself.

"No. It'd be a first, but a tongue like that... I could definitely see it happening." Her side of the barrier seemed to have things swimming behind her, there was a shadow of something that even an elf’s eyes couldn’t make out… But Jaina didn’t seem worried. She was grinning faintly actually.

Their hands finally met but didn’t quite reach each other. There was a barrier between them still, a hair wide at most maybe... But it was keeping them apart.

"I promise I'll make it up to you, if you'd like. And now that the rite’s completed this… shouldn’t happen again." Jaina rested her forehead against the barrier.

Sylvanas hummed softly. "I would be saddened if our first sex was also the last," she said with a faint laugh. "So I'll hold you to that. And to think I was so nervous about this…"

"Good. You holding me has been... nice." Jaina smiled a little sheepishly. “And you weren’t the only one.”

Patterns of light started to appear across the space between them. Some of the symbols were recognizable and some were completely foreign to her. High elven runes, twisting lines of some kind she didn't recognize, arcane mage circles, the runemarks of the scourge's undeath... All of it flashing between colours, yellow to green to purple to blue to red... the space between them hummed with intense power.

Neither of them could pull their hands away from the place the magic was emanating from.

Jaina looked up at it with both awe and alarm, “I’m not sure this is supposed to-”

With a rending sound the barrier burst. Wood and water smashed into each other, the shattered pieces of the barrier latched onto their skin and burned like a brand. Their hands were sealed together and Jaina screamed in pain in the maelstrom, their bodies being flung through the tidal-wave, battered against trees, scalded by magic.

Sylvanas didn't scream. Pain... pain was an old friend. Pain had been her constant companion for decades.

So she just pulled, pulled hard to get Jaina closer, wrapped her arms protectively around the woman, shielding her as best she could.

The Banshee could take it.

A cacophony of laments and roaring water enveloped them. Darkness seemed to envelope them entirely. And the crushing weight of the forest and the sea seemed intent on killing them...

Jaina held onto her and after her initial reaction to the pain seemed much in the same mindset. She could hold on, she could take it.

They'd make it through. Together.

Something in Sylvanas’s chest... twitched. Painfully so. More than simply feeling the distant magical echo of Jaina’s pulse... The muscles in Sylvanas's chest woke up as if it was by her will to banish the whole lot of this.

Her dead heart gave one single, body-pulsing, beat.

She woke like no time had passed at all, like she’d simply been dreaming. Jaina was collapsed to the side of her, breathing heavily.

Sylvanas clutched her chest. Twitching weakly. ‘Did my… did my heart just…’

"Your heart?" Came Jaina’s confused groan, "What about your heart?"

If it had actually beat like her aching muscles suggested, it wasn't doing so now. But there was nothing she was feeling more acutely than Jaina's pulse. No. Not just her pulse...

‘They said it got intense but... Shit. Ok. That's... Different. I really don’t think this is normal. Something’s gone wrong.’ Jaina's voice was clear in her head. The woman slowly sat up, looking at her arms where there were still fading patterns of magic across her skin.

Sylvanas’s eyes flicked over. ‘Ok, either you gave me telepathy, or I'm still high on orgasm and magic and my imagination is more active than usual.’

Jaina's head jerked up and she stared, ".... Did you just...?"

"My heart beat in that... magic... vision... thing, and now I can hear what you're thinking." Sylvanas gave a tired smile. "Guess we'll have to trust each other now, we literally can't lie to each other."

Jaina grit her teeth, "That's... Um... Alright. That's definitely... A little abnormal. But considering the circumstances I suppose that's not the worst thing..." She paused thought, "You said.... Your heart beat? Are you feeling alright?"

"It was... unexpected. My whole chest aches, it’s not really used to working." She took a breath. "Maybe it was just part of the vision. Or… something about someone living and someone undead being bound together. You’re the mage."

Jaina watched the magic disappear on her skin and slowly lay back down, “It’s not… This isn’t normal. I’ve never read about anything like that. I… Have theories but I’m going to have to do some research obviously. But as long as we’re alive then… I suppose we can make this work.”

“As long as you’re alive, anyway,” Sylvanas quipped. The elf crawled over, lay next to Jaina, kissed her softly. "We're well and truly married now, I guess."

Jaina made herself take a deep breath to relax herself, "Can't be rid of me now."

The mage rolled towards Sylvanas so she could cuddle closer, "To be fair... You did tell me to make your heart beat."

"I did," the grey woman said with a chuckle. "Excellent job. Congratulations."

‘Fuck you, Arthas, I got your girl. Suck on that in whatever hell you're in.’

There was a pause, Sylvanas could feel a kind of ripple of unhappiness that wasn’t her own, then Jaina spoke a little clipped, "... Please tell me you didn't do this to get back at his ghost?”

Sylvanas blinked at her, then looked away awkwardly. "No, of course not. It was just... a silly thought." She sighed. "I have a lot of those. You'll get used to it, I suppose."

Jaina sighed and managed to make herself relax again, "I suppose I will." She leaned up, kissing Sylvanas briefly.

Sylvanas gently ran a hand along Jaina's cheek. "You were right to run when you did, though," she said softly. "If he'd caught you... you'd have been right there with me in my suffering. He was obsessed. Only his ambition for power kept him on track with his plans."

Jaina frowned, "... If I hadn't run when I did he may never have picked up Frostmourne."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Someone would have claimed the blade eventually. And if not, perhaps Mal'ganis would have won and destroyed everything. All I know is what I saw."

Jaina's pulse shivered, worried against Sylvanas's mind, wanting to comfort, "... Do you want to talk about it?"

Sylvanas said nothing aloud. Jaina caught flashes of conflicting emotions and scraps of unhappy thoughts.

"...do you think it would help?" the Warchief said finally in an oddly small voice.

"The worst that can happen is it doesn't." Jaina said gently, reaching up to cup Sylvanas's face, "But at least then I'll know and I might find ways to help when you need it."

‘I want to help her.... Can anyone help with something like this though?’

"So you're finding I'm an even bigger smartass on the inside and I'm finding that you're a pessimist, great," Sylvanas said with a twist of dark humour.

Jaina flushed, "I'm worried for you! I'm not a pessimist. Are you telling me you weren't worried for me when I woke up screaming from a nightmare?"

Sylvanas shook her head. "No. You're right. We're just... this whole sharing thoughts thing is going to take time."

Jaina nodded, "It'll... be an adjustment But it'll be fine." She wrapped her arms around Sylvanas again and curled up under her chin.

"So... Do you want to talk about it?"

There was a long silence.

"...all right,” Sylvanas said quietly.

Chapter Text

Sylvanas held her close.  "How much do you know about the invasion of Quel'thalas?"

"Not very much. I've seen some of the scar and loose stories of your death... But that's about all. I only know what happened to Kael after."

"He came out of nowhere.  We'd isolated ourselves from Lordaeron for years, as you know, and then we suddenly had Prince Arthas on our doorstep with an army of undead.  I was on the front lines from the start, and I used every trick I could think of to slow or stop him."

I spent so many of my men and women.  Sent them off on suicide missions.  Spent them like... arrows in the quiver. It wasn't clear if she'd meant for Jaina to hear that.

Jaina didn't respond. She was hardly horrified. How many similar regrets did she have?

Many.

Instead she was silent and gently stroked Sylvanas's back.

"He always pushed through.  Slaughtered my runners.  Destroyed our defences.  Broke the elfgate.  Until we were right under the walls of Silvermoon, the city was unprepared, and I was bleeding soldiers.  I ran out of arrows, a ghoul pack knocked me down... and then there he was.  Face to face."

For the first time, Jaina’s gaze took in the pale, ragged mark on Sylvanas’s chest. Is that…

Sylvanas didn’t respond aloud. But her fingers ghosted over the scar, and the memory blossomed so intensely that for a moment, Jaina felt like she was there.

“Finish it. I deserve… a clean death…”

“After all the trouble you’ve given me, woman, the last thing you deserve is the peace of death.”

“No! You… wouldn’t… dare! AAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHH!”

Jaina's grip on her wife tightened, jaw clenching at that distant feeling of agony, "The fact that you kept your sanity..."

"Some don't."  Sylvanas sighed, her tone flat despite the remembered anguish shocking through her mind.  "Being part of the Scourge is... cold.  Your mind is locked in an icy prison.  You have free will, but... only within that prison.  It's a cruel, perverse form of stability.  But Arthas wasn't done with me."

"You've inconvenienced me, elf.  Greatly.  You've obstructed me at every turn.  In payment, you will join me in the final assault on Silvermoon.  You will kill any that stand in our way.  Man, woman or child.  Do you understand, banshee?"

"Yes, Prince Arthas.  I understand."

Jaina stilled, "... He made you-" She couldn't finish it.

"I personally ended the last survivor of my rangers.  I took command of the banshees that he raised, and followed the shock troops, slaughtering dozens of my kin.  I can remember their horrified expressions when they recognised me."

Jaina hadn't known. She was aware of what Arthas was capable of, or rather, what the Lich King was capable of. Arthas's soul had little sway even towards the beginning. He had lingered in small ways... But not when it came to battle.

Actually, perhaps he had lingered in battle even. There had always been negatives to Arthas that Jaina never wanted to think about when she was young and then when he was dead. For a long time she blamed Frostmourne and the Legion entirely.

"Ironically I think it might have contributed to my power," Sylvanas admitted.  "Personally murdering a dozen powerful mages after the ghouls and skeletons had worn them down gave me... quite a boost.  He left me to finish breaking the spirit of the High Elves while he went south with Kel'thuzad, and... summoned the Legion.  I just... kept killing, kept getting stronger, until nothing could stand before me."

"... Not to sound rude but... Why do the blood elves still view you as a hero?" Jaina asked hesitantly.

The Banshee Queen sighed, shook her head. “I have a… complicated relationship with them. They remember me as a fallen champion who tried to save them. And as a scourge who tried to destroy them. But they figured out the game.  I couldn't tell them.  I couldn't do anything to warn them, do anything but kill them when they got in my way.  But I was stupid.  I was literal.  They knew very well what I was capable of, so seeing me waste forces, ignore obvious outposts... they learned to just melt away. When I freed myself, I did a lot of work to try and do what I could for them. To make amends."

Jaina felt... Oddly relieved. She wasn't entirely sure why.

"How did you break free of his control?"

"I didn't.  Not for a while.  You see, when the elves were well and truly scattered, and Silvermoon was a broken ruin, I marched south to rejoin the main Scourge army.  Arthas knew that I'd only obeyed the letter of his orders, he'd realised that the Legion considered him just a disposable toy... so he was in a foul mood.  Thus... well.  He decided to take it out on what was left of my mind.  He’d stored the bodies of all of my rangers, told me to reclaim mine… and then took advantage of my new corporeality."

... No, was all Jaina could think. She didn’t want to read into that. She didn’t want to jump to the conclusion her mind immediately went to, "What do you mean?"

"...it's how I know that I can have sex," the elf said awkwardly.  "And of course... the ice of the Scourge meant I couldn't even say no.  I could only scream in my head."

Jaina’s fingers tightened on Sylvanas' back.

What use did the weapon called the 'Lich King' have for such things? Surely none. How much of Ner’zhul was truly left after the Legion was done with him?

But Arthas had always been rather... Needy. Demanding. It's why she had been a meek lover for so long. He was her first and he had been both gentle and demandingly domineering with her.

Rationally she knew it was pointless for this to upset her. It was pointless to be angry. That she would be better served being calm and comforting. But bitter tears welled up and she pressed her face against Sylvanas's chest, clutching her. It wasn't hard for her memories of Arthas to turn into imaginings of what his Lich King influenced behaviour might have looked like.

Sylvanas’s tone was a cold monotone as she continued.  Seemingly talking about this as though discussing the weather.

"I think that's when I really did go insane," she said after a moment.  "Arthas left for Kalimdor, you banished the Legion, Illidan used the Eye of Sargeras to attack the Lich King and injured him... and the Scourge started breaking down.  I shattered the ice around my mind, and used my leverage over the banshees to bring them out as well.  Tried to kill Arthas, but Kel'thuzad saved him, and then both left.  Arthas for Northrend, Kel went to Naxxramas and watched Lordaeron burn, as the remaining Nathrezim commandeered parts of the Scourge and I rallied the free undead, and set about using the proto-Forsaken to destroy everything that threatened us.  When it became clear we needed allies… the Alliance wouldn’t have us, so I turned to the Horde and never looked back. I didn't... I didn't really stop being a complete monster until Arthas died."

Sylvanas clenched her fists convulsively.  "And I didn't even get to be there.  Or have any say in putting someone else in that stupid throne."

"I wasn't either... But I'd have given up my right to put him to rest to give that to you." There was a distinct anger in Jaina’s mostly calm tone... And there was no hiding the wash of fury she felt inside.

It made her think of Garrosh in a way. The fact that she was not there to finish him. That it was Thrall instead... She'd regretted it. And she'd severed ties with her old friend partly because of it. If she had deserved to strike down Garrosh, Sylvanas' had deserved to have the same with Arthas. Maybe that was selfish, considering both men had hurt so many...  But feelings weren’t always rational.

The Warchief sighed softly.  "Of course, at that point I'd made my bed.  Garrosh ruled the Horde and despised me, using me to do all the dirty work.  I was feeling spiteful and bitter towards the living and the Alliance, and my priority shifted from vengeance on Arthas to... defending my people.  And the rest… well, the rest is history."

There was a moment of silence and then... Sylvanas sobbed.  Holding herself together while telling the story and now... collapsing.

That shocked the mage out of her anger immediately. Careful as she could she moved up so that Sylvanas could rest against her instead. She didn't shush the dead woman or try and soothe it away, but she did hold her, feeling her pain intensely through their connection, "I'm sorry Sylvanas... I'm so sorry."

There were no tears, the dead don't cry, but Sylvanas still shuddered, wracked with sorrow and trauma and pain.  Clutching onto Jaina tightly, nuzzling in and seeking comfort.

"I have you, Sylvanas. I'm here." Jaina pressed gentle kisses to her hay-coloured hair, ran her fingers over her cold back, wrapped a leg around hers... Anything she could do to be closer and more comforting.

Sylvanas clutched on. Letting the emotions wash through her. Years of pain unexpressed. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you," she mumbled.

Jaina held her tight, snorted softly.  "Of course. Why not start the fourth war because someone admitted to you needing a hug?"

"I don't need stupid orcs asking if I'm going soft," Sylvanas groaned. But she managed a small chuckle. "I'm already going to get funny looks if I start showing hickeys."

"I could challenge them?” Jaina suggested teasingly, relaxing again, “Show dominance so that they understand why you're getting hickies?”  That... definitely implied more sex. And biting. 

Mmm... biting…

Sylvanas laughed again. "That'd be a sight." She took a slow breath, rolled on to her back. "Thank you. For listening."

Jaina moved after her a little, wrapping her arms back around Sylvanas's waist as she laid her head on the woman's shoulder, "You're welcome. From experience it won't fix it... But it does help. Like lancing an infected wound."

Sylvanas stared up at the ceiling for a while. Trying to process, find some calm. Deal with… everything that had just happened.

Then she sat up sharply as three ghostly, armoured and winged figures loomed over the bed. "This had better be good!" she snarled.

"Your soul shifted. We were concerned," the lead Val'kyr said bluntly.

Cold had filled the air as the mage raised a hand, the lances of ice she relied on condensing over her palm at the sudden intrusion… But she almost as immediately banished them when she realised what the interruption was. Jaina really had to get a better reflex then 'use magic to destroy' when things startled her these days.

But could you blame her? She'd spent most of the last year fighting the Legion on her own.

And she was jumpy before that.

Luckily the mage’s second reaction was to drag the covers over the two of them for modesty, "Your mistress just got married to a mage, of course her soul is going to have shifted." She tried not to sound as irritated or embarrassed as she was.

Sylvanas’s eyes narrowed, and she pointed sharply.  “Out!” she snapped.

"You don't understand," the Val'kyr said with a calmly irritable tone, "Your soul has been split and remoulded. Our binding to you is now a binding to Lady Proudmoore also."

Jaina stared, dumbfounded, "... What?"

Sylvanas looked thoughtful. Internally she was fighting sudden panic. Her expansion of the Forsaken, her harvesting of graveyards, even her ability to resurrect... if Jaina objected to any of it, she might be able to stop it.

"We'll discuss the ramifications later," she said with an outwardly bored tone. "For now, get out of my bedroom."

The Val'kyr faded.

Jaina eyed her wife briefly, feeling that internal turbulence, but let her head drop back onto the mattress, "... Alright. Unforeseen consequences. But at least your pact with them remains?"

Sylvanas reacted poorly to threats. If Jaina was calm and didn’t make this a huge deal her wife might relax again.

Sylvanas nodded, sighed. Squirmed to cuddle up. "...they might see it as their duty to raise you now unless you actively order them not to," she said reluctantly.

"... I hope you mean if I die?" said Jaina.  Hadn't Genn said something about her only having so many left? Something about Eyir?

"Yes." Sylvanas shook her head. "They don't kill unless pressed into a battle."

The elf grimaced a little. "And... yes. I only have those three, and no way to make more. Genn destroyed the only shot I had at that. The fucker ambushed me. Naked, which was a little weird, but… I was a little busy despairing to comment."

Jaina blinked, then sighed, "Right. Sorry. It just... Popped into my head. He told us about your attempt to subjugate her..."

"There's no one else who could care for and lead the Forsaken," she said simply.  "If I were to die, they would die out - quite apart from relying upon the Val’kyr to reinforce our numbers.  And we aren't... weren't... short on enemies."

Jaina gently took one of her hands, lacing their fingers together, "Well... now things are different."

"Things will be different," Sylvanas corrected.  "We have a peace treaty and we got married.  Actually changing anything will take time."

On that... Jaina could agree.  "We can change it now, though. Together."

"Yes," the undead woman said softly.  "We will."

***

By the end of her first week, Undercity seemed to be growing on Jaina. It was like the third rite had made the underground, the slime, the omnipresent scent of death, just... that little bit more homely in a strange way. Or at least less foreign to her.  Even the locals were friendlier, although they still stared and whispered sometimes. She was wife of their Dark Lady, and that counted for far more than her continued breathing.

The Val'kyr, meanwhile, had rather casually adopted her.  Giant undead warrior women who didn’t care if she was breathing or not. As far as they were concerned she was the wife of the queen and that was good enough.  The Dark Rangers seemed to feel similarly. 

It was one thing to know about the Forsaken's almost cult-like devotion to Sylvanas, and it was another to see it in action.

Nathanos remained in prison.  Sylvanas seemed to be putting off dealing with him for as long as she could.  Suffering a lot of complex feelings.  But stray thoughts and odd conversations were increasingly suggesting that her former lieutenant had had a lot of influence over her, and encouraged her worst tendencies. Based on what she knew of how Sylvanas reacted to things Jaina had opted to hold back. Nathanos was locked away, Sylvanas was processing… And if Jaina forced the issue like she’d wanted to initially it could push her wife too hard too fast.

It was, in its own way, good practice for Jaina to hold her temper. She was likely going to need to be able to do that, one way or another.

Being by Sylvanas's side also let her see the funny little things.  The bits of character in the Horde that blurred away in opposition, something she’d almost forgotten in the long years of conflict. The champions of the Horde were… almost the same as the champions of the Alliance, just with a different background. But they could be just as amusing to watch as they sorted out what to do with this new peace.  These were all just... people.

As for Sylvanas herself... the Dark Lady relaxed.  It was getting easier to see when the endless snark was covering deeper feelings, and when she was just being an ass (which was regularly).  She was troubled, and who wouldn't be after her history, but... underneath the attitude and ruthlessness, she cared deeply about her people and would do anything to defend them.

And there was a surprising amount of time spent in the bedroom.  The Banshee might have had a more passive role the first time, but she quickly warmed up to it, and seemed fond of subtle teasing and innuendo to build up anticipation throughout the day.  She seemed just as happy on her knees as pinning Jaina to a wall.

It didn’t help that basically any time either woman had a coherent thought about the other’s body their moods would feed into each other’s thoughts until something had to be done about it or they wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else.

Jaina had been intentionally trying to acclimatise herself, to the undead, to her position, to Sylvanas herself. It... wasn't going half bad to be honest. But being able to see past the Banshee Queen's top layer of armour made it so much easier than it might otherwise have been.

The rather intense sex helped as well. She'd all but buried the squeamishness about undeath with her first dive between Sylvanas's legs... although she still hadn’t asked about the ice thing. Better to warm up to that.

Pun unintended.

The week had passed before the mage realised it.  A far greater delay in leaving or speaking to Anduin than she’d anticipated, although she’d been rather vague about timescales... but this strange, undead isolation couldn’t last forever. The Alliance was likely getting antsy.

She told Sylvanas the morning of her seventh day in Undercity, "I'll be in Stormwind probably most of the day. I might stay the night if I decide to sort out who the human liaison will be. It depends on if Anduin has a short list for me yet."

Sylvanas sighed.  Reluctant to let the woman go, but… aware that the honeymoon had to end.  "Very well," she said.  "You know where I am if you need anything."

Wish I could see Anduin's face when he sees those bitemarks...

"If I'm not back by tonight I'll be here tomorrow morning." She tugged at her collar with a flush, "... I think I'll wear something more covering."

"Are you ashamed of how good a time you've been having?" Sylvanas said, deadpan, although her thoughts gave away her amusement.

"I'd rather not have to answer questions about it." Jaina grumbled, "You're enjoying this too much, Windrunner."

"’Why do I have bite marks?  My wife's an enthusiastic lover.’  There, done."  The elf smirked a little, looking like the proverbial cat.

The mage gave a long suffering sigh, "Fine. You get to deal with Anduin demanding to know if you're being too rough with me and prying into our marriage."

"My dear Jaina, you know how much I love winding Anduin up,” Sylvanas said, stretching languidly.

"And how much will you love him winding me up?" Jaina objected.

"Will it result in you taking your frustration out on me?" Sylvanas quipped back.

"It will result in me avoiding you and your damn teeth," was the irritated response.

"You're no fun."  Sylvanas stretched, kissed her playfully, sat up.  "Very well.  I'll see you tomorrow."

No fun? That's hardly what you were squealing last night…  Jaina got up quickly, going to pull on her clothes. She'd eat in Stormwind.

Sylvanas paused in pulling her own pants on to swat Jaina’s rear.  "Very funny."

Jaina yelped and then scowled at her, but there wasn’t much heat in it.

"I'll return." The mage finished attaching her cloak and held out a hand, portal pulling open before her, "I'll tell Anduin hello for you."

Then she stepped through.

The mage got a brief glimpse of Sylvanas blowing a kiss, then she was in the throneroom of Stormwind.  The guards leaping to attention.  "Lady Proudmoore!  Are you... well?"

She pulled her braid back over her shoulder, "Fine, thank you captain. Where is Anduin?"

"Taking breakfast, ma'am.  Shall I escort you to him?"

"Please, I could do with something to eat." She was... mostly covered. It’d do. Her braid was covering the bruise that was under her ear, too high up for a collar to properly hide anyway.

The soldier led her through the palace, to a little chamber overlooking the city.  Anduin shot to his feet with a concerned look.  "Au- Jaina!  I was getting worried!  Thank you, captain."

The guard saluted and left.

Jaina smiled, a little relieved she hadn't found him with Genn demanding him to be in the war room, "I'm sorry, it took a little longer than I expected. Am I too late for breakfast?"

"No, of course not.  Sit, join me.  Where have you been?  How have you been?"  Anduin’s boyish smile and cheerful enthusiasm was a nice change from Undercity’s aura of permanent gloom.

The mage happily sat to the smell of eggs and sausages. Undercity might have food she could eat but it hadn't been quite as fresh or good.

"Mostly in the Undercity. Before you start losing your mind let me be clear; I am fine.  It took a little longer than I was expecting because the magic of the rites interacted rather... intensely with Sylvanas. She's been nothing but gracious."  And sarcastic and...

Oh.

She... Couldn't feel Sylvanas anymore. Or hear anything.

They must be too far apart.

Which meant Sylvanas couldn't feel her either.

This was... distressing.  She knew, rationally, it would be. A piece of her soul was literally back in Undercity and it drove home just how sideways their rites really had gone… That was probably why she felt as awful as she did at the realisation. Not that she’d grown that attached to Sylvanas already.

It was only years of experience that kept her face mostly straight.

"Gracious? Sylvanas Windrunner?  Are we talking about the same woman?" Anduin said, trying to keep the mood light.

Jaina snorted, "Alright, she's been occasionally sulky when I don't back down and rather snarky half the time but she's treating me well and... This might really work Anduin." She... wasn't sure she wanted to mention the assassination attempt yet. Not until it’d been dealt with.

Anduin studied her for a moment.  "Well, you're still alive, so... that's good," he said with a smile.  "I've been struggling to wrangle Genn.  But things have largely been quiet here.  I think that the naysayers are just waiting for the shoe to drop."

Jaina paused for a moment. "Trust me. I was as well."

She thought it had when her limbs had gone cold...

"But... My bond to Sylvanas is... " She struggled to put it in words that a non-mage would understand, "As I said, the Rites reacted a little oddly with Sylvanas. Not surprising considering her state as a semi-constant magical being at this point. Not to mention the undeath. In a normal mages's marriage the couple is bound together but... It's like two gardens next to each other with a fence. There's a barrier between even if you can see and speak freely between the two places. Ours is the same except... No fence. Two yards but... Grown into each other a bit on one edge. Does that make any sense? It does seem to dim with distance though, which, I should have suspected considering that's normal for the binding rites..." She was scooping eggs, sausages, muffins, jam, herring, all onto her plate.  Apparently she was very hungry.

Never mind that the truth was actually a bit more complicated and… severe then she was letting on, but she hated keeping the truth from Anduin. This was as close to a compromise as she could make.

The young man frowned,  looking concerned again.  "...I'd be careful who you say that to.  Genn would probably take that to mean that you're compromised and Sylvanas has brainwashed you."

Jaina groaned, "Don't think I'm not aware. But that's hardly what it is or how this magic works. It's not a connection that can bind the will or the body. Only the soul." She glanced over at him, "And I'm not telling him, I'm telling you because you are my nephew and my king... And I do feel a little bad I couldn't come to tell you I was alright sooner."

Anduin nodded.  "I'll be keeping an eye on you," he said, half-joking.  Paused.  "...what's it like?  In her head?"

The mage paused to contemplate her answer.

"... Stressful." She admitted after a quiet moment, "She cares deeply about her people and the Horde and worries constantly about their survival. She's just as cunning and ruthless as you'd expect but... There's more to her. A lot more. She wants to care for her people but worries about becoming another Arthas."

Jaina chewed a muffin thoughtfully, "... And she can be surprisingly sweet. She isn't just treating this arrangement as a means to an end or something she's enduring. She had opportunities to simply let me take care of myself and she... didn't. She stayed. It's like I said. I think this partnership can actually work out. I just might start hoping again at this rate." She snorted as she tucked into her breakfast properly.

"I can't imagine the food's been too good," the King remarked, noting her evident hunger.  "Still, you seem in better spirits than I could've hoped for.  So... I'll take that as a good sign."

"Well, there's food I can eat just fine, it's just mostly things that are pickled and cured and... Well, there's the occasional fruit but honestly the Forsaken can't do a breakfast to save their lives." Jaina paused, squinting, "Deaths? Unlives? Anyway... Yes. I'm fine, this is delicious, the first order of business is to get some trade going so I can have some decent food while I'm there.  Silvermoon can only export so much." She chuckled, obviously joking. Good mood? Yeah. She was in a surprisingly good mood.

"On a serious note though,” she continued, “The honeymoon is over. I'm going to need a shortlist of those you think would be a good fit to be liaison for your people."

"Of course."  Anduin smiled.  "You really are hopeful, aren't you?  I don't remember the last time I heard you laugh.  The real question is where we want to send these liaisons to.  If they just stayed in their home cities then there wouldn't be much point, but I don't think anyone would be too keen on going to a Horde city.  Too unbalanced."

"Of course,” Jaina replied. “Currently I plan to make the Proudmoore the first meeting place, but I won't be sending anyone there until I've gotten all the representatives I need. They'll also have to be able to come back to their homes regularly to confer with, say, you and the populace. A more permanent solution will need to be sorted but for now... My ship has the space and the lack of use."

Anduin nodded.  "It'll do for now.  I've had a few people trying to get my support for the position.  Notably Calia."

The mage sighed, "Yes, I did have a feeling that would come up." She pushed her plate away, "Why didn't you tell me she was alive?"

Anduin looked uncomfortable.  "...honestly because I didn't know for a long time.  She barely survived the third war and was in hiding for years until she met Alonsus Faol - remember him?  Since then she's been his assistant."

"Uther's old mentor?" She frowned, but shook her head, "I'm not convinced her involvement would be a good idea. Remember the whole 'no threats to power' bit?"

"I agree," he said.  "But she'll keep trying to find a way in to the Forsaken.  Do you think you could persuade Sylvanas to be a little less hostile?"

"... Possibly.” Jaina sighed.  “I need to speak to Calia in any case."

Anduin nodded.  "There's also the question of your wedding."

She frowned in confusion, "... My wedding?"

"I've discussed it with a few people, and... you signed a piece of paper and went through the rites.  Which I don't really know much about aside from them being a private thing.  But an actual public ceremony would do a lot to raise public trust in the whole thing."

"A public... You want to have an actual... Wedding?"  Oh. Ok. Yeah. That sounded like a great-

WHAT?

"That's... That could take months to plan and sort out. And a lot could go wrong." And she'd have to wear a dress probably and there would be official invitations and announcements and where the hell would they even host it? And...

And...

Her side of any aisle wouldn't have her family in it.

Just Anduin.

Her panic suddenly died and the tired expression that she'd had before all this returned.

"We can figure it all out," Anduin said. His concerned look was back. "What's wrong, Jaina?"

"... Hmm?" She pulled herself out of her reverie, then shook her head, "It's nothing important. Let's talk about your brilliant public relations strategies later and focus on what we can do now. Who besides Calia would you put on the list for me to speak to?"

***

There were a number of people to go through. Jaina decided to leave Calia to last, suspecting that it might be… difficult.  But soon enough, her other interviews were done, and it was time to go see the woman she'd once called 'sister'.

Calia Menethil was quietly sitting in the gardens. An old book in her hands, seemingly a tome of kal’dorei poetry. She seemed to be struggling with the Darnassian script, but she looked up sharply as Jaina approached. A movement that spoke of hard won instinct.

She relaxed upon seeing who it was, and smiled a little sadly. "Jaina."

"Calia." There was no smile on Jaina’s face. This woman's mere existence strained her now for some reason.

She wished she could pin it on her connection to Sylvanas... But she'd felt it before that had ever come into being, "I'd say we all thought you were dead, but I suspect you're getting tired of hearing that." She stood a little ways away from the bench, unsure if she wanted to approach or not.

Calia’s smile faded. "I spent a long time thinking everyone was dead."

Jaina hadn't come here to catch up or reminisce. "Anduin says you'd like to be his liaison to me."

A flicker of hurt passed through Calia's eyes, sensing the line being drawn, followed by resignation. "Yes. I would."

"Why?"

"Because I care about humanity,” the princess of Lordaeron said. “All of it, living and dead. The Third War was a long time ago, nobody's left who really cares about Lordaeron. Not really. Not on our side. I want peace and happiness for everyone."

"And that made you believe that declaring you were going to 'rescue' the Forsaken was going to help peace?" Jaina did her best to keep her tone in check.

Calia stood sharply.  A sudden edge in her voice that could have been frustration, anger or desperation. "I wanted to put those families back together," she snapped.

"But the repercussions of your actions would have torn them and every other family on Azeroth apart,” Jaina responded coldly, "You were happiest caring for your daughter and staying out of the way of your father and brother. You can’t just expect to jump in to this with good intentions and get the results you want. That gets people killed."

"She's dead," Calia said, suddenly just as cold.

The mage’s mouth opened to ask who but… Then it clicked and Jaina's jaw tightened, feeling at least a little shame, "... I'm sorry."

"As is my husband,” Calia continued. “And my father. And my brother, only a monster came back wearing his skin. I was there when the capital fell. I lay in a ditch, covered in mud and blood for days, listening to my home turn into a slaughterhouse, until the ghouls finally moved on. I understand death, Jaina Proudmoore."

Jaina felt her blood rise angrily and tried to swallow it down. Put it to the side.

"Ask anyone on the streets of Stormwind over the age of twenty, Calia. Everyone understands death. Everyone was touched by Arthas, or the Horde, or the Legion. I am sorry your family is gone, but good intentions do not save the world. It leads to more fighting and more death. If I were to consider you for the position it would have to be under the guarantee that you wouldn't break the peace that is the only thing standing between the future and a real and likely final Fourth War.  As liaison you'd be responsible for speaking for the people of Stormwind and Anduin. Not the Forsaken. You would have no say in what happens to them or the Undercity. Your place would be here or wherever we are meeting. Is that something you want?"

"I made an impulsive call,” Calia said, her tone softer. “But nobody believed war could be avoided. I don't want to ruin that now. I'll do whatever is needed of me."

Jaina turned to stare down the other woman, "Would you go before Sylvanas Windrunner and bend on knee to apologise for your outburst? Would you swear that you will not seek the Lorderon throne?"

"Yes," Calia said without hesitation.

"This only happens if Windrunner agrees. She may have other demands. If I deem them fair then I will expect you to adhere to them. Do you agree?"

The princess nodded. "I will happily talk to her. If you believe she is the right leader for the Forsaken, I have no reason to cause a problem."

"I'm not giving you the position until Sylvanas agrees. I will need to talk to her.”  Jaina said firmly, but the anger slowly faded, " But... I know you will listen to everyone who comes to you."

How many times had Calia done the same for her? So very long ago… In a way, her reaction to Calia was much like her first reaction to the reclaimed furniture in Sylvanas’s rooms. It reminded her of painful things. It made her remember times she failed and was failed by others… That wasn’t all Calia’s fault. She didn’t regret what she’d said but she regretted letting this get to her so deeply.

"You could be a fine liaison. I'll let you know what is decided," she said quietly, starting to turn away again. She just wanted to go home now.

No. She wanted to go to the Undercity.

"Could you tell Anduin that I've left, but I'll be in touch? I still have a lot of work to do and I don't want this taking up too much time before I can sort out the other representatives."

"Of course."  Calia had a very familiar expression. One she'd seen in the mirror a lot. The emptiness of one who has lost much, and can find little solace.  A surface calm, with a sea of pain below.

Jaina hesitated... But what could she say? What did they have to talk about? Loss? She had no interest in being vulnerable to this woman like she was as a girl.

It was Calia she'd opened up to just a little about Arthas's... aggressiveness and the hesitations it was giving her. It was Calia who's only advice was to talk to him about it. At the time it made perfect sense. It was completely reasonable. But now in hindsight felt...

Not a betrayal. Not that intense. Just... a failing. One that, given what she had learned from Sylvanas, had coloured her perception of the woman’s judgement in hindsight.

Jaina opened the portal without another word and stepped through... But not to Sylvanas's chambers. It was instead into the dead forest that surrounded Undercity. Giving the briefest glance to make sure she was out of sight, she suddenly and violently let her magic go on a poor unsuspecting tree, not just felling it but ripping it apart with a mixture of fire and ice.

‘I know death, Jaina Proudmoore.’

She pulverised the stump for good measure, ignoring the strange, niggling feeling in the back of her mind. Everything was ignored in her anger at the presumptuous words. Self-centred words. As if no one else had suffered. As if suffering made you qualified for understanding everything. When Jaina was young, Calia was like the sister she’d never had, and now she was a ghost of the past that could threaten Jaina’s last chance for her life and suffering to have meant anything.

No, it was that she threatened the peace of the world. The people that could be eradicated… This wasn’t about Jaina. This couldn’t be about any of them. That was the whole point.

Right?

"That's some rage, my lady." came a cool voice from behind her. A Forsaken; no, a Dark Ranger, and a familiar one.  Hawkspear.   "Vegetation doesn't do it for me, but to each their own."

"Better than taking it out on something that can feel." Jaina felt the angry tension ebb a little as did the dark thoughts as she straightened and hoped she wasn’t about to be told off.  She fixed her braid, "I apologise if I alarmed anyone."

Hawkspear shook her head. "It's a dull patrol usually, thank you for livening it up.” The Dark Rangers, especially those she had been talking to somewhat regularly, had this kind of dance between respect, interest, and disregard. They didn’t treat her with the reverence they did Sylvanas but also without the distrust and disdain they usually showed for the living.

Jaina cleared her throat, regarding the eviscerated and pulverised tree, “You’re welcome, I think.”

"What should I write in my report about this... arcane explosion?"

Jaina chewed on that for a moment before looking back at Hawkspear, "... The Warchief's wife was feeling in the mood for some gardening?"

The ranger gave a dry chuckle. "Got it. I'll leave you to your gardening, my lady."

"I think I'm finished, actually. I'll be on my way." Jaina smiled faintly in return, she raised her hand, opening a portal, "Goodnight, Hawkspear." 

She stepped through to their- erm... Sylvanas's quarters. Violent outbursts were assuaged at least... Though she couldn't help feeling like more aggression was in order…

But that depended on Sylvanas's mood.

... She did not rush back here just to fuck her wife. Jaina needed to talk to her. That was the reason. Nothing more or less. They both had work to do!

The moment her mind calmed she felt that niggling feeling finally click into place. The connection. She could feel Sylvanas again. Not here in the rooms, elsewhere in the city. But it was still soothing.

She felt the spark of happiness that wasn’t her own as Sylvanas realised she was back.

The creeping, almost painful tension Jaina had been carrying in her shoulders and stomach released as she felt the bond sink back into place.

She sat down heavily, the relief was so intense she actually felt a little off balance and had to catch her breath.

I'll need to speak with you when you're free. I'm going to have a bath.

No, Undercity wasn’t home… But her soul was very certain that home was now wherever Sylvanas Windrunner was.

Chapter Text

Jaina felt a spark of curiosity from Sylvanas, trying to decipher what she was feeling from the mage. 

Just finishing an interrogation. I'll come join you after, the Banshee Queen sent.  A flash of blood and pain filtering through, neither belonging to the Forsaken woman, only observed.

Interrogation? Jaina questioned with a frown, looking up from where she’d had to sit. Just who did she have to interrogate right now? Nathanos?

No. Sylvanas had been avoiding her former right-hand-man like the plague. That didn’t bode well.

The Banshee offered no response.  Seemingly busy with her victim rather than ignoring the question.

That agitated. A paranoid part of her mind wanted to go find Sylvanas and demand a response, to know exactly what she was doing. Which would probably lead to a fight. She supposed that her distrust wasn’t completely washed away but… It was calmed by what she knew of Sylvanas.

At the very least, the Warchief wouldn’t be so obvious if she was torturing someone from the Alliance, surely.

Jaina got up, brushing off her emotional response as she left the room. She greeted the ranger guards with a nod on her way out, heading up towards the baths. Much like she was doing with the Nathanos situation, she was keeping herself 

There was a kind of... charm to Undercity once you got used to it. Yes, corpses everywhere but... There was quite a lot of the place that was surprisingly colourful and alive.

For certain definitions there of.

Even the abominations could be... weirdly sweet at times. Sure, they were hulking and grotesque monstrosities, but if you watched them go about their day, they had a kind of endearing dopiness. She'd even seen one get a pat on the head for doing a good job.

The peace and heat of the bath was as lovely as always, washing away her aches and sufferings. Although that tranquillity was being disturbed by her wife; she could feel a malicious glee from Sylvanas that implied the elf was enjoying her job a little more than she ought to.

Definitely not Nathanos, then.

It was rather... distracting actually. How was she supposed to be thoughtful and calm in her approach to these things when this is what she had to deal with? At least with the traitorous lieutenant Sylvanas had tried very hard not to think about him.

I really hope whatever you're doing is worth it, came an irritated thought as the mage sank into the water deeper.

Jealous? came the teasing reply from Sylvanas.

If I wanted you to torture me I'd tell you, Jaina thought. Who the hell are you interrogating during peacetime anyway?

Peace with the Alliance, Sylvanas pointed out. Not everyone else. I’ll tell you about it later.

"...Fair enough." Jaina sighed aloud, staring up at the ceiling. It was easy to forget sometimes that there was more than just the Horde and Alliance in the world...

That didn’t make this any more comfortable… So how did she make it stop?

Well, her wife was fond of ruthless tactics, right?

The mage reached up towards her own chest, plucking at her own nipples harshly, sending a shiver of pleasure down to her core, pleased that the immediate sensation pushed away Sylvanas’s thoughts of her ‘work’.  Well, if you're busy then I'll just see to matters myself.

The response was instant, the echoes of sensation resonating through their link. Unfair!

You're busy, Jaina replied. I understand.

This was so childish. Like she was a teenager acting out for attention.

She wanted Sylvanas's attention? That's what this was about? Not the torture?

Maybe a little. Probably both. 

... Was she just looking for comfort where she could find it again? Was this Kalecgos but... even more?

The claws of a night filled with her doing nothing but thinking about her history and being morose was there, looking for purchase in her mind but… It'd been a long day. She'd think about it tomorrow. For right now she trailed her fingers down her body, to her thighs, sliding the pad of her middle finger along her slit.

You obviously have more important things to do. I'm a big girl, I can see to myself.

Sylvanas didn't immediately respond in coherent thoughts, but she had evidently made some kind of decision. Be careful what you wish for, she said after a minute. She was on her way.

Jaina had half a mind to stop before she got any bigger a reaction out of Sylvanas than she already had... But she didn't. She wasn't even sure what she was after at this point, she'd gotten what she wanted.

Instead she sank a finger into herself, sighing and closing her eyes briefly. I didn't wish for anything. I was just stating the facts.

She pressed the palm of her hand against her clit, not exactly direct stimulation, but a pleasant pressure that made her bite her lip.

A few minutes later, the Banshee Queen burst in. There was still blood on her from whatever poor soul she'd been working over, and her expression was a mixture of excitement and annoyance.

It really showed Jaina’s proclivities that the blood was less stomach turning than it was exciting. She hadn't exactly risen above intensely teasing herself, but she pulled her hands away as she leaned back against the edge, arms back to prop her up, "You can be annoyed if you want, wife, but it's not like I can just turn off my connection to you."

Sylvanas began unbuckling her armour. "You're after attention and doing all you can to get it. I'm not stupid, Jaina."

"If I was doing all I could to get it I'd have found you and kicked the door in," the mage shot back. Outwardly she grinned cheekily... But beyond the excitement for what was to come she...

She was a little surprised at just how glad she was to see Sylvanas.

Sylvanas stripped off the last of her clothes, slid into the water with a bloom of red. Looking over Jaina, studying her for a moment.

"...what happened?" She asked suddenly.

Jaina's cocky smile faltered, "Happened? With Anduin? Nothing. It went about as I expected. Can we talk about it later?"

Cold fingers cupped her cheek. "We've played and teased before, but something's different,” Sylvanas said quietly. “And you came back early."

Jaina leaned into the touch slightly. It was only natural to do so.

"I'd finished what I'd gone there to do. I checked in with Anduin and..." She'd been about to say that nothing happened but... Fine, if they were going to talk now then... Might as well, "I spoke with Calia. She was asking about being a representative for Stormwind."

Sylvanas stiffened slightly. "And?"

"We argued. I told her that if she wanted it so badly she'd have to come here, bow down and ask your forgiveness for what happened at the gathering. That and swear she was forfeiting the crown of Lorderan. I told her only if you agreed would I let her take the position. She agreed to that and any other reasonable demands you might have."

Sylvanas considered this. "Good. And?"

Jaina blinked, "... And? And what?"

"What's bothering you?" her wife asked softly.

The human woman gave Sylvanas a flat look, "You mean besides the fact that you got blood in my bath and you're not manhandling me?"

Those red eyes glinted. Oh. I get it.

"So this is it? You return ahead of schedule, interrupt my work, intentionally distract me from my duty in defence of the Horde? You lie here and demand my attention? You want me to punish your insolence? To treat you how you deserve?"  Despite the playful words, there was a serious edge to her thoughts.

Jaina’s grin returned, "What gave it away?" Finally...

Sylvanas captured her mouth in a hungry kiss, brushing a hand along her cheek. "Very well," she said simply.

Jaina relaxed against it, wrapping an arm around Sylvanas's waist as she kissed back. This is exactly what she needed... This would help.

The banshee pulled back, kissing along her jawline, suckled on an earlobe. Usually she'd be at the biting by now. Sylvanas liked biting.

Jaina tilted her head away, trying to invite that in, sighing, "Tired?"

"A little. Naga are hard to torture." Her hands moved up, teasing at Jaina's nipples. "Why?"

"You're acting kind of lazy." Naga? She’d ask later. Jaina pressed forward into the teasing, looking for more as she wrapped a hand into Sylvanas's hair, tugging at it imploringly.

"Am I?" Sylvanas hummed. Her knee pressed forward, grinding slowly into Jaina, her every motion and action seemingly a tease. A kiss, a gentle squeeze of a nipple, a slow brush of a cheek.

"You are," Jaina groaned, more in irritation than anything, even as her breathing hitched, "You... You don't need to be gentle."

Why was that even in question?

"I know." Sylvanas sounded aggravatingly calm. Didn't change her tactics. Her surface thoughts hard to draw upon.

"Oh, I get it," the mage growled, "You're trying to punish me?"  She suddenly twitched as those teasing fingers brushed over her nipples again, "Sylvanas!"

"I'm giving you what you deserve," Sylvanas hummed.  Dipped her head below water and enveloped a nipple with her mouth, the warm water making up for cold flesh. Her long ears could still hear fine, of course. Not needing to breathe was weird.

Jaina was breathing a little harder, it felt good but was... incredibly unnerving. Not the lack of breathing. But the insistent gentleness. The comment about deserving.

"S-stop. Sylvanas... Stop being gentle."

The elf resurfaced, her touch firmer now but still soft. Her fingers circumnavigating Jaina's clit. "Why?" A strange certainty settling in her thoughts.

Jaina clutched onto her shoulders, curling into her a little, "Why does it matter? Are you actually enjoying this?" She couldn't keep the slightly desperate whine out of her voice.

You asked for what I thought you deserved. The circling turned into rubbing.

Jaina whimpered, "That's.... This isn't...!" I don't deserve this!

You're not in control here, Sylvanas replied implacably.  She shifted her grip, hoisting Jaina partially out of the water by her hips, and buried her head between Jaina's legs, lovingly lapping at Jaina's clit.  Even this more aggressive action wasn't nearly mean enough.

Jaina really had no control did she? She was stuck just laying here and taking it. Unable to distract herself. "Sylvanas please....!" She was trembling now, unable to deny her pleasure even while she wanted more.

Sylvanas didn't stop.  Her licking became more forceful, although she couldn't resist her usual aggressive tongue-fucking, eagerly scouring Jaina's innermost depths and lapping at her juices before returning to the quivering nub above.

But she held herself back from the other accoutrements.  The thigh biting, the butt mauling.  Just gentle, loving, attention.

Jaina was going to cum... But she didn't want to. Not like this.

"Sylvvvv..... Please... Not.. not... Fuck..!" Her legs tightened around Sylvanas's shoulders as she covered her face with her hands as her shaking grew worse.

Yes... cum for me, Jaina... do it!   The wall of silence that Sylvanas had erected in her head was crumbling a little in her excitement.  A finger slid into Jaina's pussy as she focused on suckling at the woman's clit hungrily.

Jaina arched, writhing, It was still so gentle compared to what they had been doing but... She couldn't stop it either. Her muscles tightened and she trembled, before finally the first crest of her orgasm hit her and she cried out, writhed... riding the waves....

Until she burst into soft sobs.

Sylvanas had pulled back, looking at Jaina calmly.  When the tears started, she sighed softly, and leaned in, pulling her wife into a hug.  That’s what I thought.

Jaina shook. She didn't cry much or often. But she clung to Sylvanas, wrapping her arms around her shoulders tightly, "S-sorry... I just… I’m sorry..."

"I'm here," Sylvanas said softly.  Kissed her gently.  "Do you really feel like you need to be punished?"

The mage clung on and pressed her face into Sylvanas's shoulder, "I… I'm sorry..."

"Why?" Sylvanas probed. As though to answer her own question, a strain of 'Daughter of the Sea' ran through her head, and the elf frowned slightly.  "Your father?"

Arthas... Father... Theramore… An ever mounting source of reasons big and small.   Jaina swallowed, "It's not... That I want you to hurt me. I just..."

"I can't offer you forgiveness, Jaina,” Sylvanas said, her voice gentle but firm.  “And I wouldn't if I could.  I don't believe you need to be forgiven for any of those things."

Jaina clung on, "... I can't forgive myself." She whispered.

"Why not?" Sylvanas probed.

"Because I could have stopped it. I could have done more. I could have and I didn't."

"You're not responsible for the decisions of others," Sylvanas said flatly.  "Nobody is.  Arthas chose his own doom.  Garrosh was a monster.  And your father was a fool who gave you an impossible choice, and you made the same decision I would've done."

"I could have done more though,” Jaina said, an edge of desperation creeping into her voice. “I could have stopped father. I could have stopped Arthas. I just... let them do as they were going to do. I let others deal with the consequences."

Sylvanas pursed her lips.  "Guilt is not a good motivator.  It leaves you crippled, more focused on destroying yourself than completing your goals.  Sometimes it makes you forget that you had any.  Saurfang is eaten alive by it, it's why he's a liability."

"I'm not consumed by my guilt." Jaina said quietly, the tears had mostly dried and she felt utterly raw, "I was already crippled by hate."

"I know. Hate… hate is a good motivator. I ran on hate for many years. It’s why I had you marked as my most dangerous enemy until you proposed."  Sylvanas sighed.

Jaina was quiet for a moment, "... Why did you agree to this, Sylvanas?"

"Because if you, a woman filled with hate and revenge, with the raw power to act upon it and nothing to lose, could want to bury the hatchet and find peace... then maybe the gap between the Horde and the Alliance isn't so insurmountable."

The mage held onto Sylvanas still, tucked against her shoulder, "Two weeks ago my plan was that if this fell through I wouldn't hesitate to bring the full brunt of my wrath against the Horde... And today all I could think was how much I wanted to be here."

"You bound us together," Sylvanas pointed out.  Bowed her head a little.  "...I missed you too."

"I apologise for dragging you away from your... work." Jaina was finally starting to calm, "...my argument with Calia got to me."

"You don't say," Sylvanas said dryly.

The mage sighed, "Can I make it up to you?" Pause, "That's... That's not an innuendo. I mean that honestly."

Sylvanas brushed Jaina's cheek, smiled. "I can handle Calia. If I promise not to do anything against her will, do I have a free hand?"

Jaina pulled back, looking her over, "I have your word?"

"If I've read her correctly, she'll do everything I want,” Sylvanas said with an air of satisfaction.

"What do you want her to do?" Jaina asked, frowning.

"I'm going to make her choose which nation she cares more about. If she picks Lordaeron, I own her. If she picks Stormwind, she removes herself as a symbol."

Jaina chewed her lip, "... As long as it's her choice."

"I win either way," Sylvanas said with a dry smirk. "As to how you can make it up to me..." She shook her head. "Maybe you can't forgive yourself. But remember that you're blameless in my eyes. If that means anything at all."

"Well, I suppose that has to count for something considering you're my wife." She smiled faintly.

"Exactly." Sylvanas kissed her softly. "You don't deserve to be punished."

The elf paused. "Of course, I also found being that gentle a little dull, so… expect more biting next time.  We don’t always get what we deserve."

Jaina flushed but laughed softly, "I don't enjoy the rough treatment because I want to be punished. If I didn't enjoy it I wouldn't participate."

"Good. Just so long as we understand each other," Sylvanas chuckled.

Jaina leaned into her wife again, curling up against her, "Thank you."

The Banshee Queen wrapped her arms around Jaina. "Don't think you can always get away with interrupting my duties," she warned. "But I did miss you. And the damn snake wasn't giving any answers."

"Why were you interrogating one?" Jaina settled in comfortably against her wife, well and truly relaxing. Warm water, an orgasm and now cuddles… these were all good things.

"She was spying,” Sylvanas said, her gentle tones fading into the cold drawl of ‘business’. “Not sure how she escaped notice for so long, but there’s been signs of someone snooping for a while."

Jaina frowned, "Was she using a glamour?"

"It's possible. Why?" the Forsaken replied.

"I just didn't think that kind of magic would hide them well enough. With their... snake bodies and all."

"Neither did we," Sylvanas said grimly. "Hence why we're so keen to find their secrets."

"Of course." Jaina hummed, "Do you want me to have a look? For any trace of magic that they might retain?"

"I was hoping you might volunteer. But there’s no rush, she’s not going anywhere. It can wait for tomorrow." Sylvanas nuzzled her gently. "Are you hungry?"

"I did kind of flee Stormwind rather than sticking around for dinner..." Jaina pushed some of Sylvanas's hair away from her face.

"Come on, then." Sylvanas withdrew from the embrace reluctantly, pulled herself from the water. "Do you plan any other excursions? I suppose you'll need to visit everyone eventually. Rather you than me visiting the worgen, though."

"I need to meet with all peoples and hopefully work out who could be an adequate diplomat..." Jaina followed after but lingered on the side of the pool, "... There's something else. Something Anduin pointed out."

"Hmm?" Sylvanas began drying off. "What would that be?"

"A wedding." Jaina tried to say it as neutrally as possible, "A public one."

Sylvanas was silent for a long time. A minor storm exploding in her thoughts before calm returned. "It's a good idea," she said reluctantly.

"You sound as thrilled as I did when he brought it up." Jaina laughed a little ruefully. She finished drying off but did little more than pull on her pants and shirt, intent on not walking back.

They say mages got lazy... But honestly she felt like if she didn't use her magic, it started building up inside her. And with portals she got so much more done by not wasting time travelling.

"Do you want to do it?" Jaina asked, collecting her discarded belongings.

Sylvanas grimaced. "Mostly I'm not looking forward to all the politics and arguments as everyone tries to put forward their opinions about what and where. You know everyone will want to discuss the details."

Jaina nodded, opening the portal to their chambers, "I haven't much thought about having a wedding since... Well." She sighed and stepped through, leaving it open for Sylvanas, "I'm... going to have to go home."

Sylvanas looked confused for a moment, then she bristled as she realised what that meant, looking like she wanted to object. Finally she sighed. "I... understand. Even though the knowledge of how they'll treat you infuriates me. I somehow doubt that marrying the Banshee Queen, let alone the Warchief, will do anything to help your standing there."

Jaina sighed as well, "I... don't know what will happen." She switched gears, instead focusing into a more objective facet, "Kul Tiras cannot be left out of things any longer. Just like the Gilneans couldn't stay behind their wall forever and... The world's going to change around them. They deserve to know and make the choice of what to do about it."

Sylvanas's expression was quite eloquent about her opinion of the Gilneans, but she kept her thoughts to herself.  "They're your people.  I'm in no place to judge."

Jaina nodded, "We'll worry about it later. There's too much to worry about now for me to be going back."  Jaina just about managed to put on a faint smile, "You mentioned feeding me?"

"I did."  Sylvanas chuckled softly.  "If I'd known you'd be home, we might've had a guest.  Baine is in the eastern kingdoms on some excuse, but really I think he wants to see how you're faring under the terrible banshee queen."

Jaina frowned, "Well, I did say I'd probably be back... Where is he? I could fetch him easily enough."

Sylvanas waved a hand.  "Up in Silvermoon.  He's not exactly fond of Undercity."

Jaina considered that, "I don't remember the last time I was in Silvermoon. We could go there instead?"

"...I suppose I could be up for an excursion.  Perks of having a mage for a wife?"  Sylvanas gave a chuckle.  "We can surprise Lor’themar as well into the bargain."

Jaina snorted, "Well, might let me talk to them about who they might recommend to the position of liaison." She pulled out fresh clothes.

"Excellent."  Sylvanas began digging around for some clothes for herself.  She always gave the impression that she’d be completely out of place in a dress, but she paused in reaching for her typical armour. Shaking her head, instead plucking out a shirt and pants of elven make, perhaps the sort of thing she’d once worn before the fall of Silvermoon. A hint of elegance rather than the harsh utility she usually embodied.

They were at peace, after all.

Jaina watched her quietly for a moment. It was a thought that had crossed her mind several times but it caught her at odd moments even now. Pretty.

Sylvanas glanced up.  Blushed faintly.  Same to you.

Jaina blinked and then went a bit red, "Yes. Well. Thank you. Shall we?" She opened a portal, holding out a hand to her wife. Sharing surface thoughts is taking a lot of getting used to.

The elf took the hand with almost teasing delicacy.  Flashed Jaina a smile.  "Let's go."

Chapter Text

Jaina pulled her wife through the portal and out at the gates of Silvermoon. She didn't know what had changed enough to take them anywhere else safely.

The Scar was immediately obvious.  Even all these years later, Arthas's trail of destruction was still visible.  Tearing through the walls and the verdant woods.

The guards ahead of them stiffened, reaching for their weapons before they recognised the two women.  Then they hesitantly saluted.

"At ease," Sylvanas drawled.  "Take us to the palace."

"Yes, Warchief!"

Jaina stood a little closer to Sylvanas just on account of not wanting to make anyone nervous... But it was heartbreaking to see the scar up-close like this and she had difficulty pulling her eyes away. She hadn't been here since before the third war. Years and years ago. Now...

"Can it not be healed?" Jaina asked even as she knew it was a ridiculous question. If it could, they would have done it already.

Sylvanas glanced over as they passed through the gates.  "No.  Arthas made sure that it was utterly ruined for life.  He resented how long we held out, and wanted to punish us for it, so that even if we came back, we'd always know who our master was."

The mage felt an anger not all her own grip her, but she said nothing more on the subject.

Arthas had not been a god. Maybe she could find a way to heal the scar... But Jaina put that aside for now.

Considering the stories she'd heard, from Sylvanas and from others... the extent to which Silvermoon itself had been rebuilt was impressive.  There were differences to what the human remembered of this place.  A more martial aspect touched everything, an emphasis on red instead of blue.  But it was still Silvermoon.  Almost like the Blood Elves had taken the scar as a challenge, and remade their home as perfectly as they could.  The city itself bustled; mostly elves, of course, but other horde races were scattered throughout.  And like Undercity, it was... strange, to see the civilian side of the enemy, something she hadn't really seen since her meetings with Thrall ended.

She'd never travelled here during those days. She'd been limited to Orgrimmar and Thunderbluff during her visits with the Horde. Jaina was... actually happy to see this though. Undercity had taken getting used to but Silvermoon didn't hold bad memories for her. Seeing them still thriving through the horror that had fallen on them was... Nice. Yes. Nice. They weren't her enemies anymore.

They got some attention, of course.  Jaina Proudmoore and Sylvanas Windrunner weren't going to be able to escape notice walking down the street.  A lot of whispering and pointing.  Soon enough though they were approaching the grand palace, and the line of guards outside.

Jaina wasn't exactly unused to getting stared at and whispered about at this point, but... she'd manage.  "Tell me, Windrunner," It felt... odd to call her by her first name or by 'wife' when they were in public, "Is all the attention just for me or do you get this treatment normally?"

"I think it's the combination of the two of us," Sylvanas hummed.  "Our marriage is the talk of the Horde."

"It's the talk of everyone. But surprisingly I've yet to field any question beyond Anduin making sure I'm alright." Jaina watched an elvish woman lean in close to her partner and mutter something.

"Would you consider yourself to be an approachable person, Proudmoore?" Sylvanas asked, faint amusement in her voice.

"Before my city and my people were bombed I was so approachable I had open relations with the Horde,"  Jaina returned dryly.

"The innuendos are so easy I'm not even going to bother,” the Banshee quipped softly.  “And that's my point, Jaina, that was before .  You've been projecting 'unstoppable rage queen' since then."

"Unstoppable rage queen?" She grumbled, "I guess I'm a good match for you, Immovable Sass Queen."

Sylvanas snickered.  "I'll take that as a compliment."

Jaina had to school her face to keep it from grinning as well, "Lets just go impose on your subjects for dinner before we give people rumours of royal squabbling." 

They passed into the palace, and they caught a glimpse of several people fleeing with the expressions of servants everywhere dealing with unexpected developments.  A short time later, Lor'themar and Baine emerged.  "...Lady Windrunner, Lady Proudmoore," Lor'themar said, with a faintly long suffering look.  "This is an unexpected pleasure."

"I asked to come." Jaina gave the man a slightly apologetic look, "I heard Baine was here and thought I might catch two of you at once."

The big tauren padded over, inclining his head in polite greeting.  "Lady Proudmoore," he rumbled.  "You appear... well?"

The mage actually did smile at the young bull, "You look just like Anduin when I visited him. I'm doing fine, thank you. My only complaint is the Forsaken's reliance on non-perishable food..." The bruises had mostly faded anyway, and she was covered either by her clothes or by her braid, "I'm starting the search for my liaisons to the people of Azeroth. I was hoping I could speak to the two of you about who you might recommend."

"And on a related note to both, impose on you for an evening meal," Sylvanas put in. “Jaina wanted a break from Forsaken cooking.”

Lor'themar smiled brightly. "Of course.  Come this way," he gestured.

Baine fell in next to Jaina, following the two elves, and rested a heavy hand on her shoulder for a moment.  "I had my concerns," he said simply.

Jaina put a hand on... Well, more like onto one of his fingers really. They were very large hands, "... Considering the time and distance between us I'll take that as a compliment. But I promise, I'm doing... Much better than I could have anticipated going into this."

The mage looked up at him, "Part of the reason I bullied Sylvanas into coming was to soothe your concern."

The tauren treated her to a gentle, grateful smile.  "It is good to be on speaking terms once more.  Once the peace has settled, I hope to meet with King Wrynn again."

"You will, I'm sure." Jaina chuckled, "I'm not kidding either, you both had almost the exact same reaction and expression."

"He is a good man.  An honourable man."  Baine glanced at Sylvanas ahead of them, talking with Lor'themar, and lowered his voice.  "I am glad that I did not have to fight him by the side of one... less so."

Her smile faded, "... You put quite a lot of weight on a young man, and not enough on your warchief."

Baine shook his head.  "You did not hear her in the days before the Gathering.  As she laid her plans and spoke felfire and brimstone at any chance of a peaceful future."

"... And you were not speaking to me in the months before when I was planning the exact same future for less... noble reasons than protecting my people." Jaina paused in the hall, turning to him, "It's by luck and your warchief's willingness to listen, even to an enemy, that this peace had any kind of chance. She would have gone to war to defend your people from extinction... I would have done so in the name of revenge and hatred."

She looked down the hall to where Sylvanas and Lor'themar were getting away from them, "And... I've discovered there were other things... Things that were taking her intentions and twisting them further than I think she would have gone on her own. I'm hoping to deal with them... Shortly." Jaina looked up again, not sure if she should be talking about this but… she wanted Baine to understand.

"Other things?" The big man glanced over. "There are rumours that Sylvanas's lieutenant  is... no longer in favour. Some consider that even more unbelievable than your marriage."

Jaina chewed her lip, "... Nathanos attempted to poison me. To turn me undead. If Sylvanas hadn't been there..."

"She saved you?" Baine sounded shocked.

"And nursed me back to health." Jaina looked up at him seriously.

Baine looked towards his Warchief thoughtfully. "Perhaps she does have a heart, then."

The human touched his arm, "And she's going to need your help Baine. She respects you. She needs more than me to give her options that aren't just cutting the problem at the root and damn the consequences."

He snorted softly. "I will take your word for it. And if the price of peace right now is having a Warchief I do not fully trust... so be it. At least she is not Garrosh."

"No,” Jaina said quietly. “She isn't. And so far? I'd say she's beating out Thrall."

"That is quite a claim,” Baine said, raising a large, shaggy brow. “Thrall united us all."

"And he abandoned us to Garrosh until he threatened Thrall’s new home," Jaina pointed out, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She started opening her mouth to say more but snapped her gob shut abruptly. That kind of talk wouldn't help. Grudges left behind even if they aren't forgiven, remember? 

"... I don't hate him." She said, a little calmer, "But you must understand that my feelings towards him have... soured. Considerably."

Baine rumbled. "I will not compare my pain to yours, but Garrosh cost me and mine much as well. I understand your bitterness. Thrall... lost his way."

Jaina nodded, "Let's make sure Sylvanas doesn't lose hers." She squeezed his arm and then headed down the hall again, after Sylvanas and Lor'themar.

Lor'themar kept throwing glances back at Jaina, with seeming increasing puzzlement. Then they passed into a dining room... hadn't Kael entertained her here once?

Probably... Or somewhere close enough to trigger her memory. But it didn't stop her like the reminders of Arthas had. Kael had been a friend… or occasional pest... Nothing more. One she lost all contact with and mostly was absent for his fall and defeat.

Probably for the best. She didn't need more broken men crowding her headspace.

What are you telling him? She whispered at Sylvanas, suspiciously.

Nothing, Sylvanas replied with a silent laugh.  I think he’s just baffled by my good humour.

They sat, Lor'themar offering the head of the table to Sylvanas, who took it, patting the chair on her right invitingly to Jaina. "Let's not stand on ceremony, we're all friends here."

Jaina took the chair. Only polite, "Thank you again for hosting us Lor'themar, I'll try not to make it a habit to just drop in."

The sin’dorei nodded to her. "I know that you have had your quarrels with the Horde, but for our part, you will always be welcome in Silvermoon. Past grievances must be put aside if we are to have a future."  He seemed to be picking his words carefully.

That surprised her a little. 

"Thank you." Jaina smiled faintly, "Business before pleasure though, if that's alright. Have you any suggestions about liaisons and when might be a good time to visit to meet with them here, and at Thunder Bluff respectively?"

She'd rather focus on the future for a while then think any more about the past..

The discussions went on for a while.  But both Lor'themar and Baine seemed enthusiastic in their own reserved ways.  The Tauren, for all their strength, were not a warlike people, and the Blood Elves had suffered much.  A point of real hope for peace was worth jumping on.

Throughout, Sylvanas watched and listened, and just seemed... relaxed.  When she excused herself to deal with a messenger, Lor'themar looked at Jaina.  

"What did you do? " he said plainly.  "I don't remember her being this relaxed even when she was still alive."

The mage blinked, "... Me? I... didn't do anything." Jaina glanced at the door that her wife had left through. Probably the step down from gearing up for war had calmed her. And removal of Nathanos…

She needed to see to him. Soon. There had been enough time. Possibly too much. Jaina would ask to see him tomorrow. For Sylvanas's sake if not her own.

Lor’themar shook his head. “We were not… close, before her death, but as my superior, I spent a lot of time with her. All good cheer and warmth in her died with her family, long before Arthas. She hasn’t been like this in nearly thirty years.

Baine looked thoughtful, but he said nothing for a time.  "Who can fathom our Warchief?  There are many forks in the road ahead.  At least now not all of them lead to suffering."

"I hope so." Jaina had sobered significantly, "... If this is just yet another stalling to an inevitable betrayal by one party or another... I don't know if I could handle it again."

The only question is who would survive the flood if she hit that point... Would she let any of them live in the kind of state that might leave her?

Lor'themar shook his head.  "My people need time to rebuild.  We have nothing to gain from conflict."

"As do mine," Baine said sadly.  "We have no old grudges or hatreds that we cling to.  But the Orcs... they have fought for so long that they do not know how to do much else.  I hope - and believe - that Saurfang's weariness can temper that bloodthirst.  And on your side... Greymane's desire for vengeance has caused conflict many times, but… perhaps Anduin can temper him."

"My side..." Jaina leaned forward over her wine goblet, looking into it, "Did you know that I was promised help from Greymane during the days before Theramore was wiped off the map? Do you know how many Gilneans showed up to defend us? None. Not one Worgen appeared to aid us."

Baine looked sorrowful.  "I regret that my people fought in that travesty of a battle."

Lor'themar shifted uncomfortably.  Perhaps remembering the crimes of the long exiled Thalen Songweaver.

"Regret will not undo the thousands of deaths or save those who were tortured by the Horde afterwards. It will not bring Kinndy or Pained back to life..." Her jaw tightened as she thought about them. Two women who, despite being so different, had started to grow a healing friendship between them. She wouldn't have been surprised if they'd eventually fallen in love. All that wiped away.  She could still feel the dust of the little gnome's body crumbling in her fingers.

Abruptly Jaina drank what was left of her wine, " Excuse me, I'd like to get a little fresh air." She set the cup down quietly and stood. This place wasn't so different from how she remembered. Wasn't there a balcony? Over there? Yes. Good.

They let her go.  Unsure of what to say.  Baine had warned her, but... both had ultimately been complicit in the tragedy.  What could they say?

The evening air had a hint of chill in it as she emerged.  A northern wind.  Lights were flickering across the city like little stars as lanterns, magical and otherwise, flared to life against the darkness.  A city that had come back from annihilation.

But Theramore wouldn't.  Not after that kind of destruction.

Garrosh really had got off too easily.

She'd blamed the Horde for Theramore.  Maybe she'd been right to.  After all, they'd all contributed, all played their part...

...except Sylvanas and her Forsaken.

Even Lor'Themar had participated distantly from what she understood - or at least done nothing to stop Garrosh’s pet Sunreavers. But no Forsaken had been spotted. No aid from the Banshee Queen.

And they call her less honourable.

Jaina sneered, wrapping her arms around herself as she leaned against the railing. Sylvanas had been alarmingly logical, agreeable, blunt and.... even kind. But... She'd used the plague on Gilneas. Didn't that mean anything? Didn't that make Jaina as hateful?

Considering Greymane's reckless warmongering and his untrustworthiness to anyone but Varian... She wished she could care more. The Worgen didn't deserve her distrust just for having a useless king.

The Forsaken had certainly never been hesitant about using the Blight, and nor had Sylvanas, by all accounts.

But was that so out of character?  They'd been born out of desperation and madness.  An undead army freed of its shackles, and led by a warrior who, by all accounts, was a ruthless pragmatist even in life.  Why wouldn't they use such a deadly weapon to ensure victory?

Sylvanas had never indicated particular hatred for the Gilneans.  She was bitter towards Greymane for destroying her ability to make more Val'kyr, and she seemed to enjoy goading the old man... but she seemed to view their history as just... war.  Nothing special.  Nothing personal .  By all accounts, she hadn't even intended to kill Greymane's son, the man had just got in the way of her shot.

Jaina would believe it. Sylvanas had no need to lie when she'd said she'd been aiming for the king instead.

What would Jaina do when confronted with Saurfang? The man who should have stopped Garrosh? The one who was closest?

She didn't know. Sylvanas had said he wanted to die for some form of honour. She gripped the railing, frost creeping across the beautifully carved stone. Maybe I'll see him off to his warriors death.

Saurfang seemed... controversial.  Baine spoke of him with respect, Sylvanas poured scorn on the mere mention of him.  Who knew what the ordinary Horde folk were saying?  The orcs?

It was easy to see how an old warrior, battle-hardened and experienced, pulling them away from the rampant aggression of Garrosh, could attract a following.

But why did Sylvanas consider him a joke?  Just his apparent lack of action?

Jaina had only ever seen him. She'd barely ever heard him speak... That alone said quite a lot to her, considering his position. She'd watched Varian let the orc pass to get to his son's body. To grieve... But that had not given him enough reasons to stop Garrosh's insanity when he turned on Theramore. Why was she surprised? The times that she had spent in Horde territory before it all happened she had never seen him and Thrall had said he had refused to meet her.

Jaina forced herself to relax, to take a deep breath and calm herself as much as possible, wrapping her arms around herself again...

It was easy to hum to clear her head, look up at the shimmering stars and think about nothing but the familiar melody...

Cool hands settled on her shoulders.  "Hello, Jaina," Sylvanas murmured in her ear.  "Problems? Your thoughts are troubled."

Jaina started, straightening up, "Problems? No... I just needed some fresh air." It was easy to relax a little better as she leaned back slightly into the woman. Still nervous about public displays but... feeling Sylvanas's solidity was grounding. And besides, there was nobody here to watch.

The arms lowered, wrapped around Jaina's stomach, held her close. Strange how this solid, cool embrace had become so comforting already.  "Baine said that Theramore came up.  I didn't really need to ask more than that."

Jaina put her hands over Sylvanas's, "I’d apologise, but you agreed to be saddled with me, knowing my history."

"I did."  Sylvanas shook her head.  "I chose to accept a chance for peace, and figured I could tolerate the woman it came with.  As it turns out, I have yet to regret binding myself to you."

Jaina flushed, heart doing a little nervous stutter, "You say that now... Just wait until we completely disagree on something."

Sylvanas laughed softly.  "We're both quite resilient.  I think we'll manage."  She settled her chin on Jaina's shoulder.  "Was it just Theramore?  Or is something else bothering you?"

"... Theramore puts a lot of things into perspective." Jaina sighed quietly, "Half the Alliance didn't even show to help save it, and everyone but you followed Garrosh's orders. The worst I can accuse you of is not putting him down before it happened."

The undead elf shook her head.  "Garrosh kept me and mine very firmly under his thumb the moment he took command of the Horde.  If it were up to him, the Forsaken would have been wiped out.  As it was, he tried to use us as cannon fodder.  It was all I could do to ensure that we fought our wars our way.  Did you know that I attacked Gilneas on his orders?"

"... Did you use the blight on his orders?" She said after a moment.

"He unilaterally banned the use of it.” Sylvanas gave a dark chuckle. “Typically I ignored that order wherever I could get away with it, because I knew why he gave the order; he wanted me to burn my troops and weaken the Forsaken.  It wasn't out of care for the enemy."

"That really is your guiding light, isn't it?" Jaina hummed, "Everything comes down to saving the lives of your people. I'm not sure why I thought that anything might be different in this case."

She turned in Sylvanas's arms resting her hands on the elf's shoulders and nuzzling closer to her neck, urge to be closer overriding her squeamishness about public displays. They were alone out here, right? So what did it matter...

I failed at that duty enough in the past… Sylvanas thought soberly. Slowly tightened her grip around Jaina.  Pressed a kiss on her forehead. Strange how comforting this feels.

Jaina sighed, gripping Sylvanas's shirt tighter. It's only strange if you stop to think about it.   She pulled back a little, looking up at her wife, "Maybe together we won't fail again."

Sylvanas was quiet for a moment.

"If I ever have to choose between the Forsaken and anyone else... you know who I'll choose," she said simply.

"I want a world where you won't have to choose." The mage straightened Sylvanas's collar, pulling back slightly.

"We don't always get what we want," Sylvanas said darkly.  Brushed her cheek.  "But we can hope."

Jaina leaned into Sylvanas's touch slightly, "I'd like to hope again. One day."

The Dark Lady smiled softly.  Red eyes glowing in the dark, like the lanterns below.  "Come.  They're serving wispcakes, and I imagine you haven't had those for a long time."

"Wispcakes?" Jaina smiled faintly, "You think my good mood can be bribed with sweets?" I can absolutely be bribed with sweets. She didn't even try to conceal that thought.

"I knew it."  Sylvanas pulled away, offered her hand delicately to lead her back inside.

The mage took it, a little hesitantly considering she'd be walking back inside in full view… but she shook it off. It wasn't anything deeply intimate. Even in a political alliance, there were certain expectations of behaviour, right?  This wouldn’t signify anything.  It was fine.

"Don't rely on it to get you out of trouble." She warned, half jokingly.

"I'm sure I can find some other ways of quenching your fury," the Forsaken murmured.

The two men still at the table watched as the pair re-entered, the tantalising scent of elven delicacies ahead of them.

Jaina managed to keep her face neutral but... Honestly she wasn't sure the faint blush was kept off her cheeks. She couldn't tell if they'd heard Sylvanas's comment.

"Behave, Windrunner." She grumbled.

"Watch your tone in speaking to the Warchief," Sylvanas teased.

Baine's jaw almost dropped.  Clearly unused to Sylvanas being playful.

"I'll take whatever tone I like with my wife, Windrunner. " Jaina retook her seat, "If the Warchief would stop me from doing that then I'll be bringing a formal complaint against her."

"How cold, my darling, and I thought I was the one with the chill of the grave in their veins.  Perhaps your ice is even colder than that.  Strange to consider that I apparently have the duty of warming you up."

Jaina scowled at her, "In public? Really ?"

Sylvanas just laughed, settled in at her chair in that familiar cat-like sprawl.  "You know how much I enjoy winding people up, Jaina.  But I will let you eat in peace."

"Are you sure?" Jaina raised an eyebrow, but the draw of the wispcakes was enough to distract her.

Lor'themar was looking rather red, and silently nudged the plate towards her.  Just as fluffy and light as the name and memory implied.  Elven baking at its finest.

The mage took one with a much quieter, "Thank you." Why was he red? Could he tell? Tell what? Who knew! Probably guessing at the fact that they'd definitely been more than just dutiful in their 'marital obligations'. That would be embarrassing on its own but of all the things he could guess at it was the safer option. HE OBVIOUSLY KNEW SOMETHING WAS GOING ON.

Jaina vainly attempted to ignore everyone's existence and eat her wispcake with a shred of remaining dignity, while Sylvanas looked at her smugly and Lor’themar apparently wished he was anywhere but here.

Baine gave a rumble of laughter suddenly.  "It's good to see that even under the circumstances of your marriage... you have still formed a bond and are acting like young mates everywhere."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sylvanas drawled.

Jaina nearly choked on her pastry, "You do realise this is not- That's hardly appropriate for-.... Being friendly and sarcastic doesn't mean anything like what you're thinking!" She declared. Vehemently.

Much too vehemently.

Baine was still chuckling, unperturbed.

"Even in politics, it is wise to find common ground and affection with one's partner," Lor'themar carefully volunteered.  Sylvanas still had a cat-with-the-cream grin.

I don't even need to say anything, this writes itself, the Banshee Queen thought.

I hate you. Jaina growled back.

"Friendship, yes. But... Oh never mind." Jaina sat back in her chair, "Thank you for your hospitality, Lor'themar."

No you doooon't, Sylvanas cooed in her head.

"You are welcome, Lady Proudmoore," Lor'themar, evidently relieved to change the subject.  "As I said, Silvermoon is always open to you."

"As is Thunder Bluff.  It is only fair that you should visit my home again someday," Baine rumbled.

"I'll have to to come meet your liaison." Jaina managed to pull herself back to neutrality, "How about in two days? That should give me enough time to finish up here and a portal to Kalimdor is a little more draining... Would it be alright if I stayed the night?"

... Does my ice bother you Sylvanas?

"Of course," Baine said.  "I will host you myself."

Not at all.  Why? Sylvanas replied.

Because I'm going to show you just how cold I am when we get back home, Jaina thought calmly.

"Thank you, Baine." Outwardly, her smile was pleasant, "I'm looking forward to it. I always found Thunder Bluff to be a very calming place to visit with your father."

Should I be worried? Sylvanas queried. The bitch was still smirking.

"I remember," Baine said soberly.  "It was a simpler time.  Perhaps it will be so again."

Jaina nodded, touching his arm lightly, "And Lor'Themar... Is tomorrow too soon to sort out the liaison from Silvermoon?"

"I'll have a few candidates ready for you, no problem,” Lor’themar assured.

The mage smiled, continuing to ignore her wife's question as she stood up. Sylvanas had given her the silent treatment enough times, see how she liked receiving it.  "Well, with that, gentlemen, I think we'll take our leave. After my trip to Stormwind I'm feeling a little tired. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon."

Both rose.  Lor'themar giving a polite bow, Baine holding out a hand to shake but with a posture indicating that a bear hug like the old days wouldn't be entirely unexpected or unwelcome.  Sylvanas lazily got to her feet as well.

Jaina didn't resist it. As much for his sake as for hers, hugging him tightly around the chest, as much as she could reach.. She had to let go of these.... grudges. If she didn't then this would never work.  And there was something nice about the tauren’s embrace.

She pulled away, giving each man a smile in turn, "Until then." She opened a portal... But didn't wait for Sylvanas, instead stepping through to the banshee-queens bedroom without even a glance at her.

She heard Sylvanas exchange a few words, and then stepped through as well.  The banshee glanced around, smiled sweetly.  "Tired, Jaina?  Straight to bed for you?"

Jaina grabbed Sylvanas just as the portal closed, forcing her back against the wall hard and pinning her there with her own body, "You are infuriating , did you know that?"

She didn't care about a verbal answer, she was already kissing the elf's cold lips demandingly.

Sylvanas squirmed a little, kissed back welcomingly, settling her hands on Jaina's sides.  I've been told as much, yes.  It's a way to pass the time.

Jaina’s teeth caught Sylvanas's lower lip briefly. I can think of a much better one. Her hands were already pulling apart the more ceremonial garb Sylvanas wore.

Sylvanas shivered.  There were some straps and fastenings, but... none that proved much obstacle, and cool grey flesh was soon visible.  "Do tell..." she breathed, running a tongue over her lip.

She made sure Sylvanas was all but naked except for her boots which... If she was honest she just didn't have time to bother removing. 

"You said you were going to warm me up, didn't you?" Jaina grinned faintly, her mouth trailing down Sylvanas's neck before she aggressively wrapped her lips around where a pulse had once been, suckling at the cold flesh hard and intently. Jaina wanted to see her try and walk around covered in bruises... Bite marks... She was going to cover the banshee in them.

Her fingers gripped Sylvanas's hips bruisingly tight before she reached upwards, cupping her breasts and pinching at the nipples.

The banshee groaned softly, squirming a little and arching against the harsh attention.  A cute little dark, almost black mark was on her neck now.  Success!

I did promise that… the elf agreed.

"You can tell me to stop." Jaina said suddenly, her actions pausing, looking up searchingly towards Sylvanas's face, "If you ever tell me to stop... I will. Whatever the reason."

Sylvanas gazed down at her, settling.  Nodded.  I believe you.

It was... a little thing.  But given what she'd said when she opened up... it mattered.

The next kiss was softer, brief, just a confirmation through affection really before Jaina’s fingers trailed down and she rather aggressively pressed them between Sylvanas's lips, less teasing her clit and more pinching it.

Another soft moan emerged from Sylvanas's throat, and she quivered a little.  Those dead nerves did appreciate a little roughness... but still, Jaina was pushing her more than usual, and she seemed to be enjoying it.  Feeling warmer? she teased.

"Oh, just you wait... I'll show you exactly what you can warm up..." Jaina bit at Sylvanas's shoulder roughly before she finally backing up a little, starting to pull free of her own clothes, another slow, angry bruise forming there.

Sylvanas slid back against the wall, kicking off her boots and gazing at Jaina hungrily.  Livid marks here and there, her thighs stained, her dead body doing its utmost to remember how this all worked. Even the various scars over her flesh, including the pale mark of Frostmourne on her chest, just adding to the aesthetic.

A corpse should not look that fucking sexy.

"I did wonder what it was you kept almost suggesting before..." she breathed.  "Am I about to find out?"

"In detail." Jaina finally kicked off her trousers, not bothering with her boots. Besides... She'd need the extra height.

She'd tried it twice already just to be sure she could work... That it wouldn't fall apart or hurt. It wasn't pleasant to begin with, but a little cold never really hurt her, and a melty surface was good lubricant.

The real struggle was settling with the way it clung to her clit.

The mage pressed both hands between her own legs, wincing with a shiver as the ice spread up and into her, the mixture of ice and arcane clinging to her in a way that gravity didn't approve of. Then, from the front, as she drew her hands away, the magiced strapon formed. Strapless really but... Well she'd made this spell up, it didn't really have a name yet besides 'too much time on my hands, a resistance to cold and a libido to put a sailor to shame'.

"Turn around,” she purred, triumphant.

Sylvanas's eyes widened.  That's... both impressive and much scarier than mine...

But the elf turned around, pressing her hands against the wall, spreading her feet and bending over a little.  "Like this?"

Jaina gripped her hips briefly, leaning in behind, nipping at a long ear, "Just like that." She was... actually extremely excited to try this. It worked well in theory but did it actually give adequate stimulation in practice? The arcane mitigated the chill so as not to cause real damage, but how would it function under stress?

It was all the best parts of sex and testing a theoretical spell all rolled into one!

Her hands trailed down to the elf's ass, mauling the flesh there as Jaina's mouth started leaving marks down her back. One hand spread her while the other felt between them to guide the tip of the icey cock into place against Sylvanas's entrance. She couldn't feel it really, only the pressure it applied to her own clit. Even this little bit of resistance was enough to make her shiver in anticipation.

Sylvanas shivered too.  "Fuck... you're... that even feels cold to me... how can you stand it?”  Still, she pushed back a little, teasing herself against the tip.  I'll do my best to warm it up... but I know what I'm shopping for next time I'm in Orgrimmar...

"It's a mixture of arcane and ice and... I'll explain later if you really want to know the details." Jaina pressed forward and hissed as the resistance of sinking into Sylvanas pressed on her even harder. Do I even want to know...? she pondered at the Orgrimmar comment.

I just feel like...   Sylvanas’s thoughts stalled for a moment as the ice dildo slid into her.  ...like... I need something... "Ohhhh fuck..."  ...more... aggressive than... elven craftsmanship...

"Did you say 'more'? As you wish." The mage pressed in harsher until she was spooned behind Sylvanas completely, ice buried deep in her as she could be. She couldn't help grinning like an idiot, nipping and kissing at her shoulder muscles.

"Don't worry, I'll give you more." Jaina pulled her hips back, slow at first, but with a soft gasp of need she couldn't help herself from jerking back in.

Yep. Working as intended. Holy fuck... Better than intended. Every pull and push pressed into or tugged on her own clit.

The only response that Sylvanas could make was a strangled moan as Jaina began to move.

There was definitely a kick to having the mighty Banshee Queen, warchief of the Horde and one of the most feared people on Azeroth, bent over and whining in need and pleasure below her.

Especially the way she convulsively humped back as Jaina thrust in again.

Jaina’s hand tangled into Sylvanas's dulled hair, the other gripping her hip. She wasn't interested in waiting. Sylvanas would tell her if it was too much right? So she started a much more brutal pace then she usually would, enjoying the thuds as they met with each thrust almost as much as the aggressive way her end of the magicked toy fucked into her and slid against her clit. It was so good she couldn't be as quiet as she usually was as she fucked her wife.

I hope you remember this the next time you decide you want to tease me in public, she thought, soft groans escaping her throat.

"Y-yes!  I will!  I'll remember!" Sylvanas moaned.   Very much in Jaina's control, her body the plaything of the mage, not even able to move her head much.  "I'll... remember... fuck, don't stop... and I'll do it again, you bitch! "  She burst into mischievous laughter, interrupted by a squeal as Jaina thrust in again.

"You cheeky slut ." Jaina suddenly yanked out of Sylvanas, grabbing her shoulder and forcing her to turn around, slamming her into the wall again immediately. Her hands lifted the elf's knees, wrapping them around her waist while Jaina's teeth angrily and demandingly found her blue skin, leaving telling marks as the woman was lifted into the air, against the wall…

"I'm not the one who came up with an arcane ice cock," Sylvanas pointed out, her own hands grasping onto Jaina’s shoulders as she braced herself.

Jaina didn’t respond to the comment.  She just abruptly fucked into again, face to face now, letting her watch Windrunner's breasts bounce with every heated, angry, thrust. Enjoying the view - and the fact that the banshee’s smart mouth was once again busy making sounds of pleasure.  Sylvanas’s neck arching offeringly as she was bitten.

Strapons always lacked a little something because they didn't give any feed-back. But this... This was a very strange slice of heaven.

I shouldn't be looking forward to you pissing me off or embarrassing me but this feels so good... So good… Jaina thought.

She could feel the knot of her orgasm building inside her.

If you really… wanted me to stop… you wouldn’t be… rewarding me… Sylvanas’s thoughts were disjointed, staccato.  Too much focus on being fucked.  Cold water was trickling down her thighs, diluting her own sluggish juices, and she seemed like she was building up to her own climax, judging by the mess of pleasured thoughts in her mind.  So close.  So needy.

That's it... That's right... Jaina panted outwardly even as she rocked them violently towards completion, her teeth wrapping around the first bruise to deepen it. The least you can do is cum with me, love.

The elf clutched on, her fingers curling into claws and raking over Jaina's back.  Her eyes rolling back as she screamed in climax, quivering and convulsing in Jaina's grasp, toes curling.

Jaina was barely half a step behind her, her thrusts becoming erratic as her muscles rebelled against continuing in favour of just flat out spasming... But finally as her orgasm's crashing started to lessen she let her head fall onto Sylvanas' shoulder, trying to catch her breath as her lower half twitched.

Slowly the mage sank to the floor with a lap full of elf, unable to hold them up any more as she gasped for air.

Sylvanas wrapped her legs around Jaina tightly, staying bound together at the hip.  Pressing kisses numbly along Jaina's neck.  Ok... now... I'm ready for bed...

Jaina nodded a little weakly, "I might... have to crawl. That was a lot more work than I anticipated."

Maybe portals had made her lazy...

"Are you alright?" She questioned seriously between her puffing.

"That was... quite intense," Sylvanas purred.  Nuzzling a little.  It was a strange contrast, how calm her voice sounded with how much her body twitched.  Not needing to breathe could lead to strange contrasts.  "I'm… almost alive.  You?"

The mage nodded, waving a hand to banish the ice, it's sudden absence making her groan, "Yeah... Definitely warm now."

Sylvanas laughed softly.  Nuzzled her again.  "Now you know how I feel whenever I get to fuck you.  All that delicious living heat."  She squirmed a little at the sudden removal of the thing penetrating her, and shifted to get comfier.

Jaina leaned against her, "I knew it. You only agreed to it because you wanted my body heat. You're like a lizard." She chuckled softly.

"You've found me out," her wife said with a grin.  "All of your delicious heat.  Especially the heat inside you."

Jaina flushed, "That is not a compliment you know... Actually considering the fact that you're undead I'm going to start worrying about you eating me. And not in the fun way."

Sylvanas wrapped a hand around her neck, pulled her in for a slow, affectionate kiss.  That'd be a terrible waste.

Jaina couldn't really fight it off, kissing her softly in return. That, I suppose, I'll take as a compliment.

The banshee slowly pulled away, climbed to her feet and scooped Jaina into her arms, padding over to the bed.  "You should."

She called me ‘love’ back there… Sylvanas thought in passing.

Jaina clung on, having to stifle a yawn, as she was carried. She'd said love?

Oh.

"It's... Love is just... A term of endearment. In Kul Tiras,” the human explained. “You'd call your wife love, you’d call your child love... I once heard a man call his horse love. That was a little odd though, I'll be honest."

Just... A rational explanation. No worries.

She just wouldn't think about the fact that she stopped using it decades ago and not even motherly affection for Anduin brought it out of her.

"Ah."  Sylvanas pulled the covers back, tucked them both in.  Cuddled up comfortably.  "So Silvermoon tomorrow... Kalimdor the day after... you might as well stop in at a few places over there, not just Thunder Bluff.  Seems like we'll finally be parted for a while."

"Indeed." The mage couldn't say she was looking forward to it. She was sure she'd be clamouring for her own space by this point, begging to get free from the oppressive presence of the Banshee Queen.

She'd thought wrong.

"I shouldn't go between the continents too much on my own power. It's not the easiest thing, even for me."

"Quite." Sylvanas paused.  "...we could both travel over there.  Take the Windrunner across the sea.  It'd be slower, but... we could make a real excursion of it.  And it might be worth it for me to visit the territories over there. Perhaps visit Pandaria on the way back or something, not that they’ve had any real trouble in years."

"Do you want to?" Jaina opened her eyes briefly.

"A day will give me a chance to wrap things up here.  And my power base and support has always been shakier in Kalimdor than Lordaeron." Sylvanas paused.  "And yes, I'd love to.  Also it occurs to me that you have your own ship.  Although you might prefer to be a passenger for a journey that long."

She nodded, "I'm happy to take the Windrunner ." She closed her eyes again, "Tomorrow... I want to meet with Nathanos."

Sylvanas paused.  "As you wish.  You can meet the Naga prisoner too, if you like."

Jaina nodded, "I guess I'm not sleeping in."

"I'll make sure you wake up."  I swear that's not as suggestive as it sounds.

It made Jaina chuckle tiredly, "It was definitely suggestive."

Sylvanas closed her eyes.  I might be healing for a little while after that.  Not that I'm complaining.

Jaina cuddled closer. Goodnight, love.

Goodnight, Jaina.

Chapter Text

Jaina awoke, as usual these days, in darkness.  The gently glowing green lights that illuminated Undercity never changed, never altered to reflect the time or weather.

Sylvanas was still dozing, nuzzled into her.  Almost feeling alive, warmed by Jaina's own body heat, only her stillness putting the lie to that.

She yawned faintly, snuggling in a little bit more. Just for a few minutes... Only to bask in the comfort of it. Gently she kissed Sylvanas's face a few times in a bid to wake her slowly.

The undead elf eventually stirred, opened her eyes.  "Good morning," she hummed softly.  "Sleep well?"

There was always an expression on Sylvanas's face when she woke up.  Like she hadn't been expecting Jaina to still be there when she woke up. A kind of pleased surprise and muted happiness.

"Mmm. Nice and warm." Jaina smiled faintly, "... Still sore?" She peered curiously below the covers to check and see if she was still bruised.

Sylvanas shrugged.  "Not really."  The bruises were still there, especially the one on her neck.

The mage traced it with a finger, "I'm not sure if I'm glad or disappointed..."

"You want me to feel that I've been marked?" Sylvanas chuckled lazily.  "Not just see it in a mirror?  Very orcish, how long did you spend around Thrall in the old days?"

Jaina snorted, "More like properly punished for how much trouble you gave me last night." But her slight blush spoke differently, "... I might have had one of my most memorable lesbian experiences with an orc."

"Oh?"  Sylvanas propped herself up on an arm.  "Now I'm intrigued."

She snorted, "It was when some in Orgrimmar were just starting to warm up to my visits. I was invited to a festival, got challenged to a drinking game... I almost drunk her under the table. We spent the day after nursing our hangovers together. She opened my eyes to enjoying being more aggressive in general."

The elf pondered this, nodded.  "Ah.  Happier days all round.  Or so I've heard."  She shook her head.  "Less so for me and mine, of course."

"I'm sorry." Jaina gently kissed the bruise on Sylvanas's neck... And part of her suddenly wanted to repay in kind what Sylvanas had done to her yesterday... But maybe another time. They shouldn't lag too much. She sat up slowly, stretching comfortably.

The warchief rose, tugging Jaina into a proper kiss, then pulled away to begin buckling on her armour.  "So," she said grimly.  "The dungeons.  Do you want breakfast first?  Or straight to business?"  Neither of them were keen on what that meant, but… it had to be done.

"Considering these meetings are likely to turn my stomach, I'll wait to eat until later..." The mage pulled herself into proper clothes. She was healed enough that her usual light corset and coat would cover her enough.

Sylvanas finished her last buckle.  It didn't really cover the bruise on her neck, but she didn't seem bothered.  "Let's go.  The spy or the traitor?"

There was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice.

"Traitor first." Jaina wanted to get him out of the way, "... Have you spoken to him at all yet?"

"Once.  I told him to rot in a cell for a while and think on his mistakes." Sylvanas set off, leading them down, down, down.  Past abominations, rangers, elites and banshees.  All her best and most trusted soldiers.  She took her prison seriously.

Which made sense.  After all, the Forsaken weren't well known for taking prisoners.  So if they did... whoever it was must be important.

Jaina followed in silence. Should she ask to speak to him alone? She might be more neutral... But how many times had she been left out when those who had betrayed her were put on trial or dealt with?

Many.

No, they'd do this together.

It seemed like only two cells were currently occupied.  The ranger on guard silently opened up Nathanos's cell, gestured inside to where the man himself was chained up.

The mage stepped inside the cell, looking him over. He was undead, he couldn't exactly starve or die of thirst... But being locked in a cell for a week was likely not a fun experience.

"Nathanos Blightcaller."

"Jaina Proudmoore," He replied flatly.  He looked a little more sunken than before, the flesh a little more emaciated, his armour stripped from him and left in little more than rags.  But his tone was still arrogant and self-assured.  "And my Lady Sylvanas.  To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"An explanation." The human said coldly, "I'm owed one for your attempt on my life, and Sylvanas is owed one for your betrayal."

"I have only ever acted with the best interests of Lady Windrunner at heart."  Nathanos’s voice was cold. Flat. A match for his mistress.

"That implies a neutrality you never had, Nathanos," Sylvanas growled.  "You were meant to watch Varimathras while I was in Northrend.  You encouraged my plans for war against the Alliance.  You even outright disagreed with me about Theramore."

Jaina looked at Sylvanas sharply, "Disagreed with you? He thought you should have helped Garrosh?"

"He believed that it would make a good first strike," Sylvanas grunted.  "We didn't know about the mana bomb, but we guessed Garrosh had some trick or weapon.  Nathanos said that if it worked once... it could be used again on Stormwind."

"No, it couldn't. Not without the focusing lens." Jaina turned, a cold kind of fury in her now, "You sound less like a lieutenant loyal to his commander and more like a warmongering wolf I know!"

"I didn't know that at the time," Nathanos said calmly.  "And as I recall, Lady Sylvanas... your main interest in opposing Garrosh and fermenting rebellion in the Horde against him alongside Vol'jin was to get rid of a dangerous enemy, not sympathy for the plight of the living."  Reasonable.  Even-toned.  No anger or hatred. The voice of the trusted advisor.

Sylvanas glowered. Why does he sound so reasonable? I know he’s wrong. Why do I still want to listen to him?

If Jaina had been a younger woman, if she hadn’t taken the time to know Sylvanas in these weeks, if they didn’t have the rites binding them together tighter than they were ever intended to do… This ‘revelation’ could have put a wedge between her and Sylvanas. It could have made Jaina second guess her intentions and let the bitterness of the past rise.

Light burst into Jaina’s eyes as she summoned her ice. Not a lance, instead spikes sprung from the floor, the ceiling, the walls, razor points growing towards the chained prisoner, "Don't open your mouth in an attempt to sow mistrust between us, traitor, it will not work. Of course she was more focused on Garrosh being her enemy. Sylvanas's main goal has always been the safety of her people. Now I want an answer as to why yours seems to have been to put them in harm's way."

"The Forsaken -" he started.

"The Forsaken are mine, Nathanos," Sylvanas interrupted icily.  "And you've always treated them like dirt.  You were arrogant in life, but you weren't rude or cruel.  Death changed us all, but you... what happened to you?"

"You know what happened to me,” Nathanos replied, a hint of irritation seeping into his tone. “I was slain by that monster abomination not so far from here, and I was little more than a slavering zombie when you found me and broke me free of the Lich King.  If I seem different, consider it merely the mark of trauma spent as such a pathetic imitation of my former self. Along with the changes that have come from standing by your side, Lady Sylvanas. You know that I am loyal to you. I could never be anything but your loyal servant. I overstepped the line, but it will not happen again. Once you have released me, I will ensure that I take greater care with my actions, you have my word.”

Sylvanas faltered slightly.  Like she was falling for his words again. She'd once cared about this man.  Back when they were both alive.  Now... now Nathanos was using that to twist her round his thumb. With a skill that suggested… maybe not for the first time.

Jaina tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Even the dead are not slaves to their trauma," she snapped, the ice gaining pace, razor edges threatening to slice him to pieces on all sides now, forcing him into a tense position to avoid its tender mercies, "You do not have to be at peace to look towards the future. The Gathering showed that of the Forsaken. Sylvanas shows that to me every day. You are everything I was afraid the Forsaken were, irrevocably touched by the Lich King. Made monsters against your will, but remaining monsters by your own choice."

She stared down at him in barely restrained anger... Less for his warmongering and snake’s tongue and more for the effect he was having on Sylvanas. This man was poison. Poison that Sylvanas had been swallowing for years. "And if none of that were true? I would cut you down for trying to manipulate and betray Sylvanas... My wife , alone."

Jaina was no longer interested in hearing him speak, a long spike pressed under Nathanos' chin threateningly, ready to end this permanently.

For the first time, that icy, superior calm cracked. Nathanos’s eyes flicked to Sylvanas. "My Queen… Sylvanas... please, I've never acted against y-"

Sylvanas's eyes flashed.  "You attempted to murder Jaina Proudmoore.  Without my authority and against my orders.  You made an assumption, and you showed your true colours.  Tell me, Nathanos, did I actually free you?  Or is the Lich King still in your skull?  Who owns you?  Because you're not the man who was willing to sacrifice your own ambitions and home in order to salvage my career."

Jaina raised her hand, "Tell her, Blightcaller, these will likely be your last words."

Nathanos shook his head as much as the ice allowed, an earnestness in his eyes,  "You own me… my love. You always have. I gave up everything for you, as you said. Whether living or dead, I have always been by your side. Protecting you, enforcing your will. You accuse me of betrayal, but… I’m not the one who has changed. Lost her way."

“Lost my way?” Sylvanas demanded. A shiver crawling down her spine. “You advised me to go to the Gathering! You wanted peace as well! You’ve never once spoken out against this?”

“Neither of us expected it to go anywhere,” Nathanos replied. “And it’s always how we’ve operated. Watch and wait. Take opportunities and use them to eradicate our enemies. If Proudmoore had not been there… the Menethil girl would be dead, a threat to your rule would be gone, and the Alliance would have proven their treacherous nature. Your plans for Darnassus would have been unstoppable. From the start…” He paused, glancing at Jaina, but with seemingly little choice, he continued. “From the start, your only interest was the eradication of anything that could threaten us or Silvermoon. Whether human or orc, living or dead. You were swift, decisive, vicious. Now you’ve become distracted. Put us all at risk.”

It was the same rhetoric Jaina had heard from Genn and Alleria. But where they spoke from rage and hate, Nathanos was just… matter of fact. He believed it, but… it wasn’t the real reason for all this.

“So you’re not just a warmonger, you’re a fool,” she snarled. The urge to just end this, to kill him and remove his poisonous influence for good, was strong. But… somehow, she knew Sylvanas would not forgive that. This had to be seen through to the end. “Your invasion plans were scrapped, the documents signed, your forces standing down, and then you chose to try and assassinate me? With no guarantee that I’d obey even if you did bring me back? Your own mistress should be proof that a strong will can break any control.”

Nathanos gave her a very ugly look, focusing on her for the first time. “You underestimate us. And even simply removing you would have been an incalculable victory.”

The penny dropped.

“Me,” Jaina said in disbelief. “This wasn’t about the Horde, or the Alliance, or the Forsaken. This was about me.”

Sylvanas stared for a moment. Confusion in her mind… which suddenly settled into clarity. And a feeling like a fuse had just been lit.

“You were jealous .” The elf’s jaw tightened. “You realised that if I got married… you would no longer be the only one who had my attention.”

“I sensed your mood,” Nathanos replied. “You were uncertain, lost. Every time you’ve needed guidance in the past, I’ve been there to fix it for you. Proudmoore was weakening you.”

Jaina wanted to speak up, but Sylvanas beat her to it. “That’s it, isn’t it? You realised that I was starting to like her, and you couldn’t stand it! That she would share a home, a bedchamber with me! Something I always denied you! I will never love you that way, Nathanos!”

The spark of fury in his eyes was unmistakable. Jaina felt a surge of revulsion. His declaration of loyalty from the start, his inseparability from Sylvanas, and now his attempt to remove a rival… it was insidious, subtle rather than brute force and violent, but she was reminded of Arthas. Of what he had done to her wife.

Sylvanas glanced over at her. Sensing the thoughts. For a moment, she wanted to defend him. To deny it. His feelings for her were no secret, but… it had never come between them. He was her bedrock, her right hand.

But as she looked back to him, the urge died.

Later, she would claim that it was punishment for the assassination attempt. That it was in the name of peace. She would spend long hours staring into nothingness, trying to sort out her feelings and memories.

But the truth was, as her hands blurred to pull an arrow from her quiver, aimed, and sent the barbed shaft through his skull… the only thing she felt was hate and fury.

The forsaken man slumped.  Truly dead.

Jaina looked down at him, silent for a moment, before she turned for the door, "There's another prisoner to see to."

Sylvanas took a breath, opened her eyes.  Once again the Dark Queen of the Forsaken. Nodded, stalked from the cell.  "Have the mess cleaned up and open the next cell," she instructed the ranger.  The other elf saluted and obeyed, making no comment. If she had thoughts about what she’d seen or heard… she kept them to herself.

The smell of fresh blood hit Jaina's nostrils as they entered the next cell, in contrast to the ever-present scent of earth and death.  Coiled up as best she could, forced upright by the chains binding her four arms to the ceiling and walls, was a female naga.  She'd clearly been beaten, burned and poisoned, and she'd been stripped naked, showing every abuse of her scales and flesh.  Still, she raised her head with a mocking smile in greeting.  "Here to play again, surface dwellers?"

"I'm only here to learn what magic you learned to conceal yourself," Jaina said coldly... Though there had been a flinch at seeing how abused she was. Only internally, only barely loud enough for Sylvanas to hear.

Sylvanas didn’t react, just waiting by the cell door.  Folding her arms to watch. Making no comment. Just… staring intently at the snake-woman. Purging all that had just happened from her mind. This was the important thing. A threat to her people and the Horde. A mystery to solve. It was simple, and she didn’t have to feel anything to deal with it.

"Aww, you brought a living friend this time?" the naga cooed to Sylvanas, the strange resonant voice common to all naga doing strange things to Jaina's backbrain.  "Go ahead, little mage, analyse me.  I could use some entertainment, my hosts have been ungracious."

"Gladly." Jaina wasn't in the mood to play. She raised a hand and power snapped out, surrounding the naga. She had to forgo ice and rely on arcane for this.

The creature writhed, trying to use her own magic to fend off the assault, but with minimal success.  Too weak, and Jaina... Jaina was just too strong.

But the strange thing was... this naga had a taste of something other than the arcane in her.  A different kind of magic in her veins, one currently occupied with battling the forsaken toxins in her blood.

Jaina’s eyes narrowed, "And just what is that?" Her eyes burst with light, trying to narrow in on the strange source of magic.

The naga writhed in pain.  "You... will never... taste our... true power, Proudmoore!  Not until... Azshara calls for you!"

The closest that she could ever recall to feeling something like this was when she'd been studying the Worgen, after the fall of Gilneas... but this was deeper.  Not just a curse.  A twisted form of nature magic, but... different even from that.  Unfamiliar.

Wet and salty and… something that spoke to her backbrain of rustling in the dark.

Jaina bore her teeth and lost all interest in the snake witch's wellbeing, "Your serpent queen holds no power here, naga. Now give me what I want to know!" Her gauntleted hand grasped the creature's head, thumb and pinky gripping her temples as she squeezed, physically and magically around the creature.

The naga gave a thin scream of pain, blood streaming from her eyes and gills as the magic broke her resistance.  Then her flesh warped, two of the chains falling limp, until a human woman had replaced the naga.

Not a glamour.

Shapeshifting.

The naga had learned to shapeshift into people.

She wrenched her hand away, the taste of sea-water in the back of her mouth almost making her gag, "Shape shifting.... They... They're shape shifting." She clenched and unclenched her fist, "A gift from Azshara...?"

"You... cannot... fathom... her power...." the transformed naga gasped.  "Not... yet..."

Sylvanas set her jaw.  I definitely need to visit Kalimdor.  We need to warn our people.  And both Horde and Alliance have most of their druids over there. This is beyond the Forsaken's knowledge.

Jaina nodded. She’d need to be able to demonstrate what she’d found, which would mean taking a prisoner… unless…

She reached out with her magic again, trying to grasp on to that knot of strangeness within the snake-woman. The ‘human’ squirmed, gasping as the pain seemed to renew, and her shape once again writhed, squirming into other forms - an orc, a night elf, a troll, and finally back to her native form, giving a thin scream of agony.

Jaina winced slightly. She wasn’t her wife. She took no pleasure in this. An enemy this may be, but… she didn’t seek to torture the creature. Just…

She gave an experimental tug, and something came loose, slowly oozing out of the scaly chest of the naga. A bubbling, writhing, tentacled mass, the size of a fingerbone, quivering. The snake convulsed, blood gushing from her mouth, then went limp - dead.

Jaina grimaced. I hoped I could remove it without killing her… damn.

Sylvanas watched with fascination as Jaina peered at the knot of corrupted magic. What is that?

I don’t know. Not my field. Jaina straightened up, beginning to weave ice around the angry little thing. But it looks like Old God mischief. We need to get this to Kalimdor. Definitely not by portal. I don’t want it exposed to more magic than necessary aside from what I need to bind it.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, she looked over at Sylvanas. "Finish what you need to and we'll go."

"I'll make arrangements,” Sylvanas said, staring at the thing. Still trying to process the implications of how bad this could be.  “You're going to postpone your visit to Silvermoon?  I'll get an escort together."

"I'm going there while you sort out what you need to,” Jaina replied. “I'll be back by the afternoon. I think Lor’themar will understand when I let him know what we've discovered."

Sylvanas nodded.  "We'll be ready to leave as soon as you return."  She paused, squeezed Jaina's shoulder.  "Be careful.  Until we know more... who knows how deep these naga have infiltrated?"

The mage nodded, glanced at Sylvanas... But whatever vulnerable thought she was formulating, whatever hurt had been about to be shown, she abruptly crushed, "I'll return no later than mid-afternoon. I’ll leave as soon as I’ve finished sealing up this… seed.”

Sylvanas hesitated, sensing the disturbance. But then she nodded and stalked off.

Jaina returned her focus to wrapping up the bubble of strange magic in layer upon layer of ice. When she had finished, and sealed it in an arcane bubble, she paused, realising she was being observed by two Rangers. One of them familiar, the other not.

“Hawkspear.” She straightened, raised an eyebrow. “You and your friend need something?”

Hawkspear shrugged. “Call me Cyndia. Kalira and I need to see the body disposed of once you’re done.” She paused. “ Both bodies.”

Jaina paused. “Hawkspear… Cyndia… you mentioned something about a traitor. Before. What happened?”

The two Darkfallen exchanged dark looks.

“You told her about Mira?” Kalira asked with a scowl.

“She’s the Banshee Queen’s wife and consort,” Cyndia replied calmly. “And Mira’s hardly a state secret. Just… ugly history.” She turned to Jaina. “How much do you know about the fall of Silvermoon?”

“Some.” Jaina shook her head. “Sylvanas told me the broad strokes.” She had much to do, but… this suddenly seemed important.

“When Sylvanas set up her outpost ready to flank the Scourge advance, she split her forces. Lor’themar took the main force to defend the city itself. Sylvanas took the ranger division with her along with some support personnel. Short version, Arthas discovered our plan, and we were all killed in the battle. Sylvanas herself was among the last to die. We all sold our lives dearly for her.”

“Except one,” Kalira said darkly. “Mira. Mira Shadewither. She was young but capable. Thought she was fearless, until we were fighting the Scourge, and she was seeing her comrades die by the dozens. Until she watched her fellow Rangers be torn down and ripped apart, screaming. Her nerve broke, and she fled.”

“And that made her a traitor?” Jaina asked, frowning.

“No,” Cyndia said. “Light knows many good, bold men and women tried to run on that day. She wasn’t even the only Ranger who broke.” She gave Kalira a look before returning her focus to Jaina. “But the men and women under Lor’themar either died on the field or fled and lived. Mira was injured. She couldn’t run, and she was captured. Arthas had her brought before us all, and told Sylvanas to finish her. She was still begging for mercy from her captain as the life was drained from her.”

Kalira grimaced. “None of us died well, but hers was especially cruel, even I’ll admit that.”

“She was never the same again,” Cyndia continued. “I mean, none of us were. Even after Lady Windrunner freed us, reclaimed our bodies from Arthas’s vaults. But Mira was bitter, cold, detached. Even knowing none of us had a choice, she still resented Sylvanas for killing her. She… drank a lot. We tried to help her, but… she seemed beyond such things. Then one day, she vanished while on patrol. We assumed that she’d simply… found a way to end her misery.”

“Until,” Kalira said grimly, “The invasion of Northrend and the battle against the Scourge. Word reached us of a darkfallen Death Knight. One who seemed to know exactly how to fight us, one who moved with the grace of a ranger. Sylvanas tasked Loralen and myself to track down his anomaly, and we confirmed that it was in fact our lost sister. She admitted that she had willingly returned to the Scourge, and been granted new powers for it. She chose Arthas willingly, and thus she only freed herself again after his death, and then she returned, tried to beg forgiveness… but when we reported back to Lady Windrunner of what we had discovered, Sylvanas declared her banished. If she ever left Northrend, she would be killed on sight. As far as we know, she’s still there.”

Cyndia sighed. “You see what I mean, when I say that her circumstances were… complex? Arthas preyed upon her weakness, lured her back to the Scourge when she could find no peace or rest under the command of the one who killed her. But for any Ranger to return to the Scourge is a crime that cannot and should not be forgiven.”

Kalira glanced away, towards the other cell with evident venom. Clearly feeling no such consideration for her now deceased superior.

Jaina shivered slightly. “...thank you for sharing that with me.”

Yes, she understood why this Mira returning to Arthas would have provoked Sylvanas’s fury, and that of the other Rangers. Now Nathanos had betrayed Sylvanas over… what? Some kind of possessive spite? Thinking he owned her?

Nobody owned Sylvanas. She’d just killed to prove it.

As unsettled by the whole thing as she was… maybe she could trust that the rest of the dark rangers would remain loyal to their mistress.

“Here.” She held out the little prison sphere containing the magic she’d extracted from the naga. “Give this to Sylvanas. Don’t let anyone else see it.”

Cyndia took it with a nod. “I understand. Fear not, Lady Proudmoore, I’ll handle it.”

“Thank you.”

Jaina left the cell, giving one last glance at the naga. Then she raised her hand and opened a portal, stepping through into the palace of Silvermoon.

She gave no such look to the other cell.

There was some minor commotion in the throne room as she emerged, but all quickly relaxed.  She was expected, after all.  "You're early, Lady Proudmoore," Lor'themar said brightly.  "Can I offer some tea?"

"There's no time. I apologise for coming off schedule but there's been a development. Lor'themar, I need to speak with you privately."

The blood elf glanced around, frowning a little.  Nodded, got to his feet and gestured to a side room. "What's happened?  Is Lady Sylvanas... in trouble?"

Jaina followed him inside and waited until they were alone, "No. But we've discovered a development among the naga. They've learned to shape-shift. One could appear human, and I doubt that was the limit of her abilities."

He cursed. "Shapeshift? You're certain? Not illusions or glamours? The naga have always been masters of the arcane, but... Shapeshifting?"

"I'm certain. We need to be careful. I'm here to choose the Silvermoon liaison before Sylvanas and I sail for Kalimdor. I'm going to have to vet every liaison to make sure they aren't a naga. It will be... Invasive. But shouldn't harm them."

The Regent Lord bit his lip, nodded. "Understandable. Silvermoon has been undone by betrayal from within before. Define 'invasive'?"

"I'll have to feel out their native magic, find any trace of nature magic on them." She sighed, "A druid would be better suited... But I'll manage until we find one suitable."

"I think, under the circumstances and to save time, I will simply name the best choice from the candidates. I believe you should already be familiar with Lady Liadrin. She’s been at the forefront of Silvermoon since we reclaimed our homeland, and she wouldn’t even blink at such a test." He turned to leave.

Jaina nodded, "Alright. If you're sure. I'll wait here." She used the moment alone to take a deep calming breath.

Lor’themar returned some minutes later, accompanied by an unmistakable figure. Lady Liadrin, Matriarch of the Blood Knights, champion of Silvermoon, locked eyes with her calmly.

"Liadrin," Jaina inclined her head, "Has Lor'themar told you the reason for my visit?"

The paladin inclined her head. “He indicated there were some security concerns regarding the liaisons to your proposed council. I assume it to be an urgent one. What can I and the Blood Knights do for you, Proudmoore?”

“I need to conduct a magical test on you,” Jaina said simply. "Please don't take this personally, it's not just you, I'll be interviewing all liasons this way... Will you agree to it?"

Once she had the woman’s permission she, far more gently than with the naga, tugged on her mana, reaching out to hold her gauntleted hand over Liadrin’s forehead rather than grasping her. She searched... But found nothing, and relaxed when she pulled away.

“You’re clean.”  She pulled her hand away. “I do have some questions to ask you if you are going to be Silvermoon’s liaison, though.”

Liadrin inclined her head. “What is the security concern? If there is a threat to Silvermoon, I need to be able to act upon it.”

“Naga infiltration,” Lor’themar said with a sigh. “Apparently the Warchief’s security, along with Lady Proudmoore, managed to discover a snake that could shapeshift. Appear normal.”

Liadrin clenched an armoured fist. “I see.”

“I have limited time here,” Jaina said. “I would advise keeping this quiet, but you must use your best judgement for security. For now, Lady Liadrin - my questions?”

Reluctantly the paladin acquiesced, and Jaina got down to business. She gave the battery of questions she'd designed while interviewing those at Stormwind; a commitment to peace, a commitment to diplomacy, a commitment to their people but without the zealotry that would be willing to watch all other races burn if it meant their own survived...

There weren’t really any surprises.  Liadrin was unyielding and firm, but she had a good soul underneath that jaded warrior’s exterior. Not long ago, she had been a formidable enemy, but she was no Greymane. And she had the maturity and experience to bring some gravitas to a council. No doubt she’d be frustrating at times, but… she’d make a good representative for Silvermoon.

"I still need to gather the other liaisons,” Jaina concluded. “That may take some time. But with any luck we’ll be able to gather the full council in a couple of weeks, and I’ll call for you then.”

“Good,” Liadrin said firmly. “For now I need to work on security matters here. I think I understand what you did, at least enough to vet sensitive positions.  I should start on that right away.  Safe journey, Lady Proudmoore.”  She stalked off.

Lor'themar nodded grimly.  "You will keep me informed if you find anything more about these naga?"

Jaina nodded, "We will. I'm hopeful that the druids of Kalimdor will have a better way of rooting them out... Until then please, use caution." She opened a portal back to the Undercity, the throne room specifically.

Sylvanas was not there.  But one of the guards on duty saluted her.  "Lady Proudmoore," he rasped.  "Lady Windrunner is on the surface, if you seek her."

"On the surface?" She glanced up out of reflex, "Is she ready to go then?"

"She is coordinating the loading of supplies and overseeing preparations for departure.  Do you wish for an escort?"

Jaina paused, "That depends on if she's simply in the area or if she's wherever your port is. I can find her myself if it's the first but the second..."

"She is in the ruins, preparing to move out," he said simply.

"I'll see myself up then, thank you." She turned, deciding to walk. She remembered the way at this point, climbing up to the elevator without much hassle.

The abominations grumbled at her like giant guard dogs.  As she reached the surface, and passed the old throne room, she saw a swell of activity, undead loading up a supply caravan, various rangers and other officers directing matters.  Sylvanas was pacing back and forth like an angry dog, watching.

She glanced up towards Jaina, sensing her arrival with a swell of warmth, then turned back to work.

Jaina... Didn't fight the swell of warmth but it was smaller. Nathanos still weighing on her. But… they'd speak about it later. “You got my package?” she murmured as she walked over.

Sylvanas patted her belt. “It won’t leave my side until we reach Kalimdor.” The Banshee Queen studied Jaina for a moment, expression tightening for a moment. No, she didn’t want to talk about it right now either.

Jaina took a deep breath. "Is the port very far?" she asked curiously.

"A little way.  We concealed it from prying eyes long ago.  Our naval presence has been sorely lacking since the beginning, we didn't want to risk it being targeted."  Sylvanas sighed softly.  "How did it go? In Silvermoon?"

"Fine. Lor'themar’s concerned about this newest development... But his liaison made it easy to wrap up quickly. Liadrin’s a good choice."

Who wouldn't be concerned.   Up close... Sylvanas was putting on a brave face.  She didn't like the revelations of the morning either. To anyone else she’d appear as impassive as ever, but...  "The human, dwarf and gnome liaisons will just have to wait for now, unless they want to go to Kalimdor as well."

The darkfallen elf shook her head.  "Just once... just once it'd be nice if we could have a break without some massive upheaval.  Just for a few months."

Jaina sighed, but managed the ghost of a smile, "Maybe one day I'll take you on a real vacation. Probably to another dimension just so we don't get called in when someone sneezes wrong."

Sylvanas snorted.  "We both know that we'd just be attacked by void monsters or something.  There's no escape for people like us.  Incidentally, what are you going to do with your ship?"

"What do you mean?" Jaina asked.

"It's just floating out in the bay and while I know it's hardly undefended... wouldn't you rather put it somewhere more secure?"

She frowned, "You're not wrong... But it feels strange to bring it to dock at either a Horde or Alliance port right now."

"I know you're keen to make it neutral territory, but... need I remind you that the naga seem to be getting bolder and more aggressive?  At least in Stormwind or Netherhome, there'll be people watching for if you suddenly have snakes swarming over the thing."

Jaina frowned, "Netherhome... Is that what your port is called? Where is it?"

"Underground.  To the north.  Not far off, actually."  Sylvanas chuckled faintly.  "Funny how useful the Scourge can be sometimes for diverting attention."

Jaina tried to think exactly where her ship was, getting around the horn to the north side wouldn't be much faster than getting to Stormwind... She shook her head, it'd still take too long either way, "I'll take her to Stormwind, it's going to be just as difficult either way. It's already going to take too long for me to get back in time if I just sail it normally... And it will give me a chance to tell Anduin what's going on with the Naga."

The banshee nodded.  "We'll get underway.  The Windrunner should be at sea by the time you're finished and you can teleport straight to us.  I'll show you Netherhome some other time."

She nodded, briefly touched her fingers to Sylvanas's... But turned away without anything more, opening a portal to the Proudmoore, stepping through without another word.

The ship was much as she'd left it... but something felt off, making her hackles rise.

Someone was standing at the bow of the ship.  Someone in the green armour and regalia of a Kul Tiran.

She'd summoned her staff to bear the moment she felt something was off. They weren't that close to Kul Tiras but... Could an outrunner, a frigate or something have stumbled upon the supposedly lost ship and investigated?

"Identify yourself." She called over the waves.

The figure slowly turned.

It had Jaina's face.  Angry scars along her cheek, a tricorn hat, the emblem of Lord Admiral on her chest.

She inhaled sharply, half a step back before she remembered herself and more magic then was likely necessary erupted into her palm, "A naga ploy? Next time try choosing the face of someone I love if you want to get to me!" Lances of ice erupted around her from the air, shooting towards the apparition.

The ice passed harmlessly through the figure, who stalked menacingly forward.  "You can't kill the truth," she said coldly.

Jaina's chest went cold, "You're not the truth. You're an illusion!" More magic, more ice, maybe it was a creature who could phase. Most couldn't do that for long so if she erupted spikes of ice all across the deck it couldn't ignore them. Right?

"I'm the truth of what you should have been."  It drew a sword.  Her father's sword.  Her assault did nothing to it.  "This was his ship.  This is my ship.  You are a shadow, a weakling who stood by and watched.  You don't deserve this vessel. By raising it from the depths, you are cursed until you should drown. Just as your father did! TRAITOR!"

A combination of fear and rage in a mage could be deadly, not just to themselves, but to those around them.  She abandoned ice and simply pulled directly on the magic, dipping into the arcane she so avoided... Dipping into her soul out of fear, Banish this ill begotten nightmare!

" NO! "

" STAY AWAY FROM KUL TIRAS! " the apparition roared, rearing up its sword to cut her down.

Then the torrent of power slammed into it, and it was gone.  Whether destroyed or dissipating of its own accord... was unclear.

She was left, shaking and breathing heavily. Her hand clutching over her heart. Stay away from Kul Tiras..? Why would something like that appear to her now? Like this?

Dread filled her and she looked up, around, banishing the ice across the deck, turned the ship around, heading south. Never mind that it was against the winds, she needed to get to Kul Tiras. She spared no magic to force the ship towards her homeland. As the boat's anchor raised and it began to shove through the dark waters she hurried down to the captain's office, dragging out two sheets of paper. To Anduin she wrote a quick missive.

Anduin

Something is happening in Kul Tiras. I fear the worst. I am en route now. No matter my crimes against my people I must make sure they are safe-guarded against whatever this threat is. I'm writing this to you so you know that Sylvanas did not go back on her word or break the contract if you don't hear from me.

Jaina

To Sylvanas she wrote a different one.

Sylvanas,

Something came aboard my ship. It wore my face but wasn't a shapeshifter or a ghost. I think the ship's proximity to Kul Tiran waters triggered its attack. Something is happening in my homeland. I'm sorry for the sudden change in plans but I must see that Kul Tiras is safe. That my mother and brother are safe. Hopefully I will see you again. Soon.

Jaina.

First to Anduin, then to Sylvanas, she shoved the notes through their respective portals before closing them again and heading back onto deck, to the helm.

The journey to Kul Tiras wouldn't be a long one. After the days earlier darkness and that apparition’s sudden appearance, Jaina was on edge.  What else might she see on this journey?  What else might rattle her sanity and resolve?

But she clamped down on that abruptly. No. Nothing would waver her. She had not seen her mother in nearly twenty years, her brother in a bit more than that... But she would not let them or Kul Tiras fall. To anything.

Weak? That apparition knew nothing of strength.

There was a storm rising as the Proudmoore forged west, out into the ocean.  How many times had she passed by this place?  Seen it in the distance, but never gone back?

Now she would.

To what kind of welcome?

And she'd be going alone.

Not only to people that considered her traitors, but... whatever doom had overtaken them.

Chapter Text

The seas around Kul Tiras were rough, but the Proudmoore was a match for them. Even with only Jaina for crew, she’d faced worse storms.  She watched the clouds, judging their path, their severity, even as she steered the mighty warship through the raging surf.

It made for a good distraction from her thoughts. The unshaped fears of what might be threatening her homeland… and the more grounded ones of how she’d be treated.

The only question there was room for in her thoughts was the one right in front of her; why were there storms surrounding Kul Tiras?  Why would the Tidesages allow this so close to home?

It didn’t help her state of mind that in the midst of the rain and roaring sea, she kept seeing phantasms out of the corner of her eye, vanishing when she looked.

Were they really there?  Or illusions of her frantic imagination?

Finally the Proudmoore broke through the storm and came out into calmer waters, and the rocky shores of her home came into view.  The capital and grand harbour lay ahead.

Boralus... It hurt how keenly it smelled like home as she got closer.

But there was something off. The harbour seemed… far too empty.  Where was the mighty Kul Tiran navy? There were a handful of ships.  Dinky frigates.  Fishing boats.  But no battleships, none of the mighty vessels that she remembered.The fleet was never home all at once but... It looked practically barren. Where the hell was everyone?

As she got closer, she saw more details. There were people scattered along the shores.  Boralus itself seemed bustling, but a surge of activity became clear as the Proudmoore was spotted.  Alerts sounded, guards moving to... what?  Welcome the ship home?

Arrest her?

But there was nothing seemingly wrong.  No monsters, no destruction.

If there truly was a threat to Kul Tiras at hand… it hadn’t made its move yet. That, or it was something more insidious.

Jaina had two options. Weigh anchor in the bay and portal herself somewhere closer to look around in secret or... Go home.

Watching, waiting, quiet tactics... That had been what she did. Until she was begging for help to save Theramore.

She pulled in the sails as the Proudmoore came to the dock, the dark, ruined Kul Tiran green folding away with her magic as she stood on the deck, steadying her nerves as the gangplank was lowered. It'd be a miracle if she wasn't lynched on sight.

Kul Tiran marines were waiting for her.  The crowd behind them stared, a ripple of muttering sounding.  Traitor.  Betrayer.  Monster.

"Jaina Proudmoore," the head of the marines ground out.  "You are under arrest."

"I must speak with Lord Admiral Katherine Proudmoore,” the mage said as evenly as she could.

"Oh, you'll speak with her all right.  Come with us."

The crowd was definitely hostile.  She hadn't felt this unwelcome even in Undercity. There she had just been an outsider, but here, in her homeland… 

Jaina kept her eyes ahead, tried not to listen too closely. She deserved this. Her main guilt was her father... But how many sailors and marines died needlessly at Theramore? How many families never saw their men again?

The place was dilapidated.  But surprisingly little damage seemed to have been done by the Legion.  They seemed to have fought off the demons well enough on their own.  Kul Tiras could hardly have been a focus, so... perhaps not a major surprise.

But as she arrived at the palace itself, and her staff was confiscated, moving her into the grand audience chamber... things had definitely changed.

The four great banners lining the hall of the families of Kul Tiras were the same as ever.  But there seemed to be... some that were unrepresented.  No Stormsong or Waycrest seemed to be present.  Just her mother, looking... older, and tireder.  Alongside her, the rotund figure of Lady Ashvane, who seemed to have put on weight and arrogance in the last twenty years.

"The prodigal daughter returns," Ashvane sneered. “Her hands stained with the blood of Kul Tiras.”

"Why are you here?" Katherine said coldly.  "To finally face judgement for your crimes?"

"I am here to ensure the safety of Kul Tiras," Jaina replied as dispassionately as she could. By the light... when had her mother started looking so much older? So many wrinkles, so much grey, so much weariness in her bearing... It made her chest ache. "I was attacked by a spectre that insinuated something sinister is happening here... And when that is assured I will peacefully turn myself over for judgement."

"A spectre?" Ashvane said, frowning.

Katherine Proudmoore’s expression did not change. Cold. Angry.  "One that accused you of being unfit to command my husband's ship?  That raged at your treachery?"

Jaina frowned, confused, "... How could you know that?"

The Lord Admiral’s stare bore into her. "Because when word reached me that you had pulled the Proudmoore from the depths, I entreated the Tidesages to send you a curse should you dare to use it.  It would seem that my request was finally answered.  The Tidemother herself judges you guilty for the murder of the Kul Tiran expedition… and my husband. You were warned to stay in exile… or be punished for your crimes."

It didn't just rip the wind from Jaina’s sails... It felt like her masts had been cut down. She'd been aware that it might be a trap. That it was likely exactly what whoever sent that message wanted but... She'd thought...

"... Then I submit myself to your judgement... Mother."

She was the only threat to Kul Tiras here.

“Enforce our laws, Katherine,” Ashvane said. An ugly, gloating look in her eyes. “The penalty for treason is death .”

Katherine slowly stepped forward, gazing coldly into Jaina’s eyes.  Reached out a hand to the anchor around her neck.  Inspected it.

Ripped it away.  "You are no daughter of mine. Take her away. Her fate is of no concern to me."  She turned to leave.

Jaina watched her back turn and felt herself go numb, eyes drifting downwards. At least... At least it would be done with. She wouldn't fight, and submitted herself to the guardsmen willingly.

Finally she would be punished for her crimes and failures.

She was led away.  Down.  Into the dungeons.  Searched, her robes taken.  It all blurred in the wash of desolation consuming her, until she found herself in a cold, damp cell.  Alone.  A magic dampening collar around her neck. Only a few rags to cover her flesh.

Disowned by her family.  Parted from her friends.

From her wife.

God she was tired. The collar felt heavier than it should have. How long had she been using the arcane to prop her up? How long had she been this exhausted ? Twenty years of built up sleep debt she'd never settled the tab for. She stood in the cell, looking down at herself. Nothing remained of her. Everything and everyone stripped away.

So much for being the only one who could stop this or that catastrophe. So much for being the one who was destined to lead this or that people. So much for being a mage without parallel...

Stripped down, what was she? Nothing. An exhausted woman. Sister to no one. Daughter of nothing. Ruler of a charred crater.

She'd even managed to fail someone yet again. She'd promised she wouldn't abandon Sylvanas.

What an idiot to make promises to anyone thinking she could keep them.

At least... with everything else gone... no responsibilities, no power, no one to care for or be cared for by... she could sleep.

She might end up dying in this cell.  Forgotten. Assuming that Ashvane didn’t make good on her demand and have her executed.

Nobody had ever stood by her before.  She was ever the outcast, the outlier.

Why would they come for her now?

Anduin might arrive in the harbour. Try to parlay for her. But he wouldn't do anything too rash. He believed in the greater good... And going to war with Kul Tiras over Jaina Proudmoore wouldn't be supported by half the Alliance, let alone most of the Horde. He'd probably try, but in the end he would do what was right by the Alliance.

Sylvanas...

She sank down against the wall, leaning her head against the cool stone of the corner.

Would Sylvanas even think to come for her? That wasn't a strategically sound move. And it would put the tenuous peace in jeopardy, putting her Forsaken in harm’s way. She wouldn't come.

And there was nobody else. Just ghosts.

Jaina closed her eyes and wished she could just cry... But she was too tired.

Death honestly sounded like a welcome relief. And if it brought some peace to Kul Tiras… maybe it would do more good than her life.

***

Hours passed. The dungeon was silent and still; occasionally she would hear guards patrolling in the distance, but they only rarely came into view. No matter how tired she was, sleep or rest would not come. The guilt all-consuming would not let her.

Softly, so softly that she almost thought she was imagining it, music began.

A familiar tune. Her tune.

Who was singing?  One of the soldiers?.

Part of her didn't want to hear it, wanted to plug her ears and duck her head against her knees and pretend it didn't exist. Part of her was angry. That was her song. Were they mocking her?

But instead she listened quietly, making sure that she was hearing it before she got up, going to the door to lean against it, straining her ears.

No words.  Just humming the tune.

But then words started, and... not the ones she knew.

"Return, return, oh Daughter of the Sea...

Return, I heard her cry

Her words carried among the oceans free

As she gazed towards the sky..."

Her? Whose cry? Her mother?

"Who's there?" Jaina called.

A figure came into view along the corridor.  Humanoid, feminine, but crafted of water. An elemental - and yet with far more control and care for her appearance than most.

She knelt by the cell, humming softly.  "Welcome home, Jaina Proudmoore."  Her voice was gentle, soothing.

The mage didn't let go of the bars, but had leaned back at the creature's approach, "More torments from the Tidesages?"

"No.  A friend." The elemental’s liquid features shifted into a sad smile. "Times are changing, Jaina.  The pieces falling into place.  Soon the world will be reborn into peace and prosperity eternal.  But there is another war coming.  The last war."

"And I'm supposed to lead something or do something or be someone." Jaina sighed and hung her head, "I've heard this before. It always comes from someone claiming to  be a friend. It always ends in whatever it was falling apart.... Often with thousands dying in the process."

"I know," the figure crooned softly.  "You have suffered much and lost more.  Each betrayal has been a heartbreak, and in turn I have felt that pain echoed.  But you have grown so strong, learned so much, never lost your hope.  You even wedded your greatest enemy and brought a glimmer of hope to Azeroth.  I was so proud of you... my daughter."

Jaina looked up sharply, confused, "Mother..?"

Her eyes tried to search out any details, to see any shape of Katherine in the shade, "... My mother is no mage." Anger reared somewhat as she leaned towards the bars, "Who are you really?"

"I never claimed to be Katherine Proudmoore," the elemental said, unfazed. A gentle hand brushed her cheek, wet and salty but coherent enough to feel solid.  "But I am your mother.  My daughter of the sea."

Jaina backed up, straight to the back wall of her tiny cell, "My mother..." She raised herself against the stones to stand, ready to fight... She really doubted fists were going to cut it here but if that's all she had she'd go out biting, punching, and kicking if she had to. "... Is Katherine Proudmoore."

"Your mother is the sea, my Jaina.  Katherine merely raised you."  The figure rose, the bubbling water where legs ought to be rippling and surging.  "And I can prove it, if you wish."

Jaina looked it over. Did she have a choice? Would this creature leave if she demanded it?

And she had always been... curious. It was hard to deny that had an influence when she replied, "Prove it then."

A gently rippling hand reached between the bars.  "Take my hand.  Let me show you your true skin."

Jaina eyed it, distrusting... And a little afraid.

There was always fear before she leapt. But Jaina Proudmoore always leapt. Nobody had ever tried to stop her and no matter how many times she'd dash herself on the rocks below she never learned her lesson. It'd been a fair question when Anduin once asked if she had a death wish.

She stepped forward and took the hand.

The hand grasped hers, and a rush of power flowed up her arm.  Casually overruling the necklace that tried to suppress it.

"It won't last.  But doesn't that feel so much better?" the voice cooed.

The most alarming thing was that at first it didn't feel like anything had changed. But even just glancing at her arm she knew that wasn't true. Her skin had taken on a shimmer of white scales. Her fingers had become webbed and came to claws with dark, sharp nails. The braid on her shoulder squirmed of its own accord, wiggling free of itself, alive in white tendrils. Her feet were left much the same as her hands. Her teeth sharp, her neck itched, feeling dry and thirsty.

Fear rose sharply in her and she tried to pull away, "What- What is the meaning of this?!"

"I told you.  Katherine Proudmoore never birthed you, Jaina.  Your blood, and your power come from elsewhere." The figure’s tone never changed.  Gentle, loving, affectionate.

Slowly her flesh returned to normal.  But there was a deep, uncomfortable feeling that this... this was the untruth.

She held up her hands. What should be normal hands. Hands she'd had all her life. Fair skin like her mothers. Gold hair like her mother’s.

The mother who had always been a little distant. Like there had been a line there that hadn’t been present with her father.

Why did this suddenly feel so alien and wrong ? Like a rock was crushing her?

"... What am I?" It was all but whispered.

"You are the daughter of the sea."  The figure laughed softly.  "Did you think that your father named you that in jest?  A mere reference to the naval history of your people?  No, Jaina.  You are mine.  And finally... you are ready to come home. Not yet. But soon."

She looked up at the shade. It felt like her world had abruptly tilted on its side without warning, "But... Who are you?... The Tidemother?"

It had been a very long time since Jaina felt so incredibly out of her depth.

"Yes," the apparition said.  "That is how you know me best."

Jaina took a tentative step forward, "... Was Daelin Proudmoore my father?"

"He was," the Tidemother purred.  "A small man... but one with a seed of potential in him that I used... to make you."

It was... somewhat relieving to hear. To know that one of her parents had been truly hers.

"Did mother..." She trailed off. Corrected herself awkwardly, "... Did Katherine know?"

"She knew what I allowed her to know."  The apparition hummed softly.  "I cannot release you from this cell.  Not yet.  But soon.  Soon the war against the dark will begin."

"The dark?" Jaina grabbed the bars of the cell, "No, listen to me, please, the Horde does not have to be our enemy! We can have our peace now!"

The Tidemother gave a soft laugh.  An affectionate one, of a mother explaining to a child.  "No, Jaina.  Not the Horde.  Does your wife know that you think of the men and women who follow her as 'the dark'?"

Jaina paled, "No that's... That isn't what I meant!" Wasn't it?

Even now there was still so much hatred she hadn't let go.

A soft caress of her cheek.  A salty kiss pressed on her forehead. "The Horde and the Alliance must find peace.  They must work together.  N’zoth moves, and he is not alone. The seas are preparing to rise, Jaina, and soon you must reclaim your heritage if you are to succeed."

A mother's affection. Had she really been watching Jaina all this time? How would she know otherwise?

Was the Tidemother really... Her actual mother?

"N'zoth?" No. That… "If I'd gone to war with the Horde like I planned then..." Azeroth wouldn't have stood a chance. She looked up sharply, "Tidemother, you have to let me out of here, I need to get a message to Anduin and Sylvanas. They need to know, they need to prepare!"

"I will send someone to you, to help you escape," the Tidemother said.  "But then you must leave.  Kul Tiras is in a state of chaos.  It will need you soon.  But right now... others need you more.  I will watch over your home."

"Thank you..."  She looked at her hands. Pink and pale gripping the bars... And tried to shake that wrong feeling again, "...Mother."

"One day, Jaina... I will call you home, and give you your own flesh again, for real.  But until then... I will simply tell you that I love you, child.  And I know you will make me proud."  Seawater hands gently took hers. “But for now… it would not be safe. You must remain secret. If the other powers of the ocean were to find you now… all could be lost.”

It hurt. Rejected by one mother and then, discovering this... Whatever this was, being kept away from the other.

Jaina nodded though, "Thank you." It came out much softer this time. Still she didn't cry... But the feeling was no less genuine.

"If you need me, Jaina... find the sea, alone, and call me.  I will answer if I can.  But keep this secret, Jaina.  The ocean is N'zoth's realm, and if he finds me talking to you... we will both be in danger."  The Tidemother began to pull away.

"I understand. I will be careful." Jaina swallowed, "You shouldn't linger then." She touched the shade's hands, "I'll be fine."

Another brief kiss on her head.  Then the elemental lost cohesion, and water splashed and flowed away.

And it felt like the song that echoed through her heart... had been subtly rewritten.  Like she'd always had it wrong. The lullaby Daelin had sung to her… and the curse it had become… were both imperfect copies of the true song.

Just like her body.

She watched the empty hall for a moment, like she might see something... But as silence reasserted herself she backed against the wall again, sinking to the floor, closing her eyes and leaning her head back, humming along.

***

The days in Undercity must have helped her body clock deal with lack of light, because she was pretty sure it was the middle of the night when a figure suddenly appeared at her cell door.  A young woman, wrapped in a dark cloak, with a Kul Tiran look about her.  She was desperately fumbling the lock, seemingly trying to unlock it with a spell.  "Lady Proudmoore?" she hissed.  "Wake up!"

Jaina jerked awake, she'd only been dozing, in and out, afraid to completely fall asleep. Carefully she rose to her feet, coming over to the door, "... Who are you?"

"My name is Lanira.  I'm an apprentice Tidesage and please tell me you know an unlocking spell because this one isn't working and the guard patrol will be back soon! " Her evident panic was making her fingers shake. Clearly she wasn’t used to this kind of skullduggery.

"Alright, calm your mind. Take a breath." She pressed her fingers over the girls, "All it takes is a focused mind and a very gentle tug ."

Lanira took a breath, obeyed.  The lock clicked, and she pulled the door open.  "Come on, we have to hurry!  We don't have long!  I have to get you to the docks!"

Jaina followed after the girl, "Who sent you?"

"I had a vision from the Tidemother.  She told me I had to break you free, showed me the prison... so... here I am."  Lanira pressed herself back against the wall as guards passed nearby, then beckoned for Jaina to follow.  "I created a distraction in the levels above, but it won't last long."

"Can you get this collar off of me?"

"There's no time.  I'll get it off when we find somewhere quiet."  She was clearly nervous, but no fool.  She must have planned this carefully, with how few patrols they'd seen.

Jaina kept close to her, careful about where she stepped and her own breathing.

Fairly straightforward escape. She'd done this sort of thing... Long ago.

The young priestess finally slipped into what seemed to be a small armoury, clicking the lock open with a small pulse of magic.  Quick learner.  Then she closed the door behind them.

"Ok.  We should be safe in here for a while.  I'll try and get that collar off, and we can go from there."  She wetted her lips anxiously, and began fiddling with the locking mechanism.  In the light, one could catch glimpses of short reddish hair and blue eyes beneath the hood.

Jaina lifted her chin, "Once this is off of me you should go and keep yourself safe. I'll get myself out easily enough.”

Lanira hesitated, fingers pausing as she met Jaina’s gaze.  Then she nodded.  "As you wish, Lady Proudmoore.  Just... not all of Kul Tiras believes you're a traitor.  Please remember that?"

The mage blinked, "... Don't you?"

The younger woman shook her head.  "No.  I've travelled a little, listened to the stories.  I even came to Theramore once, before it was destroyed.  I know what you were trying to do."  She gave a rueful smile.  "And I know what the older generation can be like.  Very... set on their ideas of how things are."

Jaina wasn't sure how to respond to that, "... Thank you." She put a hand on the girl’s shoulder, "Now get this thing off me."

Lanira returned to her fumbling, then the collar clicked off.  "Ok.  Now... now I need to find my way out of the prison again, and hope that nobody noticed that I'm missing."

Jaina breathed a sigh of relief, tossing the bit of enchanted metal away, rubbing her neck, "Don't worry, I'll get you out of here. Did you come all the way from the north or are you local?"

"North, but I was visiting the city anyway."  The priestess gave Jaina a grateful smile.  "Just drop me off by the ocean and if anyone asks questions I can just say I was having a late night communion with the Tidemother."

She nodded, held up a hand. She knew just the spot. She'd seen it on her way in while she'd been scanning the harbor, no one should notice her. She opened the portal, "Be careful, I hope to meet you again, Lanira."

"Tidemother willing," the girl said.  "Oh... and, uh, the navy, or what's left of it, was pulling out in a hurry.  There was some kind of worry about an attack?"

Jaina frowned, "... No. There shouldn't be…” She gestured, "Go quickly, portals draw attention. I'll make sure that Boralus harbor is safe before I go."

Lanira stepped through.  "Good luck!"

Then she was gone.

Worry of an attack?  Who could that be?  But it'd make it easier to get the Proudmoore out without being attacked if the fleet was already elsewhere...

She took a deep breath, tugged and listened to the echo of where her staff was. Close. She walked past some of the racks and found it, calling it to her hand swiftly before she opened another portal, directly to the Proudmoore below decks. 

The ship was empty and untouched.  The wards she’d left in place had been tested, but clearly nobody had been able to board the vessel.

She didn't look at the scorched seal of her marriage below her feet, she didn't check the deck as the sails snapped to attention and the ship began to pull away. All she did was pull on a fresh set of clothes, humming.  Return, return...

As she walked onto the deck, her voice echoed across the bay, her hands raised, eyes glowing with the swell of the arcane. Slowly at first, the Proudmoore rose from the water and into the air, sailing over the tops of the meagre Kul Tiran fleet. Her eyes searching the horizon for whatever had stirred them into a harbour defence.

Four Kul Tiran frigates were forming a defensive line.  Beyond she could see no less than three Forsaken battleships and five frigates, with the distant shapes of bats circling them.

Forsaken..?

... Sylvanas?

" Return to the harbour, " Her voice reverberated down to the ships she was passing, the Proudmoore starting to sink back down into the waves ahead of them, " If you value your lives. "

Why was Sylvanas here?  She turned the ship on a course to come side to side with the Windrunner as she stood at the front.

The Forsaken fleet shifted, turning to envelop and bring the Proudmoore into its formation and leaving Kul Tiras behind.  Then one of the bats overhead swooped, a dark shape surging through the air from its back and coalescing on the deck of the Proudmoore.

Sylvanas folded her arms and scowled at her.  "Does the word 'patience' mean nothing to you?"

Jaina stared at her, actually convinced for a split moment that she was an apparition too.

"... Why did you come?"

The banshee stepped forward.  "You sent me a message out of nowhere, telling me that you were going somewhere that you were considered a traitor, without backup.  Why do you think I came?"

She didn't move, didn't rise to the anger, honestly just searching Sylvanas's face, "I don't know."

It was true. She didn't.

The elf eyed her for a moment.  Sighed softly. For a moment, it seemed like Sylvanas would close off. Maintain her shields, as she so often did.

Then Jaina was being hugged tightly.

"Because I care about you, you damned fool."

Jaina wasn't sure she knew how to breathe anymore The discomfort of being pressed into a cold, armoured body completely outweighed by her words and the embrace.

Jaina's chest twitched and suddenly she couldn't see for the tears in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Sylvanas's waist, holding her tightly in return. She didn't sob, but she shook as a torrent of tears fell. Her face pressed against Sylvanas's collar, heedless of the chain armour there.

Sylvanas held her.  Let her cry without comment.  Just gently ran a hand through Jaina's hair, kissed her head softly.

"I'm sorry," Jaina finally managed, still teary, "I didn't think... Tactically speaking this kind of response wasn't the smartest. Just for one person. And if they did do something... you'd be rid of me. Your biggest obstacle. And..."

"If I wanted rid of you I'd have let Nathanos finish the job, Proudmoore.  Do you realise how fucking difficult it'll be to keep this peace process going if you get yourself imprisoned or executed?  You're damn right I'd come for you, and I'd give you to the Val'kyr if you'd gotten yourself killed.  And probably made your first experience as one of the undead getting slapped." Despite the flat, pragmatic words… the tight embrace and soft tone showed just how much the elf cared.

Whatever she used to be, whatever Nathanos had encouraged and been party to, whatever her distrusts and biases and hatreds… she wanted to change.

Jaina must be getting too used to undeath surrounding her because she actually breathed a small laugh, "I'd probably deserve it." It must be a long day if Sylvanas’s death jokes were funny…

She looked up with a tear stained face, "But honestly can we save whatever shouting or slapping you'd like to do for later? I've already spent a day in prison and had my mother disown me..."

Among other things.

"You're important, Jaina.  To me.  I'll leave it at that.  Come on.  I turned out the fleet for you, now let's get to Kalimdor."  Sylvanas pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.  "Did you figure out what was threatening the place?"

"... Yes." Jaina sobered, "It was me."

Chapter Text

Sylvanas studied her for a moment.  Nodded.  "Well... I have you back.  That's the main thing.  You look exhausted."

"When they put me in prison they put a nullifying collar on me. I got to feel just how tired I am without magic holding me up..."

The feeling of bodily... wrongness returned for a moment, harshly reminding her that this body should not be...

"Do the undead get tired? I've never even been sure if you needed sleep beyond forced magic sleep..."

"Yes," Sylvanas said simply.  "We do. Zombies and unintelligent ones kind of just keep going, but people like me need to take some time out. I don't have a bed just for show." The banshee considered quipping about how often she slept by Jaina’s side, but… no. Something was off. Not the time for jokes.

You seem uncomfortable.  Is there something I can do?

No. Jaina felt trapped. Even the visceral relief, the realisation that Sylvanas really did care, that she really had changed from the portrait Nathanos had painted… it wasn’t enough to break the confusion and paranoia of what she’d learned.

Did she... did she keep this from Sylvanas? Would it be safe from N'zoth across their bond? He was still trapped in the sea.

She decided she'd tell Sylvanas... But not here. No. Maybe at Thunder Bluff, and only inside their minds. That might be the only safe way to divulge the information. As far from the sea and as locked away as possible.

"Beds are useful for other things besides sleeping." She pointed out, resting her head back against Sylvanas's neck, "Do you have enough manpower to look after the Proudmoore as well? It'd only need a skeleton crew." She paused, "That... was unintentional."

Sylvanas breathed a laugh.  "I'll signal for some of my sailors to take over.  Do you want to stay here, or come back to the Windrunner?"  Clear in her mind was the intention to stay by Jaina's side regardless.

"Come down to bed with me?" Nothing was going to happen besides sleep, she felt, but she didn't want Sylvanas leaving either... And being close to the first seal of their marriage was... soothing. It was starting to mean something to her.

Sylvanas gave her a small smile, touched her arm. “Give me a minute.” Then she raised a hand to one of the bats flying overhead.

The bat swooped down to land, a familiar hooded silhouette on its back.  "I need a skeleton crew for the Proudmoore, ” Sylvanas instructed briskly. “The Windrunner , Resurgent and Threnody are to join formation and set course for Kalimdor, while the main fleet returns to port. I'll be below deck if I'm needed."

The dark ranger took off, and Sylvanas turned, gesturing for Jaina to take the lead.  Holding on to her shoulder.

Jaina led them down below decks. The swell of the arcane returning to her had given her a boost, made her feel more in control... But the physical discomfort of existence wouldn't let her completely forget just how tired she was. Sailing to Kalimdor would take some time... And she might just sleep the whole way like this.

As soon as they were in the admiral's quarters she started to pull off the clothes she'd pulled on, the dirty remnants of her pants and bodice still tossed haphazardly into a corner.

"What did they do to you?" Sylvanas asked softly. Stripping out of the outer layers of her armour and trying to restrain her protective fury. She could tell something bad had happened on Kul Tiras, something able to break her seemingly implacable consort.

"Sentenced me for treason against Kul Tiras." Jaina let herself out of just about everything, even underwear felt uncomfortable gripping to her skin before she slid under the covers. Skin that itched every time she thought about it.

"They tossed me into the lowest part of Tol Dagor, a prison. Considering I was not let out or saw anyone aside from my rescuer... I think the intention was to simply let me waste."

Sylvanas slipped into bed next to her. As usual, the grave chill of her flesh provoked an instinctive sense of wrongness , but… it was easily overruled by the conscious desire for comfort from the darkfallen.

"You're going to tell me I shouldn't just send in my airships and blightbomb the whole place, aren't you?" the banshee queen said with a sigh, her tone only half joking.

"I am," Jaina agreed, nuzzling closer, cuddling up to her wife. It wasn't quite like diving into the ocean but... cool was good. Cool was soothing. And Sylvanas herself gave her a feeling of safety... Which was rare. When was the last time she’d felt safe? "We'll go back. One day." She stiffened, "Oh... Anduin!"

"Did you send him a deeply concerning letter as well?" Sylvanas said dryly.

She groaned, "He needed to be informed in case something happened. I didn't want him to think you'd done anything..."

It was literally less exhausting to summon a pen and parchment, have it write out her message for her and send it through a portal then to get up again.

Anduin,

The business with Kul Tiras has been resolved, they are safe but remain closed off. I'm sorry if my message alarmed you.

Jaina.

Sylvanas watched this whole process, her arms still curled protectively around her wife. "Well, he didn't send a fleet, so -"

There was a furious knocking at the door, and Sylvanas sat up sharply.  "What?"

"Lady Windrunner, there's a black dragon overhead!" came the muffled voice of a Forsaken.

Jaina groaned and in the most childish tone she'd taken since she was fourteen she buried her nose against the pillow and whined quietly, "No... Light be damned give me an hour. Just for once."

But there was nothing for it. She shoved the covers back, rolled over to get up and dressed again. A black dragon. Wrathion. But what was he doing here?

"You are staying in that bed if I have to paralyse you," Sylvanas threatened. "I can handle this." She was pulling on her cloak and weapons, not bothered with the outer armour. The leathers would be enough.

Jaina had sat up, stared at her, "It's got to be Wrathion."

"Of course it does, and he's likely here as a favour to Anduin. You still need to rest,” Sylvanas said firmly, before turning to call through the door. “Escort him in and let him land, captain. I’ll be out momentarily." 

"That's ridiculous. And if it were true it'd be better if he could see me in the flesh." She started to get up, intent on getting her clothes.

Sylvanas scowled. "Fine. I'm heading up." She left, heading up to the main deck to greet the scaly interloper.

But it wasn't just Wrathion she found there, surrounded by her troops with a couple of bats overhead. King Anduin Wrynn stood onboard the Proudmoore, apparently having been riding the 'last' black dragon here.

"Warchief,” he said calmly. “Where is Jaina?"

"Below deck," Sylvanas replied lazily. "Coming up, against my advice. Being imprisoned is exhausting."

"Imprisoned?" He frowned deeply, "What happened in Kul Tiras?"

"She was convicted of treason and thrown into a dungeon to rot. Someone helped her escape, she hasn't said who." She folded her arms. "More or less what you feared, given that you rushed here with your red eyed friend. Wrathion. It’s been a while." She turned, gestured. “Back to your posts. Nothing to see here.”

Wrathion had shrunk to his humanoid form, quietly observing, and nodded in response to the greeting. The Forsaken sailors drifted away back to their duties, the rangers overhead climbing to return to their patrol pattern.

Anduin’s frown persisted as he chewed this over, "... All the same, I'd like to see her."

"I told you, she's coming up." The banshee moved forward, prodded him on the chest. "You could do with making your 'auntie' feel more valued," she hissed in a whisper. "She wasn't expecting either of us to come for her."

He looked down and then up at her again, "And what about you? You're meant to be her wife but she didn't think you would help her? At least with me I know some of it is that she still views me as a boy. She won't rely on me like she should."

"Of course. You're correct, how foolish of me," she said, deadpan. "Why wouldn't she expect help from an undead killing machine with her own empire of corpses and a reputation for self interest? Clearly I'm failing in my matrimonial duties."

He opened his mouth, but something over her shoulder caught his eye, "Jaina."

Jaina did look tired. Bags under her eyes hadn't really gone away since Garrosh destroyed Theramore but now... Anduin could see that something bad must have happened. He pushed past Sylvanas, walking over to Jaina, gripping her arms.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She nodded, "Kul Tiras is fine too."

"You look tired. Sylvanas says you were imprisoned?"

"Fortunately for Kul Tiras, she escaped before my fleet entered combat range," Sylvanas drawled.

Both humans gave her looks, Anduin's was a stern frown, Jaina’s was moderately long-suffering.

"I'm sure a diplomatic resolution could have been reached." Anduin started but Jaina interrupted him.

"Not over this... Not with the way they view both myself and the Alliance. Not that starting a war was a good option either..." She glanced at Sylvanas, then sighed, "I'm sorry for worrying you. But I really am alright."

Anduin pulled her into a tight hug, "I'm just glad you're safe."

Jaina didn't cry or get overly emotional, she just hugged him lightly in return. Restrained.

Anduin was right, she viewed him as someone she had to take care of, not someone she could rely on. Not someone she could cry on.

Sylvanas just quietly watched. Letting them have their moment.

But only a moment. "Right. Back to bed, Proudmoore. Your wife commands."

Jaina sighed, "You're not going to let this go are you?"

"You look exhausted. Don't make me use my powers on you. Go. "

Jaina grumbled something that sounded like 'power my ass'. But she turned to Anduin, opening her mouth to apologise again.

"It's alright." Anduin assured, "Go sleep, Jaina." They hugged briefly again and then her wife disappeared back down below decks, a glance over her shoulder towards Sylvanas that was less irritated and more... wanting. But then she was gone.

"Back to the Undercity?" Anduin questioned Sylvanas.

She shook her head. "We're heading to Kalimdor. Did she not inform you? I wasn't planning to bring half the navy, but then Jaina got into trouble."

"I see." Anduin paused in thought for a moment, "Wrathion, thank you for your help, I'll be tagging along with them but don't feel like you have to stay."

"You will? I don't remember being asked for my opinion on the matter," Sylvanas said dryly.

Wrathion shrugged. "I have some business, but... I won't be far off. You know how to call if you need me." He winked, then returned to his true form, taking off in a lazy spiral out of sight.

"I'm following your advice, in fact." Anduin said as he watched the dragon disappear into the clouds again. He turned a calm face on her, "You said I should make Jaina feel more valued. If I simply fly off again just because she's alive what does that tell her?"

"You're on board a Horde warship, boy. You're not a king here except by my allowance. Open your mouth and make a pretty speech that involves asking my permission."

He gave her a flat look, pausing to consider it, "This is Jaina's ship, not yours... And as I've understood it, you don't think well of my speeches." He looked up with a surprisingly boyish smile, "So I'll ask plainly, Aunty Sylvanas, would you mind me joining you on your trip? For a little while at least, just to look after Jaina."

You cheeky brat, Sylvanas thought. But she was amused more than anything, a smirk cracking her usual deadpan expression. "Fine by me. Not sure what the state of the cabins here is, but I'm sure Jaina would be happy for you to make yourself at home."

"I'm glad we've come to an agreement." He nodded, "I know my way around. I'll find someplace to make myself comfortable."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me..." She grimaced, gestured. "On second thoughts, come with me. You should know why we're headed to Kalimdor."

He paused, but nodded, "So this isn't just a standard trip?"

"No." Sylvanas stepped into a cabin, closing the door behind them, and waved a hand. A swell of deathly magic sealed the room.

"The Naga are on the move. And they can shapeshift."

"Shapeshift?" He looked alarmed, "Actual transformation? Not just a glamour?"

"Jaina confirmed it herself. I watched a four armed snake turn into a human woman."

He looked grim, "That's not good news. Do you know what their goal is?"

"No. Getting information out of Naga is like drawing blood from a stone." Sylvanas sighed. "Jaina thinks she can detect them, but it requires a thorough magical examination."

"Even if we conscripted every mage  it would be beyond difficult to check every citizen. But why go to Kalimdor?"

"The Cenarion Circle," she said with a shrug. "Jaina extracted a sample of the magic bound to the spy to show them. Hopefully they’ll have insights, maybe a better means of detection. And Jaina needs to collect liaisons anyway."

Anduin paused, "...Did she talk to you about Calia?"

"Your little secret weapon? The would-be rabble rouser?” Sylvanas said with a hint of bite in her words. “Yes, I intend to meet her."

"She isn't a secret weapon." He said firmly, "She's told me she plans to renounce the throne publicly if it will keep the peace."

"You certainly used her like one." The banshee queen waved a hand dismissively. "But no matter. I want to meet her to see what she really wants, and let her choose between Stormwind and Lordaeron. If she wishes to come home, I'll let her. On my terms."

"You'd turn her." It wasn't really a question and it wasn't something he looked pleased with.

"It's her choice," Sylvanas said calmly. "A painless death followed by being with the people she claims to still care about so much, or a public demonstration that Lordaeron is no longer her home."

He grimaced, "She's already agreed to the latter."

"It's not your choice to make," she shot back.

"It's not yours to enforce!” Anduin barked, his attempts at calm finally breaking. “Why are you so quick to curse anyone with your own affliction?"

"Ah. Yes. Affliction. " Sylvanas sneered. "Tell me, boy, if it had been you as you are now, facing me when I first petitioned to join the Alliance, would you have supported me? Or would you have killed my messengers and rejected me as your father did? "

"You promised Grand Marshal Garithos Lordaeron in exchange for help driving out the dreadlords,” Anduin rebuked, his voice raising. “Then, when you'd won your prize, you butchered him! He may have been a horrid man but you can't blame them for being distrusting on both fronts! And we didn’t kill your messengers!"

Sylvanas felt, distantly, a stirring of half asleep worry, it seemed as though Anduin's shouting was loud enough for Jaina to hear faintly even through the ward she’d placed - or perhaps merely sensed through their link.

Her eyes narrowed. "Lordaeron is the land of the dead now. Garithos would have driven us from it and let us waste away, leaving himself king of the rubble. I chose survival . And if the Alliance didn’t kill the Forsaken I sent, how come they never returned? Maybe you just never knew. I remember those times. It would have been so easy to just slay a handful of undead and think nothing of it. We Forsaken weren’t a force yet.” She leaned forward, red eyes glowing menacingly. “You're going to wake Jaina if you don't lower your voice. Don't make me Silence you."

It was the mention of Jaina more than her reasoning that made him calm himself, "The fact remains, Sylvanas, that from day one you have been taking and leaving deals when and if it suits you. You lack honour and hold nothing sacred. This peace hinges on Jaina entirely for now. And I'm not convinced you won't be the one to finally break her when you choose your people over others." The barb about her missing men… he said nothing to, just shifting a little.

Sylvanas pursed her lips. Silent for a moment. She could tell him about Nathanos, but… no. That was too fresh. And she didn’t feel like humouring this arrogant, naive whelp.

"I don't have to convince you of anything, boy . Just Jaina. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to take care of my wife." She unsealed the room, turning to leave.

Anduin’s hand caught her shoulder briefly, only enough to stop her before he let her go.

"I'm not blind to the fact that you gave her hope. When she came to visit after you'd... finished the rites she laughed. I hadn't seen her laugh in years. Jaina's trusted and been hurt before, many times. But she's no longer the naive girl my father saw her as. It's why I agreed to this. Why I agreed to, at least warily for now, trust you. To answer your question from before... I don't know what I would have chosen. But while I respect my father, I understand he was mistaken about many things. I hope that you and the Horde are among them."

She paused. "If I intended to betray her... I could've ended her already. She'd make a beautiful lich." She offered a humourless smile to indicate it was a bad joke. "You say I hold nothing sacred, your majesty, but you can always rely upon one thing: I take care of my own, no matter what. And right now... there's been too much war. We don’t need another."

He nodded, "Make sure she doesn't conjure her meals for a while. She has a bad habit of ignoring food when she's tired or relying on her magic. It does more harm than good."

"I've noticed. Don't worry. There are actual supplies on the Windrunner ." She glanced over at him, relented a little. He’d given ground. That was more than Varian ever had. "I give you a hard time, Anduin, but I like you more than your father. Perhaps, in time, we can develop from there."

He nodded, then offered a half smile, "If you really want to spoil her, get her a hot, hearty breakfast. More than her sweet tooth there's two things Jaina loves; breakfast food and sailor's pie."

Sylvanas frowned thoughtfully. "...hmm. Good night, Anduin."

She slipped away to the cabin below. Not really needing to sleep, but wanting to be there for Jaina.

Now, how could she arrange a hot breakfast? Ah well. She’d check with the quartermaster. Might have to wait for landfall. At worst she knew she could get something good in Orgrimmar.

Jaina was curled on her side of the bed, not fully asleep, just fitfully dozing in and out. She jerked up when Sylvanas opened the door, "Mmm? Did you see him off alright?"

"He's staying for the journey," she hummed, stripping off and crawling under the covers. "I told him about the Naga."

Jaina blinked but then fell back onto her pillow, "Staying? You didn't chase him off?"

"I didn't try very hard. We had an argument about Calia, but overall we were quite civil." The darkfallen snuggled up, curling around Jaina protectively. "He called me 'aunty' to try and annoy me, it was cute."

Jaina blinked and then snorted, "Well... That's better than really fighting I suppose..." She nuzzled closer to Sylvanas and let her eyes close again, "Thank you for telling him."

"You're welcome." Sylvanas gently brushed Jaina's cheek. Sleep...

Who was this intruder in her life, who she'd chosen over Nathanos? This woman over whose safety she had gone into murderous rage?

Her life used to be simpler.

"I was afraid." Jaina murmured, drifting off, "You’d been with Nathanos so long… maybe he knew something I didn’t… that you really would turn on me, forget me as an inconvenience… that you could never care for someone alive…"

Sylvanas was silent for a while.

"There was a moment,” she replied softly, “when you were dying of the poison, that I wanted to let you. Where his route seemed so… tempting. It’s not like I had to lose you. But I knew you wouldn't forgive me. Not unless you changed so much as to be unrecognisable. I didn't want that. You’re something special, Proudmoore, just as you are. You’re mine now. And you know how I get about things that are mine."

She made a small noise of agreement, "I knew it." She was starting to slur her words badly, seemingly already mostly asleep, "Knowin’ who youare..." She twitched lightly, all but sleeptalking, "I might jus’ fallin love..."

She could feel Jaina's pulse, the heartbeat starting to slow and even with her breathing. 

Sylvanas held her close.

Love.

The idea that someone, anyone, could love her... was... ridiculous. Not like that. Nathanos hadn’t loved her, not really. That had been obsession, possessiveness.

Love was a fool’s game. A cheap trick played upon the living to lure them into having babies. But she was dead. She could remember Anya once telling her that she was the most dead of all the Forsaken. She couldn’t love, and she had no need of being loved.

And yet.

Some treacherous little corner of her soul… still wanted to be loved.  Needed it. Craved it.

Because maybe then… maybe she’d be more than just a weapon. A tool forged by demons and wielded by monsters. Doomed to see her world crumble and die.

She had no tears to shed.  But she silently shook, closed her eyes, and let sleep take her.

Chapter Text

The pair were undisturbed for quite some time. When there was a knock finally Jaina didn't even rouse, still dead to the world.

Sylvanas stirred.  Glanced down at Jaina, disentangled herself and then slipped out of bed.  Creeping over to the door, sweeping a cloak around herself for modesty’s sake. Opened the door a crack.  "Yes?"

The face of Velonara Sunspear, with Anduin behind, met her gaze. Of course it was Velonara who had taken him under her wing. She’d always been an outlier among her rangers, a talented woman who had been one of her favourites in life - although her rivalry with Nathanos had kept her away from Undercity much of the time.

She’d need a new second with the position… open.

"The young King was getting antsy about Lady Proudmoore eating. It’s nearly evening, Sylvanas."

"A day?"  Sylvanas closed her eyes.  "Why wasn't I woken sooner?" Why didn’t I wake up sooner myself?

"Had anything of note happened you'd have been woken immediately,” the ranger assured. “We just didn’t want to disturb your wife.”

The banshee queen grimaced.  "We'll be right out."

She closed the door, slipped over to the bed, gently shook Jaina.  "Wake up."

Jaina grumbled something, trying to curl more under the covers in protest.

"You need to eat something.  You can go back to bed after," Sylvanas coaxed.  "Come on, Jaina."

Bleary eyed and none too awake, Jaina was coaxed into dressing. She didn't look much more awake when they arrived in the officer's galley where Anduin was already seated and a stew had been prepared for them.

"Jaina, how did you sleep?" He asked gently.

Jaina's only response was to sigh, "Still asleep."

"You can go back to bed after," Sylvanas promised again, her tone soft and almost warm by her standards.  It was probably a little odd for Anduin, a side of her that he hadn't seen.  Her softer, more caring side.

Not that even her allies saw that side often.

Jaina nodded with a stifled yawn, "I'm being ridiculous."

"Not at all, Jaina, you deserve your rest." Anduin said gently. He was definitely watching Sylvanas, though he was trying to seem like he wasn't. He stood and scooped out a large portion of the stew for Jaina and broke off a larger portion of bread, setting it in front of her as she sat.

Jaina sighed, "I suppose... Since I don't have to sail the ship..."

"You've had an ordeal," Sylvanas said.  Suddenly resenting Anduin's presence.  She could be more touchy and affectionate if he wasn't here.  Normally she'd just laugh at Jaina's flailing about public affection, but... right now, Jaina needed to be pampered and cared for.

Jaina stared down at the bowl, around the table. She'd taken the Admiral's chair without thinking and Sylvanas's chair looked... entirely too far away. But with Anduin here...

She picked up her spoon and quietly scooped some of the stew into her mouth.

Anduin smiled, missing both women wishing for him to be anywhere else, "You're allowed to rest, Jaina. The world won't fall apart just because you slept during a voyage."

"It tried to once." Jaina grumbled, "It does that. I leave someone to their own devices or rest for a time and the world catches on fire. Or someone dies. It's only slightly less frequent then when I'm not resting." There was no mistaking the bitterness and sarcasm in her tone.

Anduin winced.

Sylvanas shifted.  "Well, you have me on your side now.  Death is a fixable problem."

Anduin frowned, "You don't need to fix death."

Jaina stared at her like she'd grown another head before blowing out a breath with the scant edges of a laugh, "Trading death for undeath isn't really fixing the problem so much as exchanging the problem for a different one."

Sylvanas sighed.  "Evidently I need to work on my jokes.  Although I'd like to remark that you're both very negative."

Anduin frowned more but before he could speak Jaina actually did laugh this time and he looked over surprised.

"I knew it was a joke, love."

Her lips suddenly pressed together, eyes widening where she was staring down at her meal. Anduin's eyebrows had shot up.

The table had become very quiet.

Sylvanas recovered fast, her own slight shift barely noticeable.  "It's a term of endearment, Anduin, no need to look as though a crocolisk was licking your toes.  Jaina and I actually get on quite well, you know."

Anduin looked between them, "It's just... Not one I've heard used casually before."

"It's... A Kul Tiran thing." Jaina added limply.

"Oh, I see. For those you get on 'quite well' with?"

"Yes." Jaina looked like she was contemplating the depth of her bowl and if she could drown herself in it.

"Anduin, are you seriously entertaining the idea that someone would actually fall for me?" Sylvanas drawled.  "Don't be ridiculous.  Jaina has better taste than that."

She wasn't even sure what she was doing.  Covering for Jaina?  Exercising a sudden fit of self-loathing?  Offering Jaina an out?  All of the above?

"Stranger things have happened." Anduin said, suddenly... very relaxed, "If there's one lesson my father taught me, if only by example, is that there is no such thing as 'never'."

Jaina studied him quietly... And then spoke suddenly, flatly, "You're sleeping with Wrathion, aren't you?"

Anduin flushed faintly, "What? No! Where did you get that idea?"

"I hear dragons can be very alluring," Sylvanas mused.  A hint of an evil smirk on her features.  "And you did bond so well on Pandaria, didn't you?"

His blush grew across his cheeks and he put his spoon down, "That is ridiculous, we're merely friends!"

Jaina hummed thoughtfully, "Ah, I see. You want to roll with him, but you haven't moved past the awkward feeling it out phase. As someone who's been with a dragon, a bit of fair warning; they're always going to have more experience than you and they're always going to look down on you a little... But that works if you like bottoming."

"Try not to think about how strange and humiliating that is, given that he's only a few years old," Sylvanas advised.  "After all, dragons are sentient even in their eggs, their minds get around."

Anduin groaned, turning rather red and put his head in his hands, "Can we please not talk about this? He's just a friend, I swear."

Jaina, Anduin distracted by his own embarrassment, reached behind the table, gently squeezing Sylvanas's arm before she pulled away again, "Of course. Just remember that if you need any advice let me know... And that while their full size 'looks' like it would be fun. It isn't. What would you like to talk about instead?"

Anduin looked up and scowled at her, "Well, how about your wedding?"

"Silvermoon's lovely this time of year," Sylvanas opined.  "And an elven ceremony would be fitting."

Jaina soaked a bit of her bread in the stew, chewing it thoughtfully, "Wouldn't it be more fitting to mix traditions? I'm not even sure what an Elvish ceremony entails."

While Anduin had been looking to turn the spotlight back onto Jaina he seemed content with not being the victim of their tag team.

"Personally I'm uncomfortable with a holy light ceremony," Sylvanas said.  "It rarely mixes well with my kind.  But some honouring of the sun, a little ancestral thanks, exchange of vows... high elven marriages are very tasteful.  If a little rigid, I suppose."

"I'm not talking about a holy light ceremony, I'm talking about a Kul Tiran one." She said firmly, "Kul Tirans haven't had widespread worship of the light... In a very long time."

Anduin almost pouted, "What's wrong with the trappings of a holy light ceremony?"

Jaina waved a hand, dismissing the notion, "The wedding might be for Azeroth but it has to reflect us or it's just pageantry without meaning, isn't it?"

"I know still less about Kul Tiran traditions than you do about Quel'dorei," Sylvanas replied dryly.  "Enlighten me."

Jaina smiled faintly, "In Kul Tiras we pay heed to the Tide Mother, the ocean herself really. Our tide sages bind couples together with the blessings of the sea, the earth and the sky. It's hardly shamanistic but there's a reason I could understand the Tauren's belief in the Earth Mother so quickly. Ceremonies are held in view of the ocean, the families and friends, and guests gather. Traditionally there's a bride's side and a groom's side... And if we're getting very traditional there's a ceremonial 'Gunny' for each to protect them from anyone who might try and harm either the bride or groom before they’re wed. They carry pistols, large swords, whatever they like to look the most intimidating and spend the week leading up to the ceremony with the one they're meant to be protecting..." She paused, pondering, "... That might actually be a good tradition to incorporate given the circumstances..."

"I could ask Baine," Sylvanas mused.  "He'd be intimidating."

She paused for a moment.  "Unless we decide to make a symbol of it and ask for someone from the other side."

"That might be fitting." Jaina nodded, "And we probably shouldn't have the same kind of party afterwards..." She winced, "That wouldn't end well probably."

"Well, if we're swapping allegiances, I expect you'll pick Baine.  But I've no idea who on your side would even agree to play bodyguard for me."  Sylvanas shook her head.  "I've never been good at making friends.  I could pick Vereesa, but she's technically neutral, and my sister feels like cheating."

"I'll do it." Anduin interjected, "If that's what you chose to do."

Jaina looked over at him, "Really? Thank you."

Sylvanas raised an eyebrow.  "I'd have thought you'd be too busy."

"Busy with what? Even if it's for a week you will all likely still have to be wherever the wedding's taking place for that time anyway. And besides, if the Warchief can take time off for this, so can the High King."

"True."  She gave a small chuckle.  "And it'll offer some chances for the two of us to speak more.  Two heads of state and all that.  I'm sure we'll have some wonderful arguments."

"I'd rather just get along," Anduin sighed.

"She likes fighting." Jaina hummed.

"I'm good at fighting,” Sylvanas drawled. “And if getting you to actually shout at me earlier is anything to go by, we'll end up fighting even if we don't intend to."

Anduin sighed.

"Don't pick needless fights with your nephew, love." It had been faint... But Jaina had stumbled, paused just a second too long, had to push past her barriers to say it. She tried to continue eating as if she hadn't though.

"It was hardly needless," Sylvanas hummed.  But she let it go, reached out to serve herself a bowl and began eating lazily.  "Regardless... I'm sure that the Kul Tirans and Sin'dorei priests can work out something between them.  I just need to work out how to persuade the orcs that an orcish ceremony simply doesn't make sense, Warchief or not."

"... Ah." Jaina's mood suddenly burst, "... I doubt we're going to have any Tide Sages."

"...you'll reclaim Kul Tiras," Sylvanas said firmly.  "Someone helped you escape, they're not all blind."

"The girl... Her name was Lanira. She said that some didn't view me as a traitor, especially those who were younger but... A few doesn't make a difference if Katherine... If mother has completely rejected me." The mage slumped.

She didn't show it but Sylvanas could feel the sudden explosion of conflicting emotions. anger, despair, bitterness... And a new swelling of that strange discomfort she'd had since she returned, like she was resisting the urge to claw her own skin off.

Anduin reached out, and gently took her hand, "Your mother made a mistake... But I'm sure she'll listen to us if she knew the whole story. You're her daughter."

Sylvanas eyed her quietly.  Something had happened on Kul Tiras.  Something more than mere imprisonment.

"I've told you before.  You're only guilty of taking care of your own interests.  Your father dug his own grave."

What did they do to you, Jaina?

The thought made Jaina look up, a worried, apologetic, exhausted look in her eyes...

She shook her head, "It's never so simple... I've eaten, I'd like to go back to bed."

"You've barely had half your bowl, Won't you eat a bit more?" Anduin coaxed.

Jaina looked down at it like she might be sick.

Sylvanas got to her feet.  "It'll keep.  Come on, Jaina.  I'll tuck you in."

I'd join you again, but... duty calls.

Jaina nodded and stood, Anduin watching her worriedly but giving Sylvanas a thankful nod for looking after her.

Her wife said nothing as they left and Anduin had the good sense to stay behind.

Sylvanas kept quiet until they were once again in the captain's quarters.

What is it that you aren't telling me? she probed gently.

Jaina looked away. Nothing I want to speak about now.

Sylvanas shifted. Then when will you speak of it?  I hold no secrets from you, Jaina.  You know that.  Not even the painful ones.

When I'm satisfied that it's safe to do so. Even like this.

She was picking her words very carefully. Something had frightened her... Or at least shaken her.

"If I'm going to ask Baine to be my gunny... Can Thunder Bluff be one of our first stops?"

Sylvanas watched her for a moment.  Decided to accept it. That question didn’t come from nowhere, perhaps it was connected.  "Of course.  The Tauren are my first choice to examine our magic orb, anyway.  The trolls are still in chaos, and the night elves... well, can you blame me for favouring the Horde?"  She spoke lightly, concealing her worry.

Jaina wrapped her arms around Sylvanas's middle, hugging her tightly suddenly.

Thank you. "It's understandable. We should ask them though, the Night Elves are more familiar with the naga in general..."

"Undoubtedly."  Sylvanas grimaced.  "I just hate talking to them.  Although their, uh... unusual take on armour at least gives you something to look at while they're looking down on you, literally and figuratively."

"... You're terrible."

Working with Tyrande definitely had advantages...

Your mind is just as filthy as mine, dear Jaina.  More so, I barely remembered this side of myself until our marriage.

I've always been like this. It's... A Kul Tiran tradition that women are ravenous. Jaina pulled back with a faint blush.

"You should probably go before I decide to express that part of myself." She smiled, although she was clearly far too exhausted to follow up on the tease.

Sylvanas bit her lip for a moment.  "Yes.  You should get some more rest."

She leaned in, kissed the woman softly.  "Sleep well.  I'll go check on the fleet and keep our guest entertained."

"Try not to needlessly rile him up? Or it's going to be a long two weeks." The mage pulled Sylvanas back down for another brief kiss.

"I won't, I won't.  We just had an argument about Calia.  Nothing special."  The darkfallen smiled a little.  "Good night... love."  Her tone was somewhere that could be sincere or teasing.  Perhaps both.

Jaina smiled, and turned to get back into bed.

***

Jaina slept... And slept... And slept more. She just seemed to constantly be tired, though over the first few days it went from long sleeps to extended naps. She'd sleep a few hours, be up for an hour... And then go back to bed. Anduin insisted he check her over for illness but found nothing except a deep seated exhaustion... So the sleeping continued. She didn't eat much, basically as little as she could get away with...

And she was starting to have regular nightmares. Terrible dreams she wouldn't talk about but occasionally woke up screaming from... And even when she didn't she still would seek out Sylvanas for comfort. But she wouldn't talk about it... Or think acutely enough for Sylvanas to learn more. Her mind guarded even in her stress and fatigue.

Sylvanas, for her part, was spending as much time as she could with Jaina. Anxiety mounting as she tried to figure out what could have shaken her unstoppable partner so much. Her rangers were left to keep the fleet together - a task which she trusted them to do without question. They definitely knew something of the intimate relationship that had formed, and Velonara practically shooed her away.

Anduin was a model guest, seemingly enjoying his holiday from the pressures of being High King - although his own concern for Jaina was everpresent. Much as Jaina had found, some conversations with the rangers had seemed to pull back some of the aura of menace surrounding the banshee queen, and the occasional interactions Sylvanas had with him were much easier than ever before. Needling him was still fun, but… she could see the wisdom in cultivating a relationship with her Alliance counterpart.

But finally the shore of Kalimdor came into view, and a frenzy of activity overtook the fleet, readying for landing.

The landing in Orgrimmar was a little tight. The harbour here had never been huge and possibly the largest man-of-war ever built, with her escorts, would put them a little tight on space... But it was manageable, and finally the Proudmoore was settled in, its bold but faded colours an odd contrast to the reds of the Horde surrounding it.

Sylvanas felt new energy filling her as she crossed the gangplank. The sea wasn’t her realm, and she would finally be able to do things again - which would be both a welcome distraction and a balm to her restlessness. This would be her first meeting with the Horde council since the peace talks. The question was, how would they react to developments?

It would be a mixed bag most likely.

They were met on shore by a squadron of Ogrimmar's elite guard, a smattering of orcs and trolls mostly with a single female tauren among them. Their captain put a fist to his chest as they approached, "Warchief, welcome back to Orgrimmar. High Lord Saurfang and the others have already gathered in preparation of your arrival."

"Throm-ka, captain." Never let it be said I don't make an effort. Ugh, I hate orcish. "King Anduin unexpectedly accompanied us in. See that my ships are resupplied, they'll be returning to Lordaeron in a day or two. Lead on."

Anduin had partially hung back but this announcement rather put the spotlight on him. to his credit he didn't shift as the eyes of a dozen Orgrimmar guards turned on him.

The captain slowly nodded with a grunt. He turned, barking orders at peons to jump to work before they were led away, towards the city gates, the guard flanking them.

She usually drew at least some attention whenever she visited.. But with Jaina Proudmoore and Anduin Wrynn following along with her, just about everyone stopped to watch them prowl towards Grommash Hold.

The escort hung back around the entrance as they entered. In the large central room stood Saurfang in all his grumpy glory. Baine stood beside him, their conversation interrupted, Lor'themar was still back in Silvermoon, but his representative was here, standing with the pandaren Ji Firepaw. There was no sign of Geya'rah, though, the Mag'har orc presumably elsewhere.

Oddly, Gallywix had actually shown his face. The little green blighter was often too busy running his operations and counting his money to show for anything that he wasn't asked for directly... but here he was, looking excited.

They all turned towards her as she entered.

She gestured around. "Welcome to Orgrimmar Jaina, Anduin. Under more... pleasant circumstances than last time. My friends, once more we are united," she said, addressing the Horde leaders, with varying degrees of irony.

Saurfang grunted. Grunting was a time honoured orcish tradition which was difficult to translate. The grunt of insubordination and the grunt of whole hearted approval were almost indistinguishable to anyone who wasn't an orc.

"Throm-Ka, Warchief."  Saurfang nodded, "Why have you brought the King of Stormwind here?"

"He requested to travel with me and view our glories in the spirit of peace." Sylvanas glanced at Anduin with a half smile, but it faded. "And there are matters to discuss that also concern the Alliance."

She stepped forward, settled into the grand, fur covered throne of the Warchief. Slightly dwarfed by it.

"What news of Kalimdor?" she purred.

Hmm. There's room on this thing for Jaina to sit next to me…

That's hardly appropriate, Warchief. Jaina had been quiet, she and Baine had exchanged nods but she'd waited, like the guest she felt like.

For how much she'd slept on their journey she looked only moderately more rested then when Sylvanas had recovered her.

Gallywix opened his mouth to speak but Saurfang cut him off, "Nothing of public note, Warchief." He eyed the two humans with a grunt, "We continue as we have in your absence."

Even Baine looked hesitant to object and speak openly about whatever it was Gallywix was practically vibrating to bring to the table.

Sylvanas pursed her lips. She could overrule him, but... better to know what was up. "Take a walk," she told the two humans. "Give them an escort, captain. Orgrimmar can be quite the tourist trap. Enjoy the sights."

The captain that had remained saluted them, turning and grunting at the two humans. Jaina glanced at her, not accusing but concerned.

Call if you need me.

Of course. I’m sure it’s nothing. Trust will take time. Sylvanas forced herself not to trail her gaze after Jaina as she left. Staying focused on her council.

As soon as they were out Gallywix couldn't contain himself, stepping forward on his cane, "Warchief, a while back some of my people found something really interesting. I thought it was a kind of fluke... But then we found even more in Silithus."

He stopped, holding out the cane itself for her inspection. The sphere on its head was... odd. Glowing.

"Seems like when we kicked the Legion their boss left us a little parting gift. It's all over Silithus."

Chapter Text

Sylvanas took the cane. Examined it. "I'm not a smith, Gallywix, explain." Her tone was flat, but… she felt a stirring of excitement and dread. An instinct that this… this was important.

The goblin just grinned as his eyes glinted. Letting her make her examination.

The orb on the staff was resonating... Something from inside it called to her... a feeling, as though hearing someone crying.

She brushed her fingers over it. Closed her eyes.

It almost reminded her of Saronite. Crystalline rather than metal, but it had the same… strangely alive feel. Her mind clicked, making the connections.  "Silithus is where the world was stabbed. This is Azeroth's blood?"

"We've been calling it Azerite," Gallywix grinned wider. “And you would not believe the properties on the stuff. Alloys with it will make the strongest, sharpest, toughest weapons and armour out there. Infuse it into black powder and you create an exponentially stronger boom. And that’s just what we’ve tried. Warchief, this is gonna be huge .”

But Sylvanas was struggling to focus on what he was saying. Still feeling the crystal vibrate in her palm. Power. Incredible power. Waiting to be unleashed but...

There was something else, something lurking behind that power. Something that begged for protection.

It felt a little like the flutter of Jaina's heartbeat the night that she'd chosen that she'd wanted to protect her, rather than turn her, but rather than in her chest, it was in her hands.

She pursed her lips. "Who else knows about this?"

Just a few weeks ago she would have been gleeful. An insanely powerful resource placed in her hands, one that could offer an incredible edge over the Alliance. Now... she felt uneasy. Even knowledge of this material could rip open the fragile ties made. And the sense of misery radiating from the little sphere, which not so long ago she would have ignored…

"Nobody who isn't in this room and a couple of my personal engineers,” Gallywix said dismissively. “The people I got mining it don't wanna know as long as they're getting paid. They think it’s just fancy glowy crystal."

Sylvanas cast an eye around the room. Trying to gauge the mood. The potential for a new kind of weapon... right when peace was within grasp.

"It could be a great asset to the horde." Gallywix really didn't give a toss about the Horde particularly and didn't press on with the play acting, "I wanna talk about exclusive mining rights."

Saurfang looked irritable, although there was nothing new about that. But it was Baine that spoke.

"Warchief. This is the blood of the Earth Mother... It cannot be treated like some product for Goblin stores to sell."

The Banshee Queen tapped the arm of her throne rhythmically. "I don't share your superstitions, Baine. But I'm inclined to agree. This material could produce some devastating weapons, and we don't need escalation. There is also a security concern."

Gallywix clicked his tongue, looking like he’d swallowed a toad. Evidently not expecting her to be casting doubt. "You gotta be kidding me. We all know it's only a matter of time until the Alliance gets back on their high horse. How many times have we all been there? And when they turn on us wouldn't you rather have some weapons they ain't even heard of?"

"We need to believe in peace if there is going to be peace. This will never end as long as we catastrophise and cast visions of doom over the future." Sylvanas leaned forward. "My hypocrisy here is not lost on me and does not need to be commented upon," she added with an edge in her voice. Fuck. I used to be at the head of the warmongering, as bad as Alleria or Genn. Now I’m trying to change course. I trust Jaina… but do I trust the Alliance? No. I can’t think like that.

Gallywix looked her over, looking for an angle... But didn't see one, "Glad to hear you're so happy in your new marriage. Congrats and all that."  He held out his hand for his cane with a mutinous sneer.

She didn't return it. "I'm not a fool, Gallywix, I know your interest and motivation. I also trust your security methods about as much as a rabid ghoul. This matter is not closed." She gestured to the various guards. "Leave us and seal the room. There's something you all need to know."

The guards did as told, a moment later leaving them in silence.

Saurfang watched this happen before he turned to her. "Warchief?" he growled.

"Undercity has been compromised," Sylvanas said bluntly. "My agents revealed a number of spies and informants. When we tracked down the one they reported to... it was a Naga. A Naga who could shapeshift to appear human. And not just human."

Saurfang bore his teeth. Baine frowned deeply.

"Naga have learned such magic?" Saurfang growled, "How did you find it if it could change its form?" She couldn’t tell if his irritable tone was doubt of her story, or hostility towards the idea of naga infiltration.

"My Rangers simply pulled threads until she fell out of her web,” the darkfallen replied. “How she stayed hidden was a mystery until Lady Proudmoore examined the snake and forced out whatever twisted nature magic she used to change."

She leaned back. "I'm sure the implications are not lost on you. We can no longer trust to the usual precautions to keep our secrets."

"Does the Alliance know this?" Baine asked, his tone troubled..

"Aside from Lady Proudmoore, I confided in King Wrynn on the journey. Whatever else is true, nobody benefits from Azshara meddling in our affairs." Sylvanas scanned the room, hoping she wouldn’t get any pushback on that.

Baine nodded, "This is grave... But if Jaina can tell what sort of magic they used perhaps she can teach that knowledge to our shamans and druids. The Night Elves too, would be invaluable in this moment."

"We must first take care of our own, Baine." Saurfang cautioned.

Gallywix butted in as well, "We got Naga with weird powers all around us and you don't want weapons, chief?"

He had a point, much as she hated giving a goblin any kind of credit, especially this goblin. "I'm not ruling it out," she corrected Gallywix. "But your security could be infiltrated, as could the guards here. That’s a disaster waiting to happen if the naga find out about Azerite and manage to steal it and turn it on us. At minimum I want to visit Silithus before we take any action. Baine, I can do you one better; Jaina managed to extract a sample of the naga’s magic to show to people. It seems to be… implanted into them somehow."

Baine nodded, "We should ask Jaina to test a few of our mystics so they can see about learning its secrets."

Sylvanas was still holding the cane, the orb in her hand... the pulsing of power... She was starting to hear something... whispering, distantly, distracting her from the discussion.

She frowned. Focused on the whispering. Glowering at the stone. Yes? I don't like whispers in my head.

The talking of the leaders around her started to fade... And the room started to dim except for the light of the Azerite...

And distantly she felt Jaina, speaking with Anduin, felt her like she was standing right next to her, felt her outwardly speaking pleasantly in stilted, rusty orcish, the captain correcting her... Felt her internal worry, having felt something odd from Sylvanas...

Sylvanas could feel something odd in her as well.

Somewhere a child began crying in pain and fear... Jaina seemed to hear it too, turning towards her unseeing...

A voice echoed in her head. Not Jaina’s. Male, rough, accented. Familiar. This? This is the one you want?

"Warchief!"

It was as though she'd drifted off, fully awake, Baine had a hand on her shoulder, shaking her, he'd taken the cane from her hand, it must have snapped her out of the trance, "Sylvanas!"

She blinked, jumped. "That's far more than a weapon," she muttered. "I want real magic users to look at it. I'm here. It just gave me... strange visions."

Baine looked her over, "Should I call a healer?"

"No. I'll be fine." She grimaced. "How long was I out?"

Baine took a step back, "Just a moment."

Saurfang had moved to the door, opening it and barking for someone to fetch a mystic.

Almost immediately he had to jump back as the doors flung open, Jaina looking around wildly until her eyes locked on to hers, "Sylvanas!"

Saurfang barked angrily, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Let her through," Sylvanas said, waving a hand tiredly. "You saw it too? I wasn't sure. Lock it up again," she added to Saurfang.

"I don't know what I saw." Jaina walked towards the throne, climbing the steps past Baine and putting a hand on her shoulder, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. But your return is fortuitous, I was explaining the Naga situation." She placed a hand on Jaina's for a moment. Grateful to have the woman back.

She should explain the Azerite. But... she needed a moment to gather her thoughts.

Gather them and suddenly wonder if she truly still had the best interests of the Horde at heart.

She hated this position.

"Oh.." Jaina looked her over worriedly but nodded. Sensing something was up, but… it wasn’t like she hadn’t been keeping her own secrets.

"You discovered a way to tell them apart?" Baine questioned, attempting to move the conversation along.

"Yes... Though the technique is crude. It would be easier for a druid, I think. I was hoping that they could learn from from the sample I took. You still have it, right?” Jaina added to Sylvanas.

Sylvanas patted her belt. “Hasn’t left my side. We will need to consult the night elves at some point as well, of course. They are the experts on the naga. As I recall, Azshara and her slithering hordes have always been dedicated purely to the arcane, but... if that has changed, then there are great dangers at work."

That vision made no sense... too fragmented. And why did I hear… Magni Bronzebeard. That’s who it was. Why am I having visions of that damn walking crystal?

Magni? What caused the vision? Jaina probed gently.

"What about the Nightborne?" Offered the Silvermoon representative, "We've remained in contact with them since Suramar was retaken... Perhaps they can assist us as well?"

"Suramar has had some recent dealings with Azshara, it's true,” Sylvanas mused. “Ones where she supposedly appeared as an elf, no less. Perhaps whatever power let her do that... she's been teaching to her children."

She made a snap decision.

"Baine, show her the Azerite."

Baine held up the cane a little cautiously, Jaina tilted her head, "Azerite?"

But her eyes locked onto it alarmingly the moment she saw it.

The mage picked up the cane, "These energies... What is this?"

That rash of discomfort emanated off her again even as she tried to force it away.

"The blood of Azeroth, crystallised," Sylvanas said. “The goblins found it in Silithus.”

Stealthily she checked her underlings. She suspected she was straining their loyalty somewhat.

Baine at least was on board. Saurfang looked... Intensely displeased... The room was a bit tense in general.

"Worldsoul... From where Sargeras's sword pierced the planet?" Jaina hovered her hand over the orb before she finally touched it.

They both seemed to hear a shrill, fearful scream like a glacier shearing off violently and the orb of Azerite cracked, suddenly going dark.

Jaina may have screamed as well from the looks on everyone's faces as she collapsed onto her knees.

Sylvanas surged to her feet, stumbled a little.  "What did you do? " she demanded.  An odd surge of protective anger rushing over her, before she moved to Jaina's side.  "Are you all right?  What happened?"

"You're paying for that!" Gallywix squawked in alarm.

Jaina was heaving for breath, "I don't... I don't know. I was just trying to get a feel for it... Who screamed?"

"You did." Baine knelt, taking the cane away from her.

"What is this madness, Sylvanas?" Saurfang growled.

"I'm amused that you think I have all the answers, Saurfang," Sylvanas bit off.  "Best that we keep you away from further samples, Jaina."

Are you all right?  It sounded like something was... scared.   She offered a hand up.

I don't... I don't know. I felt... Drawn to it. Jaina took the hand but needed more than that. Her legs were shaky, she looked like a vampire had just sapped her for all she was worth.

"I think I need to..." She fainted forward. She had already been ragged... This appeared to be just a little too much.

Baine immediately called over his shoulder, "Send for a healer!"

When Saurfang did not move, Ji did, going to the door and making the call.

Sylvanas eyed Saurfang coldly.  Oh, they were going to have a talk.  One that would not be fun.  She didn't even care that she was cradling Jaina's insensate form publicly.

"She's been unwell for a while," she said shortly.  "The journey was a stressful one."  Not feeling like raising the matter of Kul Tiras here and now.

Baine frowned, worriedly, "Perhaps this Azerite reacts poorly to the arcane."

But it wasn't just a small squad of shamans and such that burst in. Geya'rah came with them, dressed for riding, blood on her axe, "Warchief. I was patrol-" She'd pounded her chest in salute but frowned at the sight before her, "What has happened?"

The head shaman approached gently, a troll, "We'll be takin' good care of her Warchief." She held out her arms to take Jaina.

"Geya'rah," Sylvanas said with a tired smile. Finally, an orc I actually like.   "I fear you arrived at a moment with much action and few explanations."  She held Jaina out to the troll with only a hint of reluctance.

The older woman took her, bringing her down the steps and laying her out gently, the three shamans getting to work in a soft glow of green light.

Geya'rah looked around, "Was she attacked?"

"She was overpowered by a crystal of Azeroth's blood." Saurfang supplied, "Why she was allowed in here in the first place and why she was allowed to know about the Azerite though... You'll have to ask Windrunner."

Baine stood again with an irritable snort.

"You are referring to my wife , Saurfang," Sylvanas said coldly.  "I'd watch your tone. And the chamber is no longer closed, quiet about the crystal."

"Your wife who has been a threat to the Horde in the past even after Garrosh was brought to justice," he growled, "Who forced her way in this chamber, destroyed a fragment of Azeroth merely by touching it and has you playing host to the human boy-king! Where exactly do your loyalties lay, Warchief ? Are they with the Horde or with this woman?"

Geya-rah gripped her axe, baring her teeth at Saurfang angrily, "Watch your tongue!”

Sylvanas rose sharply to her feet, patience exhausted.  "You don't want to go down this road, old man.  I'll answer you privately or publicly, your choice."

"I don't think I'm the only one concerned how taken in by Proudmoore you've been in the few weeks you've been married," Saurfang snarled.

Geya'rah growled, "She is still your Warchief. If you had concerns you should have asked them respectfully. Any good leader would treat their mate as they would their people but perhaps you've been without one so long you've forgotten that!"

Saurfang rounded on her with a snarl and Geya'rah dropped her axe, ready for the fight that was threatening to erupt. This woman was not a mindless loyalist... But unlike Saurfang she stuck to her principles.

"How taken in I've been?  I haven't even seen you in the flesh since before the marriage you spit on so casually, Saurfang," Sylvanas said dangerously.  "I grow tired of your agitation, old man.  It feels like only yesterday you were railing against my plans for war.  Just admit to us all the truth, that you despise the undead and think that only an orc deserves the title of Warchief."

"We've heard enough from Baine. Had Vol'jin named Baine Warchief like he should have I'd have had no complaints! You on the other hand are without honour or-"

A dark brown fist collided into his face. So taken off-guard was he that he stumbled back from Geya'rah's attack.

"Then stop talking and invoke the Mak'gora!" the Mag’har barked, vibrating with rage.

Sylvanas eyed him with a poisonous smile. Furious but… her anger was as cold as the grave, as was her tone.  "Without honour?  What honour is that, Varok Saurfang?  The honour of one who hid in a hole rather than challenge Garrosh Hellscream, even after warning him about his misdeeds?  The honour of a man who proposed to me the use of siege weapons to terrify night elf civilians into surrender at Darnassus?  The honour of a relic with no principles left, only a death wish and a legacy they cling to like a shield?  If that's honour, Saurfang, then you're correct.  I have none."

The second accusation... that was information she hadn't shared before with her council. Knowing such violent terror tactics would meet with resistance. But for once… they hadn’t been her idea.

She'd given him the choice of public or private.  He'd made it.

Baine looked back at her sharply, " What? "

The chamber was echoingly silent after the outbursts. Sylvanas had to restrain a smirk of triumph.

But Baine looked furious . " Explain, Saurfang!" He took two steps back down to the circle and towards the old warrior who stood his ground.

"Sylvanas discussed the fact that Stormwind was too well defended to fall…” Saurfang said with a dark glance at her. “She asked me to come up with a way to divide the Alliance, starting with the night elves. I theorised threatening Teldrassil... But only to apply pressure! Never to use!"

Geya'rah spat on the floor at his feet, "Disgusting.” It wasn't entirely clear if she found the threatening of civilians or the lack of followthrough more abhorrent. Sylvanas suspected the latter.

Baine took another few steps towards him. Baine wasn't easy to rile, but when he did... Well, there was a reason people warned of a tauren's rage. Baine was a prime example.

"Never to use?"  Sylvanas gave a sharp laugh.  "You're an orc , Saurfang!  When has an orc ever made an empty threat?  You knew when you placed those catapults in the battleplan that they might be used.  A last resort, a means to break a stalemate, whatever the purpose... they might be used, and you placed that plan and those weapons in my hands. Apparently uncaring of what I chose to do with them.  I suppose we'll never know now, will we?"

Baine stood in front of him. A young man standing in front of one of the older men in his life. Almost a father figure. Someone he respected.

And in a voice even colder than her own, said one word. " Leave. "

Saurfang looked at him, around the room. Geya’rah’s contempt, Baine’s fury, Gallywix trying to keep a low profile… and the Banshee Queen herself gazing at him.

He turned, walking out of the chamber.

Sylvanas watched him go.  Silent.

Then she moved over to Baine's side, touched his arm lightly.  "We have not always seen eye to eye, Baine.  Sometimes it seems like we rarely do.  But I respect you.  I respect anyone who stands by their principles."

Baine took a breath, but he was still bristling with anger, "... Jaina told me about Nathanos. That you had the opportunity to move ahead with your plans for war but instead honoured your pact with her. You have made grievous mistakes in the past, Sylvanas, but Geya'rah is right. You are still my warchief." He looked down at her, "If you prove to be the monster many fear you are... I will do what he would not. Unless that happens I am yours to command."

"If it does come to a fight between us, Baine, then I will happily fight you in the open.  And I won't even raise your corpse."  The darkfallen glanced at him.  "...nobody ever finds that joke funny."

Baine snorted, "The funniest thing about it is your terrible sense of humour," he agreed. The tension in the room easing slightly.

"Warchief." the troll shaman called, "Can I speak to you?" She and the others had been working throughout, trying not to attract attention during the confrontation.

Sylvanas gave a soft, rueful laugh.  Patted the tauren’s arm, moved over to the shaman.  "What have you found?"

The other two continued to work on Jaina and the woman moved away, speaking to her in quiet tones, "She will survive. Wit enough time and rest she'll be alright but... She is not well, warchief. Her mind is a mess... De spirits writhe just tryin’ to tell us what she has been t'rough. Dey cannot get t'rough to her spirit. De last time I saw sometin like dis it was bad Fel magics... But she ain't got de fel taint on her."

The Warchief grimaced. Oh Jaina…   "She was recently imprisoned and went through some ordeal, but... she has yet to tell anyone what happened.  She's done little but eat and sleep for the last two weeks."

"If de spirits are dis agitated it's sometin powerful in de work... Dere is sometin else." The troll held up her hand, on one large finger was... a scale? It was white and pearlescent, delicate but... not small, "I found dis in her hair. Never seen a fish dis colour tho."

Sylvanas picked it up.  If her organs still worked, her stomach would be twisting.  "She was on Kul Tiras.  There are strange stories of them and their sea goddess."

"I can feel her wrestlin’ wit sometin. But I can not tell you what it be... But if it came from de sea I suggest you take her somewhere as far away from it as possible. Dat might weaken it's grip on her."

Sylvanas nodded.  "Baine?" she said, waving him over.  "We'd been planning to come to Thunder Bluff anyway.  Now... Jaina's health might depend upon it.  Saurfang's departure will have lit fires in Orgrimmar that I need to put out.  Can I ask you to take care of her until I can follow?"

Baine nodded, "Of course. She'll be well cared for among my people." Whatever their differences, Jaina’s wellbeing was something they could agree upon.

"I will go wit ya, if you don't mind, better to keep an eye on her." The shaman offered. Baine nodded again.

"Good." Sylvanas straightened. Felt in her belt, held out a small bag to him. “Guard that closely. Show it to the shamans when you think it’s safe.”

Then she turned to where Gallywix was slinking back into view and recovering his ruined cane.  "Don’t leave in a hurry, Gallywix, we haven’t finished our discussion.  Geya, come with me.  We should talk."

Geya'rah had picked up her weapon again, moving to follow her. Baine delicately picked up Jaina and the shamans followed him out, casting a wary look back at her before vanishing from sight.

The Mag’har spoke up as they slipped into Sylvanas’s private chambers, away from eavesdroppers. Garrosh’s monstrosity was ugly, but it had its uses. "I'm sorry for speaking for you... That old bastard has been getting to me since we came here."

"You wear your heart on your sleeve, Geya'rah, it's refreshing,” Sylvanas said, turning to face the woman. “And it's good to know that at least one orc understands the bigger picture."

"I don't know that I'd go that far,” Geya’rah grumbled. “There's still a lot about Azeroth I don't understand yet... But If there is no discipline, no order in the ranks we might as well not bother calling ourselves aligned.”

"It's close enough for me."  She shook her head.  "The Horde has been fractured for a long time now.  In many ways it never healed from the legacy of Garrosh.  Vol'jin did his best, but he had to spend much of his time holding it together, while his own people suffered and struggled.  My own elevation to the position has hardly been without controversy.  My concern at this point is that the orcs of the Horde may break apart.  Whatever we may think of Saurfang, he is a symbol. They’re running low on them. Thrall off on his farm, Garrosh a monster, Grom long dead."

"A poor symbol. No wonder he cracked if that pressure was on top of him." She grunted derisively, crossing her arms, "If it were just orcs I know what I would do... But Trolls confuse me. And Tauren aren't much better. And that’s to say nothing of your kind and the elves."

"The trolls... are an ongoing problem.  The Tauren I trust in Baine's hands."  Sylvanas leaned against a wall, looking at Geya'rah.  "What would you do with the orcs?"

"With only orcs? I would personally challenge Saurfang's leadership now.  Publicly put him into his place if not outright kill him. It would also remove him from being a symbol of anything more than what has passed. Even Azeroth's orcs understand the importance of a Mak'gora."

"Agreed," the darkfallen said.  "But some would say it isn't my place.  The Horde has always been divided by the ocean.  The Kalimdorian Horde and the Lordaeronian Horde are very different places.  Do you believe that they would react well to their foreign Warchief challenging their leader?  And if I won, where would that leave the orcs?  Bereft of direction entirely?"

Geya’rah snorted, "That's why I didn't say you should. I said I should. I'm at least the right breed for all but the stodgiest of purists."

Sylvanas smiled.  "I'm glad we agree, then.  You have my blessing to deal with him and give him the death he's been seeking for so long."

The orc sighed, "A good leader knows when to step down... I wonder when the last time he thought of anyone but himself." She tapped her chest, "I'll see to it. Better you aren't there."

"Agreed."  Although some part of her would be sorry to miss the show.  "When it's done, I will gladly welcome you to my council in full. Lok'tar, Geya'rah."

Sometimes I wonder just how awful orcish in a thalassian accent sounds to them.

Geya’rah made no comment on her accent, just nodded. “It took some getting used to. The idea of a tiny pointy-eared dead woman as Warchief. But you’ve done well by us so far. Safe travels.” Then she left.

***

Baine had already left by manticore with Jaina, wanting to get her to Thunder Bluff as soon as possible. With no further opportunity to say farewell, Sylvanas returned to the ships.  Gazing moodily out to sea for a while, before she shook herself.  Jaina... what has happened to you?

She gave orders for her troops to arrange for kodos and wolves for the journey.  It'd be slower than flying, but… much as she hated being parted from Jaina, she didn’t feel able to commandeer that many flyers.  A handful of personal guard and rangers would accompany her on the journey.  She instructed the captains to take the fleet back to Lordaeron once they were resupplied; the Proudmoore would be there for the return journey, and portals were an option if speed was required, but she felt uneasy leaving the Forsaken's coastline so undermanned.  Perhaps she should have sent the escort back after Kul Tiras, but... she'd been feeling paranoid.

She still was, in truth.  And as she felt the aggressive, unpleasant needling of separation go through her as Jaina left her behind... it put her in a morbid temper.

Anduin was finally returned to her by a long suffering looking Orcish Captain just as they were finally prepared to leave on the journey.

"Where's Jaina? I was told she was with you."

Sylvanas straightened.  "Her condition... worsened," she said in a low voice.  "She was exposed to an artefact that she reacted badly to, and fainted.  The shamans who examined her said she needed to get away from the sea, so the schedule was moved up.  Baine has already taken her on ahead to Thunder Bluff.  I'm organising my affairs before following."  She placed a hand on his shoulder.  "You can remain with me if you wish.  Alternatively, there are trustworthy folk I can send you with who'll escort you north to Ashenvale."

The human frowned, worried, "No. If she's gotten worse then I should stay, see to her. "

"Very well."  A thought struck her, and she gave him a small, almost mischievous smile.  "Tell me, King Wrynn, have you ever ridden a kodo before?"

"Uh..." He paused, "... No?"

"It's not something you'll soon forget.  Find a seat, I have some final business in the city."  She paused.  "I shouldn't be long, but uh... I'd advise against leaving the company of my guards.  Orgrimmar might become a little... heated for a time."

He looked ready to ask but refrained, only nodding and letting her go.

Sylvanas headed back into the main city.  Eyes peeled.  Geya'rah was right, her being at the mak'gora would send the wrong message, but... she'd know when it was happening.  Orcs weren't quiet about this kind of thing.  In practice, she wanted to deal with Gallywix before leaving.  Goblins weren't patient.  So she headed over towards the goblin embassy to track him down.

"And get my zeppelin ready! We're heading home!" She could hear him barking demands before she'd even entered the place... Obviously displeased about how the day had gone, little green men and women scurried about as she entered.

"Leaving already?" Sylvanas said.

She wasn't looking forward to this.  But the goblins were part of the Horde too.  A useful one.  And she knew what it was like to feel neglected and ostracised by the Warchief.

Gallywix rounded on her, obviously irritated, holding up his cane, "You come to pay for it? This stuff's valuable, I hope you know."

"Of course," she replied.  Lightly tossing a pouch to him.  It was a simple enough peace offering.  "Come on.  Let's find somewhere quiet to talk business."

Maybe she could find someone less odious to take over the Cartel as well... though she wasn't holding her breath.

The goblin caught it, feeling the weight of it and grunted, "... Alright, let's talk in my office." He slipped the pouch into his pocket as he led the way into the back of the embassy, closing the door behind her.

"What can I do you for, Warchief?"

"Azerite," Sylvanas said.  "Make me a proposal.  What's your plan of action?"

Gallywix paused, glancing back at her, before he hopped up onto his chair, grin back in place, "I knew you'd come around... I want exclusive mining rites to Silithus. In return I'll sell ya as much Azerite as you like a reduced price."

"We both know that you'll sell to anyone who'll buy it, though, right?"  Sylvanas folded her arms.

"Course I will." He chuckled, "That's just business. But I'll be charging out the nose for it, for everybody but you."

"I'm a pragmatist at heart," the darkfallen elf replied calmly.  "But I have my concerns, and not just security.  I'm willing to consider giving you those mining rights.  But as we just found out, it can be rendered inert.  Do you know why?"

"No, I got a lot of people working and mining this stuff already, lots of passing hands. Nobody's seen this stuff fizz out... Ain't seen it give anyone visions either," he said seriously.

"I don't want a goblin warranty on this, Gallywix," Sylvanas said, with a hint of an edge in her voice.  "Before I agree to those mining rights or buying it from you... I want actual research done, and not by your cut-price mercenary sorcerers.  And as for selling to others... if I find Azerite weapons in the hands of the naga, you will not enjoy our discussion."

"Hey, listen." Gallywix stood up in his chair, not even half her height still, pointing a finger at her while he leaned on the desk, "That ain't business, that's suicide. I ain't stupid, you know!"

He thudded back, "Yeah, I'll get you your research, and you, you keep Proudmoore away from my Azerite."

"That I can arrange.  Just remember, the naga can look like normal people now.  So take a little care, hmm?  I'll visit your operation when I can.  I'd like to see this for myself."

Trying to stop Gallywix from getting on this would be a nightmare, she reflected.  At least she could bully him into doing it responsibly.  And the Horde could benefit from it.

Now she'd just have to sell Baine on that angle. And convince herself that she wasn’t making a horrible mistake. That ghostly sobbing running through her mind again.

"Anytime, I'll give you the tour personally," Gallywix said cheerfully. His previous ill temper vanishing at the prospect of all the money to be made.

As she was leaving the embassy, though, a voice called after her, tiny and harsh. A female goblin rushed up to her, "Warchief! You dropped this!" She held up a small pouch, the girl was panting from trying to catch up, leaning on her knees. She looked like an engineer of some kind, belt covered in tools, clothes greasy.

Sylvanas frowned. As she bent down and grasped the bag, the goblin rose to meet her. Specifically to whisper into her ear, "It ain't true. I saw someone fizz out the Azerite once before."

Inside the bag were a small handful of  mined, unrefined shards of Azerite, all grey, many cracked.

The Banshee Queen gave a tiny, dry chuckle.  "Why am I not surprised?"

She knelt properly, as though checking her boot for a stone.  "Talk fast, girl.  What happened?" she murmured.

"Just one of the miners. He came in off the zep to replace the ones getting their off time. I didn't know him. Everything's fine until he's mining... I didn't see it directly happen but the miners I talked to said he went to pick up the fragments he'd scraped off and screamed, there was a small explosion and he was blasted to pieces. Caused a big scare. Gallywix may not even know, the overseers hushed it up to keep workers from panicing or demanding hazard pay."

She put her hands on her hips, "I gotta go before this looks suspicious, If you wanna know more you can find me in Silithus. Names Nazzy. Chief Engineer Nazzy."

"On your way, then."  Sylvanas kept fiddling with her boot for a time after Nazzy left for the look of the thing, chewing this over.

Then she rose and started heading back to the caravan.

The group was ready to go when she arrived, the small herd of Kodo arranged to take them happily grunting away. Her escorts mounted up on some rather unhappy looking wolves, who were definitely wishing they had anything but undead on their backs, along with a squadron of assorted orcs, trolls and tauren forming the trade group that they were accompanying.

Anduin looked terribly small and desperately uncomfortable on the huge pack beast, but… it was that or walk. Sylvanas nimbly leapt up to her seat beside him, stowing her pack.  "You think it's bad now, wait until they start walking.  Or running.  Move out!"

The young man gave her a look, "They can't be that bad, I'm sure I'll get used to-"

His words were cut off by a yelp as they started to move.

It wouldn't take more than two days to reach Thunderbluff on these creatures... And blissfully the journey was mostly pleasant and uneventful.

Anduin did get used to it... but only because he just got used to being uncomfortable.

Chapter Text

Sylvanas found herself... actually enjoying the trip.  Oh, the wide plains did induce a touch of agoraphobia, the kodos moved in a way that seemed intended to jar her bones, and being cut off from Undercity made her paranoid.  But there was a kind of peace, an idyllic feeling that reminded her of her living days, out on long patrols, with nothing but the horizon and her companions.  She even had her rangers by her side still.

More trees there, of course.

And the various villages they passed through tended to be wary, a group of undead and a human being somewhat out of their usual experience, even with the trade caravan they were accompanying... but they were hospitable enough.  Orcs and tauren both made good hosts in their own ways.

When they arrived at the base of the great mesas that were home to the Tauren capital, it was heading into afternoon. The guards there saluted, unsurprised, as the Banshee’s group approached, "Chief Baine and Lady Proudmoore are waiting for you."

Sylvanas felt something touch her mind, and looked up with sudden eagerness.  Two days of separation… she’d pushed the subtle longing aside, but to have the other half of her soul within reach again…

Jaina?

"Thank you," she said, sliding off the kodo.  "Welcome to Thunder Bluff, Anduin.  This is your first time, no?"

Anduin nodded, "It is..." He was shielding his eyes, looking up towards the top of the bluff.

The reply was faint, they were still fairly far away, but she heard it. A very faint, anxious, I'm here.

We're at the gates.  See you soon.   Sylvanas’s thoughts were... far too eager. Separation had been harder than she’d realised.  "It's a simple place, but no less beautiful for it. A little open for my taste, but… not everywhere can have trees, I suppose.”

"It's old, isn't it? It's impressive they could build a city on top of a place like this." The High King seemed actually kind of eager to see it.

The Highmountain seemed to have been settling in comfortably among their cousins and there wasn't such an intense air as when they'd arrived in Orgrimmar... Though people certainly stopped to look. Sylvanas had only been here a couple of times before, and a human here was very unusual.

Baine was waiting for them at the longhouse on the high-rise, his honour guard around but unperturbed, even with Anduin's presence.

"Warchief, welcome. And to you, King Wrynn. He stepped aside, gesturing into the chief's tent properly.

"Baine," she said, inclining her head with a faint smile.  "It's nice to get off the road."

She slipped inside the tent, eyes darting to seek out her... wife.

Jaina was settled by a fire, the troll shaman who had been healing her before next to her, they'd been speaking quietly, her hand in the older woman's. The troll looked up and Jaina followed her gaze.

Despite the fact that she was in full view of the outside since tauren didn't believe in doors for some ungodly reason, Jaina shot up to her feet, all but ran over and collided with her, hugging her tightly, profound relief washing through her.

Sylvanas practically lifted her off the ground, hugging back.  Set her down again after a moment.  "...that mage bond thing is rather intense, hmm?" she said, weakly trying to cover.  "How are you feeling?"

Jaina cleared her throat, nodding, "Better... Okande and Baine have been taking good care of me." 

She did look like she had a bit more colour back in her face.

Or she was just blushing. That was easily the most public display of affection they’d had.

"I'd like to know what happened." Anduin said from his place next to Baine but the Tauren shook his head, "There will be time for that later. For now... Jaina needs more rest." He made a 'shooing' motion at the mage, "Warchief, can you make sure she stays down? She was just complaining this morning that she's rested enough despite Okande's warnings."

"De girl is stubborn, dat is true!" Okande laughed, "But dat's a good trait for de mate to any Warchief."

"She's easily a match for me in stubbornness," Sylvanas said dryly.  "Come along, Jaina."

It'll give us a few minutes alone together... she coaxed.

Jaina nodded. Despite the stoic face, as she led the way back to the space she'd been staying... There was a nervousness to her thoughts.

This tent lacked a door but did have a drape of coven cloth in front of the arch leading in. It was little more than a guest space for visitors, a fur bed, a small fire pit, a few decorations, there wasn't much else here. Though a small collection of bottles sat on the floor next to the bed.

"Okande's been feeding me all sorts of concoctions at all hours of the day. They're not pleasant but they seem to be helping." Jaina sat on the plush fur rug.

"Not pleasant but seems to help... that sounds like a good summation of troll medicine," Sylvanas said, settling on the bed.  Pulling Jaina into a gentle kiss.

Jaina sighed, relaxing against her a moment before pulling her back and down onto the fur.

I still don't really know what happened... I'm sorry I don't have any answers yet.

Sylvanas didn’t resist. I've got Gallywix researching it.  Not that I'll take his word for anything.  And I know for a fact that that's happened to someone else.   She cuddled up gently.  I'm glad you're feeling better.

I'm glad you're here. Jaina didn't hesitate to cuddle in tightly, wrapping around the darkfallen.

I think... I can tell you what happened in Kul Tiras now. I think it's safe enough here. Like this.

Sylvanas stiffened a little, opening her eyes. Finally the answer to what had been tormenting her partner.  Brushed her fingers on Jaina's cheek, her red-eyed gaze intense and searching.  Tell me.

The mage was silent for a long moment, Please... promise me something first?

Anything. The response was automatic, instinctive, but Sylvanas was too focused to dwell on that realisation.

The parts of this relating directly to me... They have to be kept secret. I think you'll understand why when I explain. But you can't tell anyone.

Sylvanas was silent for a time. Thoughts whirling. I promise. Unless it'll bring harm to us somehow.

Jaina sighed, nodded... And then concentrated.

My father was Daelin Proudmoore... But I discovered that Katherine Proudmoore, the woman who raised me... Was not my mother.

The banshee gazed at her. Puzzled. Then who?

The Tidemother.

Sylvanas stared. ...the Kul Tiran ocean deity?

Jaina nodded. She visited me. I thought it was a trick or some kind of new torment from the sages... But she made it very clear just how true it was.

She focused as best she could and Sylvanas was treated to a hazy image, the memory of Jaina looking down at her own hands, covered in white scales, tipped in claws, the itch of her neck, the writhing of her hair...

But she told me something else. She gave me a warning that might explain why the Naga have become active and gained new abilities. N'Zoth is on the move.

Sylvanas sat up. Reached into a pouch, her expression thoughtful. Pulled out the white scale. ...when you collapsed. They found this in your hair.

Jaina blinked at it, ... The Azerite must have brought it out somehow... The Tidemother said she'd 'restore' me when it was safe to do so... But N'Zoth was watching her closely. She took a risk even coming to speak to me or send the young Tide Sage to break me out.

Sylvanas looked away. Troubled. We know of three great powers in the ocean. Neptulon, Azshara and N'zoth.

Jaina sat up as well. Yes, those are the major powers... The Tide Mother isn't talked about anywhere but Kul Tiras.

Sylvanas brooded for a moment. Feeling the old, familiar instincts of paranoia getting to work. If she fears N'zoth then she may be under his sway. It would explain Kul Tiras's hostility to the outside world. She may have good intentions, but the Old Gods are very good at warping those.

"I know that," Jaina suddenly snapped... But almost immediately deflated.

Why do you think I've been having nightmares? How much of what I've done might have been influenced by an Old God sowing chaos? I don't hear whispers but... She looked down at her hands, I'm not human. And I don't know what that means.

Sylvanas softened. Wrapped her arms around Jaina. Welcome to my world. You know all about my fears of being used again… She gently drew Jaina into another kiss. Relishing her taste and warmth all the more for missing it. I'm just worried for you. My first priority is and always has been me and mine. You might be alive, but... you're one of mine.

Jaina relaxed against Sylvanas. There was a neediness in her kisses. Not quite a woman clinging to comfort... But definitely clinging to Sylvanas specifically.

Honorary Forsaken... I'm sure the Alliance will be thrilled to hear about it.

The mage shifted, sliding to straddle Sylvanas's lap, wrapping her arms around her neck.

I should hope so, I don't give that label to just anyone. The Banshee Queen gave her a twisted smile.

She held Jaina close. Sighed softly. "You should rest. I'll check on you later, ok?"

Not that she made any move to stand.

"You're an idiot if you think you're leaving right now,” Jaina grumbled. “I slept without nightmares and I'm feeling better than I have in weeks... You're staying right here." She leaned in, kissed her, trying to use it to push her back onto the fur.

"I... I am the Warchief and I have duties..." Sylvanas said unconvincingly. Slowly being dragged down.

"I think we can agree that we both enjoy our 'wifely duties' too much to ignore them..."

The living woman kissed along Sylvanas's jaw, unusually gentle.

"Besides... Even though we were on that ship together it feels like I haven't actually seen you in weeks..."

Sylvanas hummed softly. "Likewise. You were so locked away and I didn’t know what to do about it. I even found myself eyeing up Geya’rah."

"Geya'rah... The Mag'har orc leader?" Jaina sounded calm but... That comment made something in her gut sour.

"She's a firecracker." Sylvanas kissed her. "I’m teasing. Am I not allowed to look, Lady Proudmoore?"

"If I told you you weren't... Would you actually listen to me, Windrunner?" She ran her fingers through Sylvanas's hair, lightly stroking along the length of her ears.

"Yes," the darkfallen said. Tilting her ears into the touch.

That made Jaina pause, "... Really? We specifically said we wouldn't... Police each other's love lives. I have no right to ask you to do that."

"I'd do it because you asked nicely,” Sylvanas replied simply. “Not because I'm obligated to."

Jaina blushed faintly... But then grinned teasingly, "Who said I'd ask nicely?" This kiss was much more hungry.

"Well, that'd be different," Sylvanas teased. Nuzzled into her neck, nipped lightly.

The mage gave a soft sigh as she stretched her neck to let her wife have it, "Oh no... I better be sweet then."

"You'd get bored," Sylvanas purred. "You're just as bad at sweet as I am."

"I can be sweet... For the right person." Jaina pulled back, sitting up, grabbing Sylvanas's hand and lifting it, kissing her palm.

"You're saying I'm the right person?" the banshee replied. Tilting her hand with a soft sigh.

"You're the first person I've wanted to be sweet to in... a very long time," Jaina admitted softly, nuzzling against Sylvanas's palm.

"What about that dragon of yours?” Sylvanas asked. “He seemed to follow you like a puppy. Not that it stopped him from voting against you."

"The last person I felt like being sweet to was Arthas," she put bluntly, "Before he called it off so we could focus on our duties. And I'll be honest, before he became a fully fledged paladin and the plague hit... He didn't deserve my sweetness the way he acted." She leaned down kissing Sylvanas briefly, "... You do."

Sylvanas gave her a wide eyed, surprised look. Then kissed her passionately. Thank you.

Jaina hummed against her mouth, sliding her fingers into Sylvanas's hair again.

Her wife may have discovered that she wasn't human... But her senses certainly acted like it. She didn't notice the faint sound outside the door, the scuff of a foot on dirt.

Sylvanas, however, was no human, and her hearing was sharper. She paused. Opening her eyes. Shhh. There's someone outside.

Jaina froze.

There was a very soft and short 'shh'. Two people. Jaina heard that at least.

... They told me to lay off on using my magic for a while while I rest. She did not seem particularly pleased to be complying with that.

I'll handle it. Oh, and cover your ears.

Sylvanas’s features faded into darkness as she took banshee form. Then she flew from the tent with an angry scream. If these were enemies, then they'd be in serious trouble. If they were merely nosy people, they'd get a painful lesson in the form of ringing ears.

Both Baine and Anduin clapped their hands over their ears with cries of pain, stumbling away from their hiding places next to the door.

…I should’ve known. Sylvanas settled to the ground, coalescing again into her corporeal form. "Really? How old are you two?" she said, more amused than angry.

Both men were still wincing, rubbing their ears, "We simply came to check on Jaina..." The king offered lamely.

"Well, we've discovered what can unite the Alliance and Horde. Being peeping toms. OUT !"  It wasn't a full scream, but it would hurt.

Anduin paled and Baine's ears flattened. Both of them high-tailed it like boys, distantly she heard laughter as they disappeared back into the chief's tent. Sylvanas couldn’t help a snort of amusement as she slipped back inside.

... Mood wreckers. Jaina grumbled.

The Banshee Queen crawled on top of Jaina, nuzzled her neck. At least they're getting on.

"Of course they get along." She wrapped her arms around Sylvanas, and despite her sentiment before she immediately nibbled on the elf's ear. They can get on somewhere else. Right now I'd like to be getting on with you.

I've got on top of you, how's that for a start? Sylvanas teased. Mmmm... you really like my ears...

Jaina chuckled, I like a lot of you. Carefully she drew her tongue along the underside of her ear.

Sylvanas gave a soft moan. "Sometimes..." she murmured, "the way you touch me... almost makes the numbness go away."

Jaina's heartbeat stuttered and she traced little kisses back down her ear again until she reached her mouth.

If I could keep it away I would.

This was getting altogether too far into emotions that the banshee wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with. "I'm not sure this qualifies as 'resting'," Sylvanas teased softly. Snark, as always, was her best tool.

Jaina pursed her lips and glared, "Sylvanas, if you don't get naked in the next thirty seconds, I'm going to 'relax' by pushing you off of the plateau."

"...you do realise I can fly, right?" Sylvanas drawled with a mischievous smirk.

"If I was trying to kill you I'd have other ways of doing it." The mage grabbed her breastplate, yanking her down and kissing her demandingly.

The temptation to wind Jaina up more was definitely there, but… feelings were unwelcome, lust was not. Her own desires were kindled now, and she kissed back needily, hands moving to start releasing the straps and buckles on her armour.

Jaina helped as she was able. She wasn't wearing anything quite so elaborate herself, her less armoured but no less layered attire traded in for a simpler pants and shirt to help with the heat of Mulgore.

Every inch of skin Sylvanas freed was welcomed with a kiss. Despite her demanding grasp earlier she was still being surprisingly gentle, hot kisses, little suckles... Her desire to show her wife sweetness wasn't limited to one heat of the moment apparently.

Sylvanas didn't know what to do with sweet. She'd never experienced sweet before, even when she was alive. As she settled back, kicking her boots off and then cuddling up again, even her dead, sluggish body flushing a little. It was... nice. She just couldn't feel it as well. The numbness she'd spoken of was literal as well as metaphorical.

But she didn't want Jaina to stop.

Jaina's mouth was her primary tool for now, her hands either busy gently gripping Sylvanas to hold her in place or stroking gently over her skin...

I wonder... Can I try something? She looked up curiously.

The last time you tried something you shoved quite a lot of ice inside me. What this time?

Nothing like that, Jaina replied. It's just a spell I know. This isn't exactly what it's meant for but it shouldn't hurt you... And it might make you feel a little less numb.

She reached up, cupping Sylvanas's cheek, "No is fine, it just... came to mind."

A small hesitation. "...go on, then."

Jaina nodded, pressing her palm to Sylvanas's chest, over where her heart should be. Warmth spread out across her like she'd plunged into a hot bath, warming her through to the core. It wasn't painful but she was warm enough that Jaina felt cooler to the touch now.

She dragged her fingers along Sylvanas's skin, slowly trailing the underside swell of her breast, "... I figured that the numbness is partly the magic of undeath but... The cold isn't helpful either. Any difference?"

The banshee shivered a little. Nodded. "A little better. Maybe that's why I love your warmth." She arched into the touch a little.

Jaina hummed with a smile before she finally cupped the flesh, rolling her nipple gently under her thumb, the other trailing down her side, over her hip, "I'll get you a hot water bottle the next time I have occasion to get one."

She leaned down, laying siege to Sylvanas's lips with a slow, burning kiss.

Sylvanas kissed her back, mewling softly as Jaina abused her nipples, the nubs slowly swelling and tightening. "That... could be nice..."

Jaina chuckled... Then the sneaky hand she had moved away a moment ago to steady herself over Sylvanas slid up her inner thigh, "I never get tired of your noises..." She slipped a finger along her damp labia, a little less sweet and a little more teasing... But it didn't last as she pressed inside, avoiding her clit entirely as her middle finger sank into Sylvanas's pussy.

The darkfallen swallowed a whimper. Trying to keep herself quiet, aware that there was little privacy here. "S-sound is my g-gift," she managed through gritted teeth. Her hips rolling a little, her normally cool passages now hot, warmed by the spell.

Jaina kissed her briefly, meeting the roll of her hips with a second finger, both starting to immediately pump in and out of her, "It is... My luck that I got to discover there was more than one way that you could scream."

Her head ducked, taking over for her fingers on Sylvanas's nipple, flicking her tongue over the nib.

Sylvanas clutched on to her. With the spell warming her, the lewd, wet noises from below and the soft whimpers... she almost seemed alive. She almost felt alive. A shallow imitation of life, but.. nevertheless. You like my screams? she thought through her lustful daze. I won't be able to hold one back if you keep going...

"Just don't deafen me please." She said as she let go of one nipple. Immediately she latched onto the other the same warm suction mixed with firm, gentle flicks. She hooked her free arm under Sylvanas's waist so she'd be supported in a perminent arch, so Jaina could comfortably keep fucking her while her palm rubbed into Sylvanas's clit.

"I haven't so far..." the elf managed. The pressure on her clit was a magic ingredient, and she gave a soft cry of need, rolling her hips as best she could. Humping against Jaina's fingers, hands running through the woman’s hair as she offered wordless sounds of encouragement. She was close now...

Jaina hummed happily, finally letting go of her nipples, moving to rest her forehead against Sylvanas's as her fingers continued to work, "Beautiful..." She kissed her briefly, muffling a soft cry, "Just sink into it... I've got you, love."

The undead woman held back.  Quivering, trying to make it last,  but her control broke quickly with a long squeal of pleasure that definitely carried.  Her body twitching and her inner passages pulsing in imitation of life, in a strange kind of sexual heartbeat.

Jaina worked her a little through it, helping her to ride it out as long as she could without overdoing it before she finally pulled her hand free and kissed Sylvanas softly, "Alright?"

Sylvanas shivered a little.  Nuzzled at Jaina.  "I take it back..." she breathed softly.  "You can do sweet."

"Just don't tell anyone... I'm not sure they'd believe you." The mage chuckled and moved to the side, laying next to Sylvanas. It was really odd, seeing her breathe and twitch and... everything. Sometimes it was like she was alive and then her chest would halt and the illusion would be broken.

She wasn't honestly sure what to think about it even now.

"Was that alright though? Not too... sweet for you?"

Sylvanas rolled over, wrapped an arm around Jaina.  Kissed her softly.  "No.  It was... it was nice."

Jaina cuddled closer, "Yes... It really was." She nuzzled closer, closing her eyes and giving a soft sigh of contentment.

Sylvanas closed her eyes as well.  Holding Jaina close.  Letting the high slowly fade.

"...of course, any deniability about us fucking has now gone down the drain," she said after a moment.

"... I have bigger problems than if people know that we sleep together,” Jaina said flatly. “And Genn isn't here to call me a traitor or something even more offensive... And I very much doubt Anduin is going to tell anyone he listened to me get you off."

"True."  Sylvanas shifted a little.  "I'm not worried on my account. You’ve just always been very keen to keep our… depth of connection private.  The orcs, tauren and trolls are rather more... sexually liberated than most of the Alliance, from what I've seen.  Grumpy old fools like Saurfang aside."

She pondered this.  "They say you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but I've never really seen why."

"I don't think that saying counts about the undead, love,” her wife chuckled.

"I meant Saurfang," the darkfallen said casually.  "He's probably dead by now."

Jaina opened her eyes, pulling back, "What? Why? Did something happen?"

"After you passed out, Saurfang went after me for disloyalty to the Horde.  Geya'rah was furious, Baine disowned him after I pulled some skeletons out of his closet, and last I heard... Geya'rah was planning to declare Mak'gora and claim leadership of the entire orcish nation, with my blessing."

Jaina  chewed her lip, "That's... I caused that?"

"You were the final straw.  Saurfang and I have been one step away from active enmity since I was confirmed as Warchief." Sylvanas sighed, staring up at the fabric above them. “He’s never forgiven the undead for taking his son. Even though Dranosh was already dead before my separatists attacked at the Wrathgate, I think he personally blames me for that too. I tried to make peace offerings, to make him an ally, but he turned on me at every opportunity.”

Jaina grimaced but rested her head down again, "... Will they accept a foreign orc as their leader?"

"They should,” Sylvanas mused. “She's developed a following.  And orcs respect strength and passion, and she's got plenty of both.  I strongly believe that she might heal the rifts formed amongst orcs ever since Thrall stepped down."

"I've never spoken to her directly... I guess I'll be meeting with her instead of Saurfang..." The mage shook her head, closing her eyes, "A problem for later. I'm supposed to be resting."

"Yes," the darkfallen hummed softly.  "You are."  She kissed her softly.  "I should go back to talk to Baine, get the news and let people take a look at that orb you obtained.  But I'll be back later."

Jaina nodded, "I'm sleeping less but... Some of these potions knock me out whether I like it or not."

Stroked her cheek softly, "I'll show them how I figured it out later if need be."

Sylvanas reluctantly sat up, beginning to get dressed.  "At least we'll be sharing a bed again," she said with a small smile.  "Sleep well, Jaina."

Jaina nodded, "It'll be especially nice since you're usually so cool. This heat's just within tolerable range."

She watched Sylvanas, too lazy to move up and lay across the thing properly... Not that it mattered, the bed was laid out for Tauren, even sleeping on it sideways she wasn't in danger of dangling off.

The elf began working on the buckles.  Glanced up, smiled a little.  "I'll return the favour tonight," she said teasingly.  "Something for you to look forward to."

Jaina snorted, "Is that so? Go on, I'm trying to rest or something."

Sylvanas collected her bow.  "Goodbye, Jaina."  She blew a kiss, and then exited the tent.  An unmistakable spring in her step as she headed back towards the chieftain's tent.

She found Okande, Anduin, and Baine all sitting around the fire. The old shaman was looking incredibly amused, Baine looked as though nothing had happened despite her reprimand, and Anduin looked... distinctly uncomfortable.

Sylvanas settled down in the gap.  "I'm not sure whether you're more uncomfortable with discovering that the Forsaken can have a sex life, that you were listening in on someone you practically consider part of the family, or being revealed to be a peeping tom," she said dryly to Anduin, a slightly evil grin on her features.

Anduin winced, closing his eyes, "... The first two. The third is an unfortunate misunderstanding. I wasn't exactly under the impression that your relationship was so... Close."

Sylvanas paused for a moment.  Shrugged.  "It was necessary, to begin with. Ritual purposes. We simply discovered that it was… a lot more pleasant than either of us feared," she said tactfully. It was true. If perhaps not entirely forthcoming.

Anduin eyed her but nodded, "I... suppose that's your choice."

Baine snorted, "Certainly sounds like you were enjoying it."

"She's... quite experienced."  Sylvanas flushed very slightly, which for the undead was the equivalent of being beet red, not expecting Baine of all people to start teasing her. She hoped nobody noticed. "Regardless. To business. News is hard to come by on the road, Baine, any word come from Orgrimmar or Silithus?"

Baine frowned, "Orgrimmar... We've received two messages from them, one from Geya'rah, the other from Saurfang. Both asking us not to interfere in orcish business. The most I was able to get from each messenger before they returned was that Orgrimmar has come to all but civil war over the fact that Geya'rah challenged Saurfang and Saurfang dismissed her. From Silithus I have heard nothing."

"Saurfang... Saurfang dismissed her?" Sylvanas said.  She'd probably have choked if she still needed to breathe.  Vivid images of just quite how volatile Orgrimmar must be right now flashed through her head. For an orc to refuse a Mak’gora was unbelievable. What was he thinking ?

"Saurfang always viewed her as having potential but looked on her as inexperienced, not fully fit to her position, let alone a greater one. I thought he had a point at the time... Considering how fresh to Azeroth they still are..." Baine shook his head.

Okande took a drag on her pipe, "Best to let de orcs sort demselves out. Getting in de way only ever makes more problems with their kind."

Sylvanas grimaced, rubbing her forehead.  "The orcs have been 'sorting themselves out' since Garrosh was put on the throne.  The last thing I need right now is to have them dissolve completely into chaos."

"Geya'rah's had de spirits whisperin’ about her. She's come from hard times but she's gon do some good for de orcish people we tink." The old woman let the smoke out in an amused chuckle, "It barely been a few days, let dem sort it out for a week, you’ll see, she gets it done for ya, Warchief."

Sylvanas had learned long ago that trolls were irritatingly vague and laid-back... when they weren't being murderous psychopaths... but their gut feelings were worth listening to. It was odd to consider that she used to dream about wiping out their entire race.

That trauma had been quite thoroughly overwritten by others.

"I don't have the time to go back to Orgrimmar anyway, not right now," she grunted.  "Baine, Okande, have you assembled some people together to examine that orb of magic?"

Baine nodded, "I have it well hidden. The Cenarion circle as well as others have come forward to the call. We were waiting on you and for Jaina to rest a little longer so she could vet the first few and explain what she knew."

"I can explain what she told me and what I saw," Sylvanas said.  "We shouldn't delay for long, not with the risk of infiltration. Give Jaina a few hours, then… we should get this resolved."

Anduin hummed, "I'll stay long enough to figure out how to detect them... But I've already been away nearly three weeks. I have to return to Stormwind."

"It shouldn't be difficult to get you to Ashenvale and the Alliance," Sylvanas said mildly.  "At least you'll be back in contact.  I haven't heard any angry or suspicious messages demanding to know where you are yet, so at least they're not frantic."

"The rest I'm not concerned about. Genn however..." He shook his head, "I have a faster means of getting home, but thank you, Warchief."

“Ah. Yes. The mutt.” Sylvanas stared at the fire broodingly. “At least my stubborn old man is set to die soon.”

“Genn is an old ally and was a good friend of my father,” Anduin replied chidingly. “He’s a good man. He just… is set in his ways.”

“He’s locked into a blood feud and a mindless quest for vengeance,” Sylvanas growled. “Take it from someone who went through that journey once. It brings no peace and only serves to destroy everything around you, piece by piece. He tried to doom my entire people and I’m willing to leave it be, but one accidental killing of his child and he can think of nothing else.”

“You shot Liam Greymane in the chest,” Anduin frowned. “How is that ‘accidental’?”

“I was aiming for his father. He got in the way. Accident.” Sylvanas stood. “I’m going to take a walk.” Suddenly she didn’t feel like discussing it any further.

Anduin continued to look like he’d bitten a lemon, but he nodded, letting her go.

“Is she always that cold?” he asked Baine quietly - although not quietly enough that her elven hearing didn’t catch it. “Or just with me?”

Baine snorted. “You know her record, Anduin. Do I even need to answer that? But she has a point.”

“She got deep feelings, dat one,” Okande opined. “She’s a lot more dan just anger and violence. But she got plenty of dat too.”

The rest of the discussion faded behind her, and Sylvanas stalked along the streets of Thunder Bluff aimlessly, ignoring the way she was given a wide berth by the locals. Suddenly finding herself at the edge of the plateau. Brooding a little.

Damn Greymane.

“Copper for your thoughts, General.”

Sylvanas stirred, looking up. There was only one person who still called her that. “Velonara.” She gave a small smile as a trio of her rangers padded over to join her. “Anya, Kalira. Just had to deal with the boy king defending Greymane.”

Kalira rolled her eyes. “You know, if you want me to try and assassinate the old wolf, the offer’s still there. We’d all be better off.”

“I’ll bear it in mind,” Sylvanas snorted. “You three been enjoying Thunder Bluff?”

“Not as much as you,” Anya snickered.

The rangers all burst into laughter at seeing their queen squirm. “Come on, General,” Velonara said, shaking her head. “We’ve all known you and Proudmoore have been like dragonhawks in heat. You haven’t been subtle.”

Sylvanas sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose. “If you’ve all been gossiping about me behind my back…”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Anya chuckled. “You’re allowed some fun, Lady Windrunner. Sun knows we don’t exactly find a lot of people willing to chance taking a roll in the sack with a dark ranger. Unless you’re Velonara.”

It was Velonara’s turn to sigh. “Look, Moorgoth and his fanclub was just weird.”

“You still took him for a spin,” Kalira pointed out.

“ Once ,” Velonara protested.

Sylvanas smiled softly, listening to them banter. Realising it had been a while since she’d heard her fellow rangers anything close to relaxed and cheerful. Velonara with her optimism and dedication, Anya’s wicked sense of humour… even the murderous little monster Kalira was smiling for once.

Then again… when was the last time she herself had felt anything other than cold, ruthless efficiency?

“Besides,” Velonara was saying, “Maybe if you all lightened up on the brooding and talked to the living instead of glowering at them, you’d get more interest. Maybe that’s why Sylvanas raised me. It wasn’t because she couldn’t do without my bow, she needed someone to lighten you all up.”

Sylvanas shifted slightly. The reminder that of all the rangers, including herself, only one had been raised as Forsaken, never subject to the Lich King, always left her feeling a little odd. Velonara had been mortally wounded in the fighting for Quel’thalas, but had managed to escape to be buried, hidden away from Arthas… until Sylvanas had raised her instead.

Velonara had never complained about having her eternal slumber disturbed, but… in retrospect it still felt like a betrayal. Walking back on a promise that the woman would get to rest, just so she could have another soldier.

“What do you all think of Jaina?” Sylvanas asked suddenly.

Kalira shrugged. “Seems to have a brain inside her skull, at least. More than I can say for a lot of humans. She took the story about Mira pretty well.”

“You told her about Mira?” the Banshee Queen asked, frowning.

“She was antsy after the thing with… y’know. Blightcaller.” Kalira shrugged awkwardly. “Cyndia thought it might convince her the rest of us would never do anything like that.”

Sylvanas sighed. It made sense. Even if Mira Shadewither was another sore spot.

“I don’t think there’s many people who’d be able to keep up with you,” Anya opined. “Or who’d be worthy of you.”

Sylvanas threw Anya a Look. “Very funny.”

“I’m actually not joking for once,” Anya said with a smirk. “Sure, you’re deeply fucked up, but aren’t we all? Pretty sure that means we’re allowed to want someone who will actually do us some good. Proudmoore’s certainly been good for you so far. And judging by the noises earlier, at least as good with her fingers as me. Care to comment?”

“I really don’t,” Sylvanas said in long-suffering tones. She trusted Anya even more than most, had been long-time comrades with her, had even had a couple of flings in the wild when they were both much younger and less dead… but that came with the price of Anya being a smartarse.  “What about you, Velonara?”

Velonara Sunspear tilted her head, smiled. “I’m reserving judgement. You haven’t been together long.”

There was definitely something else in those red eyes, but… Sylvanas suddenly didn’t want to probe.

She had a horrible feeling it’d start stirring those emotions she had filed away under ‘not now’.

“I will say that she’s at least tried to understand you, understand the Forsaken,” Velonara said after a pause. “Which is more than most among the living.”

Sylvanas went back to staring out over the plains of Mulgore. Something chewing on her that… suddenly seemed like a safer topic. “I need a new second in command,” she said abruptly. “With Nathanos… gone.”

Looks were exchanged.

“There’s been some… discussion on that,” Velonara said delicately. “Nobody wanted to broach that with you. It all seemed a bit… raw.”

Darkness seemed to form around Sylvanas for a moment as a surge of bitterness and anger swelled up, before she swallowed it down. “That’s a word for it,” she grunted.

“He got what he deserved,” Kalira said harshly.

Anya gave her comrade a look before turning to Sylvanas, lightly touching her arm. “Forget him,” she said. “Focus on the future. The past is a chain to hold us down, you’ve always taught us that. What matters is what happens next. Who were you thinking of?”

Sylvanas shifted, relaxing slightly. Anya was the obvious choice, likely the expected one, but…

“Sunspear. The job’s yours if you want it.”

Velonara blinked. “...what?”

“If we’re going to try peace… maybe my lieutenant should be someone who will ‘lighten us all up’,” the Banshee Queen said dryly. “You have one less burden than the rest of us. We need to find a way to move forward.”

She glanced at Anya, about to speak, but Anya beat her to it. “Thank the spirits, I was worried you were going to make me do some actual work,” the ranger snarked. “I’d rather be one of your arrows than a bureaucrat. Good luck with that, ‘Nara.”

Velonara hesitated. “I don’t exactly have a lot of authority. I’m the most junior here. You didn’t even make me an officer until the invasion. And I’ve been out of favour for years.” The unspoken remark of 'because Nathanos and I didn't get on' hung in the air.

“You’re a dedicated and capable woman,” Sylvanas said impatiently. “You know how to talk to people. You’re one of my rangers. That’s all the skills and authority you need.”

The darkfallen closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded. “...very well. I accept.”

“Good.” Sylvanas sighed. “I’ll need you to return to Undercity then, soon. The only leadership they have is the Desolate Council, and, well…”

“I’ll do what I can to keep things running smoothly,” Velonara promised.

Sylvanas pinched the bridge of her nose slightly. “All right. I’m out of excuses. I should go deal with Anduin again.”

“I could assassinate him, too.”

The Banshee Queen shook her head with a snort of laughter. “Shut up, Kalira.”

Chapter Text

The light was fading, but not quite gone, when Sylvanas found herself by Baine’s fire once more. Her rangers had once again slipped away to find their own ways to pass the time - and in Velonara’s case, process her new rank - so she was alone as she settled again.

There had been some conversation occurring between Baine and Anduin, seemingly on the topic of kodos, but it died. Anduin giving her a sidelong look. Okande was just smoking peacefully, seemingly unconcerned.

Sylvanas raised a hand concedingly. “Not here for a fight, boy. Perhaps I reacted too harshly earlier. Greymane is a touchy topic.”

The high king relaxed. Smiled ruefully. “I can understand that, at least. Light knows I feel myself bracing for impact if your name is ever spoken in his presence.”

“Did you enjoy your walk?” Baine asked mildly.

“Cleared my head a little,” the Banshee Queen replied. “We should probably get to this magic business, though. Jaina’s likely vibrating to do something, and the sooner we can spread word about the naga… the better.”

Baine nodded, "Okande, could you see to Jaina? Make sure she is well enough to assist us?"

The old woman tapped out her pipe into the fire, "I'll see how she is. Maybe doin’ a little sometin will get her to behave."  The woman chuckled in amusement, heading out the door.

“You ought to get the orb, Baine,” Sylvanas said.

The tauren chief got to his feet, lumbering into the depths of his hut. A minute later, he emerged, holding out the little bauble of twisting green magic. Sylvanas pocketed it.

Anduin shivered a little. “It was bad enough when we had dreadlords infiltrating our ranks. Now anyone we know could be a snake in disguise? The question is, how? Surely we’d have known already if this was an existing power of theirs.”

Sylvanas shook her head. “I’m hearing… rumours,” she said, deciding not to specify from whom. “N’zoth is stirring. Some endgame or other in motion. Maybe Azshara is finally starting to play all her cards. She’s certainly never been fully committed to any of the grand wars we’ve seen in recent years.” She gave a short, humourless laugh. “Grand wars, plural… I can remember being ranger general and being bored . I miss boredom.”

There were weary nods from both men.

Okande poked her head back in, "Ya, she's rarin’ ta go whenever ya ready."

***

It was a motley array of a dozen or so trolls, tauren and orcs who were assembled in the main hall. All looked a little confused and worried - unaware of why they had been brought together, but sensing it was serious. All of them veteran, skilled workers of shamanic and druidic magic. Many casting curious looks at the presence of both Jaina and Anduin, not to mention Sylvanas.

Sylvanas took the plunge. “I need you all to take a look at something. You both represent traditions that are sorely underrepresented in Lordaeron, and you might have insights into something that could be a grave threat to all of Azeroth.”

Now she had their attention. “My soldiers managed to find a naga that had somehow been hiding itself in our midst, spying. When I asked Lady Proudmoore to examine the snake, she found something she couldn’t identify - but when forced, it made the creature shapeshift. It became human. And then a kaldorei, an orc… anything.”

A ripple of horror spread through the room. “A true shapechange?” someone asked. “Not a glamour?”

“No,” Jaina said, stepping forward and holding out her hand to Sylvanas, who placed the orb in her hand. “A glamour I would’ve seen through. This was something else, not arcane. Her shape definitely altered. I realised that it wasn’t a native power or a learned spell; this -” She raised up the orb. “- had been grafted into her being. Extracting it unfortunately killed her. I hoped that someone with more expertise in nature magic might be able to explain what was going on. But… first I do need to make sure that you are all what you appear to be.”

Okande cleared her throat, and Jaina gave the troll a baleful look. “Or at least, test a few of you, and show you how to conduct your own tests,” she conceded.

Jaina carefully vetted three of them, and only three... Mostly because Okande was looming over her shoulder like she was going to yank Jaina's ear and drag her off to bed again if she stepped over the line. Although an arcane examination was naturally going to be very different, the group seemed to get the idea quickly, and after a few minutes confirmed that they had no infiltrators.

Jaina finally held out the orb again. “Any ideas?”

She stepped back as the crowd of druids and shamans gathered to examine it, magical energies swirling to life as they began their analysis. Anduin also stepped forward, gently probing the orb himself.

Sylvanas slipped over to Jaina's side, quietly watching the show.  “Enjoying getting to do something for a change?” she murmured.

Jaina nodded, "Okande's already cut me off from doing more... She says I've been abusing my magic like a goblin works his child.' She sighed.

The darkfallen hummed softly, switching to their telepathic connection.  Perhaps your magic is in flux after your... revelations.  Although you do rely on your magic quite heavily.

Jaina frowned, ... I don't know, I always feel like I'm going to burst if I don't use it. Even when I was an apprentice my old master tried to teach me 'discipline' by forbidding me from using it for a month. I actually got quite ill.

The shamans also said that you were being weakened by being near the sea, Sylvanas said pointedly.  And you're recovering far faster here, away from it.

Most of my nightmares involved the sea in some way, Jaina countered. It might not be a wholly magical reason why I'm feeling safer and less confused taken away from the source of those.

Perhaps.   She let it be.  Sylvanas was no expert in magic.  "So," she said aloud, addressing the druids.  "Do you know what form of magic might be at work here?"

There was silence for a time before one of the tauren spoke up, "It's different but... I cannot help feeling some echo of the twisted parts of the Emerald Dream. Those tainted by corruption." There were murmurs of agreement. "It's much like our own magic, but twisted. Just not exactly in a way we are familiar with."

Baine frowned. “I thought that the Emerald Nightmare had been banished once and for all with the death of Xavius.”

“This is… different,” the tauren replied uneasily. “Just as twisted, but… an unfamiliar form of aberration. If this works how I think… it’s like a knot of poison fused into the flesh of the bearer, granting them this… new power. The ability to shapeshift into a sentient being is… unthinkable.”

Jaina nodded. “It felt alien. Separate somehow.”

"De spirits whisper of dark plots... But cannot draw anytin' more from just dis orb," a shaman added.

Azshara tapping the emerald dream.  Sylvanas suppressed a grimace. That didn’t bode well. “If the naga are using corrupt nature magic now… perhaps their accursed queen has taken over responsibility with Xavius gone and is choosing a more insidious approach."

There were uneasy mutterings.

"I'm aware of the tenuous position the Circle stands in.  In this case, I have no issue with you sharing this information with your brethren.  I'm no druid, but the threat of a new incarnation of the Nightmare, in whatever form, isn't lost on me. As you can see from the presence of their king here, I’m working with the Alliance on this matter.”

The druids present seemed relieved, "Thank you, Warchief."

“What should be done with the orb?” Jaina asked.

“With your permission, we will take it,” the lead druid said. “Perhaps the kaldorei will have insights.”

Sylvanas gave a nod, and then the group was dispersing. Spreading out to search Thunderbluff and beyond quickly and quietly for any hidden Naga.

She only hoped they were one step ahead of Azshara, instead of two steps behind.

"Jaina, it's time for medicine." Okande gripped the mage's shoulder.

Jaina sighed deeply, "I'm feeling fine, really." Her bearing put the lie to it, though; she was still exhausted.

"Go on, Jaina."  Sylvanas reached out, squeezed her hand.  "I'll join you soon."

The mage grumbled, looking like she was thinking of arguing, but… gave in, allowing the troll woman to guide her away. Anduin stopped her briefly at the door where he was talking with Baine, giving her a hug. Then he let both of them go, moving over to the Banshee Queen.

“I should be leaving,” the young king said. “Now that I have an idea of how to locate naga spies, I need to pass this along to the rest of the Alliance.”

Sylvanas nodded.  Looking him up and down for a moment.  "I'd like to think that we understand each other a little better now.  Perhaps next time, I'll holiday with you, " she added with a dry smile.

He actually smiled slightly, "That would be interesting... I look forward to it, Sylvanas." He offered her a hand, offering a shake.

She shook it in return.  "Safe travels… Anduin.  Do you want me to send an escort with you to... whatever mysterious transport you're arranging?"

"No need. I can't cheat like Jaina does.. But I can always get home." He pulled his hand away after a moment and turned, "Until we meet again."

Sylvanas tilted her head. "Goodbye, your majesty."

It was the first time she'd said it without a mocking tone in her voice.  He'd earned that much.

Anduin gave her a genuine smile. Then in a flash of light… he vanished.

Most mysterious.  But it wasn't like he knew all her secrets either.

There was one last piece of business for the day before she retired to join her wife. Sylvanas sighed, and stalked over to where Baine was gazing up at the first stars.  She'd rather he hear about the goblin operations from her.

“Warchief,” he said after a moment. “Something on your mind?”

"There's something we should discuss," she said quietly.  " Before rumours reach you and you start questioning my integrity. Or question it even further, I suppose."

He frowned, "... Let's speak inside then." He turned leading the way back into the chief's hut. The fire was still going and he retook his place next to it.

The darkfallen settled next to him.  "The goblins are mining in Silithus," she said without preamble.  "We both know they'd be doing it with or without my permission.  I've conditionally allowed it while more research is done on Azerite."

Baine scowled, "Leave them to it and they'll carve the very heart out of the Earth Mother."

"I know,” Sylvanas said placatingly. “But with the orcs already on the brink of civil war, peace with the Alliance fresh and uncertain, and now threats from the Naga invading the emerald dream... I don't have the force to bring to bear to keep the goblins out, and we both know it would probably come to that. I intend to go to Silithus to examine the current situation."

She paused.  "I know this is important, Bloodhoof. I think… I heard Azeroth.  When I touched that little orb on Gallywix's cane."

Baine's irritation was replaced by surprise, "What?"

"Well… Felt her,” Sylvanas corrected. “She wasn't exactly... using words.  But I felt her fear and pain.  And I heard Magni's voice, talking about... choosing someone."

"She must be looking for someone to stop the mining,” Baine rumbled, anger entering his features again. “It must be agony in the wound."

She looked at him calmly.  "I don't want the mining to continue.  But I need to balance my position.  We both know that my position as Warchief in Kalimdor is tenuous. Even with Saurfang gone, not all orcs will share Geya’rah’s devotion - and she’s by far the most loyal on the council save perhaps Lor’themar."

The tauren nodded, "Barely a month ago I was still questioning why you were chosen. Even now I wonder... But now I see glimmers of a Warchief I could be proud to follow. When will you head for Silithus?"

"I'm glad you understand." She suddenly looked weary.  "In truth, Baine... I didn't want to be Warchief. I still don't. But it's the role I was given, and I resolved early on to try and defend the Horde as I defend my own people.  As for when I'm heading out... day after tomorrow at the latest. I want to keep an eye on Jaina for a while."

Baine was silent a moment, contemplating that before finally nodding, "You should go on wing. It will be faster and harder to track."

"Agreed," she said, leaning back against a pillar with a sigh.  "Ugh... Orgrimmar in chaos.  Damn Saurfang."

He sighed, staring into the fire, "Perhaps it would have been best if Varok had fallen in Northrend with his son."

"We both know he wishes it were so,” Sylvanas said darkly. “Then at least he could have died with some honour and glory in his heart, and all that orcish stuff."

Baine snorted, "Why do you disdain the idea of honour, Sylvanas?"

"Honour and bravery didn't save Quel'thalas," she said bluntly.  "Or my parents and brothers.  Or any of the people I had to kill as a puppet of the lich king."

"Honour isn't how you win. It's how you live with integrity."

She was about to snap at him, or make a sarcastic quip about not being alive. But… suddenly Jaina’s words about knowing when not to shoot her mouth off came to mind, and she took a breath. Metaphorically.

"I made the choice of survival over integrity a long time ago. Too much of what I cared about died because there were lines I wouldn't cross." She stared moodily into the fire. "Perhaps you would have liked the living Sylvanas better. She had standards, or at least more than me. But she died a failure and a fool."

He was silent for a moment, "There was a time when my people were facing extinction. The only reason we survived was because my father took a chance and allied with Thrall. Still it took him a long time to stop acting in survival and start living again. I don't begrudge you your cynicism. What the Lich King did to you was monstrous... But you cannot simply survive for the rest of your existence."

"Maybe I'll stop when the world stops trying to end," Sylvanas said with a dark chuckle. Her expression softened slightly. "But I do see a glimmer of hope now. That... that is new." She unconsciously traced the runes carved into her flesh, the mark of her marriage.

The tauren put a hand on her shoulder, "I will try to be more... Understanding of your pragmatism in the future. If Saurfang has taught me anything now..." His hand fell away, "It's that idle talk leads to nothing."

"Idle talk and the refusal to take responsibility," Sylvanas agreed. "I'd hope no one could accuse me of either."

He snorted. "No."

Okande appeared a moment later, giving them each a nod before she took her seat by the fire.

Sylvanas sat there in silence for a while. Finally she rose. "I'm going to get some rest. It’s been a long day. Good night Baine, Okande."

"Warchief."

As she left she heard the old woman speak softly to Baine, "There's a real irony to de Warchief having a girl like dat as a mate."

"How do you mean?"

"Dat girls body be burstin wit life. If she had a partner who could do it she'd be pregnant just from gettin’ sneezed at." Okande chuckled.

"Jaina? Does she even want children?"

"I didn't ask. Not me place. Dey do seem happy togeder. Dat’s good at least."

The voices faded beyond even elven hearing. Sylvanas frowned in thought.

Bursting with life?

Had she just taken a lot of precautions with Kalec? Or... was this another quirk of the Tidemother's blood awakening?

That serious thought roamed elsewhere. Quietly pondering children and their mutual regrets about that.

She stripped off in the tent, cuddling up to Jaina, and closed her eyes. Thoughts jumping all over the place. Feeling the other woman stir, and hold her tight with a soft hum.

Soon… she’d go to Silithus. But for now… she could just be with Jaina.

***

Sylvanas awoke to a strange feeling. A rhythmic tugging at her scalp.

The sun was peeking in, and as she stirred… she realised that Jaina was sat up. Braiding her hair.

When was the last time anyone had touched her hair?

She stirred, smiled faintly. "...what are you doing?" she murmured.

"Amusing myself mostly." Jaina smiled a little, "Good morning."

"Good morning,” Sylvanas yawned. “Haven't had anyone work on my hair in... about thirty years."

"You don't take very good care of it,” the mage hummed. "It's very dry."

"In case you haven't noticed, all of me is dead. Including my hair. It doesn't even regrow unless I focus on it."

"... You do realise that hair is dead anyway? It's not a living part of you. The regrowing thing is the only disadvantage you have." Jaina kissed Sylvanas briefly, "We're going to be getting things to deal with this. If you're going to strike fear into the hearts of naga you can use fantastic hair to distract them with jealousy."

She seemed to be in a good mood.

Sylvanas rolled over lazily to look at her wife properly. "You slept well, I take it?"

The human was grinning. "I did. You?" She carefully stopped the braid halfway down Sylvanas's long hair, "Sit up... I have an idea."

The darkfallen obeyed. "Well enough. It's been a long few days. And finding the orcs are on the brink of civil war doesn't help."

Jaina sat up behind her as well, "Hopefully Okande's right and they'll sort themselves out." She started making three matching braids on Sylvanas's other side, "Are you going to go back?"

"I don't have time,” Sylvanas grumbled. “I'm heading to Silithus tomorrow."

"... To figure out about the Azerite?" There was a hesitation in Jaina’s voice. Perhaps still dwelling on her reaction to the substance.

"Yes. And probably bring the goblins to heel."

Jaina nodded, "Just... Be careful. Please?" She gently pulled the three braids on each side, bringing them together at the back of her head where she wove the loose strands together enough to stay, and then smoothed out the rest. Only a little of the shorter hair at the front of her head remained over her forehead and the rest was held back comfortably by the braids over her ears.

Sylvanas gently touched the braids. "...that feels strange. How do I look?"

Jaina leaned around from the front, "Pretty." She smiled a little sheepishly, "I can take it out if you'd prefer."

The Banshee Queen shrugged with a faint smile. "I'll try it. Guess I'll wear my hood down for now. Let others admire your handiwork."

Jaina chuckled, "Very accommodating." She kissed Sylvanas's cheek and made to stand, grabbing her pants.

The darkfallen reached out to pinch Jaina's butt as it passed. "You know, I overheard Okande say you were overflowing with life energies last night. I suppose opposites attract."

Jaina jumped slightly and turned around to protect her rear, "Life energies?" She breathed out a laugh, "I'm not a druid."

"Don't need to be a druid to be alive. Or to enflame desire," Sylvanas purred.

Jaina flushed, "You're insatiable."

"I haven't had the chance to touch you in a while," Sylvanas pouted. “Besides, you’re one to talk after your welcome yesterday.” But she too started getting dressed.

"That's fair I suppose... Breakfast first though?” Jaina replied. “These potions have made me ravenous."

"I have the patience of the grave," Sylvanas quipped, pulling her pants up.

Jaina snorted, but pulled her wife into a brief kiss when she stood straight. She tugged on her shirt for good measure and headed out to hunt for food.

The banshee stared into space for a time. Finally got up, finishing pulling on her armour.

For once, it wasn’t lustful images coursing through her head to distract her. No, it was another image.

Why the fel did she keep thinking about that vision? That surge of terror and pain, the voice of Magni… choosing someone…

Jaina was already attacking a hearty breakfast when she emerged and made her way over to Baine’s hut. The High Chieftain and Okande greeted them both good morning, but Baine himself didn’t stay long, his duties calling him away before long.

The old troll gave Sylvanas explicit orders to have Jaina back for lunch and more of her medicines.

"And no spells young lady." She reprimanded with a smile.

Jaina actually laughed, "I'm going to have nightmares for years of you telling me that."

"Good!"

After that, the morning was spent wandering the streets of Thunder Bluff. Taking in the sights, browsing stores, generally trying to relax. A chance to enjoy each others’ company without anything to occupy them.

But for the Banshee Queen, it wasn’t entirely successful. Despite her prior lechery, she found herself too stressed to make any further advances on Jaina. Worrying about Orgrimmar. Worrying about Silithus. Worrying about the naga. Worrying about Undercity. She'd been away from her people so much of late, ever since becoming Warchief...

She always seemed to be everywhere but the right place these days.

It wasn't hard for Jaina to pick up on. Not only had they been spending so much time together but... Now she had a direct line into Sylvanas's mood.

The morning she did her best to distract Sylvanas... But when it proved pointless she pulled her away privately after lunch, into their tent, with a serious expression, "Order I go back to Undercity."

"...what?" Sylvanas gave her a confused look. "I'm not even sure I have the authority to do that. And why would I?"

"We can't do anything about Orgrimmar, the naga problem is being handled as best it can be... That leaves Silithus and Undercity. Sending me out to deal with SIlithus sounds like a terrible idea right now for... many reasons." She shifted uncomfortably, "But If I'm in Undercity then I can make sure that it's ticking over well and we won't both be on the same continent having no idea what's happening elsewhere."

Of course... Then we won't be on the same continent.

"Okande will object if I suggest it but an order from her Warchief would do the trick. Probably."

Sylvanas pursed her lips, hating the idea instantly. "...Jaina, most of the Horde barely accepts you. And you're alive. Whatever favour you’ve gained from the Forsaken, you’re still an outsider. What could you do in Undercity?"

And I don’t want you that far away.

"Barely accepted is fine if it will help ease your concern." Jaina gripped Sylvanas's shoulders lightly, "I hate sitting here like a lump."

"You came to Kalimdor for a reason, you still need your liaisons," Sylvanas pointed out. You’re not just my wife and consort, even if I wish those were your only duties sometimes.

Jaina blinked, "... Shit." She covered her mouth, going a little red.

"You forgot?" the elf said, a faint, amused smirk crossing her features.

The mage frowned, "... It might have... Slipped my mind?"

"You've had a lot to deal with,” Sylvanas said soothingly. Relieved to have a solid reason to keep Jaina close. “Your imprisonment, your illness. You can work with Baine to find someone suitable while I'm in Silithus. We’ll need to check in at Orgrimmar again, so you can find your orc there. After that... well, knowing our luck, something will likely have gone terribly wrong, but you can head up to Ashenvale and the Alliance."

Jaina sighed, letting her hands fall, nodding, "... Right. Are you sure you're going to be alright?"

"I'll be fine,” Sylvanas said, shaking her head. “Goblins are the last thing I'm worried about."

"I'm not worried about the Goblins, love," her wife said quietly.

"I'll watch my back. I have my rangers, my Val’kyr,” Sylvanas assured. “It'll be fine… love."

Jaina's cheeks went a little pink and she leaned up, kissing Sylvanas softly.

The elf brushed her cheek, hugged her close. "...we show a very different picture in public than in private," she said suddenly. "Are you... ashamed of how close we are?"

Jaina leaned into her, "It's... complicated. I'm not ashamed exactly, it's..."

Light, how did she even start to explain the complexities of this?

"Some of it's just me... I never liked being very open about things because... Well, when I was with Arthas all of Lordaeron knew about it... And talked about it... And then I'd hear that word of our latest picnic had even gotten home to my parents. What would people speculate about us?"

If we were in love?

She squelched that thought immediately and shoved on, "And then on top of it there's people like Genn to consider. I'm controversial even among the Alliance... Anduin will keep anything he saw or heard to himself but the moment someone like Genn, it doesn't even have to be Genn himself, see's something they deem as 'too far' or 'beyond acceptable' then they'll use it as an excuse to rip this peace to shreds."

Sylvanas looked down. Refusing to acknowledge that stray thought.  "We're damned if we do and damned if we don't.  Too close and we'll be accused of blurred loyalties. Too distant and we’ll be accused of lack of commitment."

Jaina nodded, "... Give it time. The hope is that this will calm and bridges will be built, remember? A peaceful Azeroth? Maybe then..." She shook her head and looked up finally, tapping her chest, "At least until then there's this..."

"True," Sylvanas said softly.  Gazing softly at Jaina.

What was wrong with her?  Why was she feeling so many... emotions?  She'd become so used to emotion being a distant thing… so easy to suppress and ignore…

Jaina reached up, cupping her cheek. She didn't know what to say. Promise one day they could be affectionate in public? Tell her that they'd maybe one day really love each other? Declare she was going to string Genn up as an example for traitors and turncoats so they could stop worrying about this?

But it wasn't just Genn. Saurfang had raised concerns too... And where there were vocal detractors there would be silent ones.

She had no answers, couldn't promise anything more... So she kissed Sylvanas tenderly and hoped it would be enough.

Sylvanas shivered. Jaina...

No.  No, she couldn't say it, couldn't even think it.  It would be a lie.  How could it be anything else? She was dead. More than that, she was their queen.

The dead don’t feel.

"...I'm going to miss you," she said awkwardly.  "And although I said to Anduin that maybe I'd tour the Alliance... somehow I think I'd be less welcome than he was in the Horde."

"Give it time." Jaina smiled slightly, "You're not leaving till tomorrow so... Miss me later."

When was the last time she'd spent an afternoon and evening wrapped up in someone without getting antsy or bored?

She wasn't sure such a thing had ever happened.

The next morning Baine arranged for several manticores for Sylvanas and her rangers to take on her trip south. Jaina saw her off... And actually hugged her at the cliffs edge briefly.

That wasn't too intimate right? Right.

Of course not.

"Stay safe,” the darkfallen urged. “Baine will take good care of you.  Let me know if anything comes up.  And you, Bloodhoof... I'm leaving something precious in your care."

Baine gave a serious nod, placing a giant hand on Jaina’s shoulder. “Have no fear, Warchief.”

Then the manticore was in the air.

Jaina watched her soar away.

Feeling their connection fade, and her heart clench, as the squadron vanished from sight.

Chapter Text

The trip to Silithus from Thunder Bluff wasn’t the longest - but since Sargeras’s last spiteful blow, making it by road was difficult, if not impossible. Flight used to be a luxury of speed, now it was a necessity - not just for the harder terrain, but because the mass of fissures and cracks radiating out had ruined many of the land paths.

But by air, she could just keep steady watch on the unimaginably large sword, appearing and then growing on the horizon. That would be all the guide she needed.

Sylvanas wasn’t particularly fond of the manticores, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. There was much grumbling and the occasional yowl from her mount - and from the others following her, too, each of the half dozen beasts with a cloaked figure astride it.

Perhaps bringing her entire escort of rangers was overkill, but… that vision nagged. A thrumming certainty that something dangerous was happening in Silithus, and she didn’t want to be alone for it with only goblins of dubious loyalty for company.

Nor had the threat of Naga. A young tauren woman was the only living member of their group, ready to help confirm that any goblins she spoke to were what they seemed to be. Just in case. Even setting aside her own unformed, unclear anxieties… if Gallywix’s promises were worth even half of what he claimed, Azerite could shift the balance of power. Soldiers armed and armoured with Azerite alloys… what would Garrosh have done with such a thing?

What would she, not so long ago?

She was brooding.

She used to do that a lot. Less so now. But being away from Jaina brought it back in full force, every time.

“Where should we make for, General?”

Sylvanas stirred from her thoughts, glancing over at her new right hand. The land below was a torn, ruined wasteland, far worse than she’d imagined from the reports. Magma bubbled and vast rifts in the landscape dominated. Nothing living remained.

Aside from goblins, apparently.

Trust Gallywix to brave the jaws of death like this on the offchance of finding something valuable.

“Head for the sword,” she called back to Velonara. “That’s where the goblin camp will be.”

She steered the reluctant beast in that direction, and the formation arced to match.

Sure enough, before too long she could see the shape of tents and hastily erected structures. And… something else. Like a whisper in the wind.

She shivered slightly. There had better be answers here.

The murmured chatter from behind her died as the descent towards the camp began. Gallywix. Gallywix had promised her a tour. That was a place to start.

Goblins scattered as they came close. The tent-city was huddled away from the magma flows, pathways for miners scouring the surface already trod into the ruptured earth.

One of them approached as her manticore landed, and the Warchief slid off with a flourish. "W-Warchief! What can I getcha?"

Nervousness.  That could be a good or a bad sign, and either way a sign she was where she should be.  "Tell Gallywix I’ve arrived,” she intoned, her rangers also dropping to the ground to surround her.

A cadre of red-eyed elves in dark armour and wielding longbows and cold expressions tended to freak people out, and the goblin in question was no exception. "Gallywix? Yeah! Hold on, I'll go get 'er!" The little goblin man was off like a shot.

Sylvanas glanced at the rangers accompanying her.  "Stay alert," she murmured in Thalassian.  "Not that I need to tell you.  Keep your ears sharp for anything amiss.  The last thing they'll want is for the Warchief to find something wrong with their operation." Did he say ‘her’?

“You’ve got it, Dark Lady,” Velonara acknowledged. 

A few moments later the goblin returned... But it was with Nazzy in tow, "Warchief." She grunted, "Sorry for the mix-up, I'm guessing you're looking for my pops. But he's not here."

Sylvanas raised an eyebrow.  "We meet again," she said.  "I wasn't aware Gallywix had a daughter."

"Pops's got a dozen or something little bastards like me, pretty sure most of 'em are still alive and just about all of us work for him." The goblin shrugged, "Anyway, he's back in Ratchet."

"Of course he is,” the darkfallen said irritably. “Tell me, girl, did he convey my instructions, or inform you that I'd be visiting the digsite?" What could be more important than seeing to my visit, after he was so keen to sell me on this mine?

"Yes and yes,” Nazzy confirmed. “He's getting someone else to deal with the first but the second he told me to tell him the moment you showed up."

She sure as hell didn't look in a hurry though.

Sylvanas gave her a shrewd look. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise… "Well, in his absence, how about you give me the tour of the mine instead?"

"My pleasure ma'am," the woman replied with a smirk.

She turned over her shoulder, "HEY LISTEN UP! WARCHIEFS HERE FOR A VISIT BUT YOU DON'T GET PAID FOR GAWKIN’. GET TO WORK!"

There was a mad scramble all around them and she motioned Sylvanas to follow her, "It's good you came." She lowered her voice, "We had another accident."

“One moment,” Sylvanas said. “Dawnstride.”

The tauren stepped forward apologetically. “Security measures, Miss Gallywix. I need to magically scan you.”

Nazzy tilted her head, shooting Sylvanas a look, but accepted the scrutiny.

“She is what she appears to be.”

“Good.” Sylvanas waved dismissively to her escort. Velonara would ensure that they milled around in… usefully nosy fashions. Then an inviting gesture for Nazzy to lead the way, as she lowered her voice. “Another Azerite reaction?” If she could figure out what those responsible had in common… maybe it would help Jaina.

Nazzy said nothing until they had arrived in a larger tent, filled with benches of random tools and gear, with a bed crammed into a corner, and a very large shape covered by a sheet. "Yeah, even more then that though. Bastard didn't immediately explode. He lived long enough for me to get there and she he'd turned all..." She wiggled her fingers, "Woodily. You wanna tell me what that scan was about?"

“Naga,” Sylvanas said shortly. “We’ve discovered they can shapeshift now, to look like us. We’re doing our best to scan for spies in our ranks. I wanted to make sure you were trustworthy.”

Nazzy wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Fuckin’ snakes. Always up to somethin’.

“When you say… ‘woodily’,” Sylvanas said, wiggling her fingers in imitation. “Do you mean… mutation? Tentacles? Old God influence?” C’thun was buried here, she remembered, even if he’d been killed off a while ago.

"I dunno,” the goblin shrugged. “I never really got mixed up in a lot of stuff like that. But some of the boys who have seen it thought so. Now everyone's asking for hazard pay... I'm paying out bribes to keep them quiet for now. Nobody gets anything if there's a big panic."

"Don't be surprised if the mine ends up needing to be shut down or evacuated.  You know what it is that you're mining, right?" Sylvanas said.  "I'm not even making threats, just stating that you're dealing with things far bigger than the Cartel can handle. C’thun might be dead, but even a dead Old God can cause chaos.” She had vivid memories of the remnants of Y'shaarj.

"Yeah, well, I don't make the rules unfortunately." Nazzy looked up, "I been told what it is, I don't really care one way or the other but you ain't got an operation if everyone's dead. Pops doesn't really agree and will pay anyone to go anywhere even if he knows it's gonna kill 'em. You don't gotta convince me, you gotta convince him."

Sylvanas glowered, but the girl was right. Gallywix senior held the power, and it was him she had to negotiate with. So she changed topics. "Have you seen anyone else here?  Beyond the Cartel?"

Nazzy scratched her head. "Not much... I had reports of something moving near the sword itself... An elemental or something. We've been keeping an eye out for any angry spirits or whatever but nothing's much showed up. Aside from the Azerite... It's like this whole region died when the thing hit down."

"An elemental?  Crystalline?" the Banshee Queen hazarded. I can’t have heard Magni’s voice for no reason, though why he’d be here…

"Dunno exactly. Guy said it was real shiny and movin’ like it didn't give a crap about the lava." Nazzy pointed vaguely, "He saw it on the north side. That's about all I know, nobody else's seen it."

Sylvanas shifted. Are you out there, Magni? Am I even supposed to look for you? Who knows.   "How long has the Cartel been here?"

"Swept in basically when it happened. Wanted to see if the sword could be worth somethin’... Can't even get close enough to it to find out still but that's how we found the Azerite." Outside, it was starting to rain.

Sylvanas frowned.  "So your father left it for as long as possible before informing me.  I don't know why I'm surprised."

Her gaze swept the horizon.  "Is there any way to the north side?  Or should I just get a manticore?"

"Flying would be easiest,” the goblin recommended, "Why're you chasin’ an elemental anyway?"

"Visions," the darkfallen said shortly.  "And a hunch that they can explain some mysteries."

Nazzy looked her over, "Didn't take you for one to just jump at visions... Must’ve been a pretty serious one."

"You have no idea," she said dryly.  "Let's keep going. Show me the rest of the camp, then I’ll go hunting."

Nazzy led her around the operation, most Azerite came off in shards it seemed like, getting large chunks was difficult.

But it was where Nazzy really worked that it became really interesting. The little foundry was lying quiet for now, but neatly laid out were several swords and shields, evidently show pieces. A couple of goblins eagerly picked them up, first tearing a dummy to shreds with ease, then firing a makeshift cannon at a shield, which didn’t even show a dent.

Sylvanas glanced around, realised that her ranger contingent had drifted over and were watching, likely with the same mixture of trepidation and awe that she was feeling.

“Light as a feather, too. Get enough of this stuff and you could start making bigger things, too. Zeps, mechs, even ships. Get a few battleships with azerite armour and you could make Kul Tiras look like amateur hour. And that's not all. Mix it with gunpowder and you get an accelerant that really goes 'boom'." The goblin grinned faintly, "This stuff has been an engineer's wet dream, lemme tell ya. Been testing the stuff for limits, and ain’t found many."

Sylvanas shivered.  Not so long ago, she'd have had all her concerns swept aside by this display.  There was still an allure.  What warrior or general wouldn't want Azerite on their side?

And yet...

She lightly hefted one of the Azerite-infused swords, making a few passes with it.

Maybe she could figure out a way to use this without making everything worse.  Maybe. Even if peace held with the Alliance, there was still Azshara and N’zoth.

"I’ll think on this,” she said finally. “I’m going to scout the north side.”

"Alright sure. Good luck finding that elemental I guess."

Velonara raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Elemental?”

“Chasing a hunch,” Sylvanas replied. “Stay here. I won’t be long.”

She received baleful looks from her rangers, but she ignored them, returning to her manticore and urging it into the air. Arcing lazily towards the north side, eyes scanning for movement.  Come on.  Where was she meant to go? More than ever, she was feeling that… something drawing her in.

Normally she was wary of such feelings, but… this one felt different.

The rain mixing with the magma rivers below made a lot of steam. And it was getting dark... She was drenched through before she finally saw it. An unnatural, moving glint, a little ways north of the colossal blade. The figure stilled for just a moment before jumping down into the earth.... A cave?

Sylvanas slid off the manticore as she touched down nearby, moving over to look at the hole. It was dark at first, the heat of the lava flows nearby likely enough to make anyone that still sweated deeply uncomfortable. But there was a glint of light, enough to show a space to land on.

She braced herself, and then jumped down. Bow in hand.

It was claustrophobic in this little hollow, but… ahead of her, as if sensing her presence, a door lit up. A Titan built vault for the look of it... But something was wrong. It was cracked intensely, the door attempted to open for her but only managed it half-way and the cause became immediately clear; Azerite. It had erupted in huge veins through the space beyond, cracking the vault open. It looked like the systems were barely holding on.

But there was more than enough room for her to get through the door.

"How convenient," Sylvanas muttered to herself.  "Of course there just happens to be a titan facility right where Sargeras stabbed..." Likely some leftover apparatus from C'thun's prison. She climbed through nimbly, looking around warily.  "Bronzebeard!" she called.

"In here,” came the reply from the next chamber over. "Hurry up already. I've been waitin’ for days."

Magni Bronzebeard stood in the last chamber before a console. In the centre of the floor was a hole that led down into the earth, protected by a shimmering shield... Well, it was attempting to shimmer anyway.

"Welcome to the Chamber of the Heart, Banshee Queen." He turned around to eye her, the colours of the glittering Azurite reflecting off his crystalline body.

"As... shiny as I remember, Bronzebeard," Sylvanas said dryly.  Looking around, mildly impressed.  "I've had a lot to deal with lately. What am I doing here? You were clearly expecting me, so that vision wasn’t random."

"Saving Azeroth," he said, a little grumpily, "This chamber is one of a few that lead directly to the world's core and keep her safe. Did ye think it was an accident that Sargerus tried to hit her here? Luckily he missed by enough... But between his attack and Azeroth’s own blood leaking in well, this place is comin’ apart."

"So I see."  The elf lightly touched one of the crystalline structures.  "So... what, you want me to tell the goblins to get out?"

"No, they're small beans compared to bigger problems... And they didn't cause this." He touched the console and one of the Azerite spikes across from them twitched. No, the figure that was impaled by it twitched. One of the Titan's 'Watchers'. She made a rather unhappy grinding noise as she twitched.

"<Subject: Azeroth. Vitals exceeding acceptable parameters... Attempting to update incident reports... ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR.>"

"We have to get the Maiden free and get this chamber secured or Azeroth is going to bleed out. I've been listenin’ hard as I can but she's so weak right now she barely talks to me..."

Magni didn't notice, but something had lifted up from the tunnel leading down, passing through the barrier and coming to rest on it in the middle of the floor. It looked like a necklace.

Sylvanas pulled away.  Padding over to inspect the necklace.  "But why am I here?" she persisted.  "I was expecting a speech about the goblin mining efforts.  What's my role in this?"

It looked like a simple pendant of Azerite but..  no, it was a little different, something about it sang with a slightly different kind of power.

And when she picked it up Magni's voice seemed oddly distant and magnified.

"Because she's chosen ye as her champion."

It felt like the world opened up, and she was plunging down that dark hole, into the core of the world, all dark and silent... Until she saw it.

The world soul.

Soft and powerful all at once, at first it almost looked like a nebula cloud... Until it shifted, weakly stirring like a sick infant.

And a great, beautiful eye opened slowly to see her.

Then she was squarely back on her feet right where she'd been standing, holding the Heart of Azeroth in her hand. It was weak, but she could feel the hum of it now.

"Windrunner! Are ye listening to me? Use that thing to absorb the Azerite! That should give it some power... Maybe enough to heal this vault.”

For a moment, Sylvanas remained frozen. The vision of the Titan still echoing through her mind. But then she slowly processed what Magni had said, and she looked at him, incredulous. “I’m what? The Champion of Azeroth? Your daughter has a better sense of humour, Magni, leave the jokes to her.”

Magni growled, "Why would I joke about this? She says ye're the only one who could protect her. She's heard the rumblings of the Old Gods, felt them trying to find ways to get to her... Why in the light’s name she thinks ye'd be able to stop that I can't say... But she's damned sure of it."

It made no sense. But he seemed serious, and… there was power in this amulet. They could argue about it later. She stalked over to one of the crystal formations, touched it. The Azerite almost disintegrated at her command, the particles flowing into the pendant rapidly.

Magni watched her work, the invading crystals melting and flowing into the amulet at her touch, until the chamber was damaged but free. With each chunk consumed, the Heart of Azeroth glowed a little brighter.

She tapped the pendant lightly. "So... what, this thing sends the power back to the core?"

The dwarf nodded, "It can. Try and use it to heal this chamber though."

Sylvanas gave him a look, then studied the amulet. "Healing isn’t exactly my forte," she grunted. But the rest had come instinctively…

She raised it up. Blasting energy out, red eyes glowing furiously in concert with the blue of the amulet. It didn't seem to be about healing exactly... The stonework and metal bent and reformed to her will. She wanted them to be as they were? Then they better get to it.

Soon enough she was standing in a fully sealed vault. Even the Maiden looking pristine.

"<Calculating defensive integrity... Vault integrity 100%, returning to monitoring procedures,>" the Watcher hummed.

No. I’m not a healer. But this isn’t flesh. This is rock and metal and construct. It has to be reformed. The way I regenerate my injuries.

Suddenly she looked at the amulet anew. Remembering what she’d told Anduin. I take care of my own, no matter what.

The infant Titan had looked at her, saw her ruthless, endless drive to protect her people… and decided that that was what she needed.

"...nice to know that someone appreciates my style of protectiveness, I suppose," she said quietly.

Magni shook his head. “She’s made her decision now. No arguing with her, one way or the other.”

Sylvanas slipped the pendant around her neck. Still processing the ramifications of it all. “Is it just Silithus? Or… is it worse than that? You said she’s bleeding out, but it can’t be just from this one crack.”

Magni nodded, "They're worst here but... They've popped up in a lot of places. I’m not sure where, she’s in too much pain to tell me. And then there's the sword..." He put his hands on his hips, "Even that thing wouldn’t pull the sword out by itself, not without a lot more power. Not to mention the difficulty of healing her afterwards..." He shook his head.

Sylvanas stared into nothing for a moment. “Stress fractures… across the world. Leaking Titan blood. Azerite sources that… anyone could be using to make weapons. And the woman Azeroth chose to save her life is the fucking Warchief of the Horde. This is going to be a political nightmare, even without considering the difficulties of finding and sealing each wound."

"Politics don't matter if the planet under our feet dies." Magni grunted irritably.

"How about you tell that to Alliance?" she snarked. "Or my own men when I explain that I'm destroying our new miracle material while Sun knows who else is developing it?"

Magni shook his head, "It's not like if ye gathered all the Azerite that's spilled out it would fix everythin’. Do you make the person who's bleeding drink all their spilled blood? If ye spend your time doing that ye're just going to waste precious time that she doesn't have to spare much of. Ye need to close the fissures, and ye need to keep her safe from the Old Gods tryin’ to use this as a way to finally get to her. Cleaning up all the Azerite is the least of your worries."

The Banshee Queen nodded, processing. "Well... hmm. That gives me... ideas." She straightened. "Ideas I need to get to before N'zoth starts making things worse. This would certainly explain why I’ve heard rumours he’s on the move. Oh, and... if you want to explain this to the Alliance instead of making me walk up to them and proclaim myself champion of Azeroth, I'd appreciate it."

"There's a more local problem you need to sort out first,” Magni said firmly, "C'thun's right on top of us here. Or rather, we’re right on top of him."

"...he hasn't moved a tentacle in years. The dragons dismantled his corpse and called the job done. He’s dead ."

Magni sighed, shook his head. “Lass… if all it took to kill an old god was a few dozen idiots with swords and firebolts, do ye really think Sargeras would’ve turned to all out planetary destruction to fix the problem? Ye can’t kill them that easily. When the Scarab Wall was opened, he just lost enough of himself for the Titan machinery to send him back to sleep. But now… a great bloody Titan's sword just cut through his land and his body, and it's given him and his a way out. He took a massive hit, he must be weakened... but he's not going to let an opportunity slip by. Or did ye miss the touched ones showing up among the Goblins?"

Sylvanas shuddered. But she refused to panic. "Last time we needed an entire contingent of some of our strongest warriors to 'kill' him, and we still took horrific casualties. I don't think goblins count."

The dwarf shook his head, "You got a field full of Azerite and the blessing of Azeroth herself, Banshee."

Sylvanas looked at her hands. Grimaced. "I don't feel it. But which way to the bastard?"

"Ye can probably still get to him in what's left of Ahn’qiraj, to the south. If the underground is still intact." He frowned, "Might need some help getting through the rubble though.

"That I can rely on goblins for." She turned to leave. "I figure you'll be able to contact me if you have some new pearls of wisdom to offer. For now, I have a god to kill. Or… rekill. Or put to sleep again."

Magni watched her go silently. The door opened properly as she approached it this time and she hadn't taken more than a few dozen steps away from it before an illusion seemed to be cast, hiding it from view again.

Her Manticore did not look entirely pleased to see her as she clambered back to the surface, looking extremely wet. At least it was well trained enough to have not left.

"Deal with it, fluffy," she growled, swinging into the saddle. "You can get dry as soon as we're back on the other side."

It grumbled and was a little sluggish to take off, but didn't complain further. The return flight was much quicker, even with darkness falling, and she swooped down to land with haste. Her rangers were still with Nazzy, the Goblin woman was grilling some underling about some kind of formula they'd mixed up, and she advanced, expression grim.

"Good news, young Miss Gallywix. Your men get to be heroes. Get a team together to clear some debris."

Nazzy looked up, a little startled, "Debris?"

"I need to get into Ahn'qiraj. C'thun is awake."

Chapter Text

A chill ran through the camp, and her rangers straightened. All trace of mirth instantly vanishing.

But Nazzy seemed unfazed. “Ahn'qiraj?" She crossed her arms, "The Scarab Wall survived... But we haven't scouted that far south. I'll get some guys together. Not gonna be cheap though."

"I'm sure, but I also get a discount." Sylvanas said with a sigh. I’m about to fight a fucking Old God and you’re putting this on me? Fucking goblins.  "You have the Forsaken's best watching over you. And I'm also your Warchief."

Nazzy rolled her eyes, "I'm not even going to dignify that. You obviously aren't familiar with how Goblin accounting works. I'll get my guys together. Gimme just a minute."

Sylvanas’s patience snapped. Nazzy had been far more tolerable than her father, but this was the last thing she needed right now. The banshee flickered forward, hoisted the girl into the air by the collar. "Any other member of the Horde would do this because I ordered,” she growled. “I am not your client , girl, I am your overlord . Watch your tongue." She dropped Nazzy. "Now move. "

Nazzy stumbled but managed not to fall as she was dropped... And then did something surprisingly un-Goblin like.

"Alright now, you listen here Miss Gloom and Doom!" She raised a finger as she shouted over the rain hitting her make-shift workshop's roof, "Two things! One! I ain't my pops! I'm paying for my guys because whatever you got planned sounds damn important and I'd rather spend my money to see this operation be safe in the future than sit here and haggle things like hazard pay that you obviously know nothing about! And two ! Until this point I was actually kinda liking you but that's gonna stop real fast if you start acting as self-important and shitty as my old man! I already put up with him treating me like dirt, I ain't gotta put up with it from nobody else! Yeah, you're kind of my boss but respect is a two way street! Goblins ain't Orcs and they ain't Forsaken and we're not just gonna salute and say 'of course my dark lady' the moment you say something, if you don't like that you can go to Ratchet and get your own fel-damned crew!"

The other Goblins had scurried away in fear. Of which woman was a little hard to tell. Nazzy however only seemed to be trembling from anger rather than anxiety. Any normal or sane Goblin would have either begrudgingly apologized for the misunderstanding or rushed off without another word.

Sylvanas eyed her. Then she actually knelt down to be on eye level, her tone losing its harsh edge. "You have my apologies. My opinion of goblins is tarnished by dealing with those such as your father. People who only understand money and force. I don’t pretend to understand your society, but you’re looking out for your own, after a fashion. I can respect that."

Nazzy was still catching her breath, quiet for a moment. Finally she lowered her hand and lowered her voice back to a more normal tone, "Yeah well... You ain't exactly wrong. Just don't make that mistake again with me and we'll be fine." She held out a hand to shake, "Apology accepted."

The Warchief shook. "Now. Get that team together. I have an Old God to kill."

She stared into nothing for a moment. "Jaina is going to kill me."

Nazzy shrugged, "She'll forgive you... And if she doesn't buy her a vibrator. Trust me, she'll come around real quick." She turned and hurried off, calling out a list of names.

Sylvanas frowned, and almost asked what a ‘vibrator’ was, but… it really wasn’t the time. She turned to her rangers, who were fidgeting a little, and the unfortunate druid who had accompanied them, who was looking terrified.

“Never a dull moment, Dark Lady,” Kalira remarked dryly.

“Steep odds, General,” Velonara said softly in Thalassian. “We’ll follow you anywhere, of course, but… shouldn’t we wait for more troops? Mulgore isn’t far.”

Sylvanas shook her head, and replied in common. “We don’t have time. Azeroth is bleeding out, and C’thun is trying to reach the wound. If he succeeds, not only could he restore his own strength, it’ll be a direct route to Azeroth herself to corrupt her.”

The tauren covered her mouth, eyes widening in horror. Sylvanas turned to the woman. “Dawnstride, wasn’t it? Have you seen much combat?”

“Tawana Dawnstride, Warchief.” The druid rallied a little. “I… I’ve fought a little. Nothing like this. But… the Earth Mother needs me.”

Sylvanas nodded. “Stay back. Let us take the brunt of the fighting. Use your spells to support.”

She was interrupted by Nazzy storming back over. “Got some grinders together. That should open up Ahn-qiraj for you,” the goblin said briskly. She grabbed the sheet covering up half her workshop, and yanked.

Underneath was a ‘grinder’ - a shredder refit for mining, with a massive drill replacing the usual spinning sawblade. But this one had been rebuilt, its armour plating bearing the distinctive sheen of Azerite infused alloys. “Hoped I wouldn’t need to take this thing into a fight, but… she packs a punch.” She patted its leg. “Reinforced armour, Azerite tipped cutters, and an Azerite fuel cell. I’m not sending my boys up against an Old God, but… like I said. This sounds big. So what the fel. I’m with you too, Warchief.”

Sylvanas gave her a new look. At this rate I might actually like a goblin. “We don’t know what we’ll be facing down there. Be careful and follow my orders exactly. It may save your life. All your lives.”

She turned to the entire group, touched her new amulet for a moment. “I have… a new weapon. Something Magni…”

She hesitated. Why am I lying? Do I just still not want to accept it? Am I worried that others won’t accept me?

They need to know.

“Something that Azeroth gave me. A way to use Azerite to heal the damage done to her, and… a weapon. She’s made me her champion. With this, we should have the firepower to cripple C’thun and take him out of the picture again.”

Her assorted soldiers stared at her.

“I know, ok?” Sylvanas snapped. “I sound insane. But I swear it’s true.”

“Sylvanas, you’ve never been sane,” Anya said. “But hey, if you’re finally being recognised as the supreme badass that you are, I’m all for it.”

A ripple of dark laughter sounded from the rangers, and Velonara straightened. “What are your orders, General?”

Of course they’re with me. Why did I doubt that?

“Cover my flanks. Stay mobile, stay wary. We don’t know what we’re going to be facing, how many Qiraji remain, how strong he’s become. If we can’t make headway, we pull out and wait for reinforcements. A suicide run won’t help anyone. I’m not interested in any of you dying today.” And the Heart ending up in his hands would probably be… even worse.

"Yes, Dark Lady," came the chorus. Firm and assured from her rangers, anxious from the tauren, and sarcastic from the goblin.

Sylvanas took one final look around the workshop… and her eyes settled on the hunks of raw Azerite awaiting processing.

She rubbed the amulet out thoughtfully. Magni had thought she could do this. But... rebuilding a vault was one thing, assaulting an ancient void monster was another.

"Nazzy," she said. "You might want to work on an invoice."

The amulet glowed, and the crystals began to dissolve, flowing in streams of light into the Heart.

Nazzy watched, a look of mixed interest and horror on her face.

As the last of it emptied into the now pulsating amulet she groaned, "... That... I'm not paying for. I'll send you a bill if we live through this."

***

The trek to the now all but ornamental Scarab Wall was relatively quiet. The rain continued to pour, limiting visibility with the rising steam from the lava vents, but despite that, there was no sudden ambush. No swarm of insectoid warriors.

Either the Qiraji were dead, or… waiting below.

The Scarab Wall itself, when they arrived, was shattered ruins. The parts of Ahn’qiraj that were visible weren’t much better, and Sylvanas hopped up onto a fallen stone to get a better view. “Let’s get digging.”

Nazzy advanced. Along with her own machine, three other grinders and a mob of goblins with tools got to work, drilling and excavating with impressive speed.

Will you really allow yourself to be the toy of a child?

Sylvanas stiffened as the cold words slid into her brain. Then she slowly relaxed with a smirk. So you are awake. We haven’t met, but I had a lovely chat with your brother in Northrend a few years ago. Come on. You can do better than that. Cut me to the bone, make me doubt myself.

Doubt yourself? You do that enough already. Do you think it is difficult to see into you, Sylvanas Windrunner? Your fear of the darkness beyond your final death... The constant anxiety you'll fail your Forsaken like you failed Silvermoon... And now all those long suppressed feelings of self-hatred, of self-disgust rising to the surface because of your precious Jaina… It almost purred the name like a caress. Do you think being Azeroth's Champion will make her love you like you want?

Sylvanas froze, her grip on her bow tightening. Suddenly regretting her taunts.

Yogg Saron had ripped her open, but… there hadn’t been much there. Just pain and hate. Now she had so much more, and feeling this ancient, malevolent creature pick her brain apart in ways nobody, not even Jaina could see…

Such a pretty creature, bursting with so much power... I look forward to sinking deeply into her mind... Feeling it mould and snap…

"Warchief! We got a tunnel open!" Nazzy called over her engine.

Sylvanas’s eyes snapped open. "You won't get the chance," she hissed. Leapt to her feet, advancing towards the tunnel. Eyes blazing. Horror changing into pure rage.

She'd show him that pissing off Sylvanas Windrunner was a bad idea .

The hole was dark... and deep within, her keen ears could hear skittering. It seemed as though not all the Qiraji were gone, just skulking in the tunnels below.

Sylvanas's eyes glittered, her tone cold and vicious. "Your men are done here, Nazzy. If the Qiraji are awake.... they'll have dug out their master."

"You heard her boys, get the hell back to camp." The goblins gratefully fled, just leaving the strike team.

Velonara moved up to Sylvanas’s side. “General,” she murmured. “Are you… all right?”

“He’s provoking me,” Sylvanas said shortly.

“I figured.” Her lieutenant shuddered. “It’s… not pleasant in here either. Just don’t let him make you stupid.”

“I could handle my rage against Arthas, I can stay smart against this fucker.” The Banshee Queen raised her voice. “Shut him out. Ignore what he says. He’s trying to put us off.”

She set off, brushing a hand over the walls. She was in a bad mood, and that meant... time to fight like Scourge.

There were a lot of dead in this crypt. The remains of those who had fought and died here last time. And that meant a lot of remains for cannon fodder. Let's see how you like having your forces turned against you for a change.

Do you want to know what I would do to her? Do you want to see what I could make of her? How perfect she would be... The crown jewel of my new army...

Nazzy’s grinder ignited its lamps, bathing the dark tunnels in light.

Sylvanas could feel them. The endless bodies, both recent and long dead. Skeletons of the fallen Might of Kalimdor, as well as the crumbling carapaces of the Qiraji... so many remains.

She was no Arthas. No Val'kyr. She didn’t have their raw necromantic power. But she didn’t need anything complicated or advanced.

A swell of purple energy spilled from her hands, lancing out into the fallen soldiers. The old skeletons shivered, twitched, and then began to pull themselves out of the dirt. Grasping rusted, broken weapons, and forming a vanguard. Seeking to slaughter anything they found.

Why are you trying to make me angry?

Because I delight in your hatred. It is your natural state. Unlike my brothers I am not scheming. I am not sneaking. I am that I am. I am all that is chaos. 

There was a shrill shriek ahead, it sounded like a call of warning and abruptly her risen warriors were clashing against a swarm of Qiraji, the tight space of the tunnel limiting the number of those clashing.

Sylvanas began winging arrows at the insectoid creatures, eyes burning. It's only guaranteeing that your end will be all the more painful. You have nothing to offer me, nothing you can do that will stop me.

Skeletons fell. But so did the Qiraji, and each one that collapsed, bleeding and broken, was another puppet. Rising up with jerky movements to join the fight. Other arrows volleyed around her, and clutching roots sprouted out to hobble any who looked in danger of breaking through. A well coordinated assault.

This couldn’t be everything.

Don't I?

There was a noise from above and the roof suddenly caved as more Qiraji collapsed down upon them. Nazzy's walker roared as she brought her drill and crusher to bear against one of the larger ones, punching through it. There was a scream from Dawnstride as the ordered combat devolved into chaos.

I want you to come to me... The infant is weak now. She cannot protect herself and you have brought me a great gift of her power. It will heal my wounds and bring me beyond the strength I had before. If you kneel before me I will let you live. Let you share in that power. I might even let you keep your precious Jaina.

I don't kneel. Sylvanas’s outline blurred into darkness, and she rose up, feeling power rise up into a banshee scream. The swarm shied away, writhing in pain, and she flew back to the beset druid, her rangers likewise pulling back. And you’ll need to do better than this.

The roaring of the Grinder’s weapons, the harsh whistle of arrow fire, the hissing and chirping of the bugs… how were there so many of them? Advancing into this would be a nightmare.

This is only a show for my entertainment. Nothing more.

Nazzy called out as the insects around them scrambled and flailed, "Boss! There's activity under us along with a big heat signature! I think I can dig us a shortcut!

"Do it," the Banshee Queen snarled. A huge qiraji barrelled towards the group, and her eyes narrowed, reaching out into its small, simple brain… and twisted .

The creature stumbled, a purple glow in its eyes as the magic took hold, then it turned and began attacking its comrades. “That should buy us an opening! Get digging!” she barked.

Nazzy immediately brought her drill to bear on the floor as the fighting intensified. It took little effort for her to cut a sizable hole down into the next tunnel, right on top of more of the horde of Qiraji.

Briefly Sylvanas pondered the fact that withdrawing was going to be even harder if they were dropping down holes. But… they were out of options. This number of Qiraji would easily overrun the goblin camp and take control of Silithus again. Surround the Wound, and make getting to C’thun again impossible before it was too late.

She drew twin daggers, dropped down the hole with another banshee wail, disrupting the insects and making Nazzy and Dawnstride wince, and then pounced on her enemies.

There was a heavy thud as the Grinder dropped after her, crushing a couple of unwary Qiraji underfoot. The walker lashed out, clearing some space and violently pulverising more of the bugs. “What I wouldn’t give for a fuckin’ flamethrower! ” she screamed.

“There’s your next modification,” Anya called out as she dropped down, perching on the swaying machine’s shoulder to unleash a hail of arrows. “Shortsighted of you not to have one installed already.”

“Oh yes, my mistake, I should’ve expected gettin’ recruited to murder an entire city’s worth of bugs! Get off, ya bitch, you’re throwing off the balance!”

Dawnstride slid down, quickly followed by the rest of her rangers. “It’s all dead here!” she cried out. “There’s no plants this far down, I’ve got nothing to grasp on to!”

There was a pained snarl from Kalira as a Qiraji lunged forward and bit into her arm. A swift series of stabs with her dagger dispatched the beast, and she fell back, ichor oozing from the injury.

“Then just heal,” Sylvanas called back to the panicking tauren. “You can at least patch us up, right?”

“I can try!” Energies flowed out into Kalira, and the ichor flow stopped. The ranger tested it, nodded, then got back to firing.

This was madness. Even with the corpses of the dead rising up to blunt the onslaught, there was just… no end of them. The deafening sound of Nazzy’s drill announced she was burrowing to the next floor, and… then they were doing it all again.

“I don’t have enough arrows for this,” Velonara grumbled. “Ammunition check!”

They were all running low. Sylvanas grimaced. “Save your shots for the big ones, we’re probably going to need some for C’thun!” she ordered.

Obediently the rangers switched to daggers and swords, including a couple of the Azerite blades Nazzy had been showing off earlier. The goblin was already getting to work burrowing to the next floor.

“How much deeper?” Sylvanas called.

“Another floor or two?” Nazzy replied frantically. “I can’t tell, this place is fucking with my scanner!”

Sylvanas grimaced. They were managing, but… even with Dawnstride doing her best to heal the little injuries, even with the dead and mind controlled taking the brunt… she and her women were tiring. And with this seemingly endless mass of Qiraji, when they broke… it would be over almost instantly.

The Grinder’s drill kept working, finally punching through…

And then the floor gave out under them, dropping them into a massive cavern below, falling into darkness. Screams came from Nazzy and Dawnstride, the tauren desperately grabbing onto the falling walker, as the knot of darkfallen also plummeted, returning to their banshee forms.

Sylvanas felt the Heart of Azeroth quiver as the lamps of the Grinder briefly illuminated something , the machine hitting the rock floor hard. She and her rangers had an easier time of it, returning to corporeal form as they reached the ground.

Dimly she was aware of Velonara dashing to check on their fallen allies, but her attention was on the titanic form dimly visible in the gloom.

Magic flared and lit the chamber up as though it were day, revealing a titanic, sprawling mass of flesh. A pyramid rising up at the edge, crowned by an eye the size of a dragon. The floor was revealed to be incomplete, a bottomless pit towards one side, into which the mass of C’thun plunged.

This was a being on an almost incomprehensible scale, far bigger than the reports of his first defeat. That had just been… a crown. An extension. A part.

Something glimmered in the air and suddenly she was surrounded by tendrils, glowing symbols of power hovering around them, forcing her into a bubble. 

The voice in her head was so loud now as to be deafening.

Welcome, Banshee Queen.

He'd been waiting for her, waiting to spring this little trap. The magic that was forcing her still was crushing, it felt like she'd been sunk to the bottom of the sea, the pressure was so intense and painful. Through the occasional gaps in the tendrils surrounding her she saw the titanic eye glaring at her.

Thank you for bringing the Heart of Azeroth to me. Your death will be the rebirth of my empire... I will be sure to tell Jaina how helpful you were to me.

Sylvanas struggled for a moment. Felt horror, powerlessness. How were you supposed to fight something like this? It was impossible. A cage forming around her mind just as tendrils surrounded her flesh, keeping her still, helpless.

But then she relaxed.

She’d been fighting the impossible ever since she died.

Glowing marks flared to life over her body, the same ones carved into her soul ever since she’d completed the rites with Jaina. Icy blue light streaming out, and she grasped onto it, focused it… and unleashed it.

A storm of ice exploded from her body, cleaving into the tendrils and the bubble surrounding her. But more than that was the endless willpower of the Banshee Queen, which flayed away the fleshy cage for her mind. With a furious wail, the hold shattered entirely, and she dropped to the ground below, eyes blazing as she drew her bow again. "You should've softened me up first."

There was an unearthly wail as the limbs sloughed away from her, bleeding and torn. Around her, she saw her troops pull themselves from the magical hold the Old God had placed upon them. Bows being raised. Even Dawnstride getting to her feet, bleeding but alive. The Grinder coughing back to life as Nazzy forced the machine to stand.

For a moment she felt something like the roar of a volcanic eruption... But it wasn't real, just a feeling in her mind, the anger of Azeroth against this creature. From the pendant power swelled, twisting around her black arrow.

What mortal mind could hold against mine...? No matter. Death is close. There is no hope.

The great eye stared, the pressure on her mind being fought by a mixture of Azeroth's hot anger and the lingering, protective frost, but she could still feel it, clawing to get in, scraping to rip her apart from the inside.

Sylvanas let the glowing arrow fly, a mixture of her own purple magic and the swirling rainbows of Azeroth, and it sunk deep into C’thun’s eye. There was another shuddering wail from the Old God - and then it was on the offensive.

Tentacles and toothy maws erupted from the ground, lunging for her and her followers alike. She could hear cries of warning, the pinging of bows, the horrible wet sounds of a huge drill boring into alien flesh…

But she could only hear, because she was beset by her own problems. One arrow after another sunk into the horrifying tendrils, each recoiling and withering as her shots landed home, Azeroth’s fury like the deadliest poison. But still they kept coming.

Despair. You have failed your friends. As you have before. As you always will.

Sylvanas spun, as the titanic eye began glowing, the colossal iris lighting up like a miniature sun - and then unleashing its energies in a beam that raked across the ground.

She watched a ranger be engulfed and incinerated instantly with a scream. Velonara shoving another aside, and being knocked away herself, missing an arm and dropping senselessly. The blast finally slammed against Nazzy’s walker, which glowed incandescent, incalculable energies tearing into the Azerite shell.

“NO!”

Tendrils swarmed over the disrupted and wounded troops, blocking her view, and the eye spun to face her again. Now. Die.

The eye glowed once more, and it was all she could do to throw herself out of the line of fire. The blast seemed shorter, weaker, but… she was forced to flee. Taking banshee form, and flying desperately from the Old God’s wrath, landing amidst her troops.

“What do we do?” Anya called. Real fear in her voice. The four surviving rangers turning to her, Dawnstride’s expression one of terror and concentration as she forced her magic into the earth, raising a rocky barrier to shield them from the eye beam.

Sylvanas glanced at the melted, shattered shell of the Grinder, turned back to try and form a plan… then hesitated.

Nazzy, scorched and stunned but alive, crawled from the wreckage. “Warchief!” she called. “I got an idea! Cover me! Hooves, when I give the signal, shove the walker into the pit!”

Dawnstride nodded. Too scared to do anything other than obey orders.

“You heard her,” Sylvanas said. “Cover that goblin!”

Nazzy’s survival was a tiny mote of hope, and the entire group clutched onto it, resolve steadying. Their remaining arrow supplies draining as they shot down one tentacle after another.

Futile.

Nazzy was aggressively ripping open the guts of the broken walker, until she revealed a cylinder in its core. With a huge swing of her spanner, she smashed the cylinder open. “NOW! ABSOLUTELY NOW! NOW NOW NOW!”

Dawnstride turned, and charged. Her bulk slamming into the machine, the ground rippling as she used some of her remaining magic for extra force. The Grinder wavered, then vanished over the side, into the pit of the Old God’s true body.

“COVER YOUR EYES!” Nazzy screamed.

Sylvanas had a sudden intimation of doom, and cowered away from the pit.

Even through her eyelids, she could see the bright blue flash, and the ground bucked. The sound of the explosion was deafening - even louder than the tortured, agonised scream of C’thun.

There was a long pause, as the group tried to recover from the detonation.

“Is it… dead?” Kalira asked.

“No,” Sylvanas said grimly.

Then the rock barrier shielding them shattered.

C’thun loomed. The giant eye milky and unfocused, blind. Black blood oozing from its countless mouths. Massive tentacles loomed, ready to smash down again.

I do not need sight to end your pathetic existence.

Sylvanas stepped forward. Her soldiers had given their all.

It was up to her.

Scary arrows is good but is this all you have for me, Azeroth? I’m going to need more than that!

Desperately she tried to feel for the amulet, for anything she was missing. Draining Azerite had been instinctive. What else could she do?

It was hard to think over the feeling of something trying to crack your head open like an egg...

But she could feel it. Like she felt Jaina's heartbeat with her still, she felt the thrum of Azeroth from the pendant, asking to be let in. She couldn't defend herself from these horrors... But she could help. Sylvanas just had to let her in like she had Jaina.

It was the sentiment of a child begging their mother to be brought along on the hunt... Except this was no child.

Letting things in...

She wasn't good at that, normally.

But this was different.

She gazed up at the massive eye, and her hand went to her chest instead of her quiver, and squeezed the pendant.  Rainbow light radiated, suffusing her, mixing with her red eyes and own icy energies.

It was odd, taking the power of a planet into your soul... But it made this creature seem pathetically small. It's scratchings at her mind failed, and as the tendrils reached for her, they scorched and burned away, screaming.

You like my hatred, C'thun?  Here.  TASTE IT.

Sylvanas drew another arrow.  The arrowhead turned incandescent as she drew her bow, and then buried into C'thun with a flash like a bolt of lightning, all of her combined energies going into that one strike, going deep into the massive, blind eye.

The earth trembled, the old god screamed, she felt the power leave her and she was falling... Falling...

Falling away into blackness. More than just Azeroth's energy spent on that one, god-killing strike.

She felt one brief moment of panic.  Terror of the dark.  Surely... surely she hadn't given her life for this... not yet... she wasn't ready... she couldn't leave yet...

Then oblivion.

***

There was something nice about brushing someone's hair. She'd done this with her sisters, several lifetimes ago.

But the girl in front of her wasn't her sister. She couldn't be older than twelve or thirteen, and every time Sylvanas stroked the brush through her long hair green things would spring from it, leaves, flowers, saplings, fruit... Tumbling out over the bench they sat on and onto the ground, bringing a little life to the dead garden that surrounded them.

"You're making a mess," Sylvanas complained good-naturedly.  "Here I am, trying to take care of you, and you keep covering me in green things.  It's not my colour."  She kept brushing slowly and firmly.

The girl giggled and hummed contentedly, the sound of a fresh meadow's brook, before she leaned back against Sylvanas's chest and looked up with bright, beautiful eyes.

"Sylvanas?" Jaina was calling them in... For supper? Or... What was it…

***

“Sylvanas! Sylvanas, wake up!”

Her eyes flickered open into the concerned visage of Anya, shaking her. The blessed light of the sun beaming down from above.

The Banshee Queen slowly sat up, wincing. Glancing around.

Back on the surface. Near the Scarab Wall. Five exhausted darkfallen, a tauren and a goblin gazing at her. Her heart swelled to see Velonara, half her chest and an arm missing but standing up, leaning heavily on Kalira.

“What happened?” she managed.

Looks were exchanged. “You killed him,” Dawnstride croaked. “C’thun is gone. Not even a corpse left. Warchief… you killed him.”

Chapter Text

Sylvanas slowly sat up, wincing. “...dead?” she repeated in disbelief.

Anya shook her head. "After you attacked the creature, it seemed to... disintegrate. All of it. If it wasn't for Nazzy's quick thinking and grappling hook we might still be down in the depths of where its body was. All of the insects, your raised soldiers... They all shattered and died. We were afraid-" She didn't want to finish that sentence.

Sylvanas felt over herself.  "I channeled the power of the Worldsoul into it. She… merged with me for a moment." The Heart was still around her neck. Despite all the energy expenditure, it was glowing brighter than ever.

She got to her feet, looking towards the tunnel curiously.  "There’s nothing left? Even the Qiraji all died?"

Dawnstride shook her head. “There’s nothing. The whole ruin is silent and still.” She looked towards Sylvanas again with more than a hint of hero worship in there.

Sylvanas shifted slightly. It was an expression she was used to from Forsaken, but it felt strange seeing it on one of the living. “Nazzy, what the fel was that explosion you set off?” she said, changing the topic.

Nazzy grinned tiredly. “Well, you mix Azerite into black powder, you get a way bigger boom. I was experimentin’ with mixin’ it into other chemicals, since clearly you can make the stuff go boom, so it’s got a bunch of energy…” She stifled a yawn. “I had a prototype fuel cell on my Grinder, probably could’ve run for months without needing a recharge. But I figured, if I breached it… Azerite reacts badly to woodly shit, so maybe it would blow up nicely on the big guy.” She scratched her head. “Honestly it was even bigger than I expected. Put the right stuff together and you could make a hell of a bomb.”

The Banshee Queen grimaced. “As if the stuff couldn’t pose enough threats already.” Then she stumbled slightly into Anya, who caught her.

“Come on,” the Ranger said firmly. “We should return to safer holdings to let you recover."

Sylvanas nodded.  "Let's go.  Our business in Silithus is done."

“And sweet shine on a silver penny, we’re all still alive somehow,” Nazzy said. “When you weren’t wakin’ up… I was afraid I was going to have to explain to everybody that you'd bit the dust while with me and that's not the kind of heat I want in my life."

Sylvanas just snorted.

***

The trek was a slog to say the least. It felt much longer getting back than getting there had done and by the time they arrived she was practically leaning on Anya. Exhausted. There were things she should do here, but…

“We need to get you and ‘Nara back to Thunder Bluff,” Anya said firmly. “We’ll ride two to a manticore. Can’t have you falling off.”

Sylvanas knew why they were worried.  She never let herself show weakness.  If she was visibly struggling... then she must be on the edge of collapse.

She rather felt like she was.

“Kalira,” she said. “Remain here. Help the goblins make sure there’s nothing left, then report back.” The Ranger saluted. “Nazzy… farewell. I’m grateful for your help. You went far above and beyond.”

That girl was a damned hero and the fact that someone like her father was in charge instead was a crime.

Nazzy waved a hand with a yawn. “Yeah, sure. Go get some rest. I know I will.”

A thought struck Sylvanas. “We, or rather, my wife is trying to assemble a council of liaisons. One from each of the races of the Horde and Alliance. You’d make an excellent candidate.”

Nazzy wrinkled her nose. “I’m an engineer, not a politician.”

Sylvanas shook her head. “I think Jaina would consider that an advantage. She wants down to earth people who can represent what our races actually need. Not who’ll start scheming on her.”

The goblin bit her lip. “I’ll think about it. Goodbye, Warchief.”

Clambering back onto their fliers was quick enough, and Sylvanas, freed of the need to stay focused on guiding the animal by Anya’s presence… fell asleep once more.

***

When she woke, it was bright out. Well, outside. The air was dry and her pillow was warm, very warm. Oh, it was a lap.

"The tangential relation between the third and fifth principles of rune-casting is a fundamental building block of our understanding of structured magic with no formal recognition. Let us consider for a moment if we disengaged these two from their natural interactions, what strange properties might this exhibit in the world could it be done..." The book held over her head had the title 'Quantifying the Qualitative.'

Despite the steadiness of her voice there was an undercurrent of anxiety in Jaina's voice, a forced feeling of calm rather than a genuine one.

"Please, stop already," Sylvanas sleepily remarked.  "There's a reason I avoided mages like the plague when I was growing up. You’re going to send me back to seep." She shifted a little.  "How long was I out?"

Jaina all but tossed the book aside, looking down at her, "Nearly a day? Do you know how distressing it is to watch you sleep? You don't breathe or move." She actually sounded kind of angry but her face was far too written with concern, "If it wasn't for the fel-damned rites I'd have lost my mind trying to sort out if you survived. What were you thinking ?!"

"Regarding which bit?" The darkfallen gazed up at Jaina with a small smile.

She was... really happy to see that beautiful face again.

Jaina leaned down suddenly, a little boob squish was the price Sylvanas paid for a kiss before her wife pulled away again, "You fought C'thun? Without telling anyone? Sound familiar?"

The pleased smile faded. “I just… Magni made it seem like there wasn’t much time. Like we had to do something fast.”

Jaina's mouth thinned, but her anger had dimmed to a pained whisper as she cupped her wife's cheeks, "You could have died, Sylvanas."

"I…" Sylvanas fumbled for her amulet.  "I needed to protect her."

"Her?" The amulet was... The amulet was gone.

Sylvanas sat up fast, realising that she was naked save for a blanket.  "Where is it?" she demanded.  "Where's the Heart?"

Jaina startled back a little, "Heart? Windrunner, what are you talking about? "

"My amulet!” the Banshee Queen snapped, trying to resist panic. “The one Magni gave me!  I still had it when we flew out of Silithus!"

Jaina reached over to the side like she was afraid Sylvanas might attack if she moved too quickly, reaching under the folded cloak and armour and pulling free the amulet, "This?"

Sylvanas snatched it instinctively.  Took a breath.  Forced herself to relax.  "...sorry.  I… I’m not even sure why I got so worked up."  She lay back again, bit her lip.  "Azeroth gave this to me.  As in, the Worldsoul herself.  Magni said... you'll laugh at this... Magni said that she'd chosen me to be her champion.  Her protector."

Jaina frowned, "Your Rangers said something happened with Magni but… Anya said it would be better if you explained. I didn't... It looked like Azerite so I didn't want to touch it directly just in case..." 

Oh, but she'd wanted to.

"Azeroth gave it to you? To be her champion?"

Sylvanas nodded.  "With it... I can absorb Azerite.  Cleanse it.  And then... well.  She and I combined, just for a moment, in Ahn'qiraj, and now... I think C'thun might be gone .  Permanently."

The mage paused, eyes widening, "... Gone ?"

"Ahn'qiraj is just a hollow tomb. There's nothing, not even body parts, not even the Qiraji.  Like I destroyed him and his creations utterly."

"... That can't be possible." Jaina didn't sound like she was doubting her exactly but...

"That... That means... Could we kill N'Zoth as well? And Yogg Saron?" She covered her mouth, implications flooding through.

"Maybe.  But... I'd need a lot of power.  And there are other pressing matters.  Azeroth is fracturing.  This amulet is the only thing that can mend the fractures and stop her from just... bleeding out. Or even… becoming a new Outland."

Jaina opened her mouth, came up with nothing and then closed it again, groaning and then falling onto her side, "... We might actually get to relax one day... Maybe for our fifth anniversary or something."

"I'm... going to take a little time. To relax. And recover. Then I'm going to need to talk to everyone.  Both Horde and Alliance."  The Banshee Queen grimaced.

Jaina nodded, "I think that's wise." She shimmied down, pulling Sylvanas to her tightly, spooned behind her.

"... You scared me. They flew in with you unconscious and... I knew you were just resting but when they told me the bare minimum of what had happened..."

Sylvanas closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of being held. "I like to think you'd have been proud of me.  I broke out of a magical cage he tried to bind me in just with willpower.  Your soul got involved and sprayed ice everywhere.  He was so annoyed ."

Jaina sighed. "... I'll add 'annoying Old God from a great distance' to my list of accomplishments." The mage nuzzled against her hair, squeezing a little tighter, "... I am proud of you. Who wouldn't be? But... I think it'll have to wait for a little bit. Right now I'm not sure if I'm going to cry or not. You went up against an Old God, love. Those things break people's minds... I didn't know if you were going to wake up as you or... Someone else."

"He tried," Sylvanas said soberly.  "We had quite the conversation.  It's sobering to have something narrate all your worst fears to you.  But I know about whispering.  I know about cages for your mind. I survived Ner’zhul and Arthas, I dealt with Yogg Saron in Northrend at my lowest point and came away sane.  It'll take more than an Old God to break me, Jaina."

"Good." Jaina said it with finality, as if that was a promise she would hold Sylvanas to, "But next time you're not going to rush in alone or I'm going to put you on ice. Literally."

"I promise."  Sylvanas nuzzled back into Jaina.  "I just... Magni said that C'thun was getting ready to invade the breach. There was no time."

"Trying to take advantage of the wound, right?"

 "I didn't anticipate the Qiraji to be quite that recovered.  Or C'thun himself, especially with the effects of Sargeras’s attack."

"He can't have been that recovered if you killed him... No offence." Jaina gently started stroking Sylvanas's back, her grip loosening as she relaxed, "... So you're the protector of Azeroth now... Any chance you could ask her why the Azerite and I didn't mix well?"

"I'm not sure." The lie rolled off the tongue so easily.  It didn't even feel like a lie.  It was instinctive.

Because letting herself go down that rabbit hole could ruin everything.

Even with their link, Jaina seemed to buy it, and sighed, "I'm still working on theories... Arcane reaction maybe... I'd just like to know so I could figure out a way to make it not happen."

"There were... it happened to a few goblins as well," Sylvanas admitted reluctantly.  "But in their cases, they died horrifically.  Whatever is going on with you is obviously much less severe."

"Goblins?" The human pulled back, "Were they mages?"

"No. Just miners."

Jaina frowned, sighing as she laid her head back down, "It could just be a volatile substance... Could you leave some for me to study? At least then I'll have something to do."

"I didn't exactly bring any back with me aside from what the amulet absorbed."  Sylvanas shifted a little, stretching warily.  Good.  No aching.  "Did I miss anything?"

"Me? ... And messengers from Orgrimmar."

"Sounds like things have developed.  I should go and find out what they said..."  The Banshee Queen  reluctantly tried to get up.

Jaina's arms tightened around her, "You're not going anywhere. I'm under strict orders from Okande not to let you do anything else till she's seen you up."

Suffer as I have suffered, wife.

"I am the Warchief and you're a guest," Sylvanas objected.  But she didn't struggle. Settling, lifting one of Jaina’s hands to her mouth and kissing it softly.

Jaina snorted, "I'm your wife and you're an injured Warchief. How do you think everyone reacted when you flew in, unconscious?" She sobered, "Vol'jin's passing wasn't that long ago."

Sylvanas nodded with a small sigh.  "You're not wrong.  I don't even know who would take over for me at this point.  Baine, most likely. It seems like all the old faces who brought the Horde together are gone."

"... I'd rather just have you stay alive. Please." Jaina hugged Sylvanas firmly, "Even though I feel like I'm going to see you even less... Warchief, Champion of Azeroth... Next you're going to tell me you've been picked to be the next head of Dalaran and we'll see eachother maybe once a weekend every other month."

"Of course not.  I hate mages, remember?"  The darkfallen grinned teasingly.  "You're the only one I like."

Jaina chuckled, "True... Though, with that attitude maybe you'd do those bastards some good. Light knows they need a swift kick in the ass half the time."

"I should talk to Khadgar, though," Sylvanas mused reluctantly.  "Dalaran needs to know about Azerite. They might have some insights."

Jaina went a bit quiet, "Good luck getting anything useful out of him."

"So I've heard," Sylvanas grumbled.  "So, uh... how often does Okande check in?"

"Every few hours. She was here not too long ago but you were still asleep. You're just going to have to deal with being stuck."

Mmm... so... we have a few hours where we won't be interrupted?

Jaina paused, suddenly seeing where this was going, ... We should be resting.

Sylvanas made a complaining noise.  "I've been resting for a whole day.  What am I supposed to do now?"

The mage giggled, "What would you rather be 'doing', Windrunner?"

"You," Sylvanas said immediately, rolling over to face the other woman.

Jaina burst into laughter, "That's what I thought."

"Come on, Jaina..." Sylvanas said, half pleading, half teasing.  "I don't remember the last time I got to taste you properly..."

Her wife kissed her briefly with a grin, "How many people do you think would believe me if I told them I could make Sylvanas Windrunner beg?"

"Nobody who'd live for long," she growled, only half joking.

Jaina snorted, "I guess I'll just keep that to myself then." She hooked a leg over Sylvana's hip.

Sylvanas wrapped herself around Jaina hungrily, kissing her needily.  Perhaps... needing to burn off some energy in the aftermath of her titanic battle.  Even the undead needed to celebrate being alive sometimes.

Jaina didn't fight or push her away, her objections having just been teasing really. She only pulled away after a brief second with a slight cough, "... Maybe you should remove the Heart? Just in case..."

Sylvanas pulled back for a moment.  "...probably."  She threaded the amulet off her neck, lightly placed it nearby… and then got back to the business at hand.

***

Some time later, after a blur of passion and hunger, Sylvanas lay back.  Basking in afterglow and satisfaction, an arm wrapped around her wife. Jaina, thoroughly and happily abused with adoration, nuzzling contentedly against her.

But soon anxiety began to filter back in. Before long the Warchief was worrying about how the Alliance would react to her new status.  And wondering what had happened in Orgrimmar.  Schism?  All out war?  What if she'd been wrong and Geya had lost the duel?

Reluctantly the two separated and dressed - with good timing, as a familiar troll appeared soon after.

"Good ta see ya up and about Warchief. Ya gave us all a good scare." Okande checked her over without hesitation, shoved a potion into each of their hands to drink that tasted somewhere between 'moss' and 'stale lemons', and then okayed them to go about their business.

Baine didn't even greet her before giving her the news they'd received from Orgrimmar. Geya'rah had sent the messengers to announce that Saurfang had been captured, that his loyalists were being either killed or rounded up, and that he was going to stand for Mak'gora or execution in less then a day, depending on if he picked up his sword or just let Geya'rah cut him down.

Sylvanas made a face at this news.  "So much for a clean transition," she grunted.  "More scars for the Orcish people.  Although I don't know why I'm surprised."

Jaina also frowned at this news, "This won't be seen as a hostile takeover? It won't lead to dissent in the future?"

Baine eyed her, "... Thrall was an exception rather than the rule, you understand that, don't you?"

The mage blushed faintly, "Yes, I just... Never mind."

"I have little doubt that the orcs will continue to fragment," the Warchief said with a sigh.  "Unification just isn't in their nature, not without someone of sufficient power who can inspire loyalty - or fear.  The real question is how many will blame me for this turn of events."

Baine frowned, "Do you really doubt Geya'rah so much?"

Sylvanas shook her head. "No.  On the contrary, it often felt like she was the only one on my side in the council until recently, and I have great respect and appreciation for her loyalty and vigour. She’s got a bright future. But she's young, the fact that I favour her is no secret, and people will note that Saurfang dismissed her first challenge."

Baine shifted. "I think that is why she took Saurfang alive rather than killed him on the field of battle. She wants to show publicly that she can beat him fairly or just how far he has fallen."

Jaina put her hands on her hips, "... We need to tell the Horde that you're Azeroth's chosen."

Baine looked sharply up, "You're what ?"

"Surprise," Sylvanas said dryly.  She pulled the amulet out from under her shirt.  "I met Magni Bronzebeard down in Silithus.  He said that Azeroth has chosen me as her protector, and to prove the point, this amulet just... appeared.  It can absorb Azerite, heal her wounds... and incidentally lets me use her strength to do things.  Like obliterate Old Gods. There’s nothing left of C’thun. Not even his minions. They all shattered and disintegrated. I merged with the Worldsoul for a moment, and we… ended him.”

Baine stared at her dumbly, he had no idea what to even say.

Jaina continued, "The Horde relies and focuses on their shamans and druids far more than the Alliance. If the Horde is so fractured about your appointment to Warchief... This could be what changes minds."

"True," Sylvanas said. Giving Jaina a small smile. She hadn’t even considered how this might help her bring the Horde closer together.  "If you stand by my side in support, Baine, that could be key.  With Vol'jin's death, you're the closest thing the Horde has to a spiritual centre.  Ever since Garrosh sidelined all but the orcs, the different Horde races have found it harder to unify, while the Alliance just centres around... well, right now, around Anduin and the Light."

Baine was staring at the amulet, silent for a long time, "... If that is the Earth Mother's will." He still seemed rather in shock.

"I understand, Baine," Sylvanas said with a small sigh.  "I accused Magni of telling a bad joke when he told me."

He looked up, "... I'm sorry, Warchief. It's not the fact of who you are that this surprises me but... what you are. The Earth Mother gives us blessings and tests that may seem strange at first but are only ever meant to strengthen us... But she is the font of life... And you're..."

"Undead." Jaina finished shortly, "Will you help her?"

Baine nodded, "Of course."

"I don't claim to understand it,” Sylvanas admitted. “But using the amulet came so naturally. Healing fractures just felt like healing myself. And... I was dreaming while I was unconscious, after killing C'thun. I don't dream normally. Only when something powerful has happened, or something is touching my mind or... whatever. I saw Azeroth. I think she likes me."

"You saw the Worldsoul?" Jaina questioned gently.

"I was..."

She struggled to remember.

"I was in a garden.  A dead garden.  I was brushing someone's hair, a girl.  Each stroke just... made plants grow everywhere.  I joked that green wasn't my colour, she laughed... then I woke up."

Jaina smiled faintly. Baine hummed.

The tauren stood, "We should return to Orgrimmar."

Sylvanas nodded.  "I agree.  To Orgrimmar it is. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.  I'll need the coordination of the entire Horde if we're going to heal Azeroth.  The Horde... and the Alliance."  She grimaced.  "Which may be a harder proposition."

Jaina nodded, "As you said though, the Alliance rallies around Anduin and with this news... It gives him more leverage to have others trust you."

"We can hope," the darkfallen said darkly. It was true, though, she’d started getting on better with Anduin…  "I'll get my men together.  We'll fly this time, I want to oversee the aftermath of the Mak'gora."

Jaina shifted, "... Am I coming?"

Sylvanas reached out a hand to Jaina.  "Do you feel strong enough?"

Jaina took it, nodding.

"Then you'll be by my side. Apart from anything else, I'll definitely want you there when I head north to the Alliance."  She grimaced a little.

Jaina squeezed her hand, "Tyrande at least will be polite. She's not trusting in nature... But this peace was welcomed by her."

Sylvanas nodded.  "And hopefully Malfurion will see the wisdom and urgency in my message.  As to the rest... well, that'll have to wait for Stormwind."

Baine rumbled thoughtfully. “I’ll go make arrangements, then. Warchief, Jaina.” He left, still seeming a little shellshocked.

Sylvanas gave a rueful chuckle. “He looked like a pebble would have knocked him over when you said I was Azeroth’s chosen.”

Jaina leaned into her a little. “It’s going to take some time for everyone to process this, love.”

“I know, I know. I’m not the saviour type. Unless you count for my own people.” Sylvanas shook her head. “Maybe she figured that being the planet we all depend upon makes her ‘my people’, which… it does. More responsibility I never asked for, but which I must accept.”

Jaina gave her a curious look, but didn’t ask further.

“Oh.” Sylvanas rallied. “I might have found a goblin liaison for you. A woman named Nazzy, one of Gallywix’s daughters. One of the boldest and most heroic of that breed I’ve ever met. You’d like her. She’s getting things under control in Silithus, but after that she’ll hopefully be available.”

Jaina perked up. “No harm in talking to her. I can try to find an orc in Orgrimmar, too. So long as I don’t get a relapse, With any luck I can get all the representatives I need together in Kalimdor without taking us off course. I just have one last tauren to interview, she went with you to Silithus…”

“Dawnstride?” Sylvanas raised an eyebrow. “For someone entirely unprepared to face an Old God she held her own. We might not be here if it weren’t for her efforts.”

“I’ll take that as a recommendation,” Jaina said with a yawn.

“Tired?” Sylvanas teased. Did I wear you out?

Jaina rolled her eyes. “I got barely any sleep last night worrying about you, Windrunner. Give me a break.”

“Why do you always resort to my last name when you’re annoyed with me?” Sylvanas hummed.

“Like you don’t call me ‘Proudmoore’ when you’re being a bitch.” Jaina yawned again. …and yes, you wore me out a little. You were… enthusiastic.

You weren’t complaining at the time, Sylvanas thought, grinning.

Jaina just rolled her eyes again. “I suppose I should go and talk to Dawnstride.”

Sylvanas’s catlike smirk faded. “I need to check on my new lieutenant, too. She fared far worse than me.”

Jaina’s expression softened. “I was amazed she was still alive. Her name’s Velonara, right?”

“Velonara Sunspear. She got lucky. She might not have made it if Dawnstride hadn’t been there. That woman’s got some knack for treating Forsaken.” Sylvanas shook her head. “But nobody could have helped Vethelia.”

Jaina gave her a sad, sympathetic look, and kissed her softly. I’m sorry.

Sylvanas pulled away. Grief and anger swelling in her mind like a tide.

I failed her .

“I should go,” she said aloud.

Jaina watched her go. Feeling the walls snap into place in her wife’s mind.

No matter how close they got… there was always something held back.

***

“General,” rasped Velonara.

The Dark Ranger was lying on a bed, the massive gaping hole where her arm and part of her torso used to be gently oozing ichor. That was bedding that would probably need to be burned.

Sylvanas knelt by her. “Don’t you dare try and sit up. It’s a miracle you survived. Are you getting enough meat?”

“As much kodo as I can stand.” Velonara made a face, then lowered her voice. “It’s helping, although… not as much as… you know.”

It was true. Proper humanoid flesh was the best medicine for any undead, and the Forsaken were no exception. But it wasn’t always the easiest to get. But it was something they tried not to talk about too much around non-Forsaken. Or, indeed, at all.

“I’m sending you back to Undercity,” Sylvanas said firmly. “They can treat you better there.” She held up a hand to forestall the complaints. “And I’d be sending you back even if you weren’t grievously wounded. I need someone I can trust keeping an eye on things. The Desolate Council doesn’t have the authority or the respect to hold things together.”

Velonara grimaced, only partly in pain. “General… if I’m your lieutenant… that means I can speak freely to you, right?”

Sylvanas raised an eyebrow. “I suppose.”

“They lack authority or respect because you gave them neither,” Velonara said bluntly. “They’re a circus and they know it. You’re the only ruler the Forsaken have, and that’s how you want it.”

“What are you implying?” Sylvanas replied, a dangerous edge creeping into her voice.

Velonara shook her head with a wince. “General, you can’t just… be the final arbiter on everything, not any more. You’re not just our Dark Lady any more. You’re Warchief, with responsibility for the entire Horde. More than that, you're the champion of Azeroth. You need to empower someone to keep the Forsaken together when your attention is elsewhere.”

“I am,” Sylvanas growled. “You.” She pinched her brows, tried to lower her hackles. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I’ve lost focus. I’m spending far more time away from Undercity than I’d like. That’s why I chose you. I don’t need a warmonger or a soldier or a yes-man, I need someone willing to embrace this new world we’re in. That’s you, more than any of my Rangers. I know you still write poetry, and… we need someone like that. I’m giving you the authority to do whatever you need to lead the Forsaken in my absence.”

Velonara was silent for a moment, then she nodded. “Very well. I will, of course, do what I can in your absence.”

Sylvanas had a feeling the woman wasn’t satisfied, but… this wasn’t a discussion she had the time or the brainspace for. “I’m leaving for Orgrimmar tomorrow. You should wait until you can handle the journey back to Lordaeron. I’m not sure how long I’m going to be in Kalimdor.”

“Stay safe, General.” Velonara awkwardly reached out with her left hand, grasped Sylvanas’s arm. “I know the others will watch over you, but… be careful. You’ve got the whole world relying upon you now. I can’t imagine how much pressure that is. We’re all with you.”

Sylvanas’s eyes softened. Placed a hand over her lieutenant’s. “I never doubted it.”

***

A positive swarm of wyverns rose from Thunder Bluff the next morning. Baine with some of his guard joined the Forsaken contingent, Jaina and Sylvanas sharing a mount - ostensibly in case either of them had a relapse, and for no other reasons whatsoever.

This would empty most of Thunder Bluff’s stable, but it would enable them to make the journey to Orgrimmar in a few hours rather than two days.

It was... oddly normal looking when they arrived. The city looked mostly undamaged, there were very few signs of fighting... But there was tension in the air... And it was a Mag'har orc who greeted them, not a greenskin. "Warchief. Geya'rah is waiting for you in Grommash Hold."

Sylvanas nodded as she slid off the wyvern, turning to help Jaina down.  "Thank you, captain."  Briefly she considered asking further questions, decided to save them for Geya'rah. With the entire contingent in tow, she set off towards the heart of the city.

The ground level was a different story then above. There had been blood in the streets here that was only partly cleaned up even now, and a crew moving through repairing damage to buildings.When they entered the hold proper they found not just Geya'rah, but Lor'themar, Gallywix, Ji, Mayla Highmountain, the graceful figure of Thalyssra... And Saurfang himself. The highlord was chained from ankles to wrists and sat on the edge of the dip in the floor, looking somewhere between asleep and meditating.

"Warchief." Geya'rah tapped her chest, "Welcome back to Orgrimmar."

Sylvanas glanced around.  "You assembled everyone, I see," she said calmly. That would make things easier. She cocked an eyebrow at the presence of Thalyssra, but… presumably that would be explained. "I hear that there was some trouble here while I was otherwise occupied."

"This spat between cousins should not deter us from more pressing matters." Geya'rah said simply, "Once Varok has either died a warrior or a coward we can move on to handling what is coming from the Naga."

"We have more than the Naga to contend with now." The Warchief moved forward to her throne of office, but didn't sit.  "As some of you know, I recently travelled to Silithus, to investigate... recent developments there."

Jaina hung back, not wanting to draw attention to herself like last time as the crowd of men and women turned to look up at her.

Except Saurfang who remained immobile.

"The goblins," she said, nodding towards Gallywix, "Have been mining something they call Azerite.  It is nothing more or less than the crystallised blood and soul of Azeroth herself.  Massively powerful... but there were concerns among the council as to the damage that mining for this mineral could cause." The full recap probably wasn’t necessary, but… she wanted it fresh in their minds.

"I've been throwing it at alchemists and mages and all sorts, Warchief. Nobody, not nobody is saying anything about it explodin’ or nothing." Gallywix interjected. “Leastways, not without mixing it with other stuff.”

"Its properties are not the problem." Baine growled.

"I found a familiar face in Silithus,” Sylvanas continued, ignoring the bickering. “Magni Bronzebeard.  He showed me a fracture in the nature of Azeroth herself, caused by Sargeras's strike.  Azeroth could yet die as a result of that battle. She’s bleeding out."  She let that sink in.

That caused disquiet. Even Gallywix shut up.

"Although Silithus was the most obviously affected, Magni told me that there are numerous fractures across the face of Azeroth.  Each of them shifting, each of them bleeding, each of them... potentially worsening.  She needs our help, friends."

She plucked the amulet from under her armour.  "Magni didn't find me by chance.  Azeroth needed a champion, a protector.  Apparently... for reasons nobody really understands... she chose me, and gave me this.  The Heart."

There was a moment of silence... And then seemingly all hell broke loose. Everyone talking at once.

"What?" "How!" "When?" "What does that mean?" "Can we trust a dwarf?"

A bellow of "QUIET!” echoed over all of them, along with a huge hoofcrash. It was enough to restore order, at least for a moment. Baine pushed to the front, standing below her, "These are strange times. But have you all forgotten that Vol'jin himself had the vision that Sylvanas was to lead us? That the spirits granted him that vision? This must be why."

The darkfallen let silence fall.  "With this amulet, I can use the Azerite itself to repair the faults.  More than that, it let me borrow her strength.  The fractures in Silithus broke open C'thun's prison, and when I faced him... Azeroth and I destroyed him.  Utterly.  C'thun no longer exists, not even as rotting body parts. Even the Qiraji were hit by the backlash and rendered extinct."

"... How can that be?" Thalyssra asked quietly, "You cannot kill an Old God so utterly... Surely."

"My rangers, alongside the most heroic goblin I've ever known -" Not a high bar, she thought. "-fought through his Qiraji into the heart of his lair, and found him regaining strength.  I summoned the power of the Heart, and killed him - although at enough of a cost to myself that I fell unconscious.  Ahn'qiraj no longer exists.  It appears that everything that C'thun was simply... no longer is.  It's as unexpected to me as it is to you."

Thalyssra went rather quiet, contemplating this.

Saurfang slowly stood up, finally, the chains binding him clanging softly, "I've had enough of this farce. Geya'rah, you have your audience to show off to. Let's end this already."

The younger orc sneered, "Even now you're still a disrespectful and cowardly worm." Geya'rah glanced at Sylvanas, "I shouldn't wait any more. This needs to see it done. Warchief, I apologise for the interruption to your meeting."

Sylvanas gave the old orc a brief glance. Even with all he had heard, with the news of the end of the world, of her new acknowledgement by Azeroth herself… nothing. Too lost in his own bitterness and nihilism.

She looked back to Geya’rah. “Finish it.” Not acknowledging Saurfang any further. He just wasn't worth it.

He really had fallen far.

Geya'rah walked over to the old man, unlocking the padlock that bound him together and letting the chains fall before turning to head outside. He followed, as did most of her court. Baine was right, Geya'rah meant to make this as public as possible and make her claim on leadership blatant.

Jaina hung back however, off to the side in the quickly emptying throne room.

Sylvanas made to follow as well.  Paused, glancing at Jaina. Hiding?  Or not wanting to watch?

I don't want to give them excuses to doubt her by being there. Jaina shifted.

Sylvanas looked away for a moment. Married but separated... Even without the barrier between their souls they had to be apart on so many things...

Then she frowned. Had to be?

No.

She was the Champion of Azeroth, Warchief of the Horde, slayer of Old Gods and the first free Undead.

There was no ‘had to’ anything.

She held out her hand for Jaina to take.  "Come," she said simply.

Jaina frowned... But her confidence was rewarded by the hand that slipped into hers, "I don't think that's a good idea..."

"The Warchief requires her mate by her side," the darkfallen said simply. Gave an almost orcish grin.  Then stepped out into the street.

Jaina flushed despite trying to stifle it. A wave of nervousness fluttering through her as they emerged into the sun.

To say a crowd had gathered was an understatement; it seemed like between the onlookers surrounding the Hold, and those peering down from the tops of the canyon above, most of Orgrimmar was here. There was no official arena, Geya'rah had simply forced a perimeter, her Mag’har creating a ring.

"Yet again, Varok Saurfang, I challenge you to Mak'Gora. More than a traitor like you deserves." She flung his axe into the ground next to him as she stepped away, "I'll let you make your choice, old man. Die a coward's death, or a warrior's one."

Sylvanas stood.  At the front of the crowd, but not drawing attention to herself, her Rangers flanking her, Jaina by her side, squeezing her hand anxiously.  Watching as the Warchief should, but... not interfering.

That was right, wasn't it?

Orcish culture was very simple.  Except when it wasn't.

Geya'rah stood, watching, but Saurfang did not move. The Mag’har grunted, stepping forward, but when she went to swing and end this quickly he ducked her attack, snatching up his weapon as he swung back at her, catching her glancingly along the side, enough for blood to spill. She got out of the way of his attempt to grapple her, and the fight started for real. The crowd around them erupted in noise and it was hard to tell if there was any split in who was rooting for who or if they were just excited.

This was not a human duel, there was little sizing up or planning out. The two orcs fell on each other brutally and without mercy, swing after swing, blows and dodges, shouts and curses... It was intensely brutal.

Sylvanas watched silently.  She'd fought both with and against orcs, had done for decades now. This was nothing new to her.  And the cool of death made it easy to at least... appear neutral.

Still, she squeezed Jaina's hand slightly.  There was definitely part of her that revelled in the violence on display. Her heart might no longer beat, but she could feel the swell of excitement, the hunger for bloodshed…

Whether it was the dead part or the elf part... she'd long since stopped being able to tell what was what.

For a while it wasn't clear just who was going to come up on top, both were bruised, both were bleeding... Then suddenly Saurfang caught an opening and Geya'rah's eye caught his axe. If she’d moved even an inch the wrong way, it would have killed her on the spot, but her cry of pain and the spray of blood made it clear that damage had been done. Most would have fallen back, the pain and shock causing them to stagger. Saurfang seemed to expect that too as he shifted back to prep another assault rather than force on and pin her.

That was the last mistake he would ever make.

Geya'rah’s own weapon swung out as she lunged forward, catching Saurfang in the side. The swing was so hard that it didn’t stop, carving through orcish flesh until it ripped out the front, all but eviscerating him.

Saurfang tried to dodge back, stumbling, but the younger female did not make his mistake, she only brought her axe to bear again and this time it was straight into his neck, burying the blade into his spine but not quite beheading him.

The crowd suddenly became silent,  Saurfang was twitching and making wet sucking noises as his lungs tried for air from their new hole... Geya'rah was on her back breathing wetly...

The silence continued as she finally managed to her feet, blood streaming down her face from her ruined eye and broken nose. But she didn't flinch as she grabbed her axe and ripped it free. She held it aloft and howled, " LOK-TAR OGAR! FOR THE HORDE! "

“FOR THE HORDE!” Sylvanas called in response, her rangers joining the chorus..

The howling cries to match from the crowd were enough to deafen.

If she'd been alive, her heart would have been pounding.  As it was... she shivered slightly with the built up energy.

She wasn't one of them.  But that didn't mean she didn't understand them.  She'd had to force herself to learn at first, to try and fit in, but now... now these were her people.

Not as much as the Forsaken, of course.

But she would still protect them.

The scars would be brutal, but... she suspected that Geya would have preferred this to getting away unscathed.  Now she had a story to tell.  Now she could point to her face and say ‘I was given this by a mighty warrior... and I was better than him.’

There would be celebrations after this.

And very likely a boom in the population in less than a year's time. These kinds of things tended to happen with orcs and those who indulged in their culture. She could even feel Jaina's heart race even though she didn't join in, too unsure if she should.

As the cheering continued Geya'rah tromped over to her, slamming her fist onto her chest, "As  I take the place of Highlord, I pledge myself to the Horde and to you, Warchief Sylvanas Windrunner! Champion of Azeroth!"

Sylvanas returned the salute.  "I accept your pledge, Highlord Geya'rah of the Mag'har.  Bring strength and honour to your people."

Then she chuckled, red eyes flashing.  "Now go get your face seen to before you pass out.  What kind of Highlord misses their own ascension party?"

The Mag’har grinned with only a slight wince, "Dunno, I think the red suits me." But still she inclined her head, not just to Sylvanas, but to Jaina as well, before she turned and headed off to find a healer.

Jaina squirmed a little ...Well. I'm wet.

Quite the specimen, isn’t she? Do you forgive me for my wandering eyes now, love? Sylvanas teased.

Jaina snorted, You're not going to let that go are you? I had a split second of knee jerk jealousy... Honestly...

Is it so wrong that I take you seriously? Come on.  We're not going to get any work done in Orgrimmar tonight.  Let's enjoy ourselves.  Without a nosy troll looking over our shoulders for a change.

***

For all the grievances, Saurfang was given a proper, respectful pyre. He likely wouldn't have received that if he'd simply let himself be killed. The old orc had been a hero once, before bitterness and nihilism had consumed him.

Late afternoon became evening, evening became night. It was a blur of food, alcohol, games, dancing, music - and no shortage of couples (or sometimes groups) vanishing into darker places to fuck like mad.

When orcs celebrate, they take it extremely seriously.

Late into the night, as Sylvanas and her wife curled up in the sprawling, orc-sized bed (not one of Garrosh's, she'd had those burned) that night, nestled in the furs and blankets and pleasantly buzzed off of orcish liquor and aggressive sex, the darkfallen let herself hope that maybe... just maybe...

"Perhaps we can have a happy life together.  Even if it's a while before moments like this are the rule... some day they will be," she murmured.

She felt the swell of Jaina's emotion, cuddling closer, a soft smile pressed to her cold skin.  It felt like for the first time in a while, Jaina actually felt hope rather than just rationalised it.

"They will be." She hummed softly, "A happy life with you sounds like a fine fate."

"Good," Sylvanas purred.  "Isn't this bed wonderful?  I do love the one back home in Undercity, elven silk is glorious, but... this is a very comfortable change.  I bet you don't get beds like this in the Alliance."

"What's wrong with the one on the Proudmoore?" Jaina chuckled sleepily, "Are we going to have to have a rotating catalogue of beds to satisfy you, love?"

"Honestly the details of the bed are just a bonus.  I'm more interested in who's in it," the Banshee Queen purred, a hand reaching up to grope at Jaina’s chest.

Jaina giggled, reaching behind her to squeeze her ass, "You're lucky I'm so tired or I'd be going for another round."

Her heart had stuttered though, nervousness swelled, and she nuzzled closer, intent on finally getting some sleep.

Sylvanas squirmed good-naturedly.  "That was a good party..." she murmured.  "I... don't actually remember the last party I got involved with.  Rather than just... lurked on the edges of."

"We'll have to have a few more. At least one a year so that you can cut loose." Jaina relaxed again, stroking Sylvanas's back, "I demand at least one that involves dancing. And I don’t mean orcish dancing."

"Mmm, works for me.  I haven't danced in a long time."  Sylvanas nuzzled into Jaina's neck.  "You and me, doing a turn around the Stormwind ballroom... that'll turn heads."

"Mmm…” Jaina hummed. “We'll have to dance at the wedding... It's traditional so... They can't raise too many eyebrows."

"Only question is…” Sylvanas mused, “How we'll handle the Horde wedding... I don't know how comfortable you'll be with some of the orcish traditions..."

"Two weddings? Not just one?" Jaina chuckled, "What is the orcish tradition then?"

"Well, it's only fair, right?" she hummed.  "They'll feel left out if we get married in Stormwind or something.  But they take preparing the two prospective mates very seriously.  Thorough examinations to ensure that you're appropriately trained to sire offspring, all that kind of thing."

Jaina shifted, opened her eyes. "... Um... What?"

"Oh yes,” Sylvanas replied. Red eyes glinting in the dark. “Very thorough. There's scrolls about old techniques and fertility rituals.  They have the more experienced men and women acting as drill sergeants throughout."

Jaina squirmed, "... You can't be serious. I've never heard of such a thing." She pulled back, looking up at her wife incredulously, "We... We can't even have children!"

"You should see the size of the dildos they use to make sure you can stretch properly."

The mage shoved her chest lightly, "Ok, now I know you're just being an ass!"

Sylvanas burst into laughter.  "I had you going there, didn't I?"

"No!" But Jaina laughed too, "... Alright maybe for a moment!" Despite that she was pulled into a kiss.

Sylvanas purred, kissed her softly back.  "Actually the ceremonies I've seen have been very sweet.  A little dramatic, but they don't take themselves that seriously for the most part."

"What happened to the combination of Thalassian, Kul Tiran wedding idea? Think that won't be enough for them?"

"I suppose we'll see,” Sylvanas replied. “I don't know, Jaina.  I just..."

She squirmed. I think you're worth celebrating.

Jaina paused, her heart fluttering before she pulled Sylvanas into a slow, passionate kiss.

... We'll figure out what we want... There'll be time. Whatever or however many times. I know that when it was suggested Anduin meant it to be a political move... A way to visibly bridge the gap but... As much as possible I want it to be for us. You're worth celebrating too.

Sylvanas closed her eyes.  Nuzzled Jaina again.

Happy.

It was a nice feeling, she mused, as she drifted into unconsciousness.

***

Happy and content was a very good word for it, the feeling in the garden. The girl had tied up her wild-growth hair to keep it out of the way. She was pulling back a bow but... Not well. It was a little big for her yet, but she loosed the practice arrow, missing the target pinned to the dead tree. She huffed, looking up imploringly for guidance.

Jaina sat a little ways away, her tea stirring itself as she looked over a book... But she was only half paying attention, more interested in watching Sylvanas teach the girl how to shoot.

Sylvanas shook her head.  "No. You need to stop treating it like a weapon, like something separate."

She raised her own bow, pulled the string smoothly, in slow motion.  "See how I make it part of me?  How the line of my arm continues into the string?"

The bright eyes watched her, trying to take in all of it... Then she tried again, pulling back in emulation of Sylvanas. The form was much better, but she aimed a little too low, missing the mark but hitting the tree.

"You can do it, sweetheart." Jaina encouraged gently.

"Better.  But remember, the arrow drops.  It doesn't go in a straight line.  Aim above your target."  The elf bent to put herself on Azzy's level as the girl drew another arrow.  Nudged it upwards.  "Try that."

The girl bit her lip, tried to steady the bow... And then let fly. The practice arrow buried through the dead tentacle pinned to the tree and she let out a squeal of delight, dropping the bow and all but flinging herself into Sylvanas's arms, hugging her tightly.

"You see?"  She lifted the girl up for a moment, squeezing her.  "You'll be killing monsters in no time, just like me."

Azzy nodded vehemently, but clung on for a moment longer... She would eventually be strong and proud but for now she was vulnerable. She pulled back slightly and looked over at Jaina, smiling brightly and pointing at the impaled tentacle.

"Yes, I saw." Jaina chuckled brightly, "You did so well!"

But when Azzy turned back towards Sylvanas she was pale... She was covered in gashes... She was bleeding... Dying slowly in Sylvanas's arms...

Sylvanas’s eyes snapped open as the dream disintegrated.

Panic in her heart.

"Warchief!" a voice called. The heat of Durotaur had made Jaina sweat a little in her sleep, leaving her sticky and uncomfortable. The sun was high... Maybe around noon, "The highlords are gathering in the hold."

“Fuck,” Sylvanas whispered.

Chapter Text

Sylvanas took a moment, closed her eyes. Pushed that horrible image from her mind. “I’ll be right there,” she called back, squirming to get up.

This was embarrassing.  She'd never needed to be woken before.  She barely slept in general, even by the standards of the undead, who mostly slept in the name of maintaining some sort of humanity. Now she just... kept sleeping in.  Visions, dreams, nightmares... just plain recovering... she was going to start instructing people to wake her at a sane hour, like dawn.

Jaina groaned. Sylvanas could almost feel her dull hangover pain. "I'm going to make a spell that lets me just... jump forward in time to the part where life is calm and happy and there aren't highlords waiting on the warchief..." She tugged the fur blanket over her head to hide from the light as she grumbled.

"Little too much to drink, Lady Proudmoore?" Sylvanas hummed as she got dressed, pulling herself together with some sass.  "I'll let you sleep in for now.  I'm a generous wife."

"My eternal gratitude, Lady Windrunner," came the muffled, grumbled response from the fur-lump in the bed.

"Glad to hear it."  The Banshee Queen left, pulling her hood up as usual.  Hoping that they hadn't been left waiting for too long.  Not a good look.

The good news was that it didn't look like they'd been waiting long. The bad news was it looked like they had been waiting. Thalyssra was present again, she noted.

Still, she didn't receive any glares or anything - not least because a few of the group looked a little the worse for wear themselves. In fact, Geya'rah grinned cheekily at her, "Have a good night, Warchief?"

A little teasing she could take, under the circumstances.  "Pleasant enough.  And you, Highlord?"

"Excellent, thank you." The Mag’har threw a suggestive smirk towards Baine.

Sylvanas glanced between the two briefly, suppressed her own smirk. For the Horde indeed.

"We have news,” the tauren said, pointedly not looking at or reacting to the orc. “The Cenarion Circle has been diligently spreading word and teaching how to locate the infiltrators... And the Night Elves have sent word that they need to speak with you, Warchief. They are asking to meet in Ashenvale. Tyrande asks that Lady Jaina Proudmoore come as well."

Sylvanas nodded, feeling relieved.  Tyrande was a bad enemy to have, but... she was there to defend her people.  It was a desire she understood.  If she was the first that she'd reveal her new status to... it could be managed.  "That will work well." Of course… she was assuming this was just about the naga.  "Any word from Silithus, Gallywix?"

"Operations back to normal, Warchief." The goblin crossed his arms, "Nothing from the south."

"After some consideration, I've decided to allow you to continue your operations.  I'm sure I don't need to emphasise how dangerous actual mining for Azerite is.  Azeroth is wounded, and exacerbating those injuries will make Outland look like paradise.  But you're in the best position to harvest the surface layer and sniff out other deposits and fractures.  Call it... supply control to keep prices high, if that appeals to your sense of economics."

Gallywix stroked his chin... Probably his chin anyway, "Well, thank you kindly, Warchief." It'd keep him satisfied... for now anyway. If he’d felt any anxiety about how the newly declared Champion of Azeroth would judge his new moneyspinner… he didn’t show it.

The Warchief turned her attention back to her two main commanders. "Geya, Baine; I will need you to work together closely.  With the danger of Naga infiltration, the likelihood of Old Gods on the move as their prison fractures, and all the usual minor crises... Kalimdor needs a tight ship.  I'm hopeful that the Alliance will be on the same page, but actual cooperation will take time. When I’m done with the kaldorei, I’ll be returning to Lordaeron and chasing Azerite fractures; Kalimdor will be yours to keep an eye on."

Geya'rah saluted and Baine nodded, "Yes Warchief."

"Lor'themar.  Undercity is more vulnerable than I'd like right now.  The Desolate Council..."

She trailed off.  Grimaced.  "Undercity lacks real leadership while I'm in Kalimdor, and the situation will be keeping me from Lordaeron longer than I'd planned.  Keep an eye on things. I’m sending one of my lieutenants back to take command, but your sharp instincts may be needed."

Her history with the Council was... murky.  Made more so by Nathanos being her go-between with them.

Which, given how much he’d manipulated her… left her questioning their loyalties and motivations.

Lor’themar inclined his head, "It will be done."

Speaking of which.

"I should also announce, given that many of you worked with him, that Nathanos Blightcaller was recently executed for treason."

Baine had told her that he knew. Lor'themar's lack of reaction told her that he'd known as well. Geya'rah looked characteristically angered, the others a mixture of shock and confusion.

"Treason? What happened?" Geya'rah demanded.

"He had a radically different view of the future of the Forsaken.  One that I, in my... aggression had unthinkingly fostered. Even, in my darker times, agreed with… but no longer."  It still tasted bitter in her mouth. To think that she’d considered him an ally, a friend, a confidante, someone whose loyalty she would never question… and to realise he’d been using her.  "He attempted to assassinate Lady Proudmoore, under the misguided belief that raising her as one of us would strengthen the Horde.  Perhaps it would, but the cost would have been too high."

"Was she harmed?" Geya'rah looked like she might honestly go find Nathanos in the afterlife and punch him. She was a smart orc... But she was still an orc.

"Not long term." Jaina’s voice was a little groggy as she entered the chamber, dressed and ready as though she'd not been a grumpy bed lump a few minutes prior, "Thank you for your concern, Highlord Geya'rah."

Sylvanas glanced at Jaina, inclined her head in greeting.  "Jaina."  I thought you were going to sleep in. Feeling better, love?

Ice magic is the perfect headache cure, the mage thought in response. "Sylvanas." She nodded, but didn't approach the throne, still playing it cautious.

The Warchief gestured to the seat next to her throne.  Less grand, but still fur lined and spiky.  She'd had quiet words with the orcs about bringing out something suitable for her mate, and now there it was, empty and in pride of place. Perhaps not as entertaining a prospect as pulling Jaina into her lap, but… close enough.  "Your seat awaits.  Now, to other business.  Lady Thalyssra, thank you for attending this council.  As you are aware, Azshara seems to have plans in motion, at least partially to do with her new shapeshifting spies.  Your people are the most recent to have non-hostile contact with her, yes?"

Jaina eyed it like she was going to object... But Sylvanas not giving her the space to refuse forced her hand and she climbed next to and sat as dignified as she could. Besides, she had to grudgingly admit that ice magic or no ice magic, sitting down was definitely preferable.

"As far as I am aware, Lady Windrunner." The Nightborne nodded.

Sylvanas leaned forward, steepling her fingers, red eyes boring into the High Arcanist. "Did you have any indication that her magical talents were shifting?  Or what her plans might be?"

"Not... In any detail," Thalyssra said after a moment's thought, "Though... If I'm honest, all of what Azshara has become is still a little new to us. We saw no signs of any shape-shifting from her subjects. And only what seemed like illusions from her."

"Typical of Azshara to keep her cards close to her chest," Sylvanas said grimly.  "However... the fractures and the Azerite leave little doubt as to why she's on the move.  The Old Gods have the chance for freedom, and as their greatest servant left... she's readying some scheme or other. The hammer blow hasn't fallen yet, but it will.  We need to ensure that we're ahead of them in this.  I'll contact the Argent Crusade for news of Northrend in case Yogg Saron is moving, but... N'zoth needs to be dealt with somehow.  If there are fractures below the ocean, then we will need all our resources. We’ve always managed to avoid engaging Azshara’s forces in their home domain, but this time… that may not be possible."

Lor'themar cleared his throat, "My lady, High Arcanist Thalyssra and I have been in discussions and she holds interest in joining Horde."

The dark elf nodded, "Considering your help during our time of need and our distant cousins... cool reception… my people wish to retake their place on Azeroth and we cannot stand alone. Especially if, as you say, Azshara is finally planning to act upon all her schemes. I doubt she’s forgotten Suramar’s betrayal."

Sylvanas paused, looking the woman over thoughtfully.  "I understand.  I was in your position not so long ago.  You are willing to swear loyalty to the Horde from this day forward?"

"Gladly," Thalyssra said.

"Do you have a weapon?  Ceremonial will do."  The darkfallen rose to her feet.

Thalyssra stepped forward, holding her staff in front of her.

Sylvanas took it, paused.

The oath of loyalty was... very Orcish.  She'd accepted it a few times, most notably from Geya'rah.  But an elf giving an orcish oath to another elf just felt strange.

Still, there was power in it.  So even if there was a glint of irony in her eye, she still spoke with certainty.  "Then kneel, and repeat after me."  She gestured to the other Highlords, not that they likely needed the prompt to stand and surround Thalyssra.

The Nightborne knelt down as the others gathered around, Jaina stood in respect but did not approach.

Sylvanas shifted slightly, silently sounded out the harsh, foreign words, and then recited, pausing to let the other elf echo her. "Lok'tar ogar!  Victory or death - it is these words that bind me to the Horde.  For they are the most sacred and fundamental of truths to any warrior of the Horde.

"I give my flesh and blood freely to the Warchief.  I am the instrument of my Warchief's desire.  I am a weapon of my Warchief's command.  May my people bring strength and glory to the Horde.

"From this moment until the end of days I live and die…”

The final words were a roared chorus from all present.  "For the Horde!"

Thalyssra repeated it back, cried out with them... But there was something amusing about a Mage, even one who led a resistance and leads her people, crying out about flesh and blood and strength and glory. But she made no fuss and pulled no faces. Even if there was a brief moment where their eyes met, sharing the faint amusement in the situation.

Sylvanas held the staff out for Thalyssra to take.  "Rise, warrior of the Horde."

The High Arcanist stood, taking it back, bowing as she did so, "Thank you, Warchief."