Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything is owned by Blizzard.

#

The night sky was clear above Theramore. The air was warm and humid. A cold breeze soothed the warmth now and then.

The town was sleeping. People had retired to their homes, tired after a long day. Guards strolling around the city, making sure it was safe.

The only one who didn't sleep was Jaina Proudmoore. She couldn't. So many thoughts rushed through her head.

Today marks the end of the Third War.

She strolled over to her desk, with towers of scrolls and papers taking up most of it's space. But there was a single scroll that laid by itself. Tracing the edge with her finger, she looked at the well-known hand writing. She smiled as memories of a past less complicated entered her mind.

"Are you sure this is wise, Jaina?" Thrall asked. Jaina nodded.

"If it wasn't, I wouldn't offer advice." she smiled.

Thrall nodded and began writing. She softly leaned over his shoulder to look.

"You have beautiful hand writing, Thrall." she blurted.

Thrall turned around to face her. She got flustered.

"Ehm..." Jaina paused.

Thrall smiled at her and said, "I remember a time when I thought of how human it looked. I was ashamed."

Jaina placed gently a hand on his shoulder, "Never be ashamed."

He placed a hand over hers and nodded.

She looked at her hand, clearly remembering the warmth of his skin upon hers. Jaina sighed and sat down heavily on the chair beside her desk. Looking at the scroll on the desk. Her heart throbbed.

We used to celebrate this day together.

She sighed and placed a hand on her chest.

More memories entered her mind.

They walked silently beside each other, the wind was cold and biting.

"I can guess as to why they call this place Icecrown." Jaina said, her voice a bit raspy.

Thrall looked at her, worriedly, "Are you cold?" he asked.

Jaina laughed, "You said it was urgent that we met so I forgot my cloak in the hurry."

Thrall stopped walking and took off his own cloak.

Seeing what he was doing, Jaina stopped him, "No. You will freeze without it."

Thrall smiled softly, "I have the elements to keep me warm, should I need it." he paused, "You do not."

He walked towards her, Jaina's protests deaf on his ears. He gently placed the cloak over her shoulders.

Jaina blushed and mumbled a small thank you.

She sat still, staring into the flames of the fire pit. Remembering the smell of him on his cloak. The smell of leather, wood and smoke.

Casting her gaze to the scroll she steeled herself and picked it up. Reading the first two lines out loud:

Greetings my friend.

I hope you are well. After everything that has happened these last few months I have good news.

She stopped there, not wanting to read anymore. Once again she was attacked by memories.

After the battle at The Citadel was over and the Lich King was dead, people rejoiced. The scourge was finally gone and it's horrible master had been killed.

As every man, woman and child of various races were happy, Jaina was not.

Her first love, the man she had once thought she would marry, the man she had seen fallen into darkness and abandoning the light, was dead.

She stood atop a small hill, her staff in hand and her back stiff. Her eyes was red and swollen. She had allowed herself to mourn.

Suddenly she felt hand being placed on her shoulder. Startled, she turned around to find Thrall standing behind her. He looked tired and worn.

"So this is where you have been hiding." he said softly. Jaina didn't answer but kept looking at him.

He removed his hand, "I was worried, if I may be honest." he said.

Jaina just stared at him, her voice caught in her throat.

Thrall looked intently at her, "You have been crying."

The lump in her throat returned and her eyes watered.

Not knowing what to do with an upset female, Thrall said nothing.

Her voice staggering and raspy, "I loved him." she whispered. More to herself than to any else.

Thrall felt out of place, he had never seen Jaina weak or crying. She always seemed posed and strong.

Jaina suddenly found herself enveloped in his arms. But then the barrier broke and she cried. She put her arms around his torso and cried into his shoulder.

A tear escaped her eye. She quickly wiped it away. Once again picking up the scroll she continued reading.

She gently put down the scroll on her lap. Her heart hurt. Her soul screamed. It was like she had lost a part of herself then.

I...

It hurt more than she could imagine. Witnessing their wedding wasn't bad enough. Now this too.

I... Am happy for him. He deserves it more than any other.

And yet she felt resentment. Towards Thrall, Aggra and fate. But afterwards she hated herself for it.

Life is often unfair.

Suddenly the tears started rolling in quiet waves. Wetting the scroll.

And the last line read:

Aggra has given birth to my son.

Before her tears blurred out the text.

#

Thrall couldn't sleep. Aggra was already sleeping along with the baby. His son.

I have a son.

He smiled to himself. Looking down at Aggra in his arms, he kissed her forehead and rose from the bed. Aggra mumbling and turning over on the other side.

The tent was cozy. The soft light from the fire had dimmed down a bit, leaving a gentle orange glow.

Thrall left the tent and walked out on the beach. The sea in front of him, the waves doing little to calm him.

His thoughts were scattered all over. Aggra, his son, The Earthen Ring, Garrosh and the Horde. And yet the most prominent thought was of a human woman far away from him.

He looked up at the stars. His hands clenched. He softly growled.

I have been blessed with a loving mate and a son. It seems that I am ungrateful.

Thinking of Jaina hurt him in more ways that one. Their friendship was something he always had held in high regard. He respected her more than any other. She was an honourable woman. Strong and independent. She understood him. Guided and gave him advice. Gave him comfort when all seemed lost. She had rescued him more times than he could count on his fingers. She made him see the light when all else seemed dark.

And she understood that with the title they both have, duty and responsibility would always come before wishes and desires.

He did not doubt his love for Aggra. He loved her. He would give up his life for her. And she had given him a son.

But Aggra was not Jaina.

And that hurt him. He hoped that he would never be forced to choose between the two.

As much as he loved Aggra, he also loved Jaina.

But my hearts desires is not more important than my duty.

He sighed. He looked down at his hands.

How many times had he not held Jaina? Placed a hand on her small shoulder? Carried her in his arms? Held her hand in his?

He laughed softly, as memories came into his mind.

The way her eyes shone when she laughed, her dimples when she smiled. How she could be the serious leader one second and a child the next. How she would twirl a strand of hair around a finger when she was nervous. How fiercely she fought for what she believed in. How far she would go for her people. How stubborn she is.

She would have been a worthy mate. She would be most sought after were she an orc.

He remembered their secret meetings, where they discussed various strategies, politics and war. When they talked about the old days. The often humoruos scrolls she would send him. They were something he had looked forward to read when he was Warchief.

But even then, what he wished was impossible.

I...

At their wedding ceremony, Jaina had cried. Mostly to herself. She thought it wouldn't be noticed. But he did notice it. And that hurt him. Someone might as well have stabbed him in the heart.

And to know that I was the reason...

She had left shortly after, before he had had a chance to speak with her.

They had never said the word love to each other. Because they both knew that that word had no place in their relationship.

But he didn't doubt that she did love him just as he loved her. And probably always will.

It's like my heart is split in two. Aggra has one part and Jaina the other.

He remembered the first signs of love for her when King Varian had spoken of marriage. With Jaina. The burning desire to rip his head off. Just because of jealousy.

Once again, he sighed.

I do not wish things to have turned out differently. But...

His heart hurt. And it would always hurt.

"Go'el. Why are you up?" Aggra stood in the opening to the tent.

Thrall turned to face her, "Sleep does not come to me."

Aggra went to him and took his hand, "Come back to bed, my love."

Thrall nodded and they began walking back towards the tent.

Perhaps in another life my heart will be whole.

#

Jaina stared at the sky from her window. The scroll in her hand.

How many times have I read the last line?

She wished that he hadn't sent her that scroll. Then she wouldn't be crying still. And her heart wouldn't hurt this much.

But duty before desire.

She went to the fire pit.

And threw the scroll in the fire.

And with it, my heart.

#

Yay! Finally done. This has been nagging at me for the past week. To be honest, I don't care for Aggra very much. I have shipped Jaina and Thrall since Warcraft III. So when I found out that Aggra was in the picture, to say I was pissed is an understatement. But Blizzard does what Blizzard has to do.

This story takes place before the event in the book Tides of War and before the events in the game.