A/N: This monstrosity was something I concocted after drinking an energy drink at 8:00 at night…and playing warcraft 3. I just thought screw it and put it up. Enjoy, and please review!
Warcraft belongs to Blizzard. I own nothing!
~8~8~8~
Beyond the shadow of the World tree, evil stirred. That evil having only one thing particular in mind. For all living things to be thrown into a world with out goodness, or hope. For chaos and fear to reign supreme.
Only three things, Jaina knew, that were keeping that evil dream form coming true: Orcs, humans, and night elves. She had promised herself, what seemed a life time ago, on the boat to Kalimdor, she would do anything to stop that evil. Now her promise was being put to the test. Jaina had seen the way the Orcish Warcheif looked at her. Curiosity and attraction smeared his facial features whenever they met. The night elves had gone to the base of the world tree leaving the two races, to hopefully, intercept the evil as long as they could, buying their druids enough time for their master plan.
The Horde, all knew was there only true prayer in the defenses, even though Jaina's base was on the first line of fire. In the orcish base camp, would be the strongest defense against keeping the Legion from their coveted prize.
It was up to the young sorceress to keep the peace between the two long time foes. She knew, and so did Thrall, he had her by the preverbal ear. If the Horde abandoned them, the whole operation was doomed.
The days after the last attack on the human keep had been somewhat peaceful. It was, Jaina knew, only a ruse to put them off guard. Nonetheless it would be enjoyable for a few days of not washing gore off the castle walls. Sundown was fast approaching, in the dim forest where it could be hard to tell night from day.
"Lady Jaina, the orc messenger, Dan'ruk, requests and audience," The guard outside announced.
"Send him in," She replied nonchalantly. Although a bit curious why the Warcheif would sent his apprentice so late.
The Orc boots thudded down the cool hall quickly. She looked up as he entered the room, cordially shaking his hand. "Throm'ka, Dan'ruk."
"Greetings, Warchief Proudmoore." He bowed slightly.
"What news?" She asked after formal greetings had been made.
"The Warcheif requests an audience with you." His tone was not one of one sent to ask about military issues, there was a hint of…something behind the words. Something Jaina couldn't quite place and didn't like.
Jaina heart pumped with reckless abandon, she thought she had gone several shade paler, but if she did, the Orc said nothing.
"Thank you; tell your Warcheif I will attend him shortly."
She tactfully kept a quiver on anxiety out of her voice, as the Orc bowed, leaving.
"Well, Jaina," she mumbled to herself, picking up her staff, the cold of the iron calming her somewhat. "You knew this would happen one of these days, be strong."
The familiar tapping of wooden sole souls, broke Jaina's train of thought. Her servant, Sara Brightguard, scurried in with a tray of tea. Jaina smiled at the woman who had adamantly told her she was coming to Kalimdor, even though Jaina had explained exactly what her plan was.
"The Brightguards have served the Proudmoore's for eight generations. I will not be the first in my family to abandon her mistress, for something as trivial as a legion of demons and the living dead." Jaina remembered Sara saying, the day she informed her of the trip. The irascible middle aged woman had simply snorted at the suicidal mission already making plans of what she need to bring along.
"Hot tea, missus," Sara said, bringing Jaina back to the present. "Supper will be along shortly as well."
"I won't be eating tonight." She replied quietly.
"If you're going to check up on the sentries again, I'll pack you something to go."
"I'm not going to check the sentries," Jaina said, the anxiety finally breaking through in her voice.
The loyal maid seemed to read Jaina's thoughts, staring at her in horror.
"He wouldn't dare…" Sara gasped, her voice trailing off into stunned silence.
All knew the scarifies men and women went through to keep power hungry warlords happy. Gold, marriages, and other less honorable things, that were required to keep them exactly where you wanted them. Sara had been the only one she had confided her suspicion to, and it seemed her prediction was coming true.
"He is an orc, but this worlds only hope. If I must give myself as the price…then so be it. And I trust you, Sara, to contact me, should anything go amiss here."
Jaina's tone told the servant, the discussion was over. Sara nodded holding back tears, unceremoniously hugging Jaina,
"Be safe, missus. And if you change your mind, give him a good smack and run like Fel!" Sara said, before scurrying off once again.
Her gut rolled in disgust at the prospect of what she was about to run into, but the thought of those washed walls over run with the dead, with no back up, drove her onward to speak the spell.
The world turned into a blinding flash of arcane brilliance, before the Orcish clan hall shimmered in its rightful colors. Its halls, usually brimming with activity was eerily silent. The Warcheif sat in his throne, adorned in skins and skulls of his enemies. The fire light danced off his scarred green muscular body, so that he cut quite a barbaric figure.
"Lady Proudmoore," He acknowledged her with a slight nod of his head. His cunning eyes seemingly looking behind her violet mage weave robe.
"Warcheif," She curtsied attempting to sound her most pleasant.
"How are things at the front?"
She managed an insincere smile. "All is quiet, for now."
"That is good, I hate to drag you away from your keep, but I have wanted to do this for a long while an it seemed like the best time."
Jaina winced at the words, but smiled at him. Thrall grinned, getting up from the throne. With a clap of his hand, peons rushed out placing a meal on the table. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as he sat down, the peons vanishing.
"I hope you haven't eaten yet?" Thrall asked hopefully.
She shook her head numbly, taking a seat on a fur at the low table. The table laid spread with steaming platters of bear and spider meat, which populated the forest, and bowls of the foreign fruit the elves ate. Flat bread lay in a stack at the middle of the table, meant for picking up the meat. Thrall grabbed a piece of bread, scooping meat into it.
"I much prefer forks and knives, but it is how my people eat." He shrugged.
The sorceress nodded, taking the bread and meat in the same fashion. It took all her will power not to burst into hysterical laughter, almost sure if she started it would never stop.
"So, tell me about your self. I know about your lineage but little else." Thrall said after taking a few bites of the meal.
For the first time since the messenger had come to see her, Jaina smile genuinely totally at ease with the Warcheif.
~8~8~8~
If Jaina was completely at ease, Sara Brightguard was the exact opposite. She paced, unable to do anything else. The kitchens, where Sara always preferred to be, gave her little comfort this night. The thought of that savage touching her mistress, no, friend, taking up all her attention.
A dark silent figure entered the kitchens placing a hand on Sara's shoulder. Sara was not a lithe young teenager anymore, but the jump she pulled could have fooled anyone.
"What's got you so high strung tonight, Miss Brightguard?" Milo asked.
Milo Silvercrest was a tall young man, with short cropped black hair, and brown eyes. He had chosen to follow Jaina to Kalimdor after she had saved his life from the gallows for theft. Everyone at the castle knew he was their best field scout, he could be standing three feet in front of you and you'd never know he was there.
"It's nothing, Milo," Sara lied, straightening out the folds in her smock but her tone told another tale.
"Oh, come on," He urged, taking her hand gently, "I know something's wrong, 'fess up."
Sara sighed in resignation, maybe he could help. She drew him into a corner whispering the story to him.
~8~8~8~
"So then the Murloc realizes he can't hope to kill me and Hellscream, so he runs back into the water bringing out five more of his friends!"
Jaina chortled at Thralls story, covering up her mouth, "What happened next?" she asked after catching her breath.
"They take one look at us, throw their friend back, and scatter like roaches!"
Tears coursed down the sorceress' cheeks as she held her sides, Jaina couldn't remember that last time she had such fun. Thrall to seemed to be enjoying there supper immensely, leaning back on one hand, looking her up and down in a friendly manner.
"I am glad you came," He smiled, after both their laughter had died down.
"So am I," She replied, standing up.
Thrall, the perfect gentlemen, stood up as she did.
"Your manners are impeccable," She commented with a smile.
She walked toward him to shake his hand, truly glad she had come.
"Careful," Thrall warned, just as Jaina tripped, sending her flying forward, into his arms. "The furs can trip you up, when not paying attention," He finished.
Jaina looked up to him, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, only to see Thrall stock still, a small poisonous dripping dagger at his throat.
"Let. Her. Go," Milo hissed into the Warcheif's ear, his face appearing right beside Thralls.
Getting into the orc stronghold had been tough, Darren had prayed to the light, he could get to her in time, coming in right when Thrall had caught Jaina. To see him touching her like that had made Milo's skin crawl and his blood boil.
"What are you doing, Milo," Jaina asked outraged.
"Saving you from the clutches of this savage!"
The scout looked at her confused, why would she be upset? Was she still going through with it for her people's safety? It was all the trepidation Thrall needed, elbowing Milo in the face, sending him crashing into a wooden support beam. Jaina froze him in place, fury in her eyes.
"What are you doing here, Milo," She asked again.
"You don't have to play dumb, Lady Proudmoore, Sara told me everything."
"Told you what?" Thrall growled at him, rubbing his sore neck.
"How our Lady would do anything to keep the peace and support we need from you savages," Milo stated proudly.
"We were having dinner," Jaina interjected, hoping Thrall would not catch on to Milo's implications. She moved showing him the table, watching him turn red with more than a little embarrassment.
"Well…I…Sara…You…" He stumbled looking back and forth from Jaina to Thrall, for a moment not sure how to continue. "Could you just teleport me back to the castle to crawl under a rock," He mumbled rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.
Jaina spoke the words to the spell, and grabbed Milo by his leather jerkin, pushing him roughly into the portal, "We will talk about this when I return." She growled.
The portal closed right after he was through and Jaina let out a gusty sigh.
"Thrall, I'm sorry for what just happened." She turned around to see him glaring at her in anger.
"I believe dinner is over, Lady Proudmoore," He bowed coldly.
It was now Jaina's turn to feel embarrassed, walking over to him.
"It's not what you think," She began, attempting to place a hand on his shoulder.
"O really," He snorted angrily, brushing her hand away. "When you came here this evening, did you expect me to throw you over my shoulder, take you to my chamber and take my pleasure with you till I was sated, because I know without the Horde this world is doomed? Or thinking having you legs open to me would somehow ensure us staying."
He was speaking the blunt honest truth, they both knew it. Jaina averted her head in shame, trying to avoid Thralls piercing gaze.
"That is exactly what you thought." He growled accusingly.
"Good night, Lady Proudmoore, I believe you can let yourself out." Thrall said once more, stalking off to leave her there.
"Thrall, wait," She called, following him.
He turned on her suddenly pinning her to the wall, completely blocking her magic with a purging spell. She struggled vainly against his iron grip, fear beginning to bubble up inside her.
"Is this how you pictured your night, under an orc warlord who doesn't give a damn about anything but his own desires?" Bringing his face closer to hers so that his tusk brushed her cheeks slightly he growled, "Would you still do it now, Jaina? If I told you this was the only way we would stay, would you whore yourself out to me? I hope you didn't think me to stupid to not have that thought cross my mind. "
He let her go stepping a few steps back. "Never would I do something so vile, nor would I never consider defaming your name like that."
He paused for a moment, and Jaina held her breath wondering what would happen next, had she unintentionally did exactly what she was trying to avoid? For the lights sake she hoped not!
"I am not angry you thought what you did. My people's former reputation hangs over us like a shadow of death." His voice softened pain showing clearly in his eyes. "I'm sad that you thought it of me." He sighed setting his back on the wall and sliding to the floor.
"Even you, the most understanding, tolerant, human I know, think me a ruthless warlord."
Jaina stood there for a moment, shocked more anger, which she rightly deserved, had not been thrown her way.
"I did," She admitted, sliding down beside him on the wall. "I believed all I read about your people in books and listened to the bards. But that was before tonight, before I got to know the Thrall under the tactician, and the diplomat. I got to know the orc under the armor, if you will."
He half chuckled at the last bit, turning in her direction. "To be honest, after we left the caves under stone talon peak, I laughed at you humans for picking you to lead them. We would bet on how long it would take you to get yourself killed."
She laughed good naturedly knowing she deserved that, and glad he did not hold his anger for very long, placing a hand on his arm.
"No one would blame you. Many people in the Eastern Kingdoms feel the same. What was a mage doing leading an army across the sea, a woman no less."
"I guess we both have prejudices to work on, Jaina." Thrall said offering her a smile and taking her hand.
"I guess we do, Thrall." She agreed with a slow nod.
"Well, let's start on them now. Friends?" He asked slowly, holding his hand out.
Jaina smiled taking his hand, and noticed how small her hand felt in his and how her heart fluttered. "Yes."