Love Is in the Putrescent Air of Undercity
Summary: Sylvanas/Jaina Valentine's Day fluff.
Disclaimer: Characters, settings, etc. are the property of Blizzard Entertainment.
Pairings: Sylvanas/Jaina
Author's Notes: AU, assuming the Theramore scenario had affected Jaina differently. I don't know either.
"It's not that I don't appreciate the charm bracelets that I was given today. Quite the opposite. But if I wished to wear them all at once, I would require a third arm protruding from my back like one of the Abominations." Sylvanas Windrunner had both her bare arms stretched out in front of her, her skin covered from wrist to elbow in stacks of the lovely charm bracelets that had been given to her by various members of the Horde races, particularly Forsaken.
"That would prove interesting." Jaina Proudmoore hooked her chin over Sylvanas' shoulder. "Perhaps you should wear only one of them and watch your—our—people bicker over whose you chose."
"They don't fit over my arm-guards."
"Ah. I've been foiled." Jaina nuzzled the base of Sylvanas' neck, adding a small bite to the gesture as Sylvanas' undead skin was not as sensitive as it had been when she was alive.
Sylvanas twisted around to face Jaina, who laid her head in Sylvanas' lap. With uncharacteristic tenderness, Sylvanas trailed her knuckles over the mage's cheek; Jaina closed the eyes that now glowed yellow with necromantic energy. Her skin was now a delicate shade of gray-pink, and most of her hair was still white, but the streak that had been left blonde by the mana bomb was now a dark bluish purple. "I've said it before," said Sylvanas, her voice warm and low, as if she were almost ashamed to be speaking so gently. "But you make a truly beautiful Forsaken."
"Thank you, my love," Jaina murmured. She loved having her head in Sylvanas' lap; it brought back fond memories.
It was a week and a half after the mana bomb had leveled Theramore that Jaina noticed she was having difficulty moving her right shoulder. Her skin began to whiten and her muscles to atrophy, and it soon became apparent that the condition was spreading. It seemed to Jaina that there was a disease-like quality to the affliction of her arm. None of the healers she spoke to had any idea how to stop the spread of the affliction…but she could have sworn she heard some of them muttering under their breath about similarities to the Forsaken's New Plague. Those "similarities" sounded like stretches at best, but as far as Jaina was concerned, the Forsaken were Horde, and the Horde had destroyed her beloved city.
According to the healers, Jaina was going to die slowly and horribly unless the arm was amputated. With only one arm, Jaina could never cast again. And she was having none of that, so she decided to go out with a bang and take someone deserving out with her while she was at it. She magically disguised herself as an undead and entered the Forsaken leader's "Royal Quarter". She let her glamourie disguise evaporate, accused Sylvanas of lacing the mana bomb with a new strain of plague…and her diseased arm chose that moment to be too incapable of movement to cast. Dreadguards and the val'kyr in attendance moved in to kill her…and the Dark Lady dismissed all of them. The undead elf approached Jaina slowly, and Jaina had asked if she were planning on torturing her.
Sylvanas replied, "Should I have any reason to want that, it would require nothing of me. The memory of your home and your people being decimated before your eyes is still fresh in your mind. You're still as raw as an open wound."
The sudden insight had caught Jaina off-guard, and her hot rage effervesced to leave room for the mourning and grief and trauma of the destruction of her city. She had collapsed, weeping, at the banshee's feet, and Sylvanas had sat beside her and rested Jaina's head against her thigh. When Jaina's tears had subsided, Sylvanas' hand was touching her bleached hair, not caressing or stroking, just there. "I was once like you, Jaina Proudmoore. I saw my people slaughtered and was powerless to stop it. Seeing the person responsible killed did not ameliorate my pain, either. And if you find it relevant, I opposed the destruction of your city, and my people were not involved in the creation of the mana bomb."
"I believe you," Jaina whispered.
After that, there was only a vague attempt at presenting Jaina as a prisoner in Undercity. Most prisoners of the Forsaken do not stay in the Banshee Queen's private quarters. They also did not seek medical help from apothecaries. But as the Forsaken had contributed nothing to the mana bomb that had been dropped on Theramore, Jaina was given the same diagnosis she had received from the Alliance healers she had consulted. There was one significant difference, though: if Jaina were willing to become a Forsaken, her arm could be amputated and replaced.
So now Jaina was undead, and she could cast again. The Forsaken had accepted Jaina as one of them, and in Undercity, she had no responsibilities other than training budding Forsaken mages. She was allowed to relax. She suffered from paralyzing, whanging headaches accompanied by visions of the mana bomb's detonation, and when that happened, she was allowed to retire to Sylvanas' chambers without consequence. Such ailments were uncommon among undead, but Sylvanas ordered an analgesic herbal tea developed for Jaina. It helped, but Sylvanas warned Jaina that the headaches were a result of her grief over the destruction of her home and that the tea would not work forever.
Jaina had come close to praying that her headaches would not affect the day of Love Is in the Air. So far, they hadn't, and now Jaina was ready to give Sylvanas her present.
"Sylvanas? I got something for you."
"You didn't have to." Sylvanas tucked a few strands of Jaina's hair behind one ear.
"I had an idea I thought you'd like." Jaina got up and searched through her belongings briefly before coming up with a small box. She brought it back to where Sylvanas was still lounging on the bed and proffered it.
"Oh, my. What a little romantic you are." Sylvanas pried the box open. Inside was a silver pendant on a chain. The pendant was formed in the shape of the Forsaken crest, known as the Icon of Torment. "Appealing to my sense of pride? Well, you do know me…" Sylvanas made as if to clasp the chain behind her neck; Jaina stopped her with a hand on her wrist.
"Turn it over."
Sylvanas did, and let out a little gasp. The back of the pendant was engraved with a simple but elegant message: "For Lady Sylvanas, who lifted me from the ashes and made a phoenix of me."
"My darling…" Sylvanas began. "I am not worthy of such a gift."
"Yes, you are." Jaina took the necklace from Sylvanas' hands and looped it around her neck to clasp it. "I know you are not overfond of romance, so think of this as my thanks for all you have done for me." Jaina kissed Sylvanas' cheek. "If not for you…I was headed down a very dark path."
Sylvanas turned to face Jaina and kissed her full on the mouth. "I may not be overfond of romance…but I also have something for you."
Jaina's eyes glowed a brighter shade of yellow. "You do?"
"Ah, you were certain I didn't get anything for you."
"It isn't like you," Jaina protested.
"No, it isn't, but this is an exception. You'll see." Sylvanas gathered Jaina's hair into a ponytail and left a tiny kiss on her forehead. "Come with me."
Sylvanas replaced her arm-guards, gauntlets and pauldrons, and Jaina walked with her into the stone hallways of Undercity. Jaina knew Undercity well, but Sylvanas took a few unfamiliar turns and soon they were walking down a passageway Jaina didn't recognize, and no other Forsaken were around. "My love? Where are we going?"
"You'll see." Sylvanas stopped in front of a set of double doors. "Cover your eyes."
"A surprise that requires me to cover my eyes? The Banshee Queen has sunk to such trite gestures?" Jaina smiled to show she was joking.
"Trust me," said Sylvanas simply.
Jaina closed her eyes and covered them with her hands. "Very well."
She heard one of the doors swing open. Sylvanas laid a hand on the small of her back and pushed gently, encouraging her to walk forward. Jaina obediently walked into the room with Sylvanas guiding her; behind her, the door swung shut. "Now open your eyes."
Jaina uncovered her eyes and gasped. She was standing in the middle of a large room that at first appeared to be circular, but was then revealed to be ten-sided. It had recently been repurposed; it was clear except for the bookshelves lining the walls, and not all of them were full. And there was a massive pile of books, some careworn to the point of falling apart, some just recently bound, and many in between, lying on an immense burlap cloth against one wall.
"It isn't much at the moment," Sylvanas was saying. "But there was interest in developing Gutterspeak more as a written language. Also, some Forsaken still remember Common or Thalassian and did not wish to forget, so they obtained some literature in those languages…I won't ask how."
"This is a library," Jaina whispered.
"Yes. Undercity Library." Sylvanas laid her hands on Jaina's waist. "And I'm putting you in charge of it."
"You're giving me Undercity Library?" Jaina murmured, gobsmacked.
Sylvanas lightly kissed and nibbled at the base of Jaina's neck. "Now you can study all you want."
"Well, maybe after I get everything organized…"
"I can assign new Forsaken to help you get everything in order."
Jaina whirled around and covered Sylvanas' mouth with fierce kisses. "I love you. Thank you so much."
Sylvanas allowed herself a small smile. "Why don't you take a look around?"
Jaina tightly grabbed hold of Sylvanas' hand and dragged her toward one of the bookshelves. "Are you sure there will be enough room?"
"Watch." Sylvanas pressed her palm onto a stone slightly lighter than the others beside the shelf. With a low grating noise, a stone door retracted and slid into a slot cut into the hallway that was revealed by the door's movement. Inside the hallway was a row of empty bookshelves with enough space beside them for typical Forsaken to walk two abreast. "Rest assured, there are stacks. If you wish, I can have the room hollowed out further instead of each stack being in a tunnel."
"The Forsaken do love their delightfully eerie tunnels." Jaina seized Sylvanas' hand and pulled her further down the tunnel.
"My darling, I'm afraid most of this stack is still empty."
"That's not why I'm continuing down here."
"Then what are you doing?"
Jaina pulled Sylvanas behind a bookcase and kissed her hard. "This," she murmured against the elf's lips.
"Ah." Sylvanas quickly discarded the armor protecting her arms, wrists and hands to wrap her arms around the other woman.
"I'm not sure how I can thank you," Jaina sighed.
"The words 'thank you' are perfectly sufficient."
"I'm not sure."
Sylvanas felt Jaina push Sylvanas' hood down and unhook it from around her neck, letting it fall to the floor. She sifted her hands through Sylvanas' pale hair for a moment before beginning to undo the fastenings on the Forsaken queen's chest piece; Sylvanas pulled away. "Jaina…what are you doing?"
"Let me continue. I'll show you." Jaina finished removing Sylvanas' chest piece and the cloth band she wore beneath it to keep the metal from irritating her skin. "You are so lovely…" Jaina trailed the back of one hand over Sylvanas' now-exposed chest.
Sylvanas took both of Jaina's hands in hers and kissed them. "My sweet, I certainly hope you don't feel like you owe me access to your body in exchange for the library." In fact, lovemaking was not a topic they had discussed. They had kissed, certainly, but had never gone much beyond that, and when Jaina wanted to sleep (it was optional for Forsaken), she did so in Sylvanas' bed. But Sylvanas had assumed that, though Jaina was now undead herself, she would be opposed to having sex with a creature of undeath. Most Forsaken avoided such things, even if they were as intact and well-preserved as Sylvanas or Jaina. Also, Sylvanas suspected that Jaina was only affectionate with her out of gratitude, or because she was mistaking gratitude for attraction.
"No…I want to be with you. Now feels like a perfectly good time."
"On the floor? The carpet's rather thin. We can go back to my bedchamber."
"We'll use our clothes. Your cloak should make a fine blanket." Jaina dipped her head to kiss Sylvanas' shoulder, reaching one hand up to cradle one of her lover's breasts. "I want to stay here."
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you are hell-bent on making love to me in the stacks of a library."
"It's been a fantasy of mine for a while," Jaina admitted, nipping at Sylvanas' shoulder.
"If you wish, then…" Sylvanas began to carefully strip Jaina's shirt from her body.
"Thank you, my love," Jaina sighed.
"Happy Love Is in the Air, my sweet," Sylvanas whispered as they sank to the floor together.
A/N: Yeah, silly fluff. Because I can. I genuinely want to write a serious fic about the founding of Undercity Library because I fucking love libraries.