Love Left Apart :
I do not own any of this all persons and references are Blizzard Entertainment.
Written by Eyes Like Dawn.
It seemed like seconds, that the tenuous world between Horde and Alliance shattered. The Under City was gone from Horde control, and thrust into the hands of the unknown enemy led by the former second in command, Varimatheras, and the chief plague scientist. Hundreds of both factions' peoples were dead, not to mention Saurfang the younger, and Bolvar Fordring.
Truly it had been a hellish day, for the Warcheif, and there was more to come. The chambers of Grommash hold were empty; Kor'kron had departed with Vol'jin, as had Lady Sylvanas. The silent halls of the hold echoed the emptiness and despair Thrall felt. For a few minutes he would be alone, to gather his thoughts and listen to whatever wisdom the spirits offered.
Thrall faced the portal to the Under City grimly; he could make out bits of the old crumbling kingdom here and there through its swirling magic's. Silent and foreboding as the people who dwelt there. The familiar hum of another portal, echoed behind him. In all this confusion, it did not surprise the Warcheif, that some over achieving assassin would attempt to take his life. His Doom-hammer out in an instant, with a roar on his lips, he spun around, only to be halted abruptly at the sight of Jaina. She stood there, a draft from the portal whipping the robe around her ankles. She looked into Thrall's deep azure eyes, with hers, as bright as a cloudless sky. Wrapping her arms around his neck, standing on tip toe. She kissed him so passionately, that Thrall dropped his hammer. His heart filled his ears, his legs felt weak, either he, Jaina, or both, were shaking, but there was no way to tell. The kiss seemed to last forever, and seconds all at once. After parting her bright red lips from his she spoke, "I love you, Go'el, son of Durotan."
The words came out in fluent orcish, so strong, and with out falter, as if this was the one thing she could have been absolutely certain of in all her life. Thrall was momentarily taken aback.
"And I love you, Jaina." He replied, his voice hoarse.
His burly arms gently wrapping around the sorceress. With her forehead on his chest, he could have been hugging her bit tightly but if she was uncomfortable, she never said. Jaina's voice was cracked with emotion. As if she was doing all in her power not to burst into tears. "Thrall, we will run into one another in the Under City."
He nodded, with a grimace, Thrall knew Varian would try to pull something in the old Alliance stronghold. There would be no way around that nagging feeling of what was to come.
"When we do…" Jaina halted closing her eyes, clutching his dark leather jerkin for strength, as she composed herself with deep steadying breaths; Thrall could nearly hear the sob in her throat.
"Do not…hesitate, to-." She had put extreme emphasis on the words 'do not', and yet couldn't go on, but there was no need for her to speak.
Thrall shook his head slowly, a lump in his own throat threatening to claw its way up.
"Jaina, I-."
"Promise me, damn you!" She interrupted. the flood gate of tears finally breaking free. Hand curled into a fist, she struck at his shoulder, a hit of loving desperation.
Jaina, sobbed silently into Thralls massive chest, her shoulders heaving. Thralls voice was barely a whisper. "We must, do this… but we can't. I could kill you, no more than I could rip my own heart out."
Tensions between Horde an Alliance were at an all time high. No one would blame them if the leaders went head to head, angry and grieving for their peoples. Things happened, that type of situation could be explained, and reasoned to keep treaties and pacts in place.
But, if they found themselves facing off and he refused to battle Jaina, it would be disastrous. She and Varian were already on dangerous terms, it was all the king would need to brand her a traitor and all Sylvanas needed to confirm her suspicions. Jaina's life would be forfeit in an instant, and any pacts with the Alliance that had been forged nullified in a blazing rage, spelling out far more war and death. With a shake of the head, Thrall banished those thoughts from his mind, for a few moments she was here, alive, warm and soft in his arms. And yet his rock, the one constant in his life that he could turn to when it felt like the world was crumbling around his head.
After long minuets, Jaina's shoulders slumped in defeat, the silent sobs held in check once more.
"I don't think I could handle my life without you. My heart, my soul." Thrall whispered. As he cupped his hands on her face, running a thumb over her ivory cheeks, and wiping away the heart wrenching tears that melted his soul. He had not cried since the fall of Hellscream, but this was the closets he had come in many, many years.
"O, Light!" She murmured, hopelessness laced in her voice. She could not imagine having no more wonderful nights with him. Their talks, voices in the wind. His touch becoming only a faint remembrance on her shoulder. She placed a hand over his own, squeezing tight.
"I was hoping, if you promised me this, I would be strong enough to go through with it myself," She admitted disparagingly hoping she didn't appear to pathetic after that unseemly breakdown.
"You are the strongest person I know, Jaina. Yours is unrivaled." Thrall observed with a sad smile.
"It is only because you lend me so much of your strength, beloved." The arch-mage replied brushing Thrall's calloused knuckles with a kiss.
Holding one another, for just a fleeting moment, all they could manage was silence, it would have been torture for much else. Thrall drank in her scent of saltwater and arcane magic mixed in a tantalizing perfume. Breathing it in deeper determined to remember it until the end of time. He searched her ocean blue eyes, feeling that he could look into them forever and never penetrate their mysteries. How he loved this woman.
Jaina held him close, as if he were smoke, ready to disappear at any moment. Her hands roving over his own dictating his touch and feel to memory. Remembering how gentle and powerful he was in a perfect balance of peace maker and warrior. How she loved this orc.
The portal to the Under City dimmed slightly, he had to leave soon, and Vol'jin would already be suspicious of his lateness.
"The battle horns have sounded, I must answer there call," His voice steeped with painful regret. Jaina nodded, stepping back towards her portal, she pulled her cloak hood over her head, turning around, the runes on the cloak shimmering in the torch light. She looked so much like she had when they had first met in those caverns under the mountains years ago, it made Thralls heart ache, worse then any pain he had ever known.
"Lok'Tar," Was all she uttered, the words spoken determined, though unable to bring her self to finish the proud orcish battle cry. With one last painful look back. She walked into the portal, leaving Thrall so, so alone. "Lok'Tar Ogar," he whispered into the abandoned hold, "Victory, or death." Despite himself, Thrall shuddered, picking up the Doom-hammer, and walking through the portal.