Authors Note: I don't own anything, blah, blah blah. Please be kind. I am ashamed. ;_;. /wibble.

PROLOGUE

Jaina Proudmoore quietly barricaded the door to her private quarters in the elegant castle of Stormwind with magic. She was grateful that King Varian Wrynn had given her such a thing. It was a nice change from her drab room on Theramore Isle. Not that she disliked Theramore, because she didn't. Not at all. It was just that sometimes she wanted something classy and big to sleep in... and, well, a little less smelly too. To put it frankly, Theramore often had a strong, fishy smell to it.

She sunk down into a large purple chair perched beside her small coffee table and covered her face with her hands. It had taken all of her willpower to remain calm throughout the day. Now that she had some time to herself, it was time to sit and think -- think about what must be done.

"How could I have let this happen?" She whispered into her hands. It took several long, deep breaths for the Human Mage to control herself long enough to make a rational decision, which everyone knows is hard for a woman to do in the first place. She rose from her seat, smoothing down her silky skirts and double-checked the magical barricade to her door. When Jaina was satisfied with her security arrangements, she crept gingerly to her window. Shutting her eyes tightly, she focused her willpower to create a portal.

"Orgrimmar," Jaina said in a quivering voice.

After a moment of focused power, she opened her eyes and stared intently at the shimmering portal that would take her to place where her future would be decided. Jaina hesitated a moment before stepping inside the portal that let her directly into the Warchief's throne room in the Valley of Wisdom of Orgrimmar.

"Human Scum!"

"Protect our Warchief! None shall get past us!"

"No one hurts our fearless leader! Get out, witch!"

"Hey, can I get a port to Dal? Will tip."

Jaina ignored the calls of the horde as she stepped out of the portal and took a hasty step forward, alarming the guards surrounding the Warchief. They rushed forward, blocking her way to their leader. She froze as the guards pushed toward her, their green faces and beady eyes leering at her. A few of them reached for their swords, threateningly them menacingly toward her.

For a second, Jaina had the urge to lift her staff high into the air and turn them all into frogs, but logic took over and she tossed her staff to the floor beside her. She fell to her knees and hung her head, earning her gasps from all of the horde around her. Desperate, that's what she was and she would not deny it.

"Please!" Jaina's strong voice rang out around the room. "I must speak to your Warchief. It is urgent!"

"Scum mage! We do not trust you dirty humans! We only hire the dancing kind here!" a grunt grunted at her angrily and wagged his pointer finger at her.

Jaina opened her mouth to protest, but the Warchief himself rose from his throne and descended the steps. He cleared his throat, gaining the attention of his peons, "She has my permission to speak without interruption."

The guards were obviously displeased with their Warchief's decision, but backed away from her reluctantly. Many of them continued to cast angry glares at her, while the rest eyed her as if she were a piece of meat. Jaina suddenly felt under-dressed in her silky skirts and slightly provocative shirt. She wanted to cover up but she had nothing to do that with.

She stayed kneeling with her head hung, afraid to look into Thrall's dark eyes, "Privately... May we speak privately? Please, Thrall."

Thrall turned to his guards before any of them had a chance to backtalk. A slight grin of delight crossed his face. He raised his hands and pointed them toward the exit, "Out! Get out!"

Guards hesitantly left, casting awkward glanced at both Jaina and their leader. A few made snide comments about booty call's but they all left without too much drama. A few of them made plans to go to Silvermoon to see Innkeeper Velandra, who was apparently smoking hot and did not object to an Orc or two in her bed.

"Sir..." Vol'jin, the troll leader and one of Thrall's many BFF's, stepped forward. His blue-ish face was worried and he obviously did not trust this Proudmoore wench. He shook his head at the Warchief, alerting him that he did not approve of this private meeting.

"You too, Vol'jin. You will leave. Do not worry. I trust Jaina Proudmoore," Thrall reassured him, yet motioned toward the exit.

Vol'jin let out a small cackle and let out a loud whistle upon realizing what the meeting must be for, to which Thrall punched Vol'jin in the solar plexus and pushed him toward the exit.

"'Eeeey mon," Vol'jin objected. "I'm old, why do you push me? I'm like twenty years your senior, you filthy green frog mon. I hope Jaina gives you scabies."

"That's herpes, my dear Vol'jin," Thrall corrected. "Now get the the hell out before I chase out with my fire elemental like I did at Sylvanas's bad ass party last month."

Vol'jin sighed, nodded, and hobbled toward the exist all the while muttering about never having a good part in any story. Both Jaina and Thrall watched as the Darkspear leader left them alone.

"You may rise, Jaina," Thrall said softly once they were alone.

She rose to her feet, still avoiding his piercing gaze. Jaina let out a desperate sigh, "Thrall... I--"

"Is there a war coming?" Thrall grunted as he began pacing back and forth before her. "I should have known! Yet, that doesn't explain why you want privacy with me? Are you looking for a repeat of... before?"

"No!" She shook her head fiercely. "No. No... it's..."

"What is it?" Thrall asked impatiently.

"Oh Thrall," Jaina murmured, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'm..... pregnant."

"What!?" The Warchief roared. He shook his head and quieted his voice, so not to alarm the others outside, who were obviously going to be listening for anything going on.

Jaina nodded and looked down, "I've no idea what to do, Thrall."

"This cannot be possible! This is no good!" Thrall clenched his fists tightly. "What can we do? How are you going to survive in Stormwind, with the questions? King Wrynn will have your head, Jaina! You will be disowned, forgotten! And what of the child? He will be the laughingstock of mankind!"

"I know," she sobbed. "I know. I... I have a plan, I think."

"And what is that? Cover yourself in green paint and pretend to be an Orc? Throw yourself off a balcony like you tried to do at Mal'Ganis's birthday party last year because Illidan wouldn't say that you were pretty?"

"That was just that one time!" Jaina said defensively. "I had too much Volatile Rum! It was a Nathrezim party, you know they are always a little crazy with their high-proof alcohol!"

"Well then, what do you plan on doing then? There's no way an illegitimate love child of Orc and Human will ever be welcome in this world. Never, Jaina! I know you don't believe in the big A, so I really don't know what to suggest. Your King will have you and the unborn child killed if he finds out, which is worse than the big A if you ask me!" Thrall said angrily.

"I will go away for a while," Jaina said calmly, wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve. "Business trip. Or at least that's what I will tell everyone whom asks. I will find a private place and stay until the baby is born. From there..."

"You cannot bring it here," Thrall interrupted, waving his hands in front of him as if to say 'HELL NO, GIRLFRIEND'. "My people will not have it. It will be killed. It will be frowned upon! I will be the laughing stock of Orgrimmar! Of the entire HORDE! Can you imagine Sylvanas' face if she found out?"

"I'll figure out something then!" Jaina snapped angrily. She glared at the Warchief she thought she loved. This was not her Thrall. He was being a real jerk.

"Please do," Thrall grunted, though his voice was much softer.

"I will," Jaina said curtly. "Now excuse me, I have arrangements to tend to. I hope you enjoy yourself. Don't worry yourself sick over me. I'll be fine. Your child will know nothing of you, I promise."

Thrall sighed, "Jaina..."

Jaina gave a haughty laugh as she retrieved the staff she had thrown down earlier, "Don't 'Jaina' me, Mister! You and your pompous Orcs can die in a fire for all I care!"

"Jaina... Please."

"What, Thrall? What?"

"I'm sorry," he said plainly. He stepped forward and grasped the human mage's hand. "We'll make it through this. Be safe."

She nodded, though her eyes were tear-filled again. She hastily made a portal back to her chambers in the Stormwind castle and left, not bothering to look back at the father of her unborn child.

Once she was gone, Thrall sunk back into his throne and groaned loudly, "What have I gotten myself into?"