Thank you Lightrunner for reviewing last chapter! I really do appreciate everyone who reads and reviews this! I enjoy hearing what you have to say!


"We're going to be fine."

Jeanne hummed and closed her eyes at the gentle tugs on her hair. Ammon had demanded that they have some time to themselves and had taken over her morning preparations. He was currently brushing out her long hair, ensuring that he had gotten every knot out of her silky tresses. Worry, uncertainty, and nervousness thrummed along their Connection and Ammon did his best to send reassurance to his twin sister.

"Promise me that you won't kill anyone," Ammon stated flatly, tugging a strand sharply to get her attention. She flinched and threw a glare over her shoulder. "Jeanne, I mean it. I won't be there to keep you calm if things go badly."

The druid huffed and crossed her arms. "You mean when... I suppose I can try and contain myself."

The rogue sighed and draped some of her hair strategically over her shoulders to flow over her chest. "I suppose I could find you in the garden after?"

"Probably. I can't promise you what mood I'll be in though."

"I know."

Jeanne patted Ammon's leg and stood, stretching her cramped muscles and rolling her shoulders. A warm presence caught their attention and they looked up at their brother as he approached them with steady steps. He tossed a small smile at them and paused, looking Jeanne up and down with evaluating eyes.

"You look nice Joan," he commented, leaning over and pressing a brotherly kiss to her forehead, "As usual. Are you ready to leave?"

She bit her lip and sighed through her nose. "As ready as I'll ever be. How many are we taking again?"

He blinked and glanced over his shoulder at the mass of restless worgen. "As many as Stormwind brought. Less than a hundred but more than fifty."

"Right." The druid shifted from one leg to another and Cerdic squeezed her shoulder. She sent him a side-eyed look from under her lashes. "Keep close to me?"

"Of course," he replied immediately, slipping his broad hand to her back and gently steering her towards Genn and Eadrik. Genn greeted her with a small smile while Eadrik steadfastly ignored her. That was fine; she was perfectly content in ignoring his presence anyway.

"I trust you two will behave?" Genn asked, glancing between the two with narrowed eyes. Eadrik shot a glare in Jeanne's direction but jerked his head in agreement.

"Only if he does," Jeanne ground out, crossing her arms.

Genn merely gave her a weary look and shook his head. She could feel Cerdic's mortified stare burning into the side of her head and a tiny grain of satisfaction seated itself in her chest.

The elderly king cast a last look around the congregated Gilnean then strode forward and tugged the Gilnean banner out of the soft ground. The worgen all followed their leader as he lead them out of the Howling Oak and towards the gathering outside of the Warrior's Terrace. Both Delroy siblings took positions flanking Genn, one on each side.

As they moved closer to the gathering they could hear each of the race's national anthems playing and the sounds of their displays of ability. Genn stopped them at the edge of the forest, farther east than the gathering and its entrance. Right now Stormwind was making its entrance and Jeanne could see—in between the very capable fighters Stormwind brought—a rather stiff looking Anduin dressed in the finery of his station.

The druid glanced down at herself and fingered the loose sage green tunic she bore, a small sigh slipping out of her lips. She understood why they wore this—and she never did care for the ornate finery Cerdic favoured—but she did wish that she was dressed just a little better, especially in this situation.

A rustle of cloth and Tyrande's melodious voice yanked the druid out of her thoughts and she refocused herself on the high priestess.

"Sisters and brothers of the Alliance, comrades and friends, I call for a vote to open this gathering!"

A chorus of ayes met her ears and she recoiled without a thought. Her heart sped up and she suddenly yearned for Ammon's grounding presence at her side.

"My friends," the elf continued, "It is with gratitude that the archdruid and I greet all of you! That you have chosen to join together at this summit is a true sign of hope in a troubled time."

There were murmurs of agreement and glances at one another from the crowd. Jeanne felt some of her people shift restlessly behind her.

"We have many grave matters to discuss. Many of you have suffered dearly since the madness of Deathwing tore Azeroth asunder, and are rightfully concerned that the Alliance might demand more from your people before the lands can heal themselves. I cannot promise that this will not happen."

Wary glances were exchanged and Jeanne felt herself agreeing to that; how were they supposed to retake Gilneas if her people were stretched to their limits doing work elsewhere? The subtle rustling of two of the trees over them immediately caught her attention and she felt as if that had been a signal of some sort. The druid glanced at their two hosts and startled slightly when she found her master's golden eyes peering in their direction. Jeanne blinked as the pieces fell together and she snorted softly in laughter; of course he would ask the trees that hid them to let him know when they arrived. She'd have to stow that trick away for later.

"But before we can begin those discussions in earnest, we must ensure that we do so with every possible valued member present!" Tyrande continued and Jeanne made an effort to push away her nerves; It was time. "And today we have those who would seek to become one of us, who would seek to share in our efforts to strengthen the Alliance..."

The druid squared her shoulders as a horn sounded from somewhere and her nation's anthem started to play immediately after. Pride swelled up in her chest at the notes and she found herself humming the lyrics under her breath. She smelt her people's confidence and that bolstered her own. Lifting her chin in a defiant angle, she followed her leader as he strode forward into the gathering, bearing the banner of their beloved nation. Jeanne felt the stares upon her and the people striding behind her but paid them no mind.

Genn paused before her master and his mate, giving them a nod of acknowledgment and gratitude, before taking the banner and thrusting the pole into the soft ground before them. He lifted his head and squared his shoulders, emanating an aura of strength worthy of a warrior much younger.

"Gilneas stands before you!" the king called out, deep voice ringing throughout the silent courtyard. "Gilneas stands before you to atone for its sins by offering its might to any and all of the Alliance who need it! No truer brother will there be to any in their time of distress!"

Head still high, Genn stepped back and between both siblings and they as a people fanned out to face every direction of the gathering. Jeanne scanned her section, noting that many of them gazed at her with looks of curiosity and interest. A flash of blue and gold caught her eye and she found herself meeting the intensely curious stare of Stormwind's prince. She lifted a crimson brow at him and watched in mild amusement as his cheeks pinked at being caught.

"And lest anyone think us of weak use in battle, of being unable to defend our brothers beside us, we now hope to dispel that misconception..."

Jeanne both felt and smelt the signal to Change and gave into that urge that's been nagging at the back of her mind. By now she was more than used to the sound of her bones shifting and muscles stretching to accommodate her new form. Her tunic became tight over her body, though not to the point of ripping like many of the others', and she was quite thankful for it. All throughout this, her eyes never left Anduin's, and watched with no small amount of amusement as his own widened in shock and disbelief. His stare left hers to sweep the worgen around her and landed back on her. To her own surprise, the boy didn't seem horrified or disgusted at this new knowledge, but rather intrigued.

"We are Gilneas," Genn rumbled from beside her and she felt pride rise at his words, "We are the worgen..."

With that the Pack Leader threw his head back and howled, a sound that was both a signal and a display of power. As one, Jeanne and the others threw back and joined their voices with his, creating a disjointed harmony of sound when the rest of the pack joined in from deep within the forest. Her heart flew with joy at the sound when, just briefly, they were all united and singing their own songs that connected as a whole. Though it only lasted for a few seconds she felt freer and lighter than she had been in a long time.

"We humbly submit ourselves before our brethren for full membership in the Alliance..." Genn stated into the ringing silence and the young druid observed the crowd. None of them spoke—expressions of shock still etched many of their faces. Her attention snapped to Malfurion, who stood and pointed—incidentally—in her general direction. Jeanne's ears twitched back, nervous to what her master had to say.

"A few of you know the old tales of the worgen and their ferocity!" Malfurion spoke, his words ringing through the silence. "You know the stories of their unthinking evil! To both you and and those unfamiliar with the stories, what stands before you has little link to either legends or the past! These fighters of Gilneas have tamed the curse! That which was once a deadly threat is now forevermore a force for good, a force for the Alliance!"

The druid waited, body tense, as the representatives digested what they had just heard and seen and came to their ultimate judgment. She could feel the pack's nervousness around her and it was only the steadying reassurance flowing into her soul that kept her rooted there. Murmurs rose from the crowd, becoming more and more animated and a dwarf hopped to his feet, capturing everyone's attention.

"Wildhammer welcomes the strength o' the worgen...and o' Gilneas!" The dwarf called, his voice rising above the din.

A human dressed in black and violet robes immediately followed. "Theramore seconds that welcome!"

Hope rose in Jeanne's breast when many burst into applause, lifting her lupine lips and perking her ears. She saw salutes of many kinds and it took her a moment to realize that they were saluting them. The scent changed and the worgen had to fight back tears, for her pack was just as affected as she and, bloody hell, it felt wonderful to be welcomed.

"You have witnessed the might of Gilneas and heard its request to enter back into the Alliance!" Tyrande called and brought Jeanne back to the here and now, "I say that, after seeing this display and if there are no objections, we shall begin a vote for approval immediately!"

The elf's glowing silver eyes swept the assembly, her gaze never lingering on any section more than the others. The atmosphere seemed agreeable enough and the worgen emitted their own sense of happiness.

"I call for a vote by acclamation!" Malfurion called, his voice loud and clear, "A single voice to acknowledge the welcome of the worgen into the Alliance! All those in favour—"

Jeanne's ears flattened habitually as a resounding chorus of ayes rang out. The sheer enthusiasm matched that of their earlier howls and the worgen found herself smiling in joy at the acceptance they showered upon them. The twisting warmth of Ammon's satisfaction oozed through their connection, though his own electric joy also filtered through. Jeanne elected to ignore the smug tone her twin had and instead exchanged a happy grin with Cerdic.

A ripple of movement and a sudden hush tore her attention back and immediately to a stone-faced Varian Wrynn. Uncertainty tempered her joy and she regarded him cautiously. He alone can turn this on its head and they all knew it. The druid hoped to everything holy that he saw past his grudge with Genn and had decided to aid her people.

"Members of the Alliance, my good night elf hosts, I'd like to speak."

Nothing in his voice revealed his intentions and Tyrande waved for everyone's attention. "Stormwind asked to speak. Please go on, King Varian."

The younger king paused, as if collecting his thoughts. Finally he spoke, voice still that unreadable tone, "Everyone knows that there's no love lost between Stormwind and Gilneas. Everyone knows why."

Jeanne's ears folded at the utter silence that fell upon them all. Ammon sent a questioning and confused feeling through their connection but she ignored it to study the other king's scarred face. A flash of movement behind the elven hosts caught her eye for a second, dismissing it after it proved only to be a Sentinel. Tyrande heeded the she-elf's appearance and left Malfurion in charge of the proceedings. Briefly, the worgen wondered what was so urgent to call the high priestess off when Varian's voice once again rose on the still air.

"The benefit that an ally such as Gilneas offers us is obvious. While our skills in combat more than match those of the orcs and their allies, there's always been a hunger that the Horde has thrived upon that we—so civilized—no longer seem to have. The worgen offer us that righteous hunger to overcome all obstacles in battle, to keep the Alliance from splintering or merely sitting back as the orcs take one land after another..."

Despite herself and her doubts, Jeanne could feel her hope rise at his words. She could feel similar surprise from her pack mates.

"I considered damned long and hard on this, I promise you," Varian continued, "Such an ally can help us easily hold the Horde's ambitions at bay, maybe even push them back!" The younger king gestured at Genn and the pack, "An ally of such honour, of such courage, I'd be more than pleased to fight beside!"

Cheers broke out and some of her pack mates howled in joy. Jeanne felt faint in relief, the scent of the others' relief and joy almost overpowering everything.

Varian turned to Malfurion. "Archdruid! You called before for a vote by acclamation, a vote I interrupted! My apologies for letting that happen! I meant to ask to speak sooner..."

Jeanne barely heard his apologies, so overwhelmed with relief she was. Her people finally had a place in the world! A place in the Alliance where they can prove themselves and make their own way! No longer were they to be refugees, outcasts and exiles! She should have trusted Malfurion's judgment!

"I would be happy to call for it again, King Varian—"

"That won't be necessary." Her happy gaze snapped back to him and stuttered at the look in his eye. Like watching the sun disappear behind storm clouds, the younger king's expression darkened and a resentful glimmer sparked in his eyes.

Varian spat in Genn's direction.

"Calling for it again would be a waste of time," he snarled and shock flooded her entire being, "for I'd never give consent to allow these mongrels into the Alliance!"

Betrayal and a blinding fury hit Jeanne like a stag and burst through the tight restraint she had on her magic. The trees shook around them as shouts of offense rang through the air. The druid could feel the plant life heed her call and, for a split second, she entertained the idea of allowing her magic to do as it pleased. A heavy mass hit her from her left and she habitually turned to snap at them. Her brother bore his teeth in frustration and cuffed her with a heavy hand.

"Stop!" he growled into her ear, giving her a rough shake. That and the weight of Malfurion's stare on her as he asserted his own magic on the foliage was enough for Jeanne to regain a shred of her control. Cerdic relaxed slightly at the wane of magic in the air and Jeanne forced herself to focus enough to hear the words being shouted.

"—I've already said to many, I find nothing worthy, nothing honourable in this pack of hounds... and so I will never vote aye to their admission back into the fold!"

With that, Varian spun on his heel and marched out of the summit with his guards on his heels. Chaos erupted around them and the young druid fought to keep the little control over her boiling fury.

"Come," Cerdic growled into her ear, taking her elbow and yanking her around to the entrance. "There's nothing for us here."

She agreed wholeheartedly and so she followed her pack back into the trees, where they blended into the shadows. The foliage shook with her passing but this time she could not—would not—take comfort in their presence. She needed to do something with her pent up fury and needed to do it now.

Her ears flickered at the thunder that rolled through the forest—surely Malfurion's way to grab everyone's attention again—and she abruptly changed direction. She could feel Cerdic's frustrated glare on her but she ignored it in favour of bolting towards the nearest path towards the lake. The druid didn't even bother slipping into her sea lion form, instead diving in as she was and paddling towards her island where she could get a bit of solitude to unleash her fury upon.

The worgen dragged herself up the shore, shook herself mostly dry, and stood up. For a moment she just stood there, observing the goings of nature, before her rage hit her once again. With a snarl, she grabbed ahold of her magic and launched a tangle of roots and vines into the water. Frogs scrambled away, screeching in fear and the water sparkled where it rippled.

A tiny grain of satisfaction lodged in her chest as she heard the sounds of alarmed wildlife and she sent another round of roots shooting into the water. The trees around her bent, as if frightening animals, in response to her anger and the flowers grew twice, three times their size and waved threateningly; they sought the source of her fury to eliminate it. Jeanne's muscles shook in tiny tremors as she launched spell after spell into the water. It wasn't long until her magic ran dry and, with it, the forest around her relaxed.

The druid snarled wearily, still feeling the burn of anger in her breast, and she spun on her heel to stalk farther into the foliage of her island. Her sprouts cried out for her but she ignored them, instead stalking to Six-spread Root and stopping before it.

"Mind letting me sit in your branches?" she asked it, struggling to keep a polite tone to it—they tend to respond best to kindness. It shuffled its branches but did nothing, giving her its answer.

Jeanne gritted her teeth, her patience thinning by the second. "Alright. Could you at least grant me a bit of privacy?"

With a rustle that sounded suspiciously like a sigh it moved its branches lower, surrounding her with its leaves and granting her the privacy she asked for. She patted its trunk in thanks and curled up at the base of its trunk. Her hands still shook with her anger and she fisted them, relishing in the slight pain her claws brought to the pads of her hands.

"Was a bloody fool to trust the word of that man," she snarled under her breath, "Bloody mongrels indeed! The wanker has less honour than—"

She cut herself off with an infuriated snarl, snapping her teeth at the air in agitation. Six-spread Root shook above her, an effort to either calm her down or to tell her to knock it off. She sent a peeved glare up at the tree but said nothing, instead folding her arms and leaning against the trunk with a huff. Like the previous day, her solitude was cut short as she felt the warm presence of a certain draenei approach.

"Can I not get a bloody moment of peace?!" she snarled to herself, leaping to her feet and stalking out, intent on finding another place where she can sit and stew on her anger.

"I thought I would find you here, young druid," Velen's voice gave her pause and she turned to shoot him a heated glare.

"My garden is planted here, Prophet Velen," she ground out, struggling to rein in her temper enough to play at politeness. "I find that plants offer better company than people."

The draenei's alabaster head tilted slightly, as if intrigued by her words. There was an expectant pause in the air and, combined with the aura of trustworthiness he emitted, had words tumbling out of her mouth.

"How dare he!" she spat, balling her fists up in newfound anger, "He's no better than us! How dare he tell us that we have no place when he himself abandoned his own kingdom at one point! Most of us had no say in the matter! I for one was an infant when all of this was decided! He just condemned an entire people, my people, to starvation and death! And I can do nothing about it!"

Frustration choked her throat closed and her entire body shook. Her chest heaved as if she'd run a marathon.

"Peace," Velen soothed, slowly approaching her. She bridled at the close proximity but his aura of calm and wisdom eventually had her dropping her guard. He gently set a long-fingered hand gently on her brow and a soothing warmth emanated from it. Jeanne's body relaxed despite the frustration and betrayal churning in her gut.

"You have so much anger for one so young," he murmured, drawing back to give her a proper look over. "You are right to feel angry and betrayed; these events have not turned out well for your people. But you also need to find your peace with them, for if you do not it will destroy you from the inside out."

His words confused her and her ears folded. Wisdom swirled in his softly glowing eyes and he gave her a knowing look.

"I am called away elsewhere. I do not think that this will be the last time we meet, Jeanne Delroy. I think that there is much for you and your siblings."

The worgen opened her mouth to inquire further when another, similar presence quickly approached. Both she and Velen turned to see Anduin stride in, a contemplative look on his young face and a hand rubbing his arm. Her previous anger returned, though not aimed at him personally but what he represented, and she watched him with narrowed emerald eyes. His cornflower blue eyes flicked upward and his expression stuttered in surprise at the sight of the worgen. He quickly took her in, gaze finally meeting her eyes and narrowed in scrutiny.

"Lady...Delroy?" he identified slowly and her lips thinned in response.

Without so much as a nod of acknowledgment, Jeanne slipped past him and started towards the other end of the city. There was a beat of silence—save the rustling of the trees above them—before Anduin's voice cut through the silence.

"Not everyone shares my father's opinion, you know." His words, delivered in a quiet but firm tone, gave her pause. Her ears swiveled back towards him, the only thing indicating that she was listening. "My father tends to live in the past and dwell on past hurts. I have heard of Genn Greymane's previous arrogant nature and even I can see he has changed. You and your people deserve a chance to prove yourselves worthy members of the Alliance."

Silence stretched over them, taut like a drumhead. Jeanne heard Anduin gather up breath and, for reasons unknown to her, she waited for him to speak his peace.

"For what it's worth... I think it would be nice to get to know you and your people. Good luck, Lady Jeanne, and I wish you peace."

Jeanne flicked her ears back in surprise and turned around to give him a measuring look. He met her gaze head on and, after a few moments, she was the one that glanced away first.

"May the winds be at your back, Anduin Wrynn," she murmured, hearing a sharp intake of air at her gravelly voice before slipping into the shadows of the forest. The worgen dropped down to all fours and loped away, feeling as if something had clicked into place. But for the life of her she could not figure out what.