Summary: Jaina finally gets her one solid hit against Sylvanas..
Notes: Sorry its been a while! I just wanna say thank you for all the comments and love you have given this story! 3 This is one of my more favourite chapters :3 Jaina finally gets one up on Sylvanas...not going to say where. Enjoy guys, I look forward to the comments.
Chapter TextSylvanas lounged in her usual arrogant fashion on the lion's throne, starting to drift off into rest at the quick and rhythmic thudding of Anduin's pacing lulling. She pulled her hood forward, casting her face into shadow. She didn't want anyone reading what was in her eyes, racing through her mind right now. The clank of his chainmail armour was the only thing keeping her awake.
She sighed heavily, agitated, she swung her legs round and leaned forward, "Little Lion, must you pace so?" She drawled, "The undead can still get headaches."
He whirled, "Well at least one of us is showing concern for Jaina!"
She raised an eyebrow, "You think I don't have any concern for the woman I'm about to marry?" she eyed him up and down as he stopped, "Without Proudmoore there is now future , there is no one Alliance and there will be no Horde either. Without Proudmoore, none of us can concur."
Sylvanas threw her head back in amusement, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He knew she was right; he just didn't want to admit to the Banshee Queen that she was right and while in his throne room. He wanted to slice her through with shalamayne as it was for lounging so effortlessly on his throne. She shifted in her seat comfortably, she could get used to the plush throne of the Alliance.
"They have been hours…" He sighed, thumbing his chin as he resumed pacing.
Sylvanas leaned into the throne more, her elbow on the arm rest and her head balancing on her fist. She crossed her left leg over the other and pinched the bridge between her nose with her free hand, "Lion Cub. Proudmoore had her mana reserves drained, her life forces almost dwindled down to the barest existence. Think of it like thread, a thin piece of the finest silk. So fragile it could snap at any time. "
He paused, his back to her, he glanced over his shoulder at her. Sylvanas knew what was coming next, his face conveyed far more than he would care to say, "What happened on Thro's Sylvanas? Alleria refuses to even speak of it. Vereesa says Alleria hasn't slept since."
Sylvanas let out a small huff of laughter at the mention of her sisters, typical Vereesa She should care more for Alleria than her. And Vereesa was starting to develop a nice little relationship with Anduin she had noticed.
Interesting….
It also reminded herself that she still had to deal with Vereesa. She pushed herself up from the throne slowly and stood with the grace and elegance of a feline. She crossed her arms, her face still shadowed by her hood. She shook her head as he turned to face him directly.
"Sylvanas I know that the Island haunts you with your darkest regrets. I can only hazard a guess at what you saw." He sighed, trying to make common ground. Sylvanas watched the stained-glass windows reflect and dance off his face in the sun. A Kaleidoscope of colours radiating from the lions on his pauldrons.
"You have no idea, Little Lion." She hissed through gritted teeth; her jaw tightened.
To her relief, a door opened. Grateful for the interruption. But she felt her eyes roll when Tyrande walked out from behind it. Sylvanas observed that Tyrande looked tired, heavily pregnant and trying to heal a very weak Mage had taken its toll. With the bags under her eyes, her hair scraped back into a high ponytail now hung loose and threads of hair fell in wisps around her face. Her drawn face looked grave and pale for her night elf skin.
"Well?" Sylvanas drawled, a demanding edge to her tone. Anduin glared at her, she caught it and gave him an amused glint of fangs back.
Tyrande didn't falter under Sylvanas's blank expression, "She will live. However, they have drained her of every drop of mana. It will take a good weak to build r reserves back up."
Sylvanas rolled her eyes in frustration, Tyrande was beating around the bush on purpose. Stating the obvious really did not suit the priestess. If it was just Anduin then she'd have gotten straight to the point, but since Sylvanas's own prescience cast a shadow over Tyrande's reserve she didn't have the patience for her drabbling, "And?"
Tyrande gaped at Sylvanas's arrogance, but she knew Sylvanas was smart enough to catch on to her antics. She couldn't help teasing the Banshee after everything she had been through. "And what? The marks on her arm will fade to scars, but they will be permanent. The scars on her mental state however lays with time. She has a fever and will need Thalyssra there with her for the night while I rest. "She explained, she turned to Anduin and gave him a deadpan look. "Anduin, a private word when you have a moment." Sylvanas couldn't read Tyrande's expression, she despised the sight of her as it was. She would never forgive Tyrande for turning her forsaken away.
Sylvanas eyed her curiously, changing her expression quickly she twisted it into a snide snarl. She stared knives into Tyrande's back as she walked out of the keep with Anduin in tow.
Sylvanas blended into the shadows of Jaina's room, it had been a long week but Anya, her most trusted dark ranger, had reported seeing Jaina Proudmoore up and about. She knew Tyrande would try to keep her away from Jaina at every possible chance. But Tyrande had been summoned to Darnassus, her lure in Ashenvale had worked. She smiled to herself as she leaned her hip against the desk unit, her eyes sliding from a sleeping Jaina to the items on her desk. Reports, taxes stacked up high, half scrawled through papers, half a bottle of whiskey in the draw she tenderly pulled out, lifting the whiskey up she came across the bottom of the draw, staring at it blankly. Not sure if she had expected to find anything.
Her eyes slid back to the top as she pushed the draw back in. Candlelight flickered casting a warm glow onto her undead frame. The treaty laid there with her Minn'da's ring on top of it. Sylvanas tentatively touched the edges under her fingertips, flicking the corners slightly her eyebrows lifted, "Jaina Proudmoore" was scrawled in elegant script. Her finger traced the outline slowly, almost lingering for too long. She realised after she reluctantly dragged her fingers away the ink smudged. It was fresh. Her face curled into half a snarl of satisfaction but half a smile of anger. Jaina had gone back to business as soon as she could, obviously ignoring the fact she needed to rest and recover her resources.
"I know you are there Windrunner." Jaina yawned, stretching languidly.
Sylvanas froze momentarily and then proceeded to glide in her arrogant Banshee fashion out from the shadows, revealing herself in the moon light that glittered into Jaina's room from the open balcony.
"When will you not lurk in the shadows?" She yawned again burying her face into the pillows.
Sylvanas huffed lightly." Whenever you stop consuming copious amounts of caffeine."
Jaina grinned unto the pillow feeling it's warmth against her cheek," so never then." She affirmed lightly, taking a quick peak at the Banshee Queen out of the corner of her eye.
"Your obsession with coffee is really unhealthy Proudmoore." Sylvanas teased, crossing the room effortlessly to fiddle with a ship ornament on her nightstand. Focusing her eyes on it.
Jaina pushed herself up gently onto her elbows and eyed her, those red eyes glowed softly," Like your obsession with me?" She teased lightly, knowing it would gain her attention. Sylvanas raised an eyebrow at her, throwing a soft glare in her direction of defiance, they stared at each other in the stillness of the night for a moment before Jaina dragged her eyes away and looked off into a corner of the room, the silence deafening. Jaina's quiet sigh broke the awkward tension "How much of my life did you see on that Island?"
"Enough" Sylvanas deadpanned. Her face expressions less. Jaina hadn't seen her this blank since the day she had received that letter from him.
"Proudmoore— "
"I didn't know until it was too late." Jaina murmured staring into her lap
Sylvanas blinked, she never appreciated being cut off so abruptly, but she relented pushing her anger dawn and set the ship ornament down gently.
Jaina breathed deeply, exhaling softly" I didn't know un till Tyrande told me after council one day. I had no sickness or any signs." Sylvanas followed jaina's gaze off into the distance of her balcony.
Jaina sat in council by Varian's side, representing Theramore. Jaina was so lost in the conversation that she didn't notice Tyrande eyeing her curiously at first. Her eyes glancing from her slender figure to her face several times. Tyrande could feel a strange arcane coming from the mage, something that was a blended mix of hers and something else. Something pure but evil at the same time. With the side glance she exchanged with Malfurion beside her he had felt it too. Tyrande looked back to Jaina, the mage was still very young and had witnessed some traumas and bore the mental scars. Yet her skin glowed, and not with her youth, her figure still retained and no sign whatsoever but the thudding of a small heartbeat in Tyrande's ears.
Varian adjourned the council and Tyrande stood quickly and made her way gracefully over to Jaina. "Lady Proudmoore." Tyrande greeted her with a courteous nod of the heads.
Jaina turned and stared up at Tyrande in amazement and wonder at how someone could hold such beauty who was 1000 years old. She felt herself buckle under her hard gaze. There was no malice behind the stiff eyes but Jaina could see the edges beginning to soften. She returned the gesture with her own nod." Lady Whisperand, a pleasure."
Tyrande have her a small and gentle smile and took her arm and linked it through her own "May we take a walk on this lovely summer day? I have much to discuss with you."
Jaina's eyes slid down to the linked arms, she had never much spoke to Tyrande and felt her quite intimidating with her ethereal grace and how she could gather such authority and hold the attention of the alliance like they were her puppets. She had also heard of Tyrande's temper and knew all too well her tantrums, it was for this reason she tried to keep Varian away from her. She was a woman who knew how to bend men to her will and that frightened Jaina to her core, she supressed tremble. Jaina swallowed cautiously, "Of course."
Jaina looked over her shoulder and gave Varian an apologetic glance, she knew this would raise questions later. They walked arm in arm out of the keep and into the golden sunlight of the gardens. When visiting Anduin Jaina would often sit and read to him in the gardens, she lived for seeing the flowers, peace bloom and blue roses especially in full bloom. Tyrande made small conversation which unnerved Jaina more and set her on edge, she knew Tyrande was not one to babble.
"Jaina May I ask you something? It's a very private matter." Tyrande starred softly speaking.
Jaina paused in her step, she turned her face to look up at the night elf, her lips parted slightly with every soft anxious breath," Ye…yes"
"Jaina I'm going to ask you outright."
Jaina nodded and thickly swallowed, her mind racing through every contemplation she could think of that had to do with Tyrande.
"Jaina do you know you're pregnant?" Tyrande asked, seriousness etching into her voice, pulling away from her to round by her and look at her directly, blocking out the sunlight to Jaina's face.
The question knocked Jaina for six and she stumbled back slightly, great full for the tree that was behind her. She knew by Tyrande's face that her own confusion was present. She hadn't slept with anyone other than….no it couldn't be his.
I took the potion after he …he…. had his way with me…Vereesa helped….
She turned to Tyrande who now held a look of sympathy and pity. Jaina shook her head in response.
"I thought as much." Tyrande replied, she moved gently to Jaina and her hand pressed lightly against Jaina's flat tummy." It has a heartbeat Jaina. You are further along than what I expected "
Jaina felt her head swim with the new information. She couldn't be with child; this was breathing life into a new nightmare. She reached out and clutched the wall, feeling her lungs tighten and her chest convulse. She gulped back the lump in her throat.
"Jaina did you seriously not know?" Jaina shook her head and tried to speak but couldn't utter the words out. "You had no sickness?"
Another shake of the head.
Tyrande raised an eyebrow, how could someone be so stupid? So naïve? Tyrande sighed heavily, and turned her back to Jaina to walk off, she turned her face over her shoulder and saw tears run down Jaina's cheeks. The child would have no name, a bastard child that would have no father, no titles, no lands. She had heard the rumours, a sensitive subject she dared not broach, shrouded in mists she daren't request to enter. The woman in her felt sorrow for Jaina. She was so young and had already experienced a woman's worst nightmare if the whispers were to be believed. However,the warrior in her felt Jaina acted like the world of Azeroth owed her a favour. That she needed to toughen the fuck up. Harden herself to be a good leader.
"You, Jaina Proudmoore, are a pretty little fool." she whispered to herself as she turned the corner
Jaina heard a gentle scratch of knuckles at her door and instantly knew who it would be. She smiled," Enter Anduin."
She watched him glide through the door, her smile broadened like a Cheshire Cat grin when she saw the steaming mug of coffee, he was holding out to her. Eyes widening in excitement.
"I know you are technically not allowed caffeine and under bed rest, but I thought you could do with a pick me up. Stormwind's finest roast!" he held out the cup and Jaina gratefully took it from him like an eager child in a sweet shop down in the Trade District.
She inhaled the smell of roasted hazel nuts like it was air. Jaina took one sip and melted into the headboard of the bed, the velvet plush and moulding into the shape of her body. Closing her eyes, she sighed. Anduin chuckled softly, it was a pleasure to watch Jaina find solace in a coffee cup.
He cleared his throat, suddenly remembering he was checking up on her, and wanting to find out information, "Jaina—"
She snapped her eyes open, and waved a hand to cut him off, "—Don't Anduin," she hissed harshly, her temper growing. The arcane flaring in her blue eyes. She threw him a glare as she felt the arcane settle in her. Silencing him instantly, she didn't wish to talk about it. She didn't feel ready. The guilt shook her, that she didn't head Sylvanas's warnings, that she was almost sure she had been mauled by Genn. His dearest friend, his, mentor. It would break his heart. Would he even believe her if she mentioned it? Her vision then was so murky, like walking through a fog on the edge of Darkshire. She couldn't have been sure herself. In her shock and recoiling the coffee flew up and sploshed over the floor, the cup like pottery smashing into jagged pieces on the wooden flooring.
He reached out a gentle hand, she recoiled and pulled away from him. She couldn't stand to be touched after what she had been through. Yet she craved the Banshee's cool and soothing touch. She blinked at him, as if he were a vision, startled and a frightened expression crossed her face. Anduin sighed and reluctantly withdrew himself.
"Sorry, I…. I…." Jaina stammered, wrapping her arms around herself and looking gloomily into the bedsheets. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a sharp intake of breath, holding his gaze, "I can't stand to be touched by anyone, Anduin." Tears slipped out of the corners of her eyes.
Anduin's gaze fell to the bandage wrapped around her forearm as her sleeve curled downwards around her elbow, he breathed deeply, "Jaina" He said softly, "You need to talk about it. You can talk to me."
"Don't tell me what I need Anduin! I will make that decision!" She retorted hotly, her temper flaring. Why did she feel so angry suddenly? She felt the old and re-hashed hatred for the Horde, for the sunreavers resurface but in the disguise of her own reluctance top head warnings. Her crippling self-doubt that anyone was her friend. That anyone would care for her. Frost crackled and wrinkled itself around her fingertips. He gulped and looked at the ground, at his feet, at the walls…. anywhere but at an angry Jaina with unpredictable frost magic.
"I'm here for you Jaina. Just know that, okay?" He said gently, she looked up at him then, surprise parting her lips, the watery glaze over her eyes. She chewed on her bottom lip and nodded, accepting the peace offering silently.
"Anduin?" She all but whispered.
Anduin just about heard her as he turned to cross to the door, noting their conversation was done, "Jaina?"
"What…. what happened to my mother?" She stuttered, holding her breath at the apprehension and hesitation to answerer her question. In the pit of her stomach, she knew the answer. She just didn't want to admit it.
He gave her a look of sadness, of regret, "I think, that is a question you must ask The Dark Lady."
The door closed softly, leaving Jaina alone in her room with her darkest demons.
The scraping of a chair along a ray of frost was the first to ring out over the council chamber. Jaina stood, she couldn't bear the stuffy atmosphere of the counsel chamber any longer. She had tried relentlessly all week to get the Banshee Queen alone. To ask her the one burning question on her mind that no one else would answer. Not even Vereesa. Sylvanas had been absent from counsel for the last few days, their wedding loomed ever closer to them, the Banshee Queen held up in Ogrimmar dealing with official business with Baine, Lor'themar and Nathanos. She had nothing to smile about, Sylvanas seemed ever more distant from her. She felt like she was being ghosted by Sylvanas constantly. Jaina felt she was going stir crazy with restlessness and agitation. There was still many treaties and documents they both had to sign and settle. But half of her couldn't be bothered dealing with Tyrande Whisperand being introduced back into the Alliance with the deal Anduin had managed to bribe her with, let alone her own shit.
Jaina felt like the walls were closing in on her, like she needed to punch a hole in the roof to gasp for air. Water filling her lungs to the point where she tried to scream so loud that the one person, she needed to hear her couldn't. She had been Sylvanas-sober for years, promising herself she would never risk it ever again. The drought Sylvanas had left in her was the worst. She would never be fully clean of Sylvanas Windrunner. She was the drug she needed to cling to most.
Jaina stood, looked around at the questioning face and excused herself, hiding a grin behind her braid and portaled out of the council chamber and into the middle of Grommash Hold. She had expected to see Sylvanas lounging on her usual fashion on the exquisite throne, but the hold was empty. Jaina's eyes slid to the shadows of every corner, nothing. No Dark Ranger or anything. She let out a long huff of frustration and groaned pinching the bridge of her nose. She flounced onto a cushioned chair to the side, leaning forward her elbows on her knees.
Think Jaina…. Think!
Jaina gasped and recalled a conversation she had had with Vereesa, about Sylvanas being sentimental and if she couldn't be found on official business she would be traced back to the start of her life.
Windrunner spire.
Jaina felt like there were warning sounds, flashing lights in her mind, she knew what became of curious minds. Red eyes flashed before her in a vision, jumping down the rabbit whole she portaled to Windrunner Spire, onto the balcony she had once stood on with Sylvanas as Ranger General. She looked around her eagerly, it was far from the wonderland she had remembered it to be. It had lost is gleaming golden appearance and had settled into a dusty grey scale, into the background as time went on. She heard the crack of a bone and whirled, expecting some undead scourge. She knew they didn't touch her, knowing her history with Arthas.
"Well, this is surprising. Paranoid about my ware bouts already Proudmoore?" Sylvanas sneered, crossing her arms over herself and sitting onto the edge of the balcony.
Jaina held her gaze, the red eyes clashing with the familiar sapphire eyes. There was something about her arrogance that irritated Jaina, "Hardly, Banshee. Don't flatter yourself so." She straightened, holding her staff tightly, "There is much we need to discuss." Jaina's eyes narrowed to slits.
"I would love to sit down and discuss minute ideals with you Proudmoore, but I have official business to attend to." Sylvanas drawled, inspecting her gauntlet in her bored ways.
Jaina growled at the instant, ignorant and arrogant dismissal, she would not be treated so. She was The Lord Admiral. If she had to, she would make Sylvanas hear her she would. Jaina fired an ice lance her way, making her wobble on the balcony. Sylvanas growled and her sneer turned into a snarl, all fangs.
She leaped down from the balcony and circled Jaina like a sabre cat savouring her pray, "So, the little mage came to play."
Jaina never took her eyes from Sylvanas, "Think of it how you will. I came to ask you one question. You don't irritate me Banshee, the fact I had to hunt you down agitates me more so." Jaina threw a chain of Ice out and it wrapped itself around Sylvanas's wrists.
Sylvanas grunted in reply, she stopped dead in front of Jaina as she pulled on the chain, they were but a hair's breadth apart. Jaina looked up at her, the admiral anchor between her breasts glowed a low sky blue, Sylvanas took a tendril of Jaina's hair that had fallen from her braid and twirled it around her finger. Jaina's breath hitched in her throat, anxiety raising in her chest with every rise and fall. The air around them still but hung heavy with a thick atmosphere of foreboding.
"Usually my lovers treat me to dinner first before getting the kink out." Sylvanas whispered against Jaina's neck, planting a small and gentle kiss on the crook. Jaina's hand splayed between Sylvanas's breasts, on her chest as she pushed the Banshee back. Sylvanas's gaze widened.
"What did you do with my mother?" Jaina asked steadily, holding Sylvanas's scarlet glare.
Sylvanas froze at that question, Jaina stilled her grin twitching on her lips. The fingers that twirled Jaina's hair stopped suddenly, dropping her hand to her side, Jaina felt bereft. The chains melted, leaving them standing in a puddle. Sylvanas regarded Jaina coolly. The pine trees of the forest surrounding the spire rustled softly in the breeze. Jaina could see she was debating telling her the full truth. Jaina gave her a look of trust. She knew herself it was risky putting her trust in the Banshee. They were to be married for the greater good of Azeroth, they would have to learn sometime. Sooner rather than later.
"Do you really want to know?" Sylvanas asked, her voice dead and flat and her face expressionless.
Jaina tried to read her face but found herself being viciously cut off. Sylvanas's face a vision of the forsaken porcelain mask. Schooled in not giving away anything. Jaina chewed on her bottom lip, she knew she evoked a reaction out of Sylvanas as Sylvanas turned away at the sight of that bottom lip being played around with. Jaina's eyes flickered to the twitching thumb of Sylvanas's gauntlet. She investigated her back, the burgundy cloak billowing in the breeze. Her being, her presence was forever Forsaken.
"Yes," Jaina finally breathed,
Sylvanas folded her hands behind her back in a professional fashion, she didn't turn to face Jaina. "I left your mother on Thro's. I am letting her suffer her worst nightmare." Sylvanas stated, politically of course, folding her arms behind her back, stiffening.
Jaina felt the words echo around her, she gripped the balcony and her staff for support. She knew it was coming, some where she knew it was true, she knew Sylvanas would never feel any mercy for anyone, not even her own race of Forsaken. Jaina knew what her mother had done, had lived through I to tell the tale. But the island was something she couldn't face her mother being on alone. No one deserved that fate.
"Why?" Jaina suddenly demanded, it burst from her before she could stop it. Magic crackled around the hand that gripped her staff as the blue crystal glowed angrily.
Black smoke swirled around the heels of Sylvanas Windrunner's boots, she stood with such stillness only death could bring, Jaina couldn't comprehend what she had just heard, "Must I really answer what is so obvious Proudmoore?"
"Why can't you just answer a question with a straightforward answer for once!" Jaina cried out hotly, her anger swelling in her throat. She felt her face grow hot and flush with anger.
Sylvanas huffed out a bark of laughter and turned to Jaina, Jaina threw an ice lance at Sylvanas and Sylvanas dodged easily, "I shared everything with you Sylvanas! I let you see everything!" her eyes flashed with a burning blue, "I hate you. "Jaina whispered furiously.
Sylvanas shrugged, "What is new there? The world is how it should be." Sylvanas snarled. Sylvanas was the acid to Jaina's alkaline. Jaina felt her hands ball into fists, frost bursting from under her feet, encasing the entire balcony.
"I will never marry you! Not even for Azeroth! You are nothing but a dead bitch! You will never be 'free, you're so filled with hate…." Jaina hissed heinously. Trying to regain her composure.
Sylvanas laughed an evil laugh and evaporated into a purple mist, the words of Sylvanas's low voice seemed to whisper through the wind, rustling with Jaina's anxiety, "Oh, but little mage you signed the contract…." Jaina let out a wild scream of hurt and anger, she knew the contract was iron clad tight. Betrayed by her own thinking that the Banshee had done a good deed, so she would reward that. Thinking there could have ever been a peaceful or a common ground they could venture into. Jaina battered the balcony with numerous frost magics until she felt exhausted and portaled out of Windrunner spire, leaving it to freeze.
Jaina gulped her coffee down in the council chamber like she was necking back shots of whiskey, her displeasure spread Widley over her face as the Banshee strolled in and sat opposite her. The Warchief of the Horde sat back, her elbow on the arm rest, her face leaning against her finger and thumb. She had a satisfied gleam in those scarlet eyes that Jaina wanted to take a swipe at with her fists. Jaina noticed everyone was seated, her eyebrow raised as Lor'themar followed by Baine into the chamber. So, he and Tyrande had re-joined. She wondered how much Sylvanas had had to bribe him to come back into the Horde, he was set on leaving once it was announced Jaina was to be the consort of the Warchief and vice versa. She shifted in her seat nervously, there were still many things she had to discuss with Sylvanas.
Or torture her for.
Her head would look so beautiful rolling by her feet, cut off from her neck by my hand…
Jaina couldn't contain her anger from across the table. She looked down at the papers in front of her. Anduin had started the chamber off with a usual introduction, the contract of Sylvanas Windrunner and Jaina Proudmoore, peace agreement as such. It was a final draft, both would be mutual prisoners in each other's care to serve a higher purpose, a higher victory. Jaina grunted at the word "victory". She could feel Sylvanas's Cheshire cat grin from across the table at the word.
Without much objection, the council came to an agreement on the contract. Jaina would spend 6 months at Ogrimmar first. Sylvanas 6 months at Stormwind secondly, out of the year. The two cities the central hubs, they would be the overall rulers of the one fraction. Everyone would keep their remaining kingdoms, their remaining titles. Several conclusions agreed on with some reluctance from Sylvanas and Jaina. Sylvanas was not to set foot into any of Tyrande's territory unless escorted by Jaina Proudmoore, with one weeks' notice. Ashenvale trees replanted for every tree cut down. A new tree of life to be replanted and grown. Jaina was not to set foot in Quel'Thalas without the escort of the Warchief herself. Jaina was also to help rebuild the damage done to the relationship between the Sunreavers and Dalaran. The two most powerful women in Azeroth had grumbled at the agreement but relented for the higher victory.
As they came to the end, a scroll of parchment appeared in the middle, chains of purple and blue wrapped around it like ropes. Tightly suffocating it. The two women knew this was the last step. Sylvanas waved her hand, and drew a jewelled dagger out quickly slicing across her palm and a feathered quill quickly dipped itself in the blood that dripped onto the paper in front of her, it scrawled her highly, elegant elf signature across the bottom, under the chains.
Jaina's eyes narrowed at her triumphant expression.
Your turn Proudmoore…
Jaina frowned and caught the dagger Sylvanas had slid and spun her way across the table. Everyone held their breath and watched in anticipation. Jaina's eyes met Sylvanas's. Sylvanas watched intrigued, her gaze attentive. The Banshee leaned her palms onto the table eagerly watching. The snarl forever widening, all fangs and teeth glinting in the glowing light of the chained agreement. Jaina proudly sliced her palm, not even flinching. Letting the blood drip in the earie silence, onto the paper in front of her. Her own feathered quill dipped slowly into her blood and scrawled her signature under Sylvanas's.
The chained agreement disappeared, leaving the two women feeling as if no one else was in the room, intently glaring into each other's thoughts. They both walked around to the side of the table, reaching out bloodied palms and clasped their hands together. Jaina's pure blood meeting Sylvanas's dead and black ichor. Vines of magic, glowing white and blinding wrapped themselves around their clasped hands and forearms. Jaina hissed at the tightening of the veins around her arm and hand, the cold sting of Sylvanas's blood meeting hers as their blood bound them to each other. The light dimmed, and the energy settled into a low thrum as they pulled away from each other, Jaina ripped her robe and bandaged up her hand tightly. Sylvanas couldn't hide her smirk as she wiped her bloodied palm on Nathanos's tunic sleeve.
Jaina walked slowly around to gather her papers, everyone averting their eyes. She neatened the papers and tapped them into each other, "It's done, I marry Windrunner in the morning."
Their fates sealed forever by blood.
Sylvanas swung her long legs over the armrest of the throne back in Garrosh Hold, slouching down she watched the slice in her palm stitch itself lowly back together, till there was the faintest outline of a scar. Nathanos paced in front of her, she rolled her eyes and scoffed.
"My Queen, I have a bad feeling about this…. arrangement with Proudmoore."
Sylvanas had noticed that Nathanos had become more outspoken lately, intent on challenging her about Proudmoore more and more often, and while she didn't show agitation in her voice, she made sure there was authority, "Oh really Blightcaller? I don't recall ever asking for your opinion. Besides, the blood pact has been sealed. I marry Proudmoore in the morning whether you like it or not."
Nathanos threw her a questioning look, "There are ways out of it My Queen."
She sat up straighter, hissing "And how would that look Nathanos? Please explain to me if you think I am incapable of understanding."
He nodded, he straightened, squaring the shoulders and stopped his pacing, "I hope you have a plan My Queen. Proudmoore won't be an easy woman to handle."
"You think I don't know that Blightcaller? I would grow bored if Proudmoore wasn't a challenge." She chuckled, shrugging she continued, "However, she plays an important part in my plan. Only I can challenge her."
Nathanos nodded meekly, detecting the warning in her tone. Hiding his eyes under the shadow of his cloak, "Yes my Queen." He looked to the doorway to the dungeons, "And what of the prisoner?"
Sylvanas unclasped her gauntlets and threw them to the ground, "Let her rot for now." She sneered as she shook her hair out with her hands. Nathanos's mouth dropped slightly at the sight of Sylvanas fully relaxing.
Nathanos shook his head roughly, "Proudmoore is still unaware? You have hidden that very well Dark Lady."
Sylvanas leaned her head back over the arm rest, her eyes rolling towards him. A grin curling onto her lips, her fangs showing like a satisfied cat grin that had snared her pray, "Oh, she hates me, and she is blissfully unaware." She stretched on the throne and yawned, for the first time she felt so relaxed she could drift off into rest, "Leave me Nathanos, your questions are boring me. Go play with the prisoner." She waved her hand dismissively, he grumbled and stomped off reluctantly. Sylvanas grinned and waited till he had left hearing the clunk of the lock, she slouched more into the plush velvet of the throne, she pondered over the problem that Baine had run into with Lor'themar.
Naga.
Thinking of the creatures of the sea, a certain sorceress sprung to mind, clouding her thoughts. She wondered for a moment if Proudmoore could control Naga. Apart from chopping their gills off with arrows she didn't know much on how to outflank them. But she had to keep this information contained, otherwise a certain mage sticking her nose in would not be wise and cause more panic and harm than good. The idea of Jaina taking on Naga invaders both entertained her and horrified her. It was possible these Naga belonged to Azshara herself. That is what horrified her.
Her hair drifted over the arm rest and brushed against the floor, her thoughts fluttered back to Jaina, remembering her was burning red in her head. Being without her was dull as the colour grey. In truth, with the number of scars Jaina had given her, both physical and mentally she should have forgotten Jaina Proudmoore long ago. As she drifted off and her eye lids grew somewhat heavy, Jaina Proudmoore stood in her white wedding dress, silver hair glittering in the sunlight, waiting for her at the altar of Cathedral, yellow tulip petals brushing past Jaina in the wind.
Jaina stood on the balcony, peering off into the docks, hearing the cathedral bells chime. Every hour a gut-wrenching reminder that she would be marrying Sylvanas Windrunner at noon. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, looking over her shoulder constantly, her wedding dress coming into view. She had had the long, flowing lace sleeves added at the last minute to cover the bandage on her arm. She despised Sylvanas now, but she turned her attention back to the still night of Stormwind she remembered and had to whisper to herself internally that this was for Azeroth. She rubbed her face with her hands, leaning her elbows on to the balcony she craved the sea salt air of the docks. The open seas, her escape.
Jaina tapped her nails on the stone, watching dawn break slowly, purples and pinks blazing into one another. Her anticipation at the thought of being forced to live in Orgrimmar for 6 months out of the 12. Of how she would be the Warchief's consort or worse a prisoner. She was a prisoner; she had dealt with that. She wasn't too sure how the Orcs, or the people of Orgrimmar would receive her in general. After she tried to drown it in a massive wave once. She twirled the elven ring the Banshee Queen had given to her in a moment of …tenderness? Jaina wasn't even sure what that was anymore. It glowed a faint purple, she wondered for a moment holding it up to get a better look at it what it was enchanted with. She huffed out a small bark of ironic laughter, she had something new, something old and something borrowed, all she needed was something blue.
She decided to run a bath, flipping her hair to one side she slipped her robes off and felt the sting of the hot water welcome her cold skin. Slipping in she let her hair hang loose over the edge. Closing her eyes, she yawned, this was going to be a long day. She wondered if there was enough wine to accommodate herself let alone everyone else there. She waved her hand and a full glass of wine appeared in her other hand, she took a sip, letting the tangy and bitter taste sink down her throat.
She wondered if she would be left alone like this in Orgrimmar, would she have the privacy she so craved at times. She closed her eyes. Breathing in the sent of peacebloom in the mists that rose up to meet her nostrils. Deeply losing herself in the clean rush of the water over her skin, she didn't notice the cool hands that had creeped into the lengths of her hair over the edge of the tub. Dancing through to her neck, she gasped as she felt the clasp of something cold and metallic lick at her skin, something heavy placed over the anchor pendant. Her eyes shot open, travelling down to her chest, she could see a sapphire no bigger than the size of a robin's egg, heard the click of the clasp, she whirled and grasped the wrists of Sylvanas Windrunner tightly. The wine glass smashing to the floor, bouncing and rolling and coming to a stop in front of the pristine white dress.
"Don't you know its bad luck to see the bride before her wedding?" Jaina smirked, a sickly-sweet smirk. Jaina's raised a feathered eyebrow at the lust harbouring itself in Sylvanas's red eyes. Jaina's flashed an arcane warning in return.
Sylvanas plucked a wrist free and took enjoyment in prying Jaina's fingers from her one by one, resting a head on the side of the bath she knelt, holding her warning eyes, "Something blue…"
Jaina's nostrils flared as Sylvanas rose planting a delicate kiss with her cool lips behind the Mage's ear. Jaina's chest heaved with deep and heavy panting. She watched the Banshee and heard the click of heals melt back into the shadows of the doorway. She knew the Banshee knew better than to push her today. She threw an ice bolt at the door and it shattered like crystal into a thousand pieces, clattering like icicles to the ground. Imagining it spearing Sylvanas Windrunner through her dead heart.
Jaina stood on the stairs of Stormwind cathedral, Anduin held out his arm and she gratefully took it, her finger tips lightly grazing his arm as if it would burn her. Vereesa fixed the train of her dress, they both had solemn faces. Anduin leaned in gently and whispered, "Jaina, it's not too late. Aunty, you still can pull out."
Jaina glanced over her shoulder at Vereesa fiddling with the train of her dress and getting flustered with the various amounts of material. She could have sworn Vereesa silently let tears slip from her eyes, muttering curses in Thalassian. The lace looked so fragile and delicate in Vereesa's elven hands that it could snap at any moment.
She turned sadly to Anduin, a vision of loveliness he observed, fresh water and silver pears threaded through her hair. In a more intricate braid that had obviously taken most of the morning to perfect. Loose tendrils framing her face. Her pale skin illuminated by the iridescent fabric of her dress. He felt himself blush as his eyes transfixed on the sapphire by the anchor pendant.
That was new.
He would marry her now if he were older. He felt this should have been more of a happier occasion. His heart ached for her at the watery glaze in her eyes. There was no turning back now, it was too late. He had been wrong. "And what then Anduin? Say if I do, we go back to war. We wouldn't last a week." Jaina let out an exasperated sigh. She twiddled the silver threads of her lacy sleeves.
Jaina composed herself, swallowing the sob rising in her throat, steadying the flush in her cheeks of anger and humiliation that she was about to saddle herself to the Banshee Queen forever. She took a deep breath and nodded to the guards; they swung the doors open.
Sylvanas stood at the top of the altar, her armour new, perfectly polished reflecting a burgundy light in the sun, falling in through the stained-glass windows, the dust glittering like the autumn leaves. She turned to watch, Jaina couldn't read her expression as Anduin slowly and reluctantly led her to her fate. Jaina recognised everyone there, new and old faces. Some happy to see her and some frowning concerned.
Jaina's thoughts raced through her head and came to a grinding halt at the echo of Sylvanas's voice telling her how she had dreamed of her own wedding when she was alive. Jaina felt spite trickle up her spine, a grin flashing along her lips. She waved her hand behind her back and yellow tulips tinged with a dusting of frost grew into a crown around Sylvanas's head and framed her so perfectly polished armour. Threading chained bracelets around her wrists of the same frosted yellow tulips. The same yellow tulips Sylvanas Windrunner; The Ranger General had fallen in.
Jaina caught Sylvanas's fiery glare, returning it with a satisfied cat like grin of her eyes. Jaina came to a grinding halt, Anduin pulled away. Sylvanas's face was a porcelain mask. Jaina felt a triumphant glow from within. She had won this round.
The bells rung out as they growled and spat "I do."
They didn't kiss.