If there was one thing that Jaina needed, it was a good, stiff drink. She just didn't want to drink in her office, or the Sanctuary, or even at home in the Residence. Jaina didn't actually want to wallow alone, and she didn't trust herself around Sylvanas.

So she wandered around Orgrimmar until she found a tavern. It was easy to miss, set into the rock of the canyon and hidden near Enda's shop. The decor was almost human, though tending towards the darker end of the spectrum. The barkeep was a Forsaken man with a mop of straw-like hair and what appeared to be a worm living in his left eye.

He smiled at her, most of his teeth cracked or missing and rasped. "Welcome to The Acceptable Place, Lady of Orgrimmar."

Jaina wondered how much living business he actually got, since it took someone with a strong stomach to stare at him and still drink or eat. But she took a seat at the bar. "Nice to meet you. Please call me Jaina."

"Of course. I'm Sam Michaels." He set a clean glass in front of her and jerked a finger at his eye worm. "This is Jenella. What can I do you for?"

"Hi… Jenella." Jaina eyed the worm dubiously, then looked directly at Sam. "Whatever you've got that kicks like a mule. And don't water it down, I'm friends with actual mules."

"What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"I needed a drink," Jaina said, taking the glass once he'd filled it. "It's been an intense few weeks."

"I'll say. The day after I opened this place all hell breaks loose." But the look he gave her made Jaina think he knew the battle wasn't the primary reason she needed a drink. Though it was probably pretty well known by now exactly the kind of reappearance she'd made and the length of her recovery.

Having the distinct impression that Jenelle was judging her, Jaina lifted her drink to her lips as she considered her words. Something that she wasn't sure she could even ask Tyra, but oddly something she could ask a complete stranger. "May I ask you a personal question?"

The barkeep shrugged, the cracking of his bones and rustling of dried skin the only sound in the bar. "Worst that happens is I don't answer."

"Do you still feel things? Joy? Happiness? Love?"

He seemed to think about that for a moment, good eye unfocused, then murmured, "Not now, Janelle, I'm thinking."

Great, his mind had rotted away. Jaina might have picked the wrong Forsaken to ask.

But then Sam nodded his head. "I do. Some of us don't. Some of us feel more than I do. I think it's an individual thing. Maybe the things that give us joy changed after we died for some people? I used to love…" He trailed off. "Well, I can't remember so it must not be important. But I love what I do now, and I've got good friends to do it with." He jerked his finger at Jenella.

Jaina was pretty sure that Sylvanas remembered everything, and seemed to hate most of those memories. Even of things she'd loved. It was almost depressing, in a way, and Jaina knew her wife was one of those who felt less.

"Does that help?" Sam asked.

"A little. Thank you." She might need to ask Tyra after all.

Nodding, Sam left her to finish her drink in peace. By the time Jaina was done with her glass, she'd decided that she was going to have a nice day. There were people she hadn't seen in awhile, at least outside of emergencies, and it would do both her and the city good to see her alive and healthy.

Leaving a nice tip for Sam, Jaina slipped out of the bar, composing a few letters in her head. She wanted to personally thank Yukale for helping at the battle, and she was long overdue for that chat with Lissibeth.

There was also the author of a dissertation Jaina had read while she'd been bedridden. I Told You So, or: Musical Notation and Arcane Resonance: Inherent Intersections of Patterns, Structure, Layering Technique, and Controlling For Emotional Variance had made her very interested in meeting the young mage, if only because the fiercely vindicated tone of its account of the victory against Ashvane's fleet had Jaina deeply amused and deeply curious about the underlying academic drama behind its publication. She'd recognized a few bits of the paragraph she'd once read what felt like a decade ago, the day Dalaran moved. So a letter to her, too.

Jaina drew out a parchment and quill and set them to floating around her, dictating her letters as she walked. It was so freeing to exercise her magics again, in a non-destructive and productive manner. It would be another week, maybe even two, before her reserves returned to the level they'd been in before her display, but she felt much, much better.

By the time her letters had been written and magicked away, Jaina found herself in the Valley of Honor, and she knew exactly where she wanted to go. Passing a dozen children beating each other up with sticks, she cast a spell to give them a common enemy in the form of an animated target dummy and snuck off to one specific door.

Minuial answered, looking Jaina over as if expecting injuries. "Please tell me this is a social visit, I took a twelve hour nap after our last healing session."

Jaina held up her hands. "Social visit. Promise."

Glancing past Jaina to where her daughter was tanking the dummy, Minuial shook her head and smiled. "Your timing is good. Galnir is making dinner."

Jaina followed her inside, glancing around. Minuial's home looked like any typical Orcish dwelling, save for a few Sin'dorei tapestries that showed the healer hadn't entirely rejected her heritage. Just mostly. Jaina noticed packed supplies. "Mission?"

Minuial nodded. "Yes. Sort of. It's a mission and also kind of a vacation."

"The Warchief ordered us to take a month off," Galnir said, walking out of the kitchen, holding a sizzling pan and wearing a red apron with the words 'Me Am That Kind of Orc' on the front.

Jaina covered her mouth but couldn't contain the laugh that burst out.

Galnir glowered, but there was an amused glint in his eyes. "She bought it."

"It's true." Minuial gave her husband a devious smile.

Idly wondering how Galnir hadn't snapped his mate in half by accident but also not wanting to know any more details, Jaina interjected. "You earned yourselves a break."

"We're going to lose our minds," Minuial sighed, watching Galnir return to cooking. "He handles idleness worse than I do. But… We've never really taken the children anywhere before. I'm even willing to put up with my family just so they can see Silvermoon."

Jaina looked at her knowingly. "You don't get along with them."

"I mated with an orc," Minuial pointed out. "The only thing worse for them would have been a troll. Or an ogre."

"I'm sorry." Jaina both understood what it was like to be estranged from family, and to have a bias that cut so deep. She'd come to hate that part of her life, and as she watched Minuial and Galnir interact she marveled how far she'd fallen after Theramore and swallowed the guilt like a bitter pill. She never blamed anyone who still hated her.

"I never got along with that side of my family to begin with. It was almost a rebellion against them at first." Minuial's smile broadened, and Jaina remembered her skill on the battlefield and how it contrasted with the sweet, serene image she so often displayed.

"There are certainly less enjoyable ways to rebel," Jaina agreed.

Anduin had his hands clasped behind his back as he walked with Yukale through the temporary Keep, a simple but solid wooden building they'd set up while the main structure was repaired. Genn stalked a pace behind, next to a visiting Moira Thaurissan. Anduin gave Yukale a glance, "How long do you think it'll take them to get here?"

"Cenengel didn't want to risk a letter, or even using the radio. And that was probably a wise decision," Yukale replied. "The only thing she'd say was they'd discovered some information from a prisoner and were riding south."

"Sounds like she and Vereesa didn't trust a mage portal either."

"Or they didn't have one available." Yukale shook her head. "It might take a few days to reach Ironforge, it's a shame the Tram is still collapsed."

The easiest and quickest way between the two kingdoms, but also a great way for an enemy to infiltrate. Anduin knew it would take years to repair, if repairs were even possible. He glanced back at Moira. "Ironforge has other repairs to worry about first."

"Aye," Moira agreed. "We'll be diggin' out the Hall of Explorers for months. But at least we ain't worryin' about relocating everyone like Velen is."

Anduin nodded. "If you can get my people a list of needed supplies, I'll see what we can do to help. In the meantime, it might take our messengers a few weeks to get here; less if they can use the air." He turned his head towards the champion. "Choose a small team. One of your own, perhaps Lorna or Tess too. I want you to meet Vereesa on the road and escort them back here. I'm sure they can handle themselves but I'd rather not take any chances."

She nodded. "Aye, sir. That won't be a problem."

Genn, who'd been ominously silent the entire conversation, growled under his breath. Anduin came to a stop, turning to look at him. "What is it, Genn?"

"All of this and we're still ignoring one of the Elekks in the room," Genn said, his eyes flashing. "Lady Proudmoore is either compromised or coerced. Or both."

Yukale opened her mouth to object, remaining silent when Anduin held up his hand. "Explain."

Looking for all the world like this was the last thing he wanted to talk about, Genn huffed out, "I think it's obvious that her dalliances with the Warchief have not been forced on her."

Anduin frowned, brow furrowing. "Yes. My source has been very clear on that. For whatever reason, Jaina appears consenting."

"But why?" Genn said, insistent. "Maybe she's not being held down against her will, but there are other ways to coerce someone. Or what if she's appeasing Sylvanas for other means?"

"Sleeping with the enemy to keep her happy?" Anduin asked, not liking the direction this conversation had gone. "Or to earn privileges? Protect us?"

"She's … lonely," Yukale pointed out, ears drooping slightly at the thought. "Consider all she's been through, all she's lost. I'd let Sylvanas into my bed just to feel alive again. Ironically."

"She rarely leaves Orgrimmar, she's always around Sylvanas. She's compromised."

Anduin actually felt the urge to strangle Genn. "It might be a lot simpler than that. And she leaves Orgrimmar at least once a week. Maybe she isn't visiting Stormwind, but Dalaran, Thunder Bluff..."

"Ye ever consider that she might actually like her?"

Anduin turned to Moira. "What?"

She just raised her eyebrows, folding her arms and smiling knowingly. "Remember that whole thing where everyone thought I was married against me will? No one stopped t'ask if I actually hated t'bastard or no."

"No... " Anduin murmured, as Genn shuddered and exclaimed at the impossibility of the idea.

Only Yukale said nothing, studying Moira. It drew Anduin's attention, the understanding in that look, the…apology. Had Yukale been one of the champions who Moira's father had convinced she'd needed rescue? He'd been too young, back then.

There was no condemnation or anger in Moira's answering look, or subtle nod.

Yukale sighed, and said, "I was attracted to Unariel a long time before she embraced the Void and defected to the Alliance. In love with her, even. You can't dismiss how powerful emotion can be or the lengths it could make you go to. They say familiarity breeds contempt, but that's not always true. It's rarely true."

Moira just nodded, then nodded again at each of them. "I'm goin' tae come up with that list y'want. But maybe we should talk more 'bout this later."

"Agreed," Anduin replied. He watched her go, throat bobbing as his mind wanted to put two and two together. He ignored that.

Genn simply huffed, turning on his heel and walking off down another hall. Anduin had to wonder if he thought Jaina sleeping with Sylvanas meant she was compromised, and what it meant that Anduin almost could agree.

Jaina was a full grown adult, nearly twenty years his senior. She was perfectly capable of making her own decisions. But those decisions were playing with fire. What happened if they had a falling out? What if they fell in love? For that matter, did it mean Sylvanas was capable of forming emotional ties?

Maybe it was just stress relief. Some kind of bargaining. Maybe Anduin was just in denial. Despite Moira's carefully chosen words, he knew she'd loved Thaurissan.

He looked at Yukale, then nodded his head for her to continue with him. "Were you part of the team sent in to retrieve Moira?"

"Yes." Yukale's eyes glowed faintly in the dim hallway. "And she loved Dagran Thaurissan, but it was too late when that became clear. I can't tell you if she and King Magni ever made amends, if she ever forgave him."

She turned her gaze to him, and though Anduin knew she was young for an elf there were still multiple human lifetimes in her eyes. "Whatever is going on with Jaina, we can't make the same mistake with her, your majesty. For her sake."

"And the Aliiance's. If she were only less defensive, I'd be more comfortable taking her at her word. But when it's so obvious that she just wants my informants to leave her alone..." Anduin closed his eyes. "I trust her."

"Me too," Yukale said, her smile broad.

Falling silent, Anduin turned the corner and stopped abruptly, Yukale nearly running into him.

Tyrande stood with First Arcanist Thalyssra, head tilted as she leaned in close, her hand lingering on Thalyssra's back as they spoke. She turned her head, dark eyes flicking between Anduin and his companion. She straightened, nodding at Thalyssra before approaching them. "Good morning, your majesty."

"Good morning to you as well, High Priestess. First Arcanist." He bowed his head to both as Thalyssra joined them. "I wasn't expecting either of you in Stormwind. To what do I owe the honor?"

Beside him, Yukale had a neutral expression on her face but a glint in her eyes as she took in the two women. Tyrande gave her a warning look and if she'd been about to say something, she kept it to herself.

Okay. Anduin set aside that puzzle for later as Tyrande answered, "We have been discussing closer ties for our people, though I am in Stormwind to discuss additional matters as well. Pertaining to Kul Tiras's insistence in meddling where they aren't needed."

Yukale bowed to her, then the First Arcanist and finally Anduin. "I've got my orders, I'll see you when I return."

Anduin watched Yukale's hair bounce as she jogged off down the hallway. "Well then. We can discuss it here or over breakfast." If he had to deal with politics on an empty stomach he'd probably make serious mistakes.

"I think breakfast sounds good," Thalyssra answered.

It made Anduin raise his eyebrows, but he set that aside as well. "If you'll follow me, ladies."

They fell into step beside him, Tyrande between himself and Thalyssra. It was good, he thought, that the Shal'dorei and Kaldorei were exploring closer ties. He'd known Tyrande to have held a bitter, angry view of Thalyssra's people, but they were more alike than not, and in this new world that was being built it was better to be together than apart.

Anduin set them up in one of the rooms that was sometimes used for matters of diplomacy, ordering food to be brought to them so they could eat while discussing. He chose a round table, so that they would all be equal. These women were older than his entire species, and deserved all the respect due their positions and experience.

It was something he'd been giving more and more thought to since the attacks.

Tyrande had barely sat before she started speaking. "Three times in as many weeks, Kul Tiran ships have arrived in Kaldorei ports to flex their muscles."

"I'm sure the Lord Admiral is just being proactive, considering the increased Naga activity since the attacks." Anduin leaned forward on the table, noting the tense lines in Tyrande's jaw and the way she relaxed slightly when Thalyssra murmured something in Darnassian.

"If it was only that, I would still resent the implication that we cannot defend ourselves, but in all three instances my people were involved in trade disputes with the Horde." She tilted her head, studying him as he nodded for her to continue. "These are simple matters, things we can easily resolve on our own. We do not see anyone stepping in to slap Ironforge's wrists for being cautious in accepting goblin aid to dig their city free. We do not need the threat of a naval bombardment to come to an agreement."

There was a very fine needle for Anduin to thread. He couldn't just ignore Tyrande's complaints, but he also had to be careful in how he handled Kul Tiras. And having Thalyssra here was several layers of unnerving.

When had that happened? It couldn't have just been Tyrande sending sentinels to Suramar. There had to have been another overture, something before that to open the dialogue. And it had happened without anyone telling him. But Anduin couldn't-wouldn't-spy on his own people. He sank back in the chair. "I'll speak with the Lord Admiral, and remind her that unless danger is imminent, one should wait to be asked for help."

Tyrande nodded. "If there were an actual conflict, I would not turn away help. But this is different. This is intimidation and sometimes I wonder who, exactly, they are trying to intimidate. The Lord Admiral dismissed my concerns, telling me that she only works in the best interests of the Alliance."

This was dangerous territory and Anduin shook his head. "It's nothing like that. They are our allies, and their help is generous but misplaced. I'll speak with the Lord Admiral and make it clear that she's being overzealous."

Silently, Tyrande studied him. Finally, after what seemed like a century she nodded, and then stood. "I need to speak with King Greymane. I'll see you tonight."

Anduin watched her go, trying to calm his gut. He wasn't sure how he was going to weather the next few weeks, but he was the High King, and if he had to drag Tyrande Whisperwind and Katherine Proudmoore to a table together to talk, he would.

"High King."

Remembering Thalyssra was here, Anduin turned to her. "Yes, First Arcanist?"

"I am not here just for the High Priestess," She said, regarding him seriously. "I have discovered something that was stolen from Suramar, and both the Warchief and I agreed that it was best to inform you in person."

He thought of Vereesa's news, and wondered how serious the situation must be for Thalyssra herself to come to Stormwind. "Not here." Standing and feeling weary right down to his bones, he added, "I hope you like cheese."

Sylvanas actually liked Harleen. But it was easy to like any goblin in comparison to Gallywix, and Harleen was eager to assert herself and her new position. She leaned forward on the throne, giving the Trade Princess an interested look. "You granted every Bilgewater adult a stipend?"

Harleen nodded. "And we're gonna cover healer services an' make sure no one'll starve. Y'know, basic stuff!"

"How, precisely, are you going to pay for this?"

"Gallywix's fortune to start. Taxes after that."

Goblins and taxes did not usually agree and Sylvanas had her concerns. But as long as the strikes were over she wasn't going to interfere. It might be an interesting experiment, at least. "I want you to speak to Lady Proudmoore. Such things are in her wheelhouse, so to speak, and I am sure she will be of more help than I. Carry on as you have been, and the Bilgewater will remain important members of the Horde."

"Sure thing, Warchief!" She saluted her, then bounded out of the Hold.

Could Goblins overhaul their entire society? Sylvanas had her doubts, but she'd let them try as long as they remained loyal to her Horde. Settling back, she tapped her fingers on the arm rest; there was no other meeting planned and it left her alone with her thoughts. Thoughts that continued to return to a certain mage.

Sighing, she got elegantly to her feet. "Kalira."

Appearing from Sylvanas's left, Kalira bowed her head, and waited. Sylvanas touched her chin. "Look at me."

Lifting her head, Kalira wore a wary expression, but she waited still as Sylvanas looked her over. Obedient, but not without rebellion in the set of her shoulders, the fire in her eyes.

"Dark Lady?" she asked, finally. "What is it?"

She let go of Kalira's face, feeling a sense of regret and longing that she'd thought had been dead and buried. But Jaina had dislodged something, finally breaking through the wall that she'd cracked ages ago. "I raised you because I lost your mother, and I swore I would never lose you."

"You just didn't want to be alone."

"Yes," Sylvanas admitted, tilting her head. "There is that, too."

Kalira searched her eyes, then took a step closer, and then a second. She stopped just shy of actually hugging Sylvanas, but it was still the most intimate she'd been with her since before their deaths. "Some day. Not today. But some day, I think Jaina Proudmoore might actually do the impossible and help me forgive you."

And then she stepped past her, and Sylvanas allowed the words to sink into her until they settled in her chest like a lead weight.

She was still standing there, an hour later, when she sensed Thalyssra enter the Hold. She turned to face her, narrowing her eyes as she scented Tyrande on her. Something to keep to herself, for now. "How did the cub react?"

"He volunteered whatever resources are necessary to aid us in recovering the relic, and others that were stolen," Thalyssra replied.

"Good." The weight lessened, just a little. "I have a champion trying to track them, and I'll summon a few more. She will need help recovering them if our suspicions are correct."

"There's one more thing, Warchief."

Sylvanas gestured for her to go on.

"I learned that your sister Vereesa interrogated a Naga captured during the attack. Whatever she learned was so sensitive that she's traveling by horse back to Stormwind. The King ordered his favorite champion to rush to her aid."

"Interesting." Sylvanas smiled. "I wonder if he'll tell us first, or we'll find out from one of our spies before he has the chance. Cooperation only goes so far, after all."

"Sylvanas! There's something very serious we need to talk about."

Jaina's voice drew her attention away from the First Arcanist, and she watched with curiosity as her wife entered the hold. As always since she'd returned, Sylvanas studied her carefully, looking for any sign of weariness or weakness. But Minuial's healing skills were second to none, and most of Jaina's magic pool had returned.

"What is it?" She asked, once Jaina had come to a stop.

"I did the math." Jaina waved her hands, as if describing the math in the air. "And the Alliance report on the Naga arrived half an hour before our report, therefore I win."

Sylvanas merely smiled. "Actually. I ran the numbers myself, and the Horde report arrived before the Alliance's. Therefore, I win."

Jaina smirked. "Time zones."

Sylvanas could feel her expression souring at the thought of Greymane's face. She studiously ignored the twitch of Kalira's lips and pretended no one had noticed her drooping ears. "Then I suppose it's a tie."

Smirking, Jaina patted Sylvanas's chest. "Mm. That's what I thought."

"Get a room," Thalyssra murmured, before excusing herself.

Sylvanas flicked her tongue against her canines. "What an excellent idea."