If there was one thing that Jaina excelled at, it was burying her problems. Except, little by little, events and the day to day chipped away at her until she was left raw and exposed.

And after years of this, on the eve of Sylvanas's big announcement, it was the stupidest, smallest thing that finally set Jaina off. She realized they were going to miss their anniversary, and then realized that that upset her, which snowballed into a cascade of conflicted emotion that had overwhelmed her. Jaina barely remembered getting up from her desk and teleporting.

It wasn't far, still within Orgrimmar, but there were private places if one knew where to look, little crannies in the rock face out of view and memory for most.

Jaina curled up in one, resting her forehead on her knees. Her entire body was shaking and what was she doing? Living in Orgrimmar. Sharing a bed with Sylvanas. She… she looked forward to seeing Sylvanas. To working with her, to evenings and mornings spent in companionable silence.

It wasn't just sex and attraction and need. If it had just been that, Jaina could have dealt with it. She had dealt with it, or so she thought. Accepted it and her attraction from the day she'd willingly gone to her knees for Sylvanas.

But she loved Sylvanas and the line between Horde and Alliance had blurred and broken a long time before she'd come to that realization.

Lost in her own head, Jaina didn't notice someone had found her until a hand gently touched her shoulder. Startled, she nearly fell out of the cranny, only saved by Yukale's hand catching her and pulling her in.

Yukale didn't say anything, instead wrapping an arm around Jaina and allowing Jaina to lean against her. Jaina rested her head on the Kaldorei's shoulder and sighed.

Her tears had dried some time ago, but she still felt shaky and ill. "Do you remember when life was simple?"

"The last time life was simple was before Thrall sailed to Kalimdor," Yukale pointed out. "And even after that, I could still find simple moments. I've walked the length of both continents, shared memories with friends and loved ones of quiet sunrises and gentle laughter. I think that there are always simple moments, but you don't appreciate them until after they've passed."

"Yes. I suppose you're right." Jaina frowned. Simple moments of late had been with Sylvanas. Kalira. Tyra. She was more Horde than Alliance now, yet she'd stolen moments with Vereesa and even, recently, with Tyrande. And Yukale, she supposed. "Have you ever sat in a room with someone, neither of you talking but each of you doing something different, and yet still be...comfortable, still feel like there was a connection?"

"Yeah." Yukale nodded, a smile crossing her lips. "Good friends, family, people you love. Just being near them can feel nice. You don't have to talk or do anything exciting. You can just sit here, and…" Yukale gestured. "Watch the clouds."

There was a nostalgic note in Yukale's voice and Jaina was reminded of something. Like a memory she'd forgotten, a hazy picture rose to the surface. She reached into her pouch and pulled out a lock of green hair. "I… I think I was supposed to give this to you. And tell you something, but I'm sorry. I can't remember. Everything after the wave and before I woke up in Theramore is blank."

Yukale's eyes locked onto the hair, her breathing suddenly shallow.

Slowly, Jaina lifted her hand, stroking her fingers over the threads in Yukale's hair. "I'm sorry," she repeated, as she braided the lock into the rich purple hair.

"It's...It's alright," Yukale said hoarsely. "I can guess."

She touched the lock once Jaina's hands had dropped away, and Jaina thought about the people they'd both lost. Each thread in Yukale's hair represented a person who was no longer with her. She'd lost them all, she'd loved and cared for them and they were gone, but she kept moving. She kept living, and laughing, and loving. With enthusiasm, most days.

Jaina thought that lesson was something she needed to learn. To keep living, to move on. To accept the new and love people even if loving them might hurt. "How long did you fight it? Wanting someone else?"

"Longer than I should have," Yukale admitted.

"And loving her? Loving the enemy? When did you realize you loved Unariel?"

"Booty Bay," Yukale said, so quickly that Jaina knew how deeply the memory must run. "First time we...uhm. You know." She waggled her hand. "Next morning Deathwing wrecked everything, we barely made it out alive. But I knew then. After everything that had happened between us. All the times we'd fought against each other or alongside each other. Somewhere along the way I'd fallen for her."

She lowered her head, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "But I think that was when I finally came out of my grief. It still hurts, it'll always hurt, but I'm happy."

"Somehow, I think that's exactly what she wanted," Jaina said, eyes drifting to the green braided into Yukale's hair. "Though I can't tell you how I know that or where that lock of hair came from."

Yukale looked at her, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Thank you. So what about you?"

"What about me?"

Leaning in and kissing the side of Jaina's head, Yukale said. "Have you finally come out of your grief?"

Arthas. Father Theramore Pained Kinndy and all the faces, all the faces Jaina remembered. Fresh tears slid down her cheeks, and she said. "It still hurts. You're right. It will always hurt."

"But?"

"I'm … happy?" Jaina shook her head, feeling something she had forgotten could exist within herself. Something like peace.

"I'm happy."

It was a big change, though one that had been long overdue even before the wedding. The massive throne of Garrosh and Vol'jin was gone. In its place was one less wide, well cushioned and with a tall, ornate back, upholstered in a red so deep it looked like blood. Horde, yes, but undeniable as to who the Warchief actually was.

There was another difference. A second seat on the throne's left. Somewhat less tall, but equally ornate.

The only other difference was the color. The Consort's throne was purple. More red than blue, of course, yet still a mixture of the two.

And Sylvanas was almost eager to see Jaina's reaction, having to admit to herself she looked forward to seeing Jaina seated in it. She sat in her own while she waited, leaning against the left armrest with one of her legs dangling over the right as she watched the preparations for the discussions with the Alliance.

Most of the details had already been worked out; today was mostly ceremony and the signing of a few key documents that had taken longer to agree to. And the wording of the announcements were still up in the air.

"Warchief." Galnir approached, stopping in front of her and saluting. "Most of the requested Alliance champions have arrived in the city. There are only a few unaccounted for but I've been assured they'll arrive before the meeting. All Horde champions are ready."

"Very good." She tilted her head, studying him. "I am placing you in command of this force. You are to work directly with your Alliance counterpart, whoever King Wrynn chooses, to secure our victory. We'll discuss the details tonight, but I did not want you surprised when the announcement was made."

"Of course, Warchief. We'll crush our enemies, for the Horde!" He saluted again, and she waved her hand in dismissal.

Orcs were always so dramatic about battle.

Her relationship with them could be described as rocky at times. Sylvanas leaned her head back, hanging it off of the side of the throne as Galnir walked out of sight. She was relatively certain that if she hadn't bought peace with her Jaina gambit, the Horde could have potentially dissolved under internal pressure.

Fools and their lack of foresight.

She felt the energy on the air before Jaina entered the Hold, lifting her head again to watch her wife. The distracted look on her face, the momentary surprise and the way her eyes took in the dual thrones. Jaina's mouth opened slightly as she moved forward in a daze, eyes darting from the Consort's seat to Sylvanas.

Sylvanas let her head fall back over the armrest again as she smiled, flashing her teeth. "I told you, we are equal."

In the space of a heartbeat and with movement too fast for most to detect, Sylvanas was sitting properly in the throne, though she leaned her elbow on the left armrest as she gestured. "Sit, Lady Proudmoore. You earned your place a long time ago and it was past time to show you that honor."

Jaina looked at her again, and Sylvanas did not disguise her expression from her wife. She was pleased with herself for this, and perhaps, though she'd never admit it, a little anxious about Jaina's reaction.

Slowly, Jaina sat, adjusting to the cushions - and adjusting to all the unsaid things the throne represented. Power. Prestige. Control.

Sylvanas ran her hand down Jaina's arm, the thrones close enough for them to hold hands comfortably if they chose, as a sign of their unity. "What do you think?"

"This is a lot," Jaina said, settling against the back and studying Sylvanas out of the corner of her eye. "My tired feet thank you, Warchief."

"Very good." Sylvanas was about to say more, overcome with the strangest need to be frank with Jaina, when guards rushed into the Hold.

"Warchief, Consort."

"We really need to find you a proper title," Sylvanas deadpanned. She gestured for the guard to continue.

"The Alliance leadership has arrived."

"Have them escorted here immediately," Jaina said, glancing sidelong at Sylvanas. "And notify the Horde leadership of the same."

The guard saluted, quickly turning and rushing away. Jaina leaned closer to Sylvanas, whispering. "Is it wrong that that gave me a bit of a thrill?"

"Perfectly normal," Sylvanas replied, eyes sharpening to red points at the rumble in Jaina's voice. "Don't tell me you did not enjoy giving orders in your previous positions."

"I'd forgotten." Jaina smiled, placing her hand over Sylvanas's for a fraction of a moment before leaning away.

Her timing proved to be impeccable, as the first of the leadership entered the hold. The First Arcanist and High Priestess moved almost in sync. Sylvanas noted the imperceptible shift in Tyrande's expression as she registered the new thrones, and Jaina's presence on one, before she moved to the right to stand in front of Jaina, slightly to the mage's left.

Thalyssra nodded once at Tyrande before moving in the opposite direction. Sylvanas narrowed her eyes slightly, wondering if perhaps she'd allowed the two elves too long a leash, then flicked her gaze above and to the left to where Kalira waited. She was missing something, and she wanted her daughter to find out what it was, discreetly.

And what she was missing was Malfurion.

Kalira disappeared as the rest of the Horde leadership started to file in, interspersed with their alliance counter-parts. The Trade Princess gave Jaina a little wave as she took a position next to Lor'themar, shifting back and forth on her feet.

Jaina's mother entered second to last and the expression on her face would bring fond memories to Sylvanas for years to come. In fact, not one person had missed the implications of Jaina seated next to her. The Horde would say nothing, at least not in public, no matter how uneasy some of them might appear to be. And Sylvanas would invite them to speak. In private, to herself and Jaina.

Some of the Alliance also looked distinctly uncomfortable. If Whisperwind was bothered, she did not show it, but Greymane looked more infuriated than was his usual. Prophet Velen was unreadable.

Only Moira really seemed unsurprised.

King Wrynn, as they'd agreed, was the last to arrive. This entire event had been carefully crafted; from forcing the timing of each arrival to match a cross-faction counterpart, to where they stood. Only the throne and Malfurion's absence weren't entirely planned for.

At least, Anduin Wrynn hadn't been warned about the throne, just as Sylvanas suspected he'd already known about the Druid. Sylvanas was pleased by the split second of shock the King displayed before he caught himself. She stood as he approached. "Now that we are all here, I suggest we dispense with the formalities."

Anduin nodded his head, turning to look at the other Alliance leaders. "Agreed. This isn't the time for grand gestures and speeches."

"There'll be time for that later," Sylvanas assured everyone, clasping her hands behind her back as she shared a look with her wife. "King Wrynn, shall I do the honors, or would you like to?"

"Gathering outside this Hold are heroes of the Alliance and the Horde," Anduin said. To his credit, he didn't hesitate in taking a position next to the Warchief, and if he noticed Greyman's low growl he didn't react.

Sylvanas could sense Jaina standing, but she looked at Anduin instead, smiling a predator's smile as she made the announcement. "They shall be the vanguard of a strike into the heart of our shared enemy. Furthermore, King Wrynn and I have come to an agreement." Her eyes flicked to Greymane and she held his gaze. "With the relative success of previous joint operations, the armies of the Horde and Alliance shall, temporarily, become one."

Predictably, the entire Hold erupted into shouting. Greymane was by far the loudest, and Sylvanas watched as Lor'themar got into a heated argument with the old dog. The Council of Three Hammers were involved in a dwarf-only screaming match with each other.

"Silence!" Jaina's magic-amplified voice boomed through the chamber, and the arguing came to an abrupt end. She walked down the steps to join everyone else, looking at everyone in turn. "Do you think the attack a year ago was the end of it? Do you think that Azshara has been waiting for us to recover and get our acts together?"

No one said anything, and Sylvanas felt as though all her senses were honed onto her wife. Jaina nodded at her, and Sylvanas turned to regard the First Arcanist. "My consort has suggested that Kaldorei and Shal'dorei forces be the first to be integrated. The vanguard behind our Champion Spear, if you will."

"You both know Azshara better than any of us," Jaina said. She focused on Tyrande."And of everyone in this room you've the most vengeance owed."

Tyrande stood still, expression as veiled as it had been since she'd walked in. "I will have General Feathermoon coordinate our armies with the First Arcanist. I believe I can convince the Wardens to assist as well."

Sylvanas was paying attention, specifically to catch the look that Thalyssra and Tyrande shared. Calmly, as if she were inquiring about the weather, Sylvanas inquired. "What of Shando Stormrage?"

"Malfurion is otherwise occupied," Tyrande said, too sharply. "There are too many wounds in the planet still left to heal and it takes all of his attention to assist Speaker Magni."

Interesting. Kalira would confirm that for her. Sylvanas simply nodded. "Very well."

"You can't be serious." The Lord Admiral stepped forward, gesturing with her hands. "Do you remember the last time we trusted the Horde in battle? Do you remember the Broken Shore?"

Anduin's hands clenched and there was genuine anger in his voice. "I am very much aware of what happened at the Broken Shore, Lord Admiral."

"We settled that a long time ago, mother," Jaina said. Sylvanas could see the strain in her jaw, and hear the tightness in her voice. Even after all these years, it took considerable effort for her to speak like this. "And if you would recall, despite your not actually being there, Warchief Vol'jin was also killed during that battle and the Horde was forced to retreat. It was a lost cause before we ever landed."

"We were fed false intel by a Dreadlord," Baine pointed out.

Velen tapped his staff, and a wave of light rippled through the room. It made Sylvanas's bones ache and burned like fire, and she shot him a glare as he said, "No dreadlords."

"See? No one is a Dreadlord," Jaina said, looking directly at her mother.

Katherine stood there for a heartbeat, eyes locked with her daughter's, before taking a single step back and standing stiffly at attention.

"We've still much to discuss," Anduin said, the tension still thick in the air.

"I've written all the proposals up, as well as recommendations for army integration and deployments, though much of that is up in the air until we know what we're dealing with," Jaina said.

"Give the champions their marching orders?"

Jaina smiled at Sylvanas, "Yes, dear." She walked out of the Hold, though Sylvanas stared at Katherine instead.

Katherine did not rise to the bait.

Yukale looked around at the gathered Champions. There were several from the Nightsaber Vanguard present, which was a small relief; she worked well with them, even if she was still uncomfortable in a leadership position.

Her Aunt Eilirria was present, leaning against her Core Hound and chatting with her Ren'dorei mate, Kelanthris, and Yukale's mate Unariel. Eilirria had fifteen years for every one that Yukale had lived, and yet she had turned to her instead when they'd reformed the Vanguard after Teldrassil burned.

It had been the two of them first, of course. Then their mates, and Yukale's sister and her wife. Some other long time friends and comrades, such as Cenengel, who she was pleased to see was also present.

As she took in her fellow Champions, she wondered if there were a few too many of the sneaky sort. Besides herself and Una, she recognized the Worgen Talet and Korvand. They at least came with their respective Mages, and a tough looking Dwarf Paladin stood next to Talet, holding her scruff in a loose, comforting grip.

On the Horde side, she only really knew Galnir and Minuial. There was a lanky troll with a line of nervous looking mules who Yukale could only assume would constitute part of their supply line, the Sin'dorei warlocks she'd had that friendly rivalry with on the island, and another ten of varying talents and abilities, including at least three more rogues.

"Hey, Yukale!"

Yukale started, then looked over as Tyra approached her. "You coming on this little adventure with us?"

"Nah. Gotta keep an eye on my ladies." Tyra scratched at her chin, stopping in front of Yukale and staring up at her.

"I'm pretty sure they can handle themselves."

"Sure," Tyra said. "Until they can't. Yeh know how easy it is ta get complacent an' caught off guard. Better for me to take an arrow or somethin'."

Yukale felt an old ache in her chest. "Anyone tries, you'll kick their ass."

Tyra grinned, then reached up and fingers the lock of Kiska's hair braided into Yukale's. "Can I … can I ask yeh somethin', Yuka?"

"Anything." She took Tyra's hand and squeezed it.

"It's okay ta move on, ain't it?"

"...that ranger?" Yukale guessed, thinking of the one that was almost always around Jaina.

"Aye."

"I'm not surprised. And it's okay to move on, Tyra." Yukale leaned down and hugged her.

"Thanks." Tyra stepped back, giving Yukale a knowing smile. "I'll leave yeh to yeh commandin' then."

Yukale scratched her head as she watched Tyra return to the Hold, then shrugged. They were running out of time, so she supposed the warrior had a point. Yukale approached her… well her sister-in-law she supposed, waving to catch the dark-skinned human paladin's attention. "Aveline, have a moment?"

"Of course."

"We don't know what we're going to find, but I'm going to need you to coordinate our heavies with the Horde heavies. And to keep an eye on my sister while you're at it." Yukale felt Unariel silently appear at her left.

Aveline smiled at her, reaching up and squeezing her arm. "Always, sister. I swore my shield to her a long time ago and as long as I draw breath I will shield her, and all of us."

"I hope I'm not interrupting."

Yukale turned at the sound of Jaina's voice, Aveline stiffening to attention next to her. Unariel remained unperturbed and Yukale kept a relaxed air as she smiled at Jaina. "What can we help you with?"

Jaina smiled at her, some kind of mischievous glint in her eyes that made Yukale immediately nervous. "By orders of Warchief Sylvanas and High King Wrynn, you, Yukale Ravenwing, champion of Azeroth, have been placed in command of this spearhead operation."

"Wait, what?" Yukale blinked once at Jaina, then looked helplessly at Aveline, then past Aveline to where Galnir was giving her a sympathetic look.

"Congratulations." Jaina turned and walked towards the supply Troll, leaving Yukale standing there in a daze as the weight of the world literally slammed down onto her shoulders.

Again.

Unariel stood on her toes and kissed Yukale on the cheek. "So what are your orders, babe?"

"Get me a-" Yukale took the flask Unariel whipped out and swigged from it before handing it back.

"Perfect, thanks. Aveline, your orders still stand, but I'll need you to get a list of the Horde champions from Galnir so I can figure out a chain of command that doesn't favor either faction too heavily. Una, gather up all our rogues, I have an idea…"

Jaina rested her hand on Millet's neck, watching Ihz make her preparations. The noise and crowding had the more nervous of her beasts nearing open rebellion, and their handler had her work cut out for her."If you need anything to help keep them calm, let me know."

A cheerful blue head popped up over Millet's back at the sound of her voice. Dog had apparently not earned the same level of trust that allowed Ihz's shepherd to sit balancing herself on Thorn's back, safely out of harm's way. His long tail poked out one end of a leather saddlebag, counterbalanced on Millet's other side with what Jaina suspected were rocks. His head stuck out the front from under the leather flap firmly laced closed over him, tongue lolling as he observed the world.

Ihz waved her hand, more irritable than usual somehow as she coaxed a dark, long-limbed gelding from the rear of the train to put him on a pony lead at Barley's side. "Between Horde an' Alliance we should get a stable portal soon enough, even Buckwheat here's well used to those. Ships will be three weeks of hell till then, zeppelins no better, but if we be needed, fine. We'll be second wave, once there's a base camp t'get supplies to."

"Yes, of course."

If anything the Troll's movements were gentler and more careful than normal, but even Millet seemed to pick up on the snap in her mistress' voice. Before Jaina could ask about her mood, Ihz glared at her. "Dis better not be Windrunner's idea of a joke. I know the job, Lady, I never complain and-not a damn word," she warned, and Jaina quickly schooled her expression. "My team's steady an' dependable an' quiet but we're overland necessities, you don't get fast or exotic, an' I don't need to be taught humility over any of it. Sure as hell can't breathe underwater an' mules are cautious, Proudmoore. They don't take to strange magic well. Damn blue dragon of yours once tried to 'help' us move faster and-never mind. My train's wrong for the job, an ocean campaign. Do more good anywhere else."

Jaina looked around, then leaned in and spoke softly. "This is going to be common knowledge soon enough, but two days ago, a druid who'd been posted to a watchpost flew in, half dead. He said Nazjatar has risen. We've got scouts on the way, but this mission is as much about gathering intel as it is establishing a beachhead."

Ihz took a deep breath, swore, and leaned back against Thorn, lifting her hand to run her fingers through the thick, comforting fur. "Could've retired, Nettle. Had a nice soft mail run to Stromgarde lined up a week ago, but no, Warchief sends for us personally..."

"You could have refused."

"Don't insult me," she said mildly. She regarded Jaina for a moment, before saying, "Heard you remodeled."

"What do you think?" Jaina still didn't know what she thought. Just thinking about it made her stomach do flips.

Ihz gripped Thorn's mane, thinking. "No use for thrones, Lady. An' Warchiefs don't share power easy, even good ones. But you earned it."

"I'm not entirely sure that's a compliment," Jaina said, tilting her head as Ihz grinned at her. "But I'll take it as one."

Ihz nodded to the action behind Jaina. "Ravenwing. She's really in charge?"

"Yes."

"Same rogue prancin' around with straws in her nose last night?"

"I'm sure she had a good reason."

"Sure did," Ihz said. "Was makin' all da kids laugh."

Jaina's expression softened. "A very important skill."

With how serious the world could be, and how serious it was going to get, laughter might become something of a premium.