Nazjatar. Sylvanas studied the map. She'd had some of her best crafters build a scale map from the initial scouting reports and aerial photographs from druids and gyrocopters. They had, as best they could make, a somewhat accurate depiction of the island and city.
Little figures represented the beachhead and initial strikeforce. Others were Azshara's army of naga. Soldiers and spellweavers, giants and hydras and things from nightmare.
She lifted her eyes to Tyrande, present at Wrynn's behest, who was leaning on the War Table with both hands. Thalyssra stood next to her, left hand on her right shoulder as they studied the map together. Sylvanas studied them for a long moment, hands clasped behind her back. She felt something rub against her leg and nudged at Varian with her foot.
Tyrande shook her head. "No matter how we arrange our forces, the casualties will be great and the war will extend well into the next year. They've been fighting since before Hallow's Eve and have barely held on."
"Winter's Veil shall be grim this year," Sylvanas replied, eyes darting across the table again. She could not place what, but it felt like they were missing something.
"The last report from Galnir described heavy resistance from the Naga." Baine moved some of the enemy units. "And that they were congregating here. That foothold on the beach is tenuous at best."
"Maybe it's a trap?" Harleen pulled herself up onto the corner of the table and peered at it. "Like she's gonna lure us all in an' then close the noose."
"It's very likely." Thalyssra moved a few more units. "It's inevitable our Champions will hold the beach. But once they advance, the jaws snap shut, and by the time the rest of our armies arrive it will be too late."
Jaina tapped her lip with her thumb. "A fast ship with some reinforcements will arrive with the dawn. That will buy them some time."
"The rest of the transports are still two days away," Lor'themar pointed out. "And are being harried by the Naga. We will lose some before they even get to the battle."
"Once we have the beach, what then?" Sylvanas asked. She added additional units to the map,arraying them as they'd discussed with the joint forces. Varian rubbed against her again and she gently pushed him away. "They will be sitting ducks for Naga mages and archers."
Tyrande shook her head. "Unless Ravenwing's plan works."
Seemingly fed up with the lack of attention, Varian hopped up onto the War Table, scattering units everywhere. He bounced across the hills, over the main part of the city itself, took a detour through the harbor to gleefully bat half the Zandalari navy across the map, and then sat down at the seat of Azhara's throne, looking pleased with himself.
"So good of you to join us," Sylvanas remarked dryly. "Your majesty."
"I'm so sorry," a mortified Jaina announced to the War Council, sidling around the table to pick him up. Varian, pleased with the new game, leapt out of reach and sent several infantry legions flying before pouncing on a Forsaken cavalry unit and attempting to eat it. "We-I try to keep him out of here but with so many people coming and going-"
"Not like it was doin' us much good anyway," Harleen pointed out, cracking her back. "I think we've redeployed seventeen different ways in the past hour and they all stink like Old God chunks left in the sun. So glad we know that from experience now."
"Sometimes there are no good deployments," Thalyssra said quietly. Jaina, who had finally ushered the menace she called a familiar onto an empty section of table, murmured in agreement. The First Arcanist moved to start gathering unit markers up. "We will have to do the best we can. Perhaps if-Warchief?"
Sylvanas, eyes locked on the aftermath of the cat's passage, had snapped up her hand before anyone could touch the map. After a moment, Thalyssra's eyes widened in understanding.
"You've got to be kidding me." Baine leaned in, staring at the new troop distributions, and then at Varian, who'd begun to clean himself. "Warchief, are we absolutely sure that, somehow, this is not actually Varian Wrynn?"
Jaina barked out a laugh, but Sylvanas turned her attention towards Tyrande. "It could work."
"Yes, it could…" Tyrande glanced at Thalyssra, then at Sylvanas. "I shall bring this up with King Wrynn. It's … enlightening."
Baine, meanwhile, leaned in towards the cat and whispered, "Varian, if that is you, give me a sign."
Varian reached up and batted at one of the feathers dangling from Baine's horn.
The Naga weren't going to let them win this war easily, Anduin knew. It wasn't just the Naga they faced either. Faceless Ones and other abominations joined the battle as frequently as not, and Yukale's reports were grim. They'd advanced little in recent weeks, even with the wave one reinforcements.
The plans and positioning as shared with him by Tyrande were brilliant, but not all the pieces were available to place just yet. Many of those had just set sail with the second wave, though Anduin felt guilty for sending them so close to Winter's Veil.
It couldn't be helped. Rubbing his forehead, he set the report aside, feeling hopelessly alone. Tyrande had left Stormwind to coordinate her forces coming in from Kaldrassil, and Genn was en route to Nazjatar with wave two.
"Your majesty."
He looked up as an aide peered in apologetically. "Yes?"
"A package for you, from Lady Proudmoore."
Interesting. Perhaps an early gift; and Anduin desperately needed a distraction right now. He nodded at the young man. "Bring it in."
The man darted his eyes, then made a motion. Another aide brought in a box. And then a second box. And finally a third. Anduin furrowed his brow, getting up and walking to the table they'd been placed on. He opened the first one, which was filled with stacks of paper. On top was a note.
To prevent further inquiries, Jaina
He set the note aside and picked up the first page, reading the title out loud, "Consent Form For Sexual Relations With The Warchief Of The Horde."
There were thirty pages, all notarized, and judging by the number of boxes Jaina had filled them all out at least ten times.
Anduin knew he'd deserved this. It was so absurd, and yet so Jaina that he started to laugh. It was a laugh he hadn't known he'd needed until just then. In the face of war and death and the blood that was spilling even now, Anduin had needed this.
And because he'd deserved it, he sat down and read the entire consent form. It turned out to be a delight, because Jaina had filled it with a number of inside jokes and stories for him, along with a heartfelt letter on page six.
He decided he really needed to get one of these Typographers. Genn was right; they'd lost a strategic advantage in paperwork through Jaina's efficiency.
Several hours later, he'd constructed a proper response to Jaina's opening salvo in the hopes it would buoy her mood too. Leaving his chambers, he walked through the lonely keep, feeling like there was something wrong with it.
It was too new. He'd grown up in these halls, beneath these stone walls, but they weren't the same. They were new stone, new construction, and even many of the rooms and halls had been redesigned. The place he'd known was as dead and buried as the person he'd been before the last war with the Horde.
Anduin wondered who he'd become after this war.
Coming to a stop in the new gardens, Anduin leaned against a tree and looked out over the city. It looked peaceful with Winter Veil lights flickering. Still licking its wounds from the attack, a tense energy laying over the city like a fog, but it was healing. Anduin would give his life to ensure Stormwind and all the peoples of the Alliance would have that peace. And even, he had to admit, the Horde.
The sound of bells drew his attention towards the harbor. The docks were brand new, a dozen ships docked or at anchor. Wave three would include that fleet and six others sailing from every corner of the Horde and Alliance. A dangerous gambit, bringing all that to Ashara's doorstep.
He looked to the city again, calculating the garrisons that would remain to defend it, or Orgrimmar or Kaldrassil. Enough, he hoped, with Azshara focused on the main assault.
The sun would rise soon, bringing with it the holiday. Anduin decided two things just then. First, that he would not actually spend the holiday alone; he would spend it in the city, with his people and those who still waited the order to go to war.
And secondly, Anduin Wrynn would sail to war with the third wave.
There was little reason for festive cheer this year. Though some did make valiant attempt to proceed as normal, there were fewer stalls. No rationing had been introduced yet; supply routes, especially overland, remained strong. But the populace remembered the last war, and while food cooked it was a cautious feast, the frugal celebration of a city unwilling to waste food that might soon be scarce. Even the music seemed subdued, as if the musicians felt that playing too loud was inappropriate at best or would invite disaster at worse.
But Sylvanas had not allowed for the celebrations to be entirely canceled. To do so would drastically impact the morale of an already depressed citizenry.
She leaned against a wall, inspecting some kind of candied apple in her hand. Of much more interest, her wife was near the tree in front of Grommash Hold, dressed in one of the festive outfits that were sometimes passed out. Her long legs were exposed up to her thighs, above which she wore red shorts with white fur trim. Her top was about as revealing, with the same color and trim.
If Jaina was cold, she didn't let on, merely peering back at Sylvanas occasionally and giving her an extremely distracting smile. With a war just beginning, Sylvanas reasoned, they could stand for a little bit of distraction, and she took the opportunity to openly admire Jaina, not caring if anyone saw.
"Mother."
Sylvanas tore her eyes from Jaina. "Have you discovered anything of interest, Kalira?"
"I believe so."
The distraction cost her, as a snowball impacted the side of Sylvanas's head. Whirling, she stared open-mouthed as Jaina grinned at her, and threw an entire volley.
Six snowballs hit Sylvanas, though not hard enough to make her move. The square was suddenly very still and very quiet, a citizenry which had previously been milling about and watching the festival suddenly intensely focused on whatever stand, menu, or other distraction was immediately in front of them and did not require them to breathe too loudly.
After a long moment, Sylvanas heaved a sigh. "And here I had such high hopes for peace. Alas, I am forever dogged by treachery." She brushed snow from her face and chest, gave Jaina a polite smile and then turned towards a group of children who were staring at her with a mixture of excitement and fear. "Well? Get her."
At the Warchief's order, the children sprang into action. There were representatives from nearly every faction of the Horde, and a few Alliance members as well. To Sylvanas's ever conflicted emotions, they worked together as a unit, engaging Jaina from multiple fronts.
A few snowballs hit Jaina before she brought up a low powered barrier. It wouldn't last long against the onslaught and Jaina had clearly made it so the children could break through without it being too hard or too easy.
She ran to the eastern side of the Valley, her eyes glowing blue as she pulled together a spell.
Ice and snow built around where she stood, forming walls and towers and a gate as a fortress rose beneath her. It was small by Horde standards, but just large enough to present a challenging and fun objective for the growing raid of children making plans outside the gate.
Sylvanas felt something freeze her limbs. If she could breathe, she'd be hyperventilating. Those glowing blue eyes, a fortress of ice, it was too much like-
Kalira touched her arm and she snapped back to the present. "What?"
"Are you all right?"
"I am fine." Sylvanas folded her arms across her chest, eyes focused on the red-clad mage atop the tallest tower. "Do me a favor, daughter."
"What do you need?"
Sylvanas's eyes flashed with thinly disguised amusement. Jaina had struck first, and Sylvanas was never one to play fair. "Supply the children with Goblin Snow-blowers."
Kalira reflected the amusement. "This might force her to escalate, Warchief. She's already deploying water elementals at key points."
"That is exactly what I am counting on." Sylvanas clasped her hands behind her back, watching the snow-war as it raged. It was a good lesson, she decided, for the children to begin to learn the basics of warfare. She had a few other ideas, perhaps for the next year.
Something to look forward to once Azshara's head was hanging from the Gates of Orgrimmar.
It took approximately three hours before the attackers managed to breach Jaina's last defenses. She went down under a hail of snowballs, dying in the most dramatic fashion she could manage.
It almost made Sylvanas laugh.
"Warchief!" An orc girl ran up, saluting. Sylvanas recognized her as one of Galnir's brood, and she nodded at her to continue. "Jaina Proudmoore has been defeated! She requests your presence to discuss terms of her surrender."
"Does she? Very well, lead me to your prisoner." She followed the girl through the now-destroyed snow fortress. In the last tiny courtyard nearly thirty children formed a line on either side for Sylvanas to pass through.
She actually felt something close to delight at the display, but kept that feeling hidden so that no one, least of all Jaina, might pick up on it.
Jaina was sitting on an ice chair, green ribbons 'binding' her to it. She looked up at Sylvanas with faux defiance. "So the Warchief shows her face at last."
"Here I have you at my feet," Sylvanas replied, placing enough emphasis on the last few words that Jaina's face colored. "And you have the gall to try to set terms?"
"I'll surrender my fortress to your army," Jaina declared.
"And you'll surrender yourself to me," Sylvanas said, eyes like pinpoints. She reached down, picking Jaina up and throwing her over her shoulder. Turning around, she called out. "Victory for the Horde! I shall take my prisoner to discuss further terms. The fortress is ours!"
She barely noticed Jaina using her magic to repair the fort as she carried her out of the Valley of Strength and straight to the residency.
"You can put me down at any time," Jaina said, smacking her hand on Sylvanas's butt.
"Mm. No." Sylvanas patted Jaina's in kind as she ascended the stairs. Jaina shook with barely contained laughter as Sylvanas casually maneuvered her inside.
She didn't set her down until she'd dumped her onto the bed. Sylvanas regarded Jaina for a moment, before speaking. "Tomorrow we sail on The Banshee's Wail and the Tempest. Today was the last chance for some time for us to enjoy ourselves."
"I was going to suggest that myself. It's past time we joined the battle proper." Jaina shifted to her knees in front of Sylvanas, slowly undoing the buttons of her shirt and seemingly intent on extracting whatever else she could from this night. "So you admit you enjoyed yourself."
"That should never be public knowledge." There was a single large button keeping Jaina from falling out of her top and Sylvanas removed that with a quick, dexterous move. Her eyes drank in her wife's exposed breasts.
"Naturally, the Warchief isn't allowed to have fun," Jaina said. She moved unexpectedly quickly, pulling Sylvanas down into the bed as she pulled herself to her feet.
Sylvanas looked up at her, inexplicably excited and so surprised that she didn't hide either from her. "That is ... new."
Leaving the top on but unbuttoned, Jaina slid the shorts off her legs, then knelt on the bed as she hooked her fingers into Sylvanas's waistband and pulled her trousers off. She peered at Sylvanas through a curtain of hair. "As part of the terms of my surrender, I'm going to take care of you. And then..."
Her voice lowered. "You're going to take care of me."
Sylvanas tried to sit up, only for Jaina to shove her back down. Since this role-reversal was entertaining, Sylvanas allowed it. Jaina's lips trailed from her ankle, past her knee, her tongue darting along the inside of her thigh.
And then Jaina did something else unexpected. She shook her hair out and slowly traced it across Sylvanas's skin. The hair was soft, each brush making Sylvanas's senses focus entirely on that spot. She stroked her palm across the back of Jaina's head.
Smiling, Jaina moved her head so her hair brushed over Sylvanas's breasts and her dark nipples. The faint touch trailed over her chest, and face, and then she took a lock between her fingers and traced Sylvanas's ear with it.
Groaning, Sylvanas dug her nails into Jaina's scalp, turning her head to expose more of her ear to Jaina's teasing.
"Tomorrow," Jaina whispered, lowering her head to kiss Sylvanas's earlobe. "Tomorrow the war begins in earnest. But tonight…" She licked along the shell, then sucked on the tip.
It was like electricity and fire and Sylvanas rasped soundlessly as Jaina continued to lick and suck at her ear. She flicked her tongue inside, her hand moving across a breast and rubbing over the nipple there.
Jaina gave mercy to Sylvanas's ear, moving her mouth to her jaw, her cheek, her eyelids and finally her lips.
Sylvanas loathed the feeling in her chest, this sucking chest-wound that grew and grew with every touch and kiss from Jaina.
Fingers moved between her legs, touching, stroking in circles. Sylvanas knew without asking that Jaina always savored making her wet. She gasped again, and Jaina murmured something against her throat.
"Does it bother you?" Sylvanas said, eyes closed and voice light. "That I am not loud?"
"No." Jaina lifted her head, staring down at Sylvanas, moving her fingers faster, hooking one inside her, and then another.
Sylvanas rolled her hips, squirming, mouth open in wordless pleasure, the only sound a low, quiet groan deep in the back of her throat.
"You don't need to be loud to show me you're enjoying yourself," Jaina said. Her eyes twinkled as she leaned in and brushed her lips against Sylvanas's. "And I make enough noise for the both of us."
Saying nothing, Sylvanas pressed her mouth against Jaina's as a long, slow orgasm was drawn out of her. She settled back into the pillow, opening her eyes as Jaina's face took up her whole vision.
"I love you." Jaina brushed back some of Sylvanas's hair, and that tightness returned to her chest.
She slid her hands up Jaina's hips and waist, and then pulled her up until her thighs were on either side of her face. Sylvanas licked her lips, eyes flaring. "I know."