Hundreds of pyres had been built in front of the gates of Orgrimmar, for the honored dead. In the days and weeks to come, memorials and ceremonies would be held in Stormwind and Kaldrassil, Ironforge and Velen's New Shattrath. But today, today was for the Horde.

Sylvanas was speaking, but Jaina tuned her wife out. She counted the pyres, and wondered if it had all been in vain. N'zoth was dead, but Old Gods never truly died. And Azshara was still out there, now freed from its control. There would be a reckoning some day for the choice she'd made, but as she watched Anduin speak to Minuial, she knew that there'd been no other choice. She only hoped people like Minuial and Tyrande would forgive her.

Anduin pressed his hand to his chest and bowed to Minual, who inclined her head to him. Jaina approached her, picking up a torch. Minuial's eyes reflected a sadness and anger that Jaina knew all too well, a loss that could not be put into words.

They both knew, though, that there could have been no other death for a warrior like Galnir. He'd lived long past the age that many of his kind did. Jaina held the torch out for Minuial, saying quietly, "For the Horde. For Galnir."

"For the Horde," Minuial repeated, her fingers closing around the torch. She held it, the flames casting shadows on her face. "He died as he lived."

A smile flickered on Jaina's face. "He was faster than the Alliance. We should make sure they never live that down."

"It's what he'd want." Jaina mirrored her smile as Minuial lowered the torch to the kindling beneath Galnir's pyre. It caught and began to burn, the fire jumping to the fabric draped over Galnir's form.

A horn blew, and almost as one, other pyres caught flame. The fires built slowly but surely, until there was a sea of flame stretching out in front of Orgrimmar. Jaina was reminded of Hallow's End; the smell of soot and the crackling of fire was familiar. She hoped it would comfort those left behind, both the living and the dead. Newly so and otherwise.

Save for the crackling of the pyres, it was silent. In Kul Tiras, Jaina would have sang. She knew a number of dirges, at least one that would be appropriate. It wouldn't be out of place, in the Horde. A song to send off the honored dead.

But no voices rose up, and Jaina understood that today the dead would sail off on a silent vigil.

Movement drew her attention to Minuial again, her children standing stoically at her side. Jaina could see their father in the set of their jaws and shapes of their faces, their mother in their ears and cheekbones. She fished around in a pocket and quietly removed the doll she kept there.

Silently, Jaina withdrew from the funeral, slipping into an empty area between two boulders. She stared down at the toy, and turned it over and over in her hands.

Then she held one hand above it, fingers splayed out as rivulets of energy dripped from them and into the doll. Twisting her fingers, Jaina started to reshape it, transmute it into another material. The features became a little more life-like, like a sculpture, the arms and legs no longer floppy bits of cloth and thread. As the magic faded, Jaina held up a striking likeness of Galnir.

Alami would need the protection and guidance more than Jaina. She would need her father to watch over her. Jaina couldn't bring Galnir back for his family, but she could at least give his daughter some measure of comfort, something to draw strength from when she couldn't lean on her mother.

Jaina returned to Sylvanas's side and watched Minuial's vigil as Sylvanas took her hand and threaded their fingers together. Though she thought that Alami was already strong, from the way she stood next to Minuial, she also know what it was like to be a daughter without the father she'd loved.

Jaina almost wished she'd had a father like Galnir instead of her own. The toy would help, she decided. After all, even the strongest person needed a little support now and again. It could be like her little boats from so long ago.

This victory, like many before it, had come with a price. Hundreds dead and a stalemate with a powerful force lurking under the surface. To Sylvanas, it barely looked like a victory at all. But there had been one thing that brought her something close to joy: her new Forsaken.

She hadn't expected that. Hadn't expected any of her own people to carry the stone that allowed her Valkyr to raise them into unlife, let alone people from the Alliance. But the fear of death was a strong one, Sylvanas mused.

Regardless of their reasons, they were welcome to stay with the Horde, or rejoin the Alliance; even she knew how bad it would look to force them to remain with her. Jaina would never let her hear the end of it, besides.

Approaching the six, she looked them over, moving from the Kaldorei woman, and the Sin'dorei rogue standing next to her, to the formerly human women with ashy skin.

Twins.

She tilted her head, eyebrows raising in curiosity.

"Where she goes, I follow," the one on the right said, and her sister nodded.

Sylvanas nodded in return. "Tell me then. Do you wish to stay here, with your new people? Or shall you attempt to return to the Alliance? The choice is yours, but once made it cannot be unmade."

She looked up and down the line at the other four. "And that goes for all of you. Choose your loyalties now, while I'm still in a good mood."

The Kaldorei shrugged and walked past Sylvanas, but the others remained.

"We are Forsaken," the woman said, her sister nodding in agreement.

"Welcome to the fold." Sylvanas jerked her head and two of her Dark Rangers materialized at her side. "Tyra is waiting to assign the twins their new home. Take them to her." She turned back to the group. "I suggest you take the opportunity to ask any questions you may have, of my Rangers or Tyra. Integrating yourselves into these new forms will become easier with time, but it does not hurt to ask for help."

She stepped aside, watching as the five were led out of the hold. As they disappeared from view, she heard that same woman ask one of the Rangers 'how come you get elbows?'

Slowly, Sylvanas sat on her throne. She leaned back in it, tapping her fingers along the armrest thoughtfully. She had new Forsaken. Forsaken who'd volunteered for an existence that many found miserable.

Was this what hope felt like?

"I'd make a comment about your throne, but mine is about as bad."

Anduin regarded her with a smile as he strode into the Hold, and Sylvanas shrugged. "I am the last person you wish to get into a dick measuring contest with, King. You would lose."

He coughed. "I've spoken with Lord Admiral Proudmoore as well as Admiral Tattersail. They've recommended a blockade around the borders of Nazjatar."

"How effective could such a blockade be when the enemy can swim right under it?"

"Submersibles," Anduin suggested. "We can task our best minds to a new kind of submarine, one capable of extended duty deep below the ocean. Mekkatorque has also suggested a kind of sensor net, something to alert us if Azshara's forces cross the line."

"Agreed. To both." Even now, days later, she felt as though her bones were fragile and her skin was stretched too thin across her body. Her emotions fluctuated wildly and she was just… tired. She wanted Anduin to leave and there wasn't much she could object to about this idea. "We can assign teams, two from each faction, to monitor this sensor net. The blockade itself should also represent both of us. We can sort out the details later. For now, I must ask you to leave. I am expecting someone that I need to speak to … privately."

Thalyssra's arrival was timed almost too perfectly, and Anduin looked at her, then Sylvanas with a soft 'o' expression on his face. His expression shifted, and Sylvanas knew he was considering what he would need to say to the other half of this equation.

"I'll leave you to it." He nodded at Sylvanas, then turned to walk out. Whatever look he gave Thalyssra Sylvanas couldn't see, but it drew out a subtle half-smile on her face.

Sylvanas quashed down her irritation as she rose from the throne and descended the steps towards Thalyssra. "Tell me something, First Arcanist. What I am supposed to do about this?"

A storm started to brew in Thalyssra's eyes as Sylvanas came to a stop in front of her and looked up, continuing.

"Maneuvers behind my back? Alliances with hostile nations?"

"The idea that the Kaldorei are hostile at this point is laughable," Thalyssra replied. "What I do and whom I do it with are none of your concern."

"You belong to the Horde, first and foremost." Sylvanas started to circle Thalyssra, her voice low and dangerous. "And yet, I should have seen it. Working so closely with Whisperwind. Mutual defense. Trade pacts. What secrets of mine have you shared?"

Thalyssra's voice was even, with no less a dangerous edge to match Sylvanas's. "I have shared nothing that would not already be public knowledge."

Sylvanas gave a mirthless laugh. "Consciously, perhaps; that remains to be seen. But I doubt you're fool enough to believe you can bring an Alliance leader into your bed without compromising our security. Is she suddenly incapable of observation? You keep business and pleasure so separate you never once mentioned a meeting running long, never complained about your own logistics, another Horde leader's stubbornness? That does impress me."

Thalyssra bristled, ears pinned back against her temples. "I have mended wounds that have been open longer than your mother's people have existed. Longer than any human kingdom has stood. Wounds that were, in part, my own making. Wounds that were made worse by your madness during the war!"

That almost gave Sylvanas pause. She tilted her head slightly as she considered it. "A ruse then, to gain an advantage."

"This is no ruse. Nor will I be used to make it one. I am not a spy."

A cold smile. "I never said the advantage would be yours. Poaching the Nightborne would be a tremendous benefit to the Kaldorei. Or did that never occur to you?"

Something inside Thalyssra seemed to snap, and she grabbed Sylvanas by the upper arm, a fierce glint in her eyes. Sylvanas looked at Thalyssra's hand, then to her face, eyes sharp like daggers. "If you value your hand, you will release me, First Arcanist."

Letting go but not looking at all apologetic, Thalyssra lowered her voice further, her arcane filtered eyes narrowing. "Need I remind you, Warchief, that the Horde needs my people more than we need you. Suramar is more than capable of standing alone now."

Thalyssra's words hung in the air for a long, pregnant moment before Sylvanas replied, voice like the ice of Winterspring. "Is that a threat?"

"A warning to stay out of my personal business."

"Much as the thought entertains me, cuckolding Malfurion Stormrage transcends 'personal' business."

A barrier suddenly crackled between the two women, and Sylvanas looked past Thalyssra to see Jaina standing behind her. Jaina lowered her hands, an exasperated look on her face. "Setting aside that being a sentence I never expected to hear in my life, maybe you both should take a step back."

"I am handling this, Consort."

Jaina stepped around Thalyssra, closing her hand gently around Sylvanas's wrist. Sylvanas looked down and saw pulsating dark energy in her hand. She relaxed her fingers, and the energy dissipated. Sylvanas felt, rather than heard, Thalyssra's answering magic fade away.

From the look on Thalyssra's face, she had not realized she'd been powering up either.

Turning to look at Thalyssra, though keeping her hand on Sylvanas, Jaina said, "You have to understand that hiding this puts us in an almost impossible position."

"We are not unaware of the implications," Thalyssra's expression remained calm, but that pride that prevented her from backing down or even just admitting fault kept a bite to her voice. "That is why we chose to err on the side of discretion. We realize it is a...delicate situation. Not the kind of...thing...best introduced to the public in the midst of war." She gestured at the two of them. "You can't tell me you preferred all the scrutiny."

What galled Sylvanas most was that Thalyssra almost had a point. As much as she enjoyed teasing Jaina in public, there were certain aspects of their relationship she preferred to keep private. "There's a difference between an open political union turning personal, and having Tyrande Whisperwind's face buried between your thighs. You intentionally deceived me, and it worked. Having your little liaison revealed by Azshara made us all look like fools."

Jaina's other hand moved up Sylvanas's back, rubbing in small circles as though she were trying to soothe her.

"If we'd had more time," she pointed out, "we could have prepared a unified strategy for how the Horde would respond when this became public. The secrecy damaged our ability to support you. There are already doubts being raised about your loyalties."

Energy crackled between Thalyssra's fingers before she caught herself. She seemed to calm herself over a few seconds before speaking. "That would be foolish. I've no intention of leaving the Horde."

Sylvanas shot her a sharp look. "And if your intentions change?"

"That depends entirely on you."

"Are you going to pursue this relationship?" Jaina asked.

"Are you expecting me to ask permission?"

"That horse has left the stable," Sylvanas snapped.

Thalyssra shook her head, turning on her heel. But she threw one last dig over her shoulder before she left, "We have you to thank, Warchief. Without the compact, we might never have allowed ourselves to mend that bridge."

A near silent form dropped in behind Sylvanas and Jaina. Nathanos's voice was soothing, like a balm, and combined with Jaina's hand on her back calmed her further. "Shall I arrange a little accident, Warchief? We could blame the Alliance."

Sylvanas could literally hear the glare on Jaina's face. "You mean like how all the doors to Gallywix's Palace were mysteriously left unlocked the day Quinzel stormed it?"

"Precisely."

"Somehow, I think the sudden and mysterious death of the First Arcanist would look suspicious," Jaina said. "I'm so glad to see we're all handling this like adults."

"Pity."

Sylvanas lifted her head. "I'll task one of my Rangers to keep tabs on her. In the meantime…" She slipped her arm through Jaina's. "My wife needs rest."

"I'll rest," Jaina said. "But only because you need it too. Besides, I have this great idea for a double-date."

Anduin's migraine was strong enough to power the Vindicaar. He leaned against the table in the empty dining room, rubbing two fingers against his temple as he considered what he should say. What he needed to say.

The prospect of talking to Tyrande about her indiscretions felt vaguely like scolding his mother, if his mother was an ethereal immortal warrior queen.

Yukale had been no help. Somehow she'd gotten wind of what he was going to ask her and activated some kind of device that whisked her away through a hole in space before he got the chance. Anduin thought he'd caught a glimpse of the Argent Tournament grounds before the hole had closed.

Apparently Icecrown was better than facing Tyrande. He couldn't really disagree, though he didn't think it had been necessary to maintain eye contact the entire time.

It wasn't that Anduin was particularly afraid of Tyrande, but he didn't always know if she respected him, and having someone capable of taking a harder line or at least being a meatshield might give him an edge. But it would have to be someone who was a peer to Tyrande, or at least had her respect like certain Champions did.

He wasn't about to ask Genn, and Velen was otherwise occupied. If he spoke to Moira she'd start making Darkfaire Popcorn.

No, he'd have to have this discussion with Tyrande alone, which if he was honest with himself was the right thing to do anyway. Out loud and to himself, he murmured. "If I had a prince consort I could at least play good cop bad cop."

There came a knock at the double doors that led to the rest of the keep, and then Tyrande pushed them open. She gave him a considering look, before closing the door behind her.

"Interesting choice of locale."

"I didn't think you wanted to have this discussion where prying eyes and ears might bear witness," Anduin pointed out. He gestured to the wine bar. "Drink?"

Tyrande shook her head, crossing the distance between them in a few large strides. Gods, but she was always so intimidating up close. Beautiful too, in an aesthetically pleasing way. He craned his neck to look up at her and half-considered getting up on a chair.

"I'm not going to judge your romantic and sexual choices, Tyrande. And if you were almost anyone else or she were almost anyone else it wouldn't even matter. But was a little bit of warning too much to ask?" He clasped his hands behind his back. "To know that one of my most respected allies was becoming entangled with the leader of a Horde faction? The rumors are already swirling and the political implications are mind-boggling."

"There was nothing to bring up, until there was something happening," Tyrande said, her voice even and expression calm. "And by then there were other concerns."

Anduin hadn't been sure what he'd been expecting. Anger, maybe. But despite the calm demeanor he knew if he said the wrong thing he'd get that anger he'd worried about. "I get that. But how did Sylvanas and I not find out about this before Azshara?"

The darkness of Tyrande's eyes swirled as she answered, "A lucky guess."

"So you'd have just kept us in the dark." Anduin stepped away, needing that drink himself now. "What about Malfurion? This affects him too. Does he know? Do you have some kind of … arrangement?"

Tyrande followed him, moving only her head as he walked, though she seemed to stifle a snort at his words. Slowly, she turned to face him, lifting her arms and folding them across her stomach. "While many of my people indeed practice polyamory, that is not an issue here. Malfurion and I have already… separated. The First Arcanist played only a very minor role in that decision."

The bottle slipped from Anduin's hand and he caught it before it could shatter on the floor. Straightening, he blurted out, "And you were going to tell the rest of us when?"

Irritation flashed across Tyrande's face, and Anduin felt the same emotions one typically experienced when a snake rattled its tail in warning. "It is a deeply personal matter, Anduin."

"Not for you! Not for any of us in leadership." He put the bottle down, crossing some of the space he'd put between them. "I'm not trying to offend you, but people like us don't get to have these matters just be personal ones. The Archdruid and High Priestess of the Kaldorei have split. The High Priestess is involved with the First Arcanist of the Shal'dorei. Could you imagine the uproar if someone revealed I was sleeping with Baine or Lor'themar?"

Tyrande raised both eyebrows. "Baine would surprise no one." She hesitated. "... Are you not?"

Anduin opened his mouth and closed it a few times before he continued. "We-no! No, we are not! Tyrande, you're an experienced leader, you've guided your people for millennia..."

He shrugged, helplessly. She would be angry in his place, he knew that she would be, but he also knew he'd said the wrong thing as her eyes narrowed.

"How gracious of you to acknowledge my experience, your majesty. I appreciate this lecture."

The pride of the elves would be his downfall, he thought. "You know what I mean. This was a political misstep with gods know what consequences. You can at least admit that much."

Tyrande seemed inclined to remain silent, and Anduin sighed. Before the silence could become too awkward, he offered, "If you want to talk… as a friend, not as the Alliance, my door is always open."

She inclined her head, turning and walking to the door. Anduin didn't know what possessed him, but he asked. "Is this love, or something else? You hated her, when the dome first came down."

"Yes." Tyrande stopped at the door, running her fingers down the frame. "But is that so surprising that hate can so easily turn to love when one gets to know the other?" She looked at him over her shoulder. "After all, love and hate are two of the strongest emotions there are, and they exist as opposite sides of the same coin."

Anduin nodded, saying nothing, but in his mind he saw Jaina's face and wondered what other surprises lay in store for him.