"I don't understand," Jaina said, the full scope of the fleet arrayed against Durotar weighing down her shoulders and making her feel all the years of the compact. Deja vu made her dizzy, the sound of long sunken ships' bells ringing in her ears. "What are they thinking?"
"This act of aggress-"
"Shut up," Jaina snapped, energy crackling around her hand as she turned towards Nathanos. She took a breath, then a second, and said. "High Priestess-"
"Send me to Stormwind."
"Yes." Jaina called up the portal, one eye now on Sylvanas. The Warchief hadn't turned away from the sight of the fleet, making no move. "And take Valeera with you. I know she's here." Jaina had absolutely no idea that was true, actually-her detection and anti-invisibility spells were good, but Valeera Sanguinar was very good. After a moment, however, the sin'dorei reluctantly stepped out from behind a spire.
"Jaina-" she began.
"Please don't make this personal." An Alliance assassin-Valeera could protest her independence all she liked, her devotion to Anduin was too deep to make her anything but a de facto Stormwind asset-had no place in Orgrimmar right now. Jaina didn't think Valeera would strike at her, not willingly; but Sylvanas? Thalyssra? If the situation grew desperate enough... "Leave now and we'll pretend this conversation never happened."
Valeera looked pained, but stepped through the portal without another protest. But before Tyrande could follow her, Sylvanas spoke, voice cold and even. "Tell the boy he has one hour. Less, if they fire on us."
Something flashed in Tyrande's dark eyes; but she simply nodded once and was gone. Jaina closed the portal, her shoulders tight, her chest tight, her stomach roiling. Thalyssra stared into the space where the portal had been, then called up her own. "I will retrieve Baine and the other leaders, and direct my mages to bring as many troops as possible to Durotar."
Hearing her own voice as if it were someone else's, Jaina said, "Warn Talanji first. If there are Alliance ships in Zuldazar, she needs time to expel them safely before chaos starts."
As the First Arcanist departed, Sylvanas gave a signal and a messenger ran for Orgrimmar. In just a few minutes, defenses would be called up, civilians rushed to shelters and warriors brought the mile or so to the shore. Gunships were probably already on the way.
The bulk of the Horde fleet was too far away and too thinly spread besides to be much use, but Jaina knew that what ships could respond would receive messages and move in to block the Kul Tiran fleet from behind.
Jaina also knew that would be a suicide mission with the might of the Zandalari Navy too far away to come in time.
A flare shot up from the lead ship, and Sylvanas tilted her head. "I think they wish to talk."
"We need to buy time for Stormwind's response," Jaina said.
There were only really three responses; side with the Horde, side with Kul Tiras, or remain out of it, which was the same thing as siding against Kul Tiras but Sylvanas might not actually see it that way.
What scared Jaina was she wasn't sure which option Anduin would take.
"The guns on those lead ships can hit Orgrimmar even from there," Nathanos growled. His eyes slid towards Jaina, triumph within their ruby depths, hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "If they fire on us, Proudmoore will be the first casualty, dead long before their marines land on our shores."
"If they fire on us," Jaina said, even voice hiding the tumult of her emotions, the heartbreak that tore at her. "I will stand and fight for Orgrimmar. Die for Orgrimmar if I must. But it will not be your blade that cuts me down."
"The Compact clearly states-"
"Enough." Sylvanas grabbed them both by the shoulders and pulled them apart. "We parlay. We buy your time, consort. Perhaps, you might even talk our way out of war. But in an hour, you will have a choice to make."
Sylvanas met Jaina's eyes. Red like blood, her eyes swirled with unspoken feeling. "Fight for me, or submit your throat to my blade."
Sylvanas Windrunner did not beg, but her eyes, her eyes almost seemed to be suggesting a third option; run. Jaina knew she could flee to Stormwind, break the pact but spare her own life and Sylvanas did not beg and yet...
Jaina resisted the urge to touch her neck with her fingers. Whether she fought or fled the Compact would be rendered moot by her betrayal. Taking up arms against the Alliance would prove their threat of using her as a weapon was toothless; if she stayed in Orgrimmar but could not bring herself to stand against Kul Tiras and Sylvanas did not claim her life, the Horde's position would never recover. Sylvanas would never be trusted again, if she so blatantly advertised her weakness.
If Jaina ever wanted to stand alive on Horde ground again, she would have to choose them over the Alliance forever. This was an impossible task, an impossible decision and yet it felt inevitable. No.
No, that was wrong.
Alliance people visited Orgrimmar, they lived there now. Orcs had homes in Stormwind, interacted with nobles and peasants alike. Jaina had attended a wedding between a surly Orc shaman and a Stormwind noblewoman only a few weeks ago. Nightborne and Kaldorei picniced and loved each other.
No, she would no sooner run than submit to a blade. Not this time. Not again. Anger welled up inside her, outrage and fury and a bitter tearing in her chest that set her heart aflame as she watched a rowboat approach. As she locked eyes with her mother.
Anduin leaned on the table as he looked at the hastily convened war council. It was a miracle most of the Alliance leadership was even in the city today.
He still couldn't believe his ears, and he looked around the table, at Genn and Tyrande and Velen, Moira and Mekkatorque. "Last I knew, Kul Tiras was going through a shipbuilding boom. Mercantile vessels. A new class of exploration vessel. Not warships."
"These were not trade ships converted for war," Tyrande said. "They clouded the horizon, and each was a warship."
"So the Lord Admiral lied to us." Moira tapped her finger on the map of Durotar that had haphazardly been opened on the table. "Question is why. What's the point o'doin' this? Bringin' us into a war we thought was in the past."
"She must believe there's some kind of threat from the Horde."
"No, Genn." Anduin shook his head. "She believes there's a threat to Jaina."
"Regardless of her reasons, we can't just sit here and let her fight this war alone." Genn had always pushed for a harder line with the Horde. Had he been right all along? Was everything wishful thinking?
Anduin sighed. "Let's think through this logically. Kul Tiras is part of the Alliance. As part of the Alliance, we're honor-bound to support them."
"What about the compact?" Velen placed his hand on Anduin's shoulder. "If we support Kul Tiras, the compact breaks."
"Yes, there is that." The consequences would be...disastrous was too small a word. Cataclysmic. Unified military forces, garrisons and outposts. Stromgarde. It would be friend against friend, neighbor against neighbor. Even rifts in families at this point. The Horde and Alliance at arms again might well be little different from a civil war.
"If we don't support Kul Tiras," Genn countered. "Then the Alliance is not worth the blood we've all spilled for it! This is our time, Anduin. We can strike while Windrunner is busy in Orgrimmar. We can retake Darkshore-"
"No!" Tyrande straightened to her full height, midnight eyes focusing on Genn like a nightsaber on prey. "I stood by when I could not take vengeance for my people. I stood by as Malfurion and I grew distant and our love withered and died. I will not allow this peace I sacrificed so much for to be lost because Katherine Proudmoore wishes to choose the same path as her husband. Where, pray tell, was she when Jaina actually needed her most, after Theramore?"
Genn's voice was low, a dangerous growl making Anduin's heart speed up. "Considering you're sleeping with the enemy, you may want to remember which side you're supposed to be on."
As Tyrande's ears pinned back in wild fury, Anduin tried to head off the storm. "Is it possible she knows something we don't?"
Genn snarled, "If she's right about Jaina…"
"In the unlikely event that this is true," Tyrande said coldly, "Then so be it. You will not demand that my people forgive Teldrassil only to throw that sacrifice away for a single woman! You will not value the lives of all those butchered in Ashenvale so cheaply. This peace was bought at the price of every lost soul that will never be avenged, and I will not stand by and watch it shattered by a fool's arrogant bloodlust! There is no decision to be made! A unilateral strike by a rogue faction. Peace may yet be maintained if the Lord Admiral is repudiated."
It what might be the understatement of the century, this was bad. Watching Tyrande and Genn fight was a little like watching one's parents on the verge of divorce. Anduin wondered where this anger of Genn's had come from. Not that long ago it had seemed like he was starting to believe in the compact, and the peace. And yet, here he was. Here they were on the edge of the precipice.
Anduin started to lift his hands, when Tyrande issued her ultimatum.
"My people will not be bound where our lives are worth so little. If the Alliance strikes the Horde, the Kaldorei leave. Kaldrassil will stand alone."
Ice. Ice in his veins, ice in his heart, a thrumming sound rushing through his head. Anduin glanced at Velen, and he knew.
He knew what would happen then. Velen, his mentor and his friend, would follow Tyrande, their people that close. And the Worgen… the Worgen would be torn in half, between those who'd come to see the Kaldorei as kindred and those too loyal to Greymane to leave. And that alone would be a heartbreak, with how bound to the Kaldorei Gilneas now was.
The lines drew themselves as each leader shifted closer to one, or away from another. Their equal status had made them strong for so long that Anduin had forgotten that what made them strong could also divide them. Anyone could walk away from the Alliance at any time, for any reason. And as all eyes fell on him, Anduin felt as though he were falling off that precipice.
A part of him wondered if this had been Sylvanas's plan all along.
"Not exactly what I think anyone had in mind for game night," Sylvanas remarked, voice low for Jaina's ear as she watched Katherine Proudmoore step onto the dock. She did not need to reach out to restrain Jaina; Jaina seemed to pick up on her thoughts and visibly calmed herself. Not for the first time Sylvanas wondered if there'd been a lingering, permanent effect from the possession.
"Mother," Jaina said, her voice even despite the turmoil Sylvanas could sense. "If you were going to visit you could have asked for a portal."
Katherine looked Jaina over, scrutinizing her, her eyes darting over her clothing, to her neck and wrists, and then finally her face. "We've come to take you home, Jaina."
Sylvanas bristled at that. Jaina was home. She locked her eyes onto Katherine, but held her tongue. This was Jaina's fight to have, even if she did want to rip her mother's heart out and feed it to the sea.
"I was planning a visit, but I'll go in my own time." Jaina clasped her hands behind her back, affecting a casual air, but Sylvanas could see her nails digging into her palms. "Let's cut the bullshit, mother. You've brought an invasion force to Durotar in violation of the Compact and a half-dozen other treaties, but I already know you'll tell me you're acting independently of Stormwind and I know Anduin well enough to believe that."
"The fleet is only here to ensure the Warchief's cooperation," Katherine said. Her face was inscrutable, but there was a desperate sort of fire in her eyes.
It was the kind of look that told Sylvanas if anyone said the wrong thing, the situation would go south immediately. "Cooperation at gunpoint is hardly cooperation, Lord Admiral."
"Something you know well." Katherine's eyes slid from Sylvanas back to Jaina, and her voice was gentle. "It's all right Jaina. I know. I know what she's been putting you through, and it's going to end today."
The smell of blood reached Sylvanas's nostrils at the same time Jaina's heartbeat quickened; her nails had broken through the skin of her palms. Weary and on the verge of losing her temper, Sylvanas asked. "What, pray tell, the fuck, are you talking about?"
"You sent her clothing back. Even that kind of simple comfort-you took away her dignity and her choices and dressed her up like a Sin'dorei whore. I know about healers called in the dead of night when you're angry with her, about how often you take Jaina into your so-called 'sanctuary' alone, where none can see."
"If you think for one minute I would let-"
"You would suffer any indignity and any pain if it meant ensuring the peace lasts, Jaina."
Jaina's jaw clenched, but she didn't have an easy retort for that one. It was, even Sylvanas knew, the truth. She slowly unclenched her hands. "I chose that dress, mother. I worked with a local tailor on the rest of my clothing. I like my wardrobe. I wasn't ordered to return anything; it was summer in Durotar by then, Kul Tiran clothes were giving me heatstroke just looking at them! And we retreat to the sanctuary like we do to have a few minutes of privacy."
"If it makes you feel better, I was as injured as Jaina after our little sparring accident. The healer was for both of us."
From the look on the Lord Admiral's face, that didn't make her feel better. "And you expect me to believe that monstrosity of a ship was the brainchild of both of you as well, I imagine."
If Sylvanas had held any less of the moral high ground-an unfamiliar sensation that she intended to enjoy while she had the chance-she might have winced. As it was, she simply glared as Jaina pinched her nose. "Shadow herself was a fiasco, and no, at the time I didn't have clearance for top-level experimental military secrets, on account of being a political hostage. But she was a legitimate exercise in arcane shipbuilding. Not that any of that is the point, by the way, can we get back to-"
"Its sisters, I might remind you, provided the entirety of the first-wave subsurface blockade of Nazjatar," Sylvanas pointed out. "If you believe its corruption by Old Gods should fall at my feet, Lord Admiral, you might consider reinforcing the glass in your own home before you fling any more stones."
They might have saved their breath; Katherine Proudmoore barely seemed to hear them. "You think you know what's happening, but you don't. The banshee has corrupted your mind. You're not yourself."
"I'm more myself than I've ever been. I'm happy here. I need you to accept that."
"I don't believe that, Jaina."
The temperature of the air dropped, and Sylvanas' ears shrank back against her skull reflexively before she controlled herself. Jaina's voice was nearly a growl. "Don't you? I'm the infamous traitor, remember? The orc-lover who chose the Horde over her own father? You never had a problem believing it before." Her voice broke in something like despair. "I'm tired, mother. Would it make you happier if I was miserable? Is that what you want to hear?"
Katherine frowned. "Can you really tell me, with a straight face and honesty, that you love this monster?"
"Like attracts like," Jaina said quietly. "And yes, I do."
"Something tells me you aren't going to believe that either. I suggest you return to your little boat, Lord Admiral." Sylvanas waved her hand in a shooing motion. "If you turn that fleet around I'll only raise a little hell with the High King."
"Jaina, I've failed to protect you in the past, I know that. I cannot make that up to you. But this time-"
"I don't want your protection!" Arcane energy crackled at Jaina's fingertips. "I never needed you to protect me! I needed you to listen to me! All I wanted, all I ever wanted was for you to, for once, mother, trust my judgement!"
Katherine shook her head. "Does Koltira Deathweaver ring a bell to you?"
"This is the thanks I get for saving your city?" Sylvanas asked, though her eyes slid towards Jaina.
"You think I'm brainwashed?"
Oh, Katherine had clearly not been expecting Jaina to recognize the name, though Sylvanas had all but forgotten about that. But Koltira, like many other secrets, had been exposed when she'd shared her mind and her past with Jaina. "You know?"
Jaina just drew herself up. "The past is in the past. Go back to your ship, this parlay is over."
"Jaina-"
With hands that shook almost imperceptibly, Jaina reached up and snapped the chain holding her anchor pendant. She threw it at her mother. "Go!"
Sylvanas openly stared at her wife, even as Katherine backed away and then stumbled into the skiff.
Slowly, Jaina turned towards Sylvanas, tears streaking down her cheeks as her eyes glowed with arcane light.
Behind them, Orgrimmar's magical barrier snapped into place, as the sea in the harbor began to bubble and rise, forming an additional barrier of a wall of water.
Jaina left an opening for her mother, letting it close once she'd passed through.
The only sound Sylvanas could hear over the breaking of Jaina's heart was the wall of water. "I never once considered that with you." She hesitated. "I won't pretend that was out of nobility."
"I think we both know what the world would look like if you had tried." Jaina sighed, eyes still locked on the form of her departing mother.
Sylvanas inclined her head in silent agreement. Jaina stepped closer, her nerves fraying and her emotions bubbling over. She leaned against Sylvanas and Sylvanas slowly slid her arms around her.
"For the Horde," Jaina whispered.