Anduin and Sylvanas had left with a laundry list of terms to discuss with their respective leadership, and an agreement to meet formally in Dalaran. So many of the Horde and Alliance leadership in one city...it set Jaina's teeth on edge.

Jaina's ship and Windwhistle had returned to Stormwind, and Anduin had once again called together the leadership of the Alliance. After hours in the war room, the only thing they'd all agreed on was that while they couldn't trust the Warchief, they couldn't keep the war going, either. Even Genn had conceded that fact, something which grated on her.

So here they were, to discuss some kind of alliance with the Horde, by means of marriage. And the worst part of it was that Jaina could actually see the benefits to it. For all her anger at the Horde, so much blood had been spilled that even Jaina was sick of it. Perhaps she always had been and it had just been buried beneath the rage and heartbreak.

Dalaran was nothing like the city Jaina remembered from her childhood and the time before the Third War. Like herself, war and time had changed it into something almost unrecognizable. Old scars had been covered up, and the thrum of magic filled her senses.

She could hear the gossip as she walked towards the citadel.

One woman, a Draenei death knight, walked past, speaking to her companion in a deadpan voice. "I should volunteer. I'm dead. Sylvanas is dead. We're a match made in heaven."

If heaven was a frozen hellish pit of scourge and destruction, Jaina thought. She fought the shudder that ran down her spine.

The entrance to the citadel was flanked by Champions from both sides. Jaina recognized most of them. She even gave the Horde a curt nod as she passed.

Jaina did have to play nice.

The Council of Six had set aside a conference room for the discussion and reinforced it with dozens of magical wards, some of which Jaina herself had invented. Even knowing the intricate details of some of them, they would prove challenging for her to bypass without a brute-force display of power. There were few enough people on Azeroth with the raw power to break them besides herself. Kalec probably. Khadgar…

Neither her ex nor the older Archmage was present, and she didn't know how she felt about that. Perhaps Khadgar really had left them to destroy themselves. She felt an ache underneath the anger.

There was a seat at each end of the long table, one with the sigil of the Forsaken and the other of Stormwind. There were chairs for Orgrimmar, Thunder Bluff, Silvermoon, Suramar, and all the nations of the Alliance, as well.

Anduin was already seated, flanked by Genn and Tyrande. She spied Velen nearby, speaking in a low voice with Moira Thaurissan and Muradin Bronzebeard. She assumed Falstad Wildhammer was nearby, the final part of the Council of Three Hammers. Mekkatorque was in his chair.

At the opposite end of the room and table, the leaders of the Horde took up similar positions. Only Gallywix was seated.

Alleria was leaning against another wall, her sister Vereesa next to her. For the first time since she'd come back to Dalaran, Jaina relaxed. Smiling, she approached them and gave Vereesa a hug. "Why do I feel like this isn't going to go the way anyone has planned?"

"This is the first time since the early days of the Legion War that we've all been in one place," Vereesa said. "We almost had a stabbing that time."

Leaving her arm around Vereesa, Jaina shook her head, "With the wards here, the best we can expect would be fisticuffs."

Her eyes scanned the room. Sylvanas was leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded. Her eyes were directed at them and Jaina shrugged off a feeling of foreboding. Of course she'd be staring at her sisters. Not knowing why, Jaina squeezed her arm around Vereesa. "So what's the talk around the city?"

"Speculation about the nature of the talks. Somehow word that a political marriage was a topic of discussion leaked. Some people are saying it's basically going to be like taking a hostage."

Frowning, Jaina couldn't disagree with that. She looked around the room again, wondering if anyone here had Sylvanas's eye as her best candidate. Anduin was out, Jaina would never allow that. Genn was a possibility, though both him and Sylvanas would sooner kill themselves than spend more than a minute alone in a room together. They'd probably just kill each other. Maybe that would be for the best.

"There's a betting pool," Alleria said. She'd kept her eyes on her sister the entire time. "I heard one of the champions talking about it."

Against her better judgement, Jaina asked. "Who are the popular picks?"

"Shandris Feathermoon. Anduin." Her eyes flicked to Jaina. "You."

Vereesa laughed. "My money is on Feathermoon. Anduin will never happen, there'd be a succession crisis if he left Stormwind. And I think Jaina would sooner kiss a Dreadlord."

Damn right, Jaina thought, as Vereesa smiled at her.

The room fell silent as someone entered. Thrall. Go'el. Jaina felt something inside of her seize up, and she let go of Vereesa to fold her arms over her chest. She'd almost forgotten he'd been chosen to act as mediatery. A cruel, broken part of her thought he didn't deserve that honor. So much of what had happened since he'd stepped down as Warchief could be laid at his feet for his poor judgement.

Another part of her, the softer part that still yearned for simpler times, reminded her that he would be the first to agree with her.

Sylvanas didn't sit, instead leaning on the back of the chair and staring down Anduin as Go'el took a seat in the center.

He looked at Anduin and then Sylvanas. "Let us begin."

The marriage idea didn't come up immediately. Borders, first. Resources. Farmland. Fishing rights. Who was willing to give up what in exchange for something else. Tyrande would not budge on Ashenvale, though the Horde didn't push too hard on that point. Sylvanas insisted she reclaim the Undercity and Genn had to be physically restrained by Tess, his bellow at Sylvanas's nerve echoing around the chamber.

And then Gallywix offered the goblin-devastated land of Azshara to the highest bidder.

"What of the Blight?" Genn snarled. "As long as that exists, there can be no peace."

Sylvanas's almost immediate response took Jaina by surprise. It was as though Sylvanas had been ready for that all along. "I'll destroy the Blight, if you dismantle the Vindicaar."

That devolved into tense shouting, until Velen held his hands out and offered to dismantle the Vindicaar's main weapon and split the pieces between the various members of both the Horde and Alliance. Time was then spent discussing weapon reduction efforts and how the Horde and Alliance might observe the others' process.

Jaina's hands remained clenched as Go'el tried to navigate the situation. There were actually some good ideas but it wasn't clear to her how any of this would work long term, and that hardened part of her balked at the compromises. On most things, she didn't bother to offer input. Kul Tiras's fleet was in shambles, the nation still recovering from wars fought both within and without. They were in a poor position to dictate anything to other Alliance factions, let alone the Horde. It wounded her pride to think of that.

Yet, eventually, her own voice rang out. "None of this will work. In another few years we'll all be trying to kill each other again. The Horde will come up with something worse than the Blight, and the Alliance will discover something to counter it. There needs to be a failsafe."

All eyes turned to her, and the corners of Sylvanas's lips twitched. In a voice like honey, she said, "I was just about to get to that, my dear."

Jaina held Sylvanas's gaze. "Then get to it."

Leaning her hip against the table, Sylvanas returned her attention to the Alliance side. "As I mentioned to the cub, I propose a union. One that would ensure that if the Alliance were to move against the Horde, there would be consequences. At the same time, were the Horde to move against the Alliance, there would be consequences as well. As long as this union is secure, we would all find it best to sit down for a chat, before we get swords and spells involved."

Someone barked out a laugh. Alleria.

"A marriage of convenience," Anduin said, giving Alleria a silencing look.

Genn emitted a low growl. "A hostage."

Thank you, Genn.

"Both," Jaina said out loud, and Sylvanas turned her head and favored her with a sly smile.

Clearing her throat, Tyrande interjected. "But how does your hostage ensure that you will not move against the Alliance?"

Sylvanas was silent for a moment, choosing her words carefully or perhaps just for dramatic weight.

"Because, if we break our word, she can destroy Orgrimmar in an instant."

"No!" Jaina snapped, barely giving Sylvanas the chance to finish her sentence. She stared at her with wide eyed anger, a vein popping in her forehead. "That's not an option!"

The eyes of everyone in the conference room fell on Jaina and it was so silent after her outburst that she could hear a pin drop. From where she stood, she couldn't see the reactions of Sylvanas's sisters, though she could feel rage simmering in both of them without needing to look. Like most of the participants, Anduin looked shocked. Tyrande looked unsurprised; with the power of hindsight Jaina realized she shouldn't have been surprised either. Mostly, she was glad her mother was not present.

Her nostrils flared as she exhaled, and she took a few calming breaths as Sylvanas straightened and approached her with purpose. She looked at the Warchief, magic crackling along her skin as she contained her temper. Someone shifted to her left-Vereesa. Shadows writhed under Alleria's skin, and Jaina held her arms as if to hold them both back. All eyes were on her, and she refused to show weakness by allowing anyone to back her up.

Sylvanas noticed the energy, ignoring her sisters and tilting her head as she gave Jaina another one of those smiles. "You could kill us all, Lady Proudmoore, and send Dalaran crashing to the ground below. You would not even need a Focusing Iris to do it. Imagine, if you will. I order an attack on Ironforge. You could stand upon the center outcropping and reduce Orgrimmar to rubble. And yet…"

She was close, too close now, but Jaina didn't dare flinch away as Sylvanas continued. "Say the Alliance sinks my ships, and I find their reasonings suspect. I could snuff you out. What would that do to your vaunted alliance unity? All those tangled webs you've woven since you founded Theramore?"

Eyes narrowing, Jaina leaned forward, almost playing chicken with Sylvanas. She spelled it out for the entire room. "I would be your hostage. And Orgrimmar, or any other Horde City I choose, would be my hostage."

Jaina dropped her arms to her sides, almost conceding defeat. It was a good plan and she hated that it was a good plan.

"Clever girl." Sylvanas slipped something into the palm of Jaina's hand, and stepped away. Jaina closed her fist around it, watching as Sylvanas approached the table and leaned on it, her silvery-white hair falling over her shoulders.

Anduin looked like he was wondering why anyone but Jaina and Sylvanas even needed to be here. Jaina couldn't blame him. Sylvanas had played this masterfully, even if she was giving up more than she probably wanted to in the process.

Opening her fist, Jaina looked down at what Sylvanas had given her. It was a ring, elvish make though she could sense no power within it. Deciding that it would be a problem for future-her to puzzle through, Jaina slipped it into one of her pouches and approached the table, her anger cooling. "Considering the alternatives, I accept, on condition that I have approval on every page of this damned agreement."

"Jaina, you don't have to do this," Anduin said. Murmurs of agreement came from other leaders of the Alliance, as well as Baine. Jaina glanced at the Tauren, appreciating that. Go'el rested his hands on the table in front of him, watching her. There was sadness in his eyes.

She stared him down, stubborn enough to go through with this on that count alone. Spite could be a good motivator but her chest ached anyway.

"This is not a good war," Baine said, interrupting the silence. "And it hasn't been for a long time. We need this peace, all of us. But is it what you want? It wouldn't be right, to do this under duress. And to be frank, having you living in Orgrimmar is an unpleasant thought."

It would be under duress no matter who it was. Jaina folded her arms, considering. Damn Sylvanas. Who was the clever girl again? "The Alliance will be without me as a weapon, and I'll be where Sylvanas can keep an eye on me."

"Jaina is the leader of Kul Tiras," Genn said, rage thinly veiled in his eyes and making his voice tight. Anduin must have convinced him of the necessity of doing something or else he would not be here. "What about Tandred instead?"

Sylvanas scoffed. "That would be like offering up Vereesa in my stead. There is no leverage in holding the spare."

Alleria grabbed Vereesa's arm, though her other hand went to a bow that wasn't there.

There was a very real chance of violence and Jaina found herself in the unexpected position of having to stop it. She weighed the odds of quickly decapitating the Horde then and there. Jaina would have to strike either Sylvanas, or the rest of the Horde, leaving her vulnerable to whichever she didn't attack. If she did eliminate the rest of the Horde, that left Sylvanas as uncontested ruler. Not that she wasn't already for the most part. And she liked Baine, and even Thalyssra.

Eliminating Sylvanas would be the best bet then, but there was a high likelihood she'd get a spear in the back and no guarantee she'd kill Sylvanas to make the sacrifice worth it.

Fine, she could be an adult. "Thank you, Baine. But I'm the only one who can. The Proudmoore line can continue through my brother and niece. Tandred and his husband will make fine rulers in my stead and my mother has run the country for years without my help."

She took a deep breath, the realization hitting hard.

"I'm… not needed."

Saying that hurt; and she knew on some level that if she hadn't said it, Sylvanas would have.

Jaina swept her gaze across her friends, then leveled it onto Sylvanas. "Under no circumstances will I be used as a weapon against the Alliance. Or any innocent people."

Sylvanas gestured Jaina toward what was supposed to be the Kul Tiras seat. She waited until Jaina had sat, then turned to Go'el. "Now. Where were we?"

"Warchief," Lor'themar said, his hands clasped behind his back. "What is the strategic value in holding hostage a woman who can simply teleport at will?"

"I have already written up terms governing that." Sylvanas gestured to some of the papers she'd brought with her. "But to summarize; if Jaina were to leave Horde territory outside of prearranged visits, it would place her people in jeopardy."

"Elaborate," Jaina ordered through her teeth.

Sylvanas spoke with the same tone one would use for discussing the plan for dinner. "I would give her some time to reconsider, of course. In case there is an … extenuating circumstance. I feel generous, so twenty minutes. If twenty minutes pass and she does not return or contact myself or Baine to explain, then the full fury of the Horde will be unleashed upon the Alliance and the war would resume."

"Twenty minutes is more than enough time for her to pass intelligence to the Alliance." Lor'themar wasn't keen on letting this go.

"Under normal circumstances, or those prearranged visits," Sylvanas replied, eyes on Lor'themar's. "She would have an escort."

"She's powerful enough that normal wards do nothing to prevent her teleporting out. Or teleporting others in. If she leaves, we should strike."

Jaina dug her nails into her palms, having the distinct impression this was a scripted conversation. "And my word is not enough?"

Lor'themar shook his head. "No."

"I will need time alone on occasion. When that happens, I assure you I'll remain within Horde territory," Jaina said. A quick visit to Baine or getting some air in Azshara, anything to escape Orgrimmar and Sylvanas for a few hours. Because otherwise she'd be trapped, and she didn't know how she'd survive that long term.

Sylvanas waved her hand. "Thirty seconds. Thirty seconds to return or explain yourself. Otherwise, if you are to teleport at all outside the range of Orgrimmar, you must inform any of the Horde leaders present, or any number of those I will provide the names for later."

That was no time at all. "And if someone were to take me against my will and prevent me from communicating?"

"Then you should hope that does not happen. Though if someone were able to take you unwillingly, we would all be in trouble."

Nothing would be settled until the bureaucrats had gone through every word with a fine-toothed comb, and Anduin felt like there were needles in his eyes. This wasn't the kind of peace he'd expected, and it went far beyond trading lands and changing borders. As long as Jaina remained safe and with the Horde, the nations of both factions could function as a loose confederation. No restrictions on trade, Kaldorei as sovereign as the Tauren, even if both ultimately reported to the Alliance and Horde respectfully.

Baine was arguing some fine point with Gallywix and Mekkatorque and Anduin suppressed a yawn, leaning back and rubbing at a sore spot on his back. He looked at Sylvanas, and Jaina, who were eyeing each other warily. Maybe they were having second thoughts. There was still time; nothing had been signed yet.

Another thought had been niggling at the back of his mind and now that he had a moment to reflect on it, he wondered how to possibly bring it up. But it was something that, well, should be brought up.

(Un)Luckily for him, Gallywix spoke first. "So how are ya gonna handle, ya know...consummating the marriage?"

Jaina choked on her water and started coughing, Vereesa reaching over and slapping her on her back to try to help. Heat rose in Anduin's face as Moira doubled over in laughter. Behind him, he heard Genn choking on air.

"What?" Gallywix asked. "I'm serious!"

Sylvanas turned her head slowly in his direction, a glare on her face that Anduin never wanted to see aimed at him. "That is not within the scope of these negotiations."

"Bilgewater law states that-"

"I don't care."

"If you're gonna get married ya gotta do it right," he insisted, leaning back in his chair and playing with the orb on his cane. "But could ya imagine how much we could mark up the tickets to that event."

"I think that," Anduin started, then cut himself off. Was he actually agreeing with the Goblin? Not really, but he had to phrase it right. "I think that this does… or should. That is to say…"

And now everyone was looking at him. Sylvanas's glare was indeed the thing of nightmares, but Jaina's expression was truly terrifying. Anduin coughed. "Heirs. Succession. How should that be handled?"

And would the existence of such an heir one day make the Horde and Alliance cease to exist as separate entities?

"Unnecessary, little boy, as my position is not hereditary," Sylvanas replied flatly, expression cooling. "And also … impossible for a variety of reasons."

Tyrande spoke up, thoughtfully. "There are potions, magical relics. It is not an insurmountable obstacle were it necessary."

Anduin wanted to sink into the floor, and Jaina… Jaina had tears in her eyes from her coughing fit and was red faced with anger.

She glared at Tyrande with an expression that all but screamed you of all people are supposed to be on my side.

Jaina and Tyrande were both owed the most blood by Sylvanas's Horde, Anduin reasoned. Theramore. Teldrassil. But the war had left scars across the whole of Azeroth and every member of the Alliance could make the same claim. The bleeding had to stop somewhere. That was why they were here.

Maybe it was naive of him to think a literal union on top of the political one could somehow help bridge the gap. He wondered if that had been what Tyrande was thinking, too.

"Why don't we take a break," Go'el said, unable to stop a long-suffering sigh. "And come back in an hour to finalize the first draft."

Jaina stood, her chair screeching on the floor as she stormed out of the conference room.

For reasons known only to herself, Sylvanas got up and followed.

Dalaran was in motion, the Council of Six having voted to return it to its original location after so many years. It would not be a quick trip, and all Sylvanas could see were clouds and the ocean. How Dalaran was to be treated was a matter of debate in the negotiations, but the Archmages had chosen neutrality. Sylvanas understood that it had not been a unanimous vote.

She spotted the Lord Admiral standing at the edge of the city far from the Violet Citadel, watching the ocean pass serenely far below. On silent feet, Sylvanas approached her. "We will share quarters."

Her voice startled Jaina, and Sylvanas grabbed her shoulder before she plunged off the city.

"We will share quarters," she repeated once the mage was no longer in danger of plummeting to her death. "Let them assume what they wish. I have no need to sleep, but it would keep up appearances."

Sylvanas didn't feel emotion the same way Jaina did, or her sisters. She barely remembered anything past rage and grief and regret. But she respected some people. Tolerated others. Even her sisters. Maybe especially her sisters. An ache that was far more than simply grief or regret formed in her still heart, and as always, she ignored it. If she didn't ignore it, she'd have to admit her heart was less dead than she wanted it to be.

And the only way Sylvanas had survived this long without succumbing to madness had been to keep her emotions dead and buried.

She grasped Jaina's chin between thumb and forefinger and forced her to look at her. "Is that acceptable?"

Jaina's nostrils flared, her eyes shooting daggers. She reached up and pried Sylvanas's fingers from her skin. "That's fine."

"You're beautiful when you're angry, Lady Proudmoore." The confusion on Jaina's face gave Sylvanas endless amusement. She let a predatory smile cross her lips. "Are you going to give me my hand back?"

Dropping her hand like it was a plagued rat, Jaina turned away again, folding her arms. "Just because we're going to do this, doesn't mean we're going to be friends. Or that we have to pretend to like each other."

"If you give into this hatred, this venture is already doomed." Sylvanas turned to go, but Jaina's hand closed around her elbow. She stopped, and turned her head towards her.

"Funny thing, you of all people talking about letting go of hatred." Jaina's hand tightened. "You were never going to accept anyone but me. Not just for my power. Why?"

"I deserve the very best." Sylvanas pulled her arm free, walking away. She allowed herself a smile when, after a moment, Jaina fell in step besides her.

"I'm flattered, really."

"When I was a child in Silvermoon," Sylvanas said, eyes on the citadel as she kept her pace slow. "I had certain expectations of my wedding."

"I think that's not uncommon," Jaina replied. If she had had her own, she didn't offer them.

Sylvanas knew which screw she could turn on that subject, if she chose, but Arthas was as sore a subject for her as Jaina. So in that, at least, they would forever be at an impasse. Using him to hurt one would hurt them both. Shaking her head at the irony, Sylvanas continued. "I knew four things for certain. I would wear the armor of my people, polished to shine. I would marry a woman and she would be my equal in nearly every way. There would be flowers in my hair."

She sneered at the third thing. Such a childish want. Something naive, a weakness that could only be exploited. Sylvanas was surprised at herself for even uttering it.

"And the fourth?" Jaina asked.

"Do you still have that ring or did you throw it into the sea?" She came to a stop, shadowed by one of the spires high over head. Her eyes glowed, giving the vague impression that they were bleeding. Her voice was suddenly hard. "Put it on."

It didn't really answer Jaina's question, though Sylvanas suspected she was trying to make guesses. She narrowed her eyes, then fished it out of her pouch and slipped it onto her finger. Sylvanas could almost feel Jaina attempting to ascertain if there was a tracking spell on it.

It would be in vain; that would not be how Sylvanas would track her. And they both knew Sylvanas would track her.

She looked at the ring on Jaina's finger, letting an old memory dance at the edge of her consciousness. Regret and sadness reached her eyes, and she turned back towards the citadel before Jaina could say anything about it.