Five months to the day after the wedding, Jaina asked to visit her mother, Dalaran, and then Anduin. She was allowed the privilege, and she wanted to take advantage of it. She missed her mother. She missed her friends.

Things remained in flux between her and Sylvanas. They circled each other like territorial worgs whenever they were forced to interact behind closed doors but for the most part went out of their way to avoid each other, which went a long way towards Jaina's ability to maintain the airs of congeniality when in public. Both of them knew that keeping Jaina happy, or at least appearing to do so, was as important to the plan working as anything else. Sylvanas had even graciously allowed Jaina select duties to perform.

It amounted, in many ways, to busy work-but Jaina enjoyed it. The Horde's paperwork was atrocious. Disorganized and with a filing system that could only have been developed by Goblins. She eventually discovered the problem; an Elvish system that had been adapted by the Goblins and then somehow made into the ultimate in inefficiency. The idea of Orcs doing paperwork had been absurd at best, so at least she had an explanation.

It took her three weeks to sort and a fourth to teach Sylvanas's aides how to use it, but productivity tripled.

She'd also expanded the size of Sylvanas's library by nearly double and proposed a public one, which Sylvanas had agreed to after careful consideration.

So it was in this light that Jaina had finally asked for a visit. She stood with her hands behind her back, posture relaxed as Sylvanas eyed her. Jaina hoped that making this request after everyone else had left the Hold might make Sylvanas a little more accomodating. She was willing to negotiate and figured that starting big might get her more than she expected. It was a useful tactic.

"Boralus, Dalaran and Stormwind?" Sylvanas stood from the throne, eyeing Jaina with her usual bored expression.

It was an act, Jaina had learned. There were many facets to Sylvanas, many masks she wore, and Jaina had quietly filed away all her observations for some future use she wasn't yet sure of.

What Sylvanas was thinking now was how much rope she could give Jaina before Jaina hung herself, and how much she could give her without appearing weak to others. The Alliance. The other Horde leaders. Nathanos, who Jaina knew was somewhere nearby, lurking.

"It's been a long time since I was in Dalaran," Jaina pointed out. "And I'd like to visit my mother and allow my people to see that I'm okay. It would do good for Stormwind to see I'm unharmed too."

And by Stormwind, she meant Anduin, Genn and Tyrande for the most part. Both the Gilneans and Kaldorei had effectively moved into Stormwind and it was not lost on Jaina that they shared a common hatred in Sylvanas.

It would take years for Ashenvale to return to being a home for the Night Elves-and even then, the remains of Teldrassil would be a constant reminder of what had happened. Jaina remembered talk of planting a new World Tree somewhere in the Eastern Kingdoms.

"Not Stormwind," Sylvanas replied. "Not yet. But a few days with your mother, and a day in Dalaran. King Wrynn and anyone else may travel to either place if they wish to see you."

That had gone well, surprisingly. Jaina pressed her luck. "Four in Kul Tiras, one in Dalaran."

The corners of Sylvanas's lips twitched. "Carefully chosen words. Kul Tiras, instead of Boralus. Thinking of sightseeing?"

"I'd like to catch up with an old friend in Drustvar, among others."

Sylvanas regarded her, then nodded. "Very well. Three days in Kul Tiras and one in Dalaran. If this goes well, then we can discuss longer visits. And I will know if you share any of my secrets."

"I haven't seen anything worth reporting. And I won't tell you any of theirs, either." Something told Jaina she'd never get more than a week, two if Sylvanas was in a good mood. But a legitimate escape and vacation would be wonderful and she refused to act like a spy. Unless she caught Sylvanas doing something to break her side of the compact, then Jaina wasn't going to breathe a word. If Sylvanas did break the compact, all bets were off.

"I expected no less." Sylvanas chuckled, then continued. "Tyra will accompany you. And you may choose one of the Alliance champions as well, I don't care who."

Damn.

Seeming to note Jaina's irritation, Sylvanas said, "If you'd spent less time trying to dodge her and risking the compact in the process, perhaps I'd allow something different."

Jaina didn't bother trying to explain; she knew Sylvanas understood why she'd tested her boundaries and that Sylvanas didn't care. Mostly, she knew Sylvanas was right, and that upset her more than anything. "I'll send missives. Is next week all right?"

Nodding, Sylvanas returned to the throne and Jaina felt like she'd been dismissed.

But when she turned to leave, she was stopped by Sylvanas's voice. "Jaina?"

No Lady or Lord Admiral or wife. Just her name, evenly spoken. Jaina didn't know why, but it made heat rush to her face so she didn't turn around. "Yes?"

There was a long moment of silence, before Sylvanas murmured, "Nevermind."

"Clever, but risky."

Nathanos's voice interrupted Sylvanas's thoughts in the wake of Jaina's exit. She leaned her elbow on the side of the throne and rested her chin on her fist. "Nothing we do is without risk."

"Yes, but Proudmoore is a crafty woman. She disabled half the wards in Orgrimmar just to see if she could. You should have executed her, immediately."

Sylvanas waved her hand. "She strengthened them as she did so. Her work was… invaluable to Orgrimmar's safety."

"Simply an excuse, there's no telling what sort of traps she's laid in our defenses." Nathanos's dismissive tone rankled Sylvanas, and she fixed him with a steady glare. He held up his hands. "I mean to say that she takes advantage of our generosity. Four days is too much, too soon."

Traps had been a definite possibility, but Sylvanas's own mages had found nothing to indicate that Jaina had done such a thing. If anything they'd been amazed by the skill and power with which Jaina had brought down Orgrimmar's magical defenses and then brought them back up, stronger than ever.

Sylvanas knew that Jaina was playing some kind of game and she was suspicious as to her motivations, but she took any advantage she could. "Nathanos, should she choose, she can turn us all to arcane dust, wards or no wards. You act as though she gave no warning."

"Orgrimmar was defenseless." Nathanos clasped his hands behind his back. "Why are we letting her run around the city as though she owns it? She could be turning the people against you. Would it not be better for her to stay in the Hold, where we can keep her on her leash? I have the most lovely chain collar prepared, just for her."

"She took the wards down in stages. Do you really think Jaina Proudmoore is that stupid?" Sylvanas stared at Nathanos until he inclined his head and conceded the point. As for the chain collar, she said nothing of it as she continued. "She spends enough time among the people of Orgrimmar to no longer see them as monsters, which is exactly what I wanted."

"She sees you as a monster."

"I am one." Sylvanas settled back into the throne, reclining in her usual manner. "It's not too soon for her to visit her family. Especially when the Alliance was so accommodating as to insist on visitation rights without my even having to bring it up. They played into my hands so beautifully that I doubt even the old wolf realizes they were swindled."

"And how does it serve your plan, Dark Lady?"

Nathanos was fishing for information, even if he'd probably already guessed it. Sylvanas might consider him her closest ally and friend, but she kept much to herself. "It makes me look generous. Allow her these moments of freedom and strengthen her bond with our enemies. That bond is what keeps Anduin's dog from turning a bark into a bite. It keeps Kul Tiras from our shores and the Kaldorei in their forests instead of seeking revenge."

"Really? One woman wields that much influence among our enemies?"

"Our new allies. Try to keep up." Sylvanas stood. "My consort is closest to Anduin. He, of course, would want to move immediately to protect and avenge her. The cub might profess for peace but he is his father's son. It's the rest of the Alliance where the strain will show. She has had much less contact with Ironforge or the Dark Iron. The Draenei may also be unwilling to resume bloodshed over a single woman. The old dog, of course, will jump at any opportunity to rabidly attack. My sisters, as well. To say nothing of how quickly Kul Tiras would sail its fleet to our shores."

Sylvanas stopped in front of Nathanos. "The Kaldorei are the wild card. Revenge? Or are they, too, too bloodied to stomach further war. Now the Alliance is split between those who want war and those who would choose peace. Allowing her to strengthen the right bonds, in the right places, will make the Alliance strain under its own weight. The threat of her death could cause even more tension among them than the reality."

Nathanos nodded. "If they forget Jaina exists, or the reasons she means anything to them, she'd no longer be a useful hostage. And it reminds the Alliance of what they stand to lose while applying pressure to them."

"The Alliance self-regulates to keep themselves in line, meaning less effort on our part," Sylvanas finished. "Even if they eventually realize this, what of it? They'll be no more likely to abandon her to her fate. That is why I expect her to do her part, in this. She won't want the privilege revoked."

"I don't trust this give and take, or that we're at the mercy of that moody bitch."

Sylvanas's voice took on a dangerous edge. "Only I am allowed to belittle my wife, Nathanos."

She couldn't have her advisors speaking out against her wife. Insulting Lady Jaina had certain implications and Sylvanas couldn't allow it. It would mean that Sylvanas lacked control over her people, and that would present a specific image to the world at large that was counterproductive to that which she needed to project for the good of the Horde. Word spreading that the Warchief's consort was not respected would undermine them both as surely as Jaina fucking someone behind her back would. That thought enraged her for the briefest of moments.

"Apologies, Lady." Nathanos scowled, his eyes searching Sylvanas's face. "But she could betray us in a heartbeat."

"And send the world back to war. It's been five months. While she's still determining her boundaries, she has not tried to escape. She has not attacked anyone and she has not second-guessed me in front of others." Jaina had earned the benefit of the doubt, if not Sylvanas's full trust. "However, as you well know, I never trust anyone entirely."

Not even Nathanos.

And especially not Jaina Proudmoore.

Home.

It was a strange feeling, home. Boralus smelled the same and sounded the same. Gulls cried overhead, men and women sang shanties as their ships pulled into the harbor, and the creak of wood and sail brought Jaina back to days long ago.

But it wasn't home any longer, and Jaina couldn't even blame Sylvanas for that. Being gone again, for months, had reminded her that Kul Tiras had not been home since she'd left for Dalaran as a child. Certainly not since she'd sailed for Kalimdor, and for a moment Jaina wondered where home truly was. The missing weight in her pocket never felt so heavy, the whispers of the widows and orphans of Theramore rising to her ears. She pushed them aside so she could focus on the now.

Kul Tiras might be home no longer, but it was still in her blood and her blood sang as she walked through the city.

"Shoo." Tyra swatted as a gull swooped past. "Hate these fuckin' things. Always tryin' to eat chunks outta me."

Jaina said nothing, her smile impossible to contain even at the reminder of her terms. Three days in Kul Tiras. She intended to make the most of it, spending tomorrow with childhood friend Lucille Waycrest, but today and the day after Lucille were to be spent with her mother and brother.

And perhaps not a little relaxing and taking in the sea air.

"Lady Proudmoore!" A voice intruded into her thoughts, and she stopped short of running into the speaker.

Yukale inclined her head at Jaina, before giving her a wide smile and tight hug. To Jaina's relief, Yukale made no comment when she held onto the hug longer than necessary.

The rogue and her girlfriend had been among those who'd helped Jaina and her mother make amends with each other, mostly by standing there ominously staring at Katherine Proudmoore until she'd done something. Just another in a long list of things Yukale had done to make Jaina consider her a friend. It didn't hurt that she tended to lean towards the cheerful and pleasant edge of the spectrum. Whatever pains occasionally escaped her eyes she kept to herself.

Too much bad had happened in the world for anyone to escape knowing what pain and grief felt like. Jaina smiled at her, feeling her worries ebb away. "I wasn't expecting to see you until later. How's Unariel?"

"I was down here on business anyway." Yukale assured her. "And your mother wanted to make sure you safely made it to the Keep." Her expression changed, her smile brighter. "If I know Una, she's busy fleecing a pack of sailors for every coin they have."

"We can leave her to her work." Jaina smiled, and rolled her eyes. She felt touched at her mother's concern. "Well, with you and my shadow here, I'm sure I'll make it unscathed."

Yukale's eyes fell to the trophies hanging from Tyra's belt and her expression hardened slightly. She nodded once at her, then turned to lead Jaina through the city. Jaina supposed whatever goodwill they had shared at the wedding had evaporated, but then, Kaldorei ears were hard to miss.

They got a mixture of looks as they walked, but there was less pity than Jaina had feared. Respect, joy, and sadness lined the faces of her people.

Tyra seemed to get the bulk of the angry looks but she shrugged them off easily. Jaina almost envied Tyra that ability, but she couldn't be upset about it. Tyra had been appointed the personal guard of the Warchief's consort and there were few honors that could surpass that for a member of the Horde, and especially one of the Forsaken.

As much jailer and spy, Tyra took the guard part seriously as well. Despite the disgusting trophy habit, it was almost cute; Jaina didn't exactly need defending, but she was used to having guards.

Jaina greeted her mother with a hug, though she stopped herself from letting it linger too long this time. Yukale might understand that she just really needed the contact, but her mother might misinterpret it as a cry for help.

"Are you all right, Jaina?" Katherine asked, stepping back to give her a look over. If her voice was even, her eyes betrayed doubt.

Jaina sighed. "I'm fine. It's not like they're torturing me, mother."

"We've heard stories."

"Have you now?" Jaina folded her arms. "These I have to hear."

"I hear she keeps you locked up in a tower at night, and that you're growing out your hair so you can climb down it and escape." A man's voice drew her attention to the right, her brother approaching her with wide arms.

Laughing, Jaina returned the hug warmly. "As long as I don't go porting off to Stormwind or Ironforge, Sylvanas doesn't really care where I go." Or when, unless she needed her at her side in the Hold. A nuance, so Jaina didn't feel the need to bring it up.

She even held her wrists up to show them unmarked. Nathanos might want her in chains, but Sylvanas thus far ignored him.

"That one's mine," Tyra said, pride in her raspy voice.

"What?" Yukale asked.

"That story, that one is mine." Tyra grinned as they all stared at her.

Jaina slowly dragged her hand down her face. "Explain."

"Yer spies are everywhere, we've got a game ta see how far they'll get afore someone realizes it ain't real. Yer fell for mine!" Tyra's cackle echoed off the cobblestones of the Keep's yard and she seemed to be relishing the attention.

Katherine pursed her lips in a manner that reminded Jaina of herself. Dear gods, that's a disturbing thought. She shook off the brief moment of existential panic as her mother spoke again. "Dare I ask what other tall tales you people have spread about my daughter?"

Tyra responded with a grin. "Wouldn't yeh like to know. There's this one involvin' ice an-"

"Let's all go inside," Yukale interrupted, elbowing Tyra in her decaying ribs.

Jaina gave her a thankful look. "Yes. I think that's for the best." She turned to Tyra. "I'm going to speak to my mother. Alone."

"Dark Lady said to be nearby. I'll stand down the hall."

Sighing, Jaina nodded, wondering if Sylvanas had asked Tyra to eavesdrop or if she was actually going to trust her.

She looked back to Yukale. "Go rescue your Ren'dorei before she manages to draw the ire of half the sailors in the fleet. I'd like you two to join us for dinner."

Yukale tossed off a playful salute. "Oh, she's just going to love that."

Jaina guessed that Unariel Morningstar and formal settings did not always mix well.

After Yukale left and Tyra found a place to watch the sea down the hall, Jaina joined her mother in the Lord Admiral's suite. She sagged against the door to the suite, looking around at the familiar and yet somehow foreign sight. "Everything is a damned ordeal these days."

"Everything was always an ordeal in our family," Katherine remarked, not unkindly. "Come sit. I need you to tell me everything you can."

Giving her mother a look, Jaina settled into one of the stiff backed chairs she'd always hated as a child. It usually meant she was in trouble, or that she was waiting to get ready for some function which was, honestly, almost as bad as being in trouble. "I'm fine, mother. That wasn't for show, I really am unharmed. It's been a rough adjustment, but I didn't expect it not to be."

"You're a prisoner." Katherine opened a bottle and poured a glass of port for each of them.

"I'm the Warchief's consort," Jaina replied, rubbing the bridge of her nose. It supposedly came with some level of authority but she had yet to see how far she could push it. It wasn't that she was afraid, but that she felt … unsteady. Like she didn't know where to put her feet; it was easier to stand aboard a ship in a storm. Let that be another problem for future-her.

Katherine scoffed derisively. "That's somehow worse."

"Contrary to rumor," Jaina said, "We've barely touched each other outside of formal function. And she's not… unpleasant to talk to."

Or look at.

Just admitting that to herself was enough to make Jaina knock her entire glass back and grab the bottle to refill. "Tell me what's going on here. At home. Nothing secret, but I want to know about the people, get the pulse of the nation."

While she'd be sure to get the opinions of others, such as Yukale, and Anduin, Jaina listened carefully to her mother. According to Katherine, the people of Kul Tiras were accepting the arrangement with something less than polite approval.

They could, Jaina realized, be a problem sometime in the future. They'd just gotten her back, just accepted her again, only for her to be snatched away by the vile, evil Horde.

How many sailors lay beneath the waves as a result of the Horde? This Horde. Sylvanas's Horde. Jaina felt a chill up her spine. If something happened on the Alliance side, Kul Tiras was as likely to be involved as Genn Greymane or the Kaldorei. Or a dissident in the Alliance's 7th Legion. There were, in fact, an alarming number of vectors for the compact to be broken outside of her control.

Did Sylvanas have similar concerns among her own people? Orcs unable to let go of the past, Forsaken who felt hounded?

She needed to talk to Anduin in Dalaran, and set aside some time with Yukale or another Champion. Later.

Later.

"Jaina?"

"Actually, I really just want to spend part of today and the day after tomorrow in the city." Let the people see her, and know she was okay. Quell any possible unrest. She met her mother's eyes. "Peace must be maintained, or this entire experiment will be a failure."

"You sound more like your old self," Katherine said, and Jaina didn't know which hurt more; that she might be right, or that it wasn't clear if her mother approved.

Some wounds took time to heal, if they ever truly did.

Dinner was uneventful, but by the time Jaina retired for the night she was looking forward to bed. And yet sleep eluded her; the bed felt wrong. Too soft in the wrong places and something else missing that she couldn't place.

She got up, striding to the little desk to dash off a message, then teleported it to Sylvanas. Let her chew over that.

Jaina forgot about that the next day, rising early for the ride to Drustvar and the estate that Lucille was still rebuilding.

Lucille was taller than she expected, but it was good to see an old friend, and one who had absolutely no expectations of her.

"What is Orgrimmar like?"

Jaina leaned back in a chair, eyes moving from the view of workers repairing the gates, to Lucille's face. "It's been cold. The wedding was at the beginning of fall and we're in winter now."

Lucille nodded, sipping some wine. She gave Jaina's shadow standing guard a few yards away a wary look. "Has it snowed? Can it snow?"

Jaina held up a finger. "It snowed one night a few weeks ago. A light dusting that was gone by mid morning. According to some of the people I spoke to, there has been heavier snow before. It's just very rare."

Orgrimmar and the northern part of Durotar had looked pretty with the snow on the red stone and sand, and standing in the early morning watching it fall had been the first time Jaina had felt at peace in Orgrimmar.

Sylvanas had found her, somehow, but said nothing. Just kept her hand at the small of Jaina's back. She'd thus far refused to contemplate what it could have meant.

"Maybe I'll make it snow for them." Jaina flashed her friend a smile.

"I'd pay to see the look on everyone's faces if you did that."

"The borders are open, technically. If you wanted to play tourist." And truthfully, Jaina would like for Lucille to visit. And Yukale and Vereesa and so many others, though she thought it might be a lot harder to get Vereesa in. She didn't know how Sylvanas would react to her, so that might require secrecy.

"Once I've got some things settled here, I might do that."

Jaina sighed, heavily enough that her shoulders sagged. "Tell me something, Lucille. As an outside observer. Do you think this is going to end up working, or am I just delaying the inevitable enough for the Horde to rebuild its strength?"

"Yes."

"To what?"

Lucille smiled. "All of it."

"How very helpful." Jaina lifted her glass in a toast.

She spent so much time drinking and chatting with Lucille that she chose to stay the night, returning to Boralus early the next morning. The city was quiet, even the sounds of the sea subdued in the early morning light, and no one greeted her as she entered the Keep except for the guards. One called out to her. "Lord Admiral, you have a visitor. He's waiting in the meeting room."

Nodding, Jaina chose not to correct her; she was still the people's Lord Admiral, even if her mother had reclaimed the title. It was nice to hear, in fact. It made her square her shoulders and stiffen her spine, a feeling she'd needed.

With Tyra trailing along, she headed to the meeting room. When she saw who was waiting, she turned to her shadow. "May I have a few minutes alone with him?"

Shrugging, Tyra took a spot at the door, and Jaina decided that was the best she could ask for. She approached Anduin Wrynn and smiled brightly as he turned to greet her. Before she could get a word off, he hugged her. It was warm and familiar and Jaina stood there a moment, dumbfounded, before wrapping her arms around him. It brought her back to her study in her tower, to the prince who was not yet a king and it took all her considerable willpower to keep her tears for all that had been lost to both of them in check.

He hadn't hugged her since before his father had died. Since before Theramore even. In a lot of ways he'd replaced Tandred for her; the brother she'd adopted for the brother she'd left behind. She and Tandred still hadn't been able to fully make amends, though they were friendly with each other.

"Why is everyone trying to hug me?" She asked, voice thick and choked.

"It's good healing," Anduin said, gesturing at two chairs. "Sit, Jaina. And talk to me. The way you used to make me talk to you."

When Jaina hadn't been looking, Anduin had grown up. She smiled, grateful and proud, and took a seat.

Leaving Kul Tiras was harder than even Jaina had expected it to be. Her mother wasn't the kind of person to cling, but she hovered a little too close as Jaina packed, like some kind of maternal gyrocopter.

Jaina was leaving with a lot more than she'd come with. Gifts, keepsakes, clothing. All of it she teleported directly to her bedroom in Orgrimmar, before hugging her mother and making promises to write.

Returning to Dalaran didn't quite feel like home, either. Like Kul Tiras, it had been a bridge she'd burned by her actions. Jaina had no shame or regret over expelling the Horde from the city following the theft of the Divine Bell, but she did regret leaving after the Legion invasion had started. Going on a one-woman demon slaying rampage around the world as the Champions of Azeroth pushed back the core of the Legion's forces on the Broken Isles didn't seem to make up for that.

Shaking off the feeling that she could have been or should have been more useful, Jaina stepped into the city, flanked by a Kaldorei and a Forsaken. At least here, Tyra felt more like a proper bodyguard than a spy or jailer.

Yukale turned to Tyra. "Can I get a few minutes alone with Jaina? Please?"

Tyra narrowed her eyes at her, the nodded. "Five minutes. No more."

She stepped away, heading towards one of the armor shops.

Yukale looped her arm through Jaina's and half guided half dragged her to a quiet corner.

"How do you and Tyra know each other?" Jaina asked, curiosity finally too much to bear.

"We met during the Third War, on Hyjal." Yukale opened her pack and started rifling through it. "When she was still alive. She was the first human I befriended, but she returned to Lordaeron after the battle was over to free her land from the Scourge."

Jaina frowned. Tyra would had returned to a Lordaeron that was overrun by the Scourge. She must have died, been raised by the Scourge and then later freed by Sylvanas. "That explains why her name is familiar. I probably saw it on some paperwork when we sailed to Kalimdor. That was … a hopeless battle she returned to. I'm sorry."

"It's… hard, being on opposite sides. We've done things to each other and those we care about in the course of war and circumstances that aren't easily forgiven." Yukale straightened, a small rectangular box in her hand as she absently hummed some tune Jaina couldn't place.

"Have you?" Jaina looked down at the box, curiously. "Forgiven each other."

"For the most part. Your whole situation has helped." Yukale held the box out. "This is a device of my own invention, based on some old goblin tech. You can talk to anyone with a similar box tuned to the right frequency."

For a moment, Jaina felt something like hope blossom in her chest at Yukale's words. Her situation had helped bring two people on opposite sides of the war together. That was something, wasn't it? She shook herself and gave Yukale a dubious look. "Goblin tech?"

Yukale clarified, "The newer models no longer explode at random."

Jaina laughed, a good hearty one that came up from her belly. She leaned her hand on Yukale's shoulder. "I understand what you're trying to do, but I'm going to have to decline this gift."

Yukale's violet eyebrows furrowed. "It's just in case you need to talk. Or have someone to listen to you, when you need privacy. Or to vent. Or..."

"I know. But Sylvanas might not see it that way. She might see it as a way to pass secrets, and I can't even blame her for that. I know you've spent years trying to bring both sides together, but ultimately, you're still Alliance."

"So are you." But as Yukale slipped the box back into her pack, Jaina wondered just how much longer she could make that claim.