Jaina returned to Orgrimmar right on time. A little early, to Sylvanas's surprise; she'd expected Jaina to toe the line. Nathanos looked like he'd sucked on a lemon when Jaina walked into Grommash Hold, unhurried and relaxed. She even gave him a pleasant smile, before focusing on Sylvanas. Nathanos's lemon somehow got even more sour.

"Honey, I'm home."

"Nathanos, leave us." Sylvanas said, not bothering to get up from the throne or even look at him. She was reclined again, both legs thrown over the armrest as she studied Jaina.

Nathanos bowed, backing away from Sylvanas and then departing from the Hold.

Once again surprising her, Jaina took her usual spot at Sylvanas's left, though she still faced her. Was this a game? Was she trying to lull Sylvanas into complacency? "Enjoy your vacation?"

"Very much."

Tyra had reported exactly what Sylvanas had expected and hoped for: Jaina had kept her word. The only real surprise had been Anduin's appearance in Boralus. They'd talked personal matters, and she had elected to not push Tyra as to details. If there'd been something of import Tyra would have volunteered the information unprompted, and Sylvanas was trying to give Jaina some modicum of privacy.

"Good. Come closer."

Frowning, Jaina took a few more steps, until she was close enough that Sylvanas could have taken her arm and pulled her into her lap if she'd chosen to. "What do you want?"

"Tell me about your trip," she responded, quirking her left eyebrow as she rested her cheek on her fist. Sylvanas noted the way Jaina's shoulders tightened and her eyes studied her face as she tried to determine what Sylvanas was up to.

Oh, she'd actually missed this, this taunting of Jaina (and perhaps Jaina herself). She gave into the urge to yank Jaina down into her lap. Jaina grabbed onto the back of the throne over Sylvanas's left shoulder with one hand, her other landing on Sylvanas's right breast.

"I hate you," Jaina muttered irritably.

"I know."

Jaina's hand lingered there a moment too long, before she realized where it was and pulled it away. Her expression shifted between embarrassment, anger, and back again, something that Sylvanas found most adorable.

"I was concerned," she drawled. "'The bed is so big and lonely, I wish you were here?'."

Jaina rolled her eyes at the mention of her midnight status report. "That is not what I said. Let me go."

Sylvanas quirked an eyebrow again, holding up empty hands that had released Jaina the moment gravity took over, giving her all the opportunity in the world to escape. And she did, after another moment, only to hold her hand out to Sylvanas.

What game was she playing?

"I don't want to talk here," Jaina said.

Sylvanas took her hand, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. She barely had time to blink before they were teleported into their quarters.

She narrowed her eyes. "How?"

Jaina stepped past Sylvanas, heading for the bedroom. "When I was improving the wards, I made sure that I, and only I, can teleport between the Hold and here. I can attune another mage as well, if you wish."

Sylvanas followed her into the bedroom as Jaina removed her cloak and hung it up on a hook above where Sylvanas's wedding armor still lay. "You are lucky I'm in a good mood, wife. Next time, tell me when you do something like that."

"I meant to, but I got distracted in all the preparation."

The bedroom was a little more crowded than Sylvanas was used to as she realized that Jaina had somehow portaled a small army's worth of clothing and personal effects in from Kul Tiras. She looked back at Jaina, who'd pulled out a simple tunic and trousers to change into. She seemed… happy.

It was an emotion Sylvanas was unfamiliar with, and it made her uncomfortable.

"What's this?" Jaina put her clothing down and picked up a dress that had been laid on the bed. It was a deep maroon, with silver highlights. Less modest than what Jaina typically wore these days, the low-cut design would expose her sides from hips to shoulders. It had been altered to fit Jaina's body, and Jaina turned to Sylvanas with her eyebrows raised.

"A gift," Sylvanas said, expression neutral. "I did mention the need to expand your wardrobe. Remember?"

Jaina frowned, then folded it carefully and set it back on the bed. She started to strip out of her travel clothing. "Is it your command I wear it?"

"Not unless you wish to." Sylvanas replied, watching her undress. "But I would like you to go shopping soon. You need more color."

Jaina seemed to remember their conversation from months ago. "More Horde colors you mean."

Sylvanas felt her lips twitch and she inclined her head, never tearing her eyes from Jaina. "Clever girl."

Jaina turned towards her, hand on cocked hip. "Did you miss me that much?"

"Of course not." Sylvanas made a show of rolling her eyes, then turned her back on Jaina and left the bedroom. Her own behaviour perplexed and irritated her, so much so that she left the suite and quietly made her way to Orgrimmar's training area.

Turning some target dummies into kindling was exactly what she needed right now.

It did nothing to remove the image of Jaina standing there naked from her mind, or the lingering feeling of a ghostly hand on her chest.

The next six weeks passed without incident, though Jaina was certain that Nathanos had made it his life's mission to catch her in some breach of the compact and she was seriously considering conjuring a teapot and hitting him with it.

Or worse.

Sylvanas rarely said anything about his behavior, and Jaina quickly realized that she was the one that needed to deal with it. Sylvanas wouldn't, or couldn't, stand up for her, so she had to stand up for herself.

Though Sylvanas had laughed, loudly and pleasantly, when Jaina told Nathanos that he was acting like Genn Greymane. Nathanos had looked so offended.

Jaina chose to ignore the feeling that laugh invoked in her, leaving the Hold and making her way down to the Drag. She liked the Drag almost as much as she liked the Valley of Honor. It was almost always in shadow thanks to the cliffs and fabric coverings, so it tended to bustle with people.

On her way to one of the tailoring shops, she passed a stall with a goblin merchant. The goblin was familiar to her but she kept her gaze firmly ahead, not breaking her stride or acknowledging that she'd seen him. Jaina Proudmoore would not be responsible for outing one of Stormwind's best spies.

One of the newer shops was operated by an odd couple; an elegant Shal'dorei woman and an orc who looked almost exactly like Jaina's favorite blacksmith, only with longer hair pulled back into a single braid.

The latter nodded once at her, barely taking her attention from arranging a display of fine fabric. Dainty work for someone who could probably snap both Jaina and the Shal'dorei in half.

At the same time.

Since the Orc was busy, Jaina turned her attention to the Shal'dorei. "Good morning. I'd like to commission some clothing."

The Shal'dorei looked her over. "You need it."

"Dahling.." A female voice from behind and below Jaina made her turn around. A goblin stood behind her, wearing fashionable glasses and what looked like the latest rage in Dalaran. "Why are ya talking to them? They're so behind the times. Come, come and allow Enda to make ya fab!" She waved her hands. "Beyond fab!"

Scoffing, the Shal'dorei retorted. "Do not listen to that trash."

"Trash? Trash?" Enda put her hand to her chest. "The only garbage around here is that ensemble Kasa tried to pass off at the last fashion convention."

Kasa stood suddenly, her muscles straining as her mate held her back. Jaina stepped between them and the goblin before things could escalate any further. "Stop this! It's just clothing for gods' sake."

"Just clothing?" The Shal'dorei looked like Jaina had insulted her mother. "This is a lifestyle. I don't want your business. Leave me."

"Good." Enda took Jaina's hand and tugged her towards her shop. "You don't want anything from them. Trust me."

As Jaina was pulled into Enda's shop, she heard Tyra talking to the Nightborne. "Yeh got anything like an elbow cozy?"

Enda's shop was small, with neatly lined displays of fabric and off-the-shelf clothing. She fingered the sleeve of one dress, until Enda slapped her hand. "No! No, for you, Lady Proudmoore, I'll have to start from scratch."

"Ow," Jaina muttered, shaking feeling back into her fingers as the goblin prodded her away from the racks.

She peered at Jaina, walking around her and tutting softly. "Yeah, yeah… the Warchief got the measurements right…"

"Wait, you're the one who altered that dress?"

"Of course, dahling." Enda hopped up onto a table so she could get a better look at the rest of Jaina. "Real busty, aren't ya. Not too shabby in the back either."

She cleared her throat, affecting her previous tone as she pulled out a sketchpad. "We can work with this. You are the consort of the Warchief, the wife of the Banshee Queen, the bridge between Horde and Alliance." Enda's eyes flashed as she considered the potential. "A revolution in fashion! Horde styles in Kul Tiran colors. Tauren styles in the color of the Kaldorei. Blends taking elements of both! But no capes." Enda swept her hand dramatically. "Never capes!"

Jaina opened her mouth to speak, only to have the sketchpad waved in her face.

Enda raised her voice, "You! You'll be my canvas, my life's work, my masterpiece! I can see it now, I'll be ri-the talk of the fashion world!"

"I don't know what you're-"

"Out, out!" Enda hopped down, pushing Jaina towards the exit. "I must get to work! Come back tomorrow for your first fitting!" There was a momentary pause, and then the goblin added, "Dahlin."

The door slammed behind Jaina and she turned to stare incredulously at it.

"What the hell just happened?"

What 'just happened' turned out to be an almost entirely new wardrobe. Jaina still didn't know where that first dress had come from, but Enda was as skilled as she was unconventional, and she was fast. Unfortunately, it meant most of the clothing Jaina had portaled to Orgrimmar was mothballed or returned to Kul Tiras.

Enda crafted everything she promised, and then some. Jaina spent most of the following weeks in and out of Enda's shop for fitting after fitting. It wasn't the worst use of her time; Enda's assistant was a thick-set, chatty troll with a broken left tusk and an ear for gossip so she was both entertained and informed.

Today, Xu'shunun shuffled around Jaina while Enda adjusted the fabric of a robe that Enda claimed would amplify her defensive capabilities. Jaina believed it; she could feel the spellthread woven throughout. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she liked the way it hung off of her hips. While the dress Sylvanas had given her had been more Elvish in design, Enda had taken a Kul Tiran pattern, stripped it to its bare essentials and then done something entirely new and Horde-like to it.

"It would be a crime to cut blue and silver from your wardrobe," Enda said. "Not with your beautiful eyes. But dahlin, how has no one thought to put you in pale gold yet, to match that striking blonde streak?"

And that was the direction that Enda went next. Bold reds and pale golds for highlights.

Despite herself, Jaina liked it, especially as it lacked the iron spikes from the the Orc Collection Enda had created as the previous week's design. Jaina loathed spikes, but had put up with it and prayed she'd never have occasion to wear it. Mostly it reminded her of an incident about a month after the wedding.

A pair of Orcs had spit on her. Before she could summon up frostbolts, Sylvanas had swept in. Retribution had been swift; forty lashes for each, delivered by Sylvanas's hand. The Warchief had not held back, and Jaina was not ashamed to admit that she'd felt a great deal of satisfaction at the time.

"So I was sayin' I said, I don't tink dat dis is such a good idea, ju know?" Xu'shunun made Jaina lift her arm up for Enda. "An' he said back 'I don't see why we gotta listen to dat Banshee bitch no more.' So I told him dat Banshee is da Warchief and you gotta listen to the warchief, but ju know, he isn't wrong."

Jaina couldn't stop herself from snorting, and the troll grinned at her.

"Ju be closest den anyone, what ya tinking?"

"That he's definitely not wrong," Jaina said, laughing.

Xu threw his head back, laughing as well. "Jus' cuz she da Warchief don' mean we gotta agree with everyting. Dis ain't like it was with Garrosh. Now dat, dat was real bad. People be disappearin' if dey so much as breathed wrong."

Sylvanas was many things, but Garrosh was not one of them. A shadow fell over Jaina. "She's not Garrosh. But that's not a very high bar, either; Sylvanas has done some unforgivable things as Warchief. And she can be a horrendous bitch at times."

Enda had an expression on her face best described as 'It's true. You shouldn't say it, but it's true.'

Lowering her arm and moving to the other, Xu chuckled. "She bought us peace, wit ju."

Jaina frowned. Xu had a point, but she found herself asking, "Is she popular? Am I popular?"

"You're growing on us, dahlin," Enda assured her, stepping back and adjusting her glasses as she regarded Jaina. "People weren't too happy with the Warchief by the end of the war."

"But tings, dey be turnin' around," Xu said. "Da Warchief, she damn scary. And so are ju. But… For da first time since Thrall stepped down, it feels like we don't gotta fight jus to survive."

He shrugged, then at Enda's direction helped Jaina out of the dress. "So I don't know. What do ju tink?"

"I'm not sure it matters what I think. Sylvanas and I have our disagreements, but there are things we agree on as well. The same as any…" And Jaina almost winced before she caught herself. "Couple. But I'm not the Warchief."

"True dat. Her word be law."

Thanking Enda, Jaina changed into her regular garb. This was from Enda's Warchief collection, a low cut dress in purple and black, with bared shoulders and arms.

Tyra fell into step behind her as she walked through the Drag, back towards Grommash Hold. Sylvanas was inside, meeting with Baine and Lor'themar. Jaina took her usual spot at Sylvanas's left (And one day, she really should ask why her left), smiling at Baine.

Sylvanas leaned in, speaking so low and dangerous that only Jaina could hear. "I wish to speak with you. Alone."

She barely paid attention to the rest of the meeting, trying to figure out why Sylvanas wanted to see her alone, and why there'd been an undercurrent of anger to her tone. Jaina couldn't think of anything she'd done to warrant a reaction, and by the time they retired for the night she was fully prepared to argue Sylvanas to death. And possibly blast her.

"Remind me of who you are." Sylvanas's armor clattered to the floor, and she stepped out of it. She usually left it by the door and Jaina refused to pick it up, just as she refused to pick up the wedding armor in the bedroom.

"Pardon?"

"Who are you." Sylvanas leveled a gaze at her, her eyes such a deep red in the darkness of the hallway that they were the only thing Jaina could see on her face.

"Jaina Proudmoore."

This time, Sylvanas hissed. "No. Who are you."

Jaina drew herself up to her full height, staring angrily at Sylvanas, voice like silk over steel. "Lady Jaina Proudmoore. Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras. Archmage of the Kirin Tor, Ruler of Theramore. Consort to the Warchief of the Horde."

Sylvanas had moved closer. Despite the fact that their height difference was imperceptible, she still seemed to tower. "And as my consort, do you somehow think it appropriate to gossip with the citizens about my position?"

"I was just being friendly," Jaina countered, furrowing her brow.

"We show a unified front. That was the first rule I gave you," Sylvanas said. "We don't air our disagreements to tailors."

There was no way that Tyra could have been fast enough to report that, and Jaina doubted Sylvanas had been spying. Nathanos, or one of Sylvanas's many other spies. Anger welled up in Jaina. "It's bad enough I'm shadowed day and night, you don't have to have Dark Rangers tailing me too!"

"Clearly I do."

Narrowing her eyes, Jaina said, "Xu and Enda have the right to their opinion."

"Of course they do," Sylvanas replied. She lifted her hand and cupped Jaina's face. "Your friends are safe. I'm not Garrosh."

Feeling like she'd been physically slapped, Jaina stood there as Sylvanas dropped her hand and walked past her. She worked her jaw, trying to make sense of the situation. Was Sylvanas actually … hurt? Or was she more worried about Jaina's actions accidentally undermining her position. In retrospect, she could see what she'd done. Jaina had a hard time remembering it, but she was supposed to be Sylvanas's equal, and sometimes she was even treated like it.

She found Sylvanas settling into the bathtub, and she couldn't not look. "Sylvanas?"

Sylvanas looked at her.

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you." Sylvanas inclined her head at Jaina. "Would you care to join me?"

Jaina fled so quickly she nearly tripped over her own feet.