"Warchief." Minuial bowed low, and Jaina gave the priest a friendly smile.
"Champion. I've another task for you and that brute of yours."
Minuial raised her eyebrows, though to Jaina's amusement she didn't disagree with the assessment of her husband. "What is your command?"
"I've heard … rumors." Sylvanas waved one of her hands. The movement almost dislodged the cat perched on her shoulder. "I want them confirmed, by any means necessary."
The smile she gave Sylvanas sent a chill down Jaina's spine. She sometimes felt that Minuial was more of an avenging angel. "That won't be a problem. Where should we start?"
"Ratchet. See Nathanos before you depart, he will have additional information for you about these rumors."
Jaina turned her eyes to Sylvanas as the Sin'dorei made her exit. Sylvanas glanced at her and lifted a finger to her lips.
Later then.
Jaina nodded, shifting on her feet. She didn't want to be in the Hold today. Her ship was being outfitted for the mission, and she had a great deal to plan before they set sail.
Earlier, Dread Admiral Tattersail had nominated Jaina to lead the armada. Not even her mother had objected, a fact which left Jaina feeling uneasy.
She also had a personal matter to attend to, though she had to be careful of that. The last thing she wanted was to call Sylvanas's attention to it and thus far her mother hadn't mentioned it either. Jaina wasn't sure if that actually hurt or not.
"Lady Proudmoore, you seem distracted."
Her head snapped up at Sylvanas's voice. "I'm just thinking about the mission."
"Indulge me. Tell me the plan."
Jaina took a breath and nodded. "As it stands now, the Tempest, Dreadnaught, Banshee's Wail and Doomhammer's Legacy will meet Dawnchaser en route to a rendezvous point with two additional Alliance ships. We will sail to the location of the last known attack and begin searching. There's a small island chain near there that they could be hiding in, so it's the best place to start."
Sylvanas studied her for a moment, and Jaina wondered if she was searching for some flaw in the plan or something to denounce about it. A smaller, embarrassed side of her hoped Sylvanas would praise her for it.
But before Sylvanas could say anything, a lanky goblin rushed into the hold and nearly tripped over his own feet. He stopped in front of the Warchief, holding up a finger as he leaned his hand on his knee and caught his breath. Finally, he gasped out. "They've stormed Gallywix's Pleasure Palace!"
"Who?" Jaina prompted.
"It's that Harlene Quixie!" He punched his fist into his palm, horror growing on his face with every word. "She got everyone riled up, talkin' nonsense about fair wages an' universal healthcare. They're going to redistribute the wealth!"
Jaina kept her expression neutral, though when she looked at Sylvanas she couldn't help the delighted glint in her eyes.
Sylvanas waved her hand, dismissing him. "What terrible news. It's such a pity that this is an internal Bilgewater matter and I cannot step in."
"But…" The Goblin looked up at her, wide-eyed and droopy eared. "They're...they're gonna kill him!"
"A terrible pity," Sylvanas repeated, eyes drilling into the messenger as if they all didn't know that Sylvanas could legitimately step in at this point.
Jaina waited until they were alone. Understanding the need for the Horde to appear strong and united, she asked, "Do we need to step in?"
"Let us see how this plays out," Sylvanas replied, settling back into the throne. "But I believe we'll be meeting with the new leader of the Bilgewater soon enough."
"Until then," Jaina said, thinking this balancing act could be very dangerous for Sylvanas. "I'm going to head upstairs and triple check my plans."
"Academics." Snorting, Sylvanas waved her hand as if to shoo her away, attention already drifting to Varian, who'd gotten bored and was entertaining himself by batting at her long eyebrows like feather teasers. Jaina quickly walked to the elevator. She'd hoped to slip away quietly; but she turned to find Sylvanas watching her, and held her gaze until she was out of view.
Jaina ran her fingers along the war table as she passed it, then spotted something on the ground near the bar. She walked over and picked up a little ship, rolling it around in her hand.
Sylvanas had marked her, claimed her, used her until she'd come undone on that very table, just last night. Jaina's hand started to shake and she grasped it with the other to stop the trembling.
She wasn't really looking at the little ship any more. What was wrong with her? She'd willingly bedded Sylvanas Windrunner, and not just once. Jaina sank to her knees, leaning her shoulder against the bar.
She'd sold out. Submitted. Begged.
And the thing that upset her the most was she didn't think she had to strength to stop it. Worse, she didn't want to.
Blinking tears from her eyes, she looked at the little ship again. A long time ago, after she'd moved to Dalaran to train, she'd visited Boralus on her birthday. Her father had given her an intricately designed miniature of the Tempest.
It had been able to float, and with a little bit of magic Jaina had put wind to its sails. She'd had so much fun putting her tiny ship into storms and battles. It had eventually rested on top of a bookshelf in Theramore Tower.
Jaina could barely remember who that little girl had been; and yet sometimes it seemed like a child was the only person her mother saw. It had definitely been the only person her father had seen, especially near the end. How often had someone looked at her and dismissed her, seeing a youthful girl and not a woman?
Even her own friends had looked on her with pity, and it felt as though they no longer believed she was her own person.
The tears burned at her cheeks. What mess had her life become that Sylvanas was the one person she could count on to see her for who she was?
Was that it? Was that why she let herself become the Warchief's plaything? Validation?
Jaina twirled her finger, tracing an icy pattern in the air in the shape of two numbers. Four and zero. It should be a significant milestone, but Jaina barely cared.
Happy birthday.
All it really meant was another year had passed. Nothing more, nothing less.
There was no one left to build her little ships, anyway.
Doubt. It was a feeling Sylvanas did not often experience. She was always sure of herself and she went into every situation confident in herself and those she chose to surround herself with.
And yet, she was experiencing doubt. At least, that was what she told herself she was feeling, when she thought about sending her wife on some mad mission to hunt down pirates.
As if either she or Jaina were without suspicion that there was more than simple piracy afoot.
Not doubt then. Worry.
It was a well known fact that a plan never survived contact with the enemy. Sylvanas was keenly aware of that from personal experience, just as she was aware of the dangers of sending her hostage into battle. If she lost Jaina, she lost her leverage. And lost at sea meant she'd be unable to enact her backup plan and raise her to remain at her side, as she had with Kalira.
An entirely selfless choice. For the good of the Horde.
Sylvanas watched as Varian chased a bug at the far end of the hold, leaning her chin on her hand as she brooded. Realizing he was being watched, he padded over, mewling conversationally before hopping into her lap.
She tolerated it, resting her hand on his back as he swatted at the arrow necklace. After the second attempt, Sylvanas dumped him off of her lap and yanked the necklace off. She dangled it in the air, watching the light reflect off of the gold as it spun slowly. The inscription burned into her retinas.
Warmth centered in her chest, and Sylvanas quickly squashed it with anger. "Foolish woman."
Sylvanas had lost everything. Her home. Her people. Feydori. Her mother. Even her sisters were lost to her, so much so they might as well be dead too.
There was a certain kind of loneliness to being the Banshee Queen. Her people, her true people looked at her as their savior, all but worshipping her like a goddess. Even those closest to her regarded her with wide-eyed awe.
It kept her apart from them, and most of the time she preferred that distance.
The other members of the Horde did not trust her. Sylvanas accepted that, knowing that in time they would come to understand that her goals and theirs aligned and that she was more than capable of guiding the Horde through anything. The compact was proof of that.
Underneath the hatred and anger that had wafted off of Jaina like a mist had been a palpable loneliness. Sylvanas would have said it was pathetic, except she would have been calling herself pathetic, too. Behind all the political considerations had been the simple fact that, despite what either of them might wish, they were in many ways kindred spirits.
Someone cleared their throat, and Sylvanas focused on the figure in the Hold, behind the dangling pendant. Jaina looked at her with concern. "It's almost time."
Sylvanas stood, closing the distance between them in two strides. She held the pendant up. "The words say be true."
Jaina searched her eyes. "I know. But I still don't know what they mean to you."
"Lift your hair," Sylvanas ordered, and clasped the necklace around Jaina's neck once she'd obeyed. She trailed her fingers down her throat and to where the pendant hung between her breasts, side to side with a silver anchor. "Bring this back, and perhaps I'll reward you with an explanation."
Face flushed, Jaina nodded, words seeming to fail her. She fell into step next to Sylvanas as they left the Hold, her knuckles brushing against Sylvanas's hand once or twice as they walked.
"You're nervous," Sylvanas said, observing her from the corner of her eyes. "You needn't be."
"We may find nothing. Or if we do the battle may not go well. It's not often Horde and Alliance fleets work together like this."
"I have every confidence that you will emerge victorious, my Lady of Orgrimmar." Sylvanas smiled to herself as she increased her pace. It was a stupid title, one that occasionally concerned her with its reminder of the way Jaina had somehow dug herself into the city like a tick. Yet it was strangely endearing.
"I should hate that title," Jaina murmured.
"Do you?"
Jaina considered Sylvanas's question for a moment. "No. I don't. It feels like a gift."
"You bear it proudly. I expect nothing less." Sylvanas gestured, waiting for Jaina to lead them to the dock. Slowly; Sylvanas wanted to enjoy her presence.
The Tempest had been outfitted with new sails and a crew that Jaina had handpicked. Most were Alliance, but she'd made a point of integrating Horde sailors and gunners as well.
Sylvanas eyed the ship impassively. "Not going to fly it to its destination?"
"Next time," Jaina promised, separating from Sylvanas to greet her mother and the commanders of the armada.
Sylvanas's hand brushed her elbow, too fleeting to catch her but long enough to make Jaina turn to look at her.
"What is it?"
"My wife is going to sea. Am I not entitled to a farewell kiss?"
It wasn't fair using Kul Tiran tradition against Jaina like this, but Sylvanas wasn't one to play fair. Besides, the gossip would spread quickly and provide some amusement for her in the interim.
Jaina's eyes narrowed fractionally, but she waited as Sylvanas approached. Sylvanas traced the back of her knuckles across Jaina's cheek, then pulled her face in.
The kiss was not what she'd intended originally. It was too soft, too tender, and it lingered too long. When she pulled away, she saw confusion and pain in Jaina's eyes and that warm, queasy feeling returned.
"Good luck." Sylvanas's voice was too rough, too thick and she hated it.
Jaina took her hand and squeezed it once. And then she turned with a flourish of her cloak and marched towards her ship.
Five days out from Orgrimmar and two days after picking up Defiant and Teledrassil's Fury, the armada ran into a squall. It wasn't the worst storm Jaina had ever seen, but she kept her eyes peeled; it would be the perfect weather for an ambush. Water lashed the deck, soaking her cloak and robe and almost freezing the fabric to her skin.
She'd tightened the formation into a diamond so as not to lose anyone as they passed through the storm. Dreadnaught took point, Defiant and Doomhammer's Legacy fanned out to port, with the Banshee's Wail taking the left point of the diamond. Dawnchaser was starboard and aft of the Dreadnaught, and Teledrassil's Fury took the right point. Jaina had made a conscious effort to keep the Kaldorei ship as far away from the Forsaken vessel as possible.
Tyrande's message in selecting that vessel had been pointed.
Tempest followed at the rear point of the diamond, where Jaina could keep an eye on the entire armada.
Despite her fears, they cleared the storm without incident, the sun breaking through the clouds as the morning ended. Jaina tilted her head up, closing her eyes and letting it warm her face as she inhaled the post-storm scent. She put her hand in her pocket, rubbing her thumb across the little doll Alami had given her. For luck.
"Admiral?"
Jaina opened her eyes, looking at the thin, scarred Kaldorei who she'd chosen to command her ship. "Captain Moonspray, flag the armada to resume formation. We're coming up on the area the pirates were last known to have attacked. I want eyes on the water for debris."
Moonspray nodded, hopping down the stairs and shouting orders as she went, midnight blue hair flowing behind her.
For the next several hours the armada followed what appeared to be a debris trail. A ship had been damaged, and that was really the only lead they had besides rumors and hearsay.
A distant shape on the horizon drew Jaina's eye. She flicked open her spyglass and looked through it. It was a ship, the older style favored by merchants and pirates alike and still in use by Stormwind's navy.
At this distance it was hard to tell who they were dealing with. The only thing Jaina could tell was that it had suffered significant damage. The hull was blackened in places, both masts splintered. The stern was low in the water.
Curiously, the crew had rigged up a white flag made from tatters of sail and painted a Kaldorei design onto it. "Captain, can you tell what that flag is?"
Captain Moonspray peered through her own glass, then lowered it, frowning. "It's an ancient signal flag. We haven't used it in centuries."
Jaina felt a tension headache building. "Do you know what it means?"
"It means Danger: Keep Away."
"So what you're saying is that that ship is bait."
"Yes, ma'am. They're trying to warn us."
Nodding, Jaina ordered. "Flag the rest of the armada. We can assume the Fury will have someone who's been around long enough to remember, but flag them anyway for good measure. There's no telling if that ship is rigged to explode or plagued, but I'm not springing this trap until we know what we're in for."
"Any other orders for the armada?"
Jaina grinned. "Order the Banshee's Wail to approach but not get too close. Shouting distance. If they're plagued, the crew is Forsaken."
The Forsaken could be immune to plague and most poisons but were maybe not immune to things exploding. Still, they could take more of a pounding than any of the living crews. It was a cold calculation; Sylvanas would be proud.
As the ships adjusted position, Jaina looked through her spyglass again, trying to read the name on the wounded ship's bow. Most of it had burned or blasted away, and even the figurehead was in bad shape.
She spotted someone, Kaldorei, jumping up onto the starboard railing near the stern, waving their arms at the approaching Forsaken ship.
Waving them away.
Cannonfire echoed across the water, the source obscured by the Forsaken ship. The Banshee's Wail shuddered and creaked, tacking hard to starboard as thick black smoke billowed into the air. Jaina strained to see what had attacked, but there was nothing there. "Find me the target!"
Water erupted between the Dawnchaser and Doomhammer's Legacy, and Jaina turned at the sound in time to witness a ship exploding out of the water at a forty-five degree angle. It splashed down between the two Horde vessels.
It was painted with black tar, water pouring out of holes all along the hull and dripping from the sails. A massive, pointed ram was positioned on the bow. Ports swiveled open to reveal thirty guns on the port side alone.
There was no way to fire on it without hitting Dawnchaser and Jaina watched in horror as fire shot from the cannons. The broadside ripped into both ships, shattering the masts on the Sin'dorei vessel and turning the wheelhouse into shrapnel. An explosion rippled through the ship as some of the shots found the magazine.
A flash of bright light blinded Jaina, thunder reverberating across the water. When her vision cleared, Dawnchaser was gone, replaced by a floating inferno.
This was no pirate. This was something else entirely. Jaina's helmsman spun the wheel, trying to give the Tempest's guns a clear shot at the target, but it quickly submerged.
Jaina took stock of the situation. The Wail and Legacy could still maneuver, but were vulnerable. Dawnchaser was … gone.
Water bubbled near Teledrassil's Fury, and Jaina ran to the side of her ship. Her spell froze the water, but the attacker emerged on the other side of the Kaldorei ship. They were ready for it, ship-mounted glaive throwers flinging the heavy siege ammunition into the black hull. A mage high up in the crow's nest flung flame down onto the black ship, the fire refused to catch.
The return broadside destroyed the Fury's mast and splintered the deck. But instead of submerging, the strange ship sailed hard towards the approaching Dreadnaught.
Jaina didn't need to finish her order before the Tempest swung around hard. If they were fast enough they could sandwich the pirate between the two Kul Tiran vessels.
"Give me full sail!" Jaina cast her spells, summoning up a frigid storm as she commanded a dozen water elementals to fold around the hull of her ship. The sails caught the magical wind and Tempest surged forward, hydroplaning on the backs of the elementals.
Defiant was responding to signals from the Dreadnaught, turning to face the black ship head on. The Alliance frigate had a massive chase cannon where a figurehead would normally go. The first shot splashed into the water on the starboard side of the advancing attacker, and the second tore a hole into the deck.
Spotting underwater movement too late, Jaina managed a few fireballs before a leviathan roared out of the water, tentacles wrapping around the Alliance frigate. Wood groaned in protest as it was crushed and torn asunder, and the Defiant was dragged down into the deeps.
Laughter echoed across the water. Jaina brought up her spyglass. A name had been scratched into the bow of their foe.
Wraith's Shadow.
Standing on the deck of the Wraith's Shadow was a tall man, dressed in a deep maroon coat. He wore a wide-brimmed hat and a half-mask over his face, the nose hooked like the beak of a carrion bird. He pointed at her, bellowing a challenge.
Jaina responded as the guns of the Tempest boomed. "Go to hell!"
The Dreadnaught fired a moment later, just as the Shadow's's broadside slammed into it. Jaina's heart went into her throat as the foremast of the Dreadnaught collapsed onto the deck.
Fire might not have worked, but Jaina knew a few spells that could maybe help turn the tide. Her concentration was interrupted when the railing nearby shattered. Wood cut deeply into Jaina's cheek, accompanied by a sharp pain in her side.
But she ignored both. To the south, something was swarming over Teledrassil's Fury.
Naga.
The Kaldorei were holding their own, but Jaina didn't know how much longer they could last. The ship wouldn't stay afloat for much longer; and once in the water, the crew wouldn't stand a chance against Naga.
She grabbed for Moonspray's arm. "Order Legacy and the Wail to aid the Fury. Once the crew is rescued, they're to retreat."
"If that leviathan returns, we're in for it. And I don't think that ship will let them go either."
The Wraith's Shadow had submerged again. Where it would attack was anyone's guess; would it continue to attack the strongest ships, or pick off the damaged ones first?
"Your orders?"
"Have the guns ready. And captain? You're really not going to like what I'm about to do." Jaina's eyes hardened and she twirled her hands in circles, arcane energy flowing from her. A bubble engulfed the Tempest.
Moonspray grabbed onto the nearest rope as the ship took a sharp dive into the water. "Times like this I'm glad you're on our side."
Smiling, Jaina propelled the ship on a localized current of water elementals. "When we find the Shadow, I'll freeze it in place. Then we're going to make sure it never surfaces again."
Someone shouted as figures burst through the bubble and landed on deck. A Naga's trident impaled an Orc sailor, flinging him overboard and into the waiting maws of a shark.
There was nothing Jaina could do; she had to concentrate on keeping Tempest going. She wasn't even sure she had the energy to spare to freeze the Wraith's Shadow. But she'd have to try.
Turning the ship, Jaina closed her eyes, listening with her magic for the passage of something large through the water.
Drawing her sword, Moonspray called out. "We can't let them get to the guns! Varja, on me! Protect the Admiral!"
A grey-skinned Draenei rushed past, wrapping a whip of lava around a Naga and yanking him into her waiting hammer, crushing his skull. Jaina tuned out the rest of the battle on the deck. She could hear the Wraith's Shadow moving through the water now, and it was close.
Jaina abruptly changed course, swinging the ship hard to port as the Wraith's Shadow shot towards the surface. The ram on the front of it pierced the side of Dreadnaught and the momentum split the battleship in half.
The Tempest burst out of the water next to the Wraith's Shadow as spears of ice locked the other ship in place.
Moonspray's broadside was crippling.
Enraged at the sight of the remains of the Dreadnaught, Jaina sprinted across the deck and leapt over to the enemy ship. There seemed to be no other crew than the captain, and he was waiting for her. If she didn't want him alive, she would have killed him where he stood.
Instead, she froze him to the deck. "You have a lot of crimes to answer for."
He said nothing, simply staring at her from behind his mask. Cautiously, Jaina approached, and reached for the mask.
A shadowy tendril wrapped around her hand and yanked her off her feet. She skidded across the deck as the captain broke free. And then he started to change, a dark energy rippling through him, his laugh echoing in Jaina's ears. In a raspy voice, he said. "There's always a price. Are you prepared to pay it?"
Thick tendrils burst through the deck, cracking the wood and lashing at the masts. One crashed down towards the Tempest as another pierced the deck between her legs. Jaina rolled out of the way, running for her ship as the deck heaved beneath her feet. She called to the sea; as Jaina swung back to the Tempest, the two ships were pried apart by dozens of water elementals.
She released them, staring at the Wraith's Shadow as the tentacles crushed and twisted the ship, pulling it beneath the waves.
"The Naga have retreated." Moonspray approached her cautiously. "Doomhammer's Legacy is being scuttled and Teledrassil's Fury won't last much longer either. Banshee's Wail is taking everyone on."
Exhaling sharply, Jaina nodded, finding solace in her anger. "There will be others in the water from the Dreadnaught and Defiant. We're not leaving until we've pulled every last survivor on board."
The Banshee's Wail slid up alongside Tempest. Jaina looked across at the other ship, where Nathanos and Tattersail stood. Nathanos looked irritated, an expression that only grew more sour when Jaina inclined her head and gave him a vicious smile.
Maybe next time, Blightcaller.
"Admiral." Moonspray put her hand on Jaina's side. Jaina looked down, seeing a piece of wood sticking out of her stomach.
Huh.
She grasped it and yanked it out, freezing the wound with her magic. Through gritted teeth, she ordered. "Get us moving, my mother and the others are in the water and there might still be Naga around!"
She prayed they were still alive. They'd lost enough people today.