I dedicate this to GrimGrave, my fabulous beta and friend. Thank you for being you. For anyone interested, I'm accepting commissions. PM me for more information and thank you for your support!
The song inspiration is called Bloodstain by Wrabel (Galantis Remix).
-Darling, I'm Alright-
Tyrande strode past a dwelling that stood at odds with the vibrant fauna surrounding it with a nervous glance. She wasn't a fan of confrontation and being seen meant just that, so she focused on maintaining quick, quiet steps over the emerald turf. Unfortunately, this was the only route to her destination; otherwise she'd have given the place a wide berth.
Why the cantankerous Banshee insisted on living in the woodland area afforded to the more peaceable Nexus warriors, she'd never understand.
As soon as she'd placed enough distance between herself and the woman's front walk, Tyrande breathed a sigh of relief and continued on with a spring in her step. She hadn't had a chance to visit her dear friend, Jaina, with the start of the new tournament season, but she liked to keep tabs on the sorceress. It wasn't as though someone as magically inclined as the blonde needed to be monitored, but, well, Tyrande knew her situation better than anyone.
No one should have to experience the death of a lover and Jaina had not once, but twice. She hid it well, but the hurt still lingered and Tyrande worried for her.
Arthas, in his commitment to protecting his people from the plague, had lost his soul and become the reviled Lich King, was as good as dead to her. Kalecgos and Jaina had separated on good terms, and had still spoken to one another even after they were no longer romantically entangled. Shortly after, Kalec became a casualty during the bombing of Theramore and watching a man she called friend slain before her eyes had been the final straw.
Jaina had erected walls around her heart that were more effective than the element she'd chosen to wield here in the Nexus at freezing people out. Some days Tyrande feared the sorceress would wall herself in completely and she could scarcely call herself a friend if she sat idly by and allowed that to happen. And Jaina didn't want it to come to that, if the brief glimpses she'd gotten into that wounded heart were anything to go by. It was harder and smaller than it had been before the string of tragedies that had bereft her of her first significant other—and certainly before the second one—but she wasn't always able to reign in the emotion and the desire for closeness that leaked from it.
Like a bloodstain, these moments spoke of hurt but also an attempt at healing.
Jaina looked up at the sound of the door to her flat opening downstairs. Only one other person had access to her home away from home and, sure enough, she heard the Night Elf inquire, "Where are you, Jaina?"
Been in and out of love since I was 19
She uncurled her feet from under her, wincing at the way her muscles protested. How long had she been sitting here, anyway, lost in thought? The time piece on her mantle said it was well into the afternoon as she joined Tyrande in the sitting room.
She must have lost track of time.
If Tyrande's expression was anything to go by, she must have looked about as good as she felt, but the Night Elf didn't comment as she closed the gap between them and wrapped an arm around Jaina's shoulders. "Have you eaten?"
"No."
"I'll make us lunch. Will you come and keep me company?"
Jaina had to fight back tears as she nodded. Theramore's bombing had happened months ago-a small eternity—yet she still felt frozen in that moment. She wasn't sure how to even begin to set her life back into motion and had it not been for Tyrande's careful attention, she likely would have been a shell of her former self.
Well, more so than she was now.
Opening my heart has left a bloodstain
She allowed herself to be sat down at the counter and watched as the Night Elf went around the kitchen, gathering up ingredients. Tyrande mumbled to herself as she sorted through cupboards and the refrigerator (lovely piece of machinery, that), taking note of what needed to be replenished. It was incredible what sort of technology was available to them in this realm, but she was learning quickly.
"You're too good to me."
"Nonsense."
In no time at all, Tyrande had put together two spring salads, one of which she set down in front of Jaina.
She stared until the sorceress began to eat and, though she had only taken a bite to satiate her friend, Jaina's hunger got the best of her and before she realized it, she had cleared her plate.
It turned out the second helping was for her as well.
"How are you holding up?" Tyrande asked. She didn't sit next to the mage, but rather leaned against the counter.
"..."
And I don't know how to make a man stay
/ 'The ashes of the Cataclysm have settled across Azeroth's disparate kingdoms.'
Jaina swore under her breath as her smarting wrist and throbbing temples reminded her that, even as the most powerful human sorceress alive, she had her limits. But still, she pressed onward.
They had known this attack was coming after Northwatch Hold had fallen. Jaina had rallied her advisors and they had seemed confident in their defenses—particularly when the former Blue Dragonflight Aspect had offered his aid. No one had expected the ferocity displayed by the Horde under the war banner of Garrosh Hellscream and the Alliance was still trying to rally together. Jaina feared it was far too late for that; Theramore's forces had been routed despite all their training, and the Horde's greater numbers had made quick work of any soldier that hadn't fallen back quickly enough.
...!
Jaina leaped backwards and not a moment too late: the curved blade of an impossibly large broadaxe sent cracks through the earth where she'd been standing. A massive green orc bared his teeth in a vicious grin and his next series of lightning quick swings made the axe look light as she struggled to evade them. A barrage of icey missiles is reduced to a cloud of glittering dust and, before she could summon fire to her fingertips, her back met cold flagstone.
Jaina's focus had shifted for only a moment and, just like that, she was cornered. The orc raised a meaty arm, axe poised to strike—
A pale skinned Night Elf appeared at her side and strong arms gathered her up. They were a blur of motion and Pained murmured, "I leave your side for a moment and you get yourself in peril."
"Heh."
A wave of bright blue flames licked along the ground and washed over the rearing orc, reducing it to ash with a howl of pain. Then, a blue-scaled dragon landed in the spot the creature had just stood, sending up a plume of fresh ash. The beast's scaly bulk melted into the form of a tall male with long dark blue hair and eyes the same striking colour of the sky.
"Kalecgos." It was unsettling how much she'd missed him during the couple days span when he'd set out to retrieve the Focusing Iris, and seeing him now made her stomach flutter.
The blue Dragonflight smiled, though the expression was somewhat strained. "Are you two alright?"
"I'm fine."
"Thank you, Master Kalecgos. Please watch milady; I shall return shortly. Kinndy requires my assistance." The Night Elf bowed deeply, then darted off in the direction of Jaina's apprentice.
Kalecgos slipped a blue-tinted phial from a pouch on his belt and held it towards her. Jaina accepted it with a grateful smile. Just one swig lessened her headache and she moved to share it with him, but Kalecgos waved her away. "Please fall back to the ramparts, Jaina. I wouldn't know what to do if something were to happen to you."
"I'm fine," she repeated. The commotion around them was a low roar while she was being examined by those depthless eyes. "Truly, Kal."
At the nickname, something flickered behind his gaze and quirked the corners of his mouth. The strain from before faded somewhat and it felt like someone had taken hold of her heart and squeezed gently.
"Take care." A strong, warm hand clasped Jaina's cheek and she leaned into the touch. Then, he was gone. /
Jaina didn't realize she'd started crying until Tyrande embraced her. She buried her face in the Night Elf's bosom, sobs wracking her slender frame, and Tyrande rubbed her back.
That had been the last time she'd seen Kalec or Pained or Kinndy, her dear friends and allies. How could she have known that a Mana bomb of unimaginable proportions would detonate and raze Theramore? The rage she'd felt in the aftermath... it had consumed her much in the way the tidal wave she'd summoned with the help of the Focusing Iris had swallowed up Orgrimmar. At the time, the surge of righteousness following her retribution had felt divine. And now she just felt empty.
"I'm sorry, Jaina. If I could remove this weight from your shoulders, I would."
Jaina had no trouble believing that—not from Tyrande, her oldest and most faithful ally.
"Apologies... *Sniff* I'm a fool."
"You are..." She gave Jaina a squeeze. "For bottling it up like that and not expecting to burst at some point."
Maybe I've been putting my heart out in the wrong way
Gods above, her chest ached. If Tyrande hadn't been holding her, she would have broken down again. "I don't know if I can do this."
"It helps to have someone to lean on. You may use me as a handkerchief if you wish."
"Hah... Thank you. Truly."
"No need." The Night Elf used the hem of her blouse to dry Jaina's face and it was all she could do to not to start crying again. "Now how about I have some snacks delivered and we can cuddle and watch a moo-vie?"
They still weren't entirely comfortable with the technology in this universe, but it certainly had its merits.
Jaina smiled, albeit weakly. "Are you able to read minds?"
She winked. "I've learned a thing or two over the centuries."
...
Jaina felt guilty for dwelling on the past when Tyrande was with her-something she'd promised she wouldn't do—but she couldn't help the disparaging thoughts that assailed her.
What if? It was a simple question and yet it had myriad possible answers.
What if she had stayed by Kalecgos's side? Would they have been able to overcome whatever had struck him down together?
What if she had joined Pained and Kinny? Would she have been able to protect them from the mana bomb's blast?
What if she had listened to Kalecgos's plea and fallen back? Would they, too, have retreated to a safer location and survived as a result? That question, above all, crushed her under the paralytic weight of guilt and sorrow.
What if, what if, what if, what if, what if—
"Jaina."
The sorceress flinched and it took her mind a moment to resurface in the present. "Yes?"
"Someone is at the door."
As if to confirm that statement, a sharp series of knocks followed, echoing through the house's wood frame.
'Who could that be?'
Jaina rolled out of bed and went back downstairs with Tyrande at her heels. There was an ashen-skinned undead Elf standing in her doorway, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. The scarlet hood that partially obscured her features did nothing to diminish the hellish glow of the eyes that shone from beneath its cowl. "It took you long enough."
She was already not happy to see the leader of the Forsaken and her tone made Jaina bristle. It was
Tyrande's calming presence that kept her from attempting to scorch the archer. Not that the limitations in this realm between worlds would have allowed her to, but she'd try her damndest. Seeing Sylvanas tore open fresh wounds, the ache of which could only be dulled by rage and violence.
"To what do I owe this... Pleasure?"
"What the hell happened to you?"
What did she mean? Jaina glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of herself in the mirror hanging in the entryway: her hair, normally a golden blonde was almost silver in colour except for the single strip of originally coloured strands that fell into her face. When had that happened? Perhaps the grief she felt had spurred physiological changes when compounded by the amount of arcane energy she'd unleashed at once...
And I'm bleeding
Sylvanas scoffed. She was staring beyond Jaina. "Am I interrupting something?"
'Huh?' Jaina followed that smouldering gaze back to Tyrande and realized that the Night Elf had the tousled look of someone who'd been rolling around in bed. Chances were, the mage wasn't faring much better.
"State your business," Tyrande pressed, coming to her rescue.
"The wretched delivery service almost beat my door down with provisions for your dwelling." She tossed a supply droid onto the porch where it whirred feebly, her lips twisted into a sneer. "Be grateful that I didn't simply destroy it."
"Thanks." Jaina stooped to rescue the machine before Sylvanas changed her mind. By the time she straightened, the Dark Lady had disappeared on a ghastly shroud of dark energy.
"Those are likely the snacks I ordered. I apologise, I must have addressed it incorrectly—Jaina?"
Tyrande was quick to support the blonde as she swayed, her vision blurring with unshed tears. Damn the Forsaken. Damn their arrogant leader and the damage she had wrought. What were the odds that they'd meet in this world, too?
The Night Elf's voice was far away as she instructed the delivery droid and Jaina allowed herself to be lead back upstairs. She felt like a child as she was disrobed and tucked in, her tears wiped away with a damp cloth. Tyrande even went the extra mile to feed her figs as the moving picture continued, shushing the sorceress when she protested.
And, while glowing white eyes were fixated on the screen, Jaina's own gaze remained on the Night Elf.
Jaina instinctively cuddled closer to her bedmate as she calmed. She was struck by the attentiveness of Tyrande's ministrations and though she felt guilty for enjoying the attention, she couldn't deny the warmth that bloomed beneath her breast. This was as close to "normal" as she had felt in weeks.
"Thank you again, Tyrande..."
"Mm?" Tyrande stretched indolently, turning on her side so that she was looking at the blonde. Her mannerisms resembled that of a plump house cat and Jaina failed to stifle a giggle. "What's so funny?"
"You seem comfortable."
"Mhm." The arms that encircled her were warm, strong, and Jaina melted into the embrace. The Night Elf smelled earthy, a subtle and gentle fragrance that suited her personality. It was harmless-two friends simply sharing closeness. Which was why the blonde was having difficulty deciphering the maelstrom of emotions that flooded her the longer they remained entwined.
Jaina held her breath when Tyrande rested her forehead against hers. She didn't dare move even though brilliant blue orbs were shut and the woman breathed slowly and evenly as though she had drifted off. The Night Elf was kind, sure... but she mustn't take advantage of that kindness. Kissing Tyrande Whisperwind was out of the question and the desire to do so caught her entirely off-guard.
But I'm alright with it...
The stern visage of Tyrande's husband filled Jaina's mind's eye and the guilt that flooded through her as a result made her cringe.
'What am I doing?'
"Jaina?" Burning blue eyes were open now and the weight of her searching gaze was paralytic. "Where did you go just now?"
"I'm here." It was almost inaudible.
"How are you feeling?" Jaina nearly jumped out of her skin when a gentle hand touched her cheek and Tyrande frowned. "Apologies."
She couldn't allow the Night Elf to feel as though she had done some wrong when she hadn't. Especially not when Tyrande had done so much for her—not just today, but over the course of their friendship. Without thinking, Jaina covered Tyrande's hand with her own, holding it in place.
Tyrande's expression was unreadable as her thumb traced the curve of Jaina's jaw. The mage leaned into the contact, her eyelids fluttering shut. She missed this sort of tenderness and proximity with another person. It felt like it had been years since she'd experienced such warm, genuine affection.
"May I kiss you?"
She couldn't have heard that right. Jaina opened her eyes, blinking when she noticed just how close Tyrande's face was to hers. The Night Elf's expression was deadly serious.
"What?" It came out as a croak, her throat suddenly dry.
"I would like to kiss you, Jaina."
There was no mistaking it this time.
The mage flushed, leaning away from the Night Elf but ultimately doing nothing to place distance between them. Yet. "You shouldn't."
The hand went from her jaw to her waist, skimming fingertips along her side. The touch left little sparks of heat in its wake even through her clothing. "Do you want me to?"
It was all she could think about now. How had she never noticed how full the Night Elf's lips were?
"I... What about Malfurion?"
"I've shared my bed more frequently with you than I have with him," Tyrande husked, her fingertips drawing warm, maddening patterns over Jaina's hip. "Our union is political. Nothing more."
Darling I'm alright with it
It had been hard to watch someone so strong suffer, but she intended to rectify it if Jaina was willing. Still, the sorceress seemed to be holding back. The light in her gaze smoldered, but her body language said otherwise. Tyrande needed her to be certain that this was what Jaina wanted-that she was what Jaina wanted.
"Why now?" she asked quietly.
"I don't pity you, if that's what you're thinking." Tyrande hooked a finger under Jaina's chin, angling her gaze upwards. "You are very dear to me, Jaina, and I hate to see you suffer. That is all."
Her eyes shone. "As are you to me, Tyrande."
"Then I see no issue with us acting upon that bond, do you? Affection shared between two people, no matter the age, race, or gender, is a beautiful thing." Jaina shook her head minutely and Tyrande leaned in. She stopped just shy of Jaina's mouth, their lips brushing as she asked, "Are you certain, Jaina? I don't want to push you."
Gods above, every time she leaned forward, Tyrande would shift away just a bit to maintain what little space was between them.
"I want this..."
A kiss—this one to the corner of her mouth. Jaina trembled, frustration stemming from thwarted desire.
"And you will speak with me about whatever troubles you?"
"Yes."
Another kiss, this one to the opposite corner. When Jaina groaned, Tyrande chuckled.
"And you will start eating proper meals? You've gotten so thin..."
"Tyrande." Ah, there was a flash of the old Jaina in the fiery light glinting in stormy eyes. Proud. Strong.
The Night Elf took great pleasure in knowing she had drawn it out of the sorceress. "Yes, darling?"
I'm bleeding out
Jaina reached up, sinking her hands into luxurious green locks and pulling Tyrande in so that their lips met. She moaned quietly, eagerly, the Night Elf's lips proving to be just as soft as they appeared, and the gap that created was readily taken advantage of by a talented tongue.
Gods, she tasted good.
Jaina's hands roamed, first across a delicately shaped sternum and then over slender, powerful shoulders. She traced her fingertips along Tyrande's arms then up her sides, swallowing the moan the Night Elf released when she tickled along the curve of her breasts.
Emboldened, Jaina slipped a hand into the Night Elf's blouse and palmed a full breast. The soft warmth of Tyrande's skin, mixed with the way she shivered and pushed herself into Jaina's palm made the sorceress moan quietly. She was quick to unbutton the blouse, fumbling in her eagerness, and Tyrande purred as she laid a trail of kisses along the column of the dark-skinned woman's throat. She did away with the brassier and wrapped her lips around a dusky nipple, applying suction, and Tyrande petted silver locks, encouraging her with soft sounds of approval.
Jaina lost herself in the taste and scent of the Night Elf's skin, using lips and tongue to dole out pleasure. When she sat back to assess her handiwork, she was floored by the raw desire in glowing orbs.
Tyrande pushed Jaina on to her back and straddled her waist, her hair falling around her face like a dark curtain. Jaina felt the weight of that burning gaze like a physical touch as it roamed.
"Tyrande..." Was that sex-soaked rasp her voice?
The Night Elf pressed a searing kiss to Jaina's lips as she shifted, nudging apart willing thighs. The friction of a deceptively slender thigh pressing against Jaina's core made the woman buck and wine. She was hot all over and Tyrande made her hotter still with every lingering touch and twitch of her hip.
But I'm alright with it
For what would surely be an embarrassing moment later, Jaina considered just riding the Night Elf's thigh to completion like a bitch in heat, her hormone-addled mind desperate for release. Knowing fingers found purchase on her hips, encouraging the rocking motion she'd adopted, and she shivered ecstatically. It hadn't been that long since she'd been intimate with another. Longer than she would have liked, certainly-but still!
The mage stubbornly reigned herself in, her stormy gaze becoming less unfocused as she concentrated on the sting of teeth at the column of her throat. She was a proud sorceress and not some horny teen. She could withstand a bit of foreplay without melting into a pool of goo.
Tyrande murmured something into her ear that could have been encouragement, long fingers once again finding spots on her body she had no idea were erogenous zones, and Jaina's resolve wavered. Was she too proud to beg for mercy?
The Night Elf flicked her tongue across a pert pink nipple before drawing it into her mouth. A low, pleased sound caused a curious vibration, but Jaina didn't have time to dwell on it as Tyrande curved her fingers, slicking through the wetness that had gathered at the apex of Jaina's thighs and rubbing up against a sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Tyrande...!"
...
In the afterglow, Tyrande broke the silence with a husky chuckle.
"I am over ten thousand years of age. Call me an old fool for missing my opportunity to do this sooner."
Jaina's eyebrows rose. She'd known her friend was immortal, but she'd never sat down and done the math. She was a mere babe in comparison.
"Shall I call you Nana?"
"In doing so, you forfeit your life," Tyrande said solemnly. "In any case, I'm not the one who's graying. It looks lovely on you," she added when Jaina raised a self-conscious hand to her hair.
Darling I'm alright with it.
Jaina would have laughed, but the hand that dipped below the covers to toy with the wetness between her legs made her moan instead. How did Tyrande already know her body so well; to play her like a finely tuned instrument, strumming from her depths of carnal pleasure and illicit utterances.
"We have much lost time to make up for."
"*Ah...!*"
What was another sleepless night when spent so... Stimulatingly?
...
Jaina awoke in a panic, her heart hammering beneath her breast when she realized her bed was empty. Had the night before been a dream-a phantasm created by the loneliness and guilt the bombing had left in its wake? The desolate pang that resonated through her very core was somehow more poignant than when she'd found out that Kalecgos had been slain and the outpouring of energy caused the air to shimmer.
The bedroom door opened slowly, quietly-as if to avoid waking her-and Tyrande let herself in before closing it just as quietly behind her.
Jaina was upon her in an instant, burying her face in the Night Elf's bosom.
"I had to relieve myself." The glow of Tyrande's eyes was impossibly gentle as she half-carried her bedmate back to bed—as if she could sense the mage's unease. She didn't question the embrace as she wrapped her arms around the shivering mage, silently offering comfort when Jaina needed it.
Like she always did.
It's just a bloodstain.
-Fin-