The teleportation spell faded away from Jaina's view and the wood and stone of her tower was replaced by mossy rocks and colossal tree trunks around them. Jaina blinked to get used to the different light. There was so much to take in but right before her were first and foremost the night elves' archdruid and finest – in Jaina's opinion at least – priestess of the moon. And also –
"Fluffyyy!" Jaina cried and spread her arms wide with a big smile.
The second after she was bowled over when a hurricane of thick white-and-black fuzziness leapt on her and turned midway in the air to shield her from the ground with its front legs. Theramore's archmage proceeded to return the hug and burrowed her face into the soft fur of the frostsaber's throat.
"Hello to you as well, Jaina." Tyrande Whisperwind said warmly from somewhere behind them. She sounded very amused. "Surely you do remember her proper name?"
"Yes, She-Who-Has-A-Chilly-Nose." Jaina looked up and put her own nose against that of the frostsaber. "But she hasn't – hey!"
Fluffy looked just as amused as her elf when she cut Jaina's speaking short by licking her over the chin.
"Teluriathenelle'ricanor." Tyrande intoned. "Which in Common translates roughly to She-Whose-Nose-Is-Caressed-By-The-Chilly-Night-Breeze."
"It's obvious how she prefers 'Fluffy'." Jaina said and in all fairness tried to get up again and out of the frostsaber paws.
"Teluria, let your cub get up so I may greet her properly."
Fluffy finally set Jaina down on the ground and rolled back on her feet. Jaina tried to brush herself off and straighten out her robes. On second thought maybe she hadn't quite acted like city rulers were supposed to act when visiting foreign states. Even though Jaina's view of diplomatic conduct could maybe be said to have been somewhat skewed by recent events.
"Hello, Tyrande. Hello, Malfurion." she said almost shyly. She was aware of the incredulous way Pained looked at her.
But Pained had not been around last time.
Tyrande embraced her hard enough that it was almost like she had been a dark ranger captain.
"Jaina, how good it is to see you."
"What has happened to your back?" Malfurion whispered when it was his turn.
"L-later." Jaina stammered. She could not believe this – she had meticulously picked a high collar robe that would not reveal so much as a patch of damaged skin. Was it something in her posture? The posture you held when wrestling with the priestess' frostsaber, that is.
Or maybe it was just fifteen thousand years' worth of druid experience talking. Yes, that maybe could play a tiny part. An inconvenient part.
"Of course. Whenever you feel is the right time." Malfurion said as the personification of patience. Jaina looked for something else to talk about.
"You have something in your hair..." she noted and picked out a bough from the long dark blue curtain hanging from the archdruid's head. "Is that a druid thing?"
"No, perish the thought, boughs are completely out of season." Jaina was sure that Malfurion picked up on her insistent wish to change the subject. "In autumn it is of course leaves that we adorn ourselves with. And twigs, those always work."
He put his arm around Jaina's shoulder – carefully avoiding coming into contact with her back – and bowed close to her ear like someone about to share a secret in confidence.
"Can you believe that I was pounced by a wild beast on the way here?" Malfurion looked between Jaina and Pained like they would obviously agree with him that there was no end to what the woods were becoming like these days. "Fierce and feral, it must have been in heat or something like that…"
Tyrande jabbed him in the stomach and Jaina tried not to giggle or blush. She was not quite successful. Pained meanwhile looked…pained, and a little like she wanted to silently excuse herself to Jaina on behalf of her kin.
"I am not apologising for anything. We got here on time." Tyrande concluded primly. "With all the beauty sleep my fair druid has accumulated over the years I have better make the most of it while there is time."
"It is these early risers that cause so much trouble in the world – would you not agree, Jaina?" Malfurion countered blithely while they walked together along a mossy pathway.
"Yes, absolutely!" Jaina nodded fervently while Pained scoffed.
"Sleepy spellcasters…" Tyrande agreed with the bodyguard. "Lazy, aren't they?"
"Quite right, priestess."
The location where Jaina had landed herself and Pained was nothing special in terms of buildings or otherwise. It was simply an open spot that Jaina knew she could describe accurately to the others. On one side was a cliff and a wide view over forested ridges below. The other side led deeper in underneath the canopy of trees through lush grass and moss. It was oddly warm for the season considering what Jaina knew of the latitude of Ashenvale.
Their path took them to a clearing where another striking creature waited. It was an enormous stag with majestic horns who trotted over to Malfurion and Pained.
"I have to keep up with Tyrande somehow, she gets insufferable when she always gets somewhere the fastest." Malfurion joked while speaking in Darnassian to his mount.
Pained did so too, and from the smattering of the language Jaina knew she thought it was something along the lines of 'how you have grown'. Apparently Pained and the stag knew each other from before because she stroked with familiarity along his head while he craned it half over and half around Pained like he was protecting her.
Jaina's stalwart guardian looked so much softer than when Jaina otherwise saw her. Except possibly for the times when Jaina had been having nightmares and disturbed Pained with her troubled sleep. Never a word of complaint.
Just like Sylvanas had been.
"Hop on." Malfurion suggested, and took no refusal. "You need to work on your riding skills."
Jaina for her part needed no coaxing to climb onto Fluffy's back.
Tyrande and Malfurion led the way with their respective mounts trailing behind them.
"So, Tyrande, do you now have a stag party?" Jaina said and couldn't stop herself.
Three confounded faces turned in her direction.
"It's a very human expression." she explained while looking at Malfurion's antlers. "Hard to translate precisely."
Ashenvale was filled with ruins, and memories of the ancient Kaldorei empire. In that it was similar to Lordaeron. But Ashenvale had made peace with its ruins and its past. Moss climbed the overturned columns and found a place to flourish in the withering stone. Rodents made their home under old masonry overgrown with vines.
The night elves had not been pushed away by their forest but voluntarily taken a step back and let it regrow. Works of nature and of elven craftsmanship grew into one another and out of one another. There was a hard-to-define serenity over everything that Jaina had grown fond of from the first moment.
Unfortunately Jaina's stupid mind would note that now would be an excellent time to bring Tyrande and Malfurion up to date on all every sad and hard-to-speak-of thing that had happened since they last saw each other. Since they were riding calmly and alone on the path and Jaina ample opportunity to go through the past year at her own pace.
"You…er…maybe Pained…wouldn't happen to have written about what happened in Theramore earlier this year? In spring?" Jaina begun glumly.
"She did." Tyrande dropped back so she walked right next to Jaina and Fluffy. Malfurion followed on his side.
"I was concerned and I did not know you as well as I do now. I had little experience with humans so I was unsure of how to act or best help you." Pained confessed. She sounded uncomfortable. "I am sorry if I overstepped My L – Jaina."
"No, no, it's common knowledge anyway…" Jaina sighed.
She breathed deeply a few times and blinked a few others. And hoped in vain that no one would notice it.
A small thud was all that announced that Tyrande had effortlessly jumped onto Fluffy's back behind her.
"I am not looking." the priestess of the moon whispered tenderly, which only made it twice as hard to blink that thing in her eyes away.
"My father and his fleet had been searching for me all across Lordaeron the year before. At the earliest possible time after the winter he set sail towards Kalimdor. They discovered Theramore in early March." Jaina broke to search for words. "I was overjoyed at first. I was so proud of what we had built there, of what we had accomplished, and how we had managed to make allies out of the orcs of all peoples. I wanted to show him everything. But he wouldn't listen. He never listened to what I actually said, or cared. As soon I mentioned the orcs it was like…like some door closed…"
"Much ill will against their kind lingers among our people. I can only imagine that your father must have found those of similar mind, given your people's long conflict with the orcs." Malfurion said.
"Yes. My father…the thing is, he was a hero. A legend of the Second War. People cheered in the streets at the sight of the crest on his sails. And when…when I told him we lived next to the new home of the Horde he just nodded grimly, like if I had told him we were beleaguered or starving from a blockade or something. He considered them to be vermin, a plague. But they aren't like that. And the general view of the Kirin Tor that they are dumb brutes easily and willingly misled by demonic overlords…that one isn't true either. There is so much more to it."
"It took a courageous archmage, and a persistent prophet, to bring us all together in the end. For however brief that moment was, it was a proud moment."
"Yes. And I can't honestly say I would ever have thought of reaching out in earnest to the Horde if it hadn't happened like it did. But it did, and I'm glad I met Thrall if nothing else. And Cairne and all his rumbling tauren." Jaina sighed. "But none of it matted to my father. To him, finding me was good, and finding the hidden nest of the Horde was even better. Now he could stamp out the infestation of the world and exterminate them all."
Jaina realised how bitter she sounded and stopped herself. There was no reason to be unpleasant to Pained or Tyrande or Malfurion. It wasn't their fault. Tyrande, all too perceptive, started drawing slow circles on Jaina's back with her palm.
"At your own time, Jaina…"
"You can guess the rest. I suppose that my words had at least moved my father enough that when he begun hunting the orcs down he did not tell me and I learned the full extent of what was going on only when Thrall and Rexxar – Thrall's scout and aide – brought news to me and I investigated myself. Every word I said fell on deaf ears and my city would not side with orcs against the Alliance. So I did that on my own, and my help allowed Thrall to sabotage and sink the greater part of the High Sea Fleet – Kul Tiras' pride – and storm Theramore and kill Admiral Daelin Proudmoore."
Jaina had nothing more to say. She tried to make a half-hearted shrug but it became more like some vague cringing movement.
"You aided Thrall on the condition that he would spare as many as he could and do as little damage to your city as possible." Pained reminded her. "From what I have understood he honoured that bargain."
"Bargain…" Jaina mumbled. Factually right, but such…such a crude term. Dealing in lives like they were shipments or wagonloads of simple goods.
There. Now it was out. And now Tyrande and Malfurion could express their disgust or disappointment with her and the rest of the outlander savages that they must seem like.
Or not.
"Poor child." Tyrande spoke quietly and not even Jaina could detect any judgement in her tone.
"You did your best to preserve as many lives as you could in an impossible situation."
"At the cost of my own father's life."
"Yes." Malfurion simply said.
Jaina wanted to pick something up and throw. Was that all there was to it? Could people just…just accept everything like that? Wasn't that making all the loss and all the sorrow and all the injustice of those deaths lesser? Like a negligible, insignificant thing?
Instead of reaching for a rock or stick she found warm frostsaber fur against her palm.
She couldn't grab and throw Fluffy of course.
She smoothed out the patch of fur. None of this was Fluffy's fault.
The forest stood high and still and calm around them, not minding whoever was walked under its colossal branches.
It was not indifferent. It was just there. It made no judgement of those that passed through it.
"Jaina. We wrote to you early in the year, warning you about the naga we had begun to encounter close to the coast. Did that letter reach you?" Malfurion disturbed her sullen silence.
"The – yes, it did. We've not seen anything like the naga in Theramore though."
"I hope you never will. What followed shortly afterwards was far more dire and dangerous than we had any idea of. Instead of an internal feud we found ourselves on a wild and tangled hunt across the sea along with our senior warden, Maiev Shadowsong, that took us all the way to Lordaeron of all places."
"Wh – what?! You have been to Lordaeron?"
"Indeed. A sorrowful place, it was. Had that journey not kept us occupied we would of course have helped you, if we could."
Jaina slumped. She didn't know what a delegation of night elves could really have done to change her father's mind, but perhaps they could have bought herself more time. Trapping the ships in heaps of kelp and the marine infantry in roots, perhaps. And Tyrande could have tracked them and warned the orcs in the vicinity. Who could say for sure?
It was not their fault. Just as little as anything was Pained's fault.
And just maybe it wasn't quite so much Jaina's fault either.
She had messed upp Fluffy's fur coat again. But she thought that Fluffy probably didn't mind after all. Because she was the kindest frostsaber you could ever imagine.
Jaina's past just…it just was.
But right now no one else was judging her for it. And if she should keep herself from doing that she needed something else to talk about.
"I didn't know there were things like feuds between night elves. Not in the way that would lead to fighting."
"Our own people are not without its fair share of internal strife. You should hear the tale of Queen Azshara one day."
"That was long ago, wasn't it?"
"Yes, rather long ago. I think your race may have discovered fire at the time but I am not sure." Tyrande tried to tease and Jaina tried to wave it away. "Speaking of more recent things I personally violated some of our most ancient laws when I set Illidan Stormrage free again, and when doing so raised arms against his wardens. Earlier this year Illidan shook the very bedrock of Azeroth with his schemes, yet still Malfurion let him escape after he had helped save me. So there is some Kaldorei lawbreaking for you, that pains my heart deeply to have comitted but which I can not say I would not do again if faced with similar circumstances."
While Jaina had gotten to know enough to be aware that the night elves were not always the way they appeared outward, she still had a hard time picturing Tyrande as some sort of renegade. The priestess of the moon was wise and kind and her people admired her, anything else was hard to imagine at the very least.
"Who knows, Maiev probably wants to chain me up in her dungeon along with my badly behaved brother by now." Malfurion suggested.
"Only I get to do that." Tyrande stated fiercely while Jaina blushed and tried to think of anything except whatever badly behaved thoughts that leapt into her mind just then.
"You would be claimed by her too, that woman is quite a collector in fact and would surely love to have the whole scandalous set."
Tyrande reached down to grab him by the ear.
Halvdan woke up slower and drowsier than in many days. Ever since they set out on the last and hardest leg of the return journey to be precise, flying west from the Aerie Peak and making camp under canvas and the metal fuselage most nights.
This time he did mysteriously not have to wake up to his calves cramping from the cold or the ground oversaturated with rain water. He was warm and dry and a fire was crackling nearby. There wasn't any need to hurry up to light a fire or boil water or pack up because they dared not stay longer than absolutely necessary in any single spot. He could just stretch his legs and go back to being just half awake.
They had made it. They had made it back here to this ruined strange kingdom with Alina's present and she had been so happy that it had been worth every trouble twice over.
Then there was of course the related more embarrassing episode where Halvdan had rushed to embrace her in front of practically everyone and made a complete idiot of himself. Probably. He nearly felt like crawling under his blankets and hide just thinking about it. But at least nobody was watching right now, in case it would somehow show when you remembered screwing up.
Or so Halvdan assumed when he heard whispering. Elven whispering.
Slowly and discreetly he turned his head. The moment he could catch a glimpse over his shoulder, four books were immediately raised in front of four faces presumably as white as the hands.
They had been eerily quiet. He hadn't heard so much as a breath…
Right. Undead.
This would take some time to get used to.
Halvdan was sure he caught a suppressed giggle or very dubious snort however.
"The denizens of this castle are a studious lot indeed." Halvdan said out loud to nobody in particular.
"This is a library after all. You're supposed to be reading." said the leftmost book.
"Shhh!" the centre-right book hissed. "I am trying to read here."
"It is very hard nowadays, with passing vagrants sleeping on the floor and what not." said the rightmost book.
"You're holding your book upside-down." the centre-left book pointed out.
"It gives me a new perspective."
Halvdan started to recognize these whispering books. That was Velonara, who was one third of the Naras, and Cyndia who was always with her. And Mara and Mirrah – no, Mira and Marrah, and the Mirrahs as a plural.
They were actually right in this instance. Runar and Halvdan had been allotted the space closest to the hearth in the Lordaeron Keep's library because very little else was in one piece and even less was fit to keep the cold out. Their luggage was stowed in the corridor outside and the room across.
It was in every way a decent and pleasant library but like most libraries it did not come with things like kitchens and baths. Halvdan sniffed uncomfortably at the shirt he had slept in. For several days. Being on the road – or in the air as it were – for weeks took its toll. He wondered what would be a polite, and not laugh-inducing, way to ask about these kinds of mundane things to a flock of elven rangers. Hopefully Runar would be waking up soon. He always managed to know what to say.
Conscious of the hidden glances thrown over the cover of different editions of the Lordaeron Royal Taxation Calendarium, Halvdan turned his back on them and made sure to drape his blankets over himself while getting dressed. Say what you will about the long-legged peoples, but their bedclothes were spacious enough if nothing else.
Runar, that lazy sod, was still asleep further inside their corner between the hearth and the wall and a tattered couch. Halvdan wondered if he could somehow enlist the rangers' help in waking him up in a suitably entertaining manner when the issue was settled by the other two Naras – Nara and Lenara – bursting through the door.
"It's snowing!"
Halvdan leapt to his feet, catching at the last moment his yet unbelted trousers, and looked around expectantly for a window.
"Runar, wake up!"
"Huh?!" Runar sat up in his bed in alarm, looking around for the expected pack of ravenous ghouls or other emergency.
"It's snowing!"
Halvdan had to admit that the speed with which Runar leapt out of his bed and into his clothes was elf-watch-avoidance of high level.
"Here, come look." Lenara had politely snatched up one of the small ladders belonging to the taller bookshelves and placed it under one of the inconveniently highly placed windows. Outside was a dreamy landscape. It had not begun to snow, it must have been going on throughout the night and large starry flakes kept adding to the white drifts.
"That was a pretty storm that chased you here." Mira remarked, but Runar and Halvdan were already out of room.
The Keep was reasonably well planned and they only took one wrong turn on the way.
Halvdan had skilfully remembered to slide to a halt immediately outside the door and not keep running unnecessarily far. His foresight was rewarded when he scored a fine hit just below Runar's collar. He was sure that a bit of snow would have sprayed inside it.
"Ha! First hit of the season to Halvdan Blacksilver!"
"Knave. Brigand. Attacking passing peaceful travellers like a lowlife crook."
"Certified rogue, yes. Any other questions?" Halvdan quickly bent down to reload while Runar's counterattack hit his thigh. It was not early as fine a hit in Halvdan's opinion. He would follow up with a quick volley of three and hurriedly scooped up enough snow. While he bent down he spotted something in the corner of his eye. Perhaps a sneaky close range assault or attempt to push him into the snow, but such a move was terribly unstylish and rather unsportsmanlike in a snowball fight.
In any case, Halvdan was ready and whirled up and around and threw his first snowball before anyone had time to react.
POFF.
It was a fine hit, right into the eye slit of the helmet of the Forsaken elven soldier who had just appeared between them.
He was quite…tall. And armed to the teeth with armour and an imposingly elegant helmet, a long-bladed spear or pole arm of some kind, and an also very long shield.
Halvdan searched his mind for the politest excuses he had ever overheard while the elven warrior shifted his spear to the other hand and brushed and wiped snow from the right half of his face.
"Ah. I see." he noted before anyone else had time to say anything. "Well, this is a little embarrassing."
Halvdan could only silently agree.
"I was passing by and heard some sort of commotion." the elf continued in a very even tone. "And obviously I mistook it for something considerably more alarming than a game of wintry sports."
"And I, hm, in my haste to retaliate obviously mistook you for my esteemed opponent in a considerably more embarrassing manner." Halvdan said while clearing his throat. As far as fully armed elves went, this one seemed quite reasonable so far.
"I had just had my shield repaired after a rather unfortunate encounter." the elf said matter-of-factly. "It can with every right be argued that I should then have made proper use of it. As a matter of fact, there was one rather eccentric infantry captain in the seventeenth century – Evewind – who made it a habit of throwing pebbles and gravel at his troops at odd moments to instruct them in the merits of unceasing vigilance. I must conclude that snowballs are a considerably more civilised alternative."
"I do not doubt that I would swiftly agree with you if I ever encountered someone with similar ideas. My name is Halvdan, by the way. Halvdan Blacksilver."
"Irizadan. My closer friends, and certain irrepressible rangers, tend to call me Ire."
"This is my colleague Runar. We are, our present debatably diplomatic conduct notwithstanding, envoys of Khaz Modan in Lordaeron."
"I am aware. Along with most of the rest of the city I assume. Your manner of arrival and of strengthening the morale of the dark rangers have left very few unmoved I believe –"
"Boring!" A bright voice from the shadow of the door cut him short. "Ire, you should arrest him!"
"Ah. That would be the mentioned irrepressible rangers." Irizadan noted.
"It would absolutely be." Halvdan agreed with him. "We think we are technically their guests as of now."
"Yes, they tend to welcome strangers in a tad peculiar way."
Was Irizadan making a reference to other travellers who had made contact with the Forsaken? Halvdan's curiosity soared but then a new snowball from the doorway rangers – which he managed to skilfully dodge by a hair – demanded his full attention.
"Is talking all you are going to do?" Marrah complained.
"In civilised realms I am quite sure that diplomatic immunity covers errant snowballs. And currently I find myself woefully overdressed and overarmed for sportily pursuits." Irizadan argued with patient ease over his shoulder. "But I suppose we could try to at least come up with some sort of inane and pointless insults to humour them." he suggested to Halvdan.
"Yeah, how about – you could threaten that you would cut off my head, if it stood but a little higher above the ground?"
"Exquisitly dull-witted. And a casual allusion to slurs of short-legged dwarves on top of everything. What if you countered by a similar extreme, and pointed out how we brittle and flimsy elves are easily broken in twain?"
"Indeed. I would cut you down to size before your stroke fell."
"Very droll. I must take care not to step on you and squash you like an overripe apple under my boot."
"A tall order, for pointy-ears who have their noses in the air and their heads in the clouds."
Irizadan maintained an expressionless face for the count of two, before he snorted and broke out into a bark of laughter.
"I give up! A tall order, that is horrendous. So awful. And pointy-ears?"
"A long established jibe." Halvdan grinned.
"Really? I would just as readily have thought it a term of affection. We shall have to delve further into these finer points of culture some other time."
"This world is upside-down…" Halvdan mumbled as Irizadan disappeared into the keep.
Their ranger audience were not quite pleased with the outcome.
"If you want something done you have to do it yourself…come Cyndia, let us arrest this snowball-tossing brigand at once and bring him before the queen! Naras, on me!"
"Not a chance!" Mira shouted. "The dwarven honour guard will stop you!"
Pandemonium reigned as dark rangers rushed to reinforce Runar and Halvdan and unleash quick volleys from behind the multitude of covers found in the nearby ruins. Halvdan wondered where this would end. You could never quite know with the dark rangers, was his distinct impression that was quickly reaffirming. On the one hand you had the heartbreaking things that had been done to them and all the other of these undead Forsaken, and all the scars it had left. On the other was unyielding curiosity (he had only with the greatest effort prevented his sacks of personal clothes from being raided), currently displayed craziness and undeniable care and comfort they showed one another.
Now, if Halvdan had honestly had best intentions and only made a slight oversight when hitting Irizadan, then the same could not be said when the ranger captain and the commander of the dwarf-arresting side of them appeared in the doorway.
POFF-POFF-POFF!
Three consecutive snowballs had given Ranger Lieutenant Kalira a majestic white beard. Slowly and deliberately she shaved it off with a finger while fixing the perpetrators with a worrying glare. Halvdan had the distinct impression that she was quite good at those, and had had a lot of reasons to practice.
Kalira and Areiel looked at one another.
"Send in everyone." Kalira said ominously.
"Are you really sure?" Areiel asked, and did not manage quite the same level of ominous.
"Everyone."
"Come on, let's show these summer-dwellers how a real snowball fight is fought!" Areiel called out to someone behind them.
It was a lot of someones. Forsaken children of all statures followed two of the rarer male dark rangers in a long column behind each.
"Line up, and no pushing, and lastly pay no heed to what Rishk says!" one of the team captains reminded.
"We are supposed to be on the same team, moron." his colleague retorted. "Hands up all who agree that Vile is a moron!"
A great deal of small hands were quickly raised.
"There, an overwhelming majority vote. I dare say it is unanimous."
"That's a rigged vote if ever there was one."
The female dark rangers had ceased throwing for the moment and watched the new arrivals expectantly.
"Stop bickering and start throwing!" Lenara shouted.
"You are one to talk!" Vile retorted and turned to his little army. "Get those rangers!"
At once, all the Forsaken children scooped up a snowball and peppered Vile and Rishk so that they were instantly more white than black despite their ranger uniforms.
"You are rangers too." one of the children explained brightly to the pair of snowmen.
Halvdan's life had taken strange turns at times and he and Runar had seen some stranger sights along the way. But a snowball fight with a score of living dead children – against which the hurriedly combined ranger-dwarf side found itself outnumbered and outmatched – trumped most things he could quite possibly imagine. He learned a score of names, of which he hoped to remember a third if lucky, and that for the most part they had to remain underground in the real Undercity lest the Scourge or Scarlet knights would get them. That curfew had eased lately however after the Banshee Queen and her mage princess had kicked the Scourge's tails off the city walls when they came earlier in the autumn.
"You have to come and fly here more times so we are allowed to have more snowball fights!" one skeletal girl with only one hand and brightly glowing yellow eyes insisted to Runar. Runar looked at Halvdan, who recognized the same awkwardness he felt. It was not easy to know whether to cheer with the downtrodden people they seemed to have managed to almost inadvertently entertain with their return, or weep buckets for their plight.
"We thought we would stay for a time, and unfortunately I think we are out of both fuel and spare parts for any flying. But important things like snowball fights we will always push strongly for." Runar promised.
Speaking of strange things it was also usually not he and Runar who people called inside because breakfast was ready, and scores of children around them who were not. They were shadowed by a snowy crowd of pointy-eared dark cloaks.
Inside the library was a pleasantly warming fire in the hearth and a table set with a towering breakfast.
"Your table is certainly richer than it was in the summer…" Runar said with astonishment.
"You can come upon all sorts of things when you're looking for lost Cyndias…" was Velonara's cryptic explanation. Halvdan made a note to himself of finding out more about that and the Banshee Queen's mage princess, and a dozen more things. After he had decided whether smoked sausages or fried fish was the better starter course, that was.
"Thank Clea and Kitala." Velonara added. "They readied all this. They've kind of got the hang of tending to living guests. No skipping on the vegetables!"
"Our compliments then to Lady Clea and Kitala." Halvdan said and dutifully took a bite off a carrot that tasted a bit stale but was quite edible.
They were both too busy eating to talk much for a while but then Runar broached a subject that piqued the interest of everyone around.
"Maybe we should tell them about the chest?"
"That might be a good idea."
The chest was nothing other than one of their boxes, thoroughly bound up with rope and meticulously stowed with very specific, and very precious in their own way, goods.
Runar and Halvdan had scoured the markets of Khaz Modan and several other places for the best they could think of to brighten the days of a dreary kingdom where almsot everything was broken. But they were still not totally sure if it was an appropriate gift when they brought the chest forward and proceeded to unlock and open it.
"What is that?" Mira and Marrah asked as one.
"Just a few things we guessed would be in short supply in Lordaeron…" Runar cleared his throat. "We reckoned that since you can't eat for example there would be no point in offering something like pastries or the like –"
"We don't need to eat like you do, but some of us can." Lenara said.
"Right. So we asked around a bit and, well…it's a few card decks, some sets of dice, some board games –"
"Open up!"
"The thing is, we had this idea when we packed for this expedition…" Halvdan did not get any further when half a dozen eager elves swarmed them and proceeded to unpack the contents like it was an actual treasure chest.
"We weren't sure if it maybe was a stupid thing to bring those." Runar tried to pick up unsurely. "We wouldn't want to, how to say…trivialise the Forsaken's situation."
Nara Pathstrider gave him a sceptical eye, which was telling because on other side of her nose was only a deep scar.
"Is that another game, like 'think up the stupidest question' competition?"
"You can play that while we play Hearthstone." Velonara scoffed. "Dibs!"
Ashenvale became magical after dark.
That was maybe a silly opinion to have for an archmage versed in weaving complex magics herself but in Jaina's opinion there were spells and there were the glowing lights everywhere in a forest full of spirits and mysterious creatures that a few months' worth of visiting only let you catch the briefest glimpse of.
Jaina and her night elves had stopped for dinner, or so Jaina thought. She had found her thoughts drifting in a strangely distracted manner the last hours and not cared much at all about what time it was. Like she did not have to be so alert anymore today. Tyrande would keep a sharp lookout and Pained and Malfurion wouldn't let anything happen to her. It was almost embarrassingly pleasant to be able to only look and listen to the woodland around.
"Jaina? Can we take a look at your back?"
"Hm?" It took a little time for Jaina's mind to fully collect itself and return to the present. "Uhm, it's very kind but –"
"But I am the resident archdruid and reserve the prerogative to make judgement of healing matters, thank you." Malfurion firmly interrupted.
"Well…" Jaina looked around for nothing specific. "It isn't a nice sight. Pained, I don't think you have seen how it looks."
"No, I have not. And now you worry me greatly, Jaina."
"Yes, I always manage to worry people I try not to worry, don't I…" Jaina sat down and started to pull up her robes. Even in Ashenvale the late time of the year made itself known and Jaina was at least wearing pants underneath, but still.
Night elves were something quite different than high elves sometimes. They could be quite tall, and with broader shoulders and hips and longer ears they appeared a good deal wilder. Not least those that sported antlers or were best friends with gigantic feline beasts. It was easy to feel a bit smaller than you really were in their company, in Jaina's opinion, and then there was of course also that fact that some of them could count their age in millennia.
Malfurion remained perceptive as ever and did not miss out on Jaina's shyness.
"My Love, could you sit with your cloak on Jaina's left? And Pained to the right, just in case the wind should turn chilly."
The wind would be extremely unlikely to reach down into the sheltered spot they had picked. Wild druids could be very smooth sometimes.
"It's alright." Jaina said, but appreciated the thought very much all the same. "Here goes, then…"
"My Lady!" Pained exclaimed.
"Who did this to you?" Tyrande asked with deep sadness.
"A foul woman in scarlet robes who wanted to make me understand that I was wrong to show kindness to the living dead, and thought that a whip would be a good instrument to instruct with."
"Excuse me for just a moment." Malfurion said through clenched teeth and strode with long steps away from their little encampment. Jaina was confused but Tyrande did not seem to be. Just then she heard a terrible roar and nearly jumped off her seat.
"It is alright. There is no danger." Tyrande reassured her.
No danger? If Jaina had not been much mistaken that had sounded like a rather huge bear in a terrible mood. Was Malfurion about to make it go somewhere else?
He appeared just then from behind a tree, in a blur of druidic magic.
"Pardon me. I felt the need to say a few choice words I shall not repeat in polite company." He took his seat again next to Jaina, now calm and collected. "Let us see what we can do about this."
"It's just scarring by now." Jaina couldn't help but sound dejected.
"And good scarring at that. Your body heals well, Jaina." Malfurion was looking closer so Jaina could feel the warmth from his nostrils. "But this time it had good help also. Unless I am much mistaken someone cared a great deal for you to become whole again."
"Yes…" Jaina whispered. "Lyana… Anya…"
Saying Anya's name hurt inside.
"I heard of something that humans use to do when something hurts. They called it blowing on a wound… I think I should give it a try."
Jaina was about to argue that it was just a joke, that it was only an expression of comforting, that…several other things, that could probably wait now that Tyrande offered her arm for Jaina to lean against and held her head in place so she could relax her neck. Her bare back did not feel cold, on the contrary there was a comforting warmth in the air. If there was an anathema to a chill and to stiff and sore limbs, it was this.
Tranquility.
Pained grabbed her boots – her superb dark ranger boots – and inched them off together with her socks so Jaina's feet could rest solely in fluffy frostsaber fur. It was just like the slippers she had found in the Undercity market. Fluffy probably wouldn't mind if she burrowed her toes a little deeper.
Fluffy didn't mind. She turned to pat and lick Jaina's toes with the huge brush of a tongue she had, that seemed made to tickle while a conscientious frostsaber tidied your up in her own way.
Living or dead, no one knew how to cosset like elves did. Jaina wanted to ask if they had actually seen any of the undead high elves when they were in Lordaeron but she was too tired to formulate a question, and next thing she knew the sounds of the forest grew fainter and she was falling asleep against Tyrande.
She was almost sure that the moon priestess was signing.
When the morning came Jaina woke up on her own wrapped In Tyrande's cloak and with only the moon priestess in sight over a small campfire where something was cooking. Both the cloak and the pot smelled nice, in different ways.
"You can stay down a little while longer, Jaina." Tyrande said kindly without looking up. "Our breakfast is not quite ready."
Jaina looked around from her bed. She was not cold but not overly warm either without anyone near her.
"Where is everyone?"
"Pained has gone with Malfurion to visit her family who mysteriously happened to be in the vicinity for the next few days. She is currently riding at breakneck speed with a stormcrow cawing instructions from above, I believe."
"Mysteriously happened to be in the vicinity, hm? Very mysterious." Jaina sat up halfway with the cloak still over her legs. "That was very kind of you to arrange. Thank you. Pained deserves all the time off she can have."
"Do not worry yourself over her. I can not quite say she knew what she got herself into when she accepted the assignment, but now I would pity anyone who would dare suggest she abandon it."
"I don't want her to. Ever. Pained is much more than my bodyguard."
"Calling her home is the last thing I would want to do. And she would bite my head off if I tried."
"Where's Fluffy?" Jaina wondered, speaking of biting someone's head off.
"Out looking for her breakfast, or the leftovers of her supper. She insisted on putting her cub to bed before she went out hunting tonight."
"Everything always happens when I am asleep…" Jaina half muttered, half jested, while she took her place next to Tyrande to eat. Tyrande looked very amused.
"Remember who you have been hanging out with lately. We are not called the night elves for nothing. And the restless dead are not known for staying quiet during the night."
"You may have a point there… Hey! You said 'hang out'!"
"Yes? Just because I am past fifteen thousand does not mean I can not pick up a new expression or two. I happen to have spent time with the younger races of Azeroth lately, I will have you know." Tyrande grinned at her. "I thought that you and I could hang out for the next few days. And Fluffy of course. She agreed to let you sit in the front so I can teach you how to ride a frostsaber properly."
"I would like that… Can I try to shoot from the saddle some time like you do?" Jaina added and felt like she was ten years old and begging to take the wheel on her father's flagship.
"You know how to handle a bow?" The moon priestess sounded pleasantly surprised and approving.
"Only a little. I suppose I should better keep up practicing."
"That you absolutely should! Oh, this I will want to see, definitely."
"And I suppose that in return you will want to hear everything about my stay in Lordaeron?" Jaina glanced suspiciously at Tyrande who tried to look innocent but could not stop herself from smiling back. "Am I correct, hm?"
"You know me too well, Jaina."
"I've had a lot of experience with elven nosiness these last months."
"Really? In my humble defense immortality is of no help against dying from curiosity and I think I have a bad case. But apart from that I understand that a day may also come when my people will need to be well aware of the difference between Forsaken and the thralls of the Burning Legion."
"I sort of expected nothing less. But it is a bit of a long story, honestly."
"I thought it might be. But we have time, Jaina, so take your time. And do not feel obliged to speak of anything you do not wish to."
Fluffy came back a little later and Jaina and Tyrande were just ready to leave. Tyrande helped her sit properly and keep her knees tucked in and follow along the movements when Fluffy walked. In a way it was no different than riding the waves in a small boat, and in another it was like nothing else. But if anything happened Jaina was sure that Tyrande would catch her before she had blinked, so she tried to relax and enjoy the scenery and the feeling of actually riding on a frostsaber, almost by herself.
They took it slowly initially and it suited Jaina just fine. It was a good time to start retelling of her time with the Forsaken. Harder was to know how to begin, so Jaina did it with a question.
"Tyrande, when you were in Lordaeron, did you encounter any dark rangers? They are the undead elven rangers of Quel'thalas, they would have appeared as archers cloaked in black with white or grey-blue skin mostly. And red eyes."
"No, we never saw anything like that. Just as well, for there was one time when I was separated and very exposed after Teluria and I had been swept away down a river. I would not have relished encountering skilled archers in such a position."
"That's…that's good."
"You care a great deal for them, do you not?"
Jaina nodded.
"Are Lyana and Anya, who treated your wounds, among these dark rangers?"
"They are."
"Then I am all the happier we never had to fight them."
Before Jaina knew it she kept telling about the dark rangers, both in general and of those that she personally knew. And from there she kept going and described the other undead and what she knew about their ways and they themselves. It was the wrong end of the tale to start with but at the same time it was the right one. Jaina was not telling her story, not yet at least, but the story of the Forsaken.
Tyrande only interrupted by low reminders and commands about the riding, and a question here and there of terms in Common that she was less familiar with. Like yesterday, Jaina felt like time slowed or faded to be less important. It was only her and Tyrande and Fluffy, and the serenity of the forest around them.
She was glad that she had been able to do something for Pained by coming here, and the very fact that for all that had gone wrong during the year at least her friendship with the Kaldorei remained strong. Even her back felt better than in a long time. More…relaxed, somehow.
They rode through dense and winding paths in the lowlands and narrow trails and no trails at all along mountainsides with breathtaking views over the rest of Ashenvale and the scarred Mount Hyjal.
"It is healing. Slowly but surely. All the land is." Tyrande said as they looked out from the perch high up where they had stopped to make a break.
Jaina thought about the battle they had thought, in truth more like a desperate delaying than an actual defence of the mountain, until Malfurion had completed his trap for the demon lord Archimonde. They had been so close to losing completely. Alliance, Horde and Kaldorei alike.
"How are you?" Jaina asked the moon priestess thoughtfully. Tyrande heard her tone and took her time answering.
"It is good to have Malfurion back, awake and with me I mean." was the first thing she said. "Despite every hardship my people face and despite how scarred and broken our land is, I find myself looking towards the future with hope that it will be better. Archimonde is not defeated, but destroyed. Mannoroth as well. And my people have found allies of the most unlikely kind. However brief that was, it could maybe be again one day."
"I'm happy that you have each other. I think you're actually kind of cute together." Jaina bit her lip, trying to keep her face even.
"Ha! Ancient priestesses of the moon are 'cute' these days? Well, I would rather be that than many other things."
"Pained doesn't seem to think moon priestesses should be like that." Now Jaina failed to stop herself from snorting and huffing in repressed giggles.
"Pained needs to learn to loosen up a little bit. Perhaps you should introduce her to some of your dark rangers one day."
Jaina truly wondered how that would turn out. She sure would want to be there to see it if it ever happened.
"We are in a perilous position. More unforgiving kin than Pained would also prefer if I maintained a stricter demeanour. The war against the Scourge and the Burning Legion weakened us severely and now another looms on the horizon in the worst case."
"Is it the naga?"
"No, fortunately not, though no one can predict where and why the naga will appear next. No, our greatest concern is the orcs."
"The Horde? But why? What is it about?"
"What is it always about?" Tyrande asked rhetorically and it was like she was sick of the whole thing. "Wood."
She signed to Jaina that they should sit down and while they both ate Tyrande elaborated.
"The reason the orcs first intruded on our forests was timber. That was even before they were fuelled by their renewed pact with Mannoroth the Destructor and their skin was green like today instead of red. Their need for building materials for their dwellings was as great as yours but they were closer to us and paid little heed to what trees they set their axes against. That dilemma was not solved by us joining forces against the demons, and it is not solved to this day."
"Humans generally make better stonemasons I suppose. Though I can't promise we would not have cut down your forest either." Jaina admitted with some discomfort.
"Your honesty always do you credit, Jaina." Tyrande paused to drink. "It is not that I do not understand the orcs' need. A part of me can admire their tenacity and ability to thrive in such an unforgiving place as the badlands they have made their new home. But Ashenvale is ours, ours to guard and watch over. We do so with respect and care for the nature of our realm and it gives back to us. The orcs do not see that. They see a greedy race of elves laying claim to much more timber than they could possibly make use of just for the sake of laying claim to it. And meanwhile the orcish families suffer without proper shelter from the sun and the night's cold."
"You...you are very understanding, Tyrande. Even if you are on opposite sides."
"We have learned from our recent mistakes, or some of us have tried to. Our isolation made us blind to the threats from outside that finally became reality. That must not happen again. If I can not maintain this fragile peace along our borders I will at least endeavour to learn what I can of the foe we will have to fight."
"Do you think that will happen?" Jaina's heart sank. Orcs and elves butchering each other next to Theramore was a nightmare. Had they not come to Kalimdor, or remained in Kalimdor at least, to be rid of that sort of senseless bloodshed?
"Thrall does not desire it, no more than I do. Of that at least I am convinced. Yes, I have spoken at length with him, but it was some time ago." Tyrande added with a wry look at Jaina's surprise. "I warned him against allowing his people to encroach further and he accepted my view. But he also told me what I just described and warned me in turn that if forced to choose between his people's lives and Ashenvale's trees, any Warchief would make the same choice."
"But what about other places? Or what if you could harvest wood for them? In ways that do not harm the trees, I mean?"
"I know what you mean. As far as I know Thrall is scouting every border and doing what he can to steer his people towards gathering materials elsewhere, but Durotar is not a fertile land and orc dwellings require a lot of materials and preferably large and sturdy pieces. I have raised the issue of offering wood, and so has Malfurion, but the responses remain cold and understandably so."
"Won't druids at least wish to preserve lives if possible? Have I misunderstood that completely?"
"Not at all, but it is unfortunately far more bitter and tangled, the whole thing. The orcs, to start with, are a nation of raiders and proud of taking what they need from their enemies. Accepting scraps from us, and depending on our good will, is something a great deal of them view as weak and demeaning."
Jaina rolled her eyes and probably made a great deal of other frustrated grimacing.
"Quite." Tyrande dryly agreed. "And for our part...we live in the trees more than from them. Our dwellings depend on a living forest more than timber we build from. But we can coax the spirits to grow it for us, things like our bows and bolts, furniture and shafts for tools. That is why our bows are of such supreme strength. To demand, let alone force, our kindred spirits to grow more and faster things of wood for us would be an affront, at least to many of us and many of the spirits. A tree is not meant to grow quicker than it does, after all."
"So there won't exactly be lines of druids lining up to cheer on a field of saplings, I take it?"
Tyrande chuckled at the idea, and then she sighed.
"We see ourselves as caretakers of our woods, not farmers. But we also have time to be that. When a carefully nurtured oak has grown to its fullest we will be there to see it, but the orc who witnessed the acorn from which it sprouted will be long gone. In the same way we grow slowly as a population and can grow in tune with the forest we guard, in a harmony that holds little appeal for the Horde whose races burn bright and hot for so short a time."
Jaina looked down. It was true, humans as well as orcs lived for a fraction of the time elves did, unless something happened to them. But it wasn't pleasant to be reminded.
"Jaina, forgive me, I should have worded that better. Or not at all." Tyrande turned away from the precipice in front of them and gently drew Jaina into an embrace. "All life is precious, however long it lasts." She whispered it into Jaina's ear and held her close. "And this one very much to me."
The moon priestess led Jaina back from the lookout spot to sit down where Fluffy was resting and cleaning her paws.
"There is so much bitterness between us." Tyrande bemoaned. "I am prey to it as well. There are times when I think that the orcs can all rot for what they did to Cenarius and we would all be better off without them. But that is only my anger talking. Because life is precious, and my kind ought to have learned to treat it with care."
They had traded places, in a manner of speaking. Jaina was comforting Tyrande, who appeared almost distraught over having the idea that she had made Jaina upset. She wondered how many people a priestess of the moon had that she could confide in, who she would not have to be strong and inspiring to.
"The saddest thing is that had not the orcs slain Cenarius, if he had survived to be here for us today, I think he would have taken pity on the their plight. He could have made Durotar blossom. We could have cleared the tainted Felwoods together and let the orcs cut that down instead."
"Like the cherry trees you planted for us." Jaina gratefully reached for something else, and less tragic, for them to talk about for a bit.
"Are they still thriving?"
"Are you kidding? It's snowing petals in spring. And candied cherries is practically a national dish of Theramore at this point. We keep them under arcane preservation wards all year long."
"Do you, now? I am happy for you." Tyrande appeared to appreciate the change of subject too. "Although..."
"And if you so much as think of saying something about me brushing my teeth afterwards I am going to polymorph you to a frostsaber kitten for Fluffy to fuss over." Jaina added threateningly.
"I would never dream of it." Tyrande promised.
The night elves were really like certain cats sometimes, Jaina concluded some time later. They were quite active at night but preferred to make up for it in the afternoon. Tyrande on her part preferred a nap after noon when they'd had lunch and Jaina was happy to (for once!) be able to keep watch over someone else who was resting. She had a lot of things to think about in the meantime, and cuddle with Fluffy and scratch the frostsaber's ears.
"Is she purring?!" Jaina couldn't help it, she almost squealed it in delight. The sound was a rumbling almost like Fluffy had swallowed a small thundercloud.
"Well, it certainly was not me." Tyrande mumbled from the cloak she had rolled herself into. "Elves do not purr, I will have you know."
"Are you sure?" Jaina teased while she thought of Kitala. "Maybe I ought to ask the moon goddess about it?"
"Elune is crystal clear on the matter. Who would think of such a thing…" Tyrande yawned.
They had descended from the Moonglade Mountains and were again in the deep forest. There was comfortable moss for each and everyone. Jaina had stretched herself out resting against a tree and listened to the rustling of leaves and the birds who nested in them. This part of Ashenvale was a little wilder, where night elven influence held less sway she reckoned.
They really had to find a way to keep this together. There just couldn't be nothing that could be done to stop the Horde and the Kaldorei from going to war. They needed to unite and stand together against the Lich King instead, not fall to this kind of folly that would only leave Ashenvale as well as Durotar burning wastelands just like Lordaeron. Although that wasn't quite apt, Lordaeron was in ruins but the woods were dead but otherwise mostly intact, and...and...
Lordaeron's woods were dead.
But mostly intact.
"TIMBER!" Jaina shouted out loud and sat up straight with a wild stare in her eyes.
"What?!"
Tyrande had rolled out of her cloak and onto her feet immediately and now looked around for whatever danger Jaina would have warned about.
"Timber is the answer! We can fix this! We can fix this, Tyrande!"
"Wha..." the moon priestess blinked and massaged her forehead. "A little slower if you please, girl. Some of us were just sleeping."
"You need timber from somewhere else to keep the Horde out of Ashenvale without having to fight them. Thrall needs timber from somewhere else to build them a kingdom and not be dependant on you. Lordaeron is full of it! Dead and dried trees, just waiting to be cut down so new ones can grow in their place one day. But they're alright, they're mostly preserved because the blight killed off everything even the beetles and maggots that feast on dead wood!"
"Lordaeron...is on the other side of the sea."
"The Forsaken built field fortifications all over from the wood, but they could gather it instead and trade to the Horde for all the other things they need, and trade is honourable and equal so nobody needs to feel diminished from it! And Thrall can tell his raiders to go look for something more heroic than grumbling about timber tariffs."
"Jaina, I can practically hear the cogs in your head grinding. Sit back down and let them, and you can tell me when you have thought it all out instead..."
Jaina did as she said, distractedly. This was it! They could tie the Horde, the Forsaken and Theramore together and the Kaldorei and Dalaran along with them. A chain of alliances for mutual help and aid, to preserve peace between them just as much as to fight the Scourge together.
Azeroth would not have to be a miserable world of only warcraft.
Now, they just needed a fleet...
The door creaked only ever so slightly, but it was enough for the Dark Lady to notice and look up from her desk. Someone had let in this newest intruder in without consulting or even alerting her. Had she finally slipped and ignored warning signs of something far worse than what she could have anticipated? Was fate or misfortune going to finally catch up to her?
With a face set in stone, Ranger Lieutenant Kalira stepped inside her room.
"Sylvanas Windrunner, the time of reckoning has come."
Sylvanas rose cautiously. Whatever this was she would not go down without a fight.
"Today the black queen falls."
Kalira slowly raised her arm and displayed the chessboard box she carried with her.
Sylvanas broke into a predatory grin and swept the neatly stacked reports off her desk.
"Your rooks will be mine."