Jaina
Jaina fiddled idly with the vane of her quill, brushing her fingers back and forth along the soft edge of the grey hawkfeather as she poured over the mountain of paperwork strewn across her desk. The left cheek of her buttock had fallen asleep a good thirty minutes ago, and she was slightly parched, but she was far too engrossed in her work to care. It had been two weeks since Dalaran had come under demonic assault, and she was still neck-deep in managing the fallout.
Quite apart from the practical matters of repair and recovery, which were considerable, Jaina was also determined to unravel the mystery of whoever had orchestrated the attack. In the immediate aftermath, she had closed down all access to and from the city, and placed both the Kirin Tor Guardians and the Silver Covenant on high alert. They had been quick to discover the source of the demonic wave that had swept across the city: a large summoning portal concealed within the dank bowels of Dalaran's sewers. It had been immediately destroyed, of course, but despite the Guardian's best efforts, they had made frustratingly little progress in identifying whoever had summoned the infernal thing in the first place.
Jaina did not blame the Guardians for their lack of progress, but there was no denying that it vexed her greatly. She prided herself on Dalaran's peace and security, and refused to let her citizens live in constant fear of a sudden rain of felfire darkening the sky. It was not the first time she had been forced to suffer traitors in her city, and she would be damned if she would see Dalaran lost the way she had lost Theramore.
Curiously, the Magus Commerce Exchange had been the hardest hit, though there was not a single public place that had been spared the demons' attention. Jaina recalled that the earlier attack on Stormwind had also targeted the Trade District, though whether it was simply a coincidence, or a deliberate strategic choice, Jaina wasn't sure. She doubted the Burning Legion put much emphasis on economic disruption in their tactics, but she made a quick note to confer with Mathias Shaw of SI:7 about the similarities between the attacks nonetheless.
"...Jaina?"
A knock at the door and a quiet cough abruptly pulled Jaina out of her thoughts, and she looked up from her work for the first time in hours to see a distinguished, grey-haired man leaning casually up against her door frame.
"Khadgar?"
Her fellow Archmage was dressed to impress, to the point where Jaina almost didn't recognise him. He had eschewed his practical, everyday garb for a set of formal robes in silky dark purple, with the great golden eye of the Kirin Tor emblazoned across his chest. He also appeared to have taken some pains with his hair, having slicked back the sides and artfully tousled the front.
Jaina blinked. "What time is it?"
Khadgar's arrival was not unexpected. He and Jaina had both been invited to Stormwind for a special session of the royal court, and had arranged to make the journey to the Eastern Kingdoms together. She suspected that it was most likely a public announcement of Auriana's pregnancy, though Khadgar was of course none the wiser – and Jaina did not intend to enlighten him. Varian had disclosed the truth to her in a moment of desperate necessity, and she would keep the secret until he and Auriana were ready for the world to know.
"We're due in Stormwind in twenty minutes."
Jaina lowered her quill, and fumbled around for her pocketwatch – a gift from Antonidas on the occasion of her eighteenth birthday. She'd placed the little golden trinket on her desk earlier that morning, though it seemed that it had now vanished in a mountain of paperwork.
"That late?"
Jaina was not usually one to lose track of time, as Khadgar was well aware. He straightened, and raised a bushy grey brow as he stepped fully into the room.
"Interesting work?"
"Not exactly the word I'd use…" Jaina sighed. "I'm reviewing the final damage report from the day of the attack."
Something subtle shifted in Khadgar's expression, and for a moment he looked very old and very far away. Despite the effort he had put into his appearance, there was no concealing the dark shadows beneath his eyes, nor the strained hollows of his cheeks. Jaina wondered whether he had been sleeping.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here," he said gravely. "Word did not reach the Theramore camp until well after the attack was over…"
"How could you have known?" Jaina shook her head. "No. You were exactly where you ought to be – working to prevent an attack like this from ever happening again."
Jaina had been initially skeptical of Khadgar's plan to use Medivh's keystone to hide the planet from the Burning Legion, not least because it involved building over Theramore's bones. It had taken over a week of gentle but persistent persuasion from Kalecgos before she had come around, though once decided, she had mobilised the full resources of the Kirin Tor in support. The recent attacks on Stormwind and Dalaran had proven the necessity of such drastic action now more than ever, and Jaina was determined to do everything within her power to help Khadgar succeed.
"What were the casualties?"
"Fourteen dead. Over two hundred seriously wounded, and many more minor injuries besides. Serious structural damage to the Citadel and a number of other buildings within the Commerce Exchange and the Eventide. It will be expensive to fix."
Jaina tried her best to sound matter-of-fact, though she couldn't quite disguise the tremor in her voice. It was far from the first casualty report she had read in her lifetime, and it was unlikely to be the last, but it affected her deeply nonetheless. It always seemed dirty, somehow, to have reduced the sum of entire lives to a column of numbers on a page…
"Still." She slipped the grim summary beneath a second leaf of parchment and out of sight. "It could have been much worse."
"Thankfully, the city is well defended. I heard you, in particular, were a sight to behold."
Jaina rolled her eyes. "Now, who told you that?"
"I have it from a number of very reliable sources," Khadgar intoned, deepening his voice and lifting his chin in an effort to project an aura of great mystery. "I was told, and I quote, that you 'put on a most remarkable display' of battle magics."
Despite herself, Jaina flushed at the compliment. She knew full well what Khadgar was doing – he had noted her distress, and was not-so-subtly attempting to change the topic to spare her feelings – but she appreciated it nonetheless.
"Thank you, but combat is hardly my forté. It's chaotic, and stressful, and… sweaty," she mused. "I'll never understand the people who seem to revel in it, like Varian, or Auriana."
Khadgar let out a soft chuckle of agreement. He was hardly a slouch when it came to combat magic, but much like Jaina herself, his personal interests tended more towards the academic.
"Ah, and speaking of which – I hear our stalwart High King was rather impressive, too."
Jaina nodded. "If nothing else, the man can fight. He's…"
She trailed off, as a small detail at the bottom of the now topmost parchment suddenly caught her eye.
"... odd."
Khadgar cocked his head to one side, confused. "You think Varian's odd?"
"No, no – well, I suppose he has his quirks – but I was referring to this, look…"
Jaina spun the report around so that Khadgar could better read, and tapped her finger against the very last line of text on the page.
"I had the Guardians thoroughly inventory the city to ensure that nothing dangerous was damaged or stolen in the attack." She did not need to explain why. "Apart from the structural damage, everything appears to be in order, save from this note from the Citadel's head librarian… it appears that my apprentice thesis is missing…"
"Why would anyone want that?" Khadgar wondered, only to realise a half-second later that his words may have come across as an insult. "Er… no offense."
"None taken," Jaina assured him. "It is an odd thing to take… assuming it was indeed stolen, and not simply lost, or borrowed by an absent-minded student…"
"What was it about?"
"It centred on a deconstruction of Arrexis's Eleventh Theorem of Transmutation. Not my best work, but it formed the foundational research for my variation of the standard mass-teleportion spell…"
"That doesn't sound especially dangerous…"
"No…"
It had been over a decade since Jaina had last read her novitiate work, and in truth, she couldn't recall the text in any great detail. She could remember the countless sleepless nights and endless revisions it had taken to finish the damn thing, and the pride with which she had presented the final version to Antonidas… but the content itself remained elusive. She vaguely wondered whether she had kept a copy for her personal records, even if only an early draft.
"... but that's a mystery for another time," she concluded. "Come. We don't want to be late."
Jaina rose to her feet, and attempted to smooth out her skirts as best she could. Like Khadgar, she had dressed well for a day at Court, in a fine gown of pale lilac with a high collar and a corseted waist. She had left her hair long, and took a minute to adjust the strands around her face so that they fell to her satisfaction.
"You look lovely, by the way," Khadgar said, with a kindly smile. "Although, if I may?"
Khadgar reached for Jaina's right hand with his own. He withdrew a crumpled handkerchief from his left pocket, and gently wiped clean the large ink stain running down the outside of her pinkie to her wrist. Jaina blushed.
"Thank you."
She was not a vain person by nature, but nor did she wish to appear scattered and unkempt before her peers.
"I don't suppose you know why we've been summoned?"
"Not a clue," Jaina lied.
Deception was not her strong suit, though she did her best to keep her expression pleasantly neutral. Khadgar was far too clever to be fooled, however, and he peered down at her with a healthy suspicion glittering in his pale blue eyes. Jaina withdrew her hand from his, and busied herself with the opening of a portal in a poor attempt to avoid his gaze.
"Hmph. I'm starting to suspect that you know something I don't…"
"Oh, you know how it is, Khadgar," Jaina said blithely. "The High King of the Alliance says 'jump'..."
Even before she had finished her sentence, Khadgar threw back his head, and let loose a roaring guffaw of disbelief. Jaina tried her best to keep a straight face, but an impish grin slowly stole across her features nonetheless. No, she was not one to obey authority simply for authority's sake alone, and they both knew it – so much so that Khadgar was still laughing as he stepped into the portal; his amused retort still echoing clear even as his physical form warped and disappeared.
"You have never said 'how high?' to Varian Wrynn in your life…"
Jaina and Khadgar arrived at Stormwind Keep a few minutes before midday. Not late, technically, though they were some of the last guests to arrive. Most inauspiciously, it was raining, with only the occasional flash of lightning to break the thick blanket of growling black thunderclouds overhead. Being a mage had its advantages, however. The moment his well-polished boots touched water, Khadgar lifted his hand, and cast a protective warding spell that kept the pair of them bone dry as they hurried into the shelter of Stormwind's great hall.
Once inside, the dull roar of the storm was drowned out by the excited chatter of the thronging crowd assembled about the throne room. From what Jaina could see, the majority of Stormwind's Court was in attendance, alongside several representatives from the greater Alliance. All three Greymanes were present, and were currently in animated conversation with Muradin Bronzebeard of the dwarves. Valeera Sanguinar stood tall and lissom next to Mathias Shaw on the far side of the room, though Jaina did not spy Broll Bearmantle's distinctive antlers. There were also a handful of other dignitaries she recognised by face, if not by name, and at least a hundred other strangers besides.
Auriana was seated on the throne, with Anduin to her left and Varian on her right. Dwarfed by both men at the best of times, she seemed even smaller when obscured behind a protective wall of Wrynns. She wore a gown of blue and gold that flowed around her slender form like water, and her dark hair glittered with tiny gemstones. In her seated position, it was impossible to tell that she was pregnant, though her gaze flicked down towards her lap more often than was usual.
Both Varian and Anduin were regal and handsome in their formal best, though to Jaina's eye the trappings of royalty sat more naturally on the son than on the father. While Varian certainly filled out a coat well, it was plain as day that he would have preferred his heavy armour. His hand frequently strayed to his hip, as if searching for the pommel of his sword, and he tugged irritably at his embroidered collar as the last of the guests trickled into the room.
In the meantime, Jaina and Khadgar managed to work their way through the throng to a relatively less crowded area on the right hand side of the room. Notwithstanding Jaina's noble title, as two members of the Council of Six and close friends of the Wrynns, they could have requested a more prime position from which to observe the ceremony. Jaina, however, had no desire to draw any particular attention to herself, and she doubted Khadgar did either.
There was little time to address the usher, in any case – no sooner had the distant clang of the Cathedral bells chimed midday, when the royal herald stepped up onto the dais beside his king. He stamped the base of his golden staff of office hard against the white stone floor, and the assembled crowd almost immediately fell silent.
"Honourable members of the House of Nobles, distinguished guests, and citizens of Stormwind: His Royal Majesty, King Varian Wrynn extends to you his warmest welcome, and thanks you for your presence here today," the herald intoned, his voice carrying effortlessly throughout the room. "In his name, I call this session of the Stormwind Court to order."
The herald bowed in Varian's direction, and there was a great rustling of fabric as the assembled Court mimicked his gesture. Jaina found it hard not to smile as she followed suit, given her conversation with Khadgar not fifteen minutes prior, but she was far too well trained in courtly manners to lose her sense of decorum entirely.
"I have been asked to assure you that today's special session will not run over long," the herald continued, prompting a wave of genteel titters, "As I have only a single announcement to make. To wit – on behalf of the royal family, His Majesty is pleased to announce that Queen Auriana is expecting their first child."
No sooner had the herald finished speaking, than the assembled crowd erupted in a round of joyful applause. Khadgar's mouth fell open, and he turned to Jaina in elated disbelief.
"Did you know?" he asked, barely audible over the excited ruckus.
"Yes," Jaina confirmed, "But I was only informed in rather extraordinary circumstances. It wasn't my secret to tell."
"Dalaran," Khadgar realised, his eyes widening in alarm. "That's why Varian came to fight in Dalaran. He came for her."
While Khadgar was not a woman himself, he was well aware of the difficulties faced by pregnant mages.
"Yes, he did."
"Stars above," Khadgar breathed. "Is she alright?"
As far as Jaina knew, Auriana had survived her ordeal with only minor injuries, but she was spared from having to answer the question herself as the herald continued.
"The Queen is currently in good health, and is due later this year," he added, once the initial rush of excitement had cooled. "Both their Royal Majesties and Crown Prince Anduin are delighted by the news."
Privately, Jaina felt that the herald could do with a refresher on the meaning of the word 'delighted'. Anduin, at least, was genuinely beaming, though Auriana and Varian both appeared rather stony and awkward. While Jaina did not expect either of them to be effusive at such a public event, she had thought they might show somewhat more enthusiasm than a faint blush and a tight, uncomfortable smile, respectively.
Making a mental note to enquire further, Jaina held to the back of the throne room as the herald then invited the assembled crowd forward to offer their personal congratulations. Many of the felicitations were genuine – Genn gave Varian an enthusiastic clap on the back that would have brought a smaller man to his knees, while Khadgar pressed forward to fuss over Auriana like a proud mother hen – though there was equally as much political fawning from the assembled nobles. As an heir to a great House herself, Jaina knew full well that there were those who viewed a royal child as less of a blessing, and more of an opportunity…
Jaina had every intention of congratulating her friends, too, but for the moment, she was content with people-watching. She and Khadgar had both been invited to a private lunch following Court, and she considered this a far better and more personal time to express her support. In the meantime, she took up position near the closed door of the War Room door, and settled back against the cool stone wall to observe.
Auriana had risen to her feet, and was greeting courtiers on the left hand side of the dias, while Varian addressed his own crowd of well-wishers on the right. Small as Auriana was, it was difficult to keep track of her amongst the bustle, and more often than not, she was visible only as a flash of jewels or blue silk behind a crush of well-wishers.
What Jaina could see, however, gave her great cause for concern. Auriana was trying, but there was an uneasy stiffness in her posture, and her smiles never quite reached her eyes. It was not something everyone would have noticed, but to Jaina her discomfiture was clear as day. That said, Auriana hid it far better than Varian, who looked more as if he were readying for a fight, rather than speaking with the nobles of his court. His wolfish gaze swept regularly across the room, checking each ingress in turn, and every loud noise or excited exclamation had him reaching for his absent sword.
Curious…
"Aunt Jaina!"
The sound of her name drew Jaina out of her worried thoughts, and she broke into a warm smile as Anduin bounded his way over and pulled her into an affectionate hug. Only a few short years ago, he would have had to stand on his tiptoes to match Jaina's height, though he was now tall enough that he could have comfortably rested his chin on the top of her head.
"Anduin!"
"How are you?" he asked, his sparkling blue eyes studying her carefully from top to toe.
"I'm quite well. So you can stop looking at me like that," Jaina admonished him, with a playful swat of his arm.
"Like what?"
"Like I'm your patient."
"Sorry. Force of habit," Anduin said, with a sheepish grin. "Can you blame me, though? I heard what happened in Dalaran."
"I was unharmed," Jaina assured him. "Though others were not so lucky."
Her thoughts drifted back to the casualty list lying on the desk in her study, and her chest tightened.
"But we're not here to talk about Dalaran, are we?" she added, giving herself a little shake. "You're going to have a sibling! Are you excited?"
Anduin beamed, bright as the sun. "Of course! It was something of a surprise, but a very welcome one."
"And Auriana? Your father?" Jaina prompted, nodding towards the latter.
"Well, I don't know if it was quite as much a surprise for them as it was for me," Anduin teased, "But yes, they're… very happy."
Jaina looked pointedly at Varian, whose expression was as grim and thunderous as the storm clouds outside, and cocked a skeptical brow. Anduin's warm smile faded, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. Anyone else might have tried to maintain a pretense, but Anduin tended to be utterly guileless as a rule.
"Ah. Well. I think they're happy," he amended, "But I won't deny that things have been a bit… uh… tense… since Dalaran."
"Oh?"
Anduin sighed, and fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves. "Father is… not himself. Or, rather… he's like he used to be, when he first returned to Stormwind after his kidnapping. He's… moody. Mercurial."
Jaina frowned. "And Auriana?"
"I don't know. Mostly she's just… quiet."
Jaina glanced back towards the dias, only to soon realise that Auriana had now disappeared entirely.
"I… I really think she could use a friend," Anduin suggested shyly, following Jaina's line of sight. "I try to be there for her, but…"
Jaina nodded her understanding. As wonderful as Anduin was, there were no doubt a great many topics that Auriana would be rightfully reluctant to discuss with her adolescent stepson.
"Where would she go?" Jaina asked. "Her chambers?"
"Most likely. She spends an awful lot of time holed up there these days."
"I see." Jaina beckoned Anduin closer, and took on a conspiratorial air. "I must say, it's getting a little crowded in here. I think I might take a turn about the Keep."
"Well, we wouldn't want you to faint. I know how delicate your constitution can be," Anduin said gravely, playing along.
Jaina very nearly lost her composure at the preposterousness of such a statement, but managed to hold herself in check.
"Could you let Khadgar know where I've gone?"
"Of course," Anduin agreed. "And I'll see you at lunch?"
He may have appeared outwardly amused by their bit of banter, but Jaina had seen a flash of real gratitude in his eyes at her quick endorsement of his plan. Whatever was going on between Varian and Auriana had him deeply worried, and she was more than happy to offer her insight and support wherever it was needed. Quite apart from wanting only the best for her friends, too, Jaina also saw the larger picture. It was no coincidence that both Stormwind and Dalaran had come under assault within weeks of one another, and if more such attacks were to be prevented, the Alliance needed her King and Queen at their sharpest and best.
"Of course," she echoed, reaching up to give Anduin's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, before she turned and slipped away through the crowd.
Jaina had been a guest of the Wrynns many times, and knew the whitewashed corridors of Stormwind Keep almost as well as she knew the Violet Citadel. She even knew of a few shortcuts that Anduin had shown her over the years, and she ascended to the upper levels in barely any time at all. It helped that she was enough of a well-known presence that no one attempted to stop her – or, at least until she arrived at the door of the King's Chambers, where two royal elites stepped forward to bar her path.
"I'm sorry, Lady Proudmoore, but the Queen asked not to be disturbed for less than an emergency," the shorter of the pair explained.
"Are you sure you can't make an exception for a good friend?" Jaina asked sweetly.
"Quite sure. Her Majesty was very specific," the second guard insisted, though he sounded genuinely apologetic.
Jaina opened her mouth to argue the point more firmly – she could be quite persuasive when she wanted to – when the door behind the guardsmen opened, and a familiar woman with short hair and a sinewy build stepped out into the hall. In a rare moment of forgetfulness, Jaina blanked on the woman's name, though she nonetheless recognised her as Auriana's personal bodyguard.
"I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Captain, we were just sending Lady Proudmoore on her way."
The bodyguard took quick stock of the situation, glancing from Jaina to her fellow guards and back again, and shook her head.
"It's quite alright, Darby. I'm sure the Queen won't begrudge a quick visit," she said, smoothly overruling her more junior colleague. "After all, Lady Proudmoore has come all the way from Dalaran."
"With respect, ma'am…"
"I'll take full responsibility with Her Majesty. Not to worry," the Captain insisted, as she pushed the door fully open behind her. "Please, my lady. This way."
"Thank you," Jaina said, lifting her skirts slightly as she stepped across the threshold and into the foyer.
"No, thank you," the Captain countered, giving Jaina a darkly significant look. "She's in the study. Second door on the right."
From the guardswoman's tone, Jaina gathered that Anduin was not the only one who believed Auriana might be in need of a friend, and she hastened her way forward without any further adieu. An ornate golden lion's head graced the centre of the study door, but Jaina did not bother to knock. Instead, she pushed the door open a crack, and cautiously poked her head around the jamb.
"Auri…?"
At first, Jaina thought the study was empty, despite what the Captain had said, until she caught sight of a flash of gleaming brown hair concealed behind the large oak desk that dominated the centre of the room. Jaina took a few tentative steps forward, to see Auriana sitting on the floor beside the fire, with her back up against the inlaid drawers, and her legs stretched out in front of her. Her discarded crown rested by her side, and she had removed her boots so that she might warm her stockinged toes against the hearth. Curiously, she had also tossed a plush cushion up against the wall as a makeshift target, and was now flicking sharply pointed quill nibs at it in an attempt to get them to stick.
"Hello," Jaina said. "Did the pillow do you a grievous insult, or is this more of a pre-emptive strike?"
Auriana let out a grim huff, though she did not protest as Jaina pulled her skirts tight across her backside, and awkwardly folded herself into a sitting position on the floor at Auriana's side. She even shifted slightly to give Jaina room, though her attention remained firmly fixed on her target. A dense hush swelled between them, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder.
"Can I get you anything? Water?"
Auriana shook her head, and flicked another nib at the pillow. This one stuck, and she let out a soft grunt of satisfaction.
"Congratulations," Jaina tried again, hoping to prompt something more than stony silence from her friend. "About the baby, I mean, not the…"
She gestured to Auriana's little game; eliciting a quiet snort of amusement.
"Although it was a good shot."
"Thank you." Auriana's rigid expression softened, and she glanced sidelong at Jaina for the first time.
"I'm so thrilled for you and Varian," Jaina continued. "I didn't know you were trying."
"Well, we… it wasn't…" Auriana sighed, and shook her head. "It happened during the Tournament. In all the excitement and chaos, I forgot to take my usual measures, and…"
She trailed off, and the tips of her ears reddened.
"I'm sorry, that was very forward," Jaina said quickly, realising that what had been a perfectly reasonable statement in her head sounded uncomfortably intimate when spoken aloud. "It's none of my business."
Auriana waved her hand. "It's alright. I know you don't mean to pry."
"Honestly, I'm not quite sure what to say, this is all somewhat new to me…"
Jaina was neither prudish or uneducated, but nor had she spent much time in the company of pregnant women. At least not pregnant women she was close to, in any case.
"You and I both. I don't have sisters, and most of the women I know are soldiers. There aren't too many heavily pregnant women on the front lines," Auriana snorted, "And I've come to learn that I know shockingly little about… well, everything. They don't exactly cover childbirth in the curriculum in Dalaran."
"Would you have listened if it were?" Jaina teased, hoping to inject some much-needed levity into the conversation.
It was an old joke. Auriana was not unintelligent – far from it – but she had never really taken to academia as Jaina had.
"Probably not," Auriana admitted, acknowledging the gentle ribbing with a wry crinkle of her nose. "I used to spend my less interesting classes daydreaming that I was Aegwynn, hunting down demons across Northrend."
"There's such a thing as a 'less interesting' class?" Jaina quipped, deadpan.
At that, Auriana laughed out loud, and shook her head in disbelief.
"Did you ever have Professor Corrus for Intermediate Evocation? I don't know how he did it, but the man somehow made the topic of lighting things on fire sound dull."
Jaina chuckled. She did, of course, know Professor Corrus: an old human mage with a deep love for intricate magical theory and droning voice whose soporific powers could rival that of a green dragon.
"It doesn't seem to have done you much harm," Jaina observed. "You're very good at lighting things on fire."
Auriana bared her teeth in a cocky, satisfied grin, only to quickly sober a second later. She stared down at the dormant scars that criss-crossed her arms, and her expression grew distant and wistful once more.
"Not so much at the moment…"
"I'm sorry," Jaina murmured. "I know it must be difficult to have your magic right there and not be able to touch it."
Auriana shrugged. "It's for a worthy cause, but…"
"I know."
It was something that only another mage could truly understand. No doubt Varian and Anduin had been sympathetic to Auriana's plight, but it wasn't the same. They had never felt the lifeblood of creation surging through their veins; had never known the sweetness of the universe itself expanding in their minds. But Jaina had. She understood.
"I meant to thank you, by the way," Auriana said softly. "For Dalaran. You saved my life."
"Think nothing of it," Jaina insisted. "You would have done the same for me."
"I meant to call on you, but…" Auriana gave a vague and helpless shrug.
"No, no – I would imagine that you've had a great many things on your mind of late. All that matters is that you're safe and well." Jaina nodded towards Auriana's stomach. "Both of you."
Auriana's left hand drifted to the slight curve of her belly in an unusually soft and maternal gesture. A shaking sigh escaped her lips, and her eyes were all of a sudden shining with tears.
"Auri…?"
Jaina placed a worried hand on the younger woman's shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Damn, I'm sorry," she mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm not usually so… so…"
"No need to be sorry," Jaina said quickly, "Although… if I might… I couldn't help but notice that you didn't seem all that excited at the ceremony earlier…"
She couldn't imagine that Varian would ever force Auriana to carry a child she didn't want, but when it came to the matter of royal heirs, the social and political pressure placed upon a queen was immense.
Auriana winced. "It's… difficult…"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Jaina was genuine in her desire to help, though she wasn't quite sure where to start – nor whether Auriana would even take her up on the offer. Auriana was not an especially open person by nature, and while Jaina certainly considered them friends, she could count on one hand the number of times Auriana had shown true vulnerability around her.
Even now, in the privacy of her own study, Auriana seemed torn. There was clearly a part of her that wanted, perhaps even needed to speak, but it was in open warfare with her natural instinct to raise her walls and withdraw. Whether she spoke to Jaina or not, however, it was clear that Anduin was right, and that she was in dire need of a friend. Even if that friend were to simply sit in silence beside her as she worked through her feelings.
"Jaina, I… what happened the day of the Dalaran attack?" Auriana asked finally, after several false starts. "After my escape, I mean."
The question was not entirely unexpected. Jaina had been so caught up in the aftermath that she had not taken the time to truly reflect on her personal experience of the attack, but she had noticed something different about Varian that day; something darker and even more dangerous than his usual formidable self. For a split second, as Jaina had looked deep into Varian's eyes, everything that was her friend and king had disappeared, leaving behind only a bottomless, bloodthirsty void.
"I'm not sure," she said slowly, fumbling to find the right words to describe what she had seen. "I've fought alongside Varian many times, but I've never seen him fight quite like that. He was… mindless. Vicious. It felt like he could have slaughtered every demon in that city a hundred times over and it wouldn't have been enough to satisfy him…'
Jaina shrugged.
"I suppose I shouldn't complain. He saved dozens, if not hundreds, of my people. But did something happen? Demons aside, of course."
Auriana closed her eyes, and leaned her head back against the desk. "I don't know. Frankly, I was hoping you could tell me. It's not the first time I've ever seen Varian upset over a threat to my life, obviously, but this is… different."
"Anduin said something similar."
"I'm not sure even Anduin knows the half of it. Varian… he's not well, Jaina. He barely sleeps. He's angry… paranoid… I wouldn't have thought it possible, but he's somehow both ignoring me and smothering me at the same time. I can't go anywhere without tripping over a dozen guards. He sends healers for me daily. And yet he'll barely even look at me, let alone touch me, or hold me…"
Auriana's voice cracked painfully over her last words. She drew her legs up towards her chest, and wrapped her arms around the knobbly peaks of her knees. Evidently, she had been holding back a great deal of emotion over the past two weeks, and now that she was talking, she seemed to find it hard to stop.
"He came to me, after Dalaran, and he just… unraveled. I've never seen him like that. It was as if something broke inside of him, and thirty years of grief came pouring out…"
Auriana hugged her arms around her body a little tighter, and let out a soft, defeated sigh.
"And what did I do? Nothing," she spat, her voice low and bitter. "I'm his wife. I should have known what to say. I should have said anything, but I… I froze."
Jaina's heart clenched in sympathy – for both Varian and Auriana.
"Auri… you can't blame yourself," she said gently. "You were injured, you'd been forced to use your magic… knowing full well what that might mean for your pregnancy. You weren't in a mind to be comforting anyone, let alone…"
Jaina paused for a moment, choosing her next words with great care. She did not wish to sound critical.
"Varian… he… he has endured the kind of trauma that most people can't even imagine, let alone relate to…"
While Jaina herself was no stranger to heartache, she had to admit that the circumstances of Varian's suffering were rather unique. She certainly couldn't fathom what it must be like to have had one's body and soul quite literally split in two, nor the strength it must have taken for Varian to reintegrate his shattered psyche. Sometimes, Jaina had wondered how her friend was even still standing. Any one of the tragedies he had suffered over the course of his lifetime would have been enough to break a lesser man, and yet he had been forced to face down great adversity and heartbreak over and over again.
"He's just so angry," Auriana whispered. "All the time."
Jaina fiddled with the hem of her skirts, toying with a loose strand of golden thread as she gathered her own thoughts. She had put great time and effort into recovering from the darkness in her past, but it was sometimes difficult to articulate what she'd learned. It was harder still to apply that knowledge in practice, though it had been impressed on her that a great deal of the merit of recovery was in simply trying.
"I don't think anyone is ever truly angry. Not really."
Auriana lifted her head from her knees, and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "As a berserker, I'm not sure I'd agree…"
"Well, maybe you're the exception," Jaina conceded, with a wry tilt of her head, "But… in my experience, anger is simply a mask for what we really feel; the name we give to our pain, or our fear, or our shame when it's too much to hold inside."
Auriana considered the point seriously; her hawkish blue eyes boring into Jaina's own.
"Are you saying you weren't angry when Theramore was destroyed?"
"I…"
Even after all this time, Jaina could remember Theramore's death as if it had happened yesterday. A split second of white nothingness. A moment of horrified understanding. And then the great, rending opening of a chasm in the place where her heart had once been.
"I'm saying… that my anger was the outward face of my sorrow," she said slowly. "If I stopped, even for a second, to consider the enormity of what I had lost… it would have consumed me. It was far easier to be angry than to sit with my grief."
In the immediate aftermath of the city's destruction, Jaina had filled the hollow in her soul with as much fury as she could muster, terrified that when the well of her anger finally ran dry, she would be forced to face her pain. She had done so, eventually, with guidance and support from those she held most dear, but it had been a long and difficult process – and in many ways, one that was still ongoing.
"That I can understand. The world always seems so much simpler when I'm in a rage," Auriana murmured. "Anger is sharp. Clean. Pain is… messy."
"In some ways, I think my anger saved my life," Jaina added thoughtfully. "I clung to it like a lifeline. It kept me moving, kept me breathing… but it wasn't what was really at the heart of me. It was a symptom, not the disease."
She shook her head.
"My point is – I've known Varian for a long time. And I know that he tends to appear at his most furious when he's most afraid… or ashamed."
Auriana bit her lip, and stared long into the fire; her ashen profile warmed to a pale gold by the dancing flames.
"I'm not so sure," she murmured. "He said… he said that it was reckless of me to be in Dalaran that day. That I had put our child in danger."
A shower of sparks sprayed upwards as a piece of kindling broke in two, and burned away into charred nothingness.
"Do you think he's angry at me? Do you think that's why he won't… because he believes I'm a bad mother?"
Auriana's voice was as small as Jaina had ever heard it, and throaty with genuine fear.
"Oh, Auri. No. I'm sure that's not it," she insisted. "Varian loves you. He may be struggling right now, but he loves you. Of that, I have no doubt."
Jaina inched a little closer, and slipped her arm tentatively around Auriana's shoulders. Auriana was not much inclined towards physical affection, but to Jaina's surprise the smaller woman leaned into her embrace, and rested her cheek against Jaina's shoulder. It seemed Auriana was both in need of a friend and desperately starved for touch, and Jaina's heart ached for her anew.
"I saw the way Varian looked when we found you. That was not the face of a man who was angry," she insisted. "It was the face of a man who was terrified beyond reason."
Auriana let out a non-committal grunt, though Jaina felt some of the tightly coiled tension in her shoulders ease.
"I just wish I knew how to help him," she whispered.
"Have you tried talking to him?"
Auriana nodded, the movement rustling the sleeve of Jaina's gown.
"A few times now. But he won't… he shuts me down. He walks away, or insists there's nothing wrong. Like I have no eyes, or ears, or only half a brain…"
She let out a loud snort that was equal parts sarcasm and bitter despair.
"Jaina, you… you've known him longer than I have, you said it yourself. Is there anything you can think of that might help…? I'm certainly not too proud to ask…"
"I'm honestly not sure," Jaina admitted, "But…"
The rest of her answer was cut off by a loud, booming voice that could only belong to one man.
"Auriana?!"
At the sound of her name, Auriana sat bolt upright, and quickly brushed the unshed tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She kicked out with her left foot, and knocked the pillow over so that it concealed her little pile of improvised missiles. Jaina, too, did her part, throwing the edge of her skirt over a stray nib just in time to hide it as Varian stomped into the room.
The King of Stormwind cut a towering figure at the best of times, but was even more imposing when one was looking up at him from the low angle of the floor. Even Anduin, who had come to hover awkwardly in the doorway, was all but hidden behind his father's brooding bulk. The sheer force of Varian's presence also extended far beyond his physical form: his demeanor both as gloomy and intense as the storm still raging outside.
"You left the throne room," he growled, the corners of his lips turning downwards in an ugly scowl. "I turned around, and you were gone."
"I was starting to feel nauseated," Auriana explained, though whether or not she was lying, Jaina couldn't tell. "I thought it best not to lose my stomach over half the Court. Ridley was kind enough to escort me back here."
Varian's wolfish gaze flicked rapidly from Auriana to Jaina, and back again.
"And what part of all that necessitated sitting on the floor? You didn't fall, did you?!"
His attitude was entirely unfair, and Jaina fully expected Auriana to respond with a quick-witted rejoinder. She'd certainly never been shy about taking Varian to task when he deserved it, but today there was no fight in her quiet, weary reply.
"No, no. Jaina and I were just… talking."
Jaina raised an eyebrow, but resisted the urge to chime in with a retort of her own. They were not naughty children to be scolded, though she understood Auriana's desire not to make an already fraught situation worse. Varian was painfully out of sorts, and there was no need to add fuel to the fire.
"I noticed that Auriana had left, and thought I might offer congratulations in person," she supplied, very deliberately keeping her tone light and pleasant. "It's been far too long since we've had the chance to chat."
"Hmph."
Varian let out a grunt of obvious displeasure, and reached down to Auriana so that he might help her to her feet. Yet for all his indignant bluster, he cradled Auriana's offered hand as if it were made of glass, and there was something almost reverent in the way he placed his other palm against the small of her back in support as she leaned over to pull her boots on.
The moment Varian was certain that she was steady, however, he lurched away from her like she was afflicted by the plague. Moreover, while he had been gallant enough to assist Auriana to her feet, he extended no such courtesy to Jaina. His attention was sharply focused on his wife, and he barely seemed to notice Jaina's existence as she struggled to stand up amidst the swirls of her skirts.
"Are you well enough to eat?"
Auriana would have clearly rather done anything else than attend a fancy lunch banquet, but she nodded nonetheless.
"Yes, I… I'll be fine."
"Good," Varian said brusquely. "Our guests are awaiting us in the formal dining room."
"As you wish."
Auriana exchanged a last quick, pleading glance with Jaina, before squaring her shoulders and settling her crown back against the dark waves of her hair. Her defensive walls slammed into place, and her brief moment of vulnerability vanished as if it had never been. As while it may have been Auriana who had sought refuge in the study, it was most definitely the Queen of Stormwind who left.
For his part, Varian followed his wife's departure with sad, hungry eyes; his brooding features set in a painful grimace. Jaina could hear him grinding his teeth, even from halfway across the room, though he otherwise remained as rigid and still as a monolith.
The moment Jaina made to leave, however, he abruptly reached out and stopped her passage with a firm hand against her shoulder.
"She's pregnant, Jaina," he muttered. "What were you thinking?"
While Varian may not have paid Jaina one whit of attention while Auriana remained in the room, it seemed he had not forgotten her existence entirely. He loomed over her, leveraging his superior height to great effect, and his voice was colder than Jaina had heard it for many years.
"I… ah… I believe she wanted to sit closer to the fire..."
"Then move a damn chair."
Once again, a sharp retort rose on the tip of Jaina's tongue, and it was only thanks to years of diplomatic training that she held it back. It was frankly ridiculous that Varian thought she had the ability – or desire – to overrule Auriana's autonomous choice to sit wherever she pleased. Nevertheless, Jaina recognised that his barbed attitude had very little to do with her, and everything to do with his disturbed emotional state. For that, she could show her friend a little grace.
"Of course," she said calmly. "I'll keep that in mind."
Varian's scowl deepened. He had clearly been expecting more argument – perhaps had even wanted to pick a fight – but after a few tense, breathless seconds, he surrendered the point without another word. He gave Jaina a gruff nod, and stalked off after Auriana.
Jaina rubbed a weary hand over her eyes, and let out a slow breath between her teeth.
"Do you see what I mean?"
Anduin came to stand quietly at Jaina's side, though his thoughtful gaze remained fixed on the door through which his father had disappeared. His voice was low, worried, and he very deliberately waited until Varian was out of earshot before speaking.
"He's certainly on edge," Jaina agreed. "To put it mildly."
Anduin shook his head. "I don't understand. I know he worries after Auriana, but she's been in danger dozens of times, and he's never reacted like this. Do you think it's because of the baby?"
Jaina wasn't really sure what to make of Varian's strange and contradictory behaviour, but after observing his interaction with Auriana, she was certain that her initial hunch had been correct, and that there was something far more complex than simple anger eating away at him. His overprotectiveness was not unusual, though it had been a long time since Jaina had seen him quite so vigilant. His erratic approach to Auriana, however – pushing her away even whilst he so obviously wanted her close – was new. And baffling.
"I think… it's complicated."
It was not the most illuminating answer, admittedly, but a truthful one.
"I wonder… maybe Velen knows of some healing techniques that focus on one's emotions," Anduin mused, folding his arms across his chest. "Or perhaps Father could employ some of the Pandaren methods…"
"Anduin… it's not your responsibility to heal your father's trauma…"
Anduin baulked, and he turned his head to look at Jaina properly for the first time. There was a hint of reproach in his bright blue eyes, as if he thought she were suggesting that Varian was not deserving of support at all.
"I know that. But he's clearly hurting. They both are," he protested. "Is it so bad to want to help?"
Anduin was always so earnest, so eager to right all that was wrong, that Jaina couldn't help but to smile. The world would do its best to beat it out of him, she knew, but she fervently hoped it was a trait he would never lose.
"No, of course not," she said gently. "I simply meant… I think Varian needs you to be his son, not his healer."
While there were spells that could soothe a troubled mind and bolster the spirit, when it came to healing a wound of the heart, there was simply no magical replacement or shortcut for effort, time… and love.
"How do you mean?"
"After your mother died, you were what kept him going. He told me once that there were days where he could barely get out of bed in the morning," Jaina recounted. "But he did it for you, because you needed your father."
Anduin flushed a pleased pink. "Really?"
"He never told you?" Jaina asked, though she was not entirely surprised.
"Not in so many words…"
"Well, it's true. He's always drawn strength from his love for you."
She pursed her lips. "You don't need healing texts or ancient wisdom. Just… spend time with him. Remind him of how much he loves being a father. I think it will do him more good than you know."
Anduin tilted his head to one side as he considered Jaina's argument, and after a few moments of quiet contemplation, gave a slow nod.
"I could do that…"
"And… perhaps I could spend a bit of time in Stormwind over the next few weeks, too," Jaina offered. "I'm sure Auriana could use the company, and I need to liaise with Mathias Shaw in any case."
Anduin's thoughtful frown gave way to a proper smile. "I'd like that."
Evidently, he had great faith in the power of Jaina's simple presence, though she was not entirely sure she shared his youthful optimism. Illuminating whatever it was that lay at the heart of Varian's recent difficulties would be no easy task, and while she could certainly draw on her own experiences, she was far from an expert in healing the mind. Jaina also had more than enough on her own plate already… but the Wrynns were family, and she was determined to offer whatever aid and comfort she could. After all, they would – and had – done the same for her.
"We'll find a way to help them through this," she said firmly, though she spoke as much for her own encouragement as Anduin's. "I promise you…"
