Wild Things

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/27649927.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: F/F
Fandom: World of Warcraft
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner, Liadrin/Valeera Sanguinar, Lireesa
Windrunner/Areiel (Warcraft)
Characters: Lireesa Windrunner, Sylvanas Windrunner, Jaina Proudmoore, Katherine
Proudmoore, Genn Greymane, Dar'Khan Drathir, Liadrin (Warcraft),
Valeera Sanguinar, Alleria Windrunner, Vereesa Windrunner, Anasterian
Sunstrider, Areiel (Warcraft), Zul'jin (Warcraft)
Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe,
Eventual Romance, multiple lesbian characters, Angst, Magic, High
Fantasy, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a
Happy Ending, Dreams and Nightmares, Lesbian Sex, Explicit Sexual
Content
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2020-11-21 Completed: 2021-12-03 Words: 167,797 Chapters:
33/33
 Wild Things
by UninspiredPoet

Summary

The Dark Times are nothing more than ancient history to the humans. Fearsome tales told to all
the children of the human kingdoms of Azeroth of satyr and wyvern and trolls and all the wild,
fearsome things that once ruled the land. They are almost as fabled and feared as those that
tamed the wilds with magic so powerful as to be incomprehensible.

High Elves, the humans called them. Ruled by an all-powerful queen. Hidden away behind
invisible barriers in a land of perpetual warmth and beauty. For the elves had tamed all things.
Even nature, itself.

The betrothal of Jaina Proudmoore, the first human with magic in her veins, to a Lord of the
elven royalty was a convenient way for the humans to rid themselves of the perceived threat of a
dangerous young woman with a gift none of them understood. It had also solidified a long-
standing, tenuous truce between them. And Jaina? Well. Jaina never felt like she belonged,
anyway. She has always wanted more.
 Queen of the North

Sylvanas was silent as she watched the cold steel of her mother’s demeanor grow colder and
harder as it often did when she felt even vaguely challenged. And Dar’Khan was frequently
challenging.

Sylvanas had her own opinions about the Magister but she tended to keep them to herself.
Especially in situations like these.

“I just don’t know that it wouldn’t be advantageous to have me escort you as opposed to Lady
Liadrin,” His voice was silky and smooth yet it grated at Sylvanas’s ears like tree bark against
her skin. “You know their kind are used to putting much more stock than is necessary into male
presence.”

“Well, that’s something they are going to have to get used to about us, isn’t it? Our lack of need
for constant male presence?” Lireesa asked with a faint tilt of her head. Her voice was measured
and emotionless. As emotionless as the mask she’d schooled her expression into. Time and time
again. For millennia. "How ludicrous."

“You’re right, of course,” Dar’Khan responded with a soft smile that Lireesa seemed to accept
as a sign of defeat. “I only thought I would offer one last time.”
“Your concern is appreciated. Your timing is not. I was just about to speak with my daughter
when you came,” Again, her voice was even and intonated with something Dar’Khan easily
recognized as dismissal after all these years.

“Of course, my Queen. I will be there to open your portal as promised,” He bowed his way out
of the room graciously, and Lireesa’s eyes followed him all the while.

Sylvanas still just observed. She had never stopped learning from her mother. Her mannerisms.
Her masks. When it was and wasn’t appropriate to wear them. These were important pieces of
information. Now, more than ever, with their truce with the humans soon to be solidified.

As impenetrable as the mask had been, it slipped away the moment the door latched behind her
mother’s advisor. Her eyes were soft and kind as they turned to regard Sylvanas where they had
been anything but only a moment ago.

Her smile was so warm. As warm as it always had been for those deigned worthy of seeing it.

Sylvanas had always been worthy. As all of her children had. She returned the smile easily, and
Lireesa gestured towards the little table they’d been meant to share for breakfast before
Dar’Khan had interrupted their morning.

“Sit with me,” Lireesa offered. “I had your favorites brought up.”

That was true enough, Sylvanas found as she sat across from her mother and looked at their
breakfast fare. Cured fish, fresh cut figs, and a slender loaf of bread that smelled as if it had only
just been baked. It likely had. And mana wine, of course. Always that.

“Thank you,” Sylvanas’s response was quiet, and Lireesa regarded her more closely as a result.

“You wanted to speak with me because you are anxious,” Lireesa observed, pouring her
daughter a glass of wine as her smile faded slightly.

Sylvanas looked over her shoulder at the parlor beyond. At the beautiful ways the still-rising sun
cast the colors of the magnificently stained glass that lined the walls all across the room. The
white marble of the floors and the columns was a beautiful canvas.

“I am,” She admitted with a faint nod, biting her lower lip as she reached for her wine glass and
pulled it closer. “I wish there were another way, I suppose. You know my feelings on the matter.
I find it so disgusting they would give their own daughter as a peace offering. As though a
woman could ever be a piece of property. A bargaining chip.”

Lireesa clenched her jaw for a moment because she agreed whole-heartedly. Vehemently.

“It is necessary, darling girl, for us to accept their offer. I’ve put off her coming for years.”

Sylvanas scoffed and finally took a deep sip of her drink before placing her glass back down and
plucking a quarter of fig from the serving platter between them. “I know. And I find that even
more despicable. How old was she then, hm? When they first began correspondence?”

Lireesa’s eyes narrowed momentarily. The thought alone put a bad taste in her mouth. “Sixteen.”
Sylvanas’s ear flicked in annoyance.

“She is of age, Sylvanas. Had she not been promised to you she’d likely have gone to some
nobleman even sooner than that.”

“The thought makes me ill,” Sylvanas said, her voice soft so as to mask the emotion in it. Even
from her own mother.

She had learned well.

“I know you will be kind to her, Sylvanas. I know you will make her life here a much better life
than any she might have had with her own people. You must remember how fleeting they are.
The humans. At her age, she might have seventy years at best. We’ve no idea if the Sunwell will
help her. We don’t even know if it will hurt her, though I doubt it could.”

“Mm, and what if I fall for her? What if I cherish her the way I might have cherished a wife of
my own choosing? How attractive - the thought of spending an eternity in mourning.”

“You’re being difficult,” Lireesa admonished, and Sylvanas had no argument to the contrary.
She knew she was.

“Perhaps. I feel I might not be so trepidatious about this entire ordeal were I to meet her before-
hand,” Another fig met its end, then, and Lireesa sighed.

“That is simply not acceptable to them. It’s as though they think you’ll see her and change your
mind, though I know that it’s deeply rooted in tradition. At least, I hope it isn’t so shallow as
that.”

“As though I would be capable of such shallowness,” Sylvanas muttered, and Lireesa chuckled.

“I know your taste in women is boundless in its variety. You needn’t remind me. They aren’t
accustomed to that, perhaps. The thought of caring for more than one’s looks,” Lireesa was
satisfied that Sylvanas wasn’t too close to being on the verge of emotional collapse to eat, at last.

Seeing Lireesa a little more at ease soothed Sylvanas as well, and they shared much of their
breakfast in the comfort of silence and the warmth of the sun filtering into the room.

It was so peaceful, in fact, that Lireesa’s eyes darted up in surprise when Sylvanas finally spoke.

“Will you tell me about her when you get back?”

Lireesa let out a soft breath of amusement, but the smile that followed softened any indignation
the sound might have caused.

“Of course, I will. I put no stake in their strange traditions. If I could have this my way, you
would meet and fall for each other naturally as you fall for most women.”

“I feel as though I'm being treated unfairly this morning,” Sylvanas observed dryly, and her
mother looked at her for a while in response.
She was proud of her daughter, truly. Proud of her for the brilliant military mind that she was.
Proud of her for the way she held herself. She just often wondered if she'd instilled too much of
herself in Sylvanas.

“I will ask questions that would be important to you, Sylvanas. Find out things you would very
much like to know. I can't give you many more reassurances than that without having first met
her.”

Sylvanas sighed and nodded her understanding, and Lireesa reached across the table to take her
daughter’s hand in her own. Which of their hands was more worn and calloused, Lireesa
couldn't be sure. She stroked along Sylvanas’s knuckles soothingly nonetheless.

“I have no doubt in my mind you will make this work. As infuriating as you are, your heart is
kind and pure in a way mine never was and never will be,” Lireesa said quietly, and Sylvanas’s
ears wilted slightly as she looked at her mother. “For that, I am forever thankful and proud.”

There was nothing Sylvanas could say to argue with that. Lireesa was not pure. Not kind, either,
in any sense of the word. Not to anyone save for her children and a very select few others. It was
a luxury she couldn't afford.

It was the cross she had to bear. A weight meant only for her shoulders. Sylvanas had long ago
accepted that.

“Thank you, Mother,” She said with a very faint smile, and Lireesa nodded softly and slowly
released her hand.

“Of course. Now, I believe you have many more appointments with your clothier over the next
few days, yes? You should go see to at least one of those this morning. He's been giving my
messengers fits over your absence when he has a near-full wardrobe to complete for you before
the wedding.”

Sylvanas sighed softly and rose to her feet, yet even as loathe as she was to go have her
measurements taken for the dozen time, she leaned over and placed a kiss to the top of her
mother’s head and stayed there for the grip on her shoulder that always came next. Because
Lireesa liked to hold on to these little moments.

“Safe travels,” Sylvanas said in a gentle tone when she finally pulled away.

“I am always safe,” Lireesa responded with a smirk, and Sylvanas looked wryly at the scar
across her mother’s brow and the chips in her ears. She wondered what the humans would think
of their Queen - battle-scarred as she was.

“Of course, Mother,” Sylvanas humored her before they parted ways, as she so often did.

Jaina stared down at the book that was open in front of her. Right past the pages. Right through
the words. Even the table. She saw none of it. She was far too anxious to pay any attention to the
rather dry literature that was her most common fare. Or anything else, really.

Including her mother, who was fussing over her vicariously through the servant currently
braiding her hair as carefully and meticulously as she always did. To her mother’s credit, though,
today really was an important day.

Today, they were receiving visitors. For the first time in her life, Jaina was going to meet an elf.
Fortunate, considering she would be marrying one in less than a month’s time.

“My hair is fine,” Jaina’s voice was quiet and deceptively calm-sounding as she shut her book
and reached up to give the servant’s hand a gentle nudge and a squeeze as though to soften the
blow of being dismissed. “Thank you, Isabelle.”

Jaina would never offend her, or any of the women who really kept things running around here,
really. They were the only ones that didn’t look at her like she’d grown horns.

“Of course, Lady Jaina,”

Isabelle gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and avoided Katherine’s gaze entirely as she slipped
out of the room.

Jaina would have avoided her, too, had she not been utterly unavoidable for the past few weeks.
Funny, considering how little her mother had had to do with her for a great majority of her life.

“They’ll be here soon, you know,” Katherine stated the obvious as she was apt to do, and Jaina
looked into the mirror to respond because that wasn’t quite as anxiety-inducing as looking
directly at her.

“I know,” Jaina tapped her fingertips against her book. An old, worn volume on the language of
Elves. It had been new when she’d received it many years ago. It was almost falling apart, now.
“You seem as though you are having a more difficult time of dealing with this than I am,
Mother. I can’t imagine you’re going to miss me. What is it, then?”

Katherine sighed heavily and turned her attention away from her daughter, clearly frustrated and
doing nothing to hide it.

“Don’t be this way, Jaina. It isn’t necessary. I just hope you’ll behave yourself.”

“I’m a grown woman, Mother. Set to meet the envoy of my future Lord this morning. You
needn’t remind me to behave myself,” Jaina, unlike her mother, hadn’t turned her gaze away.
She saw a flash of some emotion - maybe guilt, maybe agitation. Likely in response to the
aforementioned guilt.

Jaina didn’t feel much sympathy, but she did finally release Katherine from her own scrutiny. It
wasn’t that Jaina was actually a danger despite how even her own mother squirmed under her
attention. No, the soft undercurrent of power that fizzled just before it made itself known wasn’t
a threat, in Jaina’s opinion. It was just something different about her. It always had been.

Sure, there had been a mishap or two. A frozen handpie here, a scorch mark on a stone wall
there. But she’d never hurt anyone. She would never.
Yet, here they were. Here they had been. For years.

Jaina probably should’ve been terrified of leaving behind everything she’d ever known. She
probably should have had a healthy fear of their Northerly neighbors and all of their ageless,
mystical power.

But the only thing Jaina was scared of, really, was the possibility she might lose her lifeline out
of this place. Sure, she had the treaty riding on her shoulders. The possibility of lasting peace
between her own people and a people they all believed could simply remove them from this
world like a splinter in their heel.

From time to time, however, Jaina allowed herself to be selfish.

And damnit, she wanted out.

Her thoughts stalled to a halt when the hairs of her arms rose as she was overcome by the
strangest feeling.

“Mother...when are they arriving?”

“Not for an hour, at least,” Katherine explained, now standing up across the room to examine
her own hair and clothing in a mirror being held up for her. Jaina wasn’t sure how her mother
could even see herself, it was always so dark here in her rooms with no outer walls that might let
a little sunlight in.

“Why do you ask, Jaina?”

Before Jaina could even dismiss the odd sensation she was pushing back down where it had
risen in her chest, it amplified. Doubled over itself and crashed down over her so fiercely she felt
breathless.

It was only a moment later that footsteps echoed down the hallway to her chambers. The frantic
footsteps of a sprinting page who burst through her door with the only excuse for such an
intrusion Katherine might ever deign valid.

“My Ladies, they’re...the...you should come to the Great Hall. They came through a...a...I don’t
know. Some type of…”

“A portal,” Jaina said, unsure which squirreled away, forbidden book she’d pulled that word
from. She only knew she was right. “They used portal magic.”

“Well. Whatever it was, it’s caused quite a disturbance. Please come. At haste. Lord Greymane
is with them, now. And he’s…”

“Terrible at such things, of course,” Katherine said, her natural propensity for getting a handle
on out-of-control situations rearing its head as it always did. She wasn’t even certain why she’d
allowed herself to be talked into having him attend such a pivotal visit. Perhaps she was losing
her edge. “Jaina, come.”

They were halfway down the hallway by the time Jaina finally gathered her thoughts and steeled
herself, expecting to round the corner to the sight of some exotic entourage of power. At least
enough to fill half a banquet table, if her past experiences with such envoys the minor human
Lords sent from the outer edges of their kingdom for trade arrangements and tributes were
anything to go by.

It was only natural she was rather taken aback by the sight of two women being fawned over by
overly-eager attendees of their Court. One of them in armor finer than anything Jaina had ever
seen - her hair a blaze of red - her tabard of fine silk adorned with a symbol Jaina didn’t
recognize despite all of her studies.

The other woman, however, was nigh indescribable. Smaller than the lady knight that Jaina
could only assume was her escort. Yet there was something about her that seemed to command
the focus of the entirety of the Great Hall and all of its occupants. Jaina didn’t recognize any of
the symbols of power she wore. The fine silver circlet that rested above her brow could’ve
meant anything. Her dress, the same. Black as night and cut to expose her broad, strong
shoulders.

Jaina couldn’t imagine being allowed to wear a dress like that. To expose so much of herself.
Perhaps that’s why she seemed so powerful. That, or the bright, almost white-blue glow of her
eyes that shone like steel. It might have even been the very faint curve of her lips. Easy and sure
as she inspected the people around her. Unbothered.

Jaina wondered if this woman was pleased with herself for throwing a wrench in their plans. For
ruining all the carefully plotted acts. The announcements and the peacockery that Jaina hated so
much.

She hoped so.

At least, until those steely eyes landed on her from across the room not a moment after she’d
entered it. Jaina had no idea how she’d been spotted so easily. So quickly.

To Lireesa, she was a beacon. A sun in a room full of dead or dying stars.

The little curve on the lips of the woman now watching her shifted into a smile, then. A slow,
easy smile that faded a moment later when the greying man in front of her seemed to demand
more of her attention.

Of course, it would be Greymane trying to have her ear. Who else?

It didn’t take too terribly long for everyone to realize both Katherine and Jaina had entered the
fray. The sea of fawners parted immediately for Katherine’s stately presence and equally stately
approach. Her chin was lifted unnecessarily high. She had at least a head of height on the darker-
haired elf. Slightly less on her knight, yet still, Katherine looked as ridiculous to Jaina as any of
the others in attendance did.

Katherine held out her hand.

The dark-haired woman glanced at it.

“I would be more than pleased to introduce you both to Lady Katherine Proudmoore,”
Greymane announced with great pride - speaking in a volume that suggested he wasn’t entirely
sure these women would understand him.
Jaina could have sworn she saw the lady knight smirk from across the room. She could have
sworn.

“We both appreciate your introduction, I’m certain, Lord Greymane” Liadrin responded, taking
Katherine’s hand to spare her the embarrassment of her misplaced gesture going ignored. She
inclined her head to Katherine only slightly before she continued speaking.

“I am Lady Liadrin. Knight-escort of the Queen of the North.”

Katherine looked stricken. The entire room fell utterly silent.

“Lady Lireesa, if you please,” said the dark-haired elf, easily adopting terminology those
surrounding them might better understand much like Liadrin had. “It is lovely to meet you after
all these years. I am here primarily, however, for the Lady Jaina.”

Her voice sounded like the steel her eyes seemed to be forged of. It cut through everything. It
left no one in the room with any doubt as to who this might be. As to the power that might lie
beneath the simple circlet she wore.

“Of course,” Katherine responded with an overly polite smile as those around her floundered
visibly for something to do or say. Most of them settled, inevitably, for wandering towards the
edges of the Hall and the warmth of the grand fireplaces that lined it. Even Greymane seemed
inclined to shy away from them. Or, more specifically, from Lireesa. “I’ll send for her at once.”

“No need, is there?” Lireesa asked with a faint tilt of her head. “Is she not right over there?”

Perhaps Katherine had forgotten her daughter had walked in with her.

Again, she looked as though a rug had been pulled out from under her feet. There was also no
small amount of confusion about her in regards to how, exactly, Lireesa had recognized her
daughter.

Jaina moved forward because there was only so much second-hand embarrassment she could
take on her mother’s behalf, and because she was sure this would all somehow be her fault when
it came down to it.

Lireesa’s entire demeanor seemed to shift in her presence. There was a smile again. Captivating.
Disarming. But Jaina knew better than to think there was some type of magic being worked on
her. She knew that better than anyone in the room save for their visitors.

“Lady Lireesa,” Jaina greeted in an even, pleasant tone. “It's so good to meet you.”

“And it is very good indeed to meet you, as well,” Lireesa said, and Jaina smiled. A smile that
she meant. For the first time in a long time.
“Do you want to know a secret, Jaina?” Lireesa asked as she strolled along slowly and
comfortably at Jaina’s side. They'd only just arrived in the castle’s gardens and Lireesa found
them exactly as underwhelming as she imagined.

Jaina was almost taken aback by Lireesa’s conspiratorial tone. This was the first thing Lireesa
had said to her since her mother had paired off with Liadrin for a similar stroll at Lireesa’s
urging.

“Whatever you wish to tell me, Lady Lireesa, I wish to learn.”

Lireesa hummed in the back of her throat and brushed her hand along the top of the hedge that
lined their path.

“Lady Liadrin is bored out of her skull right now,” Lireesa said in a tone that suggested this fact
very much amused her. “And I will get an earful about it when we arrive home. About cold,
mucky gardens and how she despises politics. I do so love to keep her on her toes.”

Jaina didn't know how to respond at first. She didn't know if there was a proper way to do so.
She simply smiled quietly to herself as Lireesa watched from the corner of her eye.

“You have a lovely smile, Jaina,” Lireesa complimented as she looked away. She found this
garden, like all gardens, peaceful despite its lack of imagination. The cold didn't bother her
nearly as much as it did Liadrin despite the fact that she wasn't at all dressed for winter. Jaina
wondered about that as they kept walking.

“You are quiet, though,” Lireesa mused. “But I see the sharpness in your eyes. Is it customary,
then? That you not speak?”

“Many things are customary,” Jaina responded as she held her own hands behind her back and
watched the cobbled stones of the walkway pass beneath her slippered feet. She tried not to look
at Lireesa overly much. She really did. But she was curious by her very nature, and there were
so many things about Lireesa that drew every ounce of that curiosity out of her. “You speak our
language as though you always have.”

“I have spoken your language since your kingdom was stick and stone and mud, Jaina. As such,
your customs mean little to me. Particularly the ones that would make you wary of speaking to
your betrothed’s mother. You seem the type of young woman who has so many thoughts in her
head. What a shame to lock them all away.”

Jaina hadn't ever really been spoken to like this. Like an equal. And by this woman in particular,
no less.

“I believe my people and my family think what is in my head is dangerous,” Jaina responded,
wondering if she shouldn't have said that almost the moment the words fell from her lips.

“Magic,” Lireesa said the word, and Jaina looked over at her almost searchingly to find her
looking right back.

“Yes, My Lady.”
“A gift,” Lireesa looked almost pleased when she said it. “And in you, a surprisingly strong one.
I saw you without seeing you the moment you walked into that room. A fleck of brilliance
among the brown and grey. There are countless competent teachers of its art in your future
kingdom. In Quel’Thalas.”

“It hadn't occurred to me that I might learn how to...well. I suppose a lot of things have likely
never occurred to me.”

“You will do whatever you wish, Jaina. Study whatever you wish. Have whatever passions you
wish to have. I wanted to meet you almost solely to reassure you of all this.”

Jaina nodded her understanding because the very idea of all this was almost profound to her.
Marriage seemed such a minuscule sacrifice for such freedom. Such opportunity.

“You call to mind the image of a songbird in a cage, Jaina. One who has lost her melody. The
thing about songbirds is that all you need do to return their voice to them is open the door. They
will do the rest all on their own.”

The longer they spoke, the more Jaina grew familiar with the delicate, lilting accent of Lireesa’s
speech. The more she found it as captivating as the woman it came from.

“Most women of my status hardly have the door opened for them in such a way. Most are simply
transferred to another cage.”

Jaina sounded to Lireesa so much older than her years, then. She couldn't imagine such a fate.

“No cages for you, Jaina. We do not believe in such things where I come from. You need never
fear such a fate befalling you.”

For the first time since their walk began, Jaina heard a subtle change in Lireesa's tone. She
looked over at her questioningly and saw an almost alarming darkness in her eyes before her
expression softened into something apologetic.

“Forgive me, Jaina. I don't mean to pass judgment. It is only that I think such things are utterly
vile,”

Jaina smiled again then. A little laugh bubbled in her throat.

A lovely laugh, Lireesa thought.

“That was an interesting apology,” Jaina observed, and Lireesa’s eyes glinted with something
akin to mischief.

“Perhaps because I am not at all sorry,” Lireesa offered, and Jaina’s face brightened again.

It was inevitable that they would run into Katherine and Lady Liadrin again sooner or later.
Unfortunately, in Jaina’s opinion, it was sooner. That was an opinion Liadrin didn't appear to
share if her stiff shoulders and the almost imperceptible narrowing of her eyes in Lireesa’s
direction were anything to go by.
“Did you enjoy your walk?” Lireesa asked, ignoring the would-be glare in favor of smiling at
her.

“Oh, very much so,” Liadrin remarked. “Lady Katherine was just telling me about the rarity of
the particular kind of hedge required to make these inventive archways.”

Lireesa thought of their mage-lit, wondrous gardens at home, and her smile widened into
something only Liadrin recognized as the smile of a woman who was having far too much fun
considering the circumstances.

“Oh?” Lireesa asked before turning her attention to Katherine. “Are they particularly hard to
come by?”

By the time Katherine was done talking about the hedges again, it was apparent even to Jaina
that Liadrin wanted very much to disappear inside of her very impressive armor.

Jaina had so enjoyed the company she'd been keeping that morning that she was almost morose
when they began to part ways. Katherine was unconcerned. She was far more worried about
changing for the day's feast than she was about hedges, now.

Lireesa smiled at Katherine faintly in acknowledgment when she took her leave after promising
a page would be sent soon thereafter to take them to freshen up.

“I'll wait with you,” Jaina offered quietly as she looked away from the retreating form of her
mother to Liadrin and Lireesa instead. “All of these halls look the same. I wouldn't want to leave
you in them.”

“That won't be necessary, though your offer is very kind and much appreciated. I would much
rather walk you to your rooms and find Liadrin once I have. You needn't worry about either of
us getting lost.”

Jaina wasn't sure that was the proper thing to do. All she knew was that any chance to spend
more time in the presence of Lireesa was a chance she couldn't pass up.

Unfortunately, the walk was a short one. Just two turns and Jaina was coming to a stop outside
her chamber doors.

Lireesa recognized the look on her face, of course. The reluctance there mingled with
apprehension. And now that they were alone, she took Jaina’s hand in her own and gave it a
gentle squeeze.

“This is not your fate, Jaina. Cages and hedges and wordy men to speak for you as though you
cannot speak for yourself,” Lireesa said quietly. Far too quietly for anyone but Jaina to hear.
“And this is only the first of many, many walks and just as many talks we will share. This, I can
promise you.”

Jaina looked to find the gentleness from earlier had returned to Lireesa’s features. Sharp and
scarred though they were, they were equally as soft when Jaina met and held her gaze rather
fearlessly.
“I only hope you are pleased with me and with your choice,” Jaina said as she slowly let her
hand slip away from Lireesa’s.

“I am so very pleased, Jaina. Make no mistake about that.”

Lireesa felt a faint flux in the magic Jaina held inside herself like chained lightning, and she let
out a soft, breathy sound. An almost-laugh, yet nothing belittling. There wasn't a whole lot about
Lireesa that Jaina didn't find surprisingly comforting, actually.

“And we will help you with that, as well.”

“You see so much?” Jaina asked, her brows furrowing as she reigned herself in as best she could
without truly knowing how.

“I feel,” Lireesa corrected gently. “As you will someday learn to do as well.”

“When you arrived earlier, it felt as though something quite large perched itself upon my chest,”
Jaina admitted this as though it were a secret. But then, she was very used to keeping such things
a secret. “I've never been near anything like it before, but I guessed what it was. I have a few
books. I keep them under my bed.”

“Portal magic is rather volatile. Anyone who is sensitive to it would feel it from quite some
distance. But I'm guessing you may have known that?”

“I read it once or twice. Or a dozen,” Jaina offered almost sheepishly. “Something like that.”

Lireesa’s smile was more than enough reward, to Jaina, for her honesty, yet Lireesa wasn't
stopping at merely a smile.

“There are entire libraries in our capitol city devoted to magic. Two in the palace alone. And you
needn't hide any book you may find in them under your bed.”

As much as Jaina wanted to linger, she knew all too well if she wasn't changed and ready before
her mother returned she would be in for an earful, and Lireesa - ever perceptive - gathered as
much when Jaina shifted ever so slightly towards her door.

“This all sounds too good to be true,” Jaina admitted.

“It's all quite true, Jaina. You'll see soon enough. For now, I fear I must go find my noble escort
lest she get caught up in another conversation revolving around horticulture. It's simply not her
strong suit.”

Once Lireesa had her smiling again, she seemed satisfied to leave and rescue Liadrin from any
would-be garden enthusiasts, and Jaina slipped into her room riding higher than she likely ever
had. She'd nearly forgotten how she'd feared she might ask Lireesa about her betrothed. That
much, at least, Jaina had managed to refrain from. She needed no reminders that the elves
offered infinitely more than her own kingdom could offer in return. To seem choosy in any
regard wasn't something Jaina could allow herself.

Besides, Jaina wasn't feeling particularly choosy, anyway. No matter who it was she would be
marrying, she believed Lireesa and all the promises that had been made simply because Lireesa
needn't have promised anything at all. And any one of those promises was more than Jaina ever
could have hoped for here.
 The Royal Spymaster

“Lireesa! We're being overrun!”

Lireesa’s eyes blazed as she turned on her heel to face the direction that voice had come from.
Liadrin’s voice. Hoarse from shouting orders and from days without proper food and drink.

It had all come down to this moment, hadn't it?

Lireesa sheathed her sword slowly as she watched Liadrin cut down yet another foe.

“Call the retreat,” Lireesa responded, her sharp eyes surveying the battlefield beneath the ridge
they were ascending. “Now!”

Liadrin faltered with her hand near the horn at her hip, and she stared at Lireesa as snow fell
against her hair and her armor - mottling the darkness of it with white.

“Lireesa-”

“That was an order! I will call it myself!” Lireesa’s eyes blazed with the power that echoed in
her voice, and Liadrin nearly stumbled back from the force of it.
The horn was blown. The path they'd cut up the ridge for just this purpose became a stampede of
elven warriors.

Lireesa stayed atop the ridge watching the trolls give chase. Far too slowly. Elves were much
faster. Much nimbler.

Well.

Except for their wounded. Still struggling in the snow. Helpless.

“So many,” Lireesa whispered as the din of battle slowly faded to the back of her senses. Her
vision ran as red as the bloodied snow beneath the fallen of her army.

So many, she thought, as she lifted a hand slowly towards the sky.

Too many, she thought, as the winter wind whipped her cloak around her body just before she
called the fire. Just before the valley was engulfed in a storm of flame.

That was the thing about fire. It didn't pick and choose. It had no empathy. No self-control. Only
hunger.

The screams of her own people pulled her back as they burned. Back into reality. Into the
harshness and the coldness of it as snow and bodies alike sizzled in the wake of her destruction.
Her own clothing was smoking from the heat of it. The skin of her face - blistering. She could
hear Liadrin leading what remained of their army higher up the ridge.

She called the fire back into herself, then. And the sight of what she'd left in the aftermath
burned into her vision with a fierceness even her own magic would never match.

Nothing remained of the last great troll army.

Just as nothing remained of those that hadn't been able to heed the call of Liadrin’s horn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lireesa?”

Liadrin hung back near the smoldering hearth of the queen’s parlor. She'd only walked in a
moment earlier, and might have left just as quickly when she found Lireesa sleeping in her
sitting chair with a book laying across her lap. She might have, if Lireesa weren't breathing in a
way that was almost frantic in the dying light of the coals of the fireplace.

With a murmur and a wave of her hand, Liadrin activated the mage lights around the room, but
only dimly, and moved forward to kneel by Lireesa’s chair.

Even now, she was careful of waking her from a dream, or from a nightmare, whatever the case
might have been. She was always careful of alarming Lireesa. And the only way, really, to catch
her off-guard was to wake her when she was sleeping heavily. A dangerous venture, indeed.

“Lireesa?” Liadrin carefully placed a gloved hand near Lireesa’s where it lay on the arm of her
chair, and even that small intrusion was enough for Lireesa’s eyes to snap open.
The glowing coals nearby reflected in them strangely. Harkening to a time long past. The sight
sent a chill up Liadrin’s spine.

“Forgive me for waking you,” Liadrin said quietly, removing her hand from the chair. She stayed
kneeling though. Perhaps out of respect. More likely out of concern. “I’d heard you weren't in
the best of moods when you received word upon our return that Sylvanas was called away. They
told me you wouldn't take your dinner.”

“I wasn't hungry,” Lireesa stated simply as she rose from her chair and shut her book before
tossing it onto the now-empty cushion. “I'm still not.”

“Let me bring you something small at least,” Liadrin urged as she stood and followed Lireesa
across the parlor towards a decanter of wine on the table Lireesa had only just shared with her
daughter that same morning.

“Liadrin, don't be a pest,” Lireesa’s words likely would have stung if they had any emotion at all
in them. They didn't. She sounded almost hollow. And then she sighed. “You are a knight. Not a
servant.”

Liadrin rested her hand on the sword hanging from her belt and looked down at the marble floor
beneath her polished boots. The moonlight outside had turned it a pale yet pleasant grey-blue. It
might have looked almost dreary were the melancholy of it all not so beautiful.

“What did you dream?” Liadrin asked, slowly lifting her eyes to rest upon Lireesa once again.

Lireesa held her wine glass delicately in her hand. She looked almost statuesque in the
moonlight that flooded in through the windows she was standing near. Looking out over her
kingdom, and at nothing, in particular, all at once.

“You should go to the pools for a soak and then have the cooks make you something special. I
do appreciate you having accompanied me today. I appreciate you keeping the girl’s mother
occupied even more.”

Again, Lireesa spoke flawlessly. There wasn't even any rasp of sleep in her voice. She could
have just as easily been addressing her trade council.

Liadrin took a step back and nodded.

“Of course, My Lady. Thank you,” she allowed the more familiar terms they were usually on to
fall by the wayside. It simply wasn't worth it. She would gain nothing by pushing this further,
and she had no desire to make anything difficult on her Queen. Things were more than difficult
enough as it was.

“Goodnight, Liadrin,” Lireesa said just before she took a sip of her wine.

Liadrin thought, then, that the moonlight made her look like another column just like the others
in this room the way it washed out her pale skin. Unmoving. Constant. Breathtaking grey-blue
melancholy.

Lireesa had never found as much joy in the sun as the rest of their people.
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liadrin ascended the spiraling stairs to the bathing pools slowly. She'd been in her armor all day,
and she wasn't used to it. Even the queen’s knights had little reason for such displays anymore.
So it had been for centuries.

As such, she was glad to drop down heavily from the last step into the steam that hovered above
the pools and caught their soft blue light - dispersing it throughout the room.

Such power it had taken to rend the springs from their ageless paths. Such strength of will it had
taken to re-route them to the palace for purely recreational purposes. Or perhaps it had been
arrogance.

The night’s attendant began unbuckling her armor for her as she stood next to the landing of the
stairs. It would be taken away to be polished and stowed in her suite. There would be a soft linen
shirt and pants waiting for her when she was done.

Such was the way of things.

One had to put effort into expending any effort, now. Training, at least, was something Liadrin
could still do by herself. And she had had a rather taxing session very early that morning to work
away some of her nerves before her and Lireesa’s long-awaited visit.

Her sore muscles were that much more reason for her to pad across the steam-dampened floors
with a towel over her shoulder to the furthest pool. One meant for privacy, in its own little
alcove with silk hangings in its archway.

Liadrin let out a heavy sigh as she took her first step into the scalding water. It was blissful. The
next moments found her laying her towel on the edge of the pool and sinking into one of the
seats that lined the bottom of it. Molded from the stone itself to provide more comfort than such
material should ever have been able to provide. The slopes in the side, too, were set at just the
right height to cradle the back of one’s neck if one were so inclined.

Liadrin, tonight, was very inclined to spread her legs out into the water and drape her arms along
the edge of the pool. She was even inclined to watch the way the ripples of light danced gently
along the low stone ceiling through the steam.

Her minor aches and stiffness dissipated quickly, because these weren't simple pools, of course.
Nothing was simple in Quel’Thalas. The heat of the water did a fine job hiding its healing
magic. The warmth of spells long ago set into the very stone basins mingled and blurred with the
water lapping slowly just above Liadrin’s chest.

She'd only just begun to doze when a sound startled her out of her in-between state of
consciousness. The sound of clothing hitting a stone floor.

Liadrin blinked up at the woman who had walked through the silk barrier between her private
pool and the rest of the bathing room, and her jaw clenched immediately.

“This is a private pool. The attendant wouldn't have allowed anyone past the curtain.”
“Right as always, Liadrin,” Valeera responded as she lifted her hands to pull her impossibly long
ponytail further up into a barely-managed bun. “A shame I had to kill him.”

Liadrin mostly felt as though this was sarcasm. You could never really tell with Valeera, though.

And just like that, Valeera was slipping into the pool directly across from Liadrin. She chose a
seat that kept everything but her lower half above the water and spread her arms out along the
edge with a sigh.

"What are you doing?" Liadrin asked, sounding just as agitated as Valeera had expected her to.

"Minding my business, but that might not be something you're familiar with,” Valeera’s drawl
came out almost bored as she lifted her head from where she'd lain it back to eye Liadrin over
the steamy surface of the water.

“Very rich coming from the Royal Spymaster,” Liadrin muttered, as though Valeera wouldn't
hear her, at exactly the correct volume for Valeera to hear her.

“Is this a noble-knights-only pool?” Valeera asked with a lift of one of her brows as she gestured
vaguely toward the room beyond the curtain. “I saw no signage to suggest-”

“Can you at least stop talking if you insist upon being here?” Liadrin asked before Valeera could
finish her sentence.

“I was just fine not talking when I got in the pool. You're the conversationalist, here. And
anyway, I need a briefing on the girl.”

“You really couldn't wait until morning for that?” Liadrin asked with a flick of one of her ears.
“And you call her ‘girl’ as though you're significantly older.”

Valeera snorted derisively before she responded.

“Yes. Girl. Now, what can you tell me about her?”

Liadrin looked as though she had thoroughly given up at this point, because she had.

“She’s...contained. Measured in every way imaginable. Strange, actually, to think someone

could be so polished at twenty years of age,” Liadrin trailed off and regarded Valeera silently for
a beat or two. “Please be kind to her, Valeera. She isn't a new source of amusement for you.”

It was Valeera’s turn to be silent, then, as she slipped further into the water. Her expression
remained unreadable and impassive despite the sting of Liadrin’s words.

“You think I’m as terrible as all that? That I would risk so much for my own entertainment?”
She asked as she lifted her chin almost imperceptibly and trailed her fingertips along the surface
of the water.

Valeera ‘tsk’d and shook her head before Liadrin could answer her. “Of course, you do.”

Liadrin felt the faintest tinge of guilt, then. It was easy to express her distaste. Easy to pretend
she was better than a former criminal. Mostly because Valeera was such a clear and physical
representation of how close they all were to being what they'd been. Being capable of what
they'd done.

But Liadrin had never been very good at being honest with herself.

“No,” Liadrin finally said with a faint shrug. “No, I don't think that. I know you’ve settled for
terrorizing me.”

Valeera exhaled through her nose and smirked.

“A stunning woman slipping naked into your hot pool. How agonizing,” Valeera mused. “Most
of your noble friends would be frothing at the mouth.”

“Haven't you already made your rounds with all of my noble friends?” Liadrin asked without
missing a beat.

“Yes. Unfortunately, Kelantir is otherwise occupied this evening,”

Liadrin tried to cut Valeera off, then. Unsuccessfully. The lift of her hand in an attempted protest
was utterly disregarded.

“And Cyssa is still at the border. A tragedy. And under your orders, no less. You leave me with
no one to keep my bed warm and then you complain when I wind up in your pool. Imagine
being so self-sabotaging.”

Liadrin realized she was out of witty retorts the moment she opened her mouth to speak. She
shut it again and clenched her jaw and made a move to get out of the pool.

“Sit down,” Valeera’s tone was so different from the one she usually used with her that Liadrin
actually listened to her.

Valeera lifted herself from the pool, instead.

“Good girl,” she muttered, gathering Liadrin’s towel from the side of the pool and wrapping it
around herself. “Enjoy your sulk. You're really sexy when you sulk by yourself for absolutely no
reason.”

Liadrin’s jaw stayed clenched throughout their entire rather one-sided final exchange. She didn't
complain that her towel had been stolen. Maybe she deserved it.

And maybe it was her silence that had Valeera pausing as she pushed the sheer curtain aside to
leave.

She looked back at Liadrin thoughtfully as she leaned against the side of the arched entrance.

Liadrin looked back at her almost questioningly.

Valeera slipped away before the moment could stretch on long enough to become something
more, and Liadrin finally exhaled.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so exhausted. Between the trip and the awful,
bland feast. She was tired. She was hungry. And she didn't have time to wonder why she was the
one feeling guilty for this particular talk when they'd had a hundred other such talks that hadn't
been any different.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sylvanas knew she shouldn't be bothering her mother at this hour. It was tactless and
inappropriate. Positively indecent to be standing outside the door to her inner suite maybe an
hour before the sun was set to rise.

But she'd been riding back from the border all night, and her thoughts were too muddled for
sleep. Even if they weren't, she was anxious.

She knew she didn't need to knock. The wards around the palace were incomprehensibly strong.
Nearly as old as the marble that had shaped the columns that lined the corridors.

It wasn't long before the door was creaking open to reveal Lireesa wrapped in a dark robe not
looking the least bit sleepy.

“I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour,” Sylvanas said quietly as she shuffled her weight from one
foot to the other in the doorway.

“My darling girl, come in. You are never a disturbance,” Lireesa’s tone was warm and gentle as
she took a step back to allow her daughter passage. “What business were you tending to today?”

Sylvanas didn't respond right away. She was busy removing her cloak and her boots by the door
because she hadn't even bothered to change when she'd gotten back to the capital.

“Dar’Khan said one of his mage units had gone silent,” she finally explained as she turned to
face her mother with a weary expression on her face. “I would have sent someone in my stead
had he not asked me directly, and in front of Rommath, no less.”

Lireesa hummed in the back of her throat and looked Sylvanas over quickly as they moved
further into her rooms. Within a step or two, Lireesa was satisfied she was unscathed without
needing to ask. Lireesa knew Sylvanas well enough that even the faintest injury would’ve been
apparent to her.

“A menial task. Is the unit lost?” Lireesa asked in an even tone as she offered Sylvanas a seat on
the sofa they’d been heading towards.

“No,” Sylvanas’s response was simple in a way that was simultaneously weighted, and Lireesa
looked at her questioningly. “No, their attunement eroded. They couldn’t reach the capital.”

Sylvanas’s gaze met her mother’s and didn’t falter. She was one of the few people who could
look Lireesa in the eye. Even Dar’Khan sometimes struggled with such displays.

It was Lireesa who looked away. Farther than just ‘away’, really. It was almost as though she left
the room for a moment as her eyes half-focused on the unopened wine bottle on the table in
front of them.

“I’ll speak to Dar’Khan,” She finally said after a moment or two. “We can’t afford a loss of
communications now.”
“No, we cannot,” Sylvanas agreed, and when she realized her knee was bouncing faintly she
stopped it immediately and crossed her legs to prevent any further display of nerves. “And you?
How are you faring after the day’s journey?”

None of the worry Sylvanas felt made its way into her tone. She needn’t have bothered hiding it,
though. Lireesa could almost taste it on her tongue. Thick and unwanted and bitter.

“You needn’t concern yourself with my well-being,” Lireesa reassured gently, because that much
was true. Sylvanas’s concern wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change the ache in her
joints or the hollowness gnawing at her insides.

The bottle of mana wine she was now opening would soften the sharpness of it all, though. She
poured them each a healthy glass.

“I have a feeling, dear daughter, that the reason for your visit has much less to do with me and
much more to do with your betrothed. Am I wrong?” There was a little half-smile playing at
Lireesa’s lips, and the tension that had risen to a fever pitch in the room began lessening before
it could become too much.

“Perhaps,” Sylvanas reached for the glass her mother offered her and held it in her lap as she
looked down into it. It glowed faintly in the dim light that had only just begun filtering in
through the windows of her mother’s expansive bed-chamber. A strong vintage. They had only
gotten stronger over the years, especially of late. “I had hoped to be here when you returned. It’s
been on my mind since you left.”

“It’s been on your mind for years,” Lireesa responded with a soft chuckle. “It only makes sense
you would be nearly frantic about it by now. She’s lovely, Sylvanas. Soft in a way that we are
not. Smart. Tragically repressed in every facet of her life, yet defiant beneath it all despite
everything.”

Lireesa couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Sylvanas pay such rapt attention to her.
When she was younger, perhaps. Not that Sylvanas was old, though she usually showed no hint
of her youth. It showed now, though. In the openness of her expression and the faint movements
of her ears as though she were imagining the reasoning behind her mother’s words.

It made Lireesa’s heart ache with love.

“She is also beautiful,” Lireesa continued as she reached out to catch Sylvanas’s cheek in her
palm to cradle it gently. “The two of you will take the very air out of every room you enter
together.”

Sylvanas swallowed thickly as her eyelids fluttered for a moment. She couldn’t help the way she
smiled as she dropped her head and turned her face towards her mother’s hand.

Lireesa’s heart ached for a very different reason, then. For all the women who had used Sylvanas
to get near to her and to the power of their family. For all the women who hadn’t loved her
daughter for her brilliance and her beauty and her kindness.
“I think she will love you, in time,” Lireesa whispered, moving her hand, now, to stroke through
the loose waves of her daughter’s hair. “I wish for nothing more than for you to find your equal
in this life, Sylvanas. One who deserves you. This may not be ideal. It may not be the way you
might have wanted it to happen. But I have hope.”

“So do I,” Sylvanas sighed, and her breath shook slightly on its way out.

Relief, Lireesa realized with a soft smile. Deserved.

Sylvanas deserved that relief as much as she deserved what she desperately hoped Jaina would
provide her.

“Hold onto it, then,” Lireesa said with a soft sigh as she moved closer and opened her arm to
Sylvanas until she was tucked in against her side. “Even when the day of your marriage comes.
And especially on the day after, and the day after that. Love isn’t magic, darling girl. It is,
perhaps, the only thing in this world we don’t control. I think that’s what makes it beautiful. I
know that’s what makes me want it so terribly for you.”

Sylvanas found comfort in the warmth of her mother in a way she wouldn’t have sought out on
her own, though she gladly accepted it, now.

Lireesa watched the windows across the room as shadows of birds flitted across them from the
inner courtyard of the palace - enjoying the gardens and the sun of a new day. All the while, she
stroked slowly through Sylvanas’s hair - listening idly to her breathing as it began to slow.

“You should rest,” Lireesa murmured, only half-present, now. “You’ve been up for far too long.
There is no war. No great threat. You needn’t push yourself so hard.”

Sylvanas’s eyes opened slowly as she listened to her mother’s words and strained to believe
them. They were true, after all. They were technically true. And they would tide her over for
another day. They would soften the edge of anxiety surrounding her impending union with a
young woman she had never met.

Lireesa was helping her up a moment later and pressing the half-empty bottle they’d been
sharing into her hand as she guided her to the door. Once there, Sylvanas found herself being
helped back into her cloak and her boots much to her sleepy amusement.

“Thank you, Mother,” Sylvanas sighed as Lireesa opened the door for her and gave her shoulder
a gentle squeeze.

“Of course,” Lireesa stayed half in the hallway when Sylvanas lingered, and her eyes searched
her daughter’s face for a moment as her mind sought out what words might send her to bed.
“You know, not many of our kind will ever have the opportunity to show their partner through
their own actions what love can be.”

“Because our kind is allowed to love,” Sylvanas responded simply with a furrow between her
brows. Perhaps for the first time, she reflected upon her future bride’s situation with something
other than disdain. It was a shift so sudden and so apparent that even Lireesa noticed it
happening. “I do hope to make her happy. Do you think that I will?”
“I know that you will,” Lireesa responded without hesitation. “All you need do is allow her to
know you. I know this because I know you, and my heart would be lost without you.”

Despite the softness of her tone, Lireesa meant those words infinitely more than she meant most
things. The conviction in them seemed to be more than adequate appeasement for Sylvanas’s
worries. At least for now. But then, she was so tired that she was sagging slightly. Too tired for
self-doubt to keep her from retreating to her own wing of the palace. To the comfort of her own
bed and her quiet, solitary rooms.

Solitary, at least, for a little while longer.

 Distractions

Lireesa had a smile at the ready when Sylvanas’s door opened for her. It was late, but Lireesa
very much understood her daughter’s need for company. Tomorrow was a big day for her, after
all.

“Thank you for seeing me,” Sylvanas said in a tone that sounded almost foreign even to Lireesa.
“Here, I mean.”

“Why wouldn’t I see you?” Lireesa asked in a murmur as she shut the door behind herself. “I
would walk to the ends of the world for you - the trek to your room is quite doable.”

Sylvanas cleared her throat and tried to smile as Lireesa looked her over with a furrow between
her brows. Lireesa had never seen her fighting so hard against nerves. In fact, she couldn’t
remember the last time she’d seen her daughter nervous, at all.

It moved something in Lireesa. It made her ache in an unfamiliar way.

“Sylvanas,” She reached out, then, and took her daughter’s hand gently into her own. “If you are
having second thoughts, I will go inform them, myself, that the union is to be called off
immediately. I won’t think twice.”
Sylvanas’s eyes flashed up to her mother’s face. There was shock etched into her features.
Lireesa didn’t waver.

“I’m not,” Sylvanas said quickly as she gave her mother’s hand a squeeze and slowly released it
from her own. “I’m not, you have my word. I’m only,” she sighed, and the breath shuddered on
its way past her lips. “I’m nervous.”

“I know,” Lireesa whispered, lifting her now-free hand to rest against the sides of Sylvanas’s
face. “You’re allowed that, you know. You’re allowed to feel. I wish you showed me more. I
hate to see you burdened so.”

“You have enough,” Sylvanas responded simply. Weakly. “More than enough without my own
troubles added to your own.”

“Add them,” Lireesa responded as she let her hand fall to Sylvanas’s shoulder and gripped it
tightly through the silk of her sleep shirt. “Add them freely. To take your burdens from you, even
for a time, would lighten my own. I hate this heaviness in my heart. It aches for you. Sit with me
for a while and be my child instead of all the other things that you are.”

Sylvanas was still and silent for a moment despite how sure her mother sounded. Despite the
unfamiliar plea in her tone. But only for a moment before she took a single step forward and
slipped her arms around Lireesa for a hug that she sorely, desperately needed.

Lireesa was more than ready, of course, to stand there and cradle her daughter’s head against her
shoulder until she was ready to pull away. Perhaps that moment came sooner than Lireesa might
have expected it to - but that was before she saw Sylvanas quickly reach to wipe some gathered
dampness from her eyes.

She didn’t comment on it. She simply followed Sylvanas across the room to a thick, plush pile
of cushions situated in one of its corners.

Lireesa would’ve been lying if she’d said she didn’t enjoy this. The simple comfort of being
needed by her child. The painful rarity of sitting with her and listening to her worries and her
fears. Nothing out of the ordinary. Pre-wedding jitters. More questions about Jaina. Most,
questions that Lireesa couldn’t do much more than speculate answers to. Her speculations
seemed to be enough, though.

Finally, however, Sylvanas fell into thoughtful silence for a while as she looked down at her own
hands where they rested in her lap.

“What if I’m not enough for her?”

The question was a whisper.

As though the very thought must be kept secret. As though Sylvanas was, in this room, what she
always had to be outside of its walls. A Lord. A military commander. The future Queen.

Lireesa’s jaw clenched as she folded her own legs beneath herself in order to turn so she could
better see her daughter when she answered her.
“You have always, always been enough. You have been too much and too good for every woman
who thought to use you as a means to an end. I would k…”

Lireesa trailed off as she felt heat rise along the back of her neck and had to rub the tingling
away from the tips of her fingers.

“You were never the problem. I have seen the way you looked at them. The way you’ve treated
them. As though they were mana from the Wild Gods themselves. You will be enough for this
girl, Sylvanas. You will be a wonder to her. I’ve never believed something more.”

Sylvanas sighed again, then. This time, it didn’t sound pained. It sounded genuinely relieved.

Lireesa felt as though she could breathe again.

“I think I’m tired,” Sylvanas said after a long pause - her tone and her expression almost
chagrined. “I think I just need some rest.”

Lireesa smiled and waited for Sylvanas to stand and help her up, as Sylvanas was wont to do.

They parted ways as they usually did, and Lireesa retreated into the stark hallways of the palace
and away from the blanket of emotion that enveloped her any time she was with her children.

She felt only for them, really.

She could only afford to feel for them. To feel for herself would be all-consuming. There was
simply too much there.

Tonight, more than usual.

She paused near one of the Royal Guard at the entrance to her private wing, and he stood a little
straighter, suddenly.

“My Lady,” He greeted, keeping his eyes straight ahead as she kept looking into the distance
towards her chamber doors.

“I would have company tonight,” she said without hesitation, “in an hour’s time.”

“Of course, My Lady.”

Lireesa kept walking, then, secure in the knowledge that she would have her thoughts
adequately occupied and her memories sufficiently abated for all that was to come the following
day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lireesa regarded herself in the oversized mirror in her bathing room. She looked for a long time
into the chill of her own eyes as she brushed out the damp, inky waves of her hair. She wouldn't
bother dressing up. The sheer night robe one of the servants had left laying out for her would do.
They would do exactly what they always did.

She was in those very robes standing in front of her fireplace a short while later when she heard
the familiar sounds of an approaching guard. Of two sets of footsteps that stopped just outside
her door.

With a wave of her hand from across the room - a small expenditure of precious reserves - the
door unlatched and swung open as she turned slowly towards the door.

The girl was as lovely as always. Strong and eager to the point of distraction. Looking anywhere
but at the way Lireesa’s robes hung off her small, steely frame leaving nothing to the
imagination.

Because, of course, not many saw Lireesa this way. With her hair down and something other
than black silk or leather and armor adorning her body. Even the silver circlet that usually rested
against her brow was gone.

“Anything else, My Lady?” The guard asked after a moment or two once he seemed satisfied
Lireesa was interested. Not that she ever hadn’t been. The company didn’t matter much, really.
Just so long as it was company and it was willing.

And her company was always willing.

“No. Thank you,” She gestured dismissively, and the guard left them alone - shutting the door
behind himself. The moment he was gone, Lireesa beckoned the girl closer.

She responded quickly, yet with a certain swagger in her step. One that Lireesa didn’t doubt was
far more subtle right then than it usually was during such encounters. She had lovely eyes.
Lovely burnt orange hair that hung half-loose from the bun it was done up in. All intentional. Of
course.

The girl stopped a few steps away. The swagger fell from her beneath the intensity of Lireesa’s
gaze and their eyes still hadn’t met.

Lireesa took the steps the girl couldn’t, and reached out slowly to lift her chin in her hand. It
might have looked odd from an outsider’s perspective.

The girl was taller. Broader. Most might assume her the more powerful of the two.

Yet a chill ran along the girl’s scalp when the warm blue of her eyes met Lireesa’s grey ones for
the first time.

“Tell me your name,” Lireesa’s voice was gentle. Calm. The antithesis of the wild-rabbit-look
about the girl standing in front of her. Wanting equally both to touch and to drop her gaze all at
once.

“Lynalis,” She responded without further urging on Lireesa’s part.

“And why are you here, Lynalis?”

“For you, My Queen,” her voice, though soft, was low and sure in a way that made Lireesa
smile.

“Have a drink with me,” Lireesa offered, finally slipping her hand from Lynalis’s chin to reach,
instead, for her hand. She inspected it for a moment. Ran her thumb across the calluses of her
palm.

A capable woman, then. One that worked with her hands. Or had, once upon a time.

Lynalis followed her towards the fireplace once her hand was released, and Lireesa felt the girl’s
eyes on her back all the while. No doubt on the scars that crisscrossed the expanse of it. Clearly
visible beneath the formality that was her robe.

Lireesa gestured towards the sofa in front of the fire, but before she could reach for the
unopened bottle of mana wine on the table nearby, Lynalis had taken it and looked at her almost
apologetically.

“May I?” She asked quickly, as though she were only just remembering herself.

“Of course,” Lireesa sat, then, happy to watch the woman do away with the bottle’s cork with
ease and fill both their glasses.

They were halfway through their first glass when Lireesa finally looked over at her silent
companion and reached towards her. She brushed a soft touch along the back of her hand to get
her attention before she spoke.

“If I had to guess, I would guess that you are usually a charmer. That you are used to all of these
things coming easily to you. Might I ask what is so different, now?”

Lynalis nearly laughed, but the sound came out slightly choked and breathy.

“I’m sorry,” She breathed as she leaned forward to place her glass down on the table and relaxed
back into the sofa as much as she was able. “It’s only that it is much different to see you this
way. I...I had always known you were beautiful beyond words. From afar. As does everyone. It
is quite another thing entirely to be confronted by it so directly. I fear if I touch you I might
burn.”

“Mm…” Lireesa hummed in the back of her throat and slowly slipped her arm along the
backrest of the sofa to untie the bun Lynalis’s hair was tied back into. “Then touch yourself until
you are comfortable enough to touch me. Until you are warm enough that I might not reduce
you to ash.”

Lynalis blushed from her throat to the tips of her ears. She felt ridiculous. She couldn’t
remember the last time she’d blushed.

“Forgive me, My Queen, but I thought I came here for you,” her voice was a murmur, again.
Low and slightly raspy.

“Are you so unused to your pleasure being your partner’s foremost desire?” Lireesa asked with a
half-smile. “I assure you this isn’t the case with me. But if you would be more comfortable with
the reigns in your hands…”

“No, I...I’m quite comfortable doing for you whatever you might ask of me.”

Lireesa searched for the truth of those words in Lynalis’s eyes, and once she found it, she left the
faintest trail of a touch down the side of her neck and along her arm.
“In my lap, then. Your hands have been itching to know me since the moment you laid eyes on
me. You might at least get a little bit closer.”

Lynalis felt some of the nervous energy pulsing beneath her skin abate as she looked at Lireesa
and listened to her speak. She reminded herself that she was with her Queen. That she had been
deigned worthy of her interests by someone who undoubtedly knew her tastes intimately. She
allowed herself a moment of pride for that as she stood and pulled her shirt over her head in
front of Lireesa to leave it on the sofa next to her.

She wore nothing beneath it, and she was unashamed as Lireesa took the time to appreciate this
fact. While Lireesa’s own skin was nearly alabaster, she appreciated flesh that frequently knew
the warmth of the sun. She appreciated the way it held that warmth.

She appreciated, even more, the deftness of Lynalis’s fingers as they undid the laces of her own
breeches.

“You can leave them on,” Lireesa breathed as she reached forward and splayed her hand across
Lynalis’s toned abdomen - tracing the hollow of her hip with the side of her thumb. “Come
closer to me.”

Lynalis couldn’t help the way her next breath shuddered on its way out any more than she could
help her eagerness to straddle the queen’s lap. It took Lireesa helping her get her balance for her
to find herself comfortable.

She was more than a little surprised when Lireesa leaned forward to brush the sharp bridge of
her nose against her ribs just beneath her breasts.

“You are so warm,” Lireesa whispered, and Lynalis’s hand faltered when it came up and nearly
rested against the back of Lireesa’s head. It only faltered for a moment, though, before it slipped
slowly over hair that both looked and felt as strong and as soft as silk.

Lireesa exhaled softly against Lynalis’s stomach in response to the softness of her touch, and
Lynalis found herself rewarded rather quickly by the sudden falling of Lireesa’s robe away from
her shoulders. Shoulders of a warrior more than a mage. Shoulders to fit the body of all the
legends woven in and of their queen.

Lynalis didn’t turn to ash when she touched them. Nor when she traced her trembling fingertips
over the various marks that would never leave skin that seemed so deceptively flawless. Burns
and cuts and so many, many terrible things of a time gone for so long the evidence of them all
had faded to nearly match the rest of her.

One would only know up close, really, the countless lines that made the map of Lireesa’s body.

And one would never memorize its paths. Not in one night.

And one night was all anyone would ever have.

Not that Lynalis had any expectation to the contrary.

It was unspoken, really, yet acknowledged. This was a privilege. To have her hands guided along
Lireesa’s body until they began to find their own way.
To know that there was some measure of softness here, however small, in the low, breathy
encouragement of her Queen as she finally lowered her hand into her own breeches.

She found herself trapped again in Lireesa’s gaze when she first touched herself. It wasn’t quite
so overwhelming, now. Not with Lireesa’s hand splayed across the small of her back. Not with
the other one kneading slowly along her thigh.

No, those eyes weren’t something to shy away from in this moment. They were something to get
lost in. In the perceived power. In the glow of them and behind it into irises that shone like
knives if knives could be alluring. Disarming. Appreciative.

Lynalis’s breaths were coming quickly and shallowly now. Her free hand was clinging to
Lireesa’s shoulder perhaps harder than it might have been had she been fully aware of herself.

“You are so close,” Lireesa whispered, and Lynalis’s next breath escaped in a whimper as the
firelight cast a glow over the fine sheen of sweat that had formed over her brow.

Lireesa reached for the back of her neck and pulled her gently closer until her face was pressed
against her shoulder.

Her lips found Lynalis’s ear at the same moment her voice did.

“Come for me,” she whispered. “Come for your Queen.”

Lynalis came with a shudder that wracked her entire body, and Lireesa’s eyes slipped shut so she
could saver her soft moans of pleasure.

Lynalis hadn’t even righted herself again when Lireesa let out a soft chuckle in response to the
warmth of Lynalis’s hands stroking over her chest to rest against her breasts.

“Are you not ash?” Lireesa asked - her lips brushing Lynalis’s cheek. “Hm? Or have you found
that I am nothing like the sun?”

Lynalis laughed weakly and sat herself up in Lireesa’s lap to look down at her.

“More like the stars beyond it,” Lynalis observed. “Yet still nearly too bright to look upon.”

Lireesa hummed her appreciation deep in her chest as Lynalis grazed one of her nipples with the
tips of her fingers.

“Would it please you for me to touch you?”

“It already pleases me,” Lireesa sighed as Lynalis’s touches trailed down along her ribs. “But
you may certainly do as you please, as well.”

What Lynalis pleased, it turned out, was to lower herself to her knees between Lireesa’s knees.
What Lynalis pleased, was to part her thighs and taste her with such careful reverence Lireesa
had to grip her hair to urge her into further action.

It was clear rather quickly to Lireesa her assumptions had been correct. This was a woman who
was used to pleasing women. Who had no qualms putting her talents to use. And Lireesa
certainly appreciated those talents.

Pleasure was a wonderful distraction, after all. And there was much distraction to be had that
night. A night that ended with Lireesa laying on her stomach across her bed with Lynalis’s
strong, sure hands kneading the stiffness from her muscles.

They had each had a bottle of wine between them, and Lynalis had had more food, even, than
she was used to. Lireesa took care of her guests, after all. Of her company. Her distractions.

Even when it became apparent their evening was drawing to a close, Lireesa walked Lynalis to
the door of her chambers and took her hand once more as she had hours ago.

“I enjoyed my evening,” Lireesa sounded much the same as she had for most of the night. Not a
hint of fatigue or much of anything else. “I enjoyed your company.”

“I’m glad,” Lynalis murmured with a furrow between her brows. “Is...is there anything more I
can do?”

If Lireesa had felt anything in response to that question, she hadn’t let it show.

“Not at all,” Lireesa gave Lynalis’s hand a soft squeeze and released it. “I’m sure you’re aware I
have quite a few things to attend to.”

“The wedding,” Lynalis nodded and finally averted her gaze from Lireesa’s. It was too much,
again. It had lost its softness, somehow. “I wish you luck, My Queen. I wish your family luck, as
well. I’m certain you don’t need it, but I offer it all the same.”

“Thank you,” Lireesa opened the door, then, and Lynalis glanced behind herself expecting to
find a guard. She was surprised to see the corridor empty. “Your escort is at the end of the hall
after you take your first left. I do value my privacy highly.”

“Of course,” Lynalis responded quickly - hoping she could convey her understanding in just two
words. Lynalis was used to discretion, as a frequent guest of more than one noble house. “Thank
you for having me. Really.”

Lynalis slipped from the room before the absence of any response on Lireesa’s part was too
obvious if only to save her Queen the trouble.

Lireesa was more than ready for sleep by the time she was gone. The night had served its
purpose.

Sleep would have to wait, however, for another soak and another glass of wine. After that, there
would be an hour or two before the work of the wedding would finally peak in the morning.

Before she had to deal with Katherine, again.

 Lady Sun

Alleria had always been the outlier. The odd one out among the three siblings of the royal
family. She had seen things her younger sisters should never have to. Lived through things not
many in the kingdom were old enough, even, to remember.

Lireesa observed her eldest daughter as she entered the room and took in everything there was to
see with sharp eyes. Lireesa knew she didn’t miss a detail. She was likely picking out a piece of
lint on Sylvanas’s overcoat from an arrow’s shot away.

At least, until she was jostled rather suddenly from behind by a much smaller, younger elf. The
sight of Alleria pretending to be annoyed with her youngest sister despite the fact that she was
now swinging her around by her middle brought a smile to Lireesa’s previously almost pensive
face.

“Ah, Little Moon,” Alleria greeted Vereesa warmly as she put her back down on her feet and
looked down at her with a wry smile. “When will you join me out on the borders? I’ve missed
you so.”

“I’m not so sure,” Vereesa responded, looking and sounding only half-serious. “It does sound so
tempting to live my life in trees and in tents for months and months at a time.”
Alleria snorted her amusement because this wasn’t even an exaggeration. In fact, Vereesa was
being almost generous. She’d never quite...tamed the way that her mother had. She’d never had
much reason to. Sylvanas had taken to court life and to the politics like a duck to water. She’d
been born into it and born for it. Alleria still bristled at the very idea.

And that’s why they were here now, really. That’s why Sylvanas was eyeing her sisters in the
mirror she was standing in front of - an unreadable expression on her face yet one that filled
Alleria with tension, nonetheless.

“I think she’s as perfect as she’s ever going to be,” Lireesa announced from her place near the
tailor that was still going over Sylvanas’s suit with a fine-toothed comb. Yet, even as fastidious
as he was, even he recognized a dismissal when he heard one.

“Very well. I intend to return before the ceremony…”

“Of course,” Lireesa chuckled her response and waved him off as both Vereesa and Alleria
approached.

The heels of Sylvanas’s boots made sharp contact with the marble floor as she stepped down
from the short platform she’d been on, and Alleria looked her over quickly as she came to a stop
in front of her.

“How do I look?” Sylvanas asked - everything about her demeanor and her tone nothing if not
reserved.

“Every bit the Prince,” Alleria said easily, reaching out to touch along the high collar of her
jacket. It was true. There was nothing about Sylvanas’s outfit that wasn’t breathtaking. All white
and gold like some sort of living statue. And Alleria knew enough to know that the cost of this
ensemble alone was likely beyond even her own imagining.

But then, her mother’s outfit was just as ostentatious. As was her sister’s. As was her own - she
just hadn’t begun to dress herself, yet.

“And you look every bit the scoundrel,” Sylvanas countered as she brushed Alleria’s hand away.
“Am I to be wed with you in your armor?”

“Of course, not,” Alleria responded with a heavy sigh. “I wanted to see you as soon as I arrived.
Seeing you was of considerably more importance to me than ridiculous costumes.”

Some of the tension in the room seemed to abate then, and Lireesa cut her eyes in Vereesa’s
direction with a quick smile. “Let’s take a walk, yes? Get your sister’s outfit for her so she and
Lady Moon can catch up?”

None of the servants present were so inclined to offer to run their errand for them. They were
used to the subtleties of this family, and used to ignoring things when it was clear that they
should be ignored.

With Lireesa and her Little Moon gone from the large dressing room, Alleria looked at her sister
almost solemnly for a while, waiting for her to speak. Sylvanas had always been the better of the
two of them with such things. Words. Emotions. And Alleria could almost feel them rolling off
of Sylvanas.
Sylvanas finally ended Alleria’s suffering with a slow inhale and a gradual lean towards her for a
hug Alleria gave freely. She wasn't even worried about leaving creases in Sylvanas’s filigreed
coat as she held onto her.

“It feels like I haven't seen you in years,” Sylvanas complained weakly into Alleria’s shoulder
where she stayed for a while before finally pulling back. “I thought you might come see me
before today. Even just me. Even for a little while. I don't know why I thought that.”

Alleria cleared her throat and reached out slowly to take one of her sister's hands into her own.
Sylvanas looked down gradually when she felt something pressing into her palm.

“To keep you safe,” Alleria murmured as Sylvanas carefully examined a very old, very small
piece of magic. A little stone. A physical ward that was almost inert, now. These had been
common once upon a time, and were now...well. How many years had it been since Sylvanas
had even heard of one existing? Many.

“I'll be just fine, Alleria. She's just a girl. She isn't going to do me any harm.”

“It's for both of you,” Alleria explained gently as she took the ward from her sister’s hand and
tucked it carefully into the gold silk wrapped thickly around her waist. “Because I won't be here
to look after you, myself. I'll still know, now. I can still come if I need to.”

Sylvanas touched over the place where she could feel the magic stone tucked away. It thrummed
faintly beneath her fingertips. She'd always been so sensitive to magic even though her own was
quite weak. Nearly non-existent, now.

“The communication enchantments? The way stations?” Sylvanas asked in a whisper only
Alleria could hear, and Alleria shook her head faintly.

“A conversation for another time. Not one for your wedding day,” Alleria sounded so firm,
suddenly. So much like their mother with all of her years ready to back them up.

Sylvanas didn't put up much of an argument, however. She simply nodded. Today was the type
of day that made her feel inclined to let those older than her deal with the problems of the
kingdom for once. Not that she wasn't already dealing with the biggest problem it currently had.
It was just that she wasn't really necessarily processing that at the moment.

“I take it you still haven't met her?” Alleria asked as she gestured towards a nearby bench and
made her way towards it at her sister’s side. She wasn't sure when she'd started having to look up
slightly to look Sylvanas in the eye. She was still broader, but her sister was longer and leaner in
a way that had long ago left Alleria far less likely to get into physical scraps with her.

Sylvanas shook her head as she plopped down on the bench in a way that would have dismayed
the clothier had he still been present, and she leaned forward with her arms crossed over her
knees. Or at least, she tried, only to find her jacket far too stiff to allow her any real comfort.

She gave up quietly and sat up straight next to Alleria, who was no grimacing at the thought of
putting her own get-up on.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, she’s nobility, right?”

Sylvanas nodded.

“The humans hold looks in high regard. Especially when it comes to suitors. I'm sure they
wouldn't be making an offer if it wasn't the best they had.”

Sylvanas made a sound of disgust in Alleria’s direction, and Alleria’s ears twitched when she
realized just how terribly she'd misread the situation. Or perhaps she'd forgotten how much
faster Sylvanas had grown up than she did.

“I can tell you didn't like that. I'm sorry. To be honest, I don't really know what to say, here. I
feel like I probably owe you some sort of apology, right? But what can I say? I'm sorry it's
always you and never me? I can't, really. I would wither away here. I would go mad. You know
that.”

“I know,” Sylvanas responded with a shrug and a sigh. “I suppose I’m not entirely unhappy. I
suppose it’s also possible I’m being petulant because I selfishly wanted you here sooner. I have
no idea what I’m doing, you know.”

“And I do?” Alleria asked with a gentle yet wry smile as she reached over to pat her sister’s
knee. “You know more about love than I do, Lady Moon. I think you know that deep down.
You’ve been hurt more times in the past fifty years than I have in countless centuries. This is a
good thing, of course. A normal thing. You’re the normal one, remember?”

“The tame one,” Sylvanas said quietly. “The boring one. The one to be counted on.”

“Boring?” Alleria asked with a tilt of her head and a faint flick of one of her ears. “I’ve seen you
put an arrow through an ogre’s eye from further away than anyone else ever could. I’ve seen you
fight. Fiercely. But some of the fighting doesn’t happen in the forests or the fields. Some of it
happens here. And the type of fighting that you regularly do requires much more bravery than
my own. Tact is a thing of courage and maturity. And that’s why Mother counts on you. That’s
why she knows she can.”

“I think you give me too much credit,” Sylvanas countered with little hesitation.

“I know that you give yourself too little,” Alleria’s response was so quick that it silenced
Sylvanas utterly for a moment as her eyes flashed over in the direction of her sister. They shared
a look for a while before Sylvanas’s attention eventually slipped away.

“I suppose we should finish preparing for the ceremony,” Sylvanas announced when she finally
decided to give up. Half because they didn’t have time to argue, half because she was already
tired of Alleria being right.

“I suppose you’re right,” Alleria said, half expecting her mother and Vereesa to walk through the
door on cue. They did not. An awkward silence stretched between them, then. One that Alleria
finally felt the need to fill.

“I am sorry that I wasn’t here sooner. I meant to be. I truly did.”

If Sylvanas was shocked, she didn’t let on. She just nodded her acceptance and hoped it came
across as appreciation as well.
Just when the moment seemed to stretch on longer than either of them could stand, the doors to
the dressing room finally opened and Sylvanas looked up in relief to find her mother trailing
behind Vereesa, who was proudly carrying Alleria’s ceremonial garb.

“Ah, Little Moon!” Alleria greeted with a broad grin as she extracted herself from the tension
between her and Sylvanas. “My ridiculous clothing! Whatever would I have done without you?”

Alleria took the outfit from a rather proud-looking Vereesa’s arms and looked over it before her
sly eyes slid to find Vereesa’s own. “And you didn’t even let them drag the ground. Quite the
feat for someone of your stature.”

“She’s growing, Alleria,” Lireesa admonished in a low, even tone as she walked past them both
towards the chair she’d taken up residence in for the better part of the morning. “Let her be.”

“Of course, she is,” Alleria responded with a wink in Vereesa’s direction. “She’ll be the tallest of
all of us.”

“I plan on it,” Vereesa grumbled with a narrowing of her eyes despite the little smile of
amusement that played at her lips. “Just to spite you.”

“No fighting, please,” Lireesa said in much the same tone she’d been using previously. No
harshness. Just a clear and concise warning that drew both Alleria and Vereesa’s attention back
across the room where the clothier had slipped back inside to put the finishing touches back on
Sylvanas’s outfit.

It wasn’t long at all before she was as adorned and primped and perfected as much as any one
person could be.

She looked miserable enough for Alleria to feel that old guilt creeping in, and miserable enough
for Lireesa to take her hand and walk her away from the fuss currently surrounding her other
daughters so they might have a private word regarding Sylvanas’s mood and Alleria’s place in
all this.

Jaina swallowed past the lump in her throat for probably about the dozenth time as her Ladies
fussed over her hair and her dress all while her mother oversaw the entire process. It was utterly
ostentatious. Absolutely overboard.

But then, Jaina was marrying an elf. An elf of noble blood, no less. Anything run-of-the-mill just
wouldn’t do. Not if her mother had any say-so in it. For once, though, Jaina agreed with her. For
various reasons.

Not the least of which was the memory of the queen’s visit and the way she’d looked. She’d
only met two elves in her life, and both of them had been nothing short of perfect. Not a single
hair out of place. Not a single wrinkle in a single piece of clothing.
Perhaps that’s why she was allowing herself to be primped and prepped until she wasn’t entirely
sure she was going to make it out of this room with her sanity.

In the end, however, she did. After many, many hours of so many adjustments that Jaina had lost
count, here she was. Standing in front of a portal of magic origin. A portal of elven origin.

Her mother was with her, of course. Her Ladies were with her, as well. Though she wasn’t
particularly close to any of them, their presence was still a comfort for her if only because of
their familiarity. The rest of their escorts, however, only served to put Jaina more on edge.
Especially Genn, who was a constant worry in such situations. At least to Jaina.

Fortunately, he was currently being primped for the ceremony in another room.

Still, this small blessing did little to lower Jaina from the precipice her anxiety had driven her to.

For once, Jaina saw her mother take notice of her for a reason other than wariness. At least, her
expression was softer than it usually was.

“This place is beautiful,” Katherine observed, though they had only seen a small section of the
palace. Only a corridor and the series of rooms Jaina's party had been given to ready themselves
in. “You look right at home.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Jaina kept her voice even in her response despite how decidedly uneven
she’d been feeling since the moment she first stepped through the portal this morning. Not
because it had made her ill, no, nothing of the sort. It was just that everything else was making
her feel ill.

Jaina was apprehensive to voice much of anything at all, yet she felt certain if she didn’t let
some of what she was feeling out it might overwhelm her entirely. She waited for a moment
when her entourage seemed otherwise occupied to clear her throat for Katherine’s attention.

“Mother, I…” Jaina sighed under Katherine’s gaze and nearly fell silent again before she
reminded herself that none of this would matter anymore very soon. “I’m not feeling well.”

Worry flashed across Katherine’s features, and Jaina chose to believe it was worry for the right
reasons. Worry and care that she was craving desperately for.

“What isn’t feeling well? Are you sick?” Katherine leaned forward to brush the back of her hand
against Jaina’s forehead and Jaina very nearly leaned away from the touch before she stopped
herself. Katherine seemed satisfied she wasn’t feverish after checking despite Jaina shaking her
head in response to her question.

“Nerves,” Jaina said simply. “My stomach is uneasy.”

“I can fetch you a shot of something. I’m sure Genn has some brandy on him. He’s likely around
here somewhere.”

Jaina grimaced and hated the way her stomach threatened to turn in response to the offer of
liquor. She couldn’t imagine drinking at a time like this.
“No. No, that’s likely the last thing I need. Can’t you just…say something? Can’t you just try?
Once?”

Katherine feigned indignance, but only for a moment. There was no one watching. No one
listening. And they both knew how the past years had gone between them.

“Okay. Okay, then, what is it that you want me to say?”

“For starters, how do I even become a wife to someone? How did you do it for Father? Did you
make him happy? Did you have to try very hard?”

Katherine looked away from Jaina at the mention of Daelin. She hadn’t been expecting it,
clearly, but there it was. No taking it back, now.

Katherine drew in a slow breath to steady herself before she responded. “Jaina, it’s simple,
really. They’re...simple creatures, men. They want to be listened to and indulged. Sometimes
even coddled. Your father was a wonderful man. I hope your own is even half the man that he
was. A true partner. They do seem quite different, these elves. Forward-thinking, I mean. I think
you have a better chance having a husband that would be your equal here than anywhere else. I
hope that for you, at least. Whether or not you believe that I do, I do. You’ve always been a fish
out of water among your own kind. There’s no use in either of us denying that. I know you’re
nervous now. But I think this is for the best.”

Jaina had long ago learned to take what she could get with her mother, and this had been far
more than she’d expected. Even despite the many grains of salt she’d had to swallow along with
the little glimmers of comfort that had found their way through in her mother’s words. She was
surprised to find herself feeling a little steadier, now.

“Thank you,” Jaina said, even managing to offer Katherine a faint smile. Katherine returned that
smile and reached out to squeeze Jaina’s hand, and Jaina found that she didn’t mind that, either.
It was almost nice, even if it was too little and too late. “I hope you’re right.”

“You can write me, you know. As often as you wish. I’d be more than happy to help you in any
way I can. There isn’t much advice I can offer you, now, but once we know more…”

“I will,” Jaina rescued Katherine from her floundering with a quick, half-forced smile. “I’ll write
you as soon as I’m able.”

“Well, it’s settled, then. You’ll write me, and all of this will work out just fine,” Katherine
sounded so sure that Jaina found it easy to take her seriously. Mostly because this was exactly
what she needed right now. Reassurances. No matter how unfounded or unrealistic. This much,
at least, Katherine had managed to do for her.

Katherine had her limits, though. Even on a day like today. And Tess Greymane quickly took her
place when she seemed inclined to wander off to check on the rest of Jaina’s wedding party.

Tess was a breath of fresh air, really. From the wary looks she cast around the room as she
lowered herself next to Jaina to the slight purse of her lips when she finally looked at her.

“Did I just see you have an actual talk with your mother?” Tess asked when she was sure no one
was within earshot.
“Surprisingly, yes,” Jaina responded with a weak little shrug. Her dress even made it difficult for
her to shrug, she realized. Even after the alterations that had been made to it following the
Queen’s visit that might have made Jaina look ridiculously modest in comparison.

Even with those adjustments, however, there was only the scantest bit of collarbone above the
neckline of her gown. Scandalous compared to any other noble wedding attire she’d seen in her
scant years alive and far too many wedding attendances.

Yet, Jaina enjoyed the feeling. She enjoyed feeling as though her collarbones weren't something
to be squirreled away because she'd always thought the idea absurd.

“Was it enlightening?” Tess prodded as she folded her hands in her lap expectantly. Tess wasn't a
fan of all this and Jaina knew it. She was more a fan of having tales under her belt to tell the
courtesans she regularly held the ears of back home despite her young age. She was a terrible
flirt. Jaina was almost glad she wasn't going to be around when Tess really hit her stride. She
knew the court would be positively aflame with rumor and intrigue.

“Not very. She tried, I'll give her that,” Jaina laughed weakly and Tess gave her a heavy sigh of
commiseration in response. Neither of them had gotten particularly lucky on the parent front.
Maybe that's why they'd always gravitated towards one another when they were put into
situations like these.

“At least she tried, I suppose. Father has all but given up on me. You took a lot of heat off me
with this whole wedding thing. I feel like you deserve to have it work out well for you just based
upon that alone.”

“That’s so incredibly self-centered, Tess,” Jaina remarked dryly, and Tess chuckled. An impish,
self-amused little chuckle that brought a weak smile to Jaina’s face. But at least it was a smile.

“There we are. There’s a smile. Keep your chin up out there. I’m not sure I have the speed to
catch you if you faint.” Tess said in a tone that caused Jaina to look over at her appreciatively.
Jaina had wondered a time or two what it would be like to be one of those court girls that Tess
liked so much to hang around. She often reminded herself that Tess would never be able to keep
her attention as long as she kept theirs. Jaina had never been a particularly easy person to
impress, after all.

“Whyever would I faint?” Jain asked incredulously with a furrow between her brows.

“What if he’s ugly?” Tess asked with a quirk of one of her own and a little smirk playing at her
lips. “Imagine?”

Jaina gave Tess’s shoulder a shove that wasn’t quite as gentle as it probably should have been,
and Tess huffed and rolled her eyes in response to Jaina’s refusal to let her keep her entertained.

That was about the time the room fell silent and Jaina felt like she was the only person left in it
that had no idea what was going on.

She lifted her eyes slowly, and her attention finally settled on a familiar, yet unfamiliar face.

The lady knight from the queen’s visit. Liadrin. And her mother greeting her, of course. She
almost hadn’t recognized her in the clothing she was wearing. Royal blue and gold from her
collar down to the tips of her boots. The sword that hung at her side looked like something out
of a picture book with all the gilding and filigree on the scabbard.

She was gone again before Jaina even had a chance to inspect her properly, and her mother
approached her not long after holding a small parchment in her hand.

“Lady Liadrin requested I give this to you,” Katherine said. “She specified it was to be given
only to you. As though I am a child.”

“Mm. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it,” Jaina soothed her mother’s concerns as best she
could as she reached for the small, sealed packet and waited for her mother to walk away before
she opened it. The handwriting was stunning. The pen strokes were long and easy and sure and
Jaina took a moment to admire them before she finally began actually focusing on the words that
had been written.

Lady Jaina,

I hope this letter finds you as well as could be expected. I know how difficult this day must be for
you. I know how nervous you must be. I have had no small amount of nerves to calm in my own
household of late.

I want you to know before any of this truly begins that your well-being is at the forefront of the
collective thoughts of my entire family. We all wish for nothing more than your comfort and your
happiness.

When all those eyes are on you later this morning, try to remember my shoulder is always open,
my ear is always free, and my libraries are just as much yours as they are mine. You are such a
lovely woman. It will be a joy to call you my daughter.

Lireesa Windrunner

Jaina looked down at the paper and read it a good handful of times before she finally folded it
and brought a hand up swiftly to dab at her eyes for fear her makeup might begin to run.

The note found its way into the sash around her waist, for it was just small enough to fit there
without fear of it being seen. She could almost feel the comfort of it seeping into her skin.

“What was that about?”

Jaina jumped a bit in response to her mother’s voice. She hadn’t even seen her approach.

“Just a letter from the queen,” Jaina explained simply. “Welcoming me, is all.”

“Odd,” Katherine muttered beneath her breath.

But then, this was all odd to her. Odd, and varying degrees of unacceptable.

To Jaina, though? Oh, to Jaina it really was wonderful.

Beneath her near-constant undercurrent of nerves, there was so much wonder. Wonder about the
colored glass in all the windows and a desperate need to find herself curled up in the myriad of
colors that filtered into this room and likely many others through that very glass with a good
book.

But books would have to wait, she reminded herself.

Not that she needed to. Genn’s take-charge attitude and overbearing voice were suddenly
making themselves known in the hallway outside.

It was time, then.

Jaina touched over the place in her sash where she’d tucked Lireesa’s letter as she stood and
tried her best not to let all the color drain from her face.

She thought of a hundred different things at once.

Strangely, she thought most about what Tess had said earlier as time suddenly seemed to slow to
a near-stop. She thought about what she should have said in response to her jest at the possibility
of ugliness. That all she cared about was that her Lord was kind and smart. That they could
speak and understand one another. Because Jaina had met so very many beautiful, hideous
people. And that was the very last thing she wanted.

“Are you ready?” Katherine asked, and the softness of her tone caught Jaina off-guard. It
seemed so out of place in the sudden commotion.

“Yes,” Jaina responded as she smoothed the front of her dress for the hundredth time for
absolutely no reason. She realized after she said it that her response hadn’t even been a lie.

She was ready. The waiting was misery, and now that it finally seemed to be over - everything
felt just a little lighter. For now, anyway. And as the doors opened and everyone began filtering
out into the grand corridor outside, Jaina decided that it was probably best to focus on that, right
then.
 A Royal Wedding

Jaina was almost certain if she weren’t clutching her hands together in front of her waist, she
might have involuntarily crawled out of her own skin. The women fussing over her dress had
faded out of her awareness long ago. Even her mother’s nervous pacing had blurred at the edges
of her vision.

All she could focus on were the grand, arched doors in front of her and the din of countless
people beyond, and the fact that each and every one of them was waiting on her to enter the
room. Including the one person her thoughts were centered upon. The one she knew almost
nothing about.

Before she could descend into madness, however, the doors began to open. They opened so
slowly it felt to Jaina as though time were moving backward. Perhaps the worst part was how
the room had fallen utterly silent the second the doors cracked.

Jaina really didn’t have long at all to think about that, though. The sheer grandeur of the room
hit her almost immediately. The ceilings were vaulted. Taller than anything she had ever seen.
She wasn’t even sure it could be called a room, really. ‘Room’ seemed to simple a word for the
space flooded with beautifully colored sunlight filtering through windows the size of most
houses back home.
What really had her feet cemented to the floor, however, was the music that had suddenly begun
filtering through the grand space. Music played by no one, yet music that was everywhere all at
once. This had to be magic.

That thought occurred to Jaina just as she felt a hand at her back urging her forward. Right.

She was supposed to walk.

She was supposed to take the steps down a petal-carpeted path so long she couldn’t even make
out the faces of the people waiting for her at the end.

All she knew was that Genn was at her side and her mother was behind them when she took her
first steps.

The steps seemed endless. The fact that she was surrounded on both sides by unfamiliar faces
didn’t help, despite the fact that half of them were her own people. Lords and Ladies and
dignitaries from her kingdom that all needed to be here for appearances, or so they had all said.
Jaina wondered, as her breaths repeatedly caught in her throat, for how many years they would
use this as a bargaining chip. A status symbol.

That they had attended a wedding.

Jaina was nearly hysterical about it inwardly. Outwardly, her chin was raised and her shoulders
were squared and her posture and movement were impeccable. But then, nearly her entire life
had been leading up to this moment.

Nearly her entire life had been leading up to her reaching the base of the stairs that held…

Sylvanas’s eyes had been forward since the moment the room had gone silent and the doors had
opened. She didn’t even hear the music, really. She couldn’t, past the sound of her pulse
pounding in her ears.

It wasn’t until her mother reached out to touch her elbow that she finally turned her head at
almost the precise moment the music stopped. It looked almost planned.

It wasn’t.

Sylvanas was terrified.

And then her eyes met Jaina’s for the first time and she froze, entirely.

“Offer her your hand,” Lireesa whispered without looking, and so quietly that only Sylvanas
heard her.

She obeyed immediately, and Jaina offered her a soft smile as she accepted and ascended the
stairs.

Genn slipped away like he was supposed to, and her mother stepped up just after Jaina.

And then, they were face to face - their eyes locked - Jaina’s bare hands resting in Sylvanas’s
gloved ones.
“Hello,” Sylvanas offered, because she honestly didn’t know what else to do. It was ridiculous.
Unrehearsed. Not at all what she was supposed to say.

And it made Jaina let out a soft breath of relief.

She sounded kind. And she looked just as scared as Jaina felt.

She.

Jaina’s eyes widened for a split second as she took in the delicate yet sharp facial features of the
woman in front of her.

“Hi,” She whispered just so nothing else would fumble past her lips. Nothing embarrassing.
Nothing life-ruining.

Jaina’s thoughts raced for a moment. Shifted from question to assumption to suspicion and back
again. Had her mother known, and just not told her? Did it matter?

This line of thinking came to a screeching halt when she realized quite suddenly that the shaking
she felt wasn't coming from her own hands, but from the woman’s in front of her.

Her eyes flashed down to the finely made gloves that felt like silk against her skin but weren't,
and she made the sudden, brave decision to give those gloves and the hands wearing them a faint
squeeze before she looked back up.

The ceremony had already begun, and Jaina was relieved to find the words being spoken in
Common.

“Sylvanas,” the woman said so quietly Jaina almost hadn't heard her.

“You have a beautiful name,” Jaina murmured under her breath in response. “I am glad to know
it.”

There wasn't much more opportunity for talking. They were repeating words and phrases and
making promises before long, but that didn't mean Jaina couldn't look around a bit. Just at the
women behind Sylvanas. She found the smile on Lireesa's face comforting. Almost as
comforting as the peering of the slightly broader of whom she could only assume were siblings
was unsettling.

She found it easier, suddenly, to look back at Sylvanas.

It took so long, yet not long enough. It'd felt like seconds and like years all at once by the time
everything was said and done. By the time they were wed, and the hall was filled with raucous
cheering from the Elven attendants until the humans caught on that the mood should be
celebratory.

Jaina saw something in Sylvanas shift as they turned to face the room. She saw the fear fade
quickly into surety and confidence as she took Sylvanas’s arm when it was offered to her, and
wondered if she'd been imagining all those other things before. Or projecting them, perhaps.
Jaina cast one quick glance at her mother before they descended the stairs, and found her
looking relieved.

It was almost disappointing, really. She'd been hoping for shock.

Again, Jaina didn't have time for lingering thoughts. She and Sylvanas were being ushered to a
reception with more haste than she was necessarily prepared for, at least, until Lireesa gave them
a rather convenient, albeit temporary, out.

“It's customary among our people that the newly wedded couple enter the celebration of their
union last,” Lireesa announced as she turned to face the throng of people trailing behind her.

Sylvanas lifted a brow suspiciously, and Jaina believed her beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Lireesa turned her attention to Sylvanas and the young woman holding her arm. Jaina. Her
newest daughter.

“Sylvanas will walk you through the gardens,” she explained with such surety nobody in
attendance would even suspect this might not be a real custom. At least, the humans wouldn't.
And the elves knew better than to ask questions. “You'll join the rest of us soon enough.”

Lireesa leaned in, then, and took Jaina’s arms gently in her hands to pull her close and whisper
something only she would hear.

“I won't have you sit through a celebration of your own wedding with a stranger, married or not.
Go. Breathe for a moment. Both of you.”

Sylvanas bowed her head in her mother’s direction when she took a step back, and Jaina did the
same - taking the cue from her. They split from the group at Sylvanas’s urging or, more
accurately, Sylvanas was walking in the opposite direction and Jaina was doing a decent job of
keeping up.

They were alone almost too suddenly for Jaina’s already frazzled nerves. The heels of
Sylvanas’s boots echoed in the curved space. Jaina found it odd that that’s what she noticed.
Unfortunately, that’s where her self-awareness ended. The fact that she was holding onto
Sylvanas far too tightly to be proper escaped her, entirely.

“You can...my arm,” Sylvanas’s words came out almost stilted as her pace slowed to something
Jaina found more comfortable, and Jaina nearly jumped at being so directly addressed. As
though she’d never held a normal conversation in her life.

“I...you want me to let go?” Jaina asked carefully, and Sylvanas nodded. She let go immediately.

“The touching. You are not comfortable. You needn’t be...ah, performative for my benefit,”
Sylvanas looked over at her with furrowed brows as though she were secretly hoping beyond
hope Jaina understood her.

Curious.

“I understand,” Jaina offered with a smile, smoothing at the front of her dress and matching
Sylvanas’s much slower pace once the woman began to move again.
“You were surprised,” Sylvanas observed as they rounded a corner that was full, strangely, of
fresh air and a rather pleasant, warm breeze. “When you saw me. Why?”

Jaina swallowed thickly and cleared her throat. It was difficult to keep her attention on their
rather lackluster conversation when she realized they were suddenly technically outside. She
wondered how they kept a palace such as this so immaculate. One that seemed to flow from
inside to outside. From perfectly spotless marble columns to ones that were twined with vines
from which bloomed flowers unlike any flowers Jaina had ever seen. Magic, perhaps?

“Oh, I…” Jaina remembered Sylvanas had asked her a question and cursed herself inwardly. “If
I’m being entirely honest, I wasn’t really aware of your...well. Of the fact that you’re a,
um...well. You’re a woman.”

Sylvanas’s eyes had been narrowed in concentration the entire time Jaina spoke, and she
wondered if human conversations were always this hard to follow.

“I am that,” Sylvanas responded in confusion. “Do you find this disappointing?”

“No! No, it’s not that. Not at all. I’m...I’m already making a mess of things. I apologize. Where
is this garden, by the way?”

Sylvanas looked over at Jaina to find every ounce of the young woman’s attention focused on
her, and she smiled in faint amusement before gesturing outward.

Jaina’s eyes turned, and her steps faltered suddenly. She hadn’t even realized the open arches
they’d been walking past had grown sparser. Faded off into nothing more than curved structures
lining a path that had shifted from marble into some material Jaina didn’t recognize.

Her eyes went wide as she looked around. At blue and purple glowing lights dancing around
here and there. Over the ponds in the distance and even at the curled ends of the arches that lined
the path high above them.

“Are these…?” She pointed up at one of them and squinted to see it better. The ones lining the
paths seemed to be contained in little gilded, golden cages.

“They are lights?” Sylvanas responded in confusion, and Jaina blushed and looked away.

Sylvanas winced.

“Magic,” Sylvanas corrected herself. “They are magic lights. And I...I am sorry if I
misunderstand you. My grasp of your language is….”

“Perfectly fine,” Jaina offered graciously, though Sylvanas recognized that this was an olive
branch, and she was happy enough to take it, albeit with a quiet sigh and a nod. Jaina looked at
her more closely for perhaps the first time.

She’d never seen anyone like her before. She’d also never seen clothing that held a candle to
what Sylvanas was wearing. Like something a prince from a children’s picture book might wear.

Sylvanas’s ears shifted faintly as she stood there under Jaina’s gaze. If she felt as though she
were being appraised, it didn’t seem to bother her. She seemed more than willing to let it
happen.

Willing enough that Jaina eventually realized she was staring and let out a quiet breath and
dropped her gaze quickly.

“I don’t mean to stare. We should continue our walk, I think.”

“You can do whatever it is that you would like to do,” Sylvanas responded, straightening her
jacket and taking the initiative to get them going in the right direction, again. “Do you...well. Do
you find me satisfactory?”

Jaina blushed ten shades of red and stared down at the path passing under her feet for a moment
to collect herself. “I find you...I find you shockingly beautiful. Like something that ought not be
touched. Something to be put on display and admired from afar. And how do you find me?”

Sylvanas smiled in a way that suggested to Jaina it hadn’t been entirely intentional, and that
didn’t help her blush in the least.

“Your eyes are captivating,” Sylvanas responded unabashedly.

“Mine? Perhaps you just aren’t used to seeing eyes that don’t glow, as all yours seem to.”

Sylvanas laughed and Jaina felt a thrill at the prospect that the woman found her at least mildly
amusing. That was good. That was a good start.

“Perhaps,” Sylvanas agreed, cutting her eyes in Jaina’s direction almost slyly. “But I think not.”

Jaina returned Sylvanas’s attention until it left her, and even then her gaze lingered as she
processed as many of the thoughts coursing through her as she could manage in this small span
of silence. The thought that this woman was lovely and charming, but that cruelness often
dwelled in spades behind beauty. She reminded herself that it was awfully hard to feign
trembling hands, and that Sylvanas’s had been shaking in her own all the while they’d been
vowing their lives to one another.

She got lost enough in the beauty around her and her own rather active imagination that she
didn’t notice the outside had gradually become the inside in much the same way it had shifted
from one to the other before.

In fact, she didn’t notice until the sound of a gathering of people finally edged its way into her
thoughts. The reception.

Sylvanas must have noticed her sudden almost-hesitation.

“I can think of a reason for your absence,” she offered as she paused and turned slightly. Just
enough to look at her a bit more easily. “I am more skilled in politics than foreign language.”

Jaina was a little shocked at the offer. That Sylvanas would sacrifice such an important
appearance for her comfort when she seemed so damned...schooled.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll do my best to keep up,” Jaina offered Sylvanas a smile that she
hoped was reassuring. It seemed adequate, because Sylvanas nodded and offered Jaina her arm
again.

The first short while was a blur of faces to Jaina. A blur of faces and a blur of words - some of
which she understood, some of which she didn’t.

Genn found her almost immediately, and Jaina wasn’t surprised to see her mother trailing behind
him. She was rather out of her element, after all, not being the most esteemed person in
attendance. And if Jaina had learned anything since they’d stepped through this door, it was that
every elf at this reception was varying degrees of esteemed. Or at least they carried themselves
in such a way that there was no way to really tell.

“Jaina, Jaina, Jaina.”

Jaina nearly winced at the sound of Genn’s voice. It was so...abrasive compared to the almost
musical quality of all the Elven voices surrounding them.

“Please, introduce me to your, er...ah. Well. Introduce me, won’t you?”

Katherine looked appalled at his side, and Sylvanas was standing straight-backed and impassive
next to Jaina. Unbothered, seemingly.

“Sylvanas, this is Lord Greymane. Genn, this is Sylvanas. I suppose you should meet my
mother, as well. Lady Katherine.” Jaina glanced at Sylvanas, who was already a step ahead of
her reaching for Katherine’s hand in a rather deep bow.

“Lady Katherine,” Sylvanas greeted. “A pleasure.”

Jaina noted there seemed to be certain phrases Sylvanas was more practiced in than others.
Certain actions. She was thankful for that as her mother seemed both flattered and pleased by
her greeting. Genn seemed mollified at best, but that was to be expected.

There was something about Sylvanas’s demeanor, however, that left Katherine less apt to brag or
prattle on than she had been on the Queen’s visit. Or maybe it was the grandeur that surrounded
them that kept the conversation short.

Jaina certainly couldn’t think of anything to brag about back home with all these exotic foods
and drinks flowing freely about the room carried by servants who might have been nobility
anywhere else.

The conversation was, instead, rather painful to watch. Jaina found herself feeling sorry for
Sylvanas by the time Genn and her mother finally threw in the towel, yet Sylvanas smiled at her
once they were finally as alone as one could be in a banquet hall full of people.

“You’re rather good at that,” Jaina complimented quietly.

“The politician in me,” Sylvanas responded simply, sounding every bit the noble that she was. “I
hope your meeting of my mother was less…”

“Your mother is wonderful,” Jaina interjected quickly. “I...I was terribly nervous before I met
her. I still was, of course. I still am. But she spoke to me like...like I was important instead of
tainted. I owe your mother a great deal.”
“You aren’t tainted, Lady Jaina,” Sylvanas said quietly yet adamantly. “I am certain of that
much.”

Jaina was far too touched by that reassurance for it to have come from a relative stranger. Even
if she was married to that stranger. But there had been such sincerity in her tone. Such
earnestness to find the right words and say them properly.

She was saved from trying to stumble through an appropriate show of appreciation by the
sudden feeling of a hand on her shoulder. She might have jumped were her nerves not already
frayed beyond belief.

The smile on Sylvanas’s face could’ve told her that this was no ordinary guest behind her if
she’d been paying any attention. Instead, she turned to find Lireesa holding out her arms. It
seemed odd to Jaina - to hug someone at such a formal gathering. Why she found herself in
Lireesa’s arms without a second though, she didn’t know.

“Oh, you are so lovely,” Lireesa said as she gave Jaina a little squeeze before releasing her. “It is
so good to have you here. To have you home.”

“Between your daughter and you, I am going to cry in front of every important set of eyes in the
kingdom,” Jaina warned as Lireesa reached for her hands and held them.

“Has she been waxing poetic at you already?” Lireesa asked with a spark of mischief in her
eyes.

“Mother!”

“Hush, dear.”

Jaina found herself laughing at their exchange. It had seemed so...well. Human, for lack of a
better word.

“Oh, forgive me. I can’t help but pick on her from time to time lest her head get too big for her
shoulders. They aren’t nearly as broad as her sister’s, after all. Speaking of her sister-”

Lireesa reached behind Jaina and grabbed a passing woman by her elbow with very little
gentleness.

The woman seemed more amused than bothered.

“This is Alleria. The eldest of my children.”

“The most important of her children,” Alleria corrected, and Jaina was surprised at how
naturally the Common flowed from her. She sounded a lot like Lireesa. Scarcely even an accent.
“Nice to meet you, Lady Jaina.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you as well, Alleria,” Jaina offered her hand, and Alleria took it without
a bow. More of a slight incline of her head in Jaina’s direction.

“I must be off,” Alleria said to all of them at once. “I have...business to attend to.”
“Women to attend to, she means,”

Jaina’s mind was close to spinning as she turned her head sharply to see Liadrin standing next to
Sylvanas. The lady knight she’d seen twice, now. A surprisingly familiar face.

“Ah, Liadrin,” Alleria smiled a little too sweetly at her. “Quite right, as always. Women. It’s
women that need tending. My throngs of women.”

“Alleria.”

Lireesa’s tone was sharp in a way Jaina hadn’t heard it before, and she was amused to see both
Alleria and Sylvanas’s ears press back at the sound of it.

“My apologies, Lady Jaina,” Alleria said immediately. “Talk of my harem isn’t meant for your
ears. You deserve better.”

“She does,” Sylvanas agreed, and the warning in her tone was evident even to Jaina.

Alleria sighed in defeat and gave Liadrin a light shove on her way past.

“You got me in trouble,” she muttered, and Liadrin chuckled in her deep, easy tone and returned
the shove.

“You got yourself in trouble,” she corrected, and Alleria offered no argument in return in favor
of making a quick escape.

The rest of the evening didn’t seem so daunting to Jaina after that. The wine didn’t hurt, either.
Nor the delicious food.

Yet still, her nerves began returning to her as the crowd started to thin and Lireesa pulled
Sylvanas to the side.

She was practically beside herself, actually, when Sylvanas returned to her seat next to her at the
head of the table.

“We can leave whenever you wish,” Sylvanas announced, and Jaina looked at her to see that she
looked a little worn. Not infallible after all, then.

“I’m...of course. I’m sure you’re ready to retire,” Jaina flushed and this fact was lost, entirely, on
Sylvanas.

“I am, actually,” Sylvanas let out a breath of a laugh and nodded. “Quite tired.”

“Well, then, at your leisure, my lord.”

Jaina found herself back on Sylvanas’s arm a moment later. Being led down more confusing
hallways. Confusing, yet beautiful, so it wasn’t all bad.

Jaina wasn’t really worried about the decor, however. She was more worried about what,
exactly, her evening was going to entail.
It wasn’t until they’d walked for what felt like an eternity that Sylvanas finally stopped them in
an entryway flanked by two guards that Jaina glanced at only to receive curt, quick nods from
them in tandem.

No help there, then. No clue as to what this woman might be like behind closed doors.

It mattered little. The door was opened and then closed behind them soon enough.

Jaina’s curiosity and worry redoubled as Sylvanas finally removed her heavy, embroidered
overcoat only to leave it laying on a nearby sofa as though it were any old thing instead of a
priceless piece of work.

“The sitting area,” Sylvanas explained as Jaina’s eyes wandered and her brows furrowed at the
utter opulence of it all. She was thankful, at least, for the fire crackling away in the fireplace in
front of the sofa.

“I...I had it lit for you,” Sylvanas continued when she saw Jaina’s eyes linger on the flames.
“These rooms don’t need such things. I know your kind is fond of...or perhaps you just need
fire.”

“It’s lovely,” Jaina reassured as she looked over at Sylvanas to save her from her efforts. “Thank
you.”

“Of course. Anything. Really. A fire is...well. Anything that you need, please. It’s yours.”

Jaina looked at Sylvanas for a while and then cleared her throat in an attempt to make
responding easier despite the fact that she felt a slight lump forming in it.

“That’s quite kind of you,” she said with a very faint forward gesture of one of her hands.
“Would you like to show me the rest?”

“Of course,” Sylvanas cleared her own throat and turned on her heel, though not so quickly that
Jaina would have to rush to catch up.

When all was said and done, Jaina had seen a sunroom and two bedrooms aside from the largest
of the three. She’d also seen a room of sheer silken curtains with what she knew from her studies
to be two hookahs, and likely of the highest quality if the adornments were anything to go by.

She did her best to take it all in, but she was fairly overwhelmed by the time they arrived in a
second sitting area with cushions arranged both perfectly and imperfectly all at once and no
small amount of books arranged on a wall that seemed to be made of shelves for them. An
impressive private library that more than rivaled Jaina’s own collection.

Until Jaina realized the shelves were lined with her own books. Books that had been sent ahead
of her with the rest of her things.
“Sylvanas…” Jaina broke from Sylvanas’s side for the first time and rushed over towards the
shelves and touched over a few well-worn, familiar spines. “Sylvanas, all of these are mine.”

“I...yes. Yes, they are. I hope you aren’t angry. I didn’t have the shelves for them, so I had them
built.”

Jaina turned to face her, eyes burning despite her best efforts to contain her emotions.

“Thank you,” She breathed, and the words shuddered as she spoke them. “I...thank you. I love it.
I love this room.”

“Oh,” Sylvanas looked down at her own hands and began removing her gloves to tuck them into
her belt. “I’m glad that you like it. It’s yours.”

Sylvanas paused for a moment, but she looked so deep in thought that Jaina didn’t want to
speak, lest she disturb whatever was going on in her mind.

“I think now is a good time for my gift to you,” Sylvanas finally said. “My wedding gift.”

“You got me a gift?” Jaina asked almost incredulously as Sylvanas came to a stop beside her.
“This room was so much more than anything anyone has ever given me, I-”

“It’s customary,” Sylvanas offered before Jaina could argue further. “And...well.”

Sylvanas shook her head, seemingly frustrated, and reached into the inside pocket of her jacket
to produce a small velvet pouch.

Jaina stepped forward and reached for it when it was offered to her, and she held it in her hands
for a moment before she began loosening the drawstring that held it shut.

She lifted what looked to be a necklace from it slowly. A beautiful necklace that seemed to be
silver, but didn’t feel like any silver she’d ever held. On the end, a delicately contained gem that
felt warm in her palm when she lifted it to inspect it further. Warm in a way that wasn’t natural.
That couldn’t have been.

“This is just between you and I,” Sylvanas explained. “Sometimes it is best to not let those
around you know everything there is to know about you. You’re more than well acquainted with
this notion, I’m certain. You’ve grown up in a court as I have.”

“Very well aware,” Jaina responded as she ran her thumb over the gem. “What is its
significance?” She lifted her eyes in confusion to Sylvanas. Why should a necklace be a secret?

“I’m not speaking Common, Lady Jaina.”

Jaina was stunned for a moment. She hadn’t realized. Only when she thought back did she
recognize the beautiful language that Sylvanas had been using had been a million years away
from her own.

“You weren’t, were you?” Jaina clutched the necklace in her hands a little more securely. “I
don’t understand.”
“It’s a speaking stone. That’s what we called them when they were more common. Now, though,
there are only a handful left. Hardly anyone remembers them, now. Not much need. My mother
has one, and my sisters. Only the most trusted officials. And now you.”

“And you?” Jaina asked. “You must have one, of course.”

“I’ve chosen not to wear it with you,” Sylvanas explained simply. “Just as I won’t continue to
speak my own language with you until you speak it comfortably on your own without the aid of
magic. Jaina, you’ve given everything to be here. My putting effort into using words you grew
up hearing is so little. So insignificant. But it is something that I can do for you in these rooms.
Outside of them, I can give you the promise that nothing will ever be kept secret from you
through use of a language you can’t fully understand, and that you will never be repressed
through its use. You deserve that much. To be my equal in this.”

Jaina let out a trembling breath and quickly wiped at one of her eyes as she nodded quickly.

“Thank you,” she managed to gasp, and Sylvanas stepped forward quickly.

“Don’t cry,” Sylvanas murmured as she took the necklace from Jaina and stepped behind her to
latch the delicate clasp behind her neck. Jaina was impressed she managed to do it without so
much as a graze of touch against her skin. Or perhaps she was just surprised.

“You’re speaking Common, again,” Jaina observed.

“I told you that I would.”

“You did.”

Sylvanas bit her lip and moved around in front of Jaina again.

“As kind and perfect as this all seems to be, Sylvanas, I’m sure you’re quite ready for bed.”

Sylvanas nodded faintly. “I haven’t had much sleep. You will take the large room. Myself, one
of the others.”

Jaina must have been too tired to hide her shock because her expression earned her one of
curiosity on Sylvanas’s part.

“You...wouldn’t have me on our wedding night?” Jaina asked incredulously.

“Have you?” Sylvanas asked in much the same tone. “S...sexually?”

“Well, obviously.” Jaina sounded almost indignant.

“Jaina, I hardly think...this is a marriage in title only. We are two people, and we have to make
of this what we will. We can’t do that in one night, and you shouldn’t have to offer your body to
me to try.”

“Oh,” Jaina breathed, and suddenly almost all the tension in her flooded from her and left her
feeling almost boneless. “Oh, God, you...oh.”
“I don’t agree with the expectations that your kind places on its women. I would never place
them on you now that you are here. But I do think your eyes are captivating. And I do want you
to be happy.”

“I’m sure that I will be,” Jaina said, still trying to overcome her disbelief. “You are so much
more than I could have expected. I...I don’t think you realize just how abysmal the prospect of
marriage is where I come from.”

“I’ve heard,” Sylvanas chuckled and then wondered if she should have. She decided, when Jaina
smiled at her, that she’d done just fine. “All your things are in the suite. The bathroom there is
attached, and I’m sure you would enjoy a long soak before bed.”

“That sounds divine,” Jaina sighed, and she meant it with every fiber of her being.

“Very good,” Sylvanas felt a little relieved, now, herself. She was almost shocked that nothing
awful had happened thus far today, and then with the promise of sleep rapidly approaching,
nothing bad was likely to happen until tomorrow at the very earliest. “You remember where the
rooms are, then?”

“I do,” Jaina reassured.

“I’ll let you have some peace, then,” Sylvanas offered. “We just have to make it through the
morning’s breakfast with our families and then our peace might consist of more than just a
bath.”

“One can only hope,” Jaina responded softly, and she bowed on her way past Sylvanas. The bow
was returned. She stopped at the door, though, and lifted a hand to the frame of it as she looked
at Sylvanas over her shoulder. “You’re very funny, I think. Under all the pomp and
circumstance. I think you’re very funny.”

“Do you like funny people?” Sylvanas asked, still standing in the middle of the room watching
Jaina carefully.

“Very much,” Jaina said before she released the door frame and stepped away.

Sylvanas was still combatting a faint tingle at the base of her skull as she listened to Jaina’s
retreat. She only realized once she could no longer hear Jaina’s footfall that her ears were
burning.

Well, at least that hadn’t happened until Jaina had gone. She hoped.
 The Lady's Departure

Sylvanas woke in the middle of the night much like she did nearly every night. Water. Water
usually helped. Sometimes wine.

She was just such a light sleeper. She always had been. The added unfamiliarity of having Jaina
in her rooms wasn’t helping any.

That’s what had her usual path towards the sitting room splitting off towards the main bedroom.
Her feet padded softly against the too-cold floors as she walked towards the bedroom door. She
was more than a little surprised, not only to find the door half-open, but one of the lights on.

She faltered near the door, unsure for a moment what to do.

“Hello?”

Sylvanas blinked up through the opening in the door and regretted it the moment her eyes met
Jaina’s.

“Apologies,” She called out from the hallway. “I was only going for a drink. I didn’t mean to
disturb you. Would you like a glass of water?”
“You needn’t apologize, I’m just reading,” Jaina said quietly from inside the room, and Sylvanas
cleared her throat. “This is our room, not mine. I’m only using it until...well. Anyway, yes.
Water is fine. Wine would be even better, if that’s what you’ll be having.”

Sylvanas was gone in an instant. Given a task - something to do - something to make Jaina
happy, perhaps, all her hesitation had gone. She returned only a few moments later with a glass
of wine in each hand and slipped in through the door to find Jaina half-covered in bed in a
dressing gown. Smiling at her as she put her book aside.

“You look different,” Jaina remarked as she looked at Sylvanas in the gentle illumination of the
single mage light she’d left on.

Sylvanas hadn’t even considered the fact that she must look rather unimpressive in her simple
linen shirt and pants. Nor did she consider Jaina wasn’t thinking anything of the sort.

“Here,” She responded simply, walking towards the bed and holding the glass out towards Jaina.
“Can’t you sleep?”

“New place,” Jaina explained with a soft shrug as she took the wine. “Thank you. I’ll be fine.
Used to it in no time.”

Sylvanas held her own glass in both her hands as she nodded her understanding, and they both
looked at their drinks for a moment before glancing back at each other all at once.

Sylvanas let out a breath of a laugh and shook her head. “I’m not usually…ah. I don’t know the
word.”

“You’re used to being the talk of the town, I’m sure,” Jaina offered graciously. “Like any good
prince, right? And yet here you are, worrying over me in the middle of the night. Acting as
though I might shatter if you look too hard or for too long. Unlike any prince or lord I’ve ever
met.”

Sylvanas was fiddling with the edge of her wine glass with the sides of her thumbs as Jaina
spoke. “I’ve never been married before.” She offered, wondering if that was enough of an
explanation.

“Neither have I,” Jaina responded with a quiet laugh. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I do know
that you are charming and gentle and that I’m very lucky.”

Sylvanas smiled softly down at her wine and gestured towards the edge of the bed. “May I?”

“Of course,” Jaina responded simply, watching Sylvanas as she moved to sit down - nowhere
near to touching Jaina’s side, but seemingly being careful about just that, nonetheless.

“Are you missing your home?” Sylvanas asked after taking a sip of her wine.

Jaina was rather preoccupied just looking at her now that she had a chance to actually begin to
process everything that had happened that day. So much so that one of Sylvanas’s ears twitched
in her direction and she looked over at her for an answer.
“Your ear moved,” Jaina observed as her mouth curved into a little smile. “No, I’m not missing
home. My nerves have just finally gotten the better of me, I suppose. Why aren’t you asleep?”

Sylvanas reached up to the ear that had betrayed her and stopped herself from touching it just
before she did before she dropped her hand back into her lap.

“Sometimes I don’t sleep well,” Sylvanas admitted with a faint shrug. “What are you reading?”

Jaina felt it was only proper she feel a flicker of concern over Sylvanas’s trouble sleeping,
considering they were married. She didn’t put much thought into the fact that they’d only been
married for a matter of hours. “Just an old adventurer’s novel. It used to be one of my favorites. I
find it comforting, despite it actually being rather terrible, objectively.”

“It’s acceptable to like objectively terrible things,” Sylvanas responded, and Jaina noted she’d
finished nearly all of her wine already. She decided she’d better take a sip of her own. “I like
romance, in example.”

“For example,” Jaina said quietly through her smile. “It would be ‘for’ instead of ‘in’.”

“Oh,” Sylvanas responded with a thoughtful look down at the bed between them. “I’m not sure
that makes any sense.”

“It rarely does,” Jaina sighed as she offered Sylvanas a sympathetic look.

“Thank you. For telling me. You should tell me always so that I can learn.”

Jaina was slightly stunned for a moment. She hadn’t even been sure she should’ve corrected her,
at all. To be thanked for it was unexpectedly touching.

“Will you be as patient with my learning of your own language? If I were to choose not to wear
the stone around you?” Jaina asked curiously.

“I would always be patient, yes,” Sylvanas reassured without hesitation.

Jaina smiled, again. Despite her lingering nervousness, she didn’t seem to be able to stop.

In the moments of silence that followed, Sylvanas finished her wine and stood from the bed.

“Are you going?” Jaina asked, wishing, suddenly, that she wouldn’t.

“I think I should,” Sylvanas said as she held up her empty wine glass. “This should help. And
we have an engagement in the morning.”

“With my mother,” Jaina groaned quietly as she nudged her book further away from herself so
she could at least try to get comfortable. This room was larger, even, than her mother’s room
back home. She knew already how empty it was going to feel again once Sylvanas left. “I’m so
sorry you have to be in such a difficult position so early in the morning.”

“It’s no trouble,” Sylvanas said, biting her lip as she shifted her empty glass from one hand to
the other. “Goodnight, Jaina.”
“Goodnight, My Lord,” Jaina responded with only half a smile this time. An almost knowing
smile.

“You like to call me that,” Sylvanas said as her eyes lifted to meet Jaina’s.

“I think you might like to hear it,” Jaina countered softly. “Is that a fair assumption?”

“For the most part, yes,” Sylvanas responded. “Though, I do think I would like to hear you say
my name just as much.”

“Alright, then,” Jaina said, watching Sylvanas as she walked past the mage light and brushed her
fingertips across it to dim it further than it already was. “Goodnight, Sylvanas.”

“I like that better,” Sylvanas said as she paused near the door to look at Jaina for another
moment or two. Jaina looked right back. At least until Sylvanas was gone, making her way back
to her own room.

“Our accommodations are so lovely, Lady Lireesa,” Katherine offered with a smile across the
breakfast table. It was a small gathering. Only her daughter, Sylvanas, and the Queen with a
meal fit for easily a dozen people to share between them. “As was the ceremony.”

“Thank you for saying so,” Lireesa responded easily with an even easier smile. Sylvanas
glanced between the two of them from the opposite end of the table, happy that she hadn’t had to
do any of the speaking yet. “I hope you find our breakfast as adequate. Of course, you won’t
need any strength for the journey home. We’ll provide you with portals for your journey and
you’ll arrive with comfortably full stomachs, no doubt more than ready for rest.”

“Rest sounds lovely,” Katherine remarked, glancing down the table in her daughter’s direction
for what felt, to Jaina, like the dozenth time. “Did the two of you get any rest last night?”

Lireesa frowned, Sylvanas blinked, and Jaina blushed from her chest to her ears.

“Plenty, mother,” Jaina responded, and Sylvanas looked at her in response to the slightly agitated
tone of her voice.

“We were quite tired after the ceremony,” Sylvanas continued for her. “As I am sure we all
were.”

“Quite,” Lireesa finished, effectively cutting off their current conversation as one of the servants
attending their breakfast refilled her glass from a decanter of juice he was holding.

“Right, well. The food here is quite something,” Katherine offered as she sliced one of the rolls
she’d been served in half to find it filled with some sort of cream beneath the crisp shell of
blistered honey on the outside.
“Parnis, find Quelis in the kitchens and tell him I’d like him to have a recipe book ready for
Lady Katherine by the time she departs. Include some of our honey and our wine in the bundle.”

“My Lady,” He responded simply and, with a quick, graceful bow, he was gone.

“That’s quite generous of you,” Katherine said, looking genuinely surprised.

“What’s ours is yours, now, Lady Katherine,” Lireesa responded, as though it were the most
natural thing in the world. “A few recipes is no big thing at all. Our cooks will be pleased to
know you enjoyed their craft so much.”

The rest of their breakfast went much the same as it began. Small talk. Chit chat, largely carried
along by Katherine and supported effortlessly by Lireesa all along.

In fact, Jaina and Sylvanas did very little talking. So, when Katherine asked Lireesa if she might
spare a moment alone, they were all too happy to be excused from the table to walk off their
rather heavy meal.

Lireesa waited quietly for Katherine to give some sort of explanation, her head tilted faintly and
her eyes somewhere between cold and warm.

If Katherine was intimidated, she didn’t let on.

“You wanted to speak with me?” Lireesa finally prompted after the silence stretched on longer
than her patience would allow it to.

“Well, yes,” Katherine responded, and for the first time she seemed, to Lireesa, to be nervous.
Not to a degree most people might pick up on. But then again, Lireesa wasn’t most people. “In
regards to our arrangement.”

“I’m listening, Lady Katherine,” Lireesa responded gently in a successful attempt to soothe.

“Well, my intentions were to secure lasting peace. Security. As I’m sure yours were much the
same.”

Lireesa only smiled.

Katherine pushed forward.

“I’m just not entirely certain how lasting this might be if my daughter is unable to produce an
heir for you. You have no sons, I’m assuming. Perhaps we might have discussed other options.
My own son, for instance, is-”

“Of no interest to me or to my children, Lady Katherine. Or to this kingdom,” Lireesa had to

measure herself carefully so her response wouldn’t come across too sharp. Even then, she lifted
her glass to take a sip from it to smooth her throat and her voice.

“My apologies,” Katherine said quickly in an attempt to recover. “I’m so very unfamiliar with
your customs and traditions.”
“If my daughter wants to produce an heir, that is her prerogative. And Jaina’s. They may do so
whenever they wish. Not everything is so black and white here, Lady Katherine, I assure you.
Our accord, however, is. Very much so. In giving herself to the one I hold most dear to me, Jaina
has sealed our bargain for as long as my kingdom holds these lands. I expect that to be a very
long time.”

“I’m pleased to hear I was wrong, then,” Katherine said without so much as a wince. She paused
for a beat before she spoke again.

“How long?” Katherine asked with a slight furrow of her brows. “If you don’t mind my asking?
Our legends and our books are only so...accurate. It has always been a great curiosity of mine.”

“How long have we been here?” Lireesa asked, knowing full well what the answer was.

Katherine nodded.

“Since there was only darkness once the sun set,” Lireesa responded rather nonchalantly. The
words were no less impactful. “Since we first lit the night against its chill.”

Katherine looked at Lireesa for a moment. Truly looked into her eyes for the first time. Her own
fell quickly.

“I do hope you’ve enjoyed your stay. I’m sure the Lady Jaina would like to see you before your
departure,” Lireesa glanced towards the nearest servant, who quickly moved to pull Katherine’s
chair back for her as she moved to stand up.

“Of course,” Katherine nodded her head with all the grace she could muster, and Lireesa
returned the gesture without standing before Katherine turned to be escorted from the room.

She was surprised to find Jaina waiting in the corridor alone outside, and she looked back
quickly at the door when it shut behind her, leaving them alone together.

“Jaina,” Katherine greeted as she turned her attention back to her daughter. “Was Lady Sylvanas
not only just with you?”

“She is waiting for me in the gardens,” Jaina responded softly. “She intends to walk with me
once I’ve seen you off.”

“That sounds lovely,” Katherine said, and her speech was almost stilted.

“You won’t look at me,” Jaina observed, though her tone lacked any sort of accusation. “You
can, you know.”

Katherine sighed softly and finally stopped looking past Jaina in favor of meeting her gaze. She
looked almost pained.

“You don’t need to carry this with you, you know,” Jaina said almost sadly. “The guilt. I’ll be
happy here, mother. I know I will.”

“I know that you will,” Katherine tried her best to smile. “You’ll do so many wonderful things
here.”
“Things I could never have dreamt of at home,” Jaina finished for her. “I think here is a good
place to leave the past, don’t you?”

“Do you mean that, Jaina?” Katherine asked, swallowing thickly when she found her voice
beginning to catch in her throat. “After everything, you truly mean that?”

“With all my heart, Mother,” Jaina smiled, and it was much easier than Katherine’s earlier
attempt. “I do love you. And there are parts of you that I’m certain I’ll miss. Perhaps I will find
them in our letters and in our visits, if we have them.”

“I would like that,” Katherine breathed, and she reached up quickly to catch a tear that had
slipped down her cheek before it could fall too far. “Very much, Jaina.”

“As would I,” Jaina had to stop her lower lip trembling as she stood there. Katherine’s hug was,
for once, a blessing. Her shoulder was, for once, a safe place to hide her tears.

There wasn’t much left to say once they finally parted. The human entourage was milling around
in the courtyard and Katherine was being fetched, leaving Jaina to wander towards the gardens
with her heart hammering painfully in her chest.

Sylvanas was waiting so quietly she didn’t see her when she walked through the first archway
that led towards the outer path.

“Have you been crying?” Her voice was so soft as it fell on Jaina’s ears from behind her.

“I have,” Jaina responded, turning towards Sylvanas. “Don’t fret over it.”

Sylvanas’s eyes flitted back and forth for a moment before she took a step nearer and held out
her arm.

Jaina took it and wrapped her own through it far more tightly than she had the first time they’d
walked together, and Sylvanas rested her free hand atop Jaina’s arm as they started down the
path.

“You are easy to fret over,” Sylvanas said after a few steps. “You wear your emotions so openly
in your eyes.”

“I’ve always been guilty of that, I think. And those around me have always been guilty of not
seeing me.” Jaina said as she looked down at their feet while they walked. Sylvanas was in
another pair of lovely boots. Only mildly dressed down from their ceremony the day before.
Then again, Jaina was dressed a little too formally for a garden walk, too.

“I see you,” Sylvanas murmured after a while, and Jaina squeezed her arm a little more tightly.
“I’ll do my best to keep seeing you. Regardless of what is between us.”

“You’re such a lovely person, Sylvanas,” Jaina was a little breathless. Mostly with emotion.
“Truly.”

“I’m…” Sylvanas trailed off and listened to the garden around them for a moment before she
sighed. “I’m trying to be.”
“Aren’t we all trying?” Jaina asked with a weak laugh, and Sylvanas exhaled through her nose
and nodded.

“I believe most people are, yes,” Sylvanas said. “You sound tired.”

“I am,” Jaina sighed the words. “You must find me incredibly boring.”

“I think we could both use a rest after this walk,” Sylvanas said, and then her tone shifted.
“There is nothing boring about processing everything you’ve been made to process over the past
days and weeks. There is no need to impress me. You already have. I’m captivated. I wish only
to get to know you.”

Jaina recognized the slip into an altogether different language. The words flowed and danced in
an almost musical way and Jaina was glad she’d been able to better recognize them this time,
even if she understood them as though they’d been in her own tongue.

“Such a lovely language,” Jaina whispered after a few moments of silence. “Such lovely words.”

“I mean all of my words when I say them to you. This is another promise I can make you.”
Sylvanas said as Jaina watched a bird flit past them, unlike any bird she had ever seen with
beautiful, vibrant feathers of red and gold.

“I’ll make you the same promise, then,” Jaina responded. “And once I’m well-rested and not a
blubbering mess, I would like to begin getting to know you, as well.”

“You are not a mess,” Sylvanas said with a little smile. “And only slightly blubbery, if that
means what I think.”

Jaina couldn’t hold back her laugh, then. And oh, it felt so good to laugh with Sylvanas beaming
next to her, obviously pleased with herself that she’d managed at least that much.

Lireesa glanced nonchalantly over the notes in front of her as Valeera stood before her desk
waiting to be addressed.

“How did it go? Anything interesting to report?”

“It went as expected, aside from a vague sense of unease,” Valeera said with a faint tilt of her
head. “On my part, I mean.”

Lireesa lifted her eyes immediately and all her attention was focused on the dark-clad spy in
front of her. She still smelled of blood, even from a few feet away. But then, Valeera knew
always to report directly.

“You’ve never been uneasy before,” Lireesa responded with a furrow between her brows. “What
is so different about this particular blood on your hands?”
“I felt like someone was watching me,” Valeera responded quietly, and Lireesa felt the sudden
urge to comfort her when her ears pressed back. She wouldn’t. But she felt it. “There was no
one, of course. You have my word. It was done cleanly and quickly as always.”

“Wards?” Lireesa asked curiously. “Scrying?”

“Who has the power to scry?” Valeera asked in a near-scoff. “Even you haven’t scried in, what,
ten years? More? If…” Valeera faltered and trailed off. Their thoughts both drifted to Dar’Khan
simultaneously and Valeera cleared her throat.

“Why would he watch me?” Valeera asked without bothering to explain her question.

“Coincidence, perhaps,” Lireesa contemplated aloud. “As the only scryer, things such as this are
bound to happen. It isn’t as though he isn’t aware of your dealings. Of our dealings. He is
directly involved in many of them, after all. He is just as invested in silencing those that might
do us harm as I am.”

“Of course, My Queen,” Valeera seemed to relax. She seemed to, anyway. And if she still had
any inward turmoil to work through, Lireesa would leave her to do that on her own. Valeera
recognized her dismissal when her queen’s eyes fell back to the coded messages in front of her.

Oddly, she couldn’t leave quickly enough. It was torture to maintain the decorum necessary to
depart, and once she was in the hallway she sighed a heavy, shuddering sigh as she turned the
corner. It had been like this of late. These unsettling feelings seemed to follow her wherever she
went. Into her dreams, even.

But then, her sensitivities and sensibilities were why she’d been chosen. That, and her wayward
moral compass.

And her physical compass as well, she thought, as she had to come to a complete stop to avoid
colliding with Liadrin who seemed to be heading towards where she’d come from.

Valeera wasn’t in the mood for banter.

“Sorry,” She said quietly as she tried to step aside, only to find Liadrin moving with her. She
sighed in irritation and looked up at her. Past the too-nice clothing and the affronting level of
perfection. “Excuse me.”

“Are you alright?” Liadrin asked suddenly, and Valeera recognized genuine concern in her
voice, however faint. “Is the queen alright?”

“She’ll brief you when you get there. She’s fine, obviously. I’m tired. Move.”

Liadrin fumbled for words for a moment as Valeera began pushing past her, and when she found
herself at a loss, she reached for her only to find Valeera snatching her hand away the moment
she’d taken it.

“Don’t do that,” Valeera snapped, and Liadrin pulled her hand back and looked down at it. At
the dried flakes of blood that had come off on her fingertips.
“See?” Valeera muttered as she adjusted her tunic and rolled one of her shoulders. “That’s why
you don’t do that.”

“I just wanted to apologize,” Liadrin said quickly as she wiped her hand off on her breeches,
seemingly unconcerned. Whether or not that was true, Valeera couldn’t tell. “For the other
evening in the baths.”

“Ah, your weird savior guilt complex thing,” Valeera said quietly under her breath with a nod.
“Right. No problem. Apology accepted.”

“Okay,” Liadrin’s jaw was set hard, but she bit back the urge to return Valeera’s vitriol to her.

Valeera looked at her for a moment that stretched into more, and nearly laughed as she shook her
head. “I see you aren’t in the mood for a fight today, either.”

“I guess I’m not,” Liadrin sounded almost removed, and Valeera nodded her understanding.

“You’re probably as exhausted as I am with the added wedding details and these humans
crawling all over the place,” Valeera continued. “And then it’s still business as usual on top of all
that.”

“You should get some rest. They’re gone, now. Everything will be back to normal soon enough.”
Liadrin responded. “Besides, I know you aren’t feeling well if we’re having a normal
conversation.”

“Is normal conversation the way to your heart?” Valeera asked, quirking one of her brows. “You
might’ve told me ages ago. Would’ve saved me a lot of time.”

Liadrin’s lips set into a thin line that amused Valeera more than anything, and she made sure
Liadrin saw her wink before she slipped away down the corridor.
 A Thief and a Murderer

“Shh, shh. Be still,” Valeera’s voice was a whisper. Her hand was like steel over his mouth.
Unshakable. Ruthless. She jerked her dagger upward hard and quick, and most of the strength
left in her quarry’s body melted away as she pulled it from his kidney once the deadly stroke had
been made. “There, now.”

Another whisper as she lowered him to the floor in the darkness of his bed-chamber. Before he
could gasp his pain, she ended his would-be suffering with a quick severing of the femoral in his
thigh. Easy enough to find in his dressing-down clothes. Mages did so love their thin, expensive
fabrics. Former mages, anyway. Hollow, empty things with barely a spark of magic left in them.

She removed her hand when she felt his mouth working against her palm. Aftershocks, she
thought.

But curiosity got the better of her.

“You are wrong,” he rasped with his dying breaths. “Tell the Queen you are all wrong.”

Valeera scoffed, and just as she moved her knife to avoid any further conversation, the light in
his eyes died.
She looked into them anyway. At the way the glow of them dulled and then extinguished,
entirely.

It was almost mesmerizing every time.

Not always, Valeera reminded herself as she wiped her blade on his frock to begin the process of
cleaning up her mess. It hadn’t always been this way.

It wasn’t difficult to remind herself of this when she’d gone to stand in front of Lireesa. To hand
her the messages she’d retrieved over the course of her eventful, bloody evening.

It was never difficult, then, to remember the first time she’d looked into the queen’s eyes.

Even as she exchanged words with Liadrin in the corridor outside, only half her heart had been
in their usual banter. She was thankful for the haven of the dark halls that led to her room in the
palace.

On nights like this, an encounter with Liadrin served only as a reminder of her own worth and of
her own past. She couldn’t get to her rooms quickly enough. She couldn’t get the blood off of
herself quick enough, either.

By the time she crawled into bed, she was so drained she felt she could sleep for days.

She didn’t bother to hope the dreams might not come.

They always did.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, scum?”

Valeera’s ears pressed back against her skull and her head snapped up in the direction of the
voice. Her hands froze over the jewelry box she’d only just opened.

“I’m...I’m not...I-”

“You are,” The voice sounded almost offended, and Valeera was nearly blinded by the mage
lights as they came on in response to a wave of the mage’s hand. He could only be a mage.
Valeera could tell that much. “I can smell you from here.”

“I’ll leave,” Valeera’s voice was trembling as she shut the little box and took a step towards the
door. “Please just let me leave.”

“Absolutely not,” the man scoffed with a shake of his head as he began walking towards her. He
took her wrist firmly in his hand and began leading her towards his door. “We are going to the
guards immediately.”
Valeera, even as small as she was, struggled more viciously than he had anticipated. She
struggled for her life. The penalty for thievery was severe. There was no place for criminals in
their society. Not even ones that had been orphaned long ago. Ones that were starving for a
single scrap of food.

Their sudden, unexpected scuffle ended when Valeera drew her knife and held it to his throat. It
ended when he sneered and dared her to use it.

It ended with a sickening gurgle and wide eyes and a choked sob trapped in her throat.

Perhaps a passing guard had heard the struggle. Perhaps the mage had activated some sort of
alarm she hadn’t noticed.

It didn’t much matter. The dagger had still been lodged firmly beneath his adam’s apple when
the door burst open. His blood was still bubbling from the wound to wet her fingers warmly as
they threw her to the floor with such force she knew nothing else for a long while.

The next days were a blur of anguish. The physical, she could handle. The guilt, she could not.
The realization that she could kill a man because he had dared her to...oh, that was what had
her reeling. That was what had her young mind flayed and jagged and broken.

There was no amount of mistreatment that could do her more harm than the harm she had
already done to herself.

By the time the latest guard came calling, there was almost nothing left of her. Just a shell of a
young woman in the corner of a cell that was nicer than any place she could remember ever
having slept in.

“The queen would like an audience with you.”

The words were still ringing in her ears as she was led down the hallway. She felt filthy, despite
having bathed. She’d felt filthy for days.

Mostly, she was terrified. She wanted to bolt. She wanted to scream. Anything to avoid this.

But there was no avoiding what was to come. The shackles around her wrists were inescapable.
The hand on her shoulder was too strong.

And then she stumbled as she was pushed through an open door that shut behind her.
Deafeningly.

Valeera let out a shuddering breath as she stared down at her feet, her eyes burning with a need
to shed tears that she’d run out of long ago. Her mind raced. What tribunal faced her? What
council? Would she even leave this room alive?

“Lift your chin, child.”

Valeera swallowed thickly in response to that voice. She felt compelled to obey, and she had no
idea why.
She lifted her eyes slowly, and her lips parted for her frantic breaths as she realized she was face
to face with the queen.

And no one else.

She flinched when the queen waved a hand in her direction, fully expecting her end to come then
and there.

Her hands shook violently as the shackles fell from around her wrist and landed on the floor
with a clatter, drained of the magic that had been holding them in place.

“What will you do now?” The queen asked, and Valeera looked at her from across the dimly lit
chamber like a field mouse in the eyes of a hawk. “Hm? Will you run?”

“No,” Valeera gasped emphatically. “No, Your Majesty.”

“Good girl,” Lireesa stood, and Valeera fought the urge to fall to her knees. She was almost
sure that wasn’t proper.

Yet, she shrank into herself in response to the queen’s approach. Smaller and smaller the closer
she got.

“You know me,” the queen said in a low, even tone as she came to a stop within arm’s reach.
Valeera’s eyes had left the icy gaze they’d been locked in the moment it had become too much. It
had become too much rather quickly. “Do you fear me?”

“Yes,” Valeera whispered, because she simply didn’t have it in her to lie.

“We are not so different, child,” Lireesa responded after a too-long moment of silence. “Do not
be ashamed.”

Valeera’s brow furrowed and she shut her eyes tightly as she saw the queen’s hand coming
towards her, only to find it moving beneath her chin and gripping her jaw more gently than
anyone had touched her in her life.

She was still shaking as she was guided back up to her full height.

“There, now. You will look at me when we speak. Do you think you are undeserving of such a
thing?”

“I’m a murderer,” Valeera breathed, her eyes wild and her voice trembling despite how still she
somehow managed to stand. “Your Majesty, I...please. Please, just-”

“You will not beg,” Lireesa hissed, and she tightened her grip as Valeera tried to get away from
her tone and from the sudden blaze of her eyes. “Ever again. Do you hear me, child?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, I…I don’t...I don’t understand. I’m sorry. I don’t-”

“How did it feel?” Lireesa asked before Valeera could continue. “As he died, how did it feel?”

Valeera fell silent. She felt as though her knees were a second away from giving out entirely.
The queen’s eyes searched her own for a moment, and then she lifted her other hand to tuck a
wild wave of hair behind one of Valeera’s wilted ears. “Did you feel strong, Valeera?”

The queen’s voice was a whisper, then. Gentle. Soft. Valeera had no idea how she knew her
name. She couldn’t even begin to consider why she might care to.

“Tell me the truth, because I will know if you do not. Tell me. Did you feel you had control for
the first time in your young life?”

Valeera swallowed thickly as the first tear slipped down her cheek.

“Yes.”

Her tone was both bitter and relieved all at once, and another tear followed the first.

“Dry your eyes,” the queen breathed with a gentle smile, running her thumbs across Valeera’s
cheeks and holding her face in her hands once she was done. “I will give you all of that power
and more. That feeling, you will have it again. It will be yours. Every last breath. And every life
you take - all of this will be in my name.”

Valeera was frozen. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She could scarcely breathe.

“Or you can say no,” the queen continued with a slight sideways tilt of her head as she slowly
allowed her hands to slip away.

Valeera’s eyes opened slowly to the darkness of her room. Her chest rose and fell evenly as she
turned her head against her pillow to look at the stars outside her windows. The silk of her sheets
was soothing against her burning skin as she moved her limbs in search of coolness.

She was surprised at herself for waking before the afternoon. Even more surprised that it was
still evening.

It was so unusual, actually, that it made the hairs rise along her bare arms. And then the nape of
her neck.

She reached for the knife beneath her pillow mid-stretch as she listened carefully to the silence
of her room and slowed her breathing and willed her pulse away from her ears.

She’d only just wrapped her hand around the hilt of it when she saw movement in the shadows
near her cold, dark fireplace.

The dagger flew with deadly accuracy, and she slipped from the bed before it even made contact
- dropping to the floor so she could get to a more substantial weapon.

She realized, before she did, that the dagger had lodged itself in the wall. That it had passed
through nothing at all.
As her eyes adjusted, she leaned back against her end table with a heavy ‘thud’.

The marble was cold against her bare legs as her chest rose and fell quickly.

Nothing. There hadn’t been anything there. The room was empty. It just hadn’t felt empty.

She pulled her clothes on quickly. Tied her breeches sloppily and didn’t bother to step into her
boots before she threw open her door and moved into the hallway to find it just as empty as her
room had been aside from the guards at the end of it.

There was purpose in each step she took towards them. There was cold sternness in her voice as
one of them turned to look at her the moment she first spoke.

“Tell me who passed here this night,” She demanded with her jaw set and her eyes blazing with
scarcely-contained fury.

“No one, Spymaster,” the nearest guard responded in confusion. “You have my word.”

Valeera clenched her teeth and congratulated herself inwardly for not baring her fangs.

“And yours?” She asked as her eyes darted to the second guard. A woman she was all too
familiar with for more reasons than one.

“I saw nothing,” She responded, and there was a tinge of worry in her tone. “Should I fetch
someone? Has something happened?”

Valeera glanced back towards her room for a moment before she finally looked back to the
woman she’d been speaking to. She didn’t like the worry in her eyes. The muddle of emotion
being reflected back at her.

“Send for Lady Liadrin when you exchange your post in the morning,” Valeera said, and she
managed to do it without sounding agitated, despite the fact that she was. “It isn’t urgent. I just
need to speak with her.”

Valeera lied better than she told the truth. If the woman knew that, she didn’t let on.

“Of course, Spymaster. Shall I...is there anything that you need this evening?”

Valeera’s eyes were full of a warning she didn’t speak as she answered. “I have everything I
need in my rooms, thank you. Good evening to you both.”

“Yes, Spymaster,” the woman responded quickly. She wasn’t hurt - that much was clear. Just
faintly surprised, perhaps. Maybe even a little resigned all at once. “And a good evening to
you.”

This wasn't the first time Liadrin had been to Valeera’s rooms. She'd been to them quite often,
really. This was one of the most secluded rooms in the palace, and for good reason. The
conversations had here were best not heard by passers-by.

Liadrin was expecting one such conversation when Valeera opened her door for her and shut it
quickly behind her.

She was expecting one until she immediately noticed the dagger protruding from the wall very
near to her face.

Valeera glanced from the dagger to Liadrin before she finally dislodged it and tossed it onto a
nearby table. A table she sat down at, leaving the only remaining chair for Liadrin.

“It's not like you to play with knives in your own rooms,” Liadrin observed as she sat and
reached for the dagger to examine it. “The fact that it's one of your own puts me somewhat at
ease.”

“You wouldn't know what I play with in my rooms. Anyway, there was someone here last
night,” Valeera said without any pretense, and Liadrin’s eyes darted up to meet her own.

Liadrin looked at her more closely, then. She noted the darkness beneath her eyes and the
wariness on her face. There had been almost no gravity to her statement, which was something
Liadrin was used to. It was just a bit more frustrating in this situation than most.

“If there was someone here, why did you miss?” Liadrin asked as she placed Valeera’s dagger
back on the table.

Valeera shook her head as she looked back to the place she'd seen the shadow the prior night,
and she looked to be deep in thought for a moment before she finally answered.

“I never miss,” she said, and Liadrin was a little taken aback when she realized Valeera was
worrying at her own fingernails. Such behaviors were almost utterly void from her. Normal
behaviors and displays of emotion just weren't a part of her repertoire. “I didn't miss. Nor did
they leave.”

“Then...Valeera, I don't understand what it is that you're trying to tell me.”

“Whoever it was didn't arrive, either. The guards didn't see anyone. My wards weren't triggered.
I only woke because of a dream.”

Liadrin shifted in her chair as her brows furrowed. “Could you have been dreaming, then?”

There was a flash of fang and an almost-sneer before Valeera curbed herself. In this area, at
least, they trusted each other implicitly. She knew Liadrin had to ask these things. It was only
logical to ask these things.

“No. Nor did I go back to sleep after I questioned the guards. Just to be sure. It was...it was
almost like a shade. If it was magic, it was unlike any magic I've ever seen. If it was nothing,
then…” Valeera trailed off and looked away from Liadrin entirely.

“I believe you, Valeera,” Liadrin said quickly. “Don't question yourself. I've seen you have
harder days than you had yesterday and I would trust your judgment even on the hardest of
those. I'll inform the queen.”
“Don't,” Valeera said suddenly, and Liadrin’s ears pressed back in confusion. “Don't, Liadrin.
I'm still working this out, and she doesn't need to be involved just yet. You can't go and tell her
that her spymaster’s chambers were compromised by what might as well be a ghost.”

“What will you do, then? In the meantime? How am I to ensure your safety if-”

“I have never needed anyone to ensure my safety,” Valeera cut her off quickly. Perhaps too
quickly. “That hasn't changed.”

Liadrin cleared her throat and tapped her fingertips against the edge of the table.

Valeera sighed.

“Replace my guards. Reassign my servants. And...and I need you to find out why my mark
became a mark. Discreetly.”

“And your meals?” Liadrin asked almost incredulously. “Wait, your mark? Since when have you
needed a reason?”

“I just do. Don't ask me why, just find me the information. You have ears everywhere that I
don't. I'm sure you're more than capable. And I will supply my meals, myself,” Valeera said
simply. “Until I know what this was, or until I'm confident it isn't going to happen again. You act
as though I need servants. As though any of us do.”

Liadrin levelled her gaze at Valeera and, in the end, lost to whatever tension had built between
them and looked down at the table.

Valeera might have felt smug were she not so tired.

“Alright.” Liadrin paused and clenched her jaw for a moment. “I'll never understand why you try
to do this, by the way,” Liadrin said quietly.

“What?” Valeera asked with a tilt of her head. “Remind you that our titles are as perceived and
contrived as your pristine reputation? I'm sorry. It's my favorite thing to do.”

“Why?” Liadrin asked, doing nothing to hide her agitation as she looked at the exhausted
woman across from her, wondering how she even had the energy for this right now.

“You're pretty when you squirm,” Valeera responded softly - her voice like silk, suddenly - as
though none of their prior conversation had happened. As though Liadrin hadn't only just
walked past a lodged dagger in the wall on her way in.

“And you look ridiculous when you try to cover up your very real fear with thinly-veiled insults
and flirtations,” Liadrin countered, much to Valeera’s surprise. “You needn't push me away. If
I'm to keep this from Lireesa, you can't shut me out, as well. Nor do you want to, or you
wouldn't have sent for me. Is that untrue?”

“The guard dog has teeth,” Valeera said quietly as the words hit her like a wave breaking against
rocks. “Who might have thought? If only she would put them to good use.”
“That's enough, Valeera,” Liadrin snapped as she stood from the table, and Valeera only blinked
in response as Liadrin looked down at her.

Valeera could almost hear Liadrin’s heart thrumming in her chest. She knew it was. She could
see the pulse in the side of her neck.

Liadrin regained her composure far too quickly for Valeera’s tastes. As always.

“Do you need someone to stay with you, then? Until this is sorted?” Liadrin sounded almost
haughty. Valeera exhaled through her nose before she answered.

“Are you offering?”

“Is that a no?” Liadrin asked, and Valeera shrugged.

“I suppose it is. I sleep in the daytime, anyway. Last night was a one-off thing. I hate the light,
you know. I much prefer the darkness.”

Liadrin ran her fingertips along the back of the chair she'd only just been sitting in for a moment
before she moved her hand to the pommel of the sword currently hanging at her hip and nodded.
“I can't say that I understand. But I can accept that you don't want anyone in your rooms. Best
not draw attention where attention isn't needed.”

“You understand something, then, at least. That's good,” Valeera stood and gestured towards the
door as she began walking Liadrin towards it. “I think you know more about the dark than you
let on. But I suppose that's none of my business.”

Valeera reached past Liadrin for the handle of the door and stopped when Liadrin caught her
eyes with own.

“Perhaps I do,” Liadrin responded, and Valeera was suddenly too aware of how close they were.
“And perhaps I don't need your constant reminders of that.”

“Are you so sure?” Valeera asked, still not opening the door.

“Are you so sure your infatuation would remain intact if you found out the answer to that
question?” Liadrin asked, her voice lower, even, than usual.

Valeera said nothing for a moment. She just smiled in a way that was indescribable between
wickedness and amusement.

“My infatuation,” she finally mused aloud. “As though I don't see how your eyes wander.”

The door opened, but only a crack. “As though I don't dress for them.”

Liadrin’s eyes darted downward almost embarrassingly towards the black silk of Valeera’s shirt
that hung against her chest rather loosely. Only half tied and tucked into leather breeches dark as
night, all the darker for the way it all complimented her pale skin.

Liadrin's ears reddened as she looked over Valeera’s shoulder for a moment before reaching to
cover her hand over the handle of the door. Her own was rough and calloused and scarred. Even
the palm of it, as it rested over Valeera’s hand and her wrist.

Valeera would've shuddered if she didn't have the self-control that she did.

“Are we done here?” Liadrin asked, still holding Valeera’s hand firmly against the door handle.

“Yes, pretty Knight. I'll keep you abreast of any new developments. You can look at them, by
the way. I don't mind. It's worse when you pretend you don't. I'm rather vain, you see. I like to
know I'm being appreciated. I do so hate assuming.”

Liadrin rolled her eyes and scoffed, and Valeera chuckled as she finally opened the door to allow
Liadrin to retreat.

She didn't right away, though, much to Valeera’s surprise. She lingered in the doorway and
looked around the hallway before turning back to Valeera.

“Take care of yourself,” Liadrin told her. “Without any unnecessary risks.”

Valeera looked almost confused for a moment as she processed Liadrin’s tone and her words.

“Alright.”

“Good day, Valeera,” Liadrin said. “Your guards are fresh and alert. They are two of my own.
You should rest.”

“Perhaps I will,” Valeera relented. She'd felt the exhaustion tugging at her very bones since
yesterday. It had only doubled over on itself since her early morning encounter.

“Good girl,” Liadrin responded, mirroring Valeera’s words from the hot pools back at her. There
was something in her voice Valeera wasn't used to hearing, and if she did, in fact, have an
infatuation - those words had hit every subtle nuance of that infatuation all at once.

Valeera shut the door rather firmly and latched it before retreating to her windows across the
room so she could draw her curtains. Ones made especially for her that didn't allow even the
faintest sliver of harsh morning light in.

The last thing she needed right now was any sort of harshness. Especially when that harshness
was the type that revealed things she would rather not see, as light was so apt to do.

No, she would retreat to her bed and know nothing more until late that afternoon, and only then
would she begin to chip away at her newest problem. No doubt with Liadrin’s words spinning
tales in her mind while she did her best to ignore them.

They were awfully hard to ignore, though.

Valeera could've sworn she'd heard a hint of darkness in them. A touch of danger.

She found herself wishing she hadn't been so cold to her guard the prior evening as she pulled
her sheets around her now-naked frame so that something, at least, might touch her. Might
provide her warmth without seeking something in return that had never been hers to give.
 Adjudication

Jaina stared down at the board with a furrow between her delicate brows and a look of
concentration on her face as her hand hovered over what, back home, would have been a knight.
Here, Sylvanas had informed her, it was a charger. Jaina had expressed great interest in this
difference, because horses in her own kingdom didn’t come with beards and horns.

Sylvanas had promised to take her to the stables, and with that future promise of sated curiosity,
Jaina had focused her attention back on the fact that she was losing. Terribly. And she felt as
though she lost more ground each time she made a move.

Sylvanas, to her credit, was infinitely patient. For all Jaina knew, they’d been sitting there in the
royal garden for hours between moves while Jaina did her best to grasp unfamiliar rules and
moves and utilize them against someone as sharp as her new spouse. Because if she’d learned
anything over the past days, it was that Sylvanas was almost infuriatingly intelligent.

Even now, her eyes darted around the board as Jaina thought about her next move, and Jaina had
no doubt Sylvanas had already planned the entirety of the very sorry match they were playing.

Yet, it was nice. It was nice to play as her equal.

“It’s nice, what you’re doing,” Jaina decided to say aloud as she sighed and slowly looked up to
find Sylvanas doing the same, only where there was a look of mingling fatigue and appreciation
on Jaina’s face, there was only confusion on her wife’s.

“What am I doing?” Sylvanas asked, and Jaina smiled because another thing she’d learned was
that Sylvanas was, with her at least, painfully honest. Almost to a point of innocence unlike
Jaina had ever seen from a member of any court, much less someone of such importance. Yet,
the sharpness of Sylvanas’s gaze wasn’t lost on her. So similar to her mother’s, yet different
enough that it was only...warm. Yes. It was warm to be locked in her gaze. Jaina couldn’t think
of a better comparison just then. Her thoughts were otherwise consumed with diagonals and
checks and any number of other things.

“Playing with me the way that you are,” Jaina explained, glad enough for the break - if only for
a moment or two. “It seemed back home that any game I ever won - and I won most of them - I
was only ‘allowed’ to win. Now, I know this to be untrue. You see, men have a way about them.
Especially young ones. They can never be wrong, and you can never be better at something than
them. If you are, it is because they let you be.”

Sylvanas only smirked wryly and looked back down at the board with a faint shrug. “Your men,
perhaps. How ridiculous. I only want to find a good chess partner,” She explained simply. “How
will you become good unless I play how I am meant to play?”

Jaina touched her fingertips along the horn of the charger she’d been thinking of moving, and
Sylvanas shifted in her chair as her attention split between Jaina and the board.

“I suppose you’re right,” Jaina mused, though she wasn’t looking where Sylvanas was. She was
looking for tells.

Sylvanas realized this all at once, and her smirk broadened slightly as she looked at Jaina
knowingly.

“Did you play many gambling games where you came from?” Sylvanas asked, leaning back in
her chair and crossing one of her legs over the other with such grace it left Jaina staring for a
moment. That was still something she was getting used to. The way everyone here seemed to
move with so little effort. Especially people like Sylvanas and her mother and the knights she’d
seen now and again. It was the type of thing that made Jaina wonder if Sylvanas had ever so
much as spilled a drop of water in the entirety of her life.

“It would have been improper for a Lady to gamble,” Jaina responded, removing her hand from
the charger and touching the edge of the board instead. The gold gilding of it was cool beneath
her fingertips, and the light in the charger’s eyes slowly died out in the absence of her touch.

“And yet you are watching me to see if your guesses are correct or not,” Sylvanas continued,
seemingly unconcerned as to whether or not Jaina might find this offensive.

“You caught me,” Jaina responded with a one-shouldered shrug as she, too, leaned back in her
chair and let the dappled sunspots of the garden wash over her face. “I was a bored teen, and I
found the card games and the opposition’s dismay endlessly entertaining.”

“I find you entertaining,” Sylvanas responded with a soft laugh. “And I enjoy playing this with
you.”
Jaina only let out a soft breath and glanced down at her lap in response to the free and open
compliments that flowed like honey to her ears. Sylvanas was getting more comfortable with her
language. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but her accent was as lovely as her continued
attempts.

Sylvanas gestured towards the piece Jaina had only just been touching when it became clear
Jaina had no response to that. “It’s been too long since I’ve played with a mage. This set is
beautiful when you are using it.”

Jaina frowned in confusion. “Only when I’m using it? Your pieces have done the same as mine.”

“Only because you are here,” Sylvanas explained easily. “This set was a birthday gift to me from
my sister, Alleria.”

“Oh?” Jaina asked, her curiosity clearly piqued. “For what birthday, exactly?”

“My thirtieth,” Sylvanas explained, looking almost sly, suddenly, across the little garden table.
“You are so curious about my age, and yet you do not ask it. Why?”

Jaina looked as though she were about to choke on nothing in particular, but pushed past her
discomfort for the sake of the moment. They were getting to know each other, after all. Jaina
was getting to know this woman that looked very much like some sort of royal portrait the way
she was sitting right then in her high-collared shirt peering at her with a smile half-hidden
between two of her fingers against her lips.

“Is it proper? For me to ask that of you, I mean?” Jaina asked, still sounding faintly hesitant.

“Would you like to know?” Sylvanas asked. “You are married to me, after all. And I am very
well aware of your age.”

“Well…” Jaina trailed off, shocked that something could be so simple and straight-forward. “I...I
suppose I would like to know it, then.”

“In just over one month I will be eighty-seven,” Sylvanas said without hesitation, and Jaina’s
eyebrows shot up immediately.

“You would be near death where I come from,” Jaina responded in shock before she could stop
herself, and her cheeks colored deeply almost at once.

Her embarrassment was quickly forgotten as Sylvanas broke into hearty, genuine laughter.
Jaina’s blush wasn’t gone, but the sight of Sylvanas doubled over her own lap had her smiling
broadly nonetheless.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Jaina finally said when Sylvanas took a moment to catch her
breath and wipe at her eyes.

“You have no idea,” Sylvanas began, “how much I wish some of the council could hear you say
such a thing. They will look at me as though I am an infant for at least another two or so
decades.”
Jaina mulled that statement over for a moment as she looked over the table, her worries over her
next move in their game all but forgotten. She supposed Sylvanas really did look rather young. If
all the grace and gravity were stripped away, Jaina might have guessed her to be not all that
much older than herself.

Her mind prodded her on, then. Reminded her of the very sister that had gifted Sylvanas this
chess set. The one she’d seen in a blur of faces at their wedding reception and then never again.
Not yet, at least.

“Alleria, then,” Jaina continued almost brazenly. “How old is she?”

“I couldn’t tell you that,” Sylvanas said with a chuckle and no shame at all. “I don’t know that
anyone could, least of all her. Mother, perhaps, might know.”

“I’ve only seen her at the reception, but she didn’t look all that much older than you. I mean, I
can’t say that I always remember my brothers’ birthdays, but-”

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Sylvanas explained quickly, as though the thought she might have
forgotten something that seemed of importance to Jaina was utterly unacceptable. “It’s just that
all I know is that she’s...I don’t know how you would say this. I haven’t had cause to say it.
Millenia. Is this a word that you use?”

Jaina was silent for a moment as the wheels turned in her head but left her voice in the dust.

“Millenia?” She finally asked as the furrow that had been forming between her brows deepened.
“A thousand years, only...more? More of those?”

“Two of those,” Sylvanas said after squinting her eyes for a moment. “At least, I think. I’ll have
to remember to ask Mother some time.”

“Ask me what, child?” Lireesa’s voice was full of mirth and utterly unexpected from over
Jaina’s shoulder, but Jaina was still working too hard on the numbers to be very surprised by it.
Lireesa didn’t seem overly interested in their conversation when Jaina finally looked up at her.
She seemed very interested in the chessboard between her and Sylvanas, however. “Nevermind
that, how are you faring, Jaina, in your game?”

Jaina, suddenly remembering she was playing a game at all, tore her eyes from the suddenly-
appeared queen and gestured rather helplessly towards the board. “I was just about to lose when
I decided to distract Sylvanas with conversation, instead.”

“Mm,” Lireesa hummed in the back of her throat as Sylvanas lifted a hand to her own face,
looking oddly placid. Almost pensive. “Just about to lose?”

“I’ve been losing all morning,” Jaina explained with a soft laugh. “I’ll catch on eventually.”

Jaina cast a questioning glance in Sylvanas’s direction when her wife’s pensive look grew even
more pensive. She had to stop herself from mouthing a silent ‘what’ in her direction. Something
about Lireesa just made Jaina feel like there was no use trying to hide such things.

“But my darling girl,” Lireesa said warmly as she reached for the charger for a moment and
picked it up to look at it. It was the very one Jaina had only just been contemplating. “You aren’t
losing at all.”

She placed the charger two spaces away from where it had originally been, and Sylvanas’s eyes
shut as she sighed and dropped her head into her hand.

“And now that he is there…” Lireesa began, and with a subtle gesture - a single square
illuminated softly. The only available square for Sylvanas’s queen to move to. “Her queen has
been checked.”

Jaina leaned forward immediately to examine the board, and her lips parted in near-disbelief as
she realized Lireesa was right. She’d been one move from winning the game. And rather
soundly, at that.

“Mother, this really isn’t-”

“Hush, now,” Lireesa chided Sylvanas before she could continue, albeit with a small smile as
she reached out and reset the board for them. “You were probably making eyes at her or she’d
have seen it, herself.”

“Making eyes?” Sylvanas demanded, her ears flattening as she attempted to look as indignant as
possible. “At my wife? Making eyes at my wife? To win a game of chess?”

“I have no doubt in my mind,” Lireesa drawled, glancing at Jaina and giving her a quick wink.
“Enjoy your morning, the both of you. And Jaina, do let me know when you’re ready to begin
your excursion into your talents. The Grand Magister is eager to meet you. After you’ve settled
in well enough, of course.”

“Thank you,” Jaina said, trying her best to not seem quite so in-awe as she was worried she
perpetually did in Lireesa’s presence. “And I will. If you’d like for me to begin now…”

Jaina trailed off when Lireesa shook her head.

“We’ve all the time in the world, Jaina,” Lireesa said easily despite Sylvanas’s eyes on her. The
weight of her daughter’s gaze wasn’t the heaviest weight she’d uttered smooth words out from
under. “It is so good to see the two of you enjoying each other’s company. Enjoy it for a while
longer, at least. It is such a rarity for my daughter’s schedule to be so clear.”

“Of course,” Jaina said, and Lireesa responded with a warm smile and a hand against her back
before she took her leave - away from the gardens and back into the shadowed arches that led
into the inner sanctum of the palace.

She was sure they both knew Sylvanas’s schedule wasn't all that clear, really. At least in Jaina’s
opinion. Sylvanas was never in their rooms when Jaina woke in the mornings. Jaina never even
caught sight of her until breakfast, and she nearly always had a page following her with an
armful of scrolls to be stashed away in one of their many rooms. Meetings. Meetings earlier than
Jaina found at all acceptable, yet Sylvanas never complained.

Jaina looked after Lireesa for a moment longer before she finally turned her attention back to
Sylvanas, and her smile fell when she saw something rather foreign in her eyes. Foreign even to
Jaina, who had only known her for such a short time.
“Is something wrong?” Jaina asked, and Sylvanas blinked that look away quickly and nearly lied
before she caught herself.

The stumble was so obvious. So unlike her.

“I…” Sylvanas let out a breath and looked down at the table. “I only find it easy when I am with
you to forget for a while that I have responsibilities outside these walls. You make it very easy to
forget these things.”

Jaina didn’t say anything, and Sylvanas winced and looked away.

“I’m being too forward.”

“You aren’t,” Jaina said quickly. “It’s only that sometimes I don’t know what to say. I’m not
entirely used to just speaking what’s on my mind, or to those around me speaking what’s on
their own. But you aren’t being too forward. If...if I might be so bold, I do enjoy it. Maybe that’s
not the right word. I like to know that you aren’t entirely disinterested in me. That I haven’t
caused you to be, yet.”

“I don’t think you should be worrying about that,” Sylvanas said as she relaxed a bit into her
chair, her attention far from their next game.

“I get the feeling, sometimes, that I might always know less of you than you know of me,” Jaina
continued, “And that’s fine, of course. But I do want you to believe that I want to know. About
the responsibilities and about your family and about why you seem so...careful, still, I suppose.”

Sylvanas pressed her lips together and steepled her hands for a moment, looking down at them
and turning them over before she sighed quietly.

“I’m careful because I’m scared,” She said with a lift of one brow as she looked up at Jaina, her
face open and honest as anything Jaina had ever seen.

“Of what?” Jaina asked as gently as she could, because that look struck her more deeply than
she could have prepared herself for.

“Is it okay that I’m not certain of what, exactly?” Sylvanas asked, reaching for one of the chess
pieces just to have something in her hands. They’d never felt so empty or so useless.

“Of course,” Jaina said, because how could she say anything else, when it was so clear that was
what Sylvanas needed to hear? It was strange to be so compelled by someone. By just the
softness of their voice and the fidgeting of their deft fingers against a chess piece. Looking for
something to do.

“Could we go to the stables?” Jaina asked, suddenly, and Sylvanas seemed encouraged by the
suggestion. “If you don’t mind another venture before our lunch with...”

Jaina made a noise in the back of her throat and rubbed at her temples before she sighed in
defeat. “I’ve forgotten who we’re having lunch with.”

“Rommath,” Sylvanas responded graciously with a look of sympathy on her face. “We’ll visit
the stables, and then we will have our lunch with Rommath, and then I would very much like to
return to our rooms for a long soak.”

“Are you tired?” Jaina asked, her eyes following as Sylvanas stood and offered her a hand which
she took easily. She didn’t let go just yet. The warmth of it was much nicer than the arm she
nearly always held when they walked.

For once, Sylvanas didn’t offer it, much to Jaina’s surprise.

“I am, yes,” Sylvanas admitted as she glanced over at Jaina while they made their way out of the
gardens. “Does it make me poor company?”

“Not at all,” Jaina said as she cautiously spread her fingers. It was strange at first when Sylvanas
slipped her own between them. She was so used to the gloves Sylvanas always wore that she’d
never even had a chance to feel how rough her palms were, or how easily the warmth of her skin
seeped into her own. “Perhaps we should play chess more often if it means I’ll get to hold your
hand afterward.”

“You like to hold my hand?” Sylvanas asked with very little inflection to her tone aside from
gentle curiosity.

“I do, it seems,” Jaina exhaled amidst a laugh. “To be honest, it’s just occurred to me you nearly
always wear gloves. And of course, we don’t share a bedroom, so...well. Yes. I like it.”

They both looked over at the same time, and Jaina found herself more than a little charmed by
the subtle upturn of the corners of Sylvanas’s lips and the honesty of the tiredness in her eyes, if
only because it was all so soft and freely given.

They held hands the entire way to the stables.

Jaina took care in committing to memory all the callouses just as well as the soft places, and she
tried to settle the slight thrill in her chest that came along with each soft brush of Sylvanas’s
thumb against her own.

The stables were wonderful, of course. The walk there was lovely. Like something out of a tale.
The further they got from the main palace, the more Sylvanas seemed to come alive. Jaina found
it both ridiculous and utterly disarming when she looked down at one point to find Sylvanas
handing her a rather lovely flower she’d picked from a path along their way.

A flower she would come to learn was quite coveted by the very horses she’d asked to visit. As
a snack, no less. Not that Jaina minded. They were enchanting animals. Lively and intelligent
and keenly interested in earning the attention Jaina offered.

She admitted to Sylvanas that she missed riding, and found herself with a date the very next day
to be taken into the countryside for the first time. Sylvanas seemed more than eager to make the
offer, and of course, Jaina accepted. She was almost as excited for the ride itself as she was to
see more of the kingdom. She’d always loved horses, after all, and these were exceptional.

Lunch wasn’t nearly as exciting. Jaina found herself smiling through it politely past a lingering
feeling of disappointment she’d begun feeling at the realization that the Sylvanas she’d come to
very much prefer disappeared quickly in the presence of Rommath, an apparent member of the
Queen’s Council.
At least Rommath was pleasant, if not almost overly curious about Jaina’s abilities. A bit of
Jaina’s apprehension left her during that conversation, however, because it was just such a nice
change to be met with excitement in regards to this subject as opposed to fear or apprehension.

Sylvanas was all too content to enjoy her lunch silently while Rommath and Jaina’s rather stiff
and formal talk quickly shifted into happy chatter. She seemed in her own world by the time
they’d worked their way through far too much food and Rommath had finally seemed to notice
her again.

“Ah,” he said with a bit of mirth dancing in his eyes. “It seems we’ve bored you halfway into an
early grave, Sylvanas. A good thing, then, that our lunch is over.”

Sylvanas sat up a little straighter and offered him a smile. “Not at all. I’m glad you and Jaina are
getting on. Perhaps you might be willing to be involved in her future learning?”

“I would be honored, of course. Is Dar’Khan not handling her tutelage? I’d heard-”

“Of course he is,” Sylvanas said with a dismissive gesture of her hand all while Jaina watched
from her seat beside her. “But I’m rather fond of you.”

“Well, if it would please you,” Rommath’s voice was smooth and silky in an almost teasing way.
Jaina didn’t sense any ill-will behind it. If anything, the fact that Sylvanas seemed amused by his
sudden change in attitude was comforting and she found herself drawn into the moment as it
passed between them.

“Oh, Rommath, you always please me. But yes, I would very much like it if you were involved.”

Jaina couldn’t decide if they were flirting or negotiating, suddenly. She did decide, however, that
the way Rommath bowed to Sylvanas and kissed her hand as he took his leave was rather
exaggerated almost to the point of hilarity.

Sylvanas sank bonelessly into her chair the moment the door shut behind Rommath, leaving
them alone in the parlor of their private rooms after what felt, to Jaina, like far too long. If only
for Sylvanas’s sake.

“Would you like me to draw you a bath?” Jaina offered as she reached over tentatively to wrap a
hand around Sylvanas’s forearm through her shirt.

“You should just relax,” Sylvanas responded as she turned her head to look at Jaina, and she
pursed her lips for a moment before she turned her hand over in a subtle offer.

Jaina glanced at it and slid her hand lower to give Sylvanas’s a squeeze before she found
Sylvanas twining their fingers together.

“Can I ask you something?” Jaina responded as she held onto Sylvanas’s hand a little tighter,
scared she might ruin the moment with her ever-present curiosity.

“Always.”
“Are you and Rommath….or, were you...ah, you know. Do you? Know?” Jaina’s cheeks had
darkened while Sylvanas watched her work for the words, and not very well. It took a moment
for her to fully understand what Jaina was asking.

“Rommath is a flirt, but he has no interest in women,” Sylvanas said when it finally dawned on
her, and she ran her thumb across Jaina’s knuckles slowly. “In much the same way, I have no
deep fondness for men, pretty though they may be.”

Jaina nodded her understanding and had to laugh at herself if only to ease her own sudden
discomfort.

“Can I ask you something in return?” Sylvanas said, and Jaina nodded without hesitation. She’d
found Sylvanas had so few questions for her that it made her own seem endless. To her, at least.

“How do you feel about women? I know that you don’t take issue with our marriage. You’ve
made that clear. I mean how do you truly feel. Personally, rather than politically.”

“I think women have a tendency to be beautiful,” Jaina began as she worried her hand had begun
to go clammy in Sylvanas’s gentle hold. “If you’re asking me on...well. I suppose on the same
level as I asked you about Rommath, then, I find them just as appealing as men. I think, perhaps,
this wasn’t as common where I come from. There was a girl there that I was close with that was
quite...erm. Popular. With women, I mean. I found her very fascinating in the way one might
find a brave here fascinating.”

“You loved her?” Sylvanas asked, but there was a smile on her face rather than any sort of
accusation.

“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s only, she made me wish that might ever be a real option for me.
Just so that I could decide for myself. Even though I was so certain, at the time, that it never
would be an option. It isn’t that I would have been dissatisfied if you had been a man. Well. I
suppose it doesn’t matter, does it? You aren’t one. A man, I mean. And you’re...well. Perhaps
the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever met. So it all worked out quite well in the end.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever won out in this area against my mother,” Sylvanas admitted to Jaina
quietly. “This area of breathtaking...ness. Of being breathtaking. In any regard, I would be lying
to you if I told you I’m not feeling quite proud of myself.”

“You’re warm,” Jaina explained quietly and earnestly. “There is so much warmth in you. Does
that make sense? In your eyes. Your hands. My attentions are only for you. I find it almost
impossible to see anyone else in a room that you happen to be in as well. I think about you at
night sometimes, even. I’ve wondered what it might be like to be held by you. By your warmth.”

Sylvanas’s almost impeccable ability to find a response to nearly anything seemed to have fallen
by the wayside, because it was all she could do to just look into Jaina’s eyes, then. She found no
dishonesty there. In fact, what she found felt almost like desperation. To be believed, perhaps.
Perhaps desperation for more than just Sylvanas’s belief.

“When we arrive at that point, I will be sure that you are warm, then,” Sylvanas offered, finally,
when she realized she should probably be speaking. “And I will find joy in your warmth.”
Jaina found herself breathless and it made her feel almost silly as she had to look away from
Sylvanas’s eyes. “You said that in Thalassian.” She observed through a stilted almost-laugh.

“I did,” Sylvanas said.

“It was lovely,” Jaina continued. “I really should be putting more effort into my proficiency in
your language.”

“I don’t mind if you speak it to me through the stone, you know,” Sylvanas said. “If it would
please you to do so.”

“I think...I think I might stop wearing it in our rooms, as you don’t wear your own with me,”
Jaina realized when she finished speaking that that had sounded more like a question than a
statement.

Sylvanas released her hand carefully and reached out just as carefully to touch the delicate chain
that draped down over Jaina’s collarbones. She didn’t move towards the delicate little stone that
she knew rested lower, beneath the collar of her dress. She only took the little section of chain in
her fingertips and ran her thumb along the links as Jaina felt she might melt into her chair.

“This was mine,” Sylvanas admitted after a long while before releasing the chain and pulling her
hand back as she caught Jaina’s gaze with her own. “And I very much want you to wear it,
always. But if you would like to take it off when it is only us, I would find that just as
meaningful.”

“Yours?” Jaina asked almost incredulously. “But you…”

“I don’t need it, and you do,” Sylvanas offered easily. “And it makes me very happy to see it on
you every day.”

“Oh,” Jaina breathed, reaching up to touch the place Sylvanas’s hand had only just been. “Oh,
well...I’m glad. I’m very glad it makes you happy, then.”

Sylvanas stood from her chair, then.

“I’ll send for the servants to clear away our lunch. I’ll be in my rooms after I’ve bathed. Would
you send one of them to wake me for dinner if I somehow manage to be so useless until then?”

“Of course,” Jaina said, trying her best to pull herself from the moment as easily as Sylvanas
had, with very little real success. “Sleep well.”

“Have one of the servants take you to the library or to the stables or wherever you might like to
go, Jaina. There isn’t any reason for you to sequester yourself just because I’m very boring,
today.”

“You aren’t boring,” Jaina said quietly, and Sylvanas snorted indignantly in a way that nearly
had Jaina laughing. “You aren’t.” She reiterated as she stood, as well, while Sylvanas went to the
door to open it for the servants waiting just outside. “I...I might like to go to the library until
dinner, though.”
“Well, your standards are questionable, but I accept your graciousness. Enjoy your time at the
library. I wouldn’t mind if our rooms had new stacks of books in them when I woke.” Even as
Sylvanas spoke, she was making her way out of the parlor and away from Jaina, and for the first
time, Jaina felt a very distinct pull in the direction she was going. Not just from the knowledge
that she would miss having the company. Something very specifically centered around Sylvanas,
herself.

Something that would clearly have to wait. Jaina reminded herself of her impending trip to the
library. One that, as promised, was greater than anything she had ever seen, and it was
consolation enough. For now, at least.
 Reflection

Valeera let out a heavy breath just before she opened the door. Her mind was already scrambling
for barbs and amusing greetings when her eyes fell on Liadrin standing in the doorway, dressed
down in a pair of breeches and a loose, dark shirt. She was holding a small bag that Valeera
could tell, by the smell of it, contained food.

She couldn’t believe Liadrin had done all her work for her.

“You brought...a lunch?” Valeera asked with a narrowing of her eyes and a tilt of her head.

“Yes...” Liadrin sounded and looked almost as forlorn as she did wary, but Valeera had no
intention of stopping there.

“In a sack,” Valeera continued, still leaning a little sideways with her hand on the frame of her
door. “Like a schoolchild.”

Liadrin let out a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes so sharply Valeera nearly commended her effort.

“Enough. May I come in?”

Valeera tsk’d and took a step back in order to open the door wider and allow Liadrin entrance.

“I still think this is entirely unnecessary,” Valeera drawled, shutting and locking the door behind
her with her lips pursed. “Unless it’s all a not-so-subtle ruse to get into my pants. In which case,
they are lace-front.”

Liadrin made her way further into the room and placed her bag down on a little table that in the
sitting room with two chairs at it. She lifted a brow at the candle burning in the middle and
gestured towards it.

“Subtlety?” She asked, pulling out the nearest chair for herself and sliding down into it. “You’ve
got a candle burning and next to none of your mage lights on, and you’re remarking on my
subtlety?”

Valeera scoffed and followed Liadrin towards the table, though she walked past it and towards a
cabinet situated against the far wall. Liquor, Liadrin realized when she opened one of its doors.
Fine, expensive bottles along with a few odds and ends. Sparkling things that Liadrin had never
seen Valeera in. Things she doubted that she ever would see her in.

“I prefer candlelight. It’s easier on my eyes,” Valeera’s tone was dry and mildly agitated. No
doubt in response to Liadrin’s attempt at a dig. Which meant it had hit, but not so deeply that
Liadrin needed to feel poorly about it.

“Fair enough,” Liadrin conceded as she opened her bundle to pull out a sandwich of roast bird
and fresh bread as well as greens from the kitchen gardens. “In any event, I’m not here for
anything of the sort. I’m here because you agreed that if something happened to you, and
Lireesa found out that not only were you dead, but that I knew that was a slight possibility, she
would draw and quarter me, herself.”

“I agreed you were probably right about that,” Valeera countered. “I did not agree to company.”

“I’m sorry, did you have a date?” Liadrin asked dryly. “Have one of my captains come back in
from the field?”

“Shut up,” Valeera muttered, though she was already walking back towards the table with a deck
of cards in one hand and a bottle and two glasses in the other. Liadrin might have been
impressed were she not very aware that those hands were capable of much more difficult feats.
“I hope you like dark liquor.”

“I like it well enough,” Liadrin said around her first bite of food. Wordlessly, she slid the
remaining half of her sandwich in Valeera’s direction.

Wordlessly, Valeera examined it before picking it up and mirroring Liadrin’s bite.

“What card games do you know?” Valeera asked as she cut the deck one-handed with ease.

Liadrin was quiet long enough that Valeera stopped shuffling and stopped chewing all at once.

“You don’t know any card games.”

“No,” Liadrin responded with a lift of her brow that looked almost like a challenge. “Sorry to
disappoint.”

Valeera looked at Liadrin as though something were dancing on the tip of her tongue, and then
she looked down at the cards she was once again toying with.

“I’ll teach you,” She said as she split the deck again before she poured them both half a glass
and placed Liadrin’s within her reach.

“I’m a fast learner,” Liadrin offered, and Valeera huffed out a laugh.

“I bet.”

“Not-” Liadrin cut her eyes up at Valeera just in time to catch her wink. “Fuck you.”

“Later,” Valeera offered as she tossed a card in Liadrin’s direction, following with a few more in
quick succession. “I’m teaching you something.”

Liadrin decided to bite her tongue if only to stop herself trying to defend her sexual prowess
when she knew good and well she was being baited.

“What are we playing for?” Liadrin asked as she looked over the cards in her hand and peered
over them at Valeera once she identified them.

“That’s the spirit,” Valeera murmured as she arranged her cards with an almost cat-like smile.
“Secrets.”

“That isn’t very tangible, is it?” Liadrin asked, already feeling a touch of nervousness creeping
along her spine.

“Planning on losing?” Valeera asked, and Liadrin huffed.

“Fine. We’ll play for secrets.”

“Fine.” Valeera hummed. “I’ll give you this first one, after that you’re on your own.”

Liadrin was still smiling a few hands later as Valeera sucked at her own teeth and crossed her
legs beneath the table.

Thus far, she’d learned Valeera’s age, her favorite book, and that she actually quite enjoyed
reading, and, much to Valeera’s surprise, which of Liadrin’s captains was the best lay.

Valeera looked agitated all the way up until the moment Liadrin revealed her hand, at which
point Liadrin realized the look on Valeera’s face hadn’t been at all genuine.

The nervousness returned the moment she realized she’d been had, and she gestured in Valeera’s
direction.

“Your turn, I suppose.”

“Why don’t you know how to play cards?” Valeera asked without hesitation, her eyes leveled
hard and steady on Liadrin’s face.
Liadrin returned Valeera’s gaze and reminded herself that all of her own questions had been
answered without much fuss.

“No one ever taught me,” Liadrin said as she slid her cards in Valeera’s direction.

Valeera covered her hand on them for a moment before she slipped her fingers away and pulled
the cards into the deck she was already holding.

“Why?” Valeera asked. “That was a cheap answer.”

They’d done a number on the bottle they’d been sharing. Valeera’s tongue was loser, even, than
usual. And she knew it. She just didn’t have it in her to care any longer. That’s what she told
herself as she waited for Liadrin to catch up to her.

“It wasn’t important,” Liadrin finally responded. “Cards weren’t ever important, and by the time
I might have cared to learn something so leisurely, I was...well. It still wasn’t important.”

“They don’t play a lot of this in royal courts, I guess,” Valeera mused as she dealt Liadrin
another hand.

Liadrin bit her tongue and picked up her hand. She lost, again.

“You act like...like a priestess. Like a goddess,” Valeera said after she mulled over her thoughts
for a moment. “Why?”

Liadrin began to speak in her own defense almost immediately only to find Valeera cutting her
off quickly.

“No. No, that’s not my question. I rescind. I wanna know why you think you’re better than me.”

Liadrin was shocked, not at the question, but at the slight break in Valeera’s voice on the last
word. Shocked enough that she wasn’t sure how to answer.

“You have to be truthful,” Valeera continued, licking her lips and congratulating herself on how
firm she sounded. “No half-answers. I gave you yours, now give me mine.”

Liadrin cleared her throat and shook her head as she fiddled almost nervously with her now-
useless cards. She knew she wouldn’t find salvation in the meaningless suits and numbers in her
hand, but she looked anyway.

“I don’t.”

“Bullshit,” Valeera spat, and Liadrin swallowed thickly.

“I’m not better than you,” Liadrin continued, shifting restlessly in her seat. “We’re just
different.”

“Better. That means better.” Valeera responded quietly. “That means you don’t think I belong
here or whatever it is that you believe. Like I didn’t earn my place or something. Or like I’m too
dirty. But sometimes I look at you, and I think you might be, too. I think you might not be so
perfect, after all. So I just want to know why. I just...I need to know what makes you so good.”
Liadrin felt sick as she leaned back in her chair, yet her eyes were steeled and hard as she
reflected Valeera’s accusatory gaze with little else aside from detachment. She hated what she
saw. The desperation. The slightly wild look behind the thinly-veiled pain Valeera no doubt
thought she was hiding.

She hated it for so many reasons.

“I think we’ve had too much to drink,” Liadrin responded quietly. Calmly. “Don’t you?”

Valeera swallowed past the faint ache in her throat and dropped her eyes immediately before she
glanced at the nearly-empty bottle on the table.

“Alright,” She whispered, slipping the cork back into its place and pushing herself up from her
chair on feet that were far too steady to indicate drunkenness. “You’re right. As per usual.”

The cabinet door slammed shut sharply but Liadrin didn’t allow herself to flinch as she stood
from the table and retreated slowly to the darker parts of the living room to a couch that didn’t
look inviting so much as it looked...away. Away from whatever had just happened. Her own
head was swimming a bit as she slid down into the cushions and leaned back into them. She
wasn’t much of a drinker.

Valeera realized that much for the first time when she saw the way Liadrin was moving. Like her
body was too much for her to control like this.

Silently, she poured a glass of water from a decanter in a cabinet that she shut much more gently
this time. A glass she carried carefully towards the couch and held out in Liadrin’s direction.

“Are you okay?”

Liadrin reached for the glass and nearly missed, and Valeera made a sound in the back of her
throat that was lost on her before she helped her lift it to her lips.

“Guess not,” Valeera muttered as Liadrin downed a good half of the glass. When she seemed
done, Valeera sat the glass to the side and stood there over Liadrin as the other woman looked up
at her. “You didn’t have to keep up with me. Hits hard when you’ve got that much body for it to
sink into when you finally stand up.”

“I’m fine.” Liadrin managed.

“Sure,” Valeera offered graciously. “Just sit for a while. I’ll...I don’t know. Just-”

Valeera stopped speaking when she realized Liadrin’s eyes had slipped shut. She watched her for
a while. Mostly because she never got the opportunity. A little because she liked to watch
people. To study them.

She’d never have noticed the barely-visible lines beside Liadrin’s eyes, otherwise. Maybe it was
the softness of the candlelight, too. It seemed like Liadrin was always surrounded by so much
light. Valeera knew it wasn’t vanity. She wondered, though, what it was.

But their game was over.

Valeera sighed and retreated to straighten their mess.

“How many more, Anasterian? How many more must be orphaned for you to be moved?”
Lireesa’s voice was hoarse with anger and her grip around Liadrin’s upper arm was far too tight
a grip for one so young and gangly, yet the girl didn't balk. She was far too gone for minor
discomfort to edge its way past the haze of shock that had come over her.

There was blood still cooling on Liadrin’s skin in the night air as Anasterian looked from her to
Lireesa and back again. Her parents’ or her own, she couldn't be sure. Neither could he.

“When?” Anasterian asked as Lireesa’s eyes burned accusations into him even through the
flames of the fire that flickered between them.

“When?” Lireesa asked, letting out a shuddering breath as she slowly pulled Liadrin close to
herself. In the next moment, her cloak was unclasped and draped around the girl’s body -
making her seem even smaller than she already was. “Tonight, my King. Tonight, across the
river. Not a stone’s throw from here.”

“What attacked them?” Anasterian asked, finally pushing himself up from the thick, cushioned
fur he'd been sitting on and emerging from the makeshift tent he'd taken up residence in. “Are
we in danger?”

“Whatever attacked them is gone,” Lireesa responded as she reached to press Liadrin’s head
into her chest with one of her hands clasped tightly over the ear this left exposed. “And her
family is in pieces. This was not an attack of hunger. She was left to be found. Do you
understand, yet, that we are always in danger? Or are you so stuck in your ways and in your
ideals that this is how you prefer it?”

Lireesa's hand slipped down, then, and found its way to Liadrin’s back. She kept her close, now.
Within her circle of warmth and perceived strength.

Anasterian looked away and shook his head.

“Your answer is not the answer,” he said quietly. “You can leave her here, and-”

“I will do no such thing. You failed her once. I won't allow it again.” Lireesa’s tone was sharp
as steel and Anasterian looked at her warily as he drew his own fur-lined cloak tighter around
himself.

“What is one more mouth to feed?” Lireesa continued bitterly. “I have been feeding the first one
on my own for a decade, now, after all.”

Anasterian winced visibly at this reminder. This reminder that Lireesa was no more a stranger to
loss than the bloodied girl she'd brought to him that night.

He looked away, and Lireesa left him with his cowardice.

Liadrin shivered against the cold despite the small fire Lireesa had lit. It would be safe to have
one tonight, so soon after an attack. The message had been sent. A little smoke from the canopy
would make little difference.

“Will you eat?” Lireesa asked as the flames cast light and shadows against her face that made
her look quite strange to Liadrin.

Liadrin was just attempting to form an answer when a branch broke outside their tent and she
nearly halved herself in size when she curled up and hid her face in the cloak she was still
wrapped in.

She was still curled that way when Lireesa moved around the fire to get closer to her.

“You are safe here with me,” Lireesa’s voice was as gentle as her palms were rough when she
reached out to smooth Liadrin’s hair. “Look.”

Liadrin lifted her head slowly as she was told to, because if an elven child knew anything, it was
to listen to one’s elders at all costs. And Lireesa was the elder of nearly everyone.

Her eyes went wide as Lireesa held out her palm only for a small blue ball of light to appear just
above it - floating there warmly and happily.

So cheerful, for something so expressly forbidden. So oddly comforting.

“They fear it, you know,” Lireesa murmured as she kept stroking over Liadrin’s head with her
free hand while she drew the ball of light in closer and left it hovering just in front of Liadrin’s
face. “This is for you.”

“Is it dangerous?” Liadrin asked quietly, her voice coming out in a croak.

“No, little one,” Lireesa cooed with a soft smile. She looked over her shoulder and across the
fire at the wild mess of blond hair belonging to her sleeping daughter. “Alleria only just stopped
using her own.”

Liadrin took in a slow breath and gradually reached out towards the little light. She found it
warm to the touch and pleasantly tingly against her fingertips. But it didn't hurt her. She found
she liked the way it made her feel, and it seemed strangely drawn to her, too.

“I can keep it?” Liadrin asked hopefully, her ears lifting slightly for the first time.

Lireesa chuckled warmly and fixed her cloak back around Liadrin’s small frame now that she’d
relaxed again. “I will make you a new one each night until you no longer pay so much heed to
what is beyond its light.”

Liadrin looked into the glow of her little light as Lireesa sat with her, brushing through her hair
while the warmth from their little fire finished drying it.
Even as hard as Lireesa had tried to get her clean, the smell of blood still stung her nose each
time she breathed in.

“You should probably wake up.”

Liadrin jerked sharply on the sofa she’d been dozing on in response to the sound of Valeera’s
voice, and she clutched her hands into fists quickly when she realized they were trembling
before she’d even cleared her vision.

“I’m awake,” Liadrin mumbled, looking around the room to avoid the sharp, knowing eyes she
could still feel boring holes into her.

“I’m beginning to think everyone in this kingdom has nightmares,” Valeera mused lazily as she
reached towards the table she was still sitting at and grabbed herself another sliver of dried meat.
She was still working at it with her teeth when she approached the sofa and plopped down on the
edge of it next to Liadrin.

“I don’t think that’s true. There are many fortunate ones,” Liadrin responded quietly, lifting her
glass of water from the end table beside the couch to wet her painfully dry mouth. “How do you
know I was having a nightmare?”

“You were scared,” Valeera responded simply, following the statement with a shrug. “Even if it
hadn’t been for your breathing, I’d be a piss poor spy if I couldn’t sense fear.”

Liadrin placed the glass down perhaps a little too firmly and Valeera cut her eyes to watch the
way her jaw worked when she leaned forward and clasped both of her hands between her knees.

“Nothing witty to say, then?” Liadrin asked with a faint flick of her ear. A flick Valeera watched
intently.

“I don’t find anything entertaining about the idea of you suffering. You are not my favorite
person, before you get any ideas. Nor are you someone I would like to see hurt.”

“Am I not?” Liadrin asked after letting out a slow breath to steady herself. “I thought we’d only
just bonded.”

“You bonded, perhaps,” Valeera responded, her tone non-committal and unaffected. “Or maybe
it was the alcohol. Do headaches generally cause you to remember moments more fondly?”

Liadrin huffed and squeezed her eyes shut, and didn’t open them again until she felt a gentle
touch against her hand that she looked down towards.

“For your head,” Valeera said quietly as she placed a little powder packet into Liadrin’s now-
upturned palm. “You still have water?”

“Yes,” Liadrin breathed, thankful for the sudden change in Valeera’s demeanor. “Thank you.”
“I don’t think my little friend likes it when I have company,” Valeera said once Liadrin had
gotten her medicine down.

“Then I can come, again,” Liadrin offered without hesitating, and Valeera leaned backward
against the couch with a shake of her head as she turned her attention toward the ceiling.

“So that I can get you drunk and badger you some more? Maybe the darkness I see in you is just
run-of-the-mill masochism.”

“Is that often considered a run-of-the-mill thing?” Liadrin asked dryly.

“It generally comes attached to certain connotations, but it’s not as-”

Valeera trailed off when she rolled her head to the side to catch Liadrin smiling at her so gently
her words left her, entirely.

“Bitch,” Valeera gasped, but she was smiling, too, in spite of herself.

“I’m not better than you,” Liadrin said suddenly, her smile fading as she held her empty glass in
her lap and regarded Valeera carefully. “I’m not better than anyone.”

“You don’t have to say that.” Valeera breathed like it was a way out. Because she suddenly cared
very much about providing that. “I don’t need you to say that.”

Liadrin put her glass down slowly and turned just enough so that it was easier to look into
Valeera’s eyes. “I didn’t say it because you need it. I said it because it’s true.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Valeera said, and the earnestness in her voice made Liadrin’s chest ache.
“Please.”

“I won’t,” Liadrin said, and it sounded like a promise and like nails down a slate board all at
once against Valeera’s ears. “You didn’t like that.”

Valeera exhaled sharply and leaned forward so they were closer, though she wasn’t entirely
certain why.

“I don’t...it doesn’t matter if I liked it,” Valeera stayed utterly still in the eternity between the
moment those words left her lips and the moment the hand she’d been watching from the corner
of her eye reached her face. Touched her jaw. Turned her head slowly. So fucking slowly.

“What do you like, Valeera,” Liadrin murmured as her thumb grazed the skin of Valeera’s cheek
just beside the corner of her mouth.

“I’m not picky,” Valeera whispered as she leaned in and savored the feeling of Liadrin’s hand
slipping around to the back of her neck.

“Tell me what you see when you look at me,” Liadrin murmured, and Valeera nearly shuddered
at the feeling of warm breath against her lips as she looked into Liadrin’s eyes. The light in them
was almost unbearable from so near. It softened suddenly and without warning, as Liadrin
lowered her eyelids and stroked behind Valeera’s ear with her thumb.
“You,” Valeera whispered as she observed more than she might ever have thought she would.
The darkness beneath her eyes. Those smile lines, a little closer now. So rarely used where they
dwelled beside her eyes that they might have gone unnoticed by anyone else.

“Are you sure about that? Are you certain you see me?” Liadrin asked, and Valeera swallowed a
sound as it nearly escaped her lips in response to Liadrin’s hand slipping to the front of her neck.
Grazing her throat. Lingering there and then coming to rest warmly against her chest.

“Yes.”

“Come closer, then, because I can’t stand this anymore. I’m going mad. If you ever meant it at
all-”

“I meant it,” Valeera hushed her quickly, her words a near-hiss in their surety. “I’ve always
meant it.”

“I know,” Liadrin admitted, and if those words stung - the pain was softened by Liadrin’s lips
against her cheek. “I’m sorry. I know.”

Valeera finally shut her eyes when the burning warmth of Liadrin’s mouth finally reached her
own. She pressed into it too hard and she knew it, yet Liadrin didn’t pull back when their teeth
met. Instead, she parted her lips for Valeera and accepted her with just as much bruising force as
her hand closed so softly around Valeera’s throat that she couldn’t even begin to suppress the
whimper that broke from it.

It left just as quickly, but only because Valeera was moving to straddle her lap and tug her shirt
free from her breeches in short order.

Liadrin gasped hard against Valeera’s mouth when Valeera’s hands found her bare chest and
touched over the softness of her breasts and then the hard lines of muscle down her abdomen.
She didn’t linger when her fingertips grazed smooth, old scars far more numerous than she could
have known. She touched those places just the same, and Liadrin’s nails dug into her thighs hard
through her pants as Valeera’s mouth left her own to find the side of her neck.

Valeera wasn’t a shy person. She especially wasn’t shy, however, when Liadrin tilted her head to
the side in a silent plea. Not with her lips. Not with her tongue. Nor her fangs.

“You like that?” Valeera’s voice was almost a purr against already-bruising skin, cooling now as
it glistened just beneath Valeera’s mouth.

She could’ve sworn she heard the faintest hint of a growl in Liadrin’s chest in response. A sound
that only drove her onward. Had her leaving a darker mark. One that left Liadrin gasping and
fumbling with the afore-mentioned laces between Valeera’s thighs.

“Here,” Valeera murmured beneath Liadrin’s jaw - hot and breathless as she reached down and
tugged the laces open roughly only to guide Liadrin’s hand down into what little space she’d
created for it. “Whatever you want. Whatever you want, Liadrin.”

Liadrin found Valeera’s hair and gathered it at the back of her head to pull her up as she pressed
her hand further down - taking only a moment to gather some of Valeera’s ample wetness
against her fingertips before she pressed them into her slowly, but so deeply that it didn’t matter.
Valeera’s lips parted and she drew in a breath at the sting. At the stretch and the fullness that
followed that had her hips rising and falling restlessly.

“I just want you,” Liadrin gasped as Valeera tightened around her.

Valeera was glad she managed to wrench a moan from the sob that broke from her throat as
Liadrin curled her fingers, and Liadrin was gracious enough to pull her back down into her lap
as she pressed the heel of her palm upward to give Valeera something to grind against.

Her hips never stopped moving, and no more words passed between them. The words had
already been too much. There were only bruising touches and ragged breaths and stinging,
exquisite bites as Liadrin urged Valeera with everything in her to an orgasm that had tears
burning in her eyes.

Valeera hadn’t even begun to recover when she slipped one of her knees between Liadrin’s
thighs. She hadn’t even dragged a full lungful of air past her lips when Liadrin shuddered hard
and pressed her onto her back along the sofa, still working her hips hard against the solid
pressure Valeera had offered her.

Valeera’s hands found her back then. Her nails left marks along the skin there as it shifted over
the painfully tense muscle she found there.

She might have insisted she do more with anyone else. She might have cared, even for a single
moment, about what else she wanted out of this.

But all she wanted was this. The utterly unhinged way in which Liadrin was holding her down
as she let out a shuddering groan against Valeera’s shoulder when her orgasm hit her hard.
Knocked the wind from her. Left her trembling and weak and boneless over Valeera’s body.

It took Valeera a moment or two to remove her nails from Liadrin’s skin and remember that she
should stroke over them in an attempt to soothe.

She was still staring up at the ceiling processing her own shock-ridden pleasure when Liadrin
spoke.

“Am I too heavy?”

“No,” Valeera whispered. “Is your head okay?”

She wondered if that’s what she should say. If that’s what she should be worried about as she
traced lines through the faint shimmer of sweat across Liadrin’s broad shoulders.

A hundred things she’d never bothered to wonder before. All running rampant through her wild
muddle of thoughts.

“I’ve had worse headaches,” Liadrin said quietly against Valeera’s chest in the midst of lifting
her head and, subsequently, herself from on top of her. She didn’t move away entirely, though.
She stayed there when Valeera draped a leg across her lap.

It was difficult for Valeera, now, not to let her eyes wander as Liadrin touched lazily along her
thigh and leaned back into the couch.
“You’ve got more than me,” She finally whispered - lifting a hand to touch slowly along a scar
that spanned most of Liadrin’s ribs along her side.

Liadrin nodded silently and reached for Valeera’s hand to take it away.

When it became clear that she didn’t know what to do with it, Valeera removed it entirely and
clasped both of her hands together over her own stomach.

“You can go, you know,” She said, but when she moved her leg, Liadrin stopped her and kept it
against her lap.

“I’ll go in the morning,” Liadrin said, and Valeera bit her lower lip to sharpen the discomfort of
how dry it was. Into something more present and manageable. Something to distract.

“All right.”

Liadrin nodded and began to turn her head, but her eyes stopped before they sought any contact.

Valeera reached down and touched along Liadrin’s forearm lightly.

“You don’t have to look at me. We just need to be able to work together.”

“I can come back tomorrow night,” Liadrin said suddenly, and Valeera paused to allow what
she’d said to translate into something that might make sense. It never did.

“You...I’m not-”

“Can I come back tomorrow night?” Liadrin said, a little more insistently.

“Yes,” Valeera responded, because what else was there to say? Nothing that she was inclined to
say, at least.

She sat up, and Liadrin let her, this time. She took a moment to gather a blanket thrown over the
back of the sofa so she could press it into Liadrin’s arms.

“I didn’t intend to mark you so badly,” Valeera said as she examined the side of Liadrin’s neck.
“I’ve got potions.”

“Leave it,” Liadrin offered, and some measure of softness had returned to her voice. “If I didn’t
want it there, it wouldn’t be there.”

“Alright.”

There was a pause then that stretched far too long. Long enough that Liadrin finally turned her
head and reached up to fix some of the mess she’d made of Valeera’s hair. That had been her
intent, anyway. Until her hand fell to Valeera’s face, instead, and then away, entirely.

“You can have my bed,” Valeera offered in the utter absence of space between them as though
nothing had happened. “I’ll sleep when you go.”

“I’m fine out here if that’s alright,” Liadrin said, and she leaned back in the same moment
Valeera stood from the sofa with a nod.
Valeera could feel Liadrin’s eyes on her as she strolled across the room for more water, and she
wanted them there. She’d wanted them there for so long.

Eventually, Valeera returned the attention - watching as Liadrin spread herself out along the sofa
and pulled the blanket over her half-nude body.

“Perhaps we should try wine tomorrow, instead,” Valeera offered, and Liadrin didn’t quite
manage to hide her smirk as she turned onto her side facing the back of the couch.

The responding ‘perhaps’ was muffled, but it eased some of the discomfort that had settled so
heavily over Valeera. She felt a touch more centered as she exhaled through her nose and closed
her cabinet once she’d had her fill of water - after she’d checked, first, that she even had any
wine that Liadrin might find acceptable.
 To Be Seen

Alleria despised this. She despised the flawless marble and the blue-washed colors that cascaded
against her skin and her dark leathers as she stalked down the hallways towards the queen’s
chambers in the moonlight.

She preferred the way the sun dappled her skin through the leaves of trees. Hell, she preferred
the way the briars sometimes caught in her skin to the feeling of silk against it. She felt a
hundred times more trapped in these halls than she’d felt in any thicket in Quel’Thalas.

And when an old familiar feeling crept up her spine, the heaviness of this place doubled over on
her two-fold.

“Lady Alleria. How nice to see you. And walking upright on two legs, no less,” Dar'khan's voice
slithered past his lips on its way to Alleria’s sensitive ears, and she turned slowly to face him
with a hand on one of her sabers. Sharp. Deadly. Not embellished with any symbol of her status,
nor gilded with any sign of her family’s wealth.

No, the weapons she carried were meant to be used.

“And that’s supposed to mean what, exactly, Drathir?” Alleria asked cooly, her expression
impassive.
“Oh, nothing,” Dar’khan smiled. A young woman might find his smile attractive. “On your way
to see your...mother, then?”

Alleria didn’t bother to hide her distaste of it.

“My business is none of yours, Drathir. It’s late. You should be in whatever hole you slithered
out of by now, shouldn’t you?”

“Everyone’s business is my business. Or had you forgotten that? I’m the Queen’s Scryer, after
all.”

“And did you see me coming?” Alleria asked with a half-smile. There was a challenge in her
eyes. A cockiness in the cant of her ears.

Dar’khan’s jaw clenched. “As a matter of fact, I saw you just until you hit the edge of the city.
You’ll have to tell me how you manage that one of these days.”

“I owe you none of my secrets, Drathir,” Alleria said quietly, running her thumb across the tip of
the pommel she’d been resting her hand over. “I owe you nothing. You forget your place.
Regularly.”

Dar’khan almost let his mask slip. It was a very near thing. Especially in the presence of
someone who had never bothered with one.

“Well,” Dar’khan renewed his smile. “Then I’ll be sure to remember it, now.”

“Do that, then,” Alleria managed in an even tone, turning away from him dismissively and
stopping in her tracks when she heard Dar’khan take a step in her direction.

“Alleria, before you go-”

“What, Dar’khan?” Alleria asked as she looked at him over her shoulder.

“Has anyone ever told you you have your mother’s eyes?”

Alleria stared at him for a moment. Measured her breaths as carefully as she might have if she’d
been lining up a perfect shot. She stared at him with eyes even bluer than her sisters’. Eyes made
of calm ocean on a summer day instead of freshly sharpened steel.

“Know this, Dar’khan. I am not my sister,” Alleria finally breathed, exhaling as she spoke. “And
I will remove yours from your skull along with your silvered, forked tongue and feel no guilt.
Know this, and remember it.”

Dar’khan faltered just long enough for Alleria to notice.

He tsk’d as he turned and began to stalk back down the hallway away from Lireesa’s rooms.

Alleria watched him go all the while. She didn’t start back on her journey until he disappeared
around a corner. Even then, she listened to his footsteps.

She wasn’t here to see her mother at all. In fact, she passed the queen’s chambers, entirely. She
completed a lap around the palace in its entirety until she finally arrived at the healers’ quarters
and opened the door to the darkened room quietly and carefully.

Alleria had never needed light to see. She didn’t spend enough time in the city to adapt to it. It
wasn’t difficult to make out Verana’s form in the darkness of the room, nor was it difficult for
Verana to make out her own as she turned her attention to Alleria.

“You came.”

Verana’s voice was low and raspy. Tired.

“Of course, I came,” Alleria said softly as she made her way to Verana’s bedside and lowered
herself to her knees next to her.

Within an instant, Verana had both Alleria’s hands clutched against her bandaged stomach.

“Your wounds,” Alleria whispered against Verana’s temple.

“Mending,” Verana responded, and she pressed a smile against Alleria’s lips that turned into a
soft, lingering kiss. “And the border?”

“Secure,” Alleria said without hesitation. “You did well. But I should’ve been there.”

“Alleria, you are not broad-shouldered enough to carry the protection of the entire kingdom on
your back. You know this.”

Alleria swallowed thickly and nodded. Of course, she knew this. Of course, she understood.
That didn’t save her from feeling otherwise.

“We shouldn’t discuss this here,” Alleria said once she was confident she’d be able to.
“Dar’khan is near enough. And you should be focusing on your recovery. I need you with me.”

“You don’t need me,” Verana corrected with a chuckle. “You simply want me.” She softened her
chiding with a soft kiss. One that Alleria returned just as gently.

“Perhaps,” Alleria conceded into the darkness of the room.

“You have plenty of women to keep you company while I recover,” Verana said, though she
reached up to stroke slowly along Alleria’s cheek. Along the tattoo there that once glowed softly
with magic, but was no less beautiful, now. “Isn’t that right?”

“Mm, yeah. A few. But who will complain about the way I cook oats if not you?” Alleria asked
with a little smirk playing at her lips.

Verana gave her a gentle shove. “Go. I’ll be back on my feet in a week’s time and I’ll be telling
you they’re burned before you know it. Will you see Lireesa before you leave the city?”

Alleria’s face fell, as did her eyes, and Verana tightened the hold she hand on Alleria’s hands
gently.

“You don’t have to,” Verana murmured. “You can slip away just as you slipped in.”
“I should see her,” Alleria said with a furrow between her brows, and she let out a soft breath
before she leaned forward to press her lips against Verana’s forehead. “Be better soon. Be by my
side, again.”

“It’s where I belong,” Verana whispered as she tilted her chin and brushed a kiss to Alleria’s lips.
“I would rather be nowhere else.”

“So domestic,” Alleria chided as she pulled away from the kiss slowly and met Verana’s gaze.
“I’ll see you soon.”

“Thank you for coming,” Verana murmured after a breathy, only slightly pained laugh.

Alleria hummed a response in her throat and slipped from the room as quietly as she’d come.

She took a different path to the queen’s chambers. Even as infrequently as she visited here, she
knew these pathways well. The ones that would bring her to her mother without a single set of
eyes falling upon her. Secret ways that few people knew. It was Lireesa’s back parlor door she
finally wound up knocking upon softly.

Lireesa was awake despite the late hour. She was almost always awake. Alleria knew better than
anyone else how little Lireesa slept. It’d been this way since she was a child.

Alleria didn’t bother to offer her a smile when she found the parlor door being opened for her.
She slipped inside much like the moonlight from the courtyard.

“Alleria,” Lireesa greeted - shutting the door behind her and turning to look at her curiously. “I
wasn’t expecting you.”

“Verana is in the healers’ quarters. I needed to check after her,” Alleria explained simply,
looking around the parlor and all its fine trimmings before she turned her attention back to
Lireesa. “Your dog has my scent again. Why?”

Lireesa exhaled through her nose and shook her head. “I couldn’t answer that if I wanted to. He
follows whims he ought not to follow. I’ll speak to him.”

“Don’t.”

Alleria’s tone was no-nonsense and short as she ran her gloved fingertips along the back of a
chair they both knew she wouldn’t sit in. “Let him think what he will. Let him do what he will. I
will bring him to heel myself if the need arises.”

Lireesa looked at Alleria for a moment before she took a seat, herself. It wouldn’t do to enter a
staring contest. Their eyes would wither and fall from their sockets before either of them gave
in.

“Do you find it odd he didn’t inform you of my visit?” Alleria asked, reaching for the decanter
of wine on the table Lireesa was now sitting at and examining it for a moment before she placed
it back down. She’d never been a fan of court wine. Too sweet. Too mana-laden. “I do.”

Lireesa’s jaw clenched and her high cheekbones caused her face to hollow as she lifted a hand to
illuminate the parlor in mage light, but only dimly. “You are being coy and clever for no reason,
Alleria. It doesn’t become you.”

“Mm. You’re right,” Alleria didn’t seem bothered by their shared observation. “Anyway, how is
the girl? Has she begun her learning? Will she be under the dog’s tutelage?”

“Alleria-”

“Has the Sunwell responded to her?” Alleria continued, and there was an edge of sharpness in
her tone. “Has anything?”

Alleria’s eyes flashed up in response to the sudden brightening of the glow in Lireesa’s. Her own
jaw set, then. She took a mental step back.

So did Lireesa.

“She’ll begin soon. And then I will have answers for you should you come looking for them
again. Was there a confrontation at the border? I wasn’t informed.”

“We were following tracks. They split. Verana followed them past the border and discovered an
old trap, still armed. With her body, as it were,” Alleria swallowed thickly.

Lireesa noticed, of course, and her brow furrowed for a moment. “You are fond of her.”

“Perhaps,” Alleria said thoughtfully. “She is unrivaled in tracking, even by me. We can’t afford
to lose her, now.”

“Right. The tracks. If there were some sort of concern - some new threat - I would think you
might send word,” Lireesa watched as Alleria moved away from the table towards the doors to
peer out into the courtyard. Always moving. Never still. Not for long.

“I don’t think the threat is new. I think it’s been there always. Something I remember from long
ago. The only difference is the boldness.”

“What, then?” Lireesa asked, and Alleria looked out through the doors for a while longer before
she finally moved back towards her and reached into one of the pouches hanging at her belt. She
produced something that weighed heavily in her hand until the moment she placed it on the table
in front of Lireesa.

Funny how something so small as a dark tuft of bear fur could feel so heavy. Like lead in her
hand. Like it would break right through the table and the floor beneath it when she placed it
down.

But it didn’t. It sat there under Lireesa’s measuring gaze, and Lireesa reached for it - spreading
the strands out and feeling of them.

“A remnant,” Lireesa said as she pulled her hand away. “Nothing of note. I’m sure we missed
enough of them that they might have survived beyond the stones.”

“You believe your own words,” Alleria whispered as she removed the tuft and stowed it away. It
wouldn’t do to leave it to be seen by any of the few sets of eyes that might recognize it. “And
not my eyes.”
“I have no choice, Alleria. I have no choice in the matter. I can send more people to the borders
if that will help you. If that will help you chase your ghosts. Your bumps in the night.” Lireesa’s
tone was cold, yet the chill of it only grazed over Alleria’s skin. Skin like armor. Scarred and
sun-kissed and warm and smelling strongly of the forests.

Alleria let out a shuddering breath and rolled her shoulders as she turned away from Lireesa
quickly to compose herself.

“Your temper,” Lireesa said softly. “Getting the better of you, as always.”

“And your utter lack of one betraying you,” Alleria responded quickly, and the heels of her
leather boots made sharp contact against the marble floors as she stalked across the room to land
on a couch far enough away from Lireesa that Lireesa wouldn’t feel her frustration so easily.
“As always.”

“Meaning?” Lireesa asked with a sharpening of her eyes and a tilt of her head.

“You forget that I see you,” Alleria responded quietly - and finally, there was emotion in her
voice. Too muddled to be made sense of, but there, nonetheless. “When no one else does.”

“You see me so rarely I wouldn’t know,” Lireesa countered with a lift of her brow.

Alleria stared at her.

And stared.

Until a smile broke out across her face and she barked out a laugh that was quickly followed by
a very faint quirk of Lireesa’s lips.

“You wild, infuriating thing,” Lireesa chided slyly. “Always stoking the fire.”

“I’ve no fear of your coals, old woman,” Alleria countered.

“Don’t you dare posture at me, child,” Lireesa warned, and Alleria snorted quietly.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Alleria responded. “Posturing in this court might land me somewhere I would
rather not be.”

“Mm, all too true. Perhaps we should ask after one of the humans’ other children, hm?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Alleria scoffed as she glanced up from where she was cleaning her nails
with the tip of a boot knife that was far too sharp and far too deadly for so benign a task. “You
wouldn’t dare.”

“You would scare any human half to death if you had more than five minutes’ time in their
presence.”

“Untrue. Lady Wife isn’t scared of me in the least,” Alleria countered as she examined her hand
before sliding her knife back where it went and pulling her glove back on.

“Jaina,” Lireesa corrected. “Her name is Jaina. And you conducted yourself...adequately in her
presence.”
“How generous,” Alleria remarked dryly. “I did my best.”

“You’re losing your edge,” Lireesa countered. “You must be anxious to leave.”

“You know me too well,” Alleria conceded as she pushed herself up from the sofa and adjusted
her belt.

She made it all the way to the door before she stopped. Her hesitation caught Lireesa’s waning
attention immediately.

“Do you know what he said to me?” Alleria asked with her hand on the glass of the door,
uncaring of the smudges her gloves left there.

“What?” Lireesa asked warily.

More hesitation.

So unusual.

Alleria looked down at her own boots and sat with her thoughts for a moment.

“It doesn’t matter,” She breathed with a shake of her head. “I need to leave.”

“I know you do,” Lireesa murmured, watching the way Alleria’s hand flexed against her own
thigh. “Go, then. You belong out there, and I, here.”

Alleria licked her lips and took a last look at Lireesa. Such a departure from the woman who had
raised her. From the wild, free, boundlessly powerful woman who had raised her in the wilds
and been just as wild herself.

“There was a time I might not have believed those words had you said them to me,” Alleria said
as her ears shifted subtly in the slits of the hood that hid most of her wild mane of hair.

“Do you find comfort in their truth now, then?” Lireesa asked curiously, looking every bit the
queen in her black gown with her hair pulled back just so. Parted in the middle. Hanging down
against her pale shoulders in inky waves. For the first time, Alleria wondered if she might burn
in the sun.

Alleria licked her lips when she realized, suddenly, that they were dry. “I don’t need comfort.”

“I’m aware,” Lireesa said. “Have you seen your sisters?”

“They’ll be sleeping,” Alleria explained, already pushing the door open. “Another time.”

Lireesa offered a nod of understanding and watched her go.

Her thoughts drifted, then. To Vereesa. No doubt tired from her studies and fast asleep across the
hall from Lireesa’s rooms.

To Sylvanas.

Sylvanas.
Everything Alleria could never be. Everything Lireesa needed her to be.

Lireesa’s eyes shut for a moment when she became aware that she, herself, was tired. She shut
the thick volume she’d been reading - hiding the dry, arcane text from her own eyes and
resetting her barrier enchantment on it with a brush of her fingertips.

Her fatigue deepened.

Jaina smiled at the sight of Sylvanas in her doorway. At the now-familiar sight of a glass of wine
in each of her hands. At the clear fondness in Sylvanas’s eyes where, such a short time ago, there
had only been curiosity and a vague sense of worry.

“You’re awake,” Sylvanas observed quietly, as though it were any surprise.

Truth be told, Jaina could have slept that night.

She just liked this. The company. She liked Sylvanas’s company. The intimacy of sharing this
room with her, even if only for a glass of wine.

“I am,” Jaina said, her voice soft with amusement at both herself and Sylvanas. “I’ll have the
wine, thank you. Red.”

“Of course, My Lady. Your wish is my command.”

Sylvanas was on the edge of Jaina’s bed soon - glass in hand. Jaina’s newest favorite book was
now lying beside her on the end table. They drank their sweet, late-night treat in silence for a
while, as they often did. There was warmth in this shared company. There was warmth, now,
that they both recognized.

“What is this?” Jaina asked quietly after a while, and she reached out to touch Sylvanas’s wrist
where there was a rather old-looking scar. Only just visible.

“A scar,” Sylvanas teased with a little half-grin.

“Oh, is it? I wasn’t sure,” Jaina lifted a brow at Sylvanas, and Sylvanas glanced down at where
Jaina was still touching over the shock of white against otherwise tanned skin. She moved her
arm towards Jaina and rested her hand near her with her palm facing up. She hadn’t meant to
sigh when Jaina’s fingertips traced down along her lifeline towards her fingertips.

“When I was learning to shoot a bow,” Sylvanas began quietly, and Jaina wrapped her hand
carefully around Sylvanas’s wrist to trace her thumb along the prominent bone on the side of it.
“The draw was just heavy enough and I wasn’t wearing gloves. I didn’t have the best hand
strength yet, and my finger slipped from the string. It left a gash there when I lost the bow.”

“Your hands seem strong now,” Jaina observed, and Sylvanas let out a soft breath through her
nose.
“Do they?” She asked, and Jaina nodded as she slipped her own lower to twine their fingers
together.

“And gentle,” Jaina continued, and Sylvanas’s face reddened as she looked away.

“Do I embarrass you?” Jaina asked. “I don’t mean to.”

“Not at all,” Sylvanas said quickly. “I just...well. No. No, you don’t.”

“You’re blushing,” Jaina pressed, rather bravely. “You’re my wife and I can’t compliment you
without you blushing.”

“Believe it or not, it’s been a great many years since I blushed,” Sylvanas said wryly, turning
where she sat when Jaina gave her hand a faint tug.

“I think I would sleep better if you stayed,” Jaina said, and Sylvanas just looked at her for a
while as she tried to catch up.

“I don’t know that that’s...I-”

“I’m not asking you for anything other than company, you know,” Jaina said quietly to hide the
tremor of doubt she was feeling. “If you’re willing to offer that.”

“I can stay, then. Yes. If it would help you sleep.”

Jaina had been looking for hesitation, and the relief she felt came like a flood when she found
none.

It wasn’t the most natural thing - getting settled into bed next to Sylvanas. Despite the distance
between them beneath the blankets, it was strange to have her there.

Perhaps sensing this, Sylvanas turned on her side and looked over the pillows at Jaina wearing
that same smile she’d shown her in the doorway earlier. “So, is this really going to help you
sleep?”

“I’m not sure, yet,” Jaina admitted quietly, turning her head so she could better see Sylvanas. “It
feels like we’ve never been this close before.”

“That’s my fault, you know. For being away so often. I should be trying harder.”

“Trying harder in what way?” Jaina asked, and Sylvanas sighed quietly and then reached
beneath the sheets in search of Jaina’s hand.

Much to Jaina’s surprise, once Sylvanas was holding it in her own - she drew it to her lips to
press a soft kiss against her knuckles.

“In this way,” Sylvanas explained, because while she was getting better - her words still failed
her sometimes. Particularly in times like these.

“Oh,” Jaina breathed, wondering if her attempt at a smile had been at all successful. “That’s a
start, I suppose. But I do understand that you are busy. That isn’t your fault at all.”
“I’m going away for a week tomorrow. I came in here with the intention of telling you.”
Sylvanas said with a visible wince, but instead of pulling her hand away - Jaina only tightened
her hold.

Sylvanas sighed.

“I’m quite terrible at this, aren’t I?” She asked Jaina after a pause.

“At what?” Jaina asked - her voice full of earnestness. She just wanted to understand something.
Anything, really.

“Falling for someone, I suppose,” Sylvanas let out a rather helpless laugh, and shook her head as
she rolled onto her back and looked up at the vaulted ceiling above them.

She’d left Jaina rather shocked.

“Have you...have you never…?”

“I have,” Sylvanas said, but it sounded strained in a way that had Jaina aching to comfort her.

“You don’t have to answer me, you know,” Jaina said, and she moved just close enough that she
could stretch an arm out towards her. Towards the pale hair that cascaded against the blue silk of
the pillowcase it had fallen against. “Can I…”

“If you’d like.”

Jaina hesitated for a moment longer. Long enough to reassure herself that it seemed very much
like Sylvanas was masking a want with an offer.

The glow of Sylvanas’s eyes disappeared the moment Jaina’s fingertips first threaded into her
hair, and Sylvanas could do nothing to stop the shuddering sigh that escaped from deep within
her chest.

“You like this,” Jaina observed softly. Hopefully.

“It’s so nice.” Sylvanas breathed, and Jaina kept stroking slowly through her hair - carefully
avoiding her ears, though she was terribly tempted to touch them.

“I’ll miss you while you’re gone,” Jaina admitted. “Do you know it’s been so long since I’ve
been able to say that?”

Little slits of light appeared when Sylvanas opened them enough to look at her.

“How long?” Sylvanas asked, and she shifted her hand to the side until she was able to brush a
few soft blonde strands of hair from Jaina’s face.

“Since I was a young girl,” Jaina said, and then shook her head subtly. “That’s not entirely true. I
miss my father. That’s different, I think.”

“It is,” Sylvanas agreed with a sharp furrow of her brow. “I’m sorry.”

“These things happen,” Jaina offered, and Sylvanas nodded.

“I know they do,” she said, and let her hand fall to the pillow next to Jaina’s head. “I just find
the thought of them happening to you troubling.”

“You sounded troubled when I inquired as to your history of falling for people,” Jaina prompted
as she dared to graze Sylvanas’s temple with the pad of her thumb. “You don’t have to elaborate,
but...I would like to understand you better.”

“I was young,” Sylvanas explained quietly, and only then did she pause to think about her
words. “I still am. I didn’t realize why they wanted to be near me. Why they wanted to earn my
favor. I was naive to think it was love.”

“You weren’t naive to want love,” Jaina offered. “I’m no expert, true enough. But I have to
believe there is real love in the world. I have to believe two people could find it in one another.
And besides, I’ve no need to win your favor. It was won for us both, was it not? You are free to
fall head over heels for me at your earliest convenience.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, then,” Sylvanas said, sounding both impressed and a little more at ease
as she shut her eyes, again. “I truly do like you, Jaina. I have half a mind to miss you while I’m
gone as you will miss me.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Jaina said with a laugh that was as sleepy as her voice. “You should
rest if you have to go in the morning. You’re nearly gone, as it is.”

A soft hum of agreement and appreciation was the only response Jaina got. She wasn’t far
behind. Much like she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to tell someone she
would miss them, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so easy.

Right through a kiss to her cheek before dawn the next morning. Right through a hastily
scrawled note left on her bedside table.

Jaina -

I’ve decided that I will miss you.

-Sylvanas
 Lessons Learned

Pawns must leap into the fray

Two steps forward; Hip, Hooray;
Then until the war is done
They advance, one step by one
Moving only left and right
When the enemy’s in sight.
-Peter B. Payne

“How long will you be gone?” Jaina asked quietly. They’d been lingering near the door of their
rooms for a long while, now. Neither of them was all that inclined to part ways despite
Sylvanas’s usual obsession with punctuality. It was so early, still, that the birds weren’t even yet
singing in the courtyard outside.

“A week or two,” Sylvanas said just as softly as she reached out and took one of Jaina’s hands
into her own. “No more.”

“I’ll miss you,” Jaina responded emphatically. She was more comfortable with saying it this
morning than she had been the previous night. “I hope you know.”
Sylvanas’s brow furrowed as she nodded her understanding and watched Jaina twine their
fingers together. She gave Jaina’s hand a little squeeze and finally decided to give Jaina a little
tug closer to her.

She wrapped Jaina in her arms with such warmth and care Jaina began struggling to manage the
lump in her throat as she pressed her face into the crook of her wife’s neck.

“You smell so good,” Jaina breathed as she gathered some of Sylvanas’s cloak in her hands to
keep her as close as she could. “What will you be doing out there?”

“Checking up on the border,” Sylvanas explained. “Nothing serious.”

Jaina set her jaw as she finally pulled back and let out a breath. Her instinct was to reach out and
fix the clasp of Sylvanas’s cloak, and at least it gave her something to do with her hands, so
that’s what she did.

“I suppose I don’t quite understand why you have to be gone so much, but that might just be
because of my pre-conceived ideas of royal families, hm?”

“Probably so,” Sylvanas offered as she reached up to hold Jaina’s face gently in one of her
gloved palms. “But you’ll have company while I’m gone. You’ll like her.”

“Company?” Jaina asked, and Sylvanas sighed and nodded.

“Yes, she’s patiently waiting just outside the door. Tapping her boot just loudly enough for me to
hear and you to not.”

Sylvanas’s ears flicked when the tapping suddenly stopped, and she only smiled faintly and
leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Jaina’s cheek.

“I suppose introductions are in order,” Sylvanas murmured as she pulled back and ran the side of
her thumb over Jaina’s ear when she noticed it was flushed red. “Unless you would rather I send
her away until later. She’s only going to have breakfast with you this morning in my stead.”

“I’ll meet her now, then,” Jaina said quickly to focus on anything at all aside from the way
Sylvanas’s lips had felt against her skin.

“Good,” Sylvanas said, sounding relieved as she finally turned and opened the door.

“I was not tapping my foot specifically within your range of hearing,” The woman waiting
outside said as she stepped into the entryway and shut the door behind herself. “But it is good to
know that you’re as vain as you’ve always been.”

Sylvanas’s ears flattened and she narrowed her eyes as Jaina’s own widened. The moment
seemed so strangely tense until, suddenly, it wasn’t. The woman was laughing and patting
Sylvanas’s shoulder and quickly moving in Jaina’s direction in a flourish of movement that
ended in a bow and a taking of her hand.

“Lady Jaina,” she said. “Ranger Captain Areiel. Well. Retired. Areiel will suffice, however.”
Jaina bowed her head politely and offered Areiel a smile as she took her in now that she was a
bit more still. Her hair was lighter than Sylvanas’s. Nearly white. And she looked both ageless
and much older than her wife all at once, somehow. Elves were so confusing.

“I would’ve introduced you, you know,” Sylvanas grumbled good-naturedly as she slung the bag
that was lying by the door over her own shoulder and re-buckled her sword belt so it was a little
more secure. “I’ll let the two of you get acquainted. Thank you, Areiel.”

“Of course, Sylvanas. She’s lovely. This isn’t exactly a sacrifice.”

“Don’t flirt with my wife, please, Areiel,” Sylvanas warned as she paused with her hand on the
door.

Areiel shot her a little smirk. “Someone has to. And from what I heard outside the door, that
won’t be you this morning.”

Sylvanas smiled and blinked because she didn’t feel overly capable of much else in the face of
such open criticism, and Jaina cleared her throat as she brushed past Areiel and leaned in to
press a quick, familiar kiss to Sylvanas’s lips. Extremely familiar, considering they’d never
kissed before.

Sylvanas refused to look shocked as she pulled back and caught Jaina’s eyes with her own. She
refused.

“Safe travels, Sylvanas,” Jaina said softly with nothing but warmth in her tone and playfulness
in her smile. “I’m sure Areiel and I will be just fine.”

Sylvanas nodded and focused all her efforts in that moment upon actually moving away from
Jaina and leaving their rooms instead of just kicking Areiel out and working through whatever it
was that had just happened between her and her wife. Seeking more of it, maybe.

But Sylvanas was nothing if not dutiful and soon enough, Jaina was watching the retired captain
move across the room towards a sofa. She made herself right at home with a sigh and looked up
at Jaina with a knowing smile.

“That was so kind of you, Lady Jaina. To preserve your wife’s honor.” She drawled easily, and
Jaina couldn't help but note the ease with which she spoke Common. She had a speaking stone.
She must. And that must mean she was very important, indeed.

“I'm sorry, but I haven't the faintest idea what you mean,” Jaina could try. She could do at least
that much.

“I've never seen that child be so chaste,” Areiel offered as her attention slowly drifted from Jaina
towards the fireplace nearby. So unusual to see coal in it. In any of the fireplaces of the palace,
really. Save precious few that belonged to those that remembered the cold. For Jaina’s benefit
then, perhaps. “It's quite sweet, really.”

Jaina cleared her throat and tried to recover from the forwardness of their conversation with little
luck, so she decided a change of topic was in order.
“A Ranger. Is that different from those that are like Lady Liadrin?” She asked, suddenly finding
genuine curiosity far outweighing her slight embarrassment.

“Oh, the Esteemed High Knight of Clunkiness, Herself?” Areiel asked with a quirk of her brow
as her attention shot back over to rest on Jaina almost at once. “Quite different, indeed.”

Jaina stood there for a moment in Areiel’s measuring gaze before the woman finally reached
over and patted the couch next to herself. “Come sit, then. While we wait for our breakfast. I'm
quite shocked you haven't the faintest idea of the way our military works when you've wed its
leader.”

Jaina had been moving forward until that. Until those last few words that had her eyes going
wide and her brow furrowing sharply.

Areiel thought, perhaps, that might not have been a wise thing to divulge on Sylvanas’s behalf.
She didn't entertain the thought for long, though, and Jaina finally moved herself enough that
she took a seat next to her.

“I wasn't aware,” Jaina said quietly as she looked down at her own hands in her lap. “Perhaps
I'm not terribly observant.”

“Well, I don't think this has anything to do with your skills in observation. One would never
assume a person so young could be such a thing, and yet here we are.”

“A title, then?” Jaina asked. “Is she some sort of figurehead?”

Areiel frowned as she mulled that question over and picked at her nails. “At times, perhaps. Not
always.”

“She said she was simply going to check up on the border,” Jaina said quietly. “Is that untrue?”

“No,” Areiel said quickly. “No, Lady Jaina, I wouldn't worry much about dishonesty with her.
She's got that in spades compared to the rest of us. In any event, a Ranger is a fighter. Many of
us are older. Unsuited to life in the court and much more suited to the forests.”

“Alleria, then? Sylvanas’s oldest sister?”

“Exactly right. I wouldn't let her attend a court function for all of the gold in Quel’Thalas if there
were hard liquor present. Or...I take that back. I would. It would be hilarious.”

Areiel seemed so genuinely amused by the idea that Jaina couldn't help but smile. She seemed
so...free. So easy. Jaina could only assume she really was rather old. It was the kind of ease and
confidence one couldn't really feign. The kind that had to be earned.

“But you seem perfectly suited to the court. I mean...obviously not this conversation in
particular, but. I hope you know what I mean. I don't want to cause offense.”

“Oh, you'll never offend me, Lady Jaina. And truth be told, I've lived on the outskirts of the city
since my retirement. I provide various services to the queen and to the Rangers, themselves, and
that's about it. I'm no more fond of Royal dalliances than the next Ranger. I'm just better at
holding my tongue, believe it or not. Though, losing a leg humbled me a bit, I must say.
Mellowed me out, you know.”

“What?” Jaina asked, trying to filter any shock out of her voice. “A leg?”

Areiel rapped her knuckles against her thigh, and Jaina was shocked to hear the sound of metal
muffled by breeches.

“Can you not feel the magic of it? I had heard that you show quite some promise as a mage.”

“I just assumed you had...well. Magic of your own. It's in your leg?” Jaina was throwing caution
to the wind, and she knew it. She just couldn't stop herself.

Before she could even question herself, Areiel was rolling her pant leg up to reveal perhaps one
of the most intriguing sights Jaina had seen since her arrival. Her intrigue only doubled when
Areiel lifted her knee and then flexed her leg. It performed exactly as any ordinary leg might,
and Jaina’s mouth was agape as a result. Not only that, but the craftsmanship was unparalleled.
From the microscopic runes that flowed along its seams to the silver and gold of its construction,
it was. Well. Beautiful.

“Impressive, right?” Areiel asked, already reading the answer in Jaina’s eyes as she rolled
covered it again and leaned back into the corner of the couch to face Jaina. She looked so casual
for someone wearing so much silk. Silk fashioned to almost resemble a military uniform or a
uniform of office, no less. “Unfortunately, I have no idea how it works. I've never been very
talented in the magical arts and I'm certainly no jeweler.”

“It's astounding,” Jaina said as her mind still raced with the implications of such advancements.
“How long have you had it? How long is it able to function in such a way?”

Areiel didn't let her expression slip in the least, though she asked herself that same question
more and more frequently of late. “Two centuries or thereabouts. As far as how long it is able to
function, I'm uncertain. I know that it draws its power naturally from the place that we all do. As
long as that lasts, I suspect.”

“Wait, I...only two centuries?” Jaina asked after falling quiet for a moment. “We had thought -
my people, I mean - we had thought there to be peace at our borders for quite some time. I hope
my people didn't-”

“Your people couldn't have taken my leg even if they'd wanted to,” Areiel scoffed.

“My apologies. My curiosity often gets the better of me,” Jaina said quickly, regretting having
been so brazen.

“I told you there's nothing you can say that would offend me,” Areiel reassured without missing
a beat. “But this tale is far too gruesome a tale to be told before breakfast. I'm supposed to keep
you company and ensure your safety, not frighten you. Perhaps one day.”

“Of course,” Jaina said, more than a little thankful for Areiel’s grace. “And I do appreciate the
company.”
“Perhaps after this we could take a walk,” Areiel offered as she stood. For what reason, Jaina
wasn't sure. “Shoot a few arrows.”

A knock on the door a moment or two later - just as the former Captain got to it - told Jaina that
elven hearing was, perhaps, a bit keener than she'd realized.

For the first time, Jaina’s excitement drained a bit in regards to the lessons she was due to start
that day. Areiel was still looking over their more-than-ample breakfast when Jaina moved
towards the cart that had been delivered.

“Tomorrow, perhaps? I have a lesson with Magister Drathir, today,” Jaina sounded so genuinely
disappointed that it softened the sour note that name left ringing in Areiel’s ears.

“I'm aware of your lesson. I didn't realize it would be so early,” Areiel plucked up a few pies and
dropped them into a napkin she was holding without looking at Jaina. “I would be more than
glad to accompany you to it.”

She posed it as more of an offer than the inevitability that it was. She was good at that.

“That would be nice, I think,” Jaina said, none the wiser as she, too began picking out some
things that were quickly becoming her favorites. “I'm rather nervous, honestly.”

“Don't be,” Areiel said around a mouthful of pie while she carried her bounty back towards the
sofa, avoiding the little table Jaina often shared with Sylvanas in the mornings, altogether. “He is
just a man, after all.”

Jaina eyed Areiel for a moment before deciding to join her with her own breakfast on a plate in
her hand rather than piled on a napkin.

“How long have you known Sylvanas?” She asked, instead of asking Areiel how she could
manage to navigate the intricacies of semi-court life behaving the way she did. It was all too
easy to forget the bow and the introduction she'd received such a short while ago.

“I have known them all since they were born,” Areiel explained. “And Lireesa before them.
Lady Ironpants, I've known since she was an awful, gangly-looking thing.”

“Do you dislike her?” Jaina asked as she tried to maintain some semblance of composure. “You
have so many names for her.”

“I adore her, actually,” Areiel said with a fond smile. “She'd have made a fine Ranger. Far too
bulky now, though. A lost cause.”

“She doesn't talk much,” Jaina said, feeling more hungry for all the information Areiel seemed
so apt to divulge than she was for her admittedly delicious breakfast. “Sometimes I wonder if
my presence offends her.”

“Your presence may offend some, true enough. No one in the inner court, though. The
importance of it is too great and too well-understood. No, Liadrin is crushed into quietude by
various burdens. We all handle them differently, don't we? She swallows them, and I brandish
them. Alleria...well. Alleria is Alleria.”
“And Sylvanas?” Jaina asked, deciding once again to push her luck.

“Sylvanas…” Areiel trailed off as she looked down at the half-eaten pie in her hand. Her second
one, already. “Sylvanas does her best, always. And I'm glad for your presence, even if there are
some who only see it as a necessity. I haven't seen her young since she was a child. She seemed
young this morning when you surprised her with that kiss. Does this make sense to you?”

Jaina sighed and nodded her understanding as she wondered if she, herself, had ever been at all
young.

“I thought it might,” Areiel mused. “You can't be very old at all and yet I find you very easy to
converse with. I don't generally find the very young to be entertaining company, and yet here we
are, yammering away. Ah, well. Finish your breakfast. We don't want to be late for your lesson.”

“That’s very good, Lady Jaina,” Dar'Khan’s smooth-as-silk voice was pleasant to listen to, Jaina
had found over the course of the morning. His constant reassurances and pleasantries helped to
steady her hands each time she wove the arcane energies she was manipulating into a new form.
A spell to move a book here, a spell to freeze a glass of water there. Simple things that came to
Jaina easily and naturally. Things that had Areiel constantly reminding herself not to gape at the
girl from across the room.

“Thank you, Magister,” Jaina said with the first self-pleased smile she’d yet allowed herself
despite all her little victories.

“I know you don’t realize it just yet, but you are quite talented. Quite gifted. One so young
should be able to do little more than identify the magic within one's own self. The ability to
manipulate it so freely is quite rare. And with no training, no less. No basis of knowledge.”

Dar'Khan was strolling across the room as he spoke - and Jaina watched closely as he lifted a
little mirror from a rather ornate desk and looked down at it with a smile. He was rather
disarming, really. Shockingly beautiful in much the same way that Lireesa was. But then, that
must’ve been rather easy when you were a raven in a flock of doves like the two of them both
were. Yet, there was something just a touch different about him. Something Jaina couldn’t place.
Aside from the power that she could now more clearly identify that radiated from him.

“Thank you again, Magister,” Jaina said with a smile, feeling more than a little proud of herself
that she wasn’t blushing under all his praise.

“Before your lovely head gets too big for your shoulders, however,” Dar'Khan continued - not
really acknowledging her thanks as he held up the mirror. “I would like for you to break this
mirror.”

Jaina faltered immediately. They hadn’t even so much as glossed over anything that might do
any real damage. Jaina’s heart leaped into her throat and her stomach dropped all at once. He
must have seen the fear in her eyes.

“Do it now. Without thinking.”

His tone was a little different, suddenly. In a way Jaina couldn’t argue with or mull over. She
could only respond.
She lashed out at the mirror out of instinct, and everything happened so fast she wasn’t sure
what, exactly, had even happened. It shattered in his hand, and within the blink of an eye, the
power she’d sent out in its direction rocketed back towards her.

With a yelp, she held up her hand and winced even as Areiel flung herself from her seat in
Jaina’s direction in a near-blind panic. A panic that faded as she came to a stop only a few feet
from the magister and his pupil. A panic that turned, all at once, into shock.

Jaina opened her eyes slowly, and her heart hammered as she looked at the glimmering purple
field of energy that now separated her from the magister. A field that spread from her own
outstretched palm. Wavy and uncertain in some places. Steady and solid in others.

She lowered her hand slowly and felt, for the first time, the sensation of a more substantial
amount of power returning to her. It was a strange mix of sickening and heady, and then there
was the smell. A smell that was always almost something. Almost some familiar scent from long
ago, yet each time Jaina tried to chase its source in her memories, it morphed into something
else just out of reach.

“Very good, Jaina,” Dar'Khan sounded almost cat-like as he smiled in her direction. More self-
pleased than impressed. “A shield on your first day.”

“That’s enough,” Areiel said in a low, steady tone that pulled Jaina from her chase and back into
the moment at hand. “That’s more than enough for one day, I think. I’ll need to get her fed. I’m
sure she’ll be starving when all this newness wears off.”

Dar'Khan’s eyes flickered in the direction of the former Ranger.

“Oh, Captain,” He said with a sulk and a tilt of his head. “And I was so enjoying your silent
company. Very well, then. I’ll see you in two days’ time, Jaina.”

He turned his attention back to her and whatever had been lurking in his eyes, meant only for
Areiel, was gone. Replaced, instead, by warmth and openness.

Jaina bowed her head as Dar'Khan took her hand and leaned down to touch his forehead to it.

Jaina was halfway to the entryway of Dar'Khan’s practice room when she realized Areiel wasn’t
with her. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see the woman turning slowly away from
the magister. Whatever had passed between them, she couldn’t be sure. It couldn’t have been
words. A look, perhaps. Nothing that was any of Jaina’s business, she reminded herself as Areiel
caught up to her and led her out and away from Dar'Khan’s wing of the palace.

“Are you alright, Jaina?” Areiel finally asked once they were passing through an exterior
courtyard. Jaina knew enough now to know that they were heading back towards her own suite,
at least.

“Of course,” Jaina said, sounding altogether light-hearted and unconcerned. “That was...well.
More than I ever could’ve dreamt of and it was only my first lesson.”

Areiel nodded faintly and rolled her shoulders. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, then.”
“You ran over,” Jaina said as though she’d only just realized it. “When I broke the mirror, you
ran, didn’t you? Is everything alright?”

“Of course, Lady Jaina,” Areiel reassured. “Dar'Khan wouldn’t let anything happen to you in
your lessons. He’s more than capable enough to prevent any truly dangerous mishaps. I told you
I’ve never been all that magically inclined. My instinct was only to prevent Sylvanas having me
drawn and quartered upon her return if you had been harmed.”

“She would never,” Jaina said without hesitation, and Areiel snorted softly.

“I know, but I think I may grow fond of you when all is said and done, and I would like for you
to remain intact, as well.”

Jaina didn’t really know what to say to that. She didn’t dare hope for a friendship with someone
like this. Someone who seemed so...opposite of herself. So interesting. Yet, Areiel had said it,
after all. Not her. That she might grow fond of her.

“I’ve only just noticed that I’m starving,” Jaina said when she realized Areiel had been
absolutely correct earlier. “Is that normal?”

“It is, yes,” Areiel reassured her with a little smile and a sideways glance. Something about the
angle allowed Jaina to notice, for the first time, a few very faint lines at the corner of Areiel’s
eye that all but disappeared when her smile lessened as she looked ahead of them, again. “We’ll
stop by the kitchen and sneak some lunch. Does that sound agreeable?”

“Incredibly so,” Jaina mused. “But what if we get in trouble?”

Areiel let out a short, sharp laugh that sounded almost like a bark. “Oh, you really are quite
funny, aren’t you?”

Jaina only grinned because she couldn’t help it. All of this felt so conspiratorial and juvenile
and...fun. It felt fun to be slinking into a back entryway into the most wondrous kitchen she had
ever seen with some sort of elven dignitary-bodyguard escorting her.

And it truly was wondrous. The ceilings were high and vaulted and the countertops were a
mixture of marble and some of the finest woods she’d ever seen. There were more ovens, too,
than she’d ever seen in a single place. Closed ones with glass windows and open ones with
crackling flames and smoldering coals. It was bustling with activity, too. There was an
abundance of bread with various tops coming out of the ovens. Entire roast birds. Pies of all
varieties.

The smell, though. The smell was overwhelming. It was so mouth-watering it sent a pang
straight to her stomach. The cooks didn’t seem to take much notice of them, and Jaina remained
optimistic that it would stay that way until, suddenly, a small, authoritative woman with a blaze
of auburn hair tied up out of her face turned to face them both as they tried to sneak around the
counter towards a platter of various meats and dried fruits and a still-steaming loaf of bread.

“Red-handed,” She said with a look so stern Jaina felt like a child pilfering a handful of spring
berries from the baker in her own kitchen back home. “Is that your human word? For thief-
catching?”
Jaina was genuinely concerned for a moment before the cook shared a secretive smile with
Areiel, and then she was a mixture of embarrassed and amused with herself.

“Lady Jaina, this is Sylann. Sylann, Lady Jaina. Sylann runs the palace kitchens. She’s quite
talented. In many areas.” Areiel still hadn’t let her little smile slip from her face. If Jaina had to
describe it, she’d have said it was rather cock-sure. Not that she’d have said that aloud.

“Can you not be lewd in front of the girl?” Sylann asked in quick, smooth Thalassian.
Thalassian that no one present had any inkling Jaina understood quite clearly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Sylann. But I will still be in the palace when Sylvanas returns, you
know. And my sweet tooth has nothing to do with fruit pies.”

“The girl needn’t know about my talents or your tastes outside of the kitchen, Areiel, and if you
aren’t careful, the next time you come calling I might just find myself otherwise occupied.
Sweet tooth be damned.”

Sylann’s attention was back on Jaina, then, and her smile was warm and displayed not the
slightest hint of the rather racy, biting words she’d just used with Areiel. “It is good to meet you.
Have you enjoyed my cooking since you’ve been here?”

Her Common was so stilted compared to the way she’d spoken to Areiel, and Jaina was still red-
faced about it all. Areiel, meanwhile, was looking at her as though a bomb were slowly dropping
on her head.

“I have,” Jaina said, forcing a quick smile to cover up her own awkwardness. “Very much so.
I’ve never had food as lovely as the food you’ve prepared for us since my arrival.”

Sylann seemed pleased, and she nudged the tray they’d originally been going for in Jaina’s
direction. “This was yours, to begin with,” she stated with a wink. “Just so that we are clear.”

“Of course,” Jaina said, and Areiel gave Sylann a rather sickly sweet smile before they took
their leave with their lunch.

They were barely outside the door and Jaina had only just begun eyeing the platter when Areiel
spoke.

“You have a stone,” she observed quietly. “You or your lovely wife might have warned me of
such a thing, you know.”

Jaina was suddenly much more interested in melting into the floor than she was in their food.
And then genuine concern flooded her. Sylvanas had told her so expressly that it was best
nobody knew. She nearly stumbled as she walked.

“Don’t have a fit over it, Lady Jaina,” Areiel sighed. “Trust me, there are very few sets of eyes
and ears here that are as keen as mine. Sylann will never know you heard me verbally debauch
her. You would do well, though, in the future not to blush if you overhear something that
surprises you. Don’t get me wrong, I think it is best that you be able to understand us. I just wish
I’d known.”
“I’m sorry,” Jaina responded, sounding properly chastised. “I didn’t mean to put you in any sort
of untoward position.”

“I’m more upset that you heard my dressing down than I am over you hearing my flawlessly
poetic profession of adoration,” Areiel drawled, walking at a more easy pace, now. “In the spirit
of honesty and all.”

“I think I might have melted if Sylvanas had said something like that to me,” Jaina admitted.
“But it’s not as though I’m the picture of innocence, you know, or I likely wouldn’t have blushed
at all.”

“All too true,” Areiel agreed. “And you will find yourself quite surprised with Sylvanas one day,
I think. She’s certainly no blushing bride, and you’re going to have your hands full when she
finds herself ready to come out of her shell with you.”

Jaina nearly blushed yet again at the very idea before reminding herself she needed to reign that
in. It wasn’t as though she was shy about the idea. Quite the contrary. Quite the contrary, indeed.

All of that was largely forgotten, though, when they finally got back to their destination and had
their fill of lunch. Jaina was shocked at how much she was able to eat. Shocked, at least, until
she found herself nodding off in her chair while Areiel ate nearby.

Areiel only chuckled quietly and helped her to the sofa where she left her to locate a throw
blanket, and Jaina remembered little else after that.
 Absence

The snowfall had finally ceased that morning, and Areiel was endlessly grateful for that fact.
She'd been stuck in the tent with her young charge for three days, now - only leaving for short
periods of time to check nearby traps and gather more wood for their fire.

They didn't require much, though. Their tent was rather different to most, after all. Laced with
subtle enchantments Lireesa had left behind to make Areiel’s stint as a babysitter a touch
warmer and a touch more bearable.

“That's it,” Areiel encouraged with a grin as she adjusted Alleria’s hand on her little bow and
helped her place her arrow. “Remember the bow is about pushing, not pulling.”

“When is mama coming home?” Alleria asked as she aimed down the shaft of her arrow at the
stump of a tree nearby.

Areiel frowned when Alleria missed the stump and let out a grunt of frustration.

“She's just at the next camp over,” Areiel explained in a gentle tone as she reached for the bow
and eased it away from Alleria’s hands. “She's helping with a baby.”

“Because a baby is being born,” Alleria said and Areiel nodded. Lireesa had gone because they
usually didn't birth children in the hardest months of their nearly never-ending winters. She'd
gone because they couldn't afford to lose another. “And mama helps.”

“That's right, Alleria,” Areiel said as she stood easily and swung the child up onto her hip. “Do
you think we've caught a rabbit yet? Perhaps a nice stew is in order tonight. Maybe you and
your mama can have it if she gets home in time.”

“I think two,” Alleria argued good-naturedly, clearly just as high of spirits to be out of the
stuffiness of their tent.

“Two?” Areiel asked in feigned shock as she walked across the snow towards the little path
she'd been cutting in it to her traps for the past few days. It gathered over the tops of her
carefully waxed boots but didn't wet them. “That's a great deal of rabbit. Do you think we can
eat two rabbits worth of stew?”

“We can share with Kael,” Alleria offered, grinning from ear-to-ear.

Areiel didn't frown, though she wanted to. She only hiked Alleria up a little higher against
herself when the branches began getting a little tight. “The king and his son have more than
enough rabbits, don't you fret. I see to that myself, regularly.”

“But I like Kael,” Alleria complained softly, adjusting her grip on Areiel’s fur-lined cloak for a
moment before deciding she'd rather have her hands and arms underneath it, instead, for
warmth.

“He's a nice boy, Alleria. There is no shame in caring for your friend’s well-being, no matter
whose son he is. You are right.”

They'd only just made it to the second trap by the time what little light they would have that day
began to fade. Alleria was, by now, clinging to Areiel’s back beneath her cloak as Areiel worked
her way through the thickness of the forest - using her keen eyes to search for any possible
danger. She hadn't added Alleria’s weight or bulk into the equation for this journey along her
trap lines, and she had her bow drawn and at the ready.

“We're almost there, little one,” she reassured Alleria quietly as her eyes focused sharply on a
strange blue glow in the distance. Her voice was steady despite the sudden rush of adrenaline at
the possibility of what might be lying in weight for them out in the quickly advancing darkness.
“Perhaps we will check the last trap tomorrow, hm?”

The glowing orb grew closer, and Areiel froze.

“Do you mean to shoot me, o’ great protector? In my own woods?” The voice was familiar and
amused as it spoke directly into her mind. As soft and lovely and alluring as ever it had been.
“You needn't check the last trap. I have your rabbit in my pouch.”

Areiel sighed in relief and smiled.

“Alleria, it looks like you'll be having that stew with your mother tonight, after all,” Areiel
announced as she swung Alleria down from her back and helped her plant her booted feet in the
evergreen needles and snow beneath them.
“Will you eat with us, Arei?” Alleria asked as she strained to look into the distance towards the
ever-brightening glow of the magic belonging to her mother that lit her path.

Areiel looked, too, then. She felt an all-too-familiar ache in her chest as she slowly looked away.
No more voice came into her mind despite the fact that she knew very well that Lireesa was
listening.

“I'm afraid not. It's best you and your mother spend this evening together after she's been away
for so long, yes?”

Just then, a little light much like the one in the distance made itself known just over their heads.
Just enough that Areiel would have no trouble finding her footing on her way back to Lireesa’s
little camp if the night caught them too soon. It began leading their way home, and Areiel
followed. She knew enough to know a dismissal, and it was quite clear to her that Lireesa
wanted to finish her journey in peace, as she did most things, now. Areiel hoisted Alleria back
into her arms after a few steps. The snow was far too deep for her little legs.

Areiel wasn't worried about Lireesa trailing so far behind them. She had no reason to fear the
night, and they were much safer, themselves, for her presence.

Lireesa looked at Areiel evenly as she stepped into her parlor and shut the door behind herself.
The former ranger looked uneasy, not that Lireesa was at all surprised by this.

“I'm shocked you requested to speak with me, Areiel,” Lireesa stated the obvious as she looked
the all-too-familiar woman over. They had known each other for so long. So very, very long. Too
long. “I'd have thought you'd be long gone again by now.”

“Regarding Drathir,” Areiel explained, and Lireesa gestured at the armchair across the room that
was positioned in the sunlight filtering in through the room’s many windows. This wasn't
Lireesa’s favorite room by any means, but rangers and those like them much preferred it. She
always took that into consideration when entertaining them.

Lireesa herself took a chair nearby out of the warm rays and they sat almost in unison.

“It’s been a long time, Lireesa,” Areiel observed as she crossed one leg over the other.

“Has it?” Lireesa asked, and Areiel knew immediately that she didn't want an answer. “How is
your construct?”

Areiel pursed her lips and fiddled with her breeches over a knee that was just a touch too angular
to be organic. “Holding up. A little slow in the mornings, these days. Then again, so am I.”

Lireesa watched the way Areiel fiddled with the material of her pants for a while before she
seemed to snap back into herself.

“You have concerns with Dar’Khan?” She asked without any further pleasantries or discussions
regarding things she had no control over. Her least favorite topics of conversation.

Areiel exhaled through her nose in amusement. When did she not have concerns with
Dar’Khan?
“With his careless attitude towards the Lady, yes,” Areiel said without hesitation. She didn't
have time for hesitation. “Towards Jaina.”

Lireesa’s focus sharpened, suddenly, and her eyes raked Areiel over. She felt like coals,
suddenly, and Lireesa the poker.

“Careless?”

“He likes to surprise her. With reflecting spells, magical attacks, pressure against personal wards
she had no idea existed until these past two weeks. I fear she will wind up hurt. Magically or
otherwise. As she's been my charge while Sylvanas has been on the border, I only feel it's my
duty to express these concerns to you.”

“I’ve had so many concerns expressed to me lately regarding Dar’Khan,” Lireesa mused as she
tapped her fingertips against the arm of her chair. “My rooms have become a revolving door and
my ears a complaint ledger about him of late.”

“Well, is that anything new?” Areiel asked rather dryly.

Lireesa only smirked and shook her head.

“He is a necessary evil, Areiel. Now more than ever,” Lireesa sighed as she stood. “I’ll observe
his next lesson, myself. Did you mention any of this to Sylvanas?”

“No. I fear she’d get herself into far too much trouble if she developed any deeper an amount of
distaste for him.”

Areiel stood too then, and looked at Lireesa as she retreated further into the room towards her
sofa and a small stack of books Areiel had no doubt she’d read a hundred times, already.

“Would you like some company this evening?” Areiel asked, though she had no real hope. That
had been dashed long, long ago.

“No, Areiel. I’m fine,” Lireesa said as she sat down, now even further away from the other
woman. “Your offer is appreciated.”

“Is it?” Areiel asked with a slight tilt of her head. She was smiling, though. Just a little.

“Perhaps not,” Lireesa responded, her tone distant and non-committal. “I am not overly fond of
overly familiar faces. You know this.”

Areiel nodded and cleared her throat as she looked away from Lireesa towards the door. The
prospect of leaving was much easier than looking at her. Than remembering so very much. She
knew if she looked too long it would begin to hurt.

“I’ll be going, then. I have a cook to visit,” Areiel said, and Lireesa made a small, amused sound
in response.

“I’m sure that you do.”

Sylvanas felt as though every inch of her was alight with nerves and she hadn’t the faintest idea
of how to navigate that fact. She’d never experienced this before. She’d missed people,
certainly. But not like this. She’d never missed someone in a way that had her forcing herself not
to jog down the corridor to her rooms. To Jaina.

She was tired and worn out and any other time all she’d have been thinking about would’ve been
bed. But now, as she opened the door, she was thinking about anything but. Her heart lept to her
throat in the most ridiculous way as Jaina put her book aside and got to her feet swiftly with a
grin on her face that lit up the room despite the relative darkness of it. She was beautiful.

“Sylvanas,” Jaina said, sounding a little breathless and looking a little conflicted. Halfway
between composing herself and throwing herself into Sylvanas’s arms.

She chose not to compose herself. They met in the middle and Sylvanas lifted her from her feet
into a tight hug and Jaina responded by burying her face in the crook of her wife’s neck like it
was the most natural thing in the world because right then, it was.

“I missed you,” Jaina gasped, and Sylvanas could feel that she was still smiling against her neck.

“I missed you, too,” Sylvanas sighed as she slowly lowered Jaina onto her feet but kept holding
her just as close.

Sylvanas smelled, to Jaina, like horse and trees and smoke and her and she was certain she’d
never experienced anything quite like it.

“I smell, don’t I?” Sylvanas asked as she noticed how deeply Jaina was breathing her in.

“It isn’t a bad thing,” Jaina reassured as she pulled back just enough to look at Sylvanas since
everything up to that moment had been little more than a blur. “How are you? Did anything
happen?”

“It was only a border ride. I’m just fine,” Sylvanas said with a soft smile as she lifted one of her
gloved hands to hold the side of Jaina’s face in her palm.

Jaina thought, then, of the hundred or so questions she’d had running circles around her mind
since Areiel had told her more about her wife than she’d had the courage to ask her, herself. She
thought, but she didn’t feel Sylvanas deserved to be badgered after two weeks of riding.

“We should probably get you to bed, right?” Jaina asked as she reached for Sylvanas’s hand and
took it into her own to give it a soft squeeze.

“I usually go to the baths when I return from any significant excursion, actually,” Sylvanas said,
looking down at their hands together as the memory of Jaina kissing her upon her departure
suddenly leapt to the forefront of her thoughts. “Would you join me?”

“In the baths?” Jaina asked quietly, not sure whether she should be feeling nervous or excited at
the prospect. “As in…”

“As in I need to soak because my bones ache and I would much rather do it in your company,”
Sylvanas explained with a half-smile. “Nothing more, I don’t think. I really am rather tired.”
“Oh,” Jaina let out a breathy laugh at herself and lowered her head as she leaned back into
Sylvanas and pressed her face against her chest. “I’d love that, then.”

Sylvanas stroked along Jaina’s back for a moment - too tired and too content to be worried over
dirtying her dress, however lovely it might’ve been.

“I’ll get changed, then,” Sylvanas said. “I don’t need to get any of this wet any more than it
already has been. I got drenched more than once.”

Jaina blinked at Sylvanas as she finally began letting her go. “It rains on the border? I...I just
realized it doesn’t rain here. It feels so odd to have only just noticed.”

“A lot of things are odd here,” Sylvanas explained with a soft chuckle. “I’ll be right back.
Perhaps you should change into something a little more casual, too.”

“Of course,” Jaina responded, again not wanting to question Sylvanas all that much. That could
wait. Her curiosities could wait. She was just so glad to have her back.

They met again in the same room a while later, and Jaina couldn’t help the way her cheeks
colored at the way Sylvanas was dressed. The low-cut linen shirt tied loosely around her waist
with a gold-colored sash. The baggy, almost sheer pants she was wearing that were made up of
too much material to actually show anything.

Jaina, herself, had chosen a simple pair of breeches and a loose silk shirt that had been a gift
from Vereesa - the littlest Windrunner - left with a knock on her door and a little note not even a
week ago. Jaina kept telling herself she would have to have lunch or take the girl on a walk to
repay her.

That could wait, though. Especially since Sylvanas was now offering her an arm and leading
them from their rooms towards what Jaina could only presume were the baths she’d mentioned.

‘Baths’ couldn’t really have prepared Jaina for the magic of it all. The very walls oozed the
remnants of the power it must’ve taken to create something like this down beneath the palace
from the smooth, natural stairs to the curved, high stone walls. The pools themselves glowed
with no perceivable source of light. Otherworldly, soft light that caught in the steam that rose
from the water.

“They’re communal,” Jaina observed quietly as Sylvanas collected some towels and robes for
them despite the attendant’s urging that he would show them to their pool.

“They are,” Sylvanas said with a little smile. “There are more private ones for us. Don’t worry.
We have our own corridor.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Jaina asked curiously to distract herself from slowly dawning realization that, of
course, this meant they were to disrobe in front of each other.

“The inner circle of the royal family, and the family itself,” Sylvanas explained. “These pools
are for the rest of the palace.”

“I see,” Jaina murmured as she took one last look around and then followed Sylvanas down a
side corridor that was crafted even more carefully, it seemed, than the rest of the baths to include
a few hangings of what Jaina had gathered to be the royal crest. In this section of the baths, the
stone walls seemed to have been treated in a way that left them a touch more inclined to reflect
the various colors of the pools, and the pools were all illuminated in faintly different shades of
blues and greens that looked more than a little mesmerizing through the hangings that closed
them off from each other.

Even the plain linen Sylvanas was wearing wasn’t so plain anymore in this light, Jaina realized,
as Sylvanas led them towards the pool she seemed to have chosen.

Sylvanas was halfway through untying the sash around her waist when she noticed Jaina was
looking, rather pointedly, at the floor near the curtain that obscured their pool.

“Would you like some privacy?” Sylvanas asked. “From...me undressing?”

Jaina looked up and nearly laughed, both at Sylvanas’s hesitant expression and the situation, in
general. “No,” She said after just a moment of hesitation. “No I think that’d be a little silly,
wouldn’t it?”

“Nothing that would make you comfortable is silly, but alright. As you wish.”

The sash came off and Sylvanas pushed past the curtain to drape it on a hook protruding from
the stone wall. Her ear flicked faintly in response to the rustling of the curtain signaling Jaina
had followed her.

Despite Jaina’s reassurances, Sylvanas continued undressing with her back to her to give Jaina a
moment to disrobe in peace. Jaina took the hint and found herself quite appreciative of it as she
hurried out of her clothes only to fumble a bit when Sylvanas slipped her shirt off and hung it
with her sash.

Areiel’s prior explanations and stories sprang to mind and Jaina’s brow furrowed when she saw
more scars than she expected, which was none, really. Figureheads didn’t tend to have scars like
that, did they? None that Jaina had ever known.

Jaina scarcely noticed Sylvanas had done away with her pants as she took a few steps forward
and reached out to touch along her bare shoulder blade where a particularly nasty stretch of
shiny white skin spoke to just how real some of the stories Jaina had heard might be.

“What’s this?” She asked quietly the moment she noticed Sylvanas had stopped moving,
entirely.

“Nothing,” Sylvanas said softly, allowing Jaina a moment longer of looking before she slowly
turned to face her. She was smiling in a way that told Jaina she likely understood Jaina knew
better. It was an almost sad smile, though, and Jaina frowned as she slid her hand from
Sylvanas’s back to her side.

“You told me you would never lie if you could help it,” Jaina pressed without even looking
down, though all the world had just been revealed to her.

“Not everything is as it seems, here,” Sylvanas murmured almost apologetically. “But I promise
you I wasn’t in any danger this time. That hasn’t always been the case.”
“I can’t stand the thought of you hurting,” Jaina breathed with a shake of her head. “Is that
strange?”

“Not at all,” Sylvanas offered gently, her eyes staying trained on Jaina’s own despite the
newness of their nakedness. “It's been a long while since I've hurt physically, for as much as that
is worth.”

“It's worth a lot,” Jaina affirmed immediately. “But what of your heart? You put some emphasis
on ‘physically’.” Jaina felt brash, suddenly, as she moved her hand from Sylvanas’s side to her
chest.

Sylvanas covered Jaina’s hand with her own and held it there tightly.

“That's the part of me that knows fear,” Sylvanas murmured as though that admittance might
escape the stone of these walls and leak into the court above. “When no other part does.”

Jaina felt her own chest ache, then.

“I won't hurt it,” she said, her voice a whisper. “I promise you. I cherish you as I have never
cherished anything. Please tell me it isn't me you fear.”

Sylvanas released Jaina’s hand only to wrap her fingers delicately around her wrist instead as
she felt her own heart hammer a little harder in her chest. She didn't doubt Jaina could feel it,
too. “I don't think I fear you anymore. I don't believe anyone could feign the way you look at me
from the corner of your eye when you think I am not watching you.”

Jaina watched, then, as Sylvanas’s throat shifted while they looked at each other. Nerves? Jaina
wondered. “I am glad, then. Forgive me for being classless, but if you are trying not to look at
me I very much wish that you would.”

“You aren't classless,” Sylvanas breathed with a faint quirk of her lips, relieved to traverse
familiar territory, now, instead. However unfamiliar it was between the two of them. “And I
don't need to see you without your clothes to know that you are stunning underneath them.”

She finally allowed herself to look, then. She'd known, of course, that Jaina would be beautiful.
She couldn't have guessed how alluring the freckles that dusted her full breasts would be. She
couldn't have known how pale and soft and flawless her skin was.

“And you are stunning,” Sylvanas whispered, slowly looking back up at Jaina to find her wife’s
own eyes had begun to wander over the sinewy muscle of an archer and a fighter. “You kissed
me when I left. For my pride, I think. Would you let me kiss you now because I want desperately
to feel your lips against mine, instead?”

“I want that very much.”

Jaina dared to move closer until the warmth of Sylvanas's body pressed against the front of her
own, and she found Sylvanas’s hands coming up to cradle her face just as she rested her own
carefully against her hips.

“Are you certain?” Sylvanas asked. “Your hands are shaking.”

“Of course, they are,” Jaina breathed as her entire body began to feel entirely too warm. She was
blushing for a hundred reasons. For the way her nipples were hard where they pressed into
Sylvanas’s chest. For the way she had never imagined this moment not being anything more
than her allowing someone to see her, but wanting it, instead. “Look at you.”

“And you.” Sylvanas countered so earnestly that Jaina felt her breath escape her for a moment.

Sylvanas’s hands shifted delicately to the sides of Jaina’s neck, and for a moment Jaina realized
just how little Sylvanas looked like a prince, now. Small and lythe and strong. Smaller, even,
than her. Yet larger, somehow. Like she took up more space than she had any right to.

When their lips met, it was nothing like the quick, chaste kiss Jaina had surprised Sylvanas with
two weeks prior. Jaina had had secret kisses before. Giggling, quick things that had been more
embarrassing than anything else.

That was not how her wife kissed. Even without either of them parting their lips, Jaina felt as
though she was being engulfed in flames. Sylvanas’s soft exhales through her nose only fanned
the embers. Her thumbs framing Jaina’s jaw were burning tendrils of fire licking at her
overheated skin. Jaina had always thought burning would be the most terrible way to go. Now
she wasn't so sure.

She was dry kindling to Sylvanas’s blazing torch by the time Sylvanas withdrew. A dead and
hollow tree stretching out greedily towards a storm cloud praying to be met with even a single
angry bolt to end its vigil.

“You like the way that I kiss you,” Sylvanas observed in a whisper that was so close to Jaina’s
lips she nearly felt consoled about their absence from her own. Nearly.

“I only wish you wouldn't stop,” Jaina breathed, and Sylvanas felt the tremor of that breath
against her skin.

“I can keep going,” Sylvanas offered, and placed a single kiss to the corner of Jaina’s mouth as if
to prove it to her.

“Do you always kiss your women this way?” Jaina asked in a half-daze. “Like the hero of some
great tale claiming her prize?”

“I kiss my wife this way,” Sylvanas murmured without hesitation as her hand shifted and she
traced Jaina’s lips with her thumb. “No one can kiss any two people alike. Kissing is a dance. A
duet. It either works or it does not. No harpist in the world can make a singer fall into key out of
sheer will. There must be something there to begin with. Something between them. A melody
that runs under the notes. A rhythm that exists before the steps.”

“Thalassian isn't helping the jumble that has become of my thoughts,” Jaina accused.

“I didn't realize,” Sylvanas admitted with a breathy, barely-audible laugh as the tips of their
noses brushed.

“I don't want you to stop that right now, either, Sylvanas,” Jaina said as she finally found the
courage to slip her hands around Sylvanas’s slender waist to rest against the small of her back. “I
do like the way that you kiss me. As much as I like the way that you speak to me.”
Sylvanas caught Jaina’s eyes for a moment, and there was only the faintest hint of questioning in
her own softly glowing ones before she leaned in again. Her tongue brushed Jaina’s upper lip
this time, and Jaina’s nails dug into her back for only a moment before she returned the gesture.

“The things I would say to you now do not exist in Common,” Sylvanas breathed in the short
space between their kisses. “The way I wish to read you like poetry. The way I wish to write the
lines of my confessions on the parchment of your skin. I fear coming undone every time you
touch me. Every time you gaze at me. But I have to love you. You must love me.”

Even as Sylvanas spoke, Jaina felt her hands begin to wander. They were trembling perhaps as
badly as her own. Trembling with want, no doubt. With crumbling will.

“Do you not love me?” Jaina asked with her lips still tingling and glistening as Sylvanas’s
forehead rested against her own. Her tone was too gentle to feel accusatory. “Not yet?”

Sylvanas dropped her head to the crook of Jaina’s neck to breathe in the scent of her and Jaina
arched towards her mouth when it opened against her skin. When she felt the faintest hint of
how cruel those fangs might be if the need arose.

Jaina breathed a shuddering breath and lifted a hand to the back of Sylvanas’s neck to cradle it.
“Not yet, then-”

“Too much,” Sylvanas whispered as she rested her face against Jaina’s shoulder. “What I feel for
you is more than I have felt for anyone else and it threatens to overwhelm me.”

“This is a conversation, perhaps, for when you are not so exhausted,” Jaina suggested as she
tried to regain her control over her breathing and rid her knees of weakness. “You only wanted
to soak when we came here. The ache of travel is still in your bones and this can wait.”

Sylvanas lifted her head slowly and it was Jaina’s turn, now, to reach for her face. To cradle and
cherish its perfection. The sharpness and softness alike of her features. Even the darkness of
fatigue beneath her eyes.

“But please know that I feel it, too. Believe that I do.”

Jaina kissed Sylvanas this time once she'd finished saying her piece. As softly as Sylvanas had
first kissed her, only instead of bringing fire, the next moments soothed them both. Sylvanas’s
hands stopped their roaming and moved to the braid of her hair as they leaned into each other.
Her deft fingers loosened each piece until Jaina felt the faint tightness at her scalp ease.

She was glad for the pool when they finally made it there. Glad for the scalding water to wash
away the evidence of how ready she had been for Sylvanas to take her and glad for the heat to
give her another excuse for the redness of her skin.

She noticed as Sylvanas got in after her that there was a very small measure of stiffness to her
movements. Not by human standards. But Jaina had learned well that there was a distinct
difference there.

“What is the most sore?” Jaina asked with a frown when Sylvanas found a seat in the stone basin
next to her.
“Everything,” Sylvanas grumbled as her head fell back and she groaned once she finally let
some of the tension in her body melt away. The magic of the water was already working on her.
Her eyes shut in near-bliss as she allowed it to seek out her aches and mend them. “I'll be fine
soon.”

Jaina forced herself to stop fretting, and the moment she did - she realized just why Sylvanas
came here after her journeys.

She realized she was being bathed in magic. Soft, gentle magic that had been kneaded and
manipulated into something so subtle as to be an undercurrent, but so steady and intent in its
purpose that it was as impressive as any frost bolt she had produced in her last lesson.

Everything here was a marvel to her, still.

Perhaps nothing more so than the half-awake woman lounging next to her - unabashedly on
display.

Yet another thing to get used to, Jaina supposed.

But the view was exquisite, and Sylvanas smiled each time she caught Jaina looking.
 A Thief a Murderer and a Magister

Valeera felt a familiar sense of calm wash over her as she looked at the courtyard she would
plummet to if she lost her footing. She took a moment to appreciate the feeling as she leaned
against the marble wall of the palace at her back and hooked a thumb in her belt.

There was something so attractive about the idea of imminent death. Of the thought of shattering
the serene beauty of the palace gardens and all their dancing lights with the sudden addition of
her broken body.

She smirked as she let one of her heels slip on purpose and dangled it over to allow the warm
breeze to catch and tug at her leg. Her ledge protruded no more than a few inches. It would have
been safer to be tucked against the window nearby, but then someone might see her here.

Valeera grew bored with her own game and sighed as she slipped her fingertips into the pouch of
chalk on her belt and slapped her hands together. The carelessness in the way she turned was
practiced and easy while she glanced up at another ledge. Another story up. A good ten feet.

She dug the tips of her doeskin-clad toes into the stone beneath them and leapt. She'd never been
tall, but pound for pound that mattered little where she was concerned - dangling as she was by
three fingertips - pulling herself up after a quick swing to gather momentum.
A shadow in the hallway beyond her chosen window had her turning quickly - her back to the
wall once more, just out of sight of the glass. She listened closely, then, to the footsteps that
belonged to whatever guard was patrolling until they faded away entirely.

Four ledges away. That was her target. Four ledges away, and four stories from the ground.

Her lips curled again as she slid a hand along marble that was too smooth to ever provide a grip,
and the muscles in her legs bunched as she made the leap. First to one window. Then the next.

She came to a sudden stop as she felt the very edges of Lireesa’s wards. She'd almost come too
close. They shifted in this way, sometimes. There'd been a time when her personal wards had
spanned the entire palace. Now, they pulsed and explored in little tendrils in close proximity to
her.

Valeera reached quickly for another pouch just as a searching tendril reached out for her, and in
an instant, she vanished.

The tendril found nothing and receded back into the ward from which it had emerged, and
Valeera observed it silently from the strange, once-removed state of her current being from the
ledge of the window that led to Lireesa’s inner chambers.

She was shocked she’d managed to finally find the ingredients for a vanishing powder that
Lireesa’s wards couldn’t detect. Shocked, prideful, and vaguely concerned as her eyes fell upon
the slight crack in the open window.

A crack that could only mean Lireesa had a guest, as she would never have had a window open,
otherwise. She strained to hear what was happening past the room the window led to, but the
spells woven about the rooms were yet strong enough to stop her eavesdropping.

Valeera took a breath and slipped into the window like a shadow without a sound. She kept
moving, then. Her feet were silent on the marble floors of Lireesa’s foyer and beyond until she
was finally pressed to the door of the queen’s parlor.

She’d already won. She’d already done what she’d set out to do.

Yet, she pressed further. Even as her powder wore off, she pushed the door open quickly and
was met with an alarmed shout from Lireesa’s guest.

Liadrin.

Liadrin, drawing her sword with a shout and quickly moving in front of Lireesa as the table
they’d been sitting at toppled over - spilling food and drink and parchments all over the flawless
carpet.

Lireesa didn’t budge. She just looked into Valeera’s eyes as Valeera lowered the cloth from her
nose and mouth slowly to reveal herself fully.

“Good evening, Valeera,” Lireesa greeted evenly as Liadrin let out a shuddering breath and
sheathed her weapon. “I see you’ve bested my guards.”
“And their fearless leader is present,” Valeera noted just as passively as her eyes slowly shifted
from Lireesa’s to Liadrin’s. “How embarrassing.”

“Quite,” Lireesa agreed with a faint smile. “We were done with our conversation, anyway.”

Lireesa stood. Valeera would’ve found it odd that no wine seemed to have so much as touched
Lireesa’s clothes if she weren’t used to such things, by now. Their queen left Liadrin to clean up
the mess she’d made, but stopped in the doorway.

“Don’t forget our Spymaster’s extra stipend for finding the holes in your security after you’ve
cleaned up, Liadrin.”

Liadrin’s blush only deepened, and Valeera knew she was absolutely seething. She could feel it
coming off of her in waves.

“Of course, My Lady.”

Lireesa was gone, then. Gone into the rest of her vast rooms as Liadrin’s hands shook in anger
each time she picked the next new ruined item up and placed it back onto the righted table.

“How?” Liadrin asked through gritted teeth. Through just-hidden fangs whose tips glinted only
every now and then.

“The exterior wall over the gardens,” Valeera explained calmly. “The window ledges.”

“Explains why you’re wearing white,” Liadrin bit back. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Valeera just regarded her calmly for a while before responding.

“Just not my color, or are you insinuating the woman you fuck regularly is some sort of whore?”

Liadrin’s eyes snapped up and Valeera had to stop herself smirking in response to the fire that
blazed in them. She didn’t even budge as Liadrin abandoned her task and stalked towards her -
larger than life in her tabard and her high-collared undercoat. Valeera only looked up at her
impassively as Liadrin clenched her jaw and pulled a coin purse from her belt to offer it up
rather roughly.

Valeera reached for it, but instead of taking it - she wrapped her hand around the purse and
around Liadrin’s fingers and tightened them around it.

“Had I known you were here, I might have waited,” Valeera said quietly so that only Liadrin
would hear. “I don’t want your gold.”

“Then what do you want? I’m afraid I’m fresh out of pride suddenly if that’s what you’re after.”

“Take me to dinner,” Valeera responded. “It’ll be a fraction of the cost and you look like you
could use some more wine.”

Liadrin, in her shock, said nothing.

“You seem to be fresh out of that, too,” Valeera’s gaze shifted to the bright purple stain still
spreading across Lireesa’s carpet, and Liadrin Shut her eyes in frustration.

“You torment me,” Liadrin muttered as she slipped her gold pouch back into her belt. “You
know this, yes?”

“By saving you gold and gracing you with my presence over dinner?” Valeera asked, her voice
still a low murmur. “And perhaps gracing your bed with it afterward?”

Liadrin’s eyes opened and she let out a little breath when she realized Valeera’s hand was
sneaking past her tabard to touch along her hip.

She pushed it away slowly and nodded. “Alright, then. Dinner. But first, I need to deal with this.
Where was my man in the gardens when you made it up the wall?”

“Waiting for a clandestine rendezvous between my mouth and his cock in the northwest corner
too far out of sight for me to be spotted,” Valeera answered simply. “He is not your strongest
soldier.”

“You're telling me my guard left his post and put our Queen’s life in danger because you offered
him a singular sexual favor?”

Valeera smirked and exhaled her amusement through her nose. “I wanted to see what it would
take. Not much, evidently. I offered him a meeting time and a place after I followed him to the
Inn last night, where I plied him with far too little wine to affect his moral compass only to find
it already lacking. He even told me his patrol route, you know. So that we wouldn't be seen.”

Valeera watched something shift in Liadrin’s eyes. Anger, perhaps. Rage seemed more apt,
really. Yet, she maintained her composure as Valeera spoke and when she finished, Liadrin’s
eyes flashed towards the door.

“I’ll need you to join me when I call him in,” Liadrin said, finally adjusting her tabard and her
belt from where they'd shifted out of place in her scramble to protect Lireesa.

“Of course,” Valeera offered no more witty barbs, because there was very little fun to be had
when the situation was suddenly so serious again. And she knew how seriously Liadrin took her
job. Her charge.

Valeera really wasn't all that different deep down. She owed her life to Lireesa and she knew it.
She'd felt no small amount of disappointment when she realized the guard had taken her up on
her invitation.

The restaurant Valeera had chosen was, as most such establishments in the city center,
ostentatious to say the least. The floors - all black marble in juxtaposition to the white of the
palace, itself, - were largely covered in beautifully hand-crafted rugs. Rugs that would never
stain or wear out by virtue of the magic woven into the very threads of them.

Each and every table had its own small, soft mage light that ebbed flowed gently in mercurial
tones of blues and pinks in time to the music being played by hired bards playing somewhere in
the distance. It made for a pretty sight when reflected through their crystal glasses against their
silver utensils and silk napkins.

“I thought for sure you were going to have him exiled or worse,” Valeera said quietly once the
woman that had poured their wine was well out of earshot. The clinking of glasses and
silverware in the dimly lit, opulent space they were dining in seemed so loud to Valeera. She
wondered if it did to Liadrin, too. “You were so angry. Let me ask you, was it pride or genuine
concern for Lireesa?”

“Concern of course,” Liadrin answered quickly as she eyed her glass of wine and glanced
around the room. They were dining in their own section, of course. Sheer curtains separated
them from the less notable nobility and their company. “Why would you think anything else?”

Valeera responded with a small, noncommittal shrug and Liadrin stared at her for a beat or two
before her attention returned to her wine and the basket of honeyed rolls that had been left for
them.

“This is a terrible date,” Valeera observed a few moments later, sounding almost somber before
she popped a bit of bread into her mouth.

Liadrin’s eyes widened and snapped up in response.

“This is a date?”

Valeera chuckled and her fangs flashed for a moment when she grinned. “I knew that would get
your attention. No, no. It's not a date. I would never pay for a date and technically I paid for this.
Don't worry, you're still just casually fucking me very well.”

Liadrin’s face was a mask aside from the darkening of her cheeks.

“We're in public,” she pointed out.

“Amongst a bunch of useless noble alcoholics who are only good for sex and gossip,” Valeera
countered quickly, and Liadrin lifted a brow. It was hard to argue with that.

“You make a habit of fucking nobles, then?” Liadrin asked after taking a sip of her wine.

“I have a habit of fucking people who think they are too good for me because once they've
fucked me, they realize it's quite the opposite. And then I make myself unavailable,” Valeera ran
her fingertip around the rim of her wine glass so that it made a soft, pleasant sound. Something
faintly musical to focus on beneath the din of terrible conversation going on around them now
that the musicians from earlier seemed to have left for the evening. “It gets me off.”

Liadrin set her jaw and nudged her own glass back and forth a few times before tilting her head
to try and appear unaffected.

“Is that what this is?”

“No,” Valeera responded easily, looking at Liadrin with half-lidded eyes. “Or hadn't you noticed
that I can't stop fucking you?”
“I-” Liadrin cleared her throat and sighed. “I've told you before that I don't think I'm better than
you. It has nothing to do with sex, by the way.”

“Doesn't it?” Valeera asked with a half-smirk. “Doesn't everything? You weren't having it
before, right? You still act half-starved when it's even remotely on the table. So even when you
weren't sleeping with anyone there was a reason for it. Masochism? What were you punishing
yourself for, hm? This-”

“Would you like another bottle of wine with your dishes? I'd recommend a nice white for you,
Lady Sanguinar. I have a vintage that pairs perfectly with sunfish.”

Valeera turned her too-nice smile onto their waiter. “The white would be lovely, thank you.”

He nodded politely.

“And you, Lady Liadrin?” He asked as he sat her plate down in front of her. “A blackcherry red
for your venison?”

“Of course,” Liadrin responded as though it was obvious, because it was. She was too flustered
to reflect upon that fact and she was just as thankful for the distraction of their new bottles being
opened and poured.

It took them long enough to be left alone that Liadrin was almost sure Valeera would've dropped
their conversation by then, but she should've known better. She absolutely should've known
better.

“So anyway,” Valeera began as she flaked off a small bite of her perfectly-seared sunfish. “Why
don't you deserve pleasure, Liadrin? Or, if that isn't it, what does its absence provide you with?”

“What if I just don't like to have sex?” Liadrin asked, finding it easier to have this talk now that
she had something more substantial to do with her hands.

“That would be just fine, but you would also be lying,” Valeera sounded so casual and so sure
that Liadrin knew that was a useless thread to follow.

“Can we talk about it later perhaps?” Liadrin finally settled on with a bite of venison and
mushroom ready on her fork. “I’m not a prude, Valeera, but this subject, in particular, is
impossible for me to discuss in a restaurant full of people.”

“I'd like to, yes,” Valeera said as she toyed with the leeks on her plate. They weren't her favorite,
but she didn't hate them. Truth be told, she hadn't been very focused when she'd ordered this
meal. She hadn't been very focused at all, lately. Between lack of sleep and Liadrin, well…

“Are you proposing later as in later tonight?” She asked as Liadrin lifted a small, rather colorful
glazed carrot to her mouth. “Because if you think you can get out of talking just by-”

“I want you to stay the night with me in my suite,” Liadrin cut her off as she gave up on the
carrot for now and lowered it back to her plate. “We can go back to chasing your ghosts and
your demons tomorrow. Tonight, I want you in my bed for once.”

Valeera raised both her eyebrows in surprise and swirled her wine in her glass thoughtfully.
“Huh,” she mused as she smiled soft and slow. “Well played.”

“So you'll come?” Liadrin asked, still ignoring her carrot.

“I'm sure I will,” Valeera said in a silky tone that had Liadrin taking another sip of wine just to
relieve herself from the sudden dryness of her mouth.

They managed to finish most of their meal without any further incidents now that Valeera was
dated with the promise of continuing their discussion at some point.

It was nice, Valeera thought as they stood and Liadrin helped her with her cloak that she'd
refused to leave at the door. It was nice to be this way. To be with Liadrin in such a normal,
pedestrian way. There was something almost soothing in how mundane it all was.

At least until she felt a hand on her shoulder that she knew didn't belong to Liadrin.

“Don't the two of you make a lovely couple,” Dar’Khan’s voice was as smooth and easy as
Valeera’s sometimes was, and just as dripping with an utter lack of anything genuine but more
than enough poison. “Hello, Lady Sanguinar. Lady Liadrin.”

His attention shifted from Valeera after lingering there a touch too long, and Liadrin offered him
a stiff smile in greeting.

“Terribly presumptuous of you, Dar’Khan,” Valeera said as she allowed him to step between the
two of them despite how inclined she was to block his path.

“My apologies, Lady Sanguinar,” he crooned as he glanced at the stack of gold on the table and
picked it up to pass it to Liadrin. “Please. Let me make it up to you both. Dinner is on me
tonight. I've already informed the attendant.”

Liadrin looked at the gold for a moment before she took it from and slipped it back into the
pouch on her belt.

“So you knew you would cause offense before you even walked over here,” Valeera observed
dryly. “How very like you.”

“You wound me, Valeera,” Dar’Khan said in a near-purr, leaning close enough that Valeera tilted
her head away, though she covered her own possible rudeness with a playful smirk.

“We should be going now, Master Scryer,” Valeera said. “We both have business to attend to.”

She gave away nothing, and yet even their appearance together had been to much. She could tell
by the look in his eyes. People had always been an open book to her. Well, except Liadrin, who
was standing off to the side observing their exchange silently.

He bowed to them both and excused himself and Valeera was back at Liadrin’s side quickly to
walk with her from the restaurant and out onto the perfectly cobbled and illuminated streets
beyond.

“Are your rooms warded?” Valeera asked as she slid her hands into the pockets of her leather
breeches beneath her cloak.
“Strongly,” Liadrin said with a lingering look in Valeera’s direction. “As strongly as the Queen’s
Chambers.”

“Good,” Valeera murmured, looking down at the tips of her own boots as they passed along the
stones beneath them.

“Valeera did...were you and Dar’Khan…” Liadrin trailed off and cleared her throat. “I don't have
any right to ask that.”

Valeera’s eyes landed on Liadrin. On the stiff set of her shoulders and the slumping of her ears.

“You're jealous,” Valeera said calmly with a barely noticeable smile. “Aren't you?”

“No,” Liadrin said quickly. “I just...no. No not at all. It's just the thought of Dar’Khan of all
people…”

“What?” Valeera prodded. “Touching me? The way that you do?”

Liadrin didn't say anything because she didn't trust herself to. She was surprised to find Valeera’s
hand coming to stroke along the small of her back a moment later. She could barely feel the
touch through her tabard and her undercoat, yet it was so heavy and warm at the same time.
How strange.

“Dar’Khan would've liked for that to have happened. It never did,” Valeera said, not even
having to look around to be sure they were alone. Her senses were too keen for that to be
necessary. He stopped Liadrin walking and moved to stand in front of her.

Liadrin only looked down into Valeera’s eyes as she lifted her hands to rest along the sides of
her neck without even thinking.

“I have no desire at the moment to be touched by anyone but you,” Valeera went on as she took
in the perfection of the few locks of auburn hair that were left free from their tie to frame
Liadrin's face. “How does that make you feel?”

“I don't know,” Liadrin lied, because it made her feel many, many things. She was a terrible liar,
really, and she touched along each side of Valeera’s jaw to make up for it.

“It makes me feel entirely unlike myself,” Valeera said, her words ghosting against the pad of
Liadrin’s thumb as it brushed across her lips. “It makes me feel mad. You give me nothing and it
makes me want you more, as it always has.”

“I don't know what to give you,” Liadrin admitted quietly, and her voice sounded almost jagged.
Her eyes were achingly sad. “I don't know what I have to give.”

“More,” Valeera offered to her as she reached up and wrapped her hands around Liadrin’s wrists.
“There is so much more of you that you tuck away from everyone and everything. From me.”

And I want it all. I want to peel you and consume you. I want to know everything. I want
everything.
Liadrin swallowed and Valeera watched her ears sink further than they already had, but instead
of relenting, she just lifted her hands from Liadrin’s wrists to stroke her hair away from her face
and leaned in to poise her lips so close to Liadrin’s they were almost touching when she spoke.
“What don't you want me to see?”

“I don't know,” Liadrin breathed as her hands slid down the front of Valeera’s body - chasing the
blue glow of the street lanterns down the curves of her until she was drawing her closer with a
hold on her waist.

“Why do you bother lying to me?” Valeera asked once they were pressed together tightly.

“Because it's what we all do.”

Valeera let out a shuddering breath as the truth of those words crashed over her. She couldn't
have pulled away if she'd wanted to right then lest she risk slipping into the river Liadrin had
just opened up beneath them.

“We aren't like them,” Valeera murmured as Liadrin brushed the tip of her nose against hers.
“You don't have to be like them.”

“You would hate me,” Liadrin whispered as her lips parted against Valeera’s and then moved to
the side of her mouth.

“I'm a murderer,” Valeera said so quietly Liadrin almost didn't hear her. “and yet you grace my
bed with your presence and my skin with your touch. I think you are more scared that I might
not hate you. I think the thought of being known and desired, regardless, is more than you can
take.”

Liadrin let out a breath that sounded almost like it hurt and, for a moment, she froze against
Valeera before she slowly lowered her face into her slender shoulder and pressed it into the
softness of her cloak. It only lasted for a second or two before she was composing herself and
pulling away, all flushed ears and skin and faintly trembling hands.

Valeera sighed and let her hands fall from Liadrin but only far enough to take her hands in her
own. She was just about to speak when she felt the hairs along her arms raise in a way that made
her look around and listen a little harder than she had been.

“What is it?” Liadrin asked, doing her best to slough off everything she was currently wading
through.

“Nothing, I think,” Valeera said, though she was still looking up the road in the direction they'd
come from. “Am I still invited to your rooms tonight? I don't think I'd enjoy being in mine alone
right now.”

“I'd prefer it if you weren't,” Liadrin said, and Valeera was thankful for at least that bit of relief.
She didn't risk saying anything more as she led them down a less direct path to the palace
through gardens less favored by the royal family and, thusly, less full of prying ears and eyes.

“I wish you’d mentioned before now that you aren’t opposed to accoutrements.” Valeera said
more to herself than anything as she examined the chest she’d just opened at the foot of
Liadrin’s bed, much to Liadrin’s apparent amusement. Or at least Valeera took the little smile he
the other woman was wearing as she disrobed for ‘amusement’.

“You never asked.” Liadrin countered simply as she hung her undercoat on the same rack her
sword belt now dangled from. Even as she revealed the rest of herself, Valeera was still busy in
the chest opening various silk bags and pushing them aside until she’d settled on an expertly
crafted harness and an equally pleasing attachment.

“That’s fair,” Valeera sighed with a frown that had Liadrin mirroring her teasingly and walking
across the bedroom to her wearing nothing but her scars.

“Are you so sad?” Liadrin asked as she took the harness from Valeera’s hands and leaned down
to tease at kissing her without actually delivering. “Hm? Has the sex been so lackluster as-is?”

Valeera huffed out a breath in response to Liadrin’s teasing, but she didn’t chase after the kiss no
matter how much she wanted it. She wouldn’t. Even if she had to remind herself not to.

“That depends, is my kissing so lackluster that you no longer desire it?” Valeera asked, her
attention shifting from Liadrin’s lips to her eyes.

“No,” Liadrin said with a little smile, and Valeera let out another, much different breath when
she felt the sudden presence of the toy she’d chosen making its way up her inner thigh. “I very
much enjoy kissing you.”

“You should, then,” Valeera encouraged as she glanced down between them to find Liadrin had
already secured the harness while Valeera had been distracted. She was almost impressed.

“I haven’t used this in a while,” Liadrin murmured against Valeera’s cheek before closing her
teeth against it in an almost-bite. In the next moment, she was turning Valeera’s head with a
gentle touch along her jaw and brushing their lips together. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Very,” Valeera reassured as she finally allowed herself to chase since the distance wasn’t so far.
She captured Liadrin’s lower lip with her teeth and then soothed it with another kiss as she
began walking them towards the bed. “I can be patient for this. It’ll be worth it, I think.”

“You should tell me how you like it,” Liadrin urged, and Valeera murmured her appreciation as
Liadrin pressed her down onto the bed and found the crook of her neck with her lips.

“How I like everything else,” Valeera whispered as she gripped Liadrin’s sides. “Unhinged. I
like to see you like that, you know.”

“Does it get you off?” Liadrin asked, spreading Valeera’s thighs confidently and trailing the
attention of her mouth down along the center of her chest.

“You know it does.”

“More than making people want you and leaving them high and dry?” Liadrin pressed just
before she kneaded one of Valeera’s breasts hard enough to leave her gasping. Before she even
had a chance to recover, Liadrin latched onto her nipple and tugged at it languidly with her teeth.
“Fuck,” Valeera’s voice broke as she pressed her chest up into all that Liadrin was giving her.
“Yes. Much more.”

Liadrin let out a huff when she found Valeera’s legs wrapped around her so tightly, suddenly,
that she couldn’t continue her downward path.

“Oh, what’s wrong?” Valeera asked, reaching to lift Liadrin’s chin with her fingertips so she
would look up at her. “You want to taste me? Hm? Is that it?”

“It’s a little early for you to be trying to get a rise out of me, don’t you think?” Liadrin asked, her
hands already moving to Valeera’s legs to dislodge them.

“Never,” Valeera countered. “It’s never too early for that.”

Liadrin paused for a moment before she slipped her hands under Valeera’s thighs to lift them
along her own arms.

“Alright,” Liadrin murmured, moving back up. She didn’t feel like vying for power tonight.
There’d been enough of that outside the restaurant. “You just want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

Even as Liadrin asked, Valeera was pressing her hips up into the pressure of the toy currently
trapped between them as best she could with the way she was pinned.

“You know that’s what I want, why do you need me to say it?” Valeera asked, only barely
managing to keep her voice from wavering.

Liadrin leaned down as she rocked her hips sharply enough that a whimper broke from Valeera’s
throat. She’d never felt so painfully empty as she did in that moment.

“I don’t need you to say it,” Liadrin murmured against her ear. “Just like I don’t need to fuck
you.”

Valeera’s lips quirked into a smirk that she was thankful Liadrin couldn’t see, lest she realize it
was a victorious one.

“I think you do,” Valeera argued as she dug her nails into Liadrin’s back and slowly slid them
down along her ribs. “I think you very much need to fuck me. I think you need to hear the way I
come undone for you. The way I say your name when it’s too much but I still want more. I think
you need all of it.”

“I can’t stand you,” Liadrin huffed against Valeera’s shoulder as she pressed harder down
against her until she could no longer work her hips into what little relief she could find.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Valeera accused breathlessly. “Please, Liadrin.”

“Please what?” Liadrin asked - slowly lifting her hips just enough that she could loop her arm
around and slide her thumb through the wetness between Valeera’s legs and back up to tease
along her clit.

“Liadrin-”
“Say it,” Liadrin snapped as she lifted her head and looked down into Valeera’s eyes.

“You always come so close,” Valeera whispered, pressing a hand against the center of Liadrin’s
chest to feel the way her heart was pounding. “You always come so close to the edge. Aren’t you
tired? Don’t you just want to ruin me? Isn’t that why your hands are shaking? Isn’t that why
you’re so fucking tense? I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me until I can’t stand. Until I
can’t move. I want you to fuck me so deep and so hard neither of us can speak. Is that what you
need to hear? Or do you want me to tell you how badly I-”

Valeera’s lips stayed parted and her brow furrowed sharply as Liadrin suddenly guided the tip of
the toy into her and pressed her hips forward without even the slightest pause - burying herself
to the hilt and leaving Valeera struggling to accept the size and the stretch.

“That’s what I wanted,” Liadrin whispered her praise against Valeera’s shoulder and Valeera’s
hand flew up to the back of her neck as she began rocking her hips almost too soon. Almost.

“What a coincidence,” Valeera did her best to quip in response. “This is what I wanted, too.”

“Believe me, I know,” Liadrin husked as she slowly let Valeera’s legs slide from her arms so she
could lower more of herself on top of her. “You’ve already left a spot on my sheets.”

“What a tragedy,” Valeera managed despite how solidly she was being jarred by Liadrin’s
strong, steady movements.

“They’re silk,” Liadrin husked as she found Valeera’s hands where they were leaving welts
along her sides, pinning them to the bed and drawing a moan from Valeera.

“There’s nothing I like more than ruining good silk,” Valeera was trying to keep up. She really
was. But after that, she was gone. Lost in the way Liadrin was filling her so completely again
and again. Lost in the biting and the bruising grips and all the things about Liadrin that she
strived so hard to bring out.

She was just on the edge of an orgasm when Liadrin suddenly stopped and reached up to grip
her face in her hand, leaving Valeera with little choice but to force her eyes open so she could
look at her in shock and disappointment.

“Fuck you,” Valeera whimpered as Liadrin gave her a single slow, hard grind that had the front
of the harness rubbing against her clit and her thighs trembling. “You knew.”

“I did,” Liadrin agreed. “But you weren’t looking at me.”

She pressed her hips down again. A slow, rhythmic motion that Valeera might have found utterly
flawless in any moment that wasn’t this.

“There you are,” Liadrin said with a smile that showed just enough fang to draw a shudder from
Valeera. “Look at me when you come.”

Valeera was so desperate for relief she didn’t have it in her to fight, and Liadrin watched as a
myriad of emotions flashed in them when she resumed her punishing pace - bringing Valeera
quickly back to the edge and, this time, pushing her past it.
She didn’t stop, though. She held Valeera’s face firmly in her hand as she kept going despite the
protests of her bed and the shaking that had overtaken Valeera’s entire body, because this was
what Valeera wanted. Because this was what she wanted, too.

Valeera had been right, of course. Something inside Liadrin needed these moments of control
and power. Needed the heady feeling that came along with hearing her name become a chant on
Valeera’s lips.

Liadrin went until she couldn’t anymore. Until she’d turned Valeera onto her stomach and drawn
another orgasm out of her all while holding herself up on shaking, tingling arms.

Valeera wasn’t ready to be done, though. She rarely was. Liadrin, on the other hand, was all too
ready for the gentle guidance of Valeera rolling her onto her back and unbuckling the harness
from her hips as she fell between her legs to lay on her chest between them.

She couldn’t manage much else, but this was more than enough for Liadrin.

“You’re so close already,” Valeera panted as she stroked Liadrin’s thigh with one hand and
pressed two fingers of the other into her when she found her soaked.

Liadrin could only groan in response as she gripped the sheets beneath herself so tightly she
could hear them tear. It didn’t matter. They’d ruined them ten times over by now.

“It’s fine,” Valeera breathed - the warmth of the words ghosting over Liadrin’s aching clit. “I
want you to be close.”

Liadrin couldn’t speak. Especially not when Valeera’s lips closed around her and she began
sucking just so. Just the right way, as her fingers curled upward in time with what she was doing
with her mouth.

The sound that came from Liadrin when she came was almost primal in a way that would’ve
taken Valeera’s breath from her if she had any left.

In the end, Liadrin was laying bonelessly beneath Valeera, whose flushed cheek was pressed to
her stomach. That was as far up Liadrin’s body as she’d been able to make it when all was said
and done.

Valeera wasn’t sure if it was the sex or something else that brought them about, but these
moments with Liadrin had quickly become her favorite. She’d learned that Liadrin was prone to
fix her hair for her where it was stuck against her skin. She’d learned that Liadrin liked to be
touched while she came down. She liked when Valeera traced the lines of muscle in her stomach
and her chest, and Valeera was more than happy to do whatever she could to show her
appreciation. Touching was easy when words weren’t.

That was something they shared. Something that drew Liadrin to Valeera, and Valeera to her in
turn.

They didn’t speak again at all. Liadrin silently pushed the sheets away from the bed just to give
them something clean to lay on, and Valeera freed her hair from its tie for her so she could lay
back down more comfortably. With Valeera in her arms settled against her chest. A far cry from
the first night they’d shared together.
It wasn’t enough. Valeera still wanted more, as she always did. She wanted Liadrin’s truth. But
this would do. It would have to.

Valeera woke in a cold sweat. She couldn't breathe. Her eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark, so she
couldn't see.

She blinked furiously in an attempt to clear the blurriness of her vision and tried again to drag in
a breath, and she froze when she realized there was a hand over her mouth. She shuddered when
she realized there was a pair of eyes staring down at her. A weight settled over her body.

She tried to scream as those eyes turned red with fire and the air around her crackled with
energy. As the feeling of flames licking against her skin caused her to writhe in pain while the
now-familiar face above her cracked into a cruel and twisted smile.

The magister’s magic left her skin charred and cracked in its wake as it crawled ever outward
from where his hand hovered over her chest, and she struggled and failed to move. The blood
from the wound in his throat bubbled and gurgled just like it had all those years ago.

This pain was too sharp to be anything but real. Her tears were too wet as they slid down the
sides of her face to be anything but real.

She inhaled sharply through her nose in another attempt to scream, and just as she did - the mage
lights in Liadrin’s bedroom flashed on.

Liadrin stared in shock for a moment as wisps of shadow seemed to fall away from Valeera
when she sat bolt upright in bed, still screaming the same scream that had woken Liadrin in the
first place. A scream of anger and pain and outrage that rocked Liadrin to her core.

Liadrin shook her head to clear her thoughts of imagined things and moved towards Valeera
quickly as the younger woman scrambled towards the edge of the bed and began to tumble to the
floor in her panic.

The second her hands found purchase on Valeera’s arms to keep her from falling - Valeera
pushed them away harshly and pushed herself away as well. She stood next to the bed and
swallowed bile as she looked down at the place where she'd been laying to find it drenched with
sweat and nothing else. No blood. No char.

“Valeera…” Liadrin’s voice was a careful murmur. There was none of the exhaustion from
earlier present in it.

“I had a dream,” Valeera whispered quickly without looking into Liadrin’s eyes even as Liadrin
remembered the shadows that had slipped away from Valeera too quickly for Liadrin to get a
good look at them. “That's all.”

Liadrin’s heart was still pounding in her chest as she moved slowly and cautiously towards the
edge of the bed to reach for Valeera, who allowed herself to be touched now that she could
rationalize this and be rational herself.

Her hand was trembling, though, when Liadrin took it into her own.
“I don't allow dreams in my bed that would scare you so,” Liadrin said quietly, not tugging
Valeera’s hand or urging her closer in any way. “Perhaps I should have told them that before we
went to sleep. But they know, now.”

Valeera still didn't look at Liadrin because she was scared of what the other woman might find in
her eyes if she did.

“I suppose they do,” she breathed, and she let out a shuddering breath as Liadrin traced softly
along her inner wrist with her thumb.

“Come here so that I might do a better job keeping them at bay this time,” Liadrin continued,
and she shifted to sit on the edge of the bed as Valeera stepped towards her to stand between her
legs.

Liadrin lifted her hands and used her palms to wipe Valeera’s skin free of the tears that stained it
without otherwise acknowledging them. She used that same gentleness to pull Valeera down. To
guide her into a slow kiss that she hadn't even realized she was starving for until it was
threatening to swallow her whole and she was gasping into Liadrin’s mouth.

“You can be terrible to me again tomorrow,” Liadrin murmured against Valeera’s lips as her
strong, steady hands found Valeera’s thighs to guide them on either side of her own until Valeera
was straddling her. “Tomorrow is a new day.”

“Thanks, I think I will,” Valeera sighed against Liadrin’s cheek before she found herself pulled
down further until she was laying with her head on Liadrin’s chest while Liadrin pulled the
blankets around them both.

Valeera wasn’t so sure of that, as Liadrin’s fingertips trailed the length of her spine so slowly and
gently Valeera felt tears burning in her eyes. She would have to remind herself. That this was
dangerous. This trust. This feeling of safety. This need.
 The Anchor

“You’ve done so well today, Lady Jaina,” Dar’Khan complimented as he gestured towards a
nearby attendant to clean up the bit of mess that’d been left on the floor of his practice room.
Broken glass. Nothing out of the ordinary. Especially not at the rate they'd been progressing.
“We should break now for lunch and finish our lesson once we've eaten.”

“Quite,” Lireesa agreed with a pleased smile as she pushed herself up from the chair she'd been
observing from. “Lunch sounds ideal. Areiel, would you like to join me?”

Areiel stood even as Lireesa did and followed her from the room. She felt her ears burning but if
Lireesa took note of her emotional state, Areiel couldn't tell. She never could.

“I wasn't lying when I expressed my concerns, Lireesa,” she finally said once they'd found their
way to a small room filled with only a handful of places to sit. An area that had once fed
countless many mages during the breaks they took from their lessons.

It was empty now, save for the two of them. It was always empty. And yet, with Lireesa’s
presence came attention. A desire to serve and to please. Before long, they'd had wine and food
fetched for them without needing to ask.

Lireesa was swirling the wine in her glass even now as Areiel spoke.
“I've no doubt as to what your intentions are, Areiel,” Lireesa stated before taking a much-
needed sip of wine and placing her glass back down. “I, above all others, recognize a facade
when it is being performed in front of me.”

“You believe me, then? About Dar’Khan’s methods?” Areiel wasn't overly interested in food.
She was trying to process this sudden closeness, as well as Lireesa’s willingness to share it with
her.

“I can only believe what I see, Areiel,” Lireesa said as she glanced with little interest at the
platter of bite-sized offerings in the center of the table they shared.

Areiel’s face fell. She felt a fool. The lines between her brows became more prominent when she
frowned, and Lireesa watched all of this from across the table and from a hundred miles away
all at once.

“And so, you will retire to my rooms once I've taken your image, and you will wait for me there
so that no one will see you. I, myself, will observe the second half of their lesson. As you, of
course. So it wouldn't do for you to be seen twice in two different locations.”

Areiel was rather stunned. The morsel of cake she'd finally picked up was still in her frozen
hand as she looked at Lireesa in disbelief.

“Lireesa, the energy required of you to-”

“Is my business and mine alone,” Lireesa snapped, and Areiel set her jaw hard in response.

Lireesa sighed.

“I am just fine, Areiel,” Lireesa said without her prior agitation bleeding into her tone. “Please.
Eat. If there is something happening in these lessons in your presence and not in mine, I will
know it soon enough.”

Areiel nodded, but the worry in her was like poison. Gnawing and hungry and just as unsettling
as the feeling of sitting across from a stranger she had known for eons. A stranger she had loved.
Protected fiercely.

As Lireesa’s hackles lowered, she finally turned her own attention to the food at hand. She was
never hungry anymore, but she knew that sustenance was necessary. Especially ahead of what
she intended to do.

Areiel took this opportunity to look at her, because it was nearly impossible to do so when
Lireesa was looking back. She was so sharp, now. Her jaw. Her cheekbones. And her skin, once
as golden as any elf’s, was pale to the point of lifelessness.

It was strange to watch her. Every action was performed for a purpose. Each movement was a
means to an end, whether it be eating or drinking. Even her ears didn't shift in any way that was
natural.

You are fading.

Lireesa finally looked up. First at Areiel, then around the otherwise empty room. Had those been
thoughts? Words? A feeling, perhaps? She wondered if Areiel had thought that, or if she had,
herself.

“What is it?” Areiel asked, and the confusion in her voice was genuine.

Lireesa looked away.

“I need an anchor,” She said as though nothing had happened. “I can no longer do this without
one.”

Areiel shook the worry off her shoulders and quickly reached into her shirt to lift a pendant from
where it was hidden. An old, old charm of protection that had lost its magic long ago.

Lireesa reached for it and the silver was still warm from where it had been nestled against
Areiel’s skin.

“For you,” Lireesa said with a gentle smile as her fingertips continued working the delicate
silver wire she'd been busy with for most of the evening once Alleria had gone to bed. She could
feel Areiel’s curious gaze on her.

“Alleria would be left to her own devices were it not for your willingness to care for her in my
stead when I am gone. The least I can do is provide you with a little peace of mind to thank you
for helping to avoid whatever chaos she would bring about.”

“What does it do?” Areiel asked as she watched Lireesa’s hands closely in the flickering
firelight.

“Nothing, now. When I am done, it will be a ward. A small one, of course. If it were anything
significant it would draw more attention than it would help you to avoid.”

“I'm not a fan of attention,” Areiel said with a sigh, and Lireesa chuckled softly so as not to
wake Alleria where she slept inside the nearby tent.

“You are a fan of the attention of women. Do not be so bold as to lie to my face.”

Areiel frowned at Lireesa from where she was lounging against the trunk of a tree that was so
thickly branched it had left their little clearing free of snow. A welcome break from their near-
endless winters.

She wanted Lireesa to look at her. To recognize something in her, perhaps. The hurt in her eyes.
The desperation to be seen.

But she wouldn't speak any of those things into the shroud of pain and loss that hung so heavily
around Lireesa, now.

And Lireesa would not look.

“Lireesa?” Areiel nearly reached out to touch her, so alarmed was she by the sudden far-off look
in her eyes and the extreme pressing-back of her ears.

Lireesa blinked and looked down at the charm in her hand.

“This will do,” she whispered, and slipped it over her head. The metal still felt so warm she
feared it might burn the cool skin of her chest where it settled. “Retire to my rooms and I will
join you there as soon as possible.”

“I apologize if you saw something you didn't want to see,” Areiel said softly, looking down at
the table now and tapping her fingertips against it.

“Don’t,” Lireesa said with her best attempt at a smile. It looked pained. It was. “I looked
stunning then, didn't I? There is something so alluring about tragic beauty.”

Areiel felt as though she'd taken an arrow through her ribs.

“I saw more than you knew,” Lireesa continued as she looked at Areiel as though she was
looking right through her.

Areiel then watched in stunned awe as Lireesa stood and, without speaking a single word or
weaving a single rune, changed. Changed to be the flawless likeness of Areiel. From the slightly
uneven stance to the golden adornments on the tips of her boots.

Areiel found the display as unnerving as ever she had, and she excused herself quickly to make
her way down twisting corridors most were unaware of so as to avoid being seen.

Jaina almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her from behind,
but she would recognize Sylvanas’s scent anywhere, so unique was it to her.

“You nearly scared the life out of me,” Jaina complained as she turned in Sylvanas’s arms to
face her, though she wasn't really complaining. “You weren't due back until this evening, I
thought.”

“I arrived early,” Sylvanas explained before leaning in to brush her lips to Jaina’s in a kiss that
lingered in such a way one might've guessed she'd been gone for years instead of only a day.

“I knew you had a lesson today,” Sylvanas murmured against Jaina’s cheek once she brought
their kiss to a halt before it could become more. “I thought I might surprise you with lunch in the
gardens before I report to the council.”

“I would love lunch in the gardens,” Jaina responded quietly as one of her hands found
Sylvanas’s stomach to stroke over it through her tunic. She found she liked to feel the firmness
of it, and it no longer felt so daring to seek it out. “Especially with you.”

“Who else would you have lunch with?” Sylvanas asked with a sly smile. She felt rather like a
strutting peacock every time Jaina touched her like this. Inordinately proud of herself for
possessing attributes Jaina might desire.
“Dozens of people,” Jaina teased with a grin before she gripped Sylvanas’s shirt when she began
to pull away. “One more kiss.”

“One more,” Sylvanas agreed warmly. An easy request. An impossible request to deny.

They made it to the gardens after many more such unspoken requests. It seemed to Sylvanas as
though the floodgates had opened and all Jaina wanted was to kiss her and touch her. And that
was just fine.

They managed to eat, at least. Jaina always had an appetite surrounding her lessons, and
Sylvanas always had an appetite in general. It worked. There were a great many things about
them that worked, really.

“How long do you have before you'll have to return to your studies?” Sylvanas asked as she
peered at Jaina from across the blanket they were sharing in a quiet, secluded corner of the
gardens. Jaina was still reeling from the fact that Sylvanas had somehow managed not only to
arrive home early, but set up an entire picnic all before Jaina broke before her afternoon lesson.

“Not too terribly long,” Jaina said as she carefully moved to mirror the way Sylvanas was laying
on her side with her head propped in her hand. “You are so handsome today.”

A slow smile spread across Sylvanas’s face. A toothy, appreciative grin that was almost as
infectious to Jaina as it was beautiful.

“It's the absence, I think,” Sylvanas said. “That causes you to see me through a lens of passion.”

“You've no idea,” Jaina said quietly as she reached out to touch over Sylvanas’s hand where it
rested between them on the blanket.

There was a warmth in Jaina’s tone that Sylvanas hadn't heard since that night in the baths. A
warmth that spread into herself. That made the full undercurrent of longing she'd been feeling
for weeks sharpen into a fever pitch. She lifted her index finger to run the side of it along Jaina’s
and moved closer to her so that she could reach her free arm out in an offer for Jaina to use it as
a rest for her head.

“I foresee trouble ahead when it comes to focusing on whatever Dar’Khan has planned for this
afternoon,” Jaina murmured as her hand moved from Sylvanas’s own to rest against her chest
now that she could reach it.

“Am I a distraction?” Sylvanas asked even as she stroked the backs of her knuckles along the
soft line of Jaina’s jaw.

“You are currently my favorite distraction,” Jaina said as she watched the way the light of the
sun danced in dapples across Sylvanas’s face. “Much better than books.”

“Would you like another kiss?” Sylvanas asked, finding herself quite distracted as well by the
soft fullness of Jaina’s lips among other things.

“Obviously.”
Sylvanas let out a little breath and shifted closer to Jaina until she found Jaina’s arm wrapping
around the small of her back. Only then did she curve her own arm around Jaina’s head gently to
guide her in and press their lips together. This kiss was much different than their rushed, almost
giddy hallway-kisses. This kiss was all head and tongue and it was languid in a way that only
made Jaina feel all the more frantic for it.

The privacy of this part of the garden was almost assured, yet the slight risk of it all had Jaina’s
senses heightened to a fever-pitch as Sylvanas’s body pressed closer to her own. She
remembered suddenly and vividly what her wife looked like beneath her princely uniform. How
small yet powerful she looked at her most exposed. How much and how desperately she wanted
her and all that she was.

Jaina was more than a little shocked, even so, when she found herself on her back beneath
Sylvanas - pinned between the softness of the grass beneath their blanket and Sylvanas’s slight
weight. She regretted, suddenly, the fact that she'd worn breeches and a shirt today. She was
painfully aware of Sylvanas’s hips between her legs when she spread them. She'd have been glad
to have even less clothing separating them.

She realized quite suddenly that Sylvanas had stopped kissing her in favor of running the bridge
of her nose slowly along her jaw towards her ear, and her next breath trembled terribly at the
sensation.

“I missed you,” Sylvanas whispered just beneath the lobe of her ear. “More than I should have, I
think.”

“Is it improper to miss one’s wife?” Jaina asked, trying and failing miserably at not sounding
breathless. Trying and failing just as miserably to not cling to Sylvanas’s sides in an attempt to
urge her into more. More what, she wasn't at all sure. Just more. “I miss you terribly, now, when
you leave.”

Sylvanas pressed her open lips to the side of Jaina’s neck and slowly closed them with only the
faintest hint of wetness from the tip of her tongue, and Jaina felt as though her skin might crawl
away from her.

“Sylvanas, I…,” Jaina had to stop herself from pleading. It was already enough that she was
lifting her thighs higher against Sylvanas’s hips. It was already enough that her breath caught in
her throat when one of her wife’s hands found the back of her thigh to keep it there. She
responded so quickly to each move Jaina made - both keeping her at bay and swelling like a tide
all at once.

She is a wonderful lover. She must be.

The thought came, unbidden. Like a branch to the face that one didn't see beforehand. Like a fall
down a flight of stairs. The thought that this could be hers, always. It was almost enough to
distract her from the maddening, terrible, throbbing ache between her legs. An ache that had her
nearly lifting her hips with want right there in the gardens.

Sylvanas, perhaps finding some mercy for Jaina then among the haze of her own want, lifted her
head and found Jaina’s eyes with her own.
“I spoke with mother on my way out of the city yesterday morning,” Sylvanas whispered, and
Jaina realized with a sudden pang of pride that she was whispering because she, too, was
breathless. “I explained to her I haven't had the time with you that I might have liked to. That I
get called away far more often than I would like.”

“And what did she say?” Jaina asked hopefully with a hand cradling her wife’s face, her own
more carnal desires suddenly falling to the wayside at the possibility she might have Sylvanas to
herself even a little bit more than she did now. She was far too flustered to find any correlation
between those two things.

“That I might take a week and bring you to the Spires. To the village, there. The village of our
namesake where we first settled. Where I spent my summers as a child. Alleria still stays there
when she is in from the field.”

This seemed suddenly a hundred times more intimate to Jaina than it already had. It was almost
overwhelming, really.

“It's by the sea,” Sylvanas continued quickly, as though Jaina might need more convincing.

Jaina felt her heart lurch, suddenly, at the idea of the sea. Any sea. Of being there with Sylvanas.

“I don't think you have any idea how much I would like that,” Jaina said, her voice breathy and
nearly gone for a myriad of reasons.

Sylvanas let out a sigh that sounded almost like relief and Jaina frowned softly as she ran her
hand from Sylvanas’s cheek up and over her hair.

“You thought I would be opposed?” She asked, and Sylvanas bit her lip as Jaina kept touching
over her hair - even daring to graze her ear now and then. “You are so sure, aren't you, that your
heart was made for breaking?”

Sylvanas looked down between them for a moment before she turned her head to press a kiss
into Jaina’s palm while Jaina watched her closely.

“Only a fool wouldn't learn from past experiences,” Sylvanas murmured against the place she'd
only just kissed. “But I believe in your intentions.”

“I have never in my life wanted so terribly to protect someone who couldn't look any less like
they need protection if they tried,” Jaina said as she moved her hand down the side of Sylvanas’s
neck until it came to rest against her chest. “But I can protect you here. And I will.”

“Sometimes I forget how young you are,” Sylvanas breathed as she finally moved to sit up,
helping Jaina along with her and taking both her hands into her own. “I'm sure you should get
back to Dar’Khan before he has a fit, as he has been known to do.”

“Where I come from, no one is young,” Jaina said as she held onto Sylvanas for a while longer
and then finally stood with a sigh - fixing her clothes so it looked a little less like she'd just been
doing terribly risqué things with her wife in an equally terribly public place. But she would get
used to elves and how they viewed such things, she supposed. Perhaps she already was,
considering how willing she'd been for Sylvanas to strip them both bare right then and there.
“Will I see you tonight for dinner?”
“I should hope so,” Sylvanas said with a smile that Jaina returned.

“Perhaps after our trip to your spires you could move your things into our bedroom,” Jaina
suggested, more than willing to have Sylvanas interpret any and all implications therein.

Sylvanas couldn't help the sudden, quick wandering of her own eyes and Jaina couldn't help her
own laugh in response.

“My poor wife,” Jaina lamented as she leaned in to press a quick kiss to her cheek. “So noble.”

“Areiel,” Dar’Khan greeted, his attention turning away from his recently-returned pupil
momentarily. “So nice of you to join us again. I don't know how I would get by without you.”

To Jaina, it seemed like playful banter. Lireesa had known Dar’Khan long enough to know
otherwise.

“Wouldn't miss it.”

Areiel’s lackadaisical tone felt strange coming out, but Lireesa had known her, too, long enough
to know what she might have said. To know the tone she'd have used.

Dar’Khan offered her a sickly sweet smile and looked back at Jaina. “So, you finished the book
I gave you last week, yes?”

“The book on portals?” Jaina asked. “Or the one on mirror images?”

Lireesa looked through Areiel’s eyes at them both in disbelief, but her expression remained
unchanged.

“Both,” Dar’Khan clarified with a chuckle. “But I want to focus on portals for our afternoon
lesson. I'm certain you remember the signatures of the ones I created for your wedding
entourage. They were quite...extravagant. I want you to recall those signatures and replicate
them on a much humbler scale.”

Jaina thought hard for a moment as she looked across the room to where Dar’Khan was
suddenly pointing.

“I want the exit just there. In sight. A simple enough spell, especially when you can see the place
that you are going to.”

Jaina swallowed thickly when she found her throat very dry, suddenly. This was dangerous
work. Even she knew that.

Lireesa was equally nervous as she examined Areiel’s nails from the sidelines to hide the anxiety
she was feeling.

Her stomach lurched when Jaina reached for the reserves necessary to perform such a feat, even
one so small as this.
She nearly stopped breathing when she recognized just what Jaina had tapped into. Lireesa could
feel the Sunwell no matter where she was. Its signature was unmistakable. And for Jaina to be
able to access it at so young an age...at such an early point in her teaching…

Especially when its strength was but a shadow of what it had once been.

The portal Jaina opened wasn't stable. Lireesa could tell that much by the sickly feeling it thrust
into her by virtue of its very existence.

“Tighten it up,” Dar’Khan ordered, instead of shutting it down instantly. “Now.”

Lireesa nearly exposed herself in her shock.

There was a sheen of sweat on Jaina’s brow as she reigned in the tendrils of magic that had gone
into her creation.

Lireesa would have helped her. She would have guided those unsure outreaches of power with
her own skill and confidence.

Dar’Khan let her flounder. He let her work herself into a sweat until the portals’ edges stabilized
and the images in the centers of them clarified.

“Good,” Dar’Khan said as he examined her work with his arms crossed over his chest. “Now. I
want you to send a mirror image through that portal. It shouldn't be draining your energy any
longer now that it's stabilized. Re-focus yourself. Send yourself outward.”

Jaina took a breath and centered.

Lireesa watched in disbelief as a second Jaina appeared. Transparent and wavering, but there,
nonetheless.

The false Jaina moved unnaturally towards the portal as the real Jaina watched it closely, her
shoulders set hard and square. Lireesa could tell her jaw was clenched so tightly it would likely
hurt for the rest of the day, and she felt agitation bubbling up in her chest.

The image made it through the portal and evaporated almost immediately, and, all at once,
Jaina’s energy was spent and the portals both collapsed.

Instead of collecting the energy for her neatly and guiding it in a way that was safe, Dar’Khan
let it rush back to her all at once.

The experience left Jaina reeling as her tutor watched impassively.

Lireesa was having a difficult time controlling herself.

“You feel rather ill at the moment, I'm guessing?” Dar’Khan asked with a frown and a tone that
was almost convincingly concerned, were Lireesa not aware he could've helped Jaina to avoid
all of this entirely.

“I'm fine,” Jaina gasped from where she was doubled over. She pushed herself up to her full
height very slowly as her head continued to spin. “I'm sorry, I-”
“No need for apologies. It was important for you to learn that no matter how exhausting a spell
is, you must recall it with the same care you used in its creation. There was no better way to
teach you. However, I do think we should cut the lesson a touch short today. You need to get
some rest or you are going to have a terrible headache come morning.”

Lireesa forced her breaths to stay steady as the lesson ended and she moved to stand. Standing
was odd. She wasn't used to the prosthesis and she was even less used to being this weak. To
being in this much pain.

“Going so soon, Areiel?” Dar’Khan asked as Jaina gathered the new books she'd been tasked
with reading over her short holiday with Sylvanas. “I rather thought you might like to join me
for dinner.”

Lireesa’s stomach nearly turned again as she shot Dar’Khan a look that was entirely within
Areiel’s character. She thought Areiel might normally walk Jaina to her rooms or wherever it
was she chose to go. But she couldn't. She could scarcely make it through the door and down the
hallway before her vision began to tunnel and her breathing grew more and more shallow.

It was the anger. The shock. The flood of thoughts and emotions on top of keeping Areiel’s
appearance using her own dwindling reserves that had her leaning against her own chamber
doors without the strength to open them. Thank god the guards paid Areiel little notice, or they
might have come for her from the end of the corridor to aid her in her clear distress.

The real Areiel heard the thud against the heavy door and the fruitless movements of the heavy
golden knob and she rushed towards those sounds quickly.

Her ears were still keen enough, even in her old age, to hear the heavy, ragged breaths coming
from the other side. Breaths that sounded like her own.

She opened the door in just enough time to pull Lireesa inside as the glamour faded and a very
pale, very fragile-looking queen lost her footing and nearly fell to the floor.

“Lireesa,” Areiel hissed as she tugged the woman into her arms and kicked the door shut behind
her. “By the light of the sun what have you done to yourself?”

“He's allowing her access to the Sunwell,” Lireesa gasped, her wild eyes scouring her room for
something even as they still shifted from the bright, brilliant blue of Areiel’s to an almost
colorless silver. “She hasn’t even seen the Sunwell. She has no idea what she is communing
with. She has no...she cast a mirror image. She opened a portal. He-”

“I know,” Areiel said firmly as she tightened her arms around Lireesa to keep her still while she
walked her towards the couch. “I know these things. I just needed you to see them with your
own eyes.”

Lireesa had no strength left in her, now, to fight her way out of Areiel’s arms to get the journal
and pen she’d been eyeing from across the room. She could scarcely remember, suddenly, what
she'd even wanted to write in it.
“I can't…” Lireesa clenched her teeth against those words as Areiel helped her lay down along
the sofa. She clenched them like the door of a prison cell against the whimper of pain that she
refused to let out. Against admitting to defeat, however temporary.

“No,” Areiel agreed sternly. “You can't, and you won't. Whatever it was you were planning to
say or do can wait. Are your teas where you used to keep them?”

“Wine,” Lireesa whispered. “Mana.”

“Tea first,” Areiel warned. “Tea first to settle your stomach, and then wine.”

Lireesa looked as though she might have popped Areiel’s head with a mere thought, then. She
could have done so easily once upon a time.

As it was, Areiel’s expression softened as she watched the rapid rising and falling of Lireesa’s
chest.

“I'll be quick,” Areiel said as she reached out to grip Lireesa’s shoulder warmly. “On both fronts.
Stay awake, Lireesa. I beg of you.”

Areiel cursed her lack of magic as she waited nervously for the water to boil in the kettle she'd
found. She might have given Lireesa the tea crushed in cold water if she'd thought she could
stomach it. But it was harsh and bitter, this blend. Used by powerful mages to counteract
sickness from the use of vast amounts of power. Or, in this instance, very little power, really. But
vast in the scope of things. Vast for Lireesa.

She was so anxious by the time the brew was done, she nearly spilled it as she poured it. Her
always-steady hands nearly failed her. In the end, she made it to the sofa just as Lireesa began to
lose her grip on consciousness.

“No,” Areiel said in a rushed, hurried tone as she reached for the back of Lireesa's head with one
hand to lift it even as she brought the rim of the teacup to her lips. “No, you stay right here with
me and you drink this.”

Lireesa didn't even flinch at the taste. She downed it as though she was dying of thirst, if only
because she could already smell the wine Areiel had brought along with her.

As soon as she got the tea down, the sickness abated enough for the room to stop spinning. She
became acutely aware that Areiel was touching her in a way that was painfully intimate. She
became just as aware that Areiel’s eyes were glistening with something she absolutely did not
want to see.

She didn't ask for the wine, again. Areiel gave it to her willingly.

Lireesa wanted to pour the entire glass down her own throat. She wanted to demand the rest of
the decanter. It was only her iron will that stopped her. Only her stubborn refusal to display even
a single second more of weakness.

Once the glass was gone and some of the scant color Lireesa yet possessed returned to her
cheeks, Areiel removed her hand and dipped her head away quickly when the first tear nearly
broke free.
Areiel cursed under her breath and pulled away from the queen.

“A pillow,” she said quickly in an attempt to distract. “I'll get you a pillow. And a blanket. Are
you cold?” Areiel asked as she rushed across the room.

Lireesa watched her through heavy-lidded eyes. She missed nothing and acknowledged just as
much.

“I am always cold, now,” Lireesa whispered past dry lips.

Areiel swallowed past the lump in her throat as she limped across the room with a blanket and a
pillow clutched in her arms.

“Your construct,” Lireesa husked, suddenly realizing just how much effort it was taking Areiel
to walk and then just to kneel beside her and lift her head again to make space for the pillow.

Areiel’s face smoothed into a mask of passivity now that the focus had been shifted onto herself,
and she avoided Lireesa’s piercing gaze in favor of spreading the blanket along the length of her
body.

“Areiel,” Lireesa urged, and she reached out to catch Areiel’s wrist in her hand.

It shocked Areiel into silence for a moment. The touch. The way Lireesa had said her name. It
had seemed so human. So real.

“This is the last thing you have the energy for right now, Lireesa,” Areiel sighed. “This facade.”

She finally looked into the Queen's eyes, then. She found relief there, and that relief might have
hurt long ago. It was expected, now.

“I've sent Sylvanas and Jaina away to the spires for a time,” Lireesa said once the moment had
passed. “I'll need an hour or so to recover. After that, send me Valeera. Be sure that no one
knows of her coming.”

“The last thing that child needs is a lesson in discretion when it comes to her work,” Areiel
drawled as she pulled herself up onto her feet and dragged a nearby chair even closer to Lireesa
before she plopped down in it. “She saves up all her discretion for her work, actually. And has
none in any other area.”

Lireesa nearly laughed at Areiel’s succinct observation before she sobered at the realization that
Areiel wasn't leaving.

“No, I'm not going anywhere,” Areiel said in response to a request that she wasn't even going to
give Lireesa the space to make. “When you've rested I'll fetch Valeera for you. But I wouldn't
leave you like this for all the real retirement in the kingdom, nor would I send a guard to stay
with you. I wouldn't allow anyone to see you like this.”

Lireesa knew Areiel was right. She felt even colder than she usually did at the realization.

All she could do, really, was turn onto her side and face away from her and attempt to shut her
eyes for a time. She likely wouldn't sleep. She rarely did. But the rest gave the tea time to curb
the splitting pain in her head, and it gave the mana from the wine time to seep into vast,
insatiable emptiness in her.

Areiel ached to reach for her. She ached to the depths of her being to offer her comfort. She
wished she could reach through time and run her hands along the back of a woman who might
have wanted such things. She wished she could share her own warmth. She wondered if it might
cut through the ice. Begin to thaw it.

She knew it would not.

“I can feel your eyes on me,” Lireesa said quietly after a while, her voice muffled by the pillow
her mouth was half-pressed into. “And your concern is heavy in the room. It is unwanted.
Unneeded. I am fine, and I will continue to be fine.”

“Of course,” Areiel said without hesitation, and she looked away.

To her surprise, Lireesa rolled onto her other side so that she was facing her and held out a hand.

Areiel reached out blindly. Unknowingly. Only to find her charm returned to her. It was cool in
the warmth of her palm from where it had rested against Lireesa’s skin.

Areiel ran her thumb slowly along the delicately woven silver in her hand. It was a wonder to
her that Lireesa had managed to acquire it. Payment, perhaps, for the types of services she
provided.

Slowly, her eyes drifted across the campfire to where Lireesa was staring off into the night. The
sight never failed to steal her breath from her. The wildness of her hair as dark as the night she
looked into. The steel in her eyes. The razor’s edge of her jawline.

Lireesa's ear shifted in her direction, and Ariel didn't miss the little flicker of an almost-smile.

“What are you looking at, Areiel?” Lireesa asked as though she didn't know.

“You,” Areiel responded simply.

“Tell me, then, what you see.”

“The way the firelight dances in your eyes while you watch,” Areiel said softly. “The way you
look when you are looking for something that will not come. It makes you look far away. From
this time. This place.”

The little smile was gone.

“Do you know, Lireesa, how you look? Like no one and nothing else ever has and ever will?”

Lireesa turned and focused her attention solely on Areiel and it was too much, just as it always
was.

“It is the power,” Lireesa said. “That which lies just beneath what you gaze upon that causes
your eyes to linger so.”
“It is not,” Areiel breathed with a sigh. “Though for most it is, I will admit. And it must be
easier for you to believe that is true for me as well.”

Lireesa faltered for a moment. Her lips parted and closed again.

“Perhaps it is,” she finally whispered.

“Then I will strive to look upon you in fear and awe for all of my days,” Areiel said with a
playful little smile.

Lireesa thought, as she watched that smile and watched Ariel recline back against her tree
stump and look towards the tent where Alleria still slumbered, that Areiel would be terribly easy
to love.

She would be terribly easy for someone else to love.

 To See

Alleria walked around their camp inspecting each tent as carefully as the last. There were very
few tents, considering they were a dozen rangers in number. The rest were in the trees.
Watching. Ever watching.

There were no fires tonight. They were too close to the border. A shame, considering how far the
cold had begun to creep.

It took far too long for Alleria’s liking to find herself satisfied tonight. Usually, she had patience
for such things. Tonight, Verana was back. Tonight, the last thing she wanted was to be looking
over tent pegs and canvas patches.

She checked her watchers next with little clicks that sounded as much a part of the forest as a
small brush animal or a cracking twig. Clicks that came back to hear - each slightly different.
Each belonging, distinctly, to its watcher.

Alleria drew in a slow, deep breath. They were only a day away from the next stone. She wasn't
holding out any hope for its condition. Not with how cold it was tonight.

But she would not be cold.

That much was clear as she noticed movement from the corner of her vision. A flash of blue
eyes. A smile.

She followed like a sailor entranced by a siren. She followed a trail very few might have been
able to track in the pitch black of the forest. Especially one left by a ranger so skilled as Verana.

When she lost it, she knew she was drawing near.

“My love, you are losing your touch in your old age.”

Alleria nearly shivered at Verana’s tone. The confidence of it. The low, sultry quality.

She turned slowly to find Verana smiling at her and she realized too late she'd positioned herself
perfectly to be backed into the nearest tree. Or perhaps it had been Verana doing the positioning.

“Perhaps I grew tired of chasing you,” Alleria said as Verana ran her hands along her sides
beneath her fur-lined cloak and pressed against her slowly. “Perhaps I wanted to be caught
instead.”

“Caught you,” Verana teased as Alleria wrapped her arms around the small of her back. “I
scouted a hot spring nearby. Does this interest you?”

“Very much,” Alleria murmured as Verana pulled away slowly and reached up to stroke over the
hood of Alleria’s cloak, wishing instead to be tangling her fingers in the wild waves of hair
beneath it.

“I missed you, Alleria. I've been going mad riding with you all day, you know.” Verana’s voice
was suddenly so soft and tender that Alleria’s brow furrowed as she gripped the front of
Verana’s thick doe skin tunic.

“And I, you,” Alleria breathed. “Your wounds?”

“Healed fully,” Verana reassured with an equally reassuring smile. “Just a few new scars.”

“For me to worship with my lips,” Alleria countered.

“I am only trying to catch up to you,” Verana murmured teasingly, and Alleria smirked.

“And if I cede the victory of this non-existent competition to you, will you stop getting hurt?”
Alleria asked.

“I will do my best for you, my Sun.” Verana said with such sincerity Alleria couldn't help but
know beyond a shadow of a doubt she'd meant it.

They made it to the spring eventually. They were few and far between of late, and Alleria found
this one to be a pleasant and much-welcomed surprise. She preferred these so much to the ones
in the palace. Surrounded by nature. Glowing ever so gently with natural magic. Magic that
illuminated Verana’s face beautifully when Alleria turned her attention from the smooth rocky
pool back to her.
“You look at me as though you like me,” Verana teased as she reached for Alleria and pulled her
close. “Might that be the case?”

Even as she spoke, she pressed Alleria’s hood back away from her hair and her ears. She paid
special attention to the golden leaf that hung from one of them. Even spared it a gentle touch that
brought a fond smile to Alleria’s lips at the acknowledgment.

“I might be fond of you, imp,” Alleria chided as Verana guided them closer to the pool and all
the comfort of warmth it offered as she unlatched Alleria’s cloak from the places where it was
fastened against the light armor that adorned her chest.

“‘Imp’”, Verana mocked, “As though I’m one of those young things you sometimes-”

Alleria kissed her before she could finish.

“Yes. Imp.”

Alleria kissed her again, and Verana couldn’t help the amused laugh that bubbled up in her as a
result.

“And you are as young as ever you were.”

“Tell that to my smile lines,” Verana whispered against Alleria’s lips as Alleria finally began
working on getting them both a little less heavily-dressed.

Alleria’s lips curled into a smile and she leaned just enough to press a kiss between the corner of
Verana’s eye and her temple.

“You are stunning,” She whispered against the barely visible wrinkles there. “Each and every
one of you.”

“Oh, by the Sun, Alleria,” Verana sighed and gave Alleria’s hair a gentle tug. “Your tongue
could be put to better uses than seducing me. You’ve seduced me a thousand, thousand times
over by now.”

“And I’ll seduce you a thousand more times,” Alleria challenged as she stepped out of her
breeches. “As long as you’ll let me.”

“Get in the pool,” Verana urged as she pressed her palms over Alleria’s breasts to ease the sting
of chill against them.

Alleria hummed low in her throat and pulled back just enough to admire Verana’s now-naked
form before she sighed and glanced towards the edge of the pool. She slipped into it gracefully
and Verana wasn’t far behind - quickly and easily guiding Alleria to the edge where she found a
natural ledge beneath the water to sit.

All too easily, they fell into normalcy. Verana found her way between Alleria’s legs and Alleria
wrapped them around her hips and slung her arms over her shoulders. They kissed and stayed
close until the warmth of the water and the warmth they were sharing was enough. Until Alleria
was panting breathlessly against Verana’s ear as her hand worked slowly and rhythmically
between her thighs - drawing her first orgasm from her like they had all the time in the world.
What they lacked in time, though, they made up for in the way they knew each other. In the way
they’d known each other for so very long.

They made up for it over and over until they became far too water-logged to continue and finally
had to admit defeat and head back towards camp, and the meager shelter of Alleria’s tent.

What it lacked in warmth, it made up for in closeness, and after making the journey shamelessly
naked, even what little warmth it didn't lack was truly a blessing. But getting back into the fur-
lined clothing they'd taken to wearing this far out on the border would've been a disaster
considering they were both still damp even now.

“Come here,” Verana urged as she pulled a clean undershirt from her pack and reached for
Alleria’s shivering form. Instead of dressing her, she used it to dry her, and Alleria waited,
patient and still, until Verana was satisfied.

“Better?” Verana asked with her lips against Alleria’s temple while she drew their lone blanket
around them. They traveled light. All of them did. Long gone were the magically packed packs
and the enchanted canvas on each and every tent for either warmth or coolness depending upon
the season. And so, they relied on each other, now.

“Better,” Alleria reassured into the darkness. “It's good to have you back, you know.”

“I am only sorry that you had to be in the city to check on my well-being,” Verana lamented as
she ran her hand along Alleria’s back slowly while they both seemed to make the simultaneous
unconscious decision to lay down on their sides - Alleria with her back to Verana’s chest so she
could be held like always.

“Don't apologize for that,” Alleria breathed, finding Verana’s hand against her stomach and
giving it a squeeze.

“Did Drathir give you any trouble this time around?” Verana asked against Alleria’s hair.

Alleria didn't respond, and Verana slipped her hand free from Alleria's grip to stroke upward
along the front of her body until she was holding her around her chest. The feeling was even
safer. Even more secure.

“He's been bold of late,” Alleria said, but her voice was uncharacteristically weak.

“Say what you would say to no one else but me,” Verana coaxed. “I can hear the trouble in your
voice, and there it will remain until you set it free.”

“He told me I have my mother’s eyes,” Alleria said the words and they felt like knives spilling
from her mouth. Like snakes slithering from her tongue and flames licking at her lips and
spreading forth along her body.

She was so distracted she didn't even realize Verana had stopped breathing for a beat or two
before she carefully pulled Alleria’s shoulder so that she was facing her.

“Would you look at me?” Verana asked, and Alleria did. Just in time for Verana to stroke away a
few tears just as they fell.
“I would put an arrow in his heart if you would only let me,” Verana murmured as she looked
into Alleria’s eyes and the vivid blue glow of them - glazed slightly by as-yet unshed tears. “And
you stubbornly refuse.”

Alleria laughed softly and weakly and tangled her legs with Verana’s within their already
tangled blanket. “It would cause an incident.”

“He deserves an incident,” Verana whispered, pressing a kiss to Alleria’s forehead. “He has no
right.”

“He believes otherwise, but we are here and he is there.” Alleria countered simply, but she
pressed a quick kiss to Verana’s lips as a consolation, and Verana sighed into their kiss as it
continued and grew deeper.

Sylvanas’s face brightened as Jaina came through the door of their suite despite how tired she
was. The day had been long. Full of briefings and council meetings and a hundred other things
she could scarcely focus her thoughts on knowing she and Jaina were finally going to have some
real time together.

She stood from her seemingly endless stack of parchments and forgot about them quickly in the
face of Jaina’s tired smile. In just a few short steps, Sylvanas had Jaina in her arms and a hand
on the back of her head when Jaina pressed her face into the crook of her neck.

“How was the rest of your lesson?” Sylvanas asked in a murmur as she rocked them back and
forth slowly.

“Exhausting,” Jaina breathed in a sigh, and Sylvanas’s brow furrowed as a familiar scent finally
registered. She felt the hairs rise up along her arms as she pulled back and slid her hands to
Jaina’s arms to look at her.

“So terrible?” She asked. “What did you work on this afternoon?”

“Portals and mirror images,” Jaina said with a little too much nonchalance for the sudden drop
Sylvanas felt in her stomach. “I’m not very good at the mirror images. I’ll get there. I think. I
hope.”

Jaina faltered for a moment as she felt Sylvanas’s hands slip away from her and realized the
expression on her face was far from normal. Far from the expression of someone who was
listening passively.

“...What?”

“You are working on portals?” Sylvanas asked, reaching for Jaina’s hand quickly - more to
reassure herself than anything. That Jaina was here. Safe and whole.

“I am, yes. Simple ones. From one side of the room to the other. Is...Sylvanas, is something
wrong?”

Sylvanas unclenched her jaw and tried her best to relax her ears from where they’d slanted
downward, though it was a rather fruitless endeavor.
“Decades,” Sylvanas responded with a shake of her head and a drop of her eyes. “It...it used to
take decades for our mages to learn something so advanced. You don’t have the reserves. It isn’t
possible. Which can only mean that it is the Sunwell I smell on you.”

“The Sunwell?” Jaina asked in confusion. Confusion was becoming a common theme for her
over the short duration of this conversation.

Sylvanas sighed and looked away from her wife for a moment before her eyes fell shut. She
looked so pensive that Jaina couldn't help but be drawn to her, the need and desire to comfort
was so great.

“Have I done something wrong?” Jaina asked as she reached out to find the side of Sylvanas’s
face with her hand so she could cradle it and urge her to look at her once more.

Sylvanas took the opportunity to kiss her palm before she met Jaina’s gaze with furrowed brows.

“Of course you haven't. I think you're the only one who hasn't done something wrong. Out of all
of us. I know we have much to do tonight to be ready to leave in the morning, but would you
walk with me?”

“I would walk with you anywhere,” Jaina said, her tiredness all but forgotten over the past
moments. “But where would we walk tonight?”

“To the Sunwell,” Sylvanas said, reaching for Jaina’s wrist to hold onto it as she ran the pad of
her thumb along the inside of Jaina’s forearm. “There are things you should know. Things I
wasn't aware it would be necessary for me to tell you. But I wouldn't have you walking blindly.
Fumbling in the dark. I know that feeling, and if I can stop you from feeling it, I will.”

Jaina felt a heaviness settle over her, yet she nodded anyway, and silence came upon them while
Sylvanas found a coat to button over her silk shirt. Even now, she wouldn't be seen without such
visual signals. Yet when Jaina offered to change, her offer was hushed away by a quick kiss and
a slightly slower hug before Sylvanas led them from their rooms and took them on a path Jaina
hadn't yet been on.

A strange and confusing path that led almost to Lireesa’s rooms before it cut in a different
direction down a corridor Jaina had never noticed. It struck her as odd she'd never noticed it
considering how many times she must have passed by.

The presence of guards grew heavier, now. There were two at every turn, at least. They were
unmoving. Not even a smile was spared for either of them despite their status. They looked
almost like statues as a result, and Jaina walked a touch closer to Sylvanas.

“They are only people,” Sylvanas reassured. “Just like us. It is only that they are on duty, and
they have perhaps the most important duty in the kingdom.”

“It's good that they take it so seriously, then,” Jaina remarked as she hooked her hand around
Sylvanas’s arm when it was offered to her. She found the action so familiar, now, that she
couldn't help but be comforted by it.

“They have no choice. Liadrin would have their heads otherwise.”

Jaina glanced at one of them in passing and realized the colors he was wearing were, in fact,
similar to those that Liadrin wore. She'd known Liadrin was important, yet she seemed a dozen
times more so, now. All of this seemed so incredibly important, really. Even Sylvanas’s stoicism.

It made Jaina nervous to the point where it had become almost comical. She couldn't imagine
something commanding this level of pomp and circumstance.

She couldn't imagine it all the way up until the point where the downward spiral of their journey
suddenly opened up into a room so vast it might have been an architectural wonder if Jaina had
time right then to wonder about such pedestrian things. She did not.

Her breath had been stolen from her and her heart had stopped beating. She was sure of it. She
was sure she couldn't exist in the same room as something so...well. There weren't words, really.
Not for this. Not for this pool of liquid arcane as big as a small lake encircled by glowing golden
runes inlaid into the very floors. So bright was its glow that it bathed the entire chamber in light.
So strong was its pulse of power that Jaina nearly felt sick with it.

In fact, she felt very sick with it.

Shield your mind, child. You are like an open book to me even from here. Shut your pages at
once.

Jaina was too panicked to do anything but attempt just that. The visual helped immensely, and
suddenly - the feelings she'd been battling against became warm and welcoming and pleasant
instead of, well. Something that might tear her very mind to shreds.

It was only then that she realized Sylvanas had stopped walking. Only then that she realized
she'd heard the queen’s own voice in her mind just now.

She scanned the room again quickly and was suddenly very aware of a pair of silver eyes resting
upon her from a bench across the way. A bench that was shadowed by one of the many curtains
this kingdom seemed so fond of.

Jaina felt as though she was trapped in the middle of some strange stand-off between Sylvanas
and her mother. She had never seen Lireesa like this. So still and silent and...oh, she looked so
terribly tired sitting there. So worn.

Yet, a few moments later, the queen stood from her bench with absolute grace and turned from
them.

She left without even tilting her head in Jaina’s direction. Without ever even truly
acknowledging them aside from the much-appreciated warning about her shields.

“She comes here often,” Sylvanas explained quietly. “More often, now.”

“Why?” Jaina asked, both sounding and feeling a little breathless.

Sylvanas drew in a very slow, very deep breath and then swallowed thickly.

“Sit with me.”

“Of course…”

The heels of Sylvanas's boots seemed so strangely loud even over the hum of power from the
Sunwell as Sylvanas led them to a bench like the one Lireesa had been sitting upon.

Jaina was aware of the cold clammy quality of her own hands, yet Sylvanas seemed unbothered
by that when she took one of them into her own.

“The Sunwell is the font of our power. The reason for all of this. Our long, long years. The
magic that you see in every little thing. The magic Dar’Khan had you access today. Foolishly.”

“Foolishly?” Jaina asked quietly, and when she looked at Sylvanas she found something strange
about her features in the light of the font of power that commanded the room. She wondered if
she looked the same. “It...it does seem like more power than any one person should
ever...Sylvanas, I'm afraid this is all rather confounding to me. I'm trying so terribly hard to
understand.”

“Not too long ago, Jaina, it likely would have killed you to access this place without years of
training. The power here was unmatched by anything in this world. It was nearly unbearable
even to be in this room. Even as a mage. I can vouch for that much.”

Jaina was terribly concerned this wasn't the end of what Sylvanas had brought her here to tell
her, and she was already on the verge of losing her grasp on any of this.

“A mage?” She asked, her tongue feeling thick and clumsy in her mouth.

Sylvanas was staring into the light of the well and Jaina wondered how she managed to do so
without blinking. Without her eyes watering from the blaze of it.

“All of my mother’s children were born like her. Even Vereesa had no small amount of magic
upon her birth, despite the Sunwell having already begun to dim by then. And now...now it is but
a shadow. Those lesser-gifted mages are no longer even capable of parlor tricks. Those like
myself can activate our own lights. Our own wards. Nothing more.”

“But your mother? Dar’Khan?”

“My mother is drained every moment of every day,” Sylvanas sighed helplessly. “The Sunwell
is…of her. They are tethered, as they have been since the moment of its creation. Since the
moment she created it. She can still bend some of its power to her will, at great personal cost.
Just as she can call upon her own reserves. An even more costly alternative.”

Sylvanas steadied herself and continued on lest she lose her courage before Jaina had a chance
to understand.

“And Dar’Khan is a mystery. He claims not to know why he is unaffected when every other
member of the kingdom save precious few are. He claims to be unable to help stabilize the
Sunwell, much less restore it.”

Sylvanas finally tore her eyes from the subject of their conversation and focused them on Jaina.
“There hasn't been a child born with our gift in many years,” Sylvanas said with very little
strength in her voice. “You were the first. And we have no idea why.”

“Then…” the wheels in Jaina’s head turned a million miles a minute as fear sank into the pit of
Sylvanas’s stomach and turned into a cold, sickening knot.

“Then I’m going to help,” Jaina finally settled on rather adamantly, and Sylvanas nearly fainted
with relief.

“You seem surprised,” Jaina said as she tightened her hold on her wife’s hand.

“I...I didn't want you to think I was…using you, I suppose.”

“I have no doubt we are both being used to some degree. As are most children of nobles.
Fortunately, we've found something rather beautiful within the necessity of it all, haven't we?”

Sylvanas lowered her head and her entire demeanor changed. As though she'd been pressing
against something all this time. Holding out a flood that she had no real hope of keeping at bay.

“Is a marriage not a partnership here?” Jaina asked quietly as she shifted closer and reached up
to stroke a hand through the silver-blonde locks of Sylvanas’s hair that had fallen from over her
shoulder. “It seems like it would be. I want it to be.”

“I am...I don’t know how to handle the way that I love you,” Sylvanas whispered suddenly
without looking up. “I am terrified of the way that it makes me want to keep you safe from
everything. From this. From us.”

Jaina felt her mouth go dry as Sylvanas sat there, all of her usual regality fallen to the wayside to
be replaced by a heartbreaking display of vulnerability. Or perhaps a plea.

“You are the very last thing in this world that I want to be kept safe from,” Jaina breathed as she
leaned closer - tentatively trying to urge Sylvanas to do the same.

It was all Sylvanas could do just to press her forehead against Jaina’s shoulder, but that was
enough.

“I might be terrified of the way that I love you, as well, if I had the sense to be,” Jaina admitted
in a breathy voice as she lifted her hand to the back of Sylvanas’s neck under her hair. She was
always so warm there. “As it stands, I would do anything in my power to help you. To help
your...our people.”

Sylvanas nodded and finally found the strength to sit upright again, though Jaina noted there was
still a sadness about her. It made her seem so very real.

“Sylvanas…” Jaina trailed off and her lips parted and closed again as Sylvanas finally returned
her full attention to her. “Is your mother dying?”

Sylvanas looked at her for so long Jaina nearly had to look away. But then, she couldn't in the
end. She couldn't bring herself to.

“I don't know,” Sylvanas whispered.

“Does she know?” Jaina pressed, though she softened her own prying by guiding her wife’s
hand into her lap to hold it in both of her own.

Sylvanas looked over to the place where Lireesa had been sitting, and her gaze lingered there. “I
don’t know.”

“It suddenly seems quite silly for us to take a week to ourselves knowing all of this,” Jaina said
after a long stretch of silence passed between them, and Sylvanas looked over at her with a
frown.

“Nothing happens quickly here, Jaina. A week is insignificant. A week is a second. Even less
than that. My mother suggested this herself, you know. And she often has her reasons.”

“I won't complain, then,” Jaina acquiesced. “I could use a week alone with you to sort through
all of this and to just be, for once.”

“As could I,” Sylvanas agreed, and for the first time in what felt like ages to Jaina, she smiled.

“My Lady,” Valeera greeted, standing quickly from where she'd been waiting in Lireesa's parlor.
She'd let herself in upon her arrival just as she'd been told by Areiel. It wouldn't do for someone
to see her lingering in the corridors when Lireesa had expressly requested discretion.

“Forgive my lack of punctuality, Valeera,” Lireesa said as the door shut behind her of its own
accord and she made her way past Valeera entirely towards a decanter of fortified mana wine
that was always kept filled for her. She poured them both a glass and left one on the tray for
Valeera before she moved to sit in a nearby chair.

Valeera reached for the glass that had been left for her as she eyed Lireesa warily. Curiously. She
didn't bother responding to the apology. It hadn't really been an apology. Just something one was
supposed to say.

Valeera was all too familiar with such things.

“How can I be of service to you, my Queen?” Valeera finally asked once half of Lireesa’s glass
was empty and the darkness around her eyes had begun, finally, to lessen.

“Such formality,” Lireesa chided as she set her glass aside and crossed her legs all in one fluid
motion.

Valeera wondered how she managed to make every chair she sat in look like a throne. What a
handy talent for a queen to have.

“You seem unwell,” Valeera remarked. “I thought perhaps if I showed the respect your station
deserves it might lift your spirits.”

Lireesa’s lips quirked and she let out a puff of air through her nose.

“So clever,” Lireesa mused. “I find you delightful, as always.”

“Is that the word?” Valeera asked, and Lireesa lifted one of her severe brows. “‘Delightful’?”
“No.”

Valeera snorted and looked down at her wine as she swirled it in her glass.

“Sylvanas and Jaina will both be gone for the week,” Lireesa said suddenly, but Valeera was
more than used to her mercurial ways. Even with her recent utter lack of sleep, she was able to
keep up. “This will leave Dar’Khan with idle hands. I've recently discovered he is being rather
reckless in his teachings. That, coupled with various concerns that have been expressed to me
has left me with little choice but to ask you to find out exactly what it is that he's up to.”

Valeera stopped her swirling and slowly looked up at Lireesa. “You want me to follow
Dar’Khan of all people? His wards are-”

“Lazy,” Lireesa said before Valeera could finish. “Over-confident. His power has left him utterly
lacking in creativity and he is at a disadvantage.”

Lireesa reached for a little box that was waiting on the table next to her half-finished wine and
passed it to Valeera.

“What is this?” She asked curiously, though she was already unlatching it.

“A scrying stone identical to the one he favors. He will be having dinner tomorrow evening with
his...ilk. Replace it then. It will leave him blind to you and it will allow me to see as he sees
every so often.”

“Your timing would have to be impeccable,” Valeera remarked as she examined the stone. “You
aren't able to scry for longer than a few moments at best, yes?”

“Quite,” Lireesa agreed. “And so, you will find out his goings-on. His preferred time of doing
things. That I may have a better idea of when to look.”

Valeera lifted a brow and nodded as she slipped the stone back into the little silk pouch she'd
pulled it from and tucked it into her low-cut shirt. “Very well, then. You’ve thought of
everything as usual.”

“Do not tell Liadrin,” Lireesa said without warning. “I'm aware of your sudden fondness. Or at
least your sudden willingness to act upon it. She mustn't know. No one can know. You do
understand this, yes?”

Valeera was surprised and unsurprised all at once. It was difficult even to breathe in Lireesa’s
presence without her suddenly becoming aware of one’s darkest secrets, somehow. This was
better than the alternative, though. Better than the possibility of Lireesa finding out the reason
these happenings with Liadrin had even begun was because she might or might not be going
completely mad.

“Of course,” Valeera reassured. “My loyalty lies with you first, always.”

Lireesa looked at her hard, then. Valeera wondered what she'd done wrong.

“Why?”
Such a simple question, Valeera thought. Such a simple question, considering how quickly it had
made the floor drop out from underneath her.

Because I have no choice. Because I was nothing before and you could make me nothing again.
Because every nuance of my life from the woman I love to the secrets I keep belongs to you.
Because you are Terrible. Because I am like you.

“You are my Queen,” Valeera said, her face impassive and her eyes emotionless. “Where else
would my loyalties lie?”

“Love,” Lireesa mused without pause or explanation. “Such a powerful thing, is it not?”

“I wouldn't know,” Valeera said evenly. “Love is a luxury reserved for those unburdened by the
weight of true awareness. For people with too much time on their hands.”

“Would you lie to her, Valeera?” Lireesa asked quietly. There was nothing dangerous in her tone.
No warning. No real curiosity, either.

“I lie to everyone,” Valeera said, because...it was true.

Lireesa smiled very faintly.

“I know you do.”

Valeera swirled her wine in her glass once more and then downed it all in one sip before she
stood and moved to place it next to the decanter. She filled Lireesa’s glass for her and held it out,
and Lireesa took it from her without so much as a glance.

“Have a good evening, Valeera,” Lireesa said, and it was obvious to Valeera that her attention
was waning. “Take care not to be seen. You and I both know just how cunning he is, even in his
laziness.”

Lireesa stared at the door Valeera left through for a long while before her gaze drifted over her
empty parlor - lingering on the cold, dark fireplace. Lingering for too long.

“She has your eyes,” Lireesa remarked with a fond smile as she swaddled the newborn just like
she had a hundred others. The child already had a shock of rather wild-looking blonde hair
sprouting from the top of her head and a more-than-healthy cry in response to the cold shock of
being outside her mother’s womb.

“Would that she had yours,” the woman remarked in response. “I suppose mine will have to
do.”

Lireesa’s smile broadened when she looked up from the task at hand and-

Her eyes opened slowly as she looked down to find the lap of her emerald dress stained darkly
with wine.

She didn't even bother to curse as she stood and waved a hand so that the laces along the back
would begin to unweave as she made her way towards her bedroom to change. It mattered not. A
dress was as insignificant as anything else.
Lireesa was struck by her own reflection as she stopped in front of a mirror holding the ruined
garment. She stared at herself as she tried to decipher her own dream. It had felt so strangely
intimate, yet so very alien. It had felt...like something of great importance held just out of reach.

She felt uneasy. Uneasy enough that she looked away from herself and left the dress on the floor
in favor of pulling on a nearby robe before she moved towards the balcony of her bedroom and
stepped out into the moonlight to let it pour over her - further drenching her skin in paleness.

Were it not for the darkness of her hair and the shadows under her eyes, she might have been
washed away entirely.
 Accretion

Sylvanas walked out of the bathroom still drying her hair - a towel wrapped around her middle
and a sated sigh on her lips. They’d been swimming in the ocean after dinner. Swimming had
never been Sylvanas’s favorite past-time, yet with Jaina, it had been so fun. So freeing.

Especially considering Jaina had coaxed her into the gentle waves by removing all of her
clothing first. Sylvanas had gotten dunked beneath the surface of the water more times than she
could count, and each time she’d come up laughing. Jaina was by far the better swimmer.

Sylvanas found this wildly attractive, as she found all competence attractive. Jaina had
competence in spades. Competence and confidence. Boldness, now that they’d grown closer.
Now that they’d admitted what was growing wild and free and rampant between them.

Sylvanas stopped in her tracks near the bed where she’d laid out her clothing for the night. She
hadn’t prepared herself for the sight of Jaina on the balcony - her still-damp hair free and drying
in the sea breeze making its way past her through the open doors. She was wearing the same
thing she’d worn in their swim, and the moonlight caught the perfection of all her bared skin in a
way that left Sylvanas’s mouth feeling rather dry.

Jaina could feel her eyes even if she hadn’t heard the soft patting of her feet against the marble
floor of the master suite of the spire. She only spared a single glance over her shoulder in her
wife’s direction, yet even as short as the look had been - Sylvanas felt beckoned.
Beckoned and over-dressed.

She hesitated for a moment or two longer before placing both her towels beside her bedclothes
and surrendering herself to that single glance.

“Hello,” Jaina greeted her as she walked out past the doors. “How was your bath?”

“Fine,” Sylvanas said quietly, hovering a step or two behind Jaina.

Their nakedness had been one thing when it was playful. This felt entirely different. Because it
was. It really, really was.

Sylvanas felt her nerves threaten to overtake her. She felt her tongue become clumsy behind her
lips. And then she realized Jaina was blushing. That Jaina might be doubting whatever choice it
was that she’d made that led her here - leaning over the balcony railing on display like she was.

The thought that Jaina might feel shame over anything at all spurred Sylvanas into action, and
she finally took the steps that would have her standing behind Jaina. She finally rested one of
her hands along Jaina’s bare side to find it cooled by the breeze.

“Do you always tremble when you touch a woman?” Jaina asked, trying to keep the tremor out
of her voice. She wasn’t altogether successful.

“Only you,” Sylvanas said, and Jaina reached for her hand to cover it with her own.

“Why?” Jaina’s voice was a whisper as she looked over her shoulder again.

Sylvanas looked back, now. For just a moment or two before she leaned forward and pressed a
kiss to a particularly prominent freckle on Jaina’s shoulder. She still smelled ever so slightly like
the sea.

“Because I have never wanted more to be good in the ways that I want to be good for you,”
Sylvanas murmured against Jaina’s skin. “And you make me feel like a newborn fawn.”

Jaina’s eyes fluttered shut when Sylvanas’s lips found her skin. They felt so much softer against
her shoulder than they did when they kissed, somehow.

“At least you will know what to do when you find your footing,” Jaina said with a weak laugh,
though she nearly cursed herself when it seemed Sylvanas might pull away.

Jaina stopped her quickly - tightening her hand over Sylvanas’s and slowly guiding it around to
the front of her body until she found the heft of her breast cradled in the palm of it.

“Don’t,” Jaina whispered as Sylvanas swallowed thickly. “Don’t pull away. I’ve never wanted
someone like this. I never thought it was possible to want like this. I...I-”

“I won’t,” Sylvanas said quickly, though her hand slowly left where Jaina had placed it - it only
moved to her hip to turn her so that they were facing each other. “I want you like that, too.
Beyond reason. Beyond logic. The sparks that make up the pieces of me and make them alive
want you, Jaina. For a long time.”
Jaina looked into Sylvanas’s eyes and lifted a hand to rest against the center of her chest even as
Sylvanas moved close enough that she felt her lower back press against the cold stone rail of the
balcony.

“I’m right here,” Jaina said, and Sylvanas reached for her hand to lift it so that she could press a
kiss into the center of her palm. “And I’m yours to have.”

“Would you have me as well?” Sylvanas asked as the front of her body met Jaina’s and she
reached past her with one arm to support her away from the railing just to give her something a
little less harsh than stone to lean on.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Jaina half-sighed, half-laughed. “I’ve no real idea what to do with you
but I want to do all of it. You are...beyond perfection. Beyond words.”

Sylvanas had leaned in as Jaina spoke, and Jaina began to lose her train of thought as her wife’s
lips found the corner of her mouth in a little almost-kiss.

“I am just as much yours, Jaina,” Sylvanas whispered as she touched along the line of Jaina’s
spine. “Would you come to bed with me? Fawns don’t deal well with marble, I don’t think.”

Jaina nodded without hesitation, but she reached for the back of Sylvanas’s neck before she
could move away just to pull her in for a quick, rather firm kiss.

“I love you,” She whispered against Sylvanas’s lips. “Utterly, Sylvanas. Completely.”

“I love you just the same,” Sylvanas attempted to whisper, but the words came out as a gasp.

Jaina had never in her life cherished a gasp the way she cherished that one.

“And I would show you, Jaina,” She continued, much to Jaina’s surprise. “Just how much. I
would show you through the night. I would learn all of you. I would commit every place that
you like to be touched to my memory until you read, to me, like a favorite book. Until I could
recite your passages with my lips and write them with my fingertips.”

She’d slipped into Thalassian so fluidly Jaina had hardly noticed. The kisses she was trailing
along her jaw were rather distracting, though, even as those words washed over her in much the
same way the waves had earlier that evening.

“I...yes. Yes, I want that. All of that. Gods, Sylvanas, where did that come from?” Jaina asked as
she tilted her head to the side once Sylvanas found a rather sensitive place she hadn’t even been
aware of just beneath the lobe of her ear. “Where were you?”

“Waiting,” Sylvanas said simply, responding to the bumps that rose along Jaina’s skin by
pressing a soft, slightly open-mouthed kiss to the place her lips had settled. “Waiting to mean
those words.”

“I hope you mean them now, because I don't think there's any coming back from that for me,”
Jaina quipped weakly, and Sylvanas smiled and pulled back to look at her flushed cheeks and the
slightly dazed look in her eyes.

“I mean them very much.”

Jaina let out a shaky sigh of relief, and was all too glad when Sylvanas finally took her hand to
lead her back into the bedroom.

Jaina had never felt the differences between them so starkly until now, as Sylvanas moved onto
the bed with her and guided her towards the headboard. It seemed as though everywhere
Sylvanas was small and lythe, she was soft and full. Like they were made to complement each
other. Like two pieces of a puzzle previously scattered worlds apart.

“Would you lay on your stomach for me?” Sylvanas asked as Jaina was still trying to figure out
what to do with herself.

Jaina let out a breath that she'd meant to be a response. She was glad for something to do, really.
Glad for the task of trying to turn over in a way Sylvanas might find attractive, though it didn't
seem to matter much in the end. Sylvanas was pressing a smile and a kiss between her shoulder
blades once she'd settled, and for the first time - Jaina experienced her wife’s slight weight
pressing down against her. The smoothness of her thighs as they pressed against the outsides of
her own once they'd been straddled.

Oh, it was all Jaina could do not to press her hips down into the bed suddenly. Or up against
Sylvanas’s own. Both, perhaps. Something. Anything.

Sylvanas’s fingertips chased the ache of want from the forefront of her thoughts soon enough as
they traced along her arms and down her sides. And her lips did even more than that down the
center of her back.

Jaina was rather disappointed when a last kiss was pressed against the base of her spine before
the kissing stopped entirely and Sylvanas sat up to straddle her thighs. She'd been just about to
voice a plea when both Sylvanas's hands slid slowly up her back towards her shoulders and
began to knead them deeply. Skillfully. Finding knots she'd never known existed, but felt
suddenly as though they'd been there for years. They melted under her wife’s touch. Every bit of
tension. Every subtle, barely-noticed ache that had come from strain and anxiety over the past
months and even longer was drawn from her until it all finally culminated in a rather desperate
moan that fell from Jaina’s lips shamelessly.

She might have been embarrassed at the wanton, unhinged sound of it had she not heard a
breathy, trembling sound from Sylvanas almost immediately.

Without being asked, Jaina turned over carefully and looked up at the woman who’d been
playing her like some sort of fine instrument only to find Sylvanas looking down at her in
something akin to wonder.

“What?” Jaina asked, and Sylvanas blinked as if to reset herself.

“You are just so different,” Sylvanas said quietly.

“Than elves?” Jaina asked with a little smile. “I’ve noticed. It's good to know you have, too.”

Sylvanas huffed and shook her head more at herself than anything.

“You like it,” Jaina continued, feeling a thrill up her spine even as she did. “Your eyes are drawn
to certain parts of me more often than you know.”
“I like it very much,” Sylvanas confirmed, yet her eyes stayed locked on Jaina’s as she slowly
leaned down over her and ran her hand up her side until she reached one of Jaina’s breasts. Yet
she touched around it slowly in a way that made Jaina think they might be good for more than
her wife’s viewing enjoyment. She palmed it slowly and kneaded subtly until Jaina was
surprised to find herself pressing up into the touch and reaching for her own pillow on either
side of her head just to have something to hold onto.

“You like this,” Sylvanas observed as she circled the sensitive, darker skin around Jaina’s nipple
with the pad of her thumb without yet touching it directly.

“Yes,” Jaina panted against Sylvanas’s lips as she sought them out for a kiss.

Sylvanas ended her hunt for her by bringing their lips together slowly as she finally ran her
thumb over the top of Jaina’s nipple. Jaina could no longer concentrate on their kiss. She was too
busy writhing.

She couldn't speak, either. Not right then. But that was fine, because Sylvanas’s free hand came
up to cradle her chin and her thumb pressed against her lips until she parted them to wet it with
her tongue once she realized what Sylvanas wanted.

And then, as Sylvanas slowly lowered her head, Jaina froze in response to the sensation of
Sylvanas’s still-glistening thumb pressing over one nipple while her mouth closed over the other.

Sylvanas was so light that Jaina was thankful for her strength keeping them both somewhat
steady when Jaina squirmed and shifted beneath her. When she arched her chest and her grip on
the silk pillowcase went white-knuckled and desperate because Jaina had never experienced
anything so all-encompassing as the shockingly hot, silky feeling of Sylvanas sucking softly at
her nipple and then flicking her tongue over it gently when the sucking threatened to become too
much.

Jaina hadn't even realized how tightly she shut her eyes until she was surprised by the feeling of
Sylvanas reaching for one of her hands - taking it into her own and guiding it to her own hair.
Jaina slipped her fingers into the silvery-blond strands tentatively at first. Tentatively, at least,
until Sylvanas grazed her teeth against her nipple. She closed them against it so softly that the
gentleness of it was almost painful, and when she tugged, Jaina pulled at her hair and drew it
into a tight fist. A grip that had a low, velvety moan from her wife joining the myriad of
sensations Jaina was already experiencing.

She wanted to hear that again. Desperately. She'd never heard something so beautiful, she was
sure of it.

She kept her hand in Sylvanas’s hair as her mouth switched sides and gave her other breast the
same level of careful, focused attention. She pulled at it again every so often until Sylvanas was
panting quietly against her sternum and stroking down her body towards her thighs.

Jaina remembered, suddenly, that ‘more’ was an option. That there could be more than this
throbbing, terrible ache between her thighs. She tried to spread them despite the fact that
Sylvanas was still straddling them, but Sylvanas compensated quickly - lifting herself and
settling between Jaina’s legs like she belonged there.
Jaina relaxed her grip on Sylvanas's hair because suddenly it felt all too natural to reach for her
slender sides just above her hips as her wife looked down at her, dazed and full of desire as her
hips were met with wetness that Jaina was suddenly acutely aware was so plentiful it had spread
to her inner thighs.

“I've…” Jaina licked her lips in an attempt to make it less difficult to speak, but in the end, she
just shook her head as her chest rose and fell rapidly despite the fact that Sylvanas had begun to
stroke a hand through her fan of golden hair that splayed against her pillow in an effort to soothe
her.

“Tell me,” Sylvanas coaxed with a slight break in her voice that only made Jaina want for her
more.

“I didn't know it would be like this,” Jaina admitted even as she put an almost embarrassing
amount of effort into staying still. “I'd never have left you alone if I had.”

“I've barely begun to touch you,” Sylvanas said, but in a tone that was so open and full of
adoration Jaina couldn't even begin to feel chided. “But I feel how wet you are, and I would like
very much to know how you might feel around my fingers if that's something you would like to
know, too.”

“Yes,” Jaina said fervently. Eagerly. The flush in her cheeks had spread down her neck and even
begun to darken her chest but she couldn't begin to care. “Please.”

“You don't have to say that to me,” Sylvanas reassured as she traced her fingertips slowly along
Jaina’s inner thigh while she supported her own weight on her other arm. “What I can offer you
is already yours, you know.”

“And what is that, exactly?” Jaina asked, not entirely sure where those words had even come
from. She wasn't sure how she'd managed to speak at all now that Sylvanas was using the same
hand that had been touching her to slowly press her thigh to the side.

“Pleasure, I hope,” Sylvanas said, and her tone was full of equal parts sincerity and heat.

Jaina couldn't have said another word if she'd tried. The throbbing between her legs suddenly
shifted into something else completely when Sylvanas’s fingertips slipped through the warmth
and wetness of her to find her hard, over-sensitive clit. To coat it with her own slickness and
trace down over the hood of it to ease her into the feeling instead of overwhelming her with it.

Jaina had never gone so still so quickly in her life. One of her hands stayed on Sylvanas’s side
while the other flew to her wrist in a vice-like grip that she couldn't have helped if she'd tried,
though she seemed unsure as she looked for Sylvanas's eyes.

“That's alright,” Sylvanas whispered, and Jaina’s attention was torn in a hundred directions as
she felt the steely muscles of Sylvanas’s forearm flex and tense with each subtle movement of
her fingertips. “I can still move how I'd like, I promise. And you can stop me if you need to.”

“I don't want to stop you,” Jaina breathed, the jumble her words had come out in only just
intelligible. “I just want to feel it.”
“Then out your hand over mine,” Sylvanas offered, and Jaina swallowed past the dry, thick
feeling in her throat as she slowly relaxed her grip and splayed her fingertips over the top of
Sylvanas’s hand. No sooner had she done that than Sylvanas dipped her fingertips low again to
gather more wetness - drawing it back to her clit and finally brushing slowly around the very tip
of it.

Jaina’s lips parted as her panting suddenly shifted into short, sharp gasps and the silk of the
pillow still bunched in her free hand began to flex in her grip. Her hand that was still over
Sylvanas’s didn't budge, though. It stayed resting there gently even as Sylvanas’s touches grew a
little firmer. A little quicker.

It was only a moment or two before that was no longer the case, and she was squeezing the life
out of Sylvanas’s wrist as her legs only stayed parted by virtue of her wife’s hips between them
and her nails left angry little crescents in her thighs. This was different than all the times she'd
touched herself. This peak of pleasure had her jerking into Sylvanas’s hand and her head rolling
back into her pillow as her thighs tensed and shook along with the rest of her.

Sylvanas’s touches gentled and slowed but didn't stop as she leaned down to brush her lips along
the underside of Jaina’s jaw now that it was exposed to her. She seemed unbothered by Jaina's
nails. In fact, Jaina could've sworn the sharpness had only caused her breaths to begin to hitch
more frequently.

Jaina’s own panting grew softer as she went still in response to her wife’s fingertips sliding back
down once more and not coming back up this time. They circled her slowly and Jaina was
suddenly so very, very aware of feeling distinctly empty when she clenched around nothing.

She forced herself to relax back into the bed on the off chance it might urge Sylvanas on because
she knew she couldn't speak. She knew she didn't have the voice to ask to be filled right then.
She wasn't even sure she had the right words, anyway.

But Sylvanas could feel her flexing against the barely-there pressure of her fingertips and she
knew. The next time the tightness eased, she slowly pressed the tip of her middle finger into it
and both of Jaina’s hands moved to her back rather quickly.

They both gasped almost in tandem when Sylvanas pressed on until the entire length of her
middle finger was buried. Jaina clung to her in more ways than one, and Sylvanas shifted the
arm she was using to support herself to slide beneath Jaina’s back instead and hold her. Jaina
was pulling her down too hard for her to stay up anyway, and Jaina was more than ready to have
her full weight blanketing her even as slight as she was.

“How do I feel around you?” Jaina asked suddenly against Sylvanas’s shoulder where she was
currently trying to catch her breath.

“Like velvet,” Sylvanas whispered against Jaina’s ear, breathless and half-coherent. “Like I'm
supposed to be here.”

“More,” Jaina urged as Sylvanas pulled her finger back and slipped it in to the knuckle again.

Sylvanas nodded her understanding because she couldn't speak it, and she took this one even
slower - stretching and allowing Jaina to adjust until she had two fingers settled in her - waiting
as she tensed in waves.
Jaina let out a series of trembling breaths as her nails once again bit into the skin of Sylvanas’s
back, and Sylvanas rewarded her, rather intentionally or not, with her thumb against her clit -
stroking in gentle up and down motions while her fingers curled against Jaina’s tightness instead
of thrusting just yet.

“I'm-” Jaina scrambled for a better hold on her wife. She attempted to say her name. To get her
to stop before she embarrassed herself, or perhaps to warn her.

“I know,” Sylvanas whispered against her temple. “I know. I can feel you. I want it. I want you
to.”

“Not yet,” Jaina somehow managed to gasp as she tried to shift her hips against Sylvanas’s hand
to urge her on. She wanted more. She wanted to experience more, and she wasn't sure she'd
survive peaking a second time and she wanted as much as she could get before she perished.

“Okay,” Sylvanas breathed in answer more to Jaina’s physical urging than anything. She pulled
her hand back and Jaina whimpered for its return immediately. She gathered another fistful of
Sylvanas’s hair when it happened, and she held onto her tightly when the movements became
more regular and more deliberate.

Jaina wasn't sure anymore who was louder or more unhinged. Sylvanas, who was clutching her
so close and so tight she was nearly lifted from the bed - who was baring her fangs against her
shoulder and gasping her name. Or herself, dragging in greedy breaths whenever she could
manage and exhaling various syllables of her wife’s name in between sounds she'd never in her
life imagined she would make.

She locked her legs around Sylvanas’s waist when pleasure overtook her for a second time.
Deeper, now. A different kind that she was even less familiar with than the first. A tingling and a
warmth that spread from the very core of her being outward as she trapped Sylvanas's hand
between them and her fingers deep inside herself as something akin to a sob wracked her entire
body.

She was barely aware of Sylvanas breathing heavily against her neck and peppering kisses along
her warm, damp skin. Kisses that gradually yet somehow far too quickly deepened into
something more.

It wasn't anything Jaina couldn't handle, though. Sylvanas seemed to know just how to bring her
to the edge of too much without pushing her over. Like now, as Jaina discovered the sting of
fangs in her skin for the first time, the sharpness was dulled and made pleasurable by the heel of
Sylvanas’s palm pressing against her clit in slow, almost melodic waves of pressure.

Jaina found she liked the sting of fangs and the deep, bruising ache that came after when
Sylvanas sucked at the skin she'd just bitten. She liked the sensation almost as much as she liked
the feeling of her wife’s hips bucking behind her hand each time.

She'd wondered about those fangs. She'd wondered if they were some remnant or something
more. Something practical.

And now she knew. She knew that her wife ached to mark her in much the same way Jaina
ached to be filled by her. She knew that her wife moaned into her skin when Jaina pressed into
her bites for more and she knew that Sylvanas shuddered and tensed at the sight of those marks.
Jaina could think enough to speak, and she felt more than a little desperate to provide Sylvanas
with some semblance of relief. That desperation reached a fever point when she dared to reach
down between them to find wetness slipping from Sylvanas to land against her fingertips.

As if sensing Jaina’s sudden presence between her legs, Sylvanas shifted with significantly less
grace than usual so she had one knee on either side of Jaina’s hips, leaving her enough room that
her desires were clear even if the words for them escaped her. Jaina glanced down quickly to get
her bearings and she found herself unable to tear her eyes from the sight of her fingertips slick,
now, with the clear evidence of her wife’s need of her. Unable to look away from the pink skin
beneath a dusting of hair even lighter than the fistful she'd been holding against her wife’s scalp
- flushed and glinting in the mage lights of the bedroom.

Sylvanas whimpered as she attempted to lower her hips against the barely-there presence of
Jaina’s fingertips, and in that moment, Jaina knew she'd never forget that sound. That, or the
choked, breathless gasp of her name when she finally pushed her fingers up and into her wife. If
she'd worried it was too much or too little, her fears bled from her as Sylvanas suddenly pushed
herself up so that she was settled down against Jaina’s hand on her knees.

Oh, if Jaina could pay to have this image immortalized. The image of Sylvanas pushing her own
hair back away from her face as she looked down at her and lifted herself just enough that when
she started rocking her hips, Jaina had enough room to move her hand if she pleased.

Jaina very much pleased. She found it easy to follow the motions of Sylvanas’s body when every
muscle was on display and they shifted beneath sun-bronzed skin. When Sylvanas's hand never
left her own hair and, instead, pulled at it as if to replace the absence of Jaina’s tugging. She
moved effortlessly. Her gasps and her grunts of both effort and pleasure made Jaina feel more
powerful than she thought anyone had a right to be on their back after having their world turned
upside-down.

If Jaina had begun to feel a little like she was doing too little work in comparison, that worry
was driven away when Sylvanas had to lean down as her thighs began to twitch. That worry was
leagues away, really, when Sylvanas’s hair fell around them and she rested her free hand against
one of Jaina’s breasts and kneaded it all while her hips kept seeking something she wasn't
entirely gathered enough to find for herself.

“Jaina-” Sylvanas gasped her name as she danced on the edge. She reached down to touch
herself, and the movement shocked Jaina into action. While Sylvanas’s fingertips moved in
quick, concise motions against her own clit - Jaina dug her heels into the bed and thrust her
fingers hard. Harder than she'd intended to, yet the sudden furrow of her wife’s brows and the
silence that fell from her now-parted lips was encouraging.

“Yes,” Sylvanas finally managed, and only just. “Like...that. Please.”

Jaina lifted herself onto one elbow because she wanted this to continue. She wanted that look on
her wife’s face, and if thrusting her fingers hard and fast into the tight, wet heat clutching around
them was how to keep it there then she was going to do everything in her power to achieve that.

Only, it didn't last very long at all before it shifted into something else entirely. A flash of bared
fangs. A parting of teeth to relinquish a desperate, almost broken whimper that lengthened into a
throaty keen and all while she bared down and tensed so hard Jaina could no longer even hope to
move her hand.

Jaina wondered if she would ever get closer than she was in this moment to true inner peace. She
prayed she would be able to recall every second and every nuance from the sweat-sheen of
Sylvanas’s hunched shoulders to the way every single muscle was flexed and hard in drastic
contrast to the soft, achingly vulnerable noises she was making.

Jaina withdrew her fingers as Sylvanas tried and failed to lift herself from them, and she quickly
leaned up to tug Sylvanas down against herself to save her having to collapse of her own accord.

As intimate as this sudden full-press of their bodies against one another was, the feeling of a
shudder running through her wife was what really drove the moment and all its gravity home to
Jaina. The realization that Sylvanas had given just as much of herself as Jaina had. That she'd
always intended to.

Jaina, in another daring move, slipped her hand from Sylvanas’s back to press along the front of
her body and over her chest. She liked the way Sylvanas’s breast fit perfectly in her palm, and
she liked the soft, appreciative noise she was rewarded with even more. There was nothing
urgent about it, though. Jaina felt free to keep her hand there and occasionally graze the stiffness
of Sylvanas’s nipple with her thumb.

“You thought you wouldn't know what to do,” Sylvanas mused against the only mark she’d left
on Jaina’s neck that was likely to last until tomorrow before she kissed it. “And yet I've never
felt as good as I just did.”

Jaina found it ridiculous to blush now after everything they'd done so far that night, and yet she
did. Even her ears felt hot as she smiled the type of smile that one could do absolutely nothing
about.

Sylvanas chuckled. A low, warm sound that Jaina loved fiercely and immediately.

“Is that pride I see?” Sylvanas asked as she shifted so she was only half on top of Jaina, her head
propped on one hand as the other stroked some of Jaina’s hair away from her face. “It's so
deserved.”

Jaina was as captivated by the look on Sylvanas’s face as she was by the feeling of Sylvanas’s
leg draped over her own. She seemed unbothered that she was still wet against Jaina’s thigh, so
Jaina tried not to find it incredibly arousing. She tried not to let that pride she'd been feeling
settle in any deeper. Both were easier said than done.

“Maybe a little,” Jaina admitted as she traced her fingertips down the center of Sylvanas’s
stomach towards the soft cuts of her hips. “Is that a normal feeling to have?”

“It's very normal,” Sylvanas reassured, and Jaina found her grin altogether too disarming. “I'm
going to get some water for us.”

Sylvanas slipped away from her before she could protest, and that was probably for the best.
Jaina had never been so parched in her life. She didn't mind watching her walk across the
bedroom towards the bathroom, either. Nor did she stop her gaze from lingering as she watched
Sylvanas fill a glass in the room beyond.
“I could get used to being desired for my physical attributes instead of my political ones,”
Sylvanas said without even looking back at her. “If you would let me.”

“I don't think I could stop myself if I tried,” Jaina admitted freely, moving to sit up on the edge
of the bed as Sylvanas approached with a full glass for both of them. She'd only taken a few sips
of hers by the time Jaina had finished all of her own, and just when Jaina expected her to crawl
into her bed, Sylvanas instead moved to kneel on the floor in front of her.

Jaina looked down at her in confusion and reached to trace her fingers through Sylvanas’s hair
as Sylvanas rested her hands against her knees.

“What are you doing down there?” She asked as Sylvanas looked up at her.

“Appreciating my wife in all her beauty,” Sylvanas explained, and her eyes remained on Jaina’s
as she slowly moved to kiss her inner thigh. “Hoping that I might taste her.”

Jaina swallowed on nothing as realization dawned on her. She didn't have time to sort through
what the sight of Sylvanas prostrating herself did to her. She didn't have time to reconcile this
beautiful kneeling goddess with the militant, polished woman she was anywhere else.

“You might,” Jaina said in a voice that came as a whisper when she hadn't intended for it to. “If
you wish.”

Sylvanas slowly slipped her hands under Jaina’s thighs to guide her closer to the edge of the bed
and to part them further to make more room for herself, and she placed another kiss to a spot
where there was still wetness trying to dry in the cool night air. “I wish.”

Jaina had no response. Those words had come out just as softly as Sylvanas’s lips were brushing
against the crook of her thigh, and she was at an utter loss as to what to expect. There was no use
in feeling exposed, she told herself, as Sylvanas’s face came so close to her that she could feel
the warmth of her breath. There was no use in worrying over such things, she told herself, as
Sylvanas’s nose brushed against her and her lips parted to allow her tongue to part Jaina in turn.

There was only a shock of sensation. Wet and soft and slow riding from her entrance all the way
to her clit and back that drew a strangled, decidedly unattractive noise from her. And a slow
smile from Sylvanas, who kept her eyes shut as she shifted closer and pressed her face nearer.

It was all Jaina could do not to scalp her wife as the pressure of that nearness grew until she
became violently aware that Sylvanas meant to enter her with her tongue and, once she had,
Jaina was reduced to nothing but feeling. Not words. Not modesty. Only Sylvanas’s tongue
dipping into her shallowly again and again until Jaina was excruciatingly aware that she had
never wanted to experience a mouth on her clit more than she did right then.

She gave Sylvanas’s hair a very subtle pull that she hoped might get her hint across, and she
only grew more flustered when it only earned her a smile and a deepening of the movements of
her wife’s tongue. Was she being teased?

Jaina pulled harder. She tightened her hand and guided Sylvanas’s head higher and felt braver
than a thousand soldiers on a dozen battlefields in doing so.
“There you are,” Sylvanas whispered, and suddenly her eyes were on Jaina as Jaina looked
down at her to find her face a mess. A beautiful, shockingly erotic mess. “When your wife is on
her knees for you you shouldn't worry about forwardness. I am already here, after all, and it is
not up to the priestess how to worship the goddess.”

Jaina thought she might very well die. It was such a departure. It was so far removed from
anything she could've imagined that she nearly lost any and all control the moment Sylvanas’s
lips first encircled her clit. Thankfully, loss of control meant she was largely frozen in place, and
the last thing she wanted to do was distract Sylvanas in any way from what she was doing.

Because what she was doing was absolutely sinful, and Jaina was fully willing to spend an
eternity paying for it. She never knew a mouth could do so much. Even one that spoke such
honeyed, lilted words as Sylvanas’s. But it could. It could cradle her clit and suck against it even
as her tongue flattened and worked in tandem.

And then Jaina realized, because it hadn't yet occurred to her, that her wife very much still had
hands. That one of them had very much come to rest below her chin. That there was very much a
finger sinking into her slowly and stroking into her deftly.

Jaina’s vision tunneled into near-nothingness when Sylvanas guided one of her legs over her
shoulder to further open her. To another finger. To more fervent suckling against her clit.

Even Sylvanas’s breaths were exquisite - so hot and fast against her each time her lips parted for
only a moment. Never any longer than was absolutely necessary, so focused was she on Jaina’s
pleasure.

When Jaina came, she came with a sob. Loud and desperate and broken as Sylvanas quickly
compensated for her sudden bonelessness by pressing her onto her back on the bed and reaching
for one of her hands to hold it tightly even as she drew her pleasure out with her tongue, slow
and soft and languid.

An eternity, Jaina had thought. Or thereabouts, by the time she could open her eyes. By the time
she was aware of Sylvanas holding her against her chest where she had apparently chosen to
hide her face when even the dimmed mage lights were far too much for her to handle.

“Hello,” Jaina whispered, her voice hoarse for reasons unbeknownst to her as Sylvanas kissed
her forehead in greeting.

“Hello,” Sylvanas greeted against her damp skin before kissing it again. “Do you feel
worshipped?”

“I feel as though I'll never stand without assistance again,” Jaina corrected as her hands sought
Sylvanas’s stomach and then her sides as best they could in their current position.

“One in the same,” Sylvanas whispered, moving her kisses to Jaina’s lips and lingering there
when Jaina seemed apt to part them for her tongue. Jaina even liked the taste of herself in these
kisses. On the top of her wife’s tongue. On her lips.

She wondered if this was how those bites had felt for Sylvanas. A ‘mine’ without a ‘mine'. A
‘mine’ of love and adoration rather than possession.
“I think I would commit murder for you right now if you were to ask,” Jaina mused once their
kisses had slowed to a stop.

“I haven't lost my touch, then,” was all Sylvanas said as she reached for one of Jaina’s hands and
twined their fingers together.

“If you'd done anything more, I might have died, Sylvanas.”

“It's only our first night,” Sylvanas pointed out. “Imagine how good I would have been had you
not been so terribly mean to me earlier.”

“You mean when I wouldn't pretend to be a worse swimmer than you for the sake of your
pride?” Jaina asked incredulously.

Sylvanas only smiled a rather sly, unbothered smile and kissed the very tip of Jaina’s nose.

“That's exactly what I mean,” She whispered, and Jaina could've sworn she felt herself fall in
love with her even more.

Sylvanas had missed the spires. She realized this before she ever even opened her eyes. She'd
missed the way the sound of the tide below and the sea birds had woken her along with the
gentle sun coming in through the still-open balcony doors. Doors that were designed to face
away from the sunrise and towards the sunset, because such attention to detail was
commonplace among her people and much appreciated by her. At least right now, when she had
time to laze about in bed.

At least, she'd thought she would laze about until she reached over for Jaina to find her place
empty.

“Are you looking for me without even opening your eyes?” Jaina sounded like she was smiling.

Sylvanas opened her eyes slowly to find that she was. Sitting by the balcony doors on a cushion
in little more than a robe with a book in her hand - a book that was quickly placed aside as she
stood and grabbed a basket that had been waiting beside her.

“Left on our doorstep this morning courtesy of Jovia by way of a messenger according to the
note on the door. One of the villagers?”

Sylvanas smiled sleepily and pushed herself up to reach for the basket, finding it stocked amply
with more than enough food for the rest of the day.

“The Innkeeper there. She likely heard our cook wouldn't be around until tomorrow.”

“That's kind of her,” Jaina remarked, and Sylvanas nodded her agreement as she went straight
for a bun she'd spotted the moment she opened the basket. She handed it to Jaina, who found it
still just on the edge of warm. A pleasant surprise, she thought as she bit into it. The fruit and
nuts in the center of the roll were an even more surprise.

“Her specialty,” Sylvanas explained before she took a bite of her own bun. “She's rather famous
for them. They're sold in the city, even, each weekend.”
“Are they?” Jaina asked as she examined the bun’s rather remarkable construction. It had looked
so utterly like a simple roll on the outside. “Perhaps I'll go hunting for them when we get back,
then.”

“You were exquisite last night, Jaina,” Sylvanas said so suddenly that Jaina very much regretted
the too-large bite she currently had in her mouth when she looked up at her wife.

Sylvanas's impish grin made her wonder if she'd timed that compliment intentionally, so she
swallowed and did her best to put up a fight.

“My swimming? Or do you mean sexually?”

Sylvanas lifted a brow and tore off another piece of roll as she lounged back against the
headboard, naked as the day she was born.

“I don't want to talk about your swimming, actually. I was just rusty. I very much mean
sexually.” She popped the bite of bread into her mouth, and Jaina rolled her eyes as she moved
onto the bed next to her so they could better share the contents of the basket. Even as much as
they were teasing, Jaina felt relieved.

“I was worried, you know,” Jaina admitted. “You seem...well. You seem like you are much more
accustomed to sex than I am, and as much as you wanted to be good for me, I wanted to be good
for you.”

“This is good,” Sylvanas observed as she reached back into the basket to rummage around.
“That we can talk like this. Sex often does this to people.”

“I wasn't aware,” Jaina said with a quiet laugh, and Sylvanas finally seemed satisfied with a
now-opened bundle of cured meat slices she'd found and ready to focus her full attention on her
wife.

“Are you sorry that we waited so long?” Sylvanas asked, and her tone sounded quite similar to
Jaina’s when she'd only just confessed her own insecurities.

“No,” Jaina said, though after last night she gave her answer some real thought before giving it.
“I'm glad I knew your heart and your mind before the rest. I don't know that anyone could've
convinced me that someone who is so skilled at any of that is such an incredibly good person
inside. That may just be my prudish upbringing talking, but...also, when you said you would
show me how you loved me, well...I wasn't sure I understood how that was possible. How a
physical act could do such a thing. I understand, now.”

“Your prudish upbringing,” Sylvanas repeated with a little smile as she held her bundle out to
Jaina and watched her grab a few pieces of meat. “You weren't at all prudish last night.”

“I haven't felt very prudish since the first time I saw you without clothing, if I'm being entirely
honest,” Jaina countered, and she leaned her head to the side against Sylvanas’s shoulder.

“Perhaps I’m the prude, then,” Sylvanas lamented, sounding as though she wasn't entirely
joking.
“‘It's not up to the priestess how to worship the goddess’ was it?” Jaina asked, sounding almost
scholarly suddenly. Sylvanas’s ears pressed back against the headboard but she smirked
nevertheless. “How conservative of you to say such a thing with your head squarely between
your wife’s thighs.”

“I have no defense, I'm afraid. Perhaps I'm dehydrated,” Sylvanas offered softly. She knew
enough to know when she'd been beaten.

“I'm glad that we waited, Sylvanas,” Jaina said suddenly with an unexpected amount of
conviction. She lifted her head and looked over to find Sylvanas’s eyes already on her. Soft and
open and so similar in color to the sea they'd bathed in together the night before. “Really.”

Sylvanas let out a soft breath as she felt even more of what seemed like an immeasurable weight
slip away from her, and she leaned her forehead into Jaina’s for a moment or two before
brushing the tips of their noses together. She kissed her softly, then, and didn't bother to pull
away as she spoke.

“You make me feel real, Jaina. Like I am living.”

“You are very, very real,” Jaina whispered fervently. “And I am so very, very lucky that you are,
in fact, living.”

“I fell for you before I knew, I think,” Sylvanas admitted, and it was Jaina’s turn to kiss her,
then.

“I knew,” Jaina said with a faint smile as she reached up to stroke over Sylvanas’s cheek. “That
night in the baths.”

“Am I so transparent?” Sylvanas asked as she pressed her face into Jaina’s hand.

“Would you like for me to tell me that you are mysterious and untouchable?” Jaina asked as she
brushed her thumb across Sylvanas’s lips only to receive a quick, stolen kiss against the pad of
it. “Or that you show me so much of yourself that I couldn't help but fall madly, deeply in love?
That I couldn't help but know, unequivocally, that this is what this is supposed to feel like?”

Jaina’s smile faded slightly when Sylvanas didn't respond or look back at her. She only realized
why when a droplet of wetness met her hand where it still rested against Sylvanas's face.

“Oh, Sylvanas, I'm...what is it? Have I said something wrong?” Jaina sounded so pained and
concerned that even in her compromised state, Sylvanas couldn't help but move closer to her and
pull her into her arms.

“I don't think anyone has ever loved me,” Sylvanas breathed in a trembling voice. “And I
believe you.”

Jaina felt a shock run through her at that admission as her face came to press into the crook of
Sylvanas’s neck. She let her hand fall from her wife’s face to rest over her chest instead, and she
only ached for her all the more when she felt how her heart was racing.

How could anyone not love this woman? What about her past lovers? Her sister? Her mother?
How could anyone not be in her presence for longer than a moment without loving her?
But Jaina understood. She understood well enough to not have to ask those questions.

“I understand that feeling, Sylvanas,” Jaina said once she managed to get her words in order.
“And I promise to love you twice as hard for it.”

“Then I promise you the same,” Sylvanas offered - her words muffled by Jaina’s currently rather
wild hair. Hair that was as golden as the sun and still smelled like the sea.

A sea that had, perhaps, washed away the crumbling remains of the walls that had done their
best to cling to their waning existence between them and taken them out with the morning tide.
 Rust

“Mother?”

Sylvanas’s voice was insistent. She'd walked into Lireesa’s study to find her lost in an old text
that took up more than half of her desk. Normally, she'd have felt guilty interrupting her. But not
about this. Not about Jaina.

Lireesa looked up slowly. As if she were moving through water.

“Sylvanas.”

The acknowledgment was simple. Resigned, almost.

She gestured towards the chair in front of her desk and leaned back in her own as she left her
bookmark beneath the lines she'd been pouring over.

“How was your vacation?” Lireesa finally asked once her daughter was settled.

“Much-needed,” Sylvanas said as she touched along the gold embellishments that adorned the
polished wood of the edge of her mother’s desk. “I wanted to speak with you about Jaina.”
Lireesa’s lips curled into a smile so faint anyone other than Sylvanas might have missed it. She
wanted to tell her mother not to bother. That this wasn't a pleasant subject. That she was actually
rather anxious.

Lireesa saw it all in her eyes when those words didn't come, and she shut her book slowly to
place it to the side.

“Speak, child,” Lireesa urged gently, and Sylvanas drew in a slow breath that she released in a
sigh.

“I don't want Dar’Khan to be Jaina’s tutor any longer,” Sylvanas said, deciding to tear the
bandage off all at once. “She told me what they've been doing. I don't like it. I don't want her
getting hurt.”

Lireesa drummed her fingertips against the top of her desk and eyed her daughter warily.

“Sylvanas, there is no one else. I am doing what I can about Dar’Khan. You just have to trust in
me. You know I wouldn't allow anything to happen to her.”

“This has nothing to do with trust, Mother. I just want her to be safe.”

“There isn't time,” Lireesa said without giving Sylvanas much more chance to speak. “There
isn't time, and even if there were, all the magisters in Quel’Thalas would only just equal his
power. We need him.”

“I need her.”

Sylvanas’s voice sounded like an arrow loosed from her lips even to her own ears. Enough of a
challenge that Lireesa sat up a little straighter.

“The entire kingdom needs her, Sylvanas,” Lireesa said in a low tone, and Sylvanas huffed as
she shifted in her chair.

“You act as though she's some sort of commodity,” Sylvanas accused, and Lireesa looked
unphased.

“Is she not?” Lireesa asked without hesitating. Without acknowledging the sudden look of shock
on her daughter’s face. “Do you not feel better for being near her? Stronger? Do you not feel the
sharpness of the Sunwell’s failings dull in her presence?”

Sylvanas froze. She froze because the thought hadn't even occurred to her. Because a lot of
things hadn't occurred to her until that moment.

“You see that I am right, else you'd have more to say,” Lireesa said calmly. “She is many things,
Sylvanas. There must be a mage to rule. Or a mage by the ruler’s side, at the very least. If we
cannot fix whatever it is that's happening, you will have need of her before too long.”

Sylvanas had suddenly lost her voice. Her ability to think clearly. Any and all filter that had once
existed between her mind and her mouth.

“She is a human being, Mother. She deserves better than to be used. She is my wife. She-”
“Will continue to be all of those things, Sylvanas,” Lireesa said dryly. “Enough of your
dramatics. I have a kingdom and its future to think of. Your future to think of.”

“A hollow, empty future,” Sylvanas bit out. “A future without any truth or meaning at all. Jaina
would willingly give everything of herself if we but asked it. But there is no need for that. I
would not risk her. I will not risk her.”

“You forget your place, Sylvanas,” Lireesa said, her eyes flashing though she hadn't so much as
moved an inch.

“And you've forgotten what it means to love,” Sylvanas whispered, her grip on the arms of her
chair desperate and white-knuckled. “Haven’t you? And for how long? Have you ever?”

“Loved?” Lireesa asked with a furrow of her brows and an expression of disbelief on her face at
her daughter's boldness. An expression that let the very tips of her fangs glint in the dim light of
the room.

“You never speak of her,” Sylvanas breathed, refusing to let fear edge its way into her voice.
“You-”

“Enough!” Lireesa’s voice rang sharply in Sylvanas’s ears. There was so much power in it that
Sylvanas flinched. So much power that her mage lights brightened, for a moment, to be almost
blinding before they dimmed to near-darkness.

Sylvanas looked at her mother once she opened her eyes again, and Lireesa couldn't hide her
pain quickly enough. It glistened in her eyes and manifested in the trembling of her hands.

“You need me, too,” Sylvanas whispered, because nearly all of her boldness had fled from her.
“You have always needed me.”

“I will teach her myself,” Lireesa said, and Sylvanas’s expression shifted from one of fear and
apprehension to one of shock. “Leave me. Now.”

“Mother, I-”

“I wish to be alone,” Lireesa breathed, standing from her chair and rolling her stiff shoulders as
she gestured towards the door that led from her study. “Go to your wife. Tell her we will begin
tomorrow.”

“I don't want to leave it like this,” Sylvanas said softly, though she'd already stood on the other
side of the desk. “I didn't mean for it to happen like this.”

“I do need you,” Lireesa affirmed as she looked at her daughter, willing herself back into some
semblance of composure. “And I would do what is within my means to see to your happiness. If
that means teaching your Jaina, myself, then that is what I will do. You needn't feel any guilt. I
wish that you wouldn't.”

“I've wounded you,” Sylvanas insisted quietly. “And that wasn't my intention.”

“You have not wounded me, child. You have irritated me, and that is your job.” Lireesa smirked,
and Sylvanas finally felt some of the tension ease from herself as she lowered her eyes to the
book Lireesa had been reading. A volume so old that even Sylvanas didn't recognize it.

“Poetry,” Lireesa said softly, reaching out to run her fingertips along the spine of the leather-
bound volume. “Come here.”

Sylvanas stepped slowly around the desk to stand in front of her mother, and Lireesa reached for
her to pull her close, cradling the back of her daughter’s head so Sylvanas had little choice but to
rest her cheek against her shoulder. She found she didn't mind it, though, once she was there.

“You love her, then?” Lireesa asked as she stroked over Sylvanas’s hair slowly.

“More than my own life.”

“Then I will teach her well. I will teach her everything that I know, given enough time, and I
will make sure she is safe. I will do this for you.”

“I shouldn't have spoken to you the way that I did,” Sylvanas whispered as she finally wrapped
her arms around her mother, who felt altogether too small, suddenly. “Please forgive me.”

“All is forgiven, Sylvanas. I am glad a week away with your beloved has given you even more
of a voice. If you can speak this way to me, without prettying your words or hiding your
intentions, I am even more sure of my decisions thus far.”

Lireesa pulled back and held Sylvanas by her shoulder so that she could look at her, then.

“Love is a remarkable thing, is it not?” Lireesa asked. “Almost as remarkable as the things it can
make us do.”

Sylvanas nodded and let out a slow sigh, and Lireesa lifted a hand to stroke her cheek. “You are
so brave and so pure of heart and mind. So strong. You are also tired. I can see it in your eyes.
Go to bed. You've had a long journey today, and I'm sure Jaina would like to go to bed with you.
Unless what Areiel tells me is true and the two of you still aren't sharing a room.”

“Jaina is...moving my things back into the master suite right now, actually,” Sylvanas breathed
with a shake of her head and a smile that she could do very little about. “She has a particular
way that she likes things. Especially her books.”

“We will start our lessons on the day after tomorrow, then,” Lireesa said with a soft laugh as she
finally took a seat again. “Off to bed with you.”

Lireesa watched Sylvanas go and slowly turned her attention back to her book. Again, she traced
its spine as her thoughts jumbled atop one another. As her memories chomped at the bit to
overwhelm her. To break free of their prison.

She turned the cover of the book and her eyes fell upon delicate handwriting.

Lireesa-

It is not much, I know. It can never compare to what was lost. But I know how fond you are of
these pieces. I hope their familiarity gives you comfort.
Areiel

She turned another page. Her eyes scanned words her lips had once murmured against soft,
warm, familiar skin. Words of love and longing and devotion that were nearly alien to her now.

She closed the book and stood from her desk to make her way into her parlor where she opened
a window that was almost always shut.

It wasn't long before Valeera made her way inside through it without so much as a single noise.

“I didn't know you had a meeting with Sylvanas this evening,” Valeera said as she shut the
window behind herself.

“Neither did I,” Lireesa sighed. “You did the right thing in waiting.”

“Discretion, you said,” Valeera pointed out. “That sounded like the type of conversation I will
remember should I ever think I might want children.”

Lireesa huffed and finally looked at Valeera to find her dressed all in dark, mottled leathers that
would have her bleeding into her surroundings quite effortlessly.

“You were listening, then?”

“I always listen,” Valeera said with a shrug as she walked over to the sofa and plopped down
along the length of it. “You know this.”

Lireesa hummed her agreement and drifted off for a moment as she took a seat in a chair near
where Valeera was currently sprawled.

“I replaced the stone,” Valeera said as Lireesa went still. “No one saw me. I also watched him
for the better part of the morning and found myself bored to death. Nothing of suspicion to
report. Though, I have the feeling he is the type to work at night.”

“Perhaps tomorrow night, then, you will have something to report. I've no doubt he'll be
otherwise occupied after his...dinner.” Lireesa drawled with a wave of her hand.

“I would still know what he is up to after said dinner,” Valeera said, and Lireesa glanced in her
direction. “Probably just terrible sex, unfortunately.”

Lireesa made a sound in the back of her throat and shook her head as one of Valeera’s legs fell to
the side and dangled off of the sofa.

“I can't relate, personally.”

“Valeera.”

Valeera pushed herself up from the sofa with a little smirk and reached for the leather pouch
Lireesa had produced for her. It was heavy with gold, as it always was when Valeera went above
and beyond or found herself set upon a particularly dangerous task. Meaningless, heavy gold.

She tucked it into a pouch on her belt nonetheless and pulled her hood back over her head. The
motion was so swift and fluid that her ears seemed to thread themselves through the slits in the
dark material of their own accord. But then, nearly everything Valeera did was like that.
Practiced and smooth as the silk of a web. As potentially dangerous as the spider who had
created it.

“I'll excuse myself, then,” Valeera said with a slight bow of her head. “To listen to terrible sex.”

“Go, beast. I find your brashness offensive.”

“My apologies, Majesty,” Valeera said as she bowed so deeply her forehead nearly touched her
knee.

“Out with you,” Lireesa said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I am in no mood to laugh at
your antics, and you are dangerously close to making me laugh.”

Valeera sighed and flashed Lireesa a parting smile before making her way back to the window.
She slipped out much the same way she'd come in. Silently. Like the shadow she had long ago
learned to be.

“Jaina,” Lireesa greeted warmly as Jaina walked into a room she hadn't yet been in. It smelled
unused despite being obviously recently cleaned. It was a practice room not unlike Dar’Khan’s.
Larger, perhaps. Decorated more with comfort in mind than opulence for once. “I do hope you
enjoyed your time away.”

Even Lireesa had forgone her usual courtly attire for something simpler. Just a dark dress with
no embellishments and no corset to be laced. Her hair hung freely in black waves around her
shoulders and the circlet that usually adorned her brow was nowhere to be seen. Jaina found her
as disarming this way as any other.

“I did,” Jaina said. “Very much. Sylvanas tells me you'll be taking over my lessons? I'm
assuming that's why I was brought here.”

“Quite,” Lireesa said as she walked across the room and reached for the books Jaina was
carrying. Jaina relinquished them freely and Lireesa glanced over them quickly before placing
them on a nearby desk. She didn't need to look more closely. She'd written them all. “Very
flashy, these things.”

“The books?” Jaina asked as she cast a curious glance in their direction.

“The spells therein,” Lireesa corrected. “The spells you've learned thus far. Flashy displays of
power. Sometimes to the point of wastefulness. I'd have shuddered in my youth to hear myself
speak this way, but over the years I've come to learn the value of subtlety.”

“I must say I was surprised to learn you would be teaching me. I can't imagine a greater honor,
regardless of who I am. Sylvanas said you haven't taught anyone in a very long time.”

“True enough, but a necessity is a necessity and here we are.”

“I would be lying if I told you I wasn't nervous,” Jaina admitted, feeling rather at a loss now that
she didn't have her books in her hand to hold onto.
“There is nothing to be nervous about. We aren't going to be conjuring images or setting fires
today. Do you remember when I spoke to you in the chamber of the Sunwell? When I could feel
the way its magic was battering you?”

Jaina’s brow furrowed as she watched Lireesa sit on the edge of her desk and fold her hands in
her lap.

“Yes, only...you didn't truly speak to me. Sylvanas didn't hear you, for example. I would have
thought if one were capable of speaking into another’s mind, Dar’Khan might have mentioned it
by now.”

“Dar’Khan doesn't possess this power,” Lireesa said simply with an even simpler shrug. “Or any
like it, or he would have seen that your mental shields were quite weak and underdeveloped. He
might have, had he ever thought it worth his time. And so, that is where we will start. With the
magic of the mind.”

Jaina glanced towards her books quickly. To the notebook that was on the bottom of the stack.
Her hands itched to reach for it so that she could add to the countless pages she'd already
scribbled, but she forced herself to look back to Lireesa.

“This mind magic...I...you read me as though I was a book. I appreciated your warning, but what
if you had seen something you didn't want to see? Or something that I didn't want you to see?”

“Is this a question of ethics, Jaina?” Lireesa asked with a little smile quirking the corners of her
lips.

“I suppose it is.”

Lireesa stood from the corner of her desk and began walking along the bookshelf behind it that
wrapped the room, touching along various volumes as she spoke.

“What are thoughts and memories if not magic? Do they not ebb and flow much like leylines?
Intangible? Wild? Formless, unless we form them ourselves?”

Jaina blinked as she mulled these statements over.

“Well?”

Questions, then, Jaina realized. They'd actually been questions. Something she wasn't used to
from Dar’Khan.

“I suppose,” Jaina said after thinking it over. “I suppose it depends upon reasoning and end
result much like any other type of magic.”

“If I were to pluck a cherished memory from you right now, that you might never again recall
it?” Lireesa asked as she came to a sudden stop and slipped a book from its place.

“That would be terrible,” Jaina said quietly.

“Quite,” Lireesa agreed as she moved towards Jaina and handed her the book. “And what if that
memory was terrible? What if it pained you? Burrowed into your thoughts like a barbed
arrowhead and festered there? Made your mind ill? What if I took it, then?”

Jaina swallowed thickly as though it would buy her some time to think. Not that Lireesa seemed
in any way impatient. Quite the opposite, really.

“I don't know, honestly,” Jaina said. “It seems almost too simple a solution.”

“True enough,” Lireesa said. “Very good. The other side of the card is that every magic comes
with a price. You and I both know this. I'm sure you've suffered many a headache by now. Open
the book to the first page, won't you?”

Jaina opened the book gladly. Books, she understood. Books, she could wrap her head around.

And even as she looked over the words - words hand-written in Thalassian - Lireesa recited
them aloud. She read them in much the same way Jaina’s inner voice would have, and as such, it
took Jaina a moment to realize what was happening. When she did, she looked up quickly to
find Lireesa smiling at her.

“Stop me, Jaina,” Lireesa said calmly. “Any mage, however untrained, has blocks and wards in
place. A mage like Dar’Khan or myself is nigh impenetrable. You, on the other hand, have many
cracks. Many irregularities that are easy to learn and to slip through. Read again.”

Jaina did. This time, though, she could feel the subtle intrusion. It hadn't felt at all dangerous the
first time, and it didn't now, either. Lireesa’s presence was almost comforting, and Jaina realized
then that it was likely on purpose that it felt this way. She heard Lireesa falter in her reciting a
time or two as she tried to focus both on reading and on keeping her out.

Finally, though, it clicked. The pieces of her mental walls turned into something solid and
smooth that Lireesa slid from instead of snaking inside of.

“Good,” Lireesa said as Jaina looked up from the book. “That is how a mage will try to read
you, you know. Dar’Khan likely has a hundred times by now. He cannot manipulate, but we can
all See. Perhaps not in the same way as I can. Through another’s eyes. But we all can, to some
extent. It will never feel like an attack, and so - it is easy to be caught off-guard. But now, you
know. How it might feel, I mean.”

“It didn't feel like something I didn't want,” Jaina observed as she shut the book and looked at
Lireesa thoughtfully.

“No, it never does. This kind of magic can very much be used to harm, but that is rare. The
weaponizing of one's own thoughts and memories is a dark path, indeed, to begin to tread. At
times, though, it might be the only path. That is a lesson for another day, however. I would like
for you to do what I've just done to you to myself.”

If Jaina looked shocked, it's because she was. Lireesa only chuckled and reached for the book
Jaina was holding to place it aside.

“You needn't try anything so advanced as seeing through my eyes just yet. Simply look. Try.
Here, come sit with me.”
Lireesa reached out and placed a hand on Jaina’s shoulder to guide her across the room towards
a pile of cushions. They were soft and forgiving as Jaina sank down in them near Lireesa, who
seemed just as pleased with them if looks were anything to go by.

“At your leisure, Jaina,” Lireesa said, crossing her hands over her stomach and shutting her eyes
as she declined into the cushions in order to relax herself and remove as many distractions and
obstacles as possible.

Jaina found, as she extended herself in much the same way as she did when casting a spell, that
Lireesa’s mind felt very…strange. In some places, her efforts slid away as though she'd come
into contact with ice. In others, even so much as probing was almost painful in an all too
physical way.

“You are doing just fine,” Lireesa reassured quietly. “But you must give more of yourself in
order to see. It is subtle, yes, but not without power. Just a different sort of power, altogether.”

Lireesa’s voice was so even and soft that Jaina felt some of her nervousness fade. She started
again - centering herself and then reaching out with much, much more confidence, and-

“Mother!”

“Yes, Sylvanas?” Lireesa’s voice was as warm as the sun on their faces as she looked down with
an equally warm smile to the child walking beside her only to discover her arms outstretched
expectantly.

“Oh, would you like a ride, my lazy one?”

Sylvanas beamed up at her mother, and Lireesa snatched her up with a chuckle and half-tossed
her onto her shoulders. She never even stopped to catch her footing as Sylvanas settled in for
their morning walk with a broad smile on her young face.

“Make me a butterfly,” Lireesa said. “In exchange for my services.”

“What color?” Sylvanas asked as she looked at a very real group of butterflies nearby.

“Hm. Purple, if you would.”

Sylvanas squinted her eyes hard and, quite suddenly, a much less real butterfly appeared in front
of them. Very purple, though. Just as Lireesa had asked. It flickered back out of being and
Lireesa gave Sylvanas’s ankles a little squeeze of encouragement where they hung against her
chest.

“You will surpass me soon, I fear,” Lireesa lamented much to Sylvanas’s clear and very vocal
amusement. Lireesa did so love to hear her daughter’s delighted giggles in these gardens. “And
then what shall I do?”

“I'll protect you, Mom,” Sylvanas reassured, patting the gleaming black hair atop her mother’s
head. “Don't worry.”

“Jaina, you risk losing yourself if you linger too long.”

Lireesa spoke just as she had been, and yet-

Jaina realized she was speaking to her, now, and pulled away with a sharp gasp and a very
physical lurch.

Lireesa looked only vaguely uncomfortable as she reached out to pat Jaina’s hand.

“That was very impressive, dear,” Lireesa said. “If a bit heavy-handed.”

“Did I hurt you?” Jaina asked, worry rampant and open in her expression.

“It will pass quickly. Get us some water and you may try again without my having to intervene.”

Jaina got to her feet and found herself only a little lacking in balance. Having expected much
worse, she was all too glad to go towards the crystal pitcher across the room to pour them each a
glass before she returned to her and Lireesa’s pile of cushions.

Lireesa took the glass from her and had a few sips before placing it aside and observing Jaina
quietly.

“Have you any questions for me?” She finally asked once Jaina had enough water.

Jaina could think of a million questions. Perhaps even more than that.

“You seemed so very different,” Jaina finally said, though she regretted those words the moment
they left her. “That was too personal.”

“We are family,” Lireesa said. “Nothing is too personal. That was before. Before the Sunwell
began to dim. When our peace had stretched for millennia and life was nothing but a comfort.
And Sylvanas was a child. Children require softness and care. Nurturing.”

Jaina’s thoughts drifted to Vereesa, whom Jaina saw with a carer more often than not. An older
elf that Jaina had yet to be introduced to. She looked kind. Soft. Likely very skilled at rearing
children for those who weren't so inclined.

Lireesa smiled a rather hollow smile at her and looked down at the floor in front of them, and
Jaina’s eyes widened.

“I don't often need to See in order to know what is on people's minds, Jaina. When you have
lived as long as I have, you learn more about others than you might ever care to know. I am not
reading your thoughts, now. You needn't worry.”

Jaina nodded and Lireesa reached for her water again, but only held it in her lap as she spoke.

“You found that memory because it was quite easy for you to find once you powered your way
in. Sylvanas is the person you are most familiar with of all the people in my mind. Find one of
someone you do not know, next, however desired such memories of one you love might be. I
can share them with you at our leisure another time.”

Jaina nodded again and took a deep breath to steady herself. This time, she went more slowly.
She glossed over places that felt like her wife, for she'd learned rather quickly that that meant
they would involve her directly. She even passed memories that felt like others she knew.
Liadrin. Alleria. She didn't stop until she came up against a rather strange, foreign feeling. Like
an empty place in a sea of bounty.

She forced herself from veering into apprehension and pressed onward into the strange, inky
feeling surrounding this particular place.

“You shouldn't stray so far from me for so long,” those words came out warm and low against
the nape of Lireesa’s neck as both the body pressed along her back and the fire in front of her
began to thaw the aches from her joints. The fire, and the healing magic seeking out any wounds
only to find none. Even when it had nothing left to work on, it was still a welcome warmth
against her skin.

“It only makes the reunion all the sweeter, does it not?” Lireesa asked with a playful smile.

A smile that was returned against her skin just before a kiss. “Perhaps. That remains to be
seen.”

“You tease me, my Priestess,” Lireesa breathed as her eyes shifted to the hand trailing over her
stomach. To runes tattooed along slender fingers - spiraling around a delicate wrist.

“And you drive me wild with want in your absence, my Devil Woman-”

Lireesa had only just begun to laugh and turn over when Jaina realized suddenly that she should
not be here. She should not be here.

When Jaina snapped back into herself, she looked quickly to Lireesa to find a terrible, terrible
sight.

She had never seen another being look so broken. She had never seen another living thing look
so fragmented. From the almost wild look in her eyes to the shaking of her hands.

Her hands.

It was only then that Jaina realized the glass of water Lireesa had been holding had fallen. That
the crystal had shattered against the marble floor beside the cushions and, perhaps, been the only
reason Jaina had come to herself.

“I'll-” Jaina shot up from her seat despite how her head was spinning. “Let me...just…”

Lireesa swallowed past the unbearable ache in her throat. She forced a breath into her lungs.
And another. Each of them burned like fire in her gut.

“No need, child.”

With a simple wave of her hand, the glass was whole again. The water was back in its place and
she was holding both as if nothing had happened. Her voice had been a whisper. It still was.
“Forgive me.”

Jaina watched as Lireesa, calmly now, placed the glass aside again and gestured towards the
door.
“There is someone in the hall. Our lunch, I think. Won't you see to it while I…” Lireesa trailed
off, and Jaina didn't make her attempt to finish. She simply rushed to see that it be done with her
face and her ears red and hot with embarrassment and confusion and guilt heavy in her chest.
Guilt for something she didn't understand in the least. Something she wasn't sure she wanted to
understand. And even if she did, she would rather walk into the sea than see Lireesa like that
ever again.

Jaina chose to cart their lunch into the parlor rather than the practice room. She felt so sick with
worry she couldn't even think of eating despite how hungry she'd been. In fact, she did little
more than pace about the room until the sound of the door opening froze her in place.

“You aren't hungry?” Lireesa asked as she walked over towards Jaina with a smile.

“I think all I can be right now is sorry, and I am not even sure what I'm sorry for. Only that-”

“Shh-Shh. Jaina, my darling girl. You did only what was asked of you. I simply...well. I wasn't
aware of your capabilities, and neither were you. You should never, by all accounts, have been
able to reach so deeply and past so much. You did so well. Truly. As I said, all magic requires a
price. Perhaps this was our price today, hm?”

Jaina was rather shocked at the sudden turn-around, though she hid it well. It was almost as
though there was another person in this room with her, entirely. She nodded, though. She didn't
dare question it.

“Would you eat, as well?” Jaina asked instead. “I can make a plate for you. You could sit and
rest and I'll bring it to you wherever you'd like. Your study, perhaps?”

There were no windows there. Jaina had committed to memory seemingly little, insignificant
things like the fact that Lireesa seemed to favor rooms without them. She was scrambling.

“I'll eat later, Jaina. But I will have a glass of wine with you while you eat here. Here is just fine,
by the way. I might even steal a honeyed bun from your plate, were you to put an extra one
there.”

Jaina’s frayed nerves finally began to gather themselves back into some semblance of normalcy.
Nothing about the way Lireesa was behaving seemed forced or feigned. She seemed just fine.

Perhaps it had just been the rather sexual subject matter. Perhaps Jaina had shifted some things
around and left Lireesa in a worse state than she could've known she would. Either way, she
seemed genuinely fine, and Jaina was endlessly thankful for that fact.

They ate in silence that was somehow heavy and comfortable all at once. Lireesa took more than
just a bun, and each time - she gave Jaina a smile that Jaina would've found almost mischievous
on anyone less dignified and regal as Lireesa. Even still. The smiles were awfully mischievous.
The wine seemed to complete whatever putting-together Lireesa had needed to do. Even the
little, occasional tremors in her hands had stopped by the time Jaina was regrettably full.
Regrettably, because the food in the palace was, without fail, the best food Jaina had ever had.
Every single time.

Lireesa filled the remainder of their afternoon with texts for Jaina. Volumes meant only for her
eyes that were not to leave her and Sylvanas’s suite outside of their lessons. Ones that were
written in ink instead of printed containing runes Jaina had never seen even in all of her
seemingly endless reading in both Dar'Khan's library as well as that of the palace.

More than one of the volumes, Jaina discovered, was about wards. Lireesa was looking over her
shoulder before she even had to ask. Jaina learned just how powerful they could be. Just how
unique to each and every mage they belonged to.

She also learned how to make her own. Wards so strong that even Lireesa had difficulty seeing
past them, much less doing so without triggering Jaina’s senses.

She learned so quickly and so thoroughly that Lireesa sent her off an hour earlier than they'd
scheduled because she knew, now, that she would have to revise the path she'd initially decided
to take.

And because the moment Jaina left, Lireesa only just made it to the nearest chair before she
collapsed into exhaustion. She was almost certain her eyes had only just shut when she was
startled awake by a sudden presence in the darkness of her room.

“It’s only me,” Areiel’s voice was soft from the chair next to Lireesa’s. Soothing.

Lireesa let out a shuddering groan as her stomach turned and her head threatened to split in two
the moment she opened her eyes despite the lack of light in the room.

“Steady,” Areiel whispered as she looked at Lireesa with a furrow between her brows. “Drink
this.”

Lireesa tried to reach for the warmth of the mug Areiel was holding, but her hands were too
unsure, and Ariel shook her head.

“Let me.”

Lireesa allowed Areiel to lift the mug to her lips because she had no choice, really. She didn’t
stop drinking until the entire bitter brew was down because even a moment longer of this
anguish would have been unbearable.

Areiel placed the mug aside and, before Lireesa knew it, Areiel was pulling her from the chair.

“The sofa,” Areiel said simply. “I can’t carry you, anymore.”

Lireesa didn’t necessarily understand that statement, right then. She could only believe it and do
her best to help Areiel get her moved so she could lay down.

Areiel lowered herself onto the cushion against Lireesa’s side with a sigh, and Lireesa shut her
eyes again. Her vision was so blurry there was no use trying to see, anyway. Soon enough,
though, there was a cool, damp cloth over her forehead and Areiel was removing herself to sit in
the chair Lireesa had only just been occupying, if only to be closer to her without being too
close.

“Don’t nag me, Areiel,” Lireesa whispered weakly. “Please.”

“I won’t,” Areiel said, sounding almost wounded. “I knew you would be in a state after your
first lesson. It’s been so long since you pushed yourself. I was only worried.”

“How long have you been here?” Lireesa asked as she lifted a hand to cover the cloth, finding it
blissful against her eyes and her face.

Areiel was quiet for a while before she finally answered.

“A long time. It’s nearly morning.”

“You must be exhausted,” Lireesa sighed, and Areiel looked over at her again. She was surprised
to find Lireesa looking back at her. Her brews must have been getting strong of late.

“I’m fine,” Areiel reassured with a faint smile as she fiddled with the golden handle of the cane
still resting between her legs.

Lireesa’s attention shifted to that very cane, and she stared at it for a long while as she
swallowed a few times.

“Your construct…” Lireesa murmured.

“Has been living on borrowed time for years, and will serve me just the same now as it did
before. Besides, you should see all the attention this gets me.”

Lireesa stared for a while longer before she slowly looked up at the vaulted ceiling above her.

“I’ll have Dar’Khan-”

“No, no,” Areiel leaned forward and nearly reached out to touch Lireesa before she faltered and
set her jaw. “No, I am the last thing you need to worry with. And Dar’Khan’s is the last help I
could ever desire. If I’m not to nag you, the least you could do is return the favor, no?”

“I suppose,” Lireesa sighed and winced almost in the same breath. The sudden pang in her
stomach was something she was entirely unused to. She tried to push herself up from the couch
and only then did Areiel finally touch her only to guide her gently back down. Her hand didn’t
linger, yet the warmth of it did.

“Tell me what you need,” Areiel said as she stood and leaned some of her weight on her cane
while she waited.

Lireesa looked up at her. Looked her up and down. Smiled softly.

“You are fetching with that cane,” She observed before shutting her eyes again for just a
moment. “I’m sure all the rangers are talking.” Lireesa meant that. Areiel had always been
striking. She was tall. Lithe. Her shoulders were broad and square and her features were sharp
and defined, yet there had always been a softness to her eyes. A mercurial softness that drifted in
between something like playfulness and warmth with no small amount of mischief in between.
Her hair, now, was silvery-white where it had once been platinum and her frequent wry smiles
had left attractive lines at the corners of her eyes and much softer ones at the sides of her mouth.
Lireesa would have envied her, were she to allow herself such a sentiment. She would have
envied her grace and her easy nature. Her casual, free love and the fullness with which it felt she
lived life.

Lireesa would have envied her all of those things if she believed they were something one could
miss out on.

“Mm. Quite. Now, what do you need?” Areiel’s tone wasn’t dismissive. More matter-of-fact
than anything, really.

“I despise this,” Lireesa lamented, and Areiel snorted.

“I know. And I enjoy it.” Areiel said with a lift of her brow, and Lireesa cut her eyes in her
direction.

“Food.” She said dryly. “I am starving.”

Areiel smiled. A rather fond, familiar smile. She looked almost relieved. She couldn’t recall the
last time Lireesa had admitted to something so pedestrian as hunger.

“What are you in the mood for, then? I’ll even go to the kitchens and pilfer the pantries if you’d
like.”

“Would you?” Lireesa asked, and there was a shift in her tone. One that Areiel was sure hadn’t
been intentional. Vulnerability, perhaps.

Areiel saw the realization flash across Lireesa’s face, and she wouldn’t have mentioned it for
anything in the world.

“Of course I would. I have done far, far worse for you than anger Sylann.”

“How ridiculous of you to insinuate that woman could ever be angry at someone so flawless and
beyond reproach as you,” Lireesa jabbed, and Areiel grinned - relieved Lireesa seemed to take
her statement far more lightly than she’d necessarily meant it without having meant to.

“I anger her frequently, actually,” Areiel corrected as though it was a genuine insult to suggest
otherwise.

“I have absolutely no doubt. I don’t know how she puts up with you.”

“That wounded me deeply,” Areiel drawled, and Lireesa laughed as she shook her head and
peered up at Areiel through half-shut eyes. Her smile faded slowly as they looked at each other
in silence that Lireesa eventually broke.

“She is a lucky woman, Areiel. But I’m afraid I would very much appreciate if you would go
steal a fresh loaf of bread and a bird if they’ve already been roasted for the day.”

“I can do that,” Areiel said. “Perhaps I will steal myself a kiss, as well.”

“Try not to steal much more,” Lireesa said as she watched Areiel turn and make her way
towards the door. She was relieved to find Areiel quite handy with the cane - moving as though
she was unbothered by its necessity. “Lest I starve while you debase my most prized cook.”

Areiel looked at Lireesa over her shoulder as she reached for the handle of the door, and Lireesa
would have rolled her eyes in response to Areiel’s wink if she wasn’t sure that would be
altogether too painful right then.
 Alekhine's Gun

Bishops, hampered by their creed,

Follow where diagonals lead;
Whether black or red they be,
There they cling religiously.
From the palace to the grave
Bishops never misbehave.
-Peter B. Payne

“How fast can you make it back to the palace?” Alleria asked as her and her Rangers surrounded
the shattered remnants of the stone they'd been trekking to for days, now.

Verana swallowed thickly as she surveyed the clearing they'd come upon that had left them all
stunned. She didn't need clarification to know Alleria had been addressing her. Her speed was
why she was here, after all. So far from home.

“Four days,” she said, trying to sound as steady as she could. They had younger rangers with
them, after all. “If I pick up a fresh horse on the way.”

Alleria was the first to move towards the stone. Even as much as she was lacking in magical
sensitivity, she could feel how it had suffered - blackened and splintered into nothing more than
remnants of a pillar that had stood for millennia.

“What could have done this?” Verana asked. Alleria had been so engrossed she hadn't even
realized her lover had moved to stand at her side.

“I don't know. I'll collect a sample. Go directly to Lireesa with it and no one else,” Alleria trailed
off for a moment as she tried to collect herself. “Tell her the Gatekeeper is waning. That the chill
is creeping in from the North.”

Alleria said all these things quietly before she turned to address the rest of her Rangers.

“I want one of you a mile out in each direction. I want every print that you find to be identified
and reported back to me. We will camp here tonight. I don't expect any of you back before then,
anyway. Not if you are looking thoroughly enough for my liking.”

Alleria listened to her rangers drop their packs on the ground and leave rather quickly to carry
out their orders. Once they were gone, she stepped over a few charred crystalline shards and
knelt down where the base of the pillar had once been. She reached down with a gloved hand to
wipe the blackness away to find what little remained of the crystal tainted a sickly green. Sickly,
because even through her gloves, she felt her stomach turn as a result of touching it.

Quickly, she pulled a small leather pouch from her belt and slipped a few shards into it before
she stood and looked at Verana.

“My Sun,” Verana said quietly as Alleria approached her. Verana was quick to rest her hands on
Alleria’s arms when she found all the worry in the world in her lover’s eyes. “What is
happening?”

Alleria shook her head. A barely perceptible motion.

“Something terrible,” Alleria whispered. “And I fear for your safety in having you carry this
message. This is no simple failing of magic. No accident. It was destroyed utterly.”

“But how?” Verana asked, and she stopped trying to hide the tremor in her voice. “Not an
outsider surely. The shield yet lives.”

Alleria pressed the leather pouch into Verana’s hands and closed them around it tightly before
she leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to her temple.

“I've only just gotten you back,” Alleria whispered against Verana’s skin. “But I'm afraid you
have to go again now. At once.”

Verana licked her cold-chapped lips and pressed close enough to Alleria to rest her head on her
shoulder for a moment or two. “Give me a reason to run.”

“A hot bath after you've delivered this message. A soak in the pools beneath the palace.” Alleria
knew that wasn't what Verana was looking for, yet she played the game, nonetheless.

Except Verana didn't laugh. She didn't say anything. She only pressed against her even tighter
until Alleria finally wrapped her arms around her.
“I will be right behind you come morning,” Alleria finally said. “And only a day or two behind
you in arriving. Is that enough reason for you to run?”

“Yes,” Verana sighed before she finally pulled back and reached up to cradle Alleria’s cheek in
her hand. “See to it that you come to me safely and in one piece.”

“It isn't I that has to deliver the news of a crippling blow to Lireesa,” Alleria tried to joke, but
her tone was just a little off. Her attempt at a smile faded. “I will do everything I can as safely as
I can until I see you again.”

Verana ran her thumb over the corner of Alleria’s mouth then before she pulled away. The
leather of her glove had been so supple against her skin that Alleria nearly flinched when the
cold air hit it again.

No more words passed between them before Verana made it to the edge of the clearing and
darted straight for the next village without even needing to establish her bearings.

Liadrin was shivering as she oversaw the pitching of their army’s tents. The smell of smoke from
the ridge below was acrid and sharp in her nose. Burning timber. Burning flesh. She kept telling
herself she would feel better when Lireesa joined them again. Over and over, she told herself.

Yet, when the sight of movement atop the ridge caught her eye, she felt rather more chilled than
comforted by the sight of Lireesa moving through the snow and over the rock towards their
camp.

Even so, Liadrin made her way towards her with as little apprehension as she could.

“Have the survivors made it down into the valley?” Lireesa asked simply, and Liadrin could
smell the smoke even stronger on her clothes than she could in the air.

“They have,” Liadrin said, her voice hoarse and her face haggard and worn despite her young
years. “And what of those behind us?”

Lireesa met and held Liadrin’s gaze for a long while.

“You would do well not to think too hard about what lies behind us, Liadrin,” Lireesa finally
said. “There will be much more left in our wake than a few already-dying kinsmen when all is
said and done.”

Liadrin nodded faintly and lowered her gaze. Lireesa’s wasn't an easy one to hold. Not anymore.

“How are our numbers? Have they enough food for the night?” Lireesa asked, directing
Liadrin’s attention to something else. Anything else. She didn't have the strength to offer comfort
right then.

“No,” Liadrin sighed. “I gave my portion up, as did Areiel. Most of the older ones have, as well.
The cold is spreading our rations thin.”

Lireesa hummed low in her throat and walked past Liadrin towards the camp. Liadrin followed
as she always did, and she watched as Lireesa went to each and every one with conjured food.
Hearty bread, from the looks of it. Bread that steamed in the cold somehow.

Liadrin remembered a time when she'd been young and Lireesa used to make her little sweets
now and again. Rare treats bestowed upon her and Alleria for a successful hunt or various other
good deeds.

But to feed an army…

And yet it seemed she wasn't done.

Even as Liadrin watched, Lireesa looked skyward and lifted one of her hands.

Everyone looked, then, despite their hunger and the sudden, unexpected presence of fresh bread.
They couldn't help but allow their eyes to be drawn to their leader in the center of the camp -
runes glowing brightly as they extended from their hand and up higher and higher. They were all
too exhausted to express their shock when, at the apex of its journey, Lireesa’s magic spread to
encompass the entirety of the clearing.

The cold abated and was replaced, instead, by warmth. The snow began to melt from their
leather and their armor as they all looked on in amazement.

Liadrin slowly lowered her gaze from the barrier Lireesa had conjured, and she was met with
the steely glow of her eyes.

“Rest,” Lireesa said, and though she didn't raise her voice, the silence was so all-encompassing
every set of ears in the camp heard her. “At dawn, we march.”

She walked away from the center of their camp and all the eyes that had come to rest on her
averted to the gift of food that had been given them.

Liadrin fell into step beside her.

“Will this magic not draw them to us as surely as our fires would, had we been lighting them?”
Liadrin asked quietly enough that only Lireesa would hear her.

“Let them come,” Lireesa said. “Let them burn like all the others for what they’ve done.”

Lireesa’s tone had been so final. So dark. As dark as the look on her face that stopped Liadrin in
her tracks even as Lireesa kept walking past the barrier she had created for them and beyond
into the cold and the coming night.

Liadrin’s eyes opened slowly to the sensation of warmth against the back of her neck and along
her shoulders.

Valeera, she reminded herself as she turned to face her. Valeera was here with her in her bed.
There was no snow outside. No battles to fight. And yet, her nose still burned with smoke. The
memory lingered so insistently that Liadrin found it difficult to clear her muddled thoughts in
the darkness of her bedroom. So, when Valeera silently stroked the tears away from her face,
only then did she feel shame. Only then did she realize she'd woken up crying.
“What haunts you, my brave knight? Hm?” Valeera asked in a whisper as she slowly, carefully
drew Liadrin in close against her chest into her arms. “Have my demons slipped into your
dreams?”

Liadrin tried to speak, but she only made a small, broken noise that got trapped in her throat. A
noise that made her feel ill, much like Valeera felt as she instinctively held her that much closer.

Unlike herself. Vulnerable.

Valeera didn't have the wherewithal to analyze why she was the one feeling vulnerable when
Liadrin was clearly teetering on the edge of a mental break of some sort.

“I despise this,” Liadrin whispered, and her voice came out in a tremor against Valeera’s chest.
She was shaking, Valeera realized, as she lifted a hand to the back of her head.

“What do you despise?” Valeera asked, running her hand through Liadrin’s hair to smooth the
mess it was still in.

“The dreams,” Liadrin breathed, and her entire body tensed for a moment before she slowly
moved to sit up. Valeera followed, much to her own surprise, and reached to rest a hand along
Liadrin’s inner thigh where the sheets had left it exposed. “They aren’t dreams at all. They’re
things that’ve happened. I know it. Things I’ve...forgotten. I think I’ve forgotten them. They’re
so vivid. They’re so real. It feels like I’m there, and if I...I feel like I’m going mad.”

“You aren’t going mad,” Valeera murmured as she rested her forehead against Liadrin’s back
and sighed. “If you are, then so am I. I’m suffering from much the same. That’s why I prefer to
watch you sleep, I suppose, to sleeping, myself.” That’s what she told herself. A convenient
excuse.

Liadrin hung her head into her own hands and threaded her fingers in her own hair tightly as
Valeera watched her in the dark. There was still a sheen of sweat across her shoulders. Her ribs
still shifted visibly beneath the muscles of her side with each quick breath she took.

“What do you dream?” Valeera finally asked after a long span of silence.

“I can't say,” Liadrin whispered, rubbing her own face and flexing her shoulders in a way that
caused Valeera to stop leaning against her. She’d have felt rather shunned if she were so
inclined. She wasn’t. She knew this feeling intimately. “I'm sorry.”

Instead of prying, Valeera slowly moved away from Liadrin towards a bottle of wine they'd left
half-finished earlier that evening. Liadrin was watching her by the time she was back, and
Valeera beckoned her to the edge of the bed with a simple, subtle gesture that Liadrin was in no
state to ignore.

Valeera lifted the bottle to Liadrin’s lips carefully and once she'd had enough, Valeera leaned
down to kiss the taste from her mouth.

Almost as soon as Valeera’s tongue grazed Liadrin’s, Liadrin was pulling at her insistently to get
her back into bed.
“I have to go soon,” Valeera breathed against Liadrin’s shoulder as she was turned onto her
back. And even if she didn't have an appointment with a dark corner of the hallway outside of
Dar’Khan’s rooms, Valeera wasn't sure how much longer she could cope with the ache in her
chest when she knew it wasn't for herself. She had never hurt for someone else before.

And it hurt so much more than she'd expected it to.

“I know,” Liadrin whispered, and she hesitated for a moment before she began removing herself
from Valeera only to find Valeera catching one of her arms tightly.

“Not just yet, though,” Valeera said, despite her better judgment.

And, to Valeera’s surprise, Liadrin chose to use what little time they had left to simply lay her
head against her chest.

The ache Valeera felt doubled over on itself. Liadrin’s pain was like an open wound to her, and
her sudden willingness to open herself like this was as good as salt.

Jaina sighed quietly as she nudged the door to her suite closed and finally lost one of the books
that had been teetering precariously on top of the most recent pile Lireesa had sent her off with.
After a few more mishaps, she finally managed to safely stack them on the table in front of the
sofa so she could begin reading through them tomorrow.

Her next concern was the fact that Sylvanas was nowhere to be seen and she'd missed her
terribly all day. She tried not to feel too disappointed by her absence. She was so very busy, after
all, fielding reports and...well. Whatever else it was that she did. Jaina despised bureaucracy.

Even still, these rooms smelled like her. Felt like her. Like them. They'd begun to feel like home.
More like home than anything she'd ever experienced thus far in her life.

She didn't feel like staying up to enjoy it, though. She was exhausted from the work her and
Lireesa had done that day, and luckily their bed smelled even more like Sylvanas than their
living room, so that's where she went.

Jaina didn't even make it a foot into the door before she found herself tripping over a pair of
boots left just inside the door. Odd, Jaina thought to herself as she reached down for them to
move them out of the way. Sylvanas was usually so fastidious, even if she had to rush home to
change for some function or other in the middle of the day.

That's when she realized as she looked around the dark room that Sylvanas was, in fact, here.
Very much here. Very much sprawled across the bed face-first and as naked as ever Jaina had
seen her. And she was snoring. Softly.

Jaina couldn't help but smile as she moved further into the room to collect a trail of clothes that
were too nice to be left on the floor the way they had been. She spared none too few glances in
her wife’s direction as she straightened up. She was beautiful, after all. And comfortable enough
to sleep how Jaina assumed she always had. This was a rather new development, actually. Even
sharing this room with her was fresh and wonderful, so Jaina was just fine with collecting her
wife’s clothing and placing it all aside to be dealt with later.
“M’sorry,” Sylvanas mumbled from the bed, her voice hoarse with sleep and her eyes barely
opened, yet focused on Jaina nonetheless.

“Don’t be,” Jaina reassured her as she activated just one mage light and only brightly enough so
she could get herself out of her dress without tripping on anything else. First, though, she went
to the bed and leaned over it to press her lips to her wife’s forehead. “No fever. Are you sick?”

“Just tired,” Sylvanas explained as she turned over onto her back. “Just glad you're here.”

Jaina didn't mind the fact that her face flushed as Sylvanas brazenly put herself on display. She
liked the knowing smile it brought to her wife’s face.

“Do you need help with your dress?” Sylvanas then asked as she reached up to toy with the
collar of it now that it was in reach. “I'm terribly lonely.”

“Are you?” Jaina asked with a little smile. “I think you're terribly stunning.”

Sylvanas let out a little breath of a laugh because she knew. And Jaina knew she knew. And
there was nothing wrong with that. There was nothing wrong with the way Jaina’s eyes
wandered as Sylvanas stretched when Jaina began working her dress off her own shoulders.

It was terrible to think how her wife had earned such a body and the scars that adorned it. But
was it terrible to be so very attracted to it, she wondered? Did the rather violent implications
bleed into the carnality of it all?

And then she stepped out of her dress and Sylvanas’s ears stood at alert as they were apt to do
when she liked what she saw, and any such implications fled Jaina’s mind as she smiled rather
demurely at her wife. Her rather precious, raptly attentive wife.

“I thought you were exhausted,” Jaina said as she finally got into bed and moved to lay on her
side close to Sylvanas.

“I am a complex being, Jaina,” Sylvanas explained while one of her hands came to rest along
Jaina’s bare side. “Capable of feeling many things at once.”

“If you're tired you should rest,” Jaina countered as she drew Sylvanas’s hand from where it was
dangerously close to reaching her breast only to press a gentle kiss against her wife’s knuckles.
“That I might service my noble prince while she recuperates from her harrowing day.”

Sylvanas’s mood shifted at least a handful of times within a moment as Jaina’s rather skillful
wordplay had her scrambling to keep up.

“When I was a child and made funny faces adults would always tell me I would be stuck like
that,” Jaina said much to Sylvanas’s confusion as she watched Sylvanas roll onto her back and
get propped against the pillows comfortably. “I wonder if the same could be said about your
ears.”

Sylvanas pouted at her immediately.

“That was mean,” Sylvanas complained half-heartedly, and Jaina smiled at her fondly as she sat
up next to her and ran a hand along her stomach to feel the toned muscle and soft, warm skin
there. “I can't help it.”

“I know you can't,” Jaina murmured as she finally slid her hand a little higher to trace the curve
of one of her wife’s breasts. “I love it so much.”

Sylvanas’s ears shot right back up to where they'd been since Jaina’s dress landed on the floor,
and Jaina pressed a smile against her wife's cheek before kissing it. Sylvanas might have had
something more to say had Jaina’s thumb not found her nipple to brush slow, lazy circles around
it.

“I'm glad you do,” Sylvanas said quietly as she leaned her head back into the pillows and let out
a shuddering breath when Jaina palmed her breast and gave it a teasing squeeze.

Jaina was growing bolder all the time, now. Even more confident than she'd been on their first
night together. She'd fallen into the role of relieving Sylvanas of her burden of control
effortlessly, and tonight was no different as she leaned in to brush her lips against Sylvanas’s ear
as she whispered.

“Would my prince spread her legs for me, that I might taste her? That she might come undone
for me?” Jaina asked as her hand slowly trailed to her wife’s hips - finding the cut of muscle
there and drawing a line down it and to the crook of her inner thigh.

“Would it please you?” Sylvanas asked as she tilted her head when Jaina seemed content to kiss
and nibble along the side of her neck. “Were I to come undone for you?”

“I want nothing more,” Jaina whispered without hesitation and, almost immediately, Sylvanas
parted one of her thighs to the side.

Jaina glanced down to find Sylvanas glistening for her, and the new and exciting rush of power
she felt was just as new and exciting as ever. Only now, she knew much better what to do with it.

“Pretty,” Jaina whispered, and Sylvanas made a sound in the back of her throat when Jaina
cupped her without providing any real relief at all. And just like that, Sylvanas was hers. The
gravitas of her presence reduced to something so much more. Open want and adoration and
gratitude all at once as Jaina moved over her and lowered herself between her wife’s legs.

“I've been doing some reading in my spare time,” Jaina murmured - her lips brushing the soft
place just above Sylvanas’s clit as she spoke all while stroking her thighs with her hands when
she found them tense with anticipation.

“What- what kind of reading?” Sylvanas somehow managed to ask despite the warmth of Jaina’s
breath against her clit.

“I think we should get a harness if you don't already have one stashed away somewhere,” Jaina
said simply.

“Did Areiel let you into her library?” Sylvanas asked in a half-hearted attempt at a joke despite
the sudden rush of desire she felt at the very idea of Jaina wanting that. Thinking about that in
her spare time. Fantasizing, perhaps.
Jaina smiled and kissed the hood of her wife’s clit before slipping her thumb through the
wetness gathered between her legs and then pressing it inside her all at once.

“Perhaps. All I know is I'm keenly interested in the concept.”

Sylvanas uttered a curse in Thalassian that had Jaina smiling all the more just before she finally
ran the flat of her tongue slowly over Sylvanas’s clit. Luckily, Jaina didn't need her to respond.
The sudden additional wetness and shudder that wracked her wife’s body was all she needed.
That, and to feel her wife come under the attentive ministrations of her tongue and her lips.

Lireesa could feel Dar’Khan coming from leagues away. He reeked of power. Of excess. Of
waste.

She steeled herself and her temper as she stood to open the door of her parlor in advance of his
arrival. She was still nursing a terrible headache following her lesson with Jaina, and even the
thought of Dar’Khan’s presence renewed the pounding in her temples.

“What is it, Lireesa?” Areiel asked from the sofa where she'd been sitting - reading aloud
missives to Lireesa because even to focus on words was too much for her right then.

Areiel had taken to lingering after Jaina’s lessons. Her worry took precedence over whether or
not Lireesa wanted company.

“Drathir,” she said in a low tone. “You can go, Areiel.”

Areiel looked at Lireesa for a moment or two before grabbing her cane and pushing herself up
from the sofa.

“I'll be in your study,” she said, and Lireesa sighed because there was no time left to argue.
Dar’Khan was already turning the corner to her rooms.

He came into view not a moment after the door to the study closed.

“Majesty,” Dar’Khan greeted with only a modicum of his usual charm. “It's as though you were
expecting me.”

Lireesa took a step back to allow him entry before she shut the door behind them both.

“What is it that you're after, Dar’Khan? So late in the evening in my private chambers?” Lireesa
asked with her hands hanging at her sides and every muscle in her body on high-alert, yet
forcefully relaxed, nonetheless.

“I came to tell you that you've made a mistake you need to correct at once,” Dar’Khan said with
a lift of his brow and a wave of his hand. “Removing me as Jaina’s tutor will be the death of
you. Perhaps the death of the Sunwell, as well, and the rest of us in turn.”

Lireesa regarded him rather calmly for a moment before she took a few steps across the room to
her decanter. She spoke as she poured herself a glass of wine.
“I would offer you one, but I have the strangest feeling you must have already had more than
enough,” she began before taking a sip. “Speaking to me the way that you are.”

“I am speaking to you in truths, my Queen,” Dar’Khan bit back, and Lireesa could have smiled
at how poorly he hid his anger at feeling demeaned if she had the energy. “She needs the kind of
tutoring I provide and the speed at which I can provide it.”

“She has power in spades, Drathir,” Lireesa said Cooley as she held her glass and swirled her
wine around in it. “What she needs to learn is how to utilize it. And you are far too reckless and
wasteful in your ways to train her properly. That much is apparent. If you had any subtlety about
you, you might have noticed something a little different about Areiel when she observed your
second lesson the other day.”

Dar’Khan’s eyes widened as realization hit him like the crashing of a wave.

“You have so little trust in me?” He asked with a narrowing of his eyes and a furrow between his
brows. “That you would use your parlor tricks to spy on me?”

Lireesa set her glass back down.

“You needn't feign surprise, Dar’Khan. I have no trust in you whatsoever. Don't think me
enough of a fool that I would believe you weren't aware of this.”

“You will waste away to nothing, then? Teaching this girl at a snail’s pace because your
capabilities have waned to near-nothing?” He demanded with his hands outstretched and his
proverbial hackles raised.

“I will do as I please,” Lireesa hissed, finally teetering on the edge of her self-control.

“Your kingdom will suffer for it, Lireesa,” he bit back sharply. “Mark my words, it will. You
have no bite left in you. We both know this.”

“Do I not?” Lireesa asked, and Dar’Khan took a single step back when he felt the hairs along his
arms raise within his robes. “Hold your tongue, Drathir. I would happily hold it for you.”

“And now you threaten me? For simply offering-” the magister made a choked sound when his
words were met with a lump in his throat.

Lireesa stood unmoving in front of him as he stared into her eyes. With her first step towards
him, he lifted a hand. A hand that Lireesa only glanced at in passing before she bridged the
distance between them.

“Would you lift a hand to me, Dar’Khan?” She asked in an almost-whisper. “To draw back a
stump? Answer me. With all of your limitless power and all of your posturing, take your voice
back and answer me.”

He found himself powerless to do so, as Lireesa knew he would.

“I do not make threats,” Lireesa finally said after a long stretch of silence. “If I allow you to
speak again, it will be with my mercy in mind that you flicker your forked tongue from between
your lips. Nod to me your understanding.”
Dar’Khan looked like he was swallowing soured milk as he nodded, and all at once he could
breathe normally instead of the small gasps he'd been taking in.

He stood in silence as though he feared she hadn't returned anything at all to him before he
finally attempted to speak.

“Forgive-” he cleared his throat when his own words felt strange to him. “Forgive me, Majesty.
It is only that I am concerned for you and I have been poring over texts in an attempt to slow the
loss of the well and it is impairing my ability to...to reason, I suppose.”

“There it is,” Lireesa said quietly. “That serpent’s tongue.”

Dar’Khan clenched his jaw so hard he found it painful as Lireesa gestured towards the door
behind him.

“Remove yourself from my presence before I have any more second thoughts about returning it
to you.”

Dar’Khan turned quickly and shut the door as politely as possible. He was in such a hurry to
leave he didn't notice the shifting shadows in the hallway. Nor did they trigger his wards.
Valeera was far too clever for that.

Lireesa swayed once on her feet before the door to her study burst open and Areiel moved
towards her - her cane abandoned on the floor halfway there when she realized Lireesa was
falling.

Areiel fell with her. To her knees with Lireesa in her arms. She did her best to support her head
with hands that trembled with impotent rage.

“Lireesa,” she whispered urgently as she shifted on the floor and held Lireesa’s face in her
palms. “Lireesa look at me this instant.”

Lireesa’s eyes snapped open and she looked around as though she was lost before she pulled
away from Areiel quickly and forced herself to her feet.

Areiel uttered a curse and followed as quickly as she could manage, though it was a struggle
without her cane. It wasn't long before they were both on the sofa - Lireesa with her eyes set on
the ceiling above them and Areiel with her eyes glued to Lireesa.

“Let me kill him,” Areiel finally said softly. “Let me end this.”

“He would turn you to dust before you got close enough, Areiel,” Lireesa said - her voice quiet
and weak.

“Let him try.”

“No,” Lireesa said quickly before she finally looked at Areiel. “You should go be with Sylann,
you know. It isn't doing you any good watching me waste away.”

Areiel looked down at her own hands in her lap to find them still trembling and she swallowed
thickly a few times before she finally stood and limped over to where she'd dropped her cane.
“If he hurts you, Lireesa-”

“He will not,” Lireesa cut her off quickly. “I would ruin myself in destroying him before I would
give him the satisfaction.”

Areiel winced and turned her head away, and Lireesa watched as pain etched itself across
Areiel’s features.

“What would she say, Lireesa?” Areiel finally asked, and her voice trembled in a way Lireesa
hadn't heard since she'd lost her leg. “What would she say to hear you speak like this?”

“Who, Areiel?” Lireesa asked. The question sounded like a challenge. The question was full of
something ready to spill forth that Areiel knew Lireesa didn't have the strength to expend or to
recognize.

“Goodnight,” Areiel said instead of answering her. “Goodnight, Lireesa.”

Lireesa allowed herself to relax into the sofa then as Areiel turned towards the door and made
her way out into the hall. Exhaustion took her as quickly and as briefly as always.

“You should take care, my beloved.” The voice was as gentle from behind her as the fingertips
against her temples. As soft as the warmth that was now coursing through her mind to drive the
pain of overexertion from her. “Lest you risk more than either of us are willing to lose.”

“I am just fine,” Lireesa reassured with a soft smile as she settled further back into the strong,
slender body that was supporting her. “What is the use in having such a gift if I do not test its
limits now and again?”

“You drive me mad, my Wild One,” came another murmur. “Did you know?”

“You tell me regularly,” Lireesa whispered, and her headache threatened to return anew when
their peace was suddenly shattered by the crying of an infant.

“Alleria,” Lireesa gasped her daughter’s name as her eyes opened so fast and so hard her entire
world spun on its axis.

She couldn't get to the royal guards in the hallway quickly enough for her own liking, and they
both looked rather shocked at her sudden appearance.

“Majesty,” the nearest one greeted with a mixture of alarm and an attempt at reverence. The
result would've been comical any other time.

“Send word to Sylvanas at once that I request her immediate presence in my rooms along with
every border report she's received this past month.”

“Yes, Majesty,” the one who had spoken before said. “At once.”
 Gambit

Sylvanas looked up from the reports she'd been studying since her rather jarring meeting with
her mother two days prior to find a page looking at her rather pensively. Even in her office,
people weren't overly fond of interrupting her. Especially if she was working.

“Speak,” She said with a faintly encouraging smile. “Please.”

“I...I'm afraid I need to report a rather strange occurrence to you involving one of your Rangers.
Or, to be precise, one of Lady Alleria's.” He was young, the page. Nervous. He had reason to be,
of course. He likely wasn't even old enough to have lived in a time where bad news was terribly
common. She placed her hands on her desk and clasped them together and focused her full
attention on him.

“What was this occurrence, and who was involved?”

“Verana,” he said quickly. “Captain Verana was found by a city guard wandering just outside the
walls. She doesn't seem to remember much of the past few days. She keeps asking for Alleria.
Alleria is on the border, and I was sent to fetch you because Lady Areiel seems to think you
might be of some help.”

Immediately, any misgivings Sylvanas might have had about this being an over-reaction
dissipated. Her mother had been right, then, to be concerned about Alleria and her outriders. Her
dream had, perhaps, not been just a dream after all. Sylvanas knew what Verana was even if the
boy didn't. A runner. One that Alleria wouldn't risk for anything that wasn't of utmost
importance. A runner and so much more than that.

“Take me to her immediately,” Sylvanas said without any hesitation as she stood from her desk
and grabbed her jacket from the back of her hair so she could throw it on over her shoulders.
Keeping up appearances in times of strain was one of the most important things about
leadership. She'd learned that from her mother. If she simply stayed calm and collected and
looked the part, it could only help the situation at hand.

The heels of Sylvanas’s boots hit against the marble floors of the corridors in hard counterpoint
to the bottoms of the page’s leather shoes, and Sylvanas stared evenly in front of them as she
walked at the page’s side until, finally, she found herself in Areiel’s seldom-used palace suite.
She found Verana sitting on the edge of an armchair with a priestess at her side and a dazed and
pained look on her face, and Sylvanas found that she very much wished her older sister was here
for a multitude of reasons.

Yet, there was a measure of recognition in Verana’s eyes once they landed upon Sylvanas.

“Captain,” Sylvanas greeted immediately as she moved close enough that once she knelt, Verana
could comfortably look down into her eyes. Quite the display for a Royal, those few in the room
noted. To lower herself to her knees in front of a Ranger. “Do you have the strength to speak
with me?”

“I have strength in spades,” Verana answered hoarsely. “Information? Much less of that, I'm
afraid.”

“She's lying,” Areiel said dryly from across the room where she was brewing a pot of tea.
“About the strength bit. I'm fairly certain she hasn't eaten or had a single drink in at least two
days.”

“I've gone longer,” Verana countered without even looking over her shoulder at the very woman
who had trained her so many countless years ago.

“When you were more used to such things, perhaps,” Areiel said, and Verana sighed heavily in
frustration.

“Where is Alleria?” She asked in a whisper as she dropped her head, and Sylvanas’s brow
furrowed in concern. It was as though one moment, Verana was there and sharp as ever - going
toe to toe with Areiel. The next, she was gone. Her thoughts vague and with only Alleria as their
anchor.

“See?” Areiel asked as she turned to look at Sylvanas while Sylvanas slowly rose to her feet.
“Something’s gotten into her head. Something bad. Poisoned her mind. Alleria must have sent
her, yet she carries no message. Not even in code.”

“Which means the message was always meant to be verbal,” Sylvanas said, reaching out to give
Verana’s shoulder a squeeze. She didn't even look at the page when she gave him his next order.
He didn't need her to.

“Fetch the spymaster as quickly as you can.”

He bowed and nearly ran from the room, so glad was he to remove himself from the middle of a
situation that he found rather terrifying.

“I'm sorry, Sylvanas,” the priestess finally spoke as she sagged into a nearby chair and lifted a
hand to her head. “I simply can't get through to her. There is nothing to be healed, and nothing
for me to fix.”

“You've done all you can,” Sylvanas reassured. “Let us take it from here. I'm sure you've other
patients to attend to.”

The priestess recognized the dismissal and was almost as glad for it as the page had been, albeit
for different reasons. She left all the same in the end, and Sylvanas just looked from Verana to
Areiel slowly.

“You keep saying my sister's name,” Sylvanas said without looking back at her. “Were you
expecting her here?”

“I...I don't know,” Verana said as she lowered her head into her hands in frustration. “I don't
know.”

Areiel’s mind was running frantically to catch up to Sylvanas, and once she managed it, she felt
a chill rise up along her spine.

“Verana,” Areiel said calmly as she grabbed her cane and the mug of honeyed tea she just
finished preparing. She didn't continue until she was handing it to the ranger carefully. “When
was Alleria supposed to arrive?”

Verana looked from the tea to Areiel in confusion. “Alleria was supposed to be here? You know
how she despises the city.”

“Yes,” Areiel said with a little smile as she moved to sit in a nearby chair. Her hip had begun to
ail her that morning. She'd just been on her way for a soak in the springs when she'd received
word from the guards of the situation at hand. “And so, I am wondering why it is that you think
she is near enough that your asking after her might make her appear.”

Sylvanas was relieved Areiel had picked up on her train of thought. It gave her a moment or two
to truly think. To analyze what all this could mean.

“That would make sense, yes,” Verana said. “We were on a circuit. That means none of us were
due to report back for at least a month if not more.”

“And yet here you are,” Areiel said. “And you smell of horse and sweat. Your heavy pack is
gone. You ran light and rode hard to get here, or somewhere near. Yet, we've found no horse.”

Verana let out a breath that shuddered its way past her lips and held onto her mug tightly. It was
so warm. It was so…

“Cold,” Verana gasped as her eyes widened and she looked up at Sylvanas. “It was so cold.”

Sylvanas faltered, because that was the last thing she could possibly have expected to come out
of Verana’s mouth.
“Were you patrolling past the borders? I've studied your routes for this circuit a hundred times
and not a single one of them should've gone past the shields,” It wasn't that Sylvanas didn't
believe her. It was that she couldn't. It was that the implications were such that she wasn't even
able to consider them all.

“No,” Verana said, rather adamantly. “No, we were well within the boundary. And it was cold.
We were wearing furs, and they still weren't enough. I remember my breath turning to frost as I
ran from our camp...Alleria sent me. Alleria sent me away.”

If the rest of Verana’s tale had been on the tip of her tongue, it remained there. Buried in the
frustration that was suddenly present on her face.

“You should drink your tea,” Sylvanas urged gently while Areiel watched the exchange from her
chair. “Valeera will be here soon. If it's poison clouding your memory, she'll know the remedy
I'm sure of it.”

Areiel glanced up from her chair as the door opened and Valeera entered the room like a very
sleepy hurricane - still fastening her sword belt around her waist because it held her most
important pouches. Her hair wasn't put together, either. It was a sight none of them had been
expecting, but then again, none of them knew she'd been outside Dar’Khan’s rooms all night and
had only just gotten to sleep an hour ago.

Neither Areiel nor Sylvanas chose to comment on any of this. Instead, they watched as she
approached Verana and looked into her eyes.

“Look at me,” Valeera said simply, and reached down to lift Verana’s chin as though Verana
wasn't a few millennia older than her.

Valeera reached into one of her pouches, and the next thing they all knew, a little flash went off
that seemed to originate from Valeera’s fingertips.

Valeera watched carefully the way Verana’s pupils responded, and then tilted her chin up further.

Sylvanas watched on, trying to hide her concern that something wildly inappropriate was going
to happen when it looked as though Valeera was about to kiss the captain.

“Breathe,” Valeera said - her lips so close to Verana’s that Verana felt those words more than she
heard them.

Verana let out a single puff of breath, and Valeera’s eyes shut as she stayed utterly still for a
moment or two before she shifted her thumb to Verana’s lips.

“Please don't make me ask,” Valeera said. “I don't have any qualms asking to be spat upon but
now is not the time.”

Instead of offering up any resistance, Verana simply pressed her own tongue past her lips against
Valeera’s thumb, who quickly lifted it to her own mouth and sucked on it thoughtfully for a
moment before she dropped her hand entirely.

All the while, Sylvanas looked on in alarm.

“And what if it is poison, Valeera?” She asked incredulously. “And you've now ingested it?”

“It is poison,” Valeera said simply as she wiped her hand. “And the likelihood I haven't ingested
it multiple times is slim to none.”

“You...what?” Sylvanas’s brow couldn't have furrowed more deeply than it did in that moment.

Valeera rolled her eyes and sighed heavily.

“Any spymaster worth their salt and with any sense of self-preservation builds immunities.
Unfortunately, the effects of this particular brew are irreversible. What's been lost is simply
lost.”

Sylvanas’s face fell, and Verana sagged visibly.

“Is it common?” Areiel asked. “This poison?”

“Not at all. In fact, it's rather old. They don't put it in any of the books. Its origins aren't even
Elven.”

“Then what are they?” Sylvanas asked in growing alarm.

Valeera looked at Sylvanas for a beat or two as she fiddled with one of her pouches. “Amani.”

A silence fell over the room at the mere mention, and Valeera looked around with one of her
brows raised.

“Is anyone going to say something?”

Areiel cut her eyes in Valeera’s direction, and Valeera held up her hands and made a face that
Areiel almost growled in response to, but she managed to maintain her composure.

“Impossible child,” Areiel settled on as she looked away towards Verana. “So, what else can you
tell us about this poison?”

“The captain here will be just fine. She's just lost a couple days of time, I'd guess. As far as the
brew, I can't tell you much more. It's not common, but it's not that uncommon, either. I have a
vial in my rooms, for instance.”

“For what?” Sylvanas asked almost immediately.

“Have you ever woken up after a bad one-night-stand and-”

“Valeera, go get some rest,” Areiel cut her off dryly. “Please.”

Valeera wasn't exactly displeased with the dismissal. In fact, if she was being honest with
herself, she considered it a small victory. She already had more than enough on her plate.

“So,” Areiel began once the door shut. “I'm guessing our next destination will be the queen’s
chambers?”
Sylvanas sighed and ran both her hands over her hair as she nodded, all while Verana looked
nonplussed by absolutely everything that had happened thus far.

“What do you mean she's not here?” Sylvanas asked incredulously while the guard looked at her
and her companions haplessly.

“My Lady, I'm afraid she departed her rooms early this morning. You might check the Well
Chamber. She...she tends to be there more often than not since your last visit.”

Sylvanas pushed the sudden worry this information flooded her with back down into her belly so
it wouldn't add to the lump of anxiety already present in her throat and thanked the guard before
leading them all on to the aforementioned chamber.

Areiel’s limp was visible even with the cane, she noted as she glanced at the older woman.
Sylvanas wondered if this was an altogether new development, or if she'd just begun paying
more attention now.

She was still pondering that thought along with far too many others when they finally descended
the spiraling walkway into the chamber to find the Sunwell even dimmer than when last she'd
set foot here.

Areiel, herself, faltered for a moment upon seeing it and upon seeing Lireesa sitting along the
curved edge of it holding something in her hand.

She gripped her cane a little harder against the pang that lanced at her heart in response to the
sight. Lireesa looked lost in the swirling arcane despite the fact that she was holding something
in a way that made it seem she had a real reason for being here.

She didn't even look up at them until they were close enough that any of the three of them might
have reached out to touch her. They wouldn't. Instead, Sylvanas spoke for them all. Clearly and
concisely.

“Mother, Verana was found wandering lost outside the city walls this morning. As you are
aware, she is Alleria’s runner. She has no memory of what she is doing back at the city or what
has happened over the past two days. That's the estimated timeframe Valeera managed to give us
once she identified the poison Verana was dosed with. An Amani brew, she said.”

“I know the one,” Lireesa said quietly as she ran her thumb over the smooth stone in her hand.
“A potion made for those without the will to meddle in minds directly. A potion for powerless
cowards.”

Sylvanas cleared her throat at the dark tinge to her mother’s tone and her expression.

“Yes, well, we have no way of knowing why she was sent out or what's happened, and we
certainly have no way of knowing who dosed her between the border and the city.”

Lireesa made a soft noise in the back of her throat, and glanced down at her stone. For the first
time, then, Sylvanas recognized it as one used for a scrying and her worry doubled over tenfold.
“I see nothing,” Lireesa breathed before placing the stone on the floor beside herself. “I have
been looking for your sister since last we spoke. I've scried a quarter of their route in its entirety.
They are too clean. They leave no trails. No smoldering campfire ashes. Dar’Khan has only had
similar luck.”

Lireesa stood very slowly, as though she hadn't moved in ages, but she stood solidly, nonetheless
while they watched her.

“Verana, is it?” She asked simply.

“Yes, My Lady.”

“My daughter is fond of you,” Lireesa said almost absently. “The two of you are lovers.”

Verana felt as though Lireesa was peering into her soul as she stood there. Flaying her. She was
far too exhausted for this.

She hated the city so much.

“Yes, My Lady. We are.”

“She wouldn't have sent you were the situation not dire, I'd imagine,” Lireesa continued after a
pause. “I would see you in my rooms once you've rested. This evening, preferably.”

Her attention shifted quickly to Sylvanas, then.

“With Jaina.”

“Jaina?” Sylvanas asked, quite clearly confused.

“And only Jaina.”

The tone was not to be argued with, and Sylvanas was as anxious as any of them to find out
what was going on. “Of course, Mother.”

“In the meantime, Areiel, take her with you to your rooms. The kitchen is rather partial to you
and should have no trouble sending plenty of extra food for her. Enough that she might sleep
solidly. We will likely have a long night in my chambers.”

Sylvanas felt a gnawing hunger in her chest to ask what, exactly, that meant. Especially when it
clearly involved her wife. She glanced at Verana, who only accepted what had been said, and the
resolution on her face left Sylvanas with little choice but to bow even as Areiel and Verana did
when Lireesa moved to take her leave.

If Verana could accept all this so readily, Sylvanas felt she had no place questioning it. She
couldn't imagine what she would do if Jaina were out there and she was in Verana’s shoes
having run from her beloved for some reason unknown to deliver a message forgotten.

They split ways once they were on the main level of the palace, and Sylvanas watched after
Areiel as she rested her free hand on Verana’s back while they walked - no doubt to reassure her.
All of this left Sylvanas feeling rather...well. Forlorn, as she walked back to her own suite where
she'd left Jaina when she received the news about Verana.

At least there, she might find comfort.

Sylvanas watched from the sofa as Jaina prepared her things in advance of their dinner arriving.
She watched her pack away tomes she herself had read as a child. Times that were no longer of
any use to her filled with runes and spells that no longer responded to her call.

She watched all of this and found no comfort. No sense of purpose. Quite the opposite, really.

Her attention shifted around the room then to one of the mage lights and she examined it
carefully - dimming and then brightening it again before she stood quickly and removed her
jacket. It was draped over her arm when she walked past Jaina rather hurriedly and wordlessly,
and Jaina’s attention was immediately drawn to her wife.

“Sylvanas?” She called after her with her hands still working on buckling the leather satchel she
meant to take with her to Lireesa’s chambers that evening.

“I'm going to bathe before dinner,” Sylvanas said before she turned the corner and disappeared
into their bedroom.

It was the first time since their trip to the spires that Sylvanas hadn't invited her to join, and Jaina
finally realized Sylvanas had seemed rather off since the moment she'd gotten back. Off in a way
that was difficult to identify unless one paid attention, and Jaina cursed herself silently for not
paying the least bit of attention as she abandoned her task and made her way to the bedroom.

She found the bathroom door shut, and the only sound she was greeted with was the sound of
running water, so she moved to stand almost against the door.

“Sylvanas? Is everything alright?” She called through the thick, heavily ornamented wood with
her hand already on the handle.

Sylvanas, who had promised to do her best to never tell Jaina a lie, said nothing from where she
sat naked in the half-full basin of water staring at the steam that rose around her. She wondered
absently if she could somehow blame the steam for the tears that were pooling in her eyes as she
heard the handle begin to move.

“I'm going to come in if that's alright with you.”

Sylvanas didn't answer again, and the door cracked just enough that Jaina could peek around the
edge of it at her wife.

“My darling…” Jaina breathed as any thought other than Sylvanas fled from her mind upon
seeing a single tear slip down her cheek. That single tear made her chest feel as though it was
caving in, and it urged her forward into the bathroom until she was on the floor next to the tub
reaching out to smooth her wife’s hair from her face. “Are you upset about Alleria? Please don't
try to hide from me.”
“Jaina, please,” Sylvanas murmured as she reached for Jaina’s hands and pulled them gently
from her face. “Please just let me be vain and self-centered in peace. You don't deserve to deal
with this.”

“I have no intention of letting you deal with whatever this is by yourself if that's what you mean
by that. I have every intention of sitting here on the cold floor until you invite me into the bath
or tell me what has upset you so.”

Sylvanas shifted through the water after mulling those options over, making room for Jaina even
though there was already more than enough room.

“You can get in,” she said softly, and Jaina undressed as quickly as she could manage before she
stepped over the tall edge of the bath and slipped into the water in front of Sylvanas, crossing
her legs beneath its surface to match her wife so that their knees touched as she tried to catch her
gaze.

When Sylvanas finally looked at her, Jaina slid both her hands to rest atop her wife’s thighs
under the warm surface of the water and stroked gently along them with her thumbs. “Tell me.
Please. No matter what it is.”

Sylvanas swallowed hard against the sickly feeling in her throat and clenched her jaw just as
hard for a moment as she looked down at the way Jaina touched her and thought to herself about
how she didn’t deserve this right now. This softness. This acceptance.

“I’m very happy that my mother is teaching you, Jaina,” She whispered finally, as though that
was somehow an answer. As though that made any sense at all.

“But?” Jaina asked quietly, reaching for one of Sylvanas’s hands to twine their fingers together.

“It should have been me.”

She regretted the words the moment they passed her lips. She hated the way they felt and
sounded. The selfishness of them. So unlike the person she was supposed to be that they
sounded entirely foreign even to her own ears.

Jaina could tell Sylvanas hadn’t liked admitting this just from the way she sagged subtly here
and there. Her usually-strong shoulders, her proud ears. The corners of her lips, even.

“It should have, Sylvanas,” She agreed, much to Sylvanas’s surprise. “You are absolutely right.
It should be you under your mother’s tutelage with more power than you’re sure what to do
with. It should be you, unequivocally. And you have every right to feel bitter. You have no idea
why this was taken from you or if you’ll ever get it back, and if I know anything at all about
you, it’s that the last thing you want to feel is helpless.”

A tear slipped from Sylvanas’s cheek and made a little ripple in the bathwater before she could
help it, and Jaina slowly maneuvered them until she was sitting behind Sylvanas with Sylvanas’s
back against her chest so she could wrap her arms around her.

Sylvanas took the time to compose herself and to get comfortable with her head leaned back
against Jaina’s shoulder before she finally felt able to speak.
“I apologize,” Sylvanas whispered. “I hope you know that I am proud of every step you take and
every improvement that you make.”

“I know that you are,” Jaina reassured easily in a murmur against Sylvanas’s hair. “Your feelings
on the matter aren’t mutually exclusive. But I need you to know and to believe that I would give
it all to you if I could. That if I find a way, I will do just that. I need you to know this beyond a
shadow of a doubt.”

Sylvanas nodded as Jaina drew little handfuls of water up along her chest to cascade back down
it. She found it so strangely soothing.

“I just want so terribly to know that I can keep you safe,” Sylvanas said after a long lull in their
conversation. “And...and I think I haven’t faced what’s happening to my mother. I don’t know
that I can. How can I face what I don’t understand? Is she simply aging? She isn’t supposed to.
None of us are, really. And yet her...Areiel...they are. The old ones. It all feels like sand, Jaina.
Every day I wake up and my legs are buried an inch deeper in it, and every day another weight is
added to my shoulders to drag me deeper, still. And now my sister...who knows what is
happening with my sister.”

Jaina slid her hand across Sylvanas’s chest until she was holding her rather tightly as she pressed
a few kisses to her shoulder and up along the side of her neck. Soothing, affirming ones. There
was no real heat or desire behind them save a desire to provide comfort.

“I will never let you sink, I hope you know,” Jaina whispered. “That is what I am for, is it not?
What we are for each other? An anchor when the water is too rough? A buoy just before you go
under? Whatever the situation calls for, really. That’s what I mean to be for you, always.
Whatever happens in your mother’s rooms tonight won’t change that at all and neither will
anything else.”

Sylvanas let out a slow breath to steady herself as Jaina’s words washed over her with more
warmth and welcome than her bath ever could.

“You are more than either of those things,” Sylvanas said. “My mother...my mother pointed out
my closeness to you allows me certain...it isn’t intentional or conscious, mind you. I think about
it often. I worry I’m taking from you something you aren’t...I don’t know how to say this. I don’t
know why I’m suddenly bringing it up now. My mind is just-”

“My reserves?” Jaina asked quietly, and Sylvanas nodded. She was somehow still caught off-
guard when Jaina knew exactly what she was trying to say despite how good she’d gotten at it.
“I give them to you willingly and freely. I noticed it rather quickly. Especially when we started
sharing a bed. I noticed you no longer stayed awake most nights fretting. It’s hard to sleep on an
empty stomach. I can’t imagine trying to sleep without what you’ve lost. I don’t mind, Sylvanas.
I don’t mind at all. I only wish I knew with certainty that it helped you.”

“It’s a hell of a lot better than the wine,” Sylvanas said with a sharp exhale that sounded like she
was just short of laughing. The sad, tired sort of laugh that she very much needed right now. “It
doesn’t feel like some sort of cheap replacement. When I’m with you, it doesn’t gnaw at my
insides. It’s like that, you know.”
Sylvanas went quiet and sobered again as she trailed her fingertips across Jaina’s forearm and
looked at nothing in particular across the room. “Gnawing. That's the only word for it, really.
For me, it’s something that can be lived with. I didn’t have an incredible amount of power to
begin with, and even if I had, I didn’t have it for very long.”

“Perhaps I’m gaining a deeper understanding of both you and your mother,” Jaina murmured,
running the side of her thumb over Sylvanas’s collarbone where it met her shoulder. “If it is
gnawing for you, it must be unbearable for her.”

“I remind myself of that as often as I can,” Sylvanas said. “I remind myself that she’s become
the way she’s become because of it. That it must be excruciating. And then, in doing so, I
remind myself that I could never hope to be as great as her or to have even a measure of her
strength. To lead a nation the way she is...rotting with emptiness from the inside out. Then I also
remind myself that there are a thousand other reasons, too, that she is the way she is, and it all
becomes a muddle in my mind.”

Sylvanas trailed off in a way that didn’t leave much of an opening for Jaina to continue the
conversation, but Jaina wasn’t entirely sure Sylvanas wanted it to be continued to begin with.
Instead of trying, Jaina simply lifted one of her hands to stroke through her wife’s hair
thoughtfully.

“I’ll be back as soon as I’m able tonight,” Jaina said as she reached over the edge of the tub for a
towel. “With news of your sister, I hope. And whatever else might comfort you.”

She’d murmured those last words against the back of Sylvanas’s ear so heavy-handedly that
Sylvanas couldn’t really do much except laugh. A laugh that faded as the next words came.

“I love you dearly, Sylvanas Windrunner. And I am fiercely proud of you.”

Sylvanas found herself at an unfamiliar loss for words as Jaina’s thighs slid against her own
when she decided it wasn't quite time, yet, to leave the bath.

“Thank you,” Sylvanas finally managed, but only in a whisper.

Jaina pressed a smile of a kiss against her wife’s bare shoulder.

“And do you love me?” She asked, and Sylvanas turned her head just in time for Jaina to kiss
her cheek.

“With more of myself than I knew I had,” Sylvanas said. “And more than that each day.”

Alleria’s entire body ached with the cold. They'd gone down to two tents between the lot of them
just for shared body heat, and even in the little alcove they'd found, the snow kept creeping ever
inward.

Alleria’s limbs burned with every forward step she took, and yet still she was dragging another
load of firewood back on one of their unused stretches of canvas - an axe at her belt and frost
clinging to her hair and her eyebrows despite how tightly she was wrapped and bundled.

Another woman stood watch in the distance - waiting for her leader’s safe return. Praying for it.
She looked relieved upon seeing Alleria’s silhouette against the white shroud of snow at the
edge of the clearing.

“Lyana,” Alleria greeted as she continued on into the center of their camp with her burden. “You
should be by the fire or resting with the others.”

“While you suffer for our comfort?” Lyana asked with a frown. The moment Alleria dropped the
ropes from where they'd been rubbing painfully over her shoulder, Lyana began to stack the
firewood. This wasn't a bad camp, really. Rock face on one side, ensconced by ancient trees on
all others. They couldn't have done much better, especially considering the dangers caves often
contained this far out on the border.

They'd probably be dead if Alleria hadn't scouted for it, the blizzard had hit them so quickly.
Overwhelmed them, entirely.

Lyana would likely remember the way Alleria had called back to them every few steps to be sure
she hadn't lost any of them for the rest of her days. Just as surely as she would remember
treating the frostburn on her leader’s feet and calves, for it had been Alleria who had broken the
snow for them, sharp and thick though it was. She’d broken every inch of ice crust with her thin,
doeskin boots until she'd begun to bleed through them and had to dig for moss to pad them.

No more of that now, though. In what little comfort their alcove and their fire provided them,
Alleria had taught them how to bend young, wet wood and to weave strips of it to fashion shoes
meant for walking atop the type of snow this blizzard had brought in.

Alleria had done much of that. Provided them little tasks to keep them alert. To keep them from
giving in to the cold and the hunger.

The grim reality of it all, though, was that they were starving as surely as they were succumbing
to the cold.

The rats and small beasts that ran through their camp were captured quickly enough, but they
naturally burned so very much energy. All the more in the freezing temperatures.

“Any luck tonight while I was gone, Lyana?” Alleria asked as she helped the younger woman
with the wood even as the other Rangers emerged slowly from their tents upon realizing Alleria
had returned. Hoping for food, likely.

Alleria almost couldn't face them knowing she'd brought none.

“I saw the prints of a stag atop the cliff only an hour or so before your return. I couldn't follow
his tracks too far from camp, but they were there as plain as day.”

Alleria tugged her gloves on more firmly. Gloves stuffed with pulled rabbit fur and dried grass
like much of the rest of her clothing was. Another trick she'd shown the rest of her Rangers.

“Find my bow, then,” Alleria said as she moved towards the fire to give her boots at least some
chance to dry.

Lyana followed her and looked as though she was going to put up a fight until Alleria looked up
at her from where she'd knelt with a desperate plea in her eyes. A need, really. She’d led them
here. She'd failed to see the blizzard coming. Failed to sense it, after so many years of her
kingdom’s protection had left her inept in areas that had suddenly become keenly important.

And she had no idea if Verana had made it out. She had no idea if Verana was suffering. If she
even lived. And it was her fault entirely.

Lyana knew all these things. And so, unwilling to add to any of it, she disappeared into a third
tent they were using only to store gear to fetch their leader’s bow and a quiver while Alleria
looked on in stony silence.

Lireesa’s eyes snapped open and she let out a shuddering breath as she dropped her scrying
stone while Verana and Jaina stared at her wide-eyed.

Jaina, who had followed Lireesa on her journey from the memory she had found of Verana’s
departure from Alleria’s unit, and Verana. Verana, who felt fear of the unknown grip painfully at
her heart.

“Please tell me what is going on,” Verana managed to whisper as her attention darted between
Jaina and the queen. “Please tell me she is safe.”

Lireesa stood from her sofa and rushed across the room towards her desk - scrambling over the
piles of reports she'd had Sylvanas bring to her - frantically scanning each line for something
that might anchor her to her daughter’s location. Anything.

“Lireesa, what can I do?” Jaina asked as she stood, herself, and walked over to the desk.

“Please!” Verana shouted suddenly as she gripped the edge of her chair lest she fall into the
floor. Having one's mind scoured was never exactly a pleasant experience. It had left her feeling
rather ill, and now she was unsure of Alleria’s well-being on top of it all.

Both Jaina and Lireesa looked at her then, and she continued once she had their attention.

“Forgive my insolence, Majesty, but there is nothing that I would not do for her. Nothing. If you
don't tell me what you've seen, I will find someone who can.”

Lireesa was torn between anger and a very unexpected rush of sympathy. It caught her so off-
guard that Jaina answered for her as quickly as she could.

“She is alive, Verana. None of your numbers have been lost. They are snowed into a clearing.
Lireesa, I-” Jaina’s attention turned to the queen, whose hands were trembling against her desk.
She looked utterly exhausted from the spell they'd performed and pained for more reasons than
just that.

“I can't get to her,” Lireesa whispered as her brow furrowed and realization and acceptance
darkened her face and her eyes. “I haven't the strength. It's too far. I don't recognize the place, I-”

“It simply isn't possible, I'm afraid,” Dar’Khan said from where he'd been observing silently
from the opposite side of the room he'd retreated to for rest once his own scrying attempts had
failed. “If I can't scry her location, it isn't feasible that we could somehow reach her.”
“I can,” Jaina said suddenly amidst the clash that was just on the cusp of coming to fruition
between everyone present. All eyes turned to her immediately. Hope from Verana. Surprise from
Lireesa. Irritation from Dar’Khan.

“Don’t be foolish, Jaina,” Dar’Khan almost spat the words, and Verana made a move to lift
herself from her seat as though she had every intention of engaging in physical combat with the
magister.

“Stop,” Jaina said earnestly, “Please, both of you. I can bring her home. And if I can bring her
home, I can bring them all home.”

“Jaina,” Lireesa said, trying to gentle her tone despite her frayed nerves. “The risk-”

“Is worth it, My Lady. I think you and I both know enough about winter storms that she is as
good as lost if I don't at least try. I can't allow this to just...to just happen. She is my wife’s sister.
She is your daughter. Family.”

“A family that you are a part of,” Lireesa reminded her. “We cannot afford to lose you, or to
have you hurt in some irreversible way.”

“And I can't live with myself if I don't at least try.”

Dar’Khan looked so enraged and affronted when Lireesa glanced at him that half the reason she
nodded her understanding to Jaina was to spite him. To call him on whatever bluff he was
making. Whatever lies he was telling. For she was certain, now, that he should have been able to
scry for Alleria. She just wasn't sure what he stood to gain from feigning the inability to do so.

Verana moved towards Jaina slowly, and Jaina turned to face her to watch her approach.

Verana stopped only a step or two away and reached out her gloved hands to take Jaina’s into
her own.

“I would be noble and talk to you about risk, Lady Jaina, but I have never been a noble person,”
Verana said as Jaina listened to her intently. She had the same air about her as all the older elves
had. The type that commanded attention even in somber, quiet situations like these. “I would
give you my life for hers. If you bring her back to me, I will be forever in your debt.”

“None of that is necessary,” Jaina said emphatically as she gave Verana’s hands a squeeze for
lack of anything better to do. “But I promise you I'll do everything I can.”

Verana sighed deeply and lowered herself into a half-bow that had her pressing her forehead to
Jaina’s hands, and Jaina stared as Dar'Khan looked on in disgust. As Lireesa watched him.

“No matter the goodness of your intentions, Jaina, the night is not young enough to begin such
work, now. Rest. Speak with Sylvanas. She deserves to know what is happening with her sister
and with her wife. Whatever it is that you'll do, I can promise you my daughter will survive until
another morning or two at the very least. I could promise more if she were better equipped,
but...well. She should've had no reason to be. Verana, you can stay in my guest chamber. I would
rather you not be out and about while we remain unsure of the origins of that potion.”
“I would rather the same,” Verana said with a sigh as she went to gather her satchel from the
chair she'd been sitting in.

“And Dar’Khan...we won't be needing you in the morning, I shouldn't think.” Lireesa stared
hard at him. Looked for anything she could find in the daggers that had become of his eyes, yet
she found little.

“As you wish, Majesty,” He said with a sickly smile and a bow before making his way out the
door with Lireesa’s eyes on him all the while.

“Go, then,” Lireesa said to both Jaina and Verana when the door shut. “To Sylvanas with you,
Jaina. To the guest chambers with you, Verana. And take a guard with you, each.”

Jaina had seen enough tears on her wife’s face just today to break her heart a hundred times over,
even though they were so very few. Far fewer than she'd have shed, herself, in Sylvanas’s
situation.

“Did you see her?” Sylvanas asked breathlessly into the crook of Jaina’s neck as she clung to her
where they stood in the middle of their sitting room. “Really see her?”

“We both did. Lireesa and I,” Jaina murmured in return as she pressed one of her hands against
the back of her wife’s head to keep her close while the other rested against the small of her back.
“She's not well, Sylvanas. None of them are. But we have time. We have a little time.”

“I can't lose you both, Jaina,” Sylvanas breathed as she dug her fingertips into Jaina’s back. “I
couldn't wake to face another day.”

“You will lose neither,” Jaina whispered with more conviction, even, than she'd felt earlier in
Lireesa’s rooms. “I can do this. I know I can.”

“I would be there with you,” Sylvanas said quickly as she finally pulled back and reached to
cradle Jaina’s face in her hands. “Let me be there with you.”

“I...I think I need you there,” Jaina admitted with a weak half-smile as she reached for
Sylvanas’s wrists to hold them. “Like I need you tonight, and always.”

Sylvanas let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding and sagged a bit in Jaina’s
arms. “I like the way you need me.”

Jaina smiled faintly and brushed her lips to the corner of Sylvanas’s mouth as she finally began
guiding them towards their bedroom. “Explain, Love.”

“I think you understand it already,” Sylvanas said as she pulled back enough that they could
walk without tripping over each other. “To be needed not for one’s power or title or lineage.
Things entirely out of one’s own control. I think there isn't anything quite like that feeling.”

Jaina did understand. Very, very well. She looked over at her wife once they were finally in the
bedroom, and turned to present the laces of her dress to be untied as she pulled her hair to the
side to expose her neck. “Those are all reasons you'd rather not need someone for.” She pointed
out quietly. “Tell me how you need me, instead.”
She couldn't fix this. Not right now. Not tonight. But perhaps she could offer them both a little
much-needed distraction.

Sylvanas was already unlacing Jaina’s dress as she leaned in to kiss the skin Jaina had exposed
for her. “I need the way Thalassian sounds when you speak it to me. You've made me fall in love
with my own language. I need the way you look at me when you wake to find me already
looking at you some mornings. I need the way your eyes light up when I'm home before you
expected me. More than any of that, I need your love. I need the way it makes me feel real.”

Jaina had expected flirtation. What she'd gotten made her eyes burn as she turned while
Sylvanas was only half-finished with her task and threw her arms around the back of her neck.
Sylvanas lifted her from her feet despite her smaller size and Jaina pressed a smile as well as a
few tears into the crook of her wife’s neck.

“I need you similarly, to be clear,” Jaina sighed as she ran one of her hands beneath her wife’s
silk shirt where it had come untucked from her high-waisted breeches. “I suspect I always will.”
 The Garden

Valeera let out a slow, steady breath as she pressed herself hard against the wall. Dar’Khan’s
words still echoed in her ears no matter how faint they’d been.

“It’s only that the queen retains a measure of strength I wasn’t aware of. No. No, I don’t think-
No. It won’t be a problem at all. I was merely- Yes. Yes, of course.”

It had only been the tail-end of a conversation. A conversation Dar’Khan was having with
someone who was definitely not in his rooms, because Valeera had been hovering around his
rooms all evening after she’d gotten word he’d left a meeting with the queen in a huff.

There was something rather different about moments like these for Valeera. There was
something different about just hearing information, and hearing information that you could very
easily die for. It was heavier. It made her heart beat a little harder. It made her feel so very alive,
even as a chill ran up her spine.

The conversation was over, however, and Valeera knew well that she needed to make herself as
scarce as possible as quickly as possible. She knew at least something, now. She knew whoever
Dar’Khan was talking to, the discussions happened late at night when he was alone in his rooms.
And she knew they discussed the queen.
Her heart was still beating hard as she reached a certain point one corridor over and slid her
hand along an old activator rune that caused the image of the wall panel there to dissipate. It was
a clever thing, really. A glamour mixed with a physical shield set on a trip that only the royal
family, as well as its keepers, knew how to use - knew the locations of. This particular door led
to another corridor quite far from Dar’Khan’s and considerably closer to Lireesa’s, where she
delivered her information in the form of a coded message slid under her door once she was
confident Lireesa was alone inside.

Some things you simply didn’t speak aloud. Things such as possible treachery, especially. She
was also not keen on waking Lireesa to deliver this news, though she realized she needn’t have
worried when she heard the tell-tale click of the heels of Lireesa’s shoes against her marble floor
as soon as the sound of her note sliding across it stopped.

Valeera left, anyway. Nobody had seen her come, and nobody needed to see her go. That was
something she could only guarantee now, not an hour from now if she lingered too long in
Lireesa’s rooms.

Besides, she needed better company than Lireesa could provide. She needed a physical outlet for
the rush of endorphins that was still thrumming through her veins.

She needed Liadrin.

And so, silently, she stalked more of those familiar hallways until she wound up in front of
Liadrin’s door - her fingertips tingling and eyes sharp and focused as she rapped quietly at the
heavy wood.

Liadrin answered despite the late hour, and Valeera reached through the door to grasp the front
of her shirt as their eyes met.

“Are you free tonight?” Valeera asked, and Liadrin opened the door a little wider.

“For you, yes.”

Lireesa looked over the note long enough to commit it to memory and, as soon as she had, it
dissipated into fire and ash in her hand. Ash that she discarded to the floor rather carelessly
before she made her way towards the guest quarters of her chambers and towards Verana, but
not before grabbing a bottle of wine as she left.

Lireesa knew she wouldn't sleep that night. Not after this message from Valeera on top of what
was happening with Alleria. She also knew Verana was just as likely to sleep as she was and for
at least one of the same reasons.

She didn't know why she felt so drawn to these rooms, suddenly, in lieu of her usual solitude.
Perhaps she was drawn to the pain and anxiety Verana radiated. Perhaps it was something else
entirely. No matter. She was standing in the doorway looking in at Verana, now. And Verana was
looking back at her.

“My Queen,” Verana greeted quietly. She was sitting on the edge of an armchair near the
fireplace where she'd lit herself a small fire out of habit and in an effort to self-soothe, as much
as Lireesa could gather.
“Lireesa.” She corrected quietly, because they were alone. Because this woman loved her
daughter fiercely and might as well have been family. And because Verana was no young thing.
She'd known her since before. Before the titles and the glittering city and eternal spring.

“What can I do for you?” Verana asked after clearing her throat. She wasn't the least nervous to
be in Lireesa’s presence. She was one of the few who was far too jaded for that. Who had seen
and who knew far too much.

“I knew you would be up. I thought you might like a glass of wine. A bottle, perhaps. Shared, if
you wish.”

Verana glanced from the bottle to Lireesa and back again, and nodded faintly.

Lireesa took the chair beside Verana’s and Verana handed her a nearby set of empty glasses
which Lireesa filled in turn. It was strange to be doing something like this for someone. Strange
in a way Lireesa might have found quite nice any other time.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, aside from your curiosity regarding my sleeping habits?” Verana
asked, and Lireesa found her lack of trust more impressive than insulting.

Lireesa sighed and shook her head as she looked down at the glass of wine in her hand, knowing
all too well how much she needed it. She hesitated in drinking, nonetheless.

“I don't often sleep. I thought I might check in with you,” Lireesa said, because that sounded
right. All this seemed right, really. Like something one should do.

And perhaps Verana decided to take a bit of pity on her, because she didn't pry anymore. She
sipped at her wine and turned her attention back to the fireplace.

“I don't know what I'll do if she dies out there,” Verana said quietly after a while.

“She won't,” Lireesa said simply without the slightest hint of hesitation.

Verana looked over at her almost measuringly, and Lireesa had no trouble meeting that gaze.

“Do you remember what the winter was like?” Verana asked. “Do you remember the biting cold
and the hunger?”

“I do,” Lireesa reassured her quietly. “And I assure you the last thing I want right now is for my
own child to be experiencing it. Again.”

“Would you tell us if you knew more than we do?” Verana asked. “Or would you allow
something like this to happen again?”

“You know as much as I regarding the failings of our various systems. The reason you are on the
border, to begin with, is yet another attempt in an endless string of efforts to figure out what,
exactly, is going on. Had I thought it this dangerous, well…”

“You'd have changed nothing,” Verana finished, and Lireesa didn't bother arguing. “Alleria is
best suited for this. She has an eye for magic, being your eldest. Being as old as she is. And she's
untainted by this city. Even if you knew what might happen, you would have sent her. Sylvanas
signs the orders, but who guides her hand? Don't get me wrong, Lireesa. I'm not being
accusatory. You have a kingdom of people to think of who all enduring varying degrees of
suffering. I understand that. But I would also flay myself alive for Alleria. I hope you understand
that, as well.”

“I do,” Lireesa said quietly as she dragged a fingertip around the rim of her wine glass. “If I
didn't believe Jaina would be able to bring her home, I wouldn't allow her to try. I would do it
myself.”

“Such a display would kill you, from all I've gathered,” Verana countered without missing a
beat.

“I have lived long into my usefulness,” Lireesa said with a sigh, though she didn't sound
particularly sad. “Perhaps long enough that outlived might be a better word. It is only important
that you know that one way or another, Alleria is coming home. The future of this kingdom lies
with my children. Not with me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Verana asked after a rather long silence stretched between them.

Lireesa laughed quietly and shook her head as she looked across the room away from Verana.
“Because you won't tell anyone. Because of your devotion to my daughter. Perhaps just because
I need to say it to someone who won't try to convince me it isn't true.”

Verana mulled Lireesa’s answer over for a while before she polished off her glass of wine and
poured another.

“I suppose that makes sense,” She finally settled on saying as she eyed Lireesa’s glass for a
moment before refilling it for her. “When you surround yourself with awestruck admirers it must
be difficult to be truthful, even with yourself.”

“Most of them don't admire me, Verana,” Lireesa said matter-of-factly. “They cling to influence.
To power that's no longer even there.”

“I truly hope you aren't referring to Areiel,” Verana said, and for the first time, she'd gentled the
edge in her voice. Even as unthreatened as she felt in Lireesa's presence, she still had a healthy
respect for her.

Lireesa clenched her jaw faintly and her fingertip stopped moving against the rim of her glass as
she looked down at the dark wine Verana had just refilled for her.

“Of course I'm not,” Lireesa said, finally looking back up at Verana, who only looked away after
a rather long, pregnant pause.

“We miss her in the field,” Verana said finally once the silence grew too loud. “At times I think
she'd have been better off had she not retired, and then I'm reminded her construct is failing. The
cane, in particular, was quite a shock on this visit.”

“I know that she'd have been better off,” Lireesa sighed. “Unfortunately, there isn't anything I
can do about anything at all regarding Areiel. I do hope that you understand that. I know the two
of you were quite close once upon a time.”
“We were all close,” Verana said dismissively. “I have no great loyalty to her beyond the loyalty
of one Ranger to another.”

“And yet it is your personal business how I view her attentions?” Lireesa asked out of genuine
curiosity.

“Areiel’s attentions have been the business of any of the old rangers that have ever been close to
her in any capacity. A thing that is as difficult to not see as it is to forget.”

“Is this taking your mind off of Alleria, then? Discussing matters that truly don't concern you?”

“Yes, believe it or not,” Verana said as she leaned forward to add another log to the fire. “And
every time my thoughts drift back to her, I fear I might never feel calm or warm again. It's like
someone is ripping my heart out from in between my ribs, the worry. It grips me utterly, even
now.”

Lireesa was quiet as Verana said her piece. As she reflected upon what it had been like to feel so
deeply. She reminded herself that the ranger was talking about her daughter, and she frowned
softly.

“She will be with you again soon,” Lireesa said as she stood and placed her half-finished glass
down on her way to the door while Verana watched her until she was gone.

Valeera felt the presence before she heard it. In her gut. Along her spine. In every single hair that
rose along her arms.

Something terrible. Something dark.

She was only a corridor away from Liadrin’s rooms, but her pursuer was closer.

Time seemed to slow as she steadied her breathing and turned a corner, using the broken line of
sight to slip her hand into her tunic and grip the pommel of a small, hidden dagger tucked away
into a secret pocket.

“I do hope I'm not disturbing the nightly stroll of shame of the High Knight’s whore.”

Dar’Khan’s voice was unmistakable to Valeera. As unmistakable as the venom that dripped from
it with as much danger as what the edges of her dagger were laced with.

“I am no one’s whore,” Valeera said calmly as she slowly turned to face the direction of the
voice. Dar’Khan’s figure was strangely shadowy, but there was no mistaking his sickly sweet
smile. “Leave me to my business, Drathir.”

“I don't think I will,” Dar’Khan almost hummed as he stepped closer. Valeera glanced at the
mage lights that should have been illuminating the dark hallway to find them utterly inert.
“Considering you refuse to leave me to mine.”

Valeera’s expression remained unchanged even as her blood ran cold and her heart palpitated in
her chest.
Dar’Khan stepped closer, then, and the awful feeling from before compounded tenfold and
threatened to engulf Valeera, entirely.

She realized it was doing exactly that far too late to run. The dark, cold tendrils of strange,
unfamiliar magic were already twining around her legs and cementing them to the floor. They
burned despite how cool they were. They burned like flames licking at her even through the
leather of her breeches.

“Let me go,” Valeera demanded, and finally the panic began to bleed through into her frantic
whisper. “I've no idea what you're referring to, but Lireesa will-”

“She will do nothing. As she always does. She is powerless. Inept. Irrelevant.” Dar’Khan spat
bitterly, and Valeera let out a choked sound as the tendrils pulled her to her knees. Her vision
narrowed into pinpricks as her breathing became quick and shallow.

“That has-” Valeera gasped for breath as a tendril found its way around her throat and her eyes
began to burn. “That has nothing to do with me.”

“It has everything to do with you,” Dar’Khan sounded almost bored as the tendril tightened
when Valeera began to struggle. “But no longer.”

Valeera had forgotten herself so quickly that only when she could no longer breathe did she
remember who she was. What she was.

A flash of smoke filled the narrow corridor. The tendrils wrapped around her gripped at nothing.

There was a flicker of movement in the darkness. The flash of a blade. The smell of poison
meeting blood and the sound of two bodies meeting the floor.

“Where am I?”

The voice was panicked. Pained beyond imagining.

Valeera never missed. Her dagger was lodged in a kidney and her poison was spreading
ruthlessly.

But the body beneath her own was not Dar’Khan’s.

The voice was not Dar’Khan’s.

The panicked blue eyes looking up at her were those of one of Liadrin’s guards, and they were
full of confusion and betrayal. Betrayal, because one never expected the blade of a former lover
to wind up buried in one’s own kidney.

“No,” Valeera gasped with her eyes wide as she reached down to press her hand around the
dagger. She didn't dare pull it out. “No, no, no.”

“Valeera?” The woman gasped breathlessly, and the air in her lungs was already rattling.
“Why?”
“No,” Valeera sobbed as she straddled the woman and reached for her face - holding it still as
she searched her belt pouch for a potion she knew didn't exist. There was no antidote for this
poison. She had made sure of that long ago.

“Breathe,” Valeera urged as she looked around wildly. “Breathe for me.”

Another choked, gurgling breath came from the woman’s mouth and Valeera knew she needed to
get help as well as she knew what it would mean for her. For the murderer. For the filth the
queen allowed to walk her corridors and serve her bidding.

Her entire body was numb as she tore a piece of her own shirt and pressed it against the wound,
and only then did the woman finally cry out. So loudly that Valeera knew this was the end of it
all. And what a terrible, filthy end. What a fitting end.

The sound of bare feet against marble made her ears twitch backward, yet she couldn't bring
herself to look even when she heard a sharp gasp as those steps came to a quick stop.

“Valeera?”

Liadrin.

Not Liadrin.

Not like this.

And all at once, Valeera broke. A sob wracked her shoulders as she shook her head when the
woman beneath her could no longer focus her vision.

“I didn't,” Valeera gasped desperately. “I didn't. Liadrin. Help me.”

Liadrin moved forward quickly and lifted Valeera from her guard, holding her by the arms as she
stared at her so intently Valeera froze in her grip.

“What is this?” Liadrin demanded desperately.

“Dar’Khan,” Valeera’s voice broke on a sob. “I swear to you. I’m not mad, Liadrin. I swear to
you it was him. Lireesa will end me for this. She'll send me beyond the border into the cold. I
don't care. I only care that you believe me.”

“Is she dying?” Liadrin asked quickly, still holding Valeera’s arms because she was almost
certain Valeera would collapse if she stopped. “Can she be saved?”

“I don't know,” Valeera said, and Liadrin stared at her for a moment or two with her brows
furrowed and an entirely unfamiliar look in her eyes.

“Go to your rooms,” Liadrin suddenly said, and there was a darkness in her voice that kept
Valeera’s sobs at bay beneath the shock. “And tell no one of this. Not a soul.”

Liadrin let her go, and Valeera could do little more than stand and stare in shock as Liadrin
moved to kneel beside her guard.
“What are you going to do?” Valeera asked in a whisper as Liadrin reached out and rested a
comforting hand against the guard’s shoulder.

Valeera felt a physical lurch travel from the pit of her stomach to her throat. The sound of a neck
snapping was something one didn't get used to easily. Especially when she wasn't the one doing
the snapping.

Liadrin stood and looked down at the lifeless guard. At the dagger still protruding from its
festering resting place. Wordlessly, she reached down and gripped the guard’s tunic and, with
one hand, slung her body over one shoulder.

“I told you,” Liadrin said quietly as Valeera trembled where she stood. “I'm not better than you.”

Valeera could tell there were tears streaming down her own cheeks despite the fact that she
wasn't even entirely sure she was crying.

“I'm so much worse.”

Valeera shifted her weight from one foot to the other as Liadrin removed her dagger and turned
it in her hand to pass it to Valeera - unbothered by the poison spreading across her fingers along
with the blood it was still boiling.

“Now go to your rooms,” Liadrin hissed. “And I will be with you once I'm done.”

It was the harshness of Liadrin's tone that snapped Valeera back into the equally harsh reality of
the moment, and she turned quickly to dart away as she'd been told.

Liadrin looked after her for a while and then took a long, deep breath before she turned away.

“Guards!”

“Kill them,” Lireesa said the words as though they were the easiest words in the world to say as
Liadrin slowly looked up from their captives to their leader.

Lireesa’s eyes met her own and Liadrin shook her head almost imperceptibly.

“I c-”

“You will,” Lireesa corrected her before she could even finish. She didn’t look down at their
prisoners. “We cannot afford to feed them and they are slowing us down. You will put them out
of their misery before they die of starvation.”

Liadrin’s hand shook around the pommel of her sword. Her bravery was bleeding out of her.
Oozing like infection from her very pores. Lireesa was right and she knew it. She had no
business defending anyone. Defending the very people who had hunted and hounded them to
near-extinction.

“Give me your sword,” Lireesa said quietly a moment later, and Liadrin’s brow furrowed in
response to the exhaustion in her voice.
It was such a heavy burden. Liadrin knew. The fires. The ambushes. The screams of children.

Such a heavy burden for Lireesa to bear alone.

“I’ll do it,” Liadrin whispered, tightening her grip as Lireesa caught her gaze again. “I’ll do
it.”

Liadrin only knocked once at Valeera’s door before she opened it. She’d heard the heaving from
the hallway and knew Valeera was in no state to come let her in.

She often wondered if she still had a heart at all.

She was reminded of the weakness of having one when she walked through Valeera’s rooms to
find her on her bathroom floor clutching a bucket, shaking like the leaves in their kingdom as
they refused to fall.

They never fell.

Liadrin looked around the room carefully. She noted the half-packed bag on Valeera’s bed and
wondered what had stopped her, but she didn’t ask. She just moved toward the sink basin nearby
and dampened a towel before lowering herself onto the floor next to Valeera.

“Come here,” Liadrin’s voice was a whisper. Her hands were deceptively clean as she reached
for the younger woman and began to wipe the sweat and sickness from her face. “Calm your
breathing or you’ll be sick, again.”

Valeera was tense and stiff as Liadrin shifted to pull her against her chest. Liadrin recognized the
look in her eyes as fear, and she turned the cool cloth around to begin wiping it over her sweat-
dampened hair.

“You have to trust me,” Liadrin murmured. “You needn’t worry. It’s been handled.”

Valeera was shivering, now. Every time she tried to release some of the tension in herself, she
went as taut as a bowstring again, and Liadrin finally gathered her slowly and carefully into her
arms to lift her from the floor.

Valeera didn’t fight it. She allowed herself to be carried through her rooms to the sofa where
Liadrin sat her down wordlessly.

“You don’t believe me.”

Valeera’s voice was a whisper. She sounded so far gone that it only served to draw Liadrin
closer.

“It doesn’t matter if I believe you.”

Valeera looked shocked, and Liadrin only reached out to tuck some of her hair behind one of her
ears.

“It has to matter,” Valeera argued once she gathered enough of her wits to speak. “You’re...you-”
“I am a terrible, terrible thing, Valeera,” Liadrin finished for her emphatically as she eventually
moved her hand to cradle Valeera’s face and wipe away some of her tear stains with her thumb.
“For every throat you have cut I have cut a dozen more and for every drink you’ve laced with
poison I’ve dosed a river with death. Moreover, I am selfish. I am so terribly selfish. I refused
you for so long because I refused to see myself...and now, I refused to let you go. Whether that
was Dar’Khan or my own guard matters not to me. All that matters is that I have you, because I
want you. And if you don’t want me any longer-”

Liadrin trailed off when Valeera guided her hand down towards her throat, and for the first time,
Liadrin noticed a rather angry set of red marks around it. Like burns.

“What is this?” Liadrin asked as her eyes flashed back up to Valeera’s.

“He did this. With the shadows. They wrapped around my legs and brought me to my knees and
then they wrapped around my throat. I only moved when I could no longer breathe, or I’d never
have raised a dagger to him. To...to her.”

Liadrin’s eyes darkened and she moved so quickly to get up that Valeera nearly missed when she
reached for her arm to stop her.

“Where are you going?” Valeera asked, sitting up quickly to get more leverage. She couldn’t
stand the thought of it. Of Liadrin leaving.

“Dar’Khan,” Liadrin said simply, and Valeera shook her head as she reached for the back of
Liadrin’s neck with her free hand to pull her close.

“No,” She whispered firmly. “Liadrin, he’ll kill you. And I can’t…” She cleared her throat and
dug her nails into the skin at the nape of Liadrin’s neck. “I won’t be without you, either.”

“I don’t want you to be in your rooms alone anymore,” Liadrin said, and Valeera made a soft
noise in the back of her throat before she laid back against the arm of her sofa.

“We can’t suddenly change our behavior now, Liadrin. You’re smarter than that,” Valeera said
with a sigh, and Liadrin knew she was right. That didn’t make her hate it any less. “And I don’t
need you to save me.”

Liadrin slowly moved to sit on the edge of the sofa in response. She could’ve said it. She
could’ve reminded Valeera of her plea in the corridor that spoke to the contrary. But she didn’t.

And in return, Valeera reached out to her and took one of her hands into her own slowly. It was
better than thanking her. They’d said so much already, the both of them. They’d done so much.

“Do you still feel sick?” Liadrin asked after a while. She’d lost herself in the feeling of Valeera
tracing the lines of her palm with her fingertips.

“Yes,” Valeera admitted. “Violently ill might be a better descriptor.”

“I’ll go get you something from my rooms,” Liadrin offered, though the last thing she wanted to
do then was go to her rooms. Thankfully, Valeera was of a similar mind.
“I have a few packets of powder in the bathroom cupboard. It can wait. You don’t look so good
yourself, by the way. Are you alright?”

Liadrin’s ears shifted and then sank as she realized she hadn’t done as good of a job hiding it as
she’d thought.

“I can’t stand the smell of blood,” She admitted, and Valeera let those words sink in for a while
before she drew Liadrin’s hand to her lips to kiss over her scarred knuckles.

“You might as well stay tonight,” Valeera offered. “Everyone will be occupied with Alleria in
the morning.”

Liadrin nodded because she didn’t want Valeera to know how relieved she was. It wasn’t that
she was worried about her. Not really. Not tonight, anyway.

She was more worried about herself.

More selfishness. Another flaw to add to the pile. A pile she could no longer ignore.

And yet, Valeera had seen it. She’d seen it all. The darkness that always dwelled just beneath her
shining surface.

She’d seen it, and she was still pulling her down onto the sofa and pressing her face into her
chest. And what could Liadrin do but wrap her arms around her? What could she do but accept
this like one might accept a coming storm?
 Old Friends

Jaina let out a trembling breath as she stood outside the door of Lireesa’s practice room. She'd
faltered there and her hand just wouldn't cooperate with her long enough to turn the door handle
it was resting upon.

“We can find another way,” Sylvanas reassured her gently as she reached to run her hand along
her wife’s lower back. “I promise you we can and everything will turn out alright.”

“There is no other way,” Jaina responded as she abandoned the handle of the door and turned to
face Sylvanas. “I'm only nervous I'll fail, Sylvanas. I'm not scared for myself.”

Sylvanas took a breath and lifted both her hands to cradle her wife’s face in her palms as Jaina
stepped a little closer to her, welcoming the comfort.

“Have you ever been scared for yourself?” Sylvanas asked as she looked into Jaina’s eyes with a
soft smile. “Or only everyone else around you?”

“Before I met you,” Jaina said, reaching for the front of her wife’s coat to slide her hands
beneath it for the comfort of familiarity. “I was scared you wouldn't be kind.”

Sylvanas’s expression only softened that much more as she slid her hands from Jaina’s face to
pull her into a hug instead.
“I can't imagine not being kind to you,” Sylvanas whispered as Jaina took a moment to rest her
face against Sylvanas’s shoulder. “I don't want to lose you today, Jaina. I'm selfish in all the
ways that you are not.”

“You won't lose me ever if I can help it,” Jaina reassured quietly, and she felt bolstered,
suddenly, by Sylvanas’s need of her. She had a hundred reasons not to fail by now, so she simply
wouldn't. She couldn't. “And I'm just as selfish. You mean more to me than you have any right
to.”

Sylvanas felt a little easier hearing that. One less thing to feel guilty for was always a gift.
Especially when the weight of what was happening with her sister was already weighing on her
so heavily.

“We should go inside,” Sylvanas finally suggested as she slowly pulled back from Jaina, who
had only been waiting for her wife to feel ready to do the same.

Jaina had no doubt Lireesa had known they were outside. She was already looking towards the
door when they stepped through it and into the very practice room Jaina had been having her
lessons in, Areiel nearby as she nearly always was, now. Verana, too, was there. As though she'd
have been kept away by anything short of the world ending.

“Good morning,” Lireesa greeted with a smile that looked both tired and genuine. To Jaina at
least.

If Sylvanas recognized the strain behind it she didn't say anything.

Jaina greeted her in turn, and Lireesa gestured towards Areiel, who handed her a rather long,
large item swaddled in fine elven cloth.

“I've a gift for you, Jaina,” Lireesa said as she stood and moved towards her while Areiel took
up residence in the chair Lireesa had been sitting in.

Jaina took the bundle from her with a furrow between her brows while Sylvanas watched
curiously, and - inch by inch - she revealed a staff that was utterly breathtaking. From the
flawless blue crystal held in place by rune-etched, silver spindles that twisted like gentle claws
around it without touching it to the blue leather wrapped around its handle.

“It's beautiful,” Jaina said as she touched her fingertips against the floating crystal and watched
the glow of it intensify in response to her. “But...how?”

“We've enough resources for things of this nature. Especially when they pertain to you and the
recovery of my daughter. The spell you’ll be attempting today will take more grounding than
you are used to, and considerably more channeling. This staff is only an aid, but it's a powerful
one. I've seen to that.”

Jaina looked from the staff to Lireesa and nodded her understanding. It felt good in her hand as
she slowly allowed the gold-adorned tip of it to rest against the floor of the practice room. And it
responded to her so easily. She had no doubt in her mind Lireesa had been truthful in saying this
had been crafted specifically for her. Not when she felt bolstered by it before she'd ever even
attempted to use it.
She hadn't even realized Sylvanas slipped away to join Areiel across the room until she looked
for her, but her wife offered her an encouraging smile from where she stood beside the former
captain’s chair, nonetheless. What confidence the staff hadn't yet given her, the smile had. If
only because Jaina knew all too well Sylvanas had very little reason to smile just now aside from
her faith in Jaina. Faith that Jaina would do anything to avoid leaving her wife feeling it had
been misplaced.

“Let's get started then, shall we?” Jaina asked after taking a deep breath.

Lireesa followed her into the center of the room and stood behind her right shoulder as Jaina
squared herself with the exact place she had learned was directly above the Sunwell. The place
both her and Lireesa were at their strongest.

“I will remind you of where,” Lireesa said quietly and evenly - a calm, steady presence when
that was exactly what she needed. “Come with me.”

And Jaina did. She shut her eyes and reached out to Lireesa to find her utterly open in a way she
never had before. Together, they journeyed along the scant memories Lireesa had gleaned from
Verana about the prior days. Again, they moved along the route Alleria’s rangers had taken.

This time, however, when the memories began to blur and to fade, Jaina bit into them fiercely
like a dog with a soup bone. She held them in her very teeth until, by way of brute force, the
memories turned into reality and they were looking into the present instead of the past.

All Jaina could see was white. Everywhere she looked. Every rock and every tree was covered
in an ever-thickening blanket and yet she didn't give up.

“I can't feel her,” Jaina said to Lireesa, and her voice sounded far away to everyone in the room
aside from the queen.

Lireesa gently called forth a memory of Jaina’s own from the day of her wedding to Sylvanas,
for Jaina was just as open to Lireesa now as Lireesa was to her. A memory of Alleria’s wit and
her smile and her presence that always came and went as quickly and brilliantly as a dying star.

The memory was so vivid that Jaina felt an all-too-physical yank that left her reeling for a
moment, it was so painful. And then she realized the pain wasn't her own. The moment her
vision cleared and focused, she realized it was Alleria’s. She realized just how dire their
situation was.

“Alleria, look at me. Please.”

Lyana’s voice was weak and urgent all at once somehow. Urgent enough that Alleria’s eyes
fluttered open and tried to focus on her.

“Where am I?”

“Our tent,” Lyana said, and Alleria tried hard to look around. In the darkness of the snow-
covered canvas, she saw the entirety of their unit huddled together wrapped in what few blankets
they had, Alleria in the middle of all of them. “I found you on the edge of the clearing. You left
an hour ago for firewood.”
“There is no more,” Alleria said, now that she'd been reminded of her task. Another failure
among many. “The snow is too-”

“Don't,” Lyana urged gently as she continued running her hands along Alleria’s ears. They
were such a deep, angry red that she feared Alleria might lose them. If they ever even lived to
leave this tent again. “I know. Just stay awake, that's all I ask. We're lost without you.”

“You are lost because of me,” Alleria’s voice was full of rasp and every inch of her that had
been exposed outside now burned like she'd stuck herself in a bed of coals.

“That isn't true,” Lyana whispered, and she reached into her own shirt to produce a water skin
that she'd placed there to warm it enough that it might help. “Drink.”

Alleria sat up slowly. So slowly. She didn't even have the energy left to shiver as Lyana lifted the
spout to her lips.

“This isn't your fault,” Lyana reassured her quietly. “Believe that much at least.”

Alleria didn't respond. Her eyes had slipped shut again as water dribbled down her chin, and
Lyana began to panic.

“Steady,” Lireesa said, and Jaina felt a hand on her shoulder. “Don't lose her, now. We risk
losing her forever.”

Lireesa spoke as though they both hadn't just witnessed what looked to be the beginning of her
daughter’s last moments. She had no choice.

Jaina gripped her staff more tightly, and Lireesa gripped her shoulder in turn.

“I'm with you, Jaina,” Lireesa said.

The next breath Jaina took burned her nostrils. The wind howled through the trees that
surrounded the clearing. She was knee-deep in snow and the only sign she'd wound up in the
right place was a trail from the forest that looked like a body had been dragged rather clumsily
towards what little could be seen of a tent.

She had no idea how she'd managed this. At least, not until she realized Lireesa was still right
behind her.

The tent flap opened slowly, and a face that was only familiar to Jaina from what she'd been
watching appeared.

Lyana.

This was Lyana.

Lyana, who looked as though she'd seen a ghost. Who looked as though her death warrant had
been signed, because why else would she be seeing the queen herself and the Lady that was with
her in this clearing?

“Are you real?” Lyana asked with tears already freezing on her eyelashes.
“Yes, child,” Lireesa answered, and her voice carried through the cold and the snow like it
always had before. Calm, steady, and sure.

“Help us,” Lyana gasped, overcome with an uncharacteristic amount of emotion. “Alleria
is...is…”

“Alleria will be just fine,” Jaina said suddenly, and with so much confidence the relief nearly
took Lyana’s breath away, she was so ready to be relieved.

Jaina lifted her hand in front of her even as she felt Lireesa channeling with her. With strength
she could nigh afford to expend, and so very much of it. So much of it that Jaina’s spell wrapped
all those in the tent within its warmth as the glow of her eyes pierced the white haze much like
Lireesa’s own for the first time.

Their re-entrance into the practice room was anything but graceful. Jaina was on her knees.
Lireesa was stumbling in an effort not to fall, herself. The magic Jaina had been using had
nowhere to go - so inexperienced was she at wielding such power. Lireesa only just managed to
reign it in for her so it wouldn’t loose itself on all those present.

And every ranger they'd nearly lost was lumped into a pile in the center of the floor.

The next moments were a frantic scramble.

Sylvanas was helping Jaina to her feet because Verana was already tugging Alleria from the pile
of her fellow rangers, sobbing rather openly as Alleria shuddered in her arms and dragged the
warm air of the practice room into her lungs.

Areiel was just as singularly focused. And, as always, it was Lireesa her eyes landed on.

Despite her newly developed slowness thanks to her construct, Areiel caught Lireesa in her arms
before she could fall once she recognized she would never make it to the nearby waiting
cushions on her own.

No one would care. No one was so much as looking at them as a barrage of healers was ushered
in from the hallway to see to the half-frozen squad who were all slowly finding their feet and
looking around themselves in amazement. Looking at Jaina in even more amazement, even as
Sylvanas wrapped her coat around her and thanked her in hushed, frantic whispers.

The next moments were as much of a blur as the previous ones. Alleria would live. She was too
stubborn not to. Jaina had the worst headache of her life, and Sylvanas was tasked with ushering
her to bed once she'd given her sister a quick once-over despite Verana’s refusal to let go of her
hand even when faced with the most stalwart of healers.

And even after all this, it ended in much the same way as it always did.

With Lireesa alone in her rooms, save the presence of an old friend. An old friend who had
brewed her tea and gotten her to rest on the sofa. An old friend who was looking at her even now
from the chair she dragged over lest she be too far away as Lireesa drifted in and out of
wakefulness.
“You'll work yourself to death soon if you aren't careful,” Areiel's tone was gentle despite the
accusatory words, and Lireesa sighed quietly as she looked around the room.

They'd only just finished the royal chambers this morning. Lireesa had insisted this wasn't a
priority. First had come the dwellings. Then the city. Then the palace, with the Sunwell beneath
it before all that.

“Perhaps then I might rest,” Lireesa suggested with a half-hearted laugh and a sigh.

“You might rest, now,” Areiel argued quietly as she poured them both a glass of wine. “That's
always an option, you know.”

Lireesa hummed in the back of her throat as a fire crackled away in the hearth nearby. The wine
was welcome. Mulled and spiced against the winter that should have been plaguing them, but
wasn’t. No, even now in the dead of night the air outside was warm and welcoming as it came in
through Lireesa’s open windows on a gentle breeze.

Never again would they suffer such a thing, Lireesa had decided. And when Lireesa decided
something, her will was done. As was the way with queens.

“I don't think I'm quite ready to rest,” Lireesa finally said as Areiel sat down at the table their
dinner had been growing cold upon while they picked at it throughout the night. Food was
secondary to city planning and infrastructure as of late. Especially for Lireesa, who hadn't
slowed even for a moment since they'd come to settle here. The thought of not working herself
into exhaustion was more terrifying than anything else, really. Lest she have time to realize. Lest
she have time to grieve for all that she'd done to get them here.

“Would you like to go over the sketches Dar’Khan provided for the hot springs, then?” Areiel
asked in an attempt to be helpful. Anything to be helpful. To remain helpful. It had been a long
time since Alleria had been young and needed her care. A long time, now, since she'd fought at
Lireesa’s side to conquer those that sought for so long to conquer them.

Perhaps her desperation had begun to become obvious. She feared that might be the case as
Lireesa’s eyes lingered on her for a little longer than they might have normally.

Areiel cleared her throat. She was the first to look away.

Lireesa turned towards her desk where she assumed the sketches Areiel had been referencing
would be waiting, only to find a rather large...something wrapped carefully in silk.

She approached her desk slowly, a furrow of curiosity between her brows as Areiel watched her
from the corner of her eye.

A book, Lireesa realized as she carefully pushed the silk aside to examine the beautiful leather
binding. They'd only just begun to print them in the past few months, and this was a stunning
specimen indeed.

Lireesa’s lips curled into a little smile as she opened the cover.

Lireesa-
It is not much, I know. It can never compare to what was lost. But I know how fond you are of
these pieces. I hope their familiarity gives you comfort.

Areiel

“I…” Areiel trailed off as her words left her suddenly.

“Poems,” Lireesa said softly as she turned to the next page and ran her fingertips over the very
words their people had passed down since long before they began recording them. “Our songs.”

“I wanted you to have them,” Areiel said, still lingering near the table a few steps away. “To
remind you that there are yet beautiful things left in this world that you didn't have to create.
And that you can still enjoy them just as I or anyone else can.”

Lireesa could feel Areiel’s eyes on her as surely as she could feel the breeze against the skin her
dress left exposed.

“You still look at me the way you once did,” Lireesa said without having to see it. “Across the
campfires in the night before you left for your own camp once Alleria was asleep.”

“I know,” Areiel whispered, because what else could she be but honest?

“Tell me, then, what you see.”

Lireesa recited words she'd said before without knowing, even, why she remembered them. Why
they came so easily. Like notes of a familiar song.

“The way the firelight dances in your eyes,” Areiel repeated her own words verbatim. Words
that were centuries old. Words that still echoed between them, refusing to let loose their hold.
“The way you look when you are looking for something that will not come.”

Lireesa swallowed thickly as Areiel’s breathing met her ears. Shallow and slow like she was
willing it to be.

“You still look like no one and nothing ever has or ever will,” Areiel continued, “And I am still
right here.”

Lireesa realized, suddenly, that her fingertips were trembling against the printed words she'd
been touching.

She spoke, anyway.

“Perhaps you aren't close enough.”

Areiel felt her breath leave her entirely for a moment, yet she bridged the distance between
them, anyway. Lireesa didn't turn to face her even when she came to a stop almost against her
back.

Areiel had touched her so many times. A brush of hands against a water skin or a wine glass. A
carefully applied bandage. A helping hand when a rabbit refused to be skinned, so frozen was its
flesh in the harsh winters of their past.
She had touched her so many times. But not like this. Not like she'd wanted to.

“And now?” Areiel asked as she moved her fingertips down along the laces of Lireesas’s dress.
“Am I close enough now?”

“Yes,” Lireesa whispered, and Areiel finally found the place near the small of Lireesa’s back
where the laces were secured. Once they were loose, she slipped one of the shoulders of the
dress from Lireesa’s body as she turned her around slowly with her free hand resting along her
side.

The dress fell down to Lireesa’s hips and Areiel braced Lireesa against the desk as she lifted a
hand to stroke over the darkness of her hair - tracing the scar that ran through her brow with the
pad of her thumb.

“Still?” Lireesa asked without expanding upon her question. Without needing to. “After all that
I've done?”

Areiel’s gaze fell from the scar to the cold steel that Lireesa’s eyes had become, and she nodded
like she was admitting to a wrong-doing. It was almost defiant.

“Still,” She breathed, and the cut that had been opened with her words began to bleed freely.
“More.”

“Why?” Lireesa asked as Areiel’s fingertips grazed the front of her throat.

“Because I cannot stop.”

“You're a fool, Areiel,” Lireesa said, and Areiel leaned down to press her lips softly against
Lireesa’s temple.

“I know,” She whispered against Lireesa’s skin, and Lireesa finally reached for her, because at
least she knew. At least she knew.

Lireesa’s hands found Areiel’s sides and then her hips, touching over finely tailored clothing
where once there had been only furs and leathers. It had been so long since Lireesa had touched
someone. Since she'd been touched. And before she could think too deeply about just how long
and all the reasons why, Areiel lowered herself to her knees in front of her and looked up at her
as she began guiding her dress down to the floor.

Areiel was still helping Lireesa step from its confines when she found the inside of her thigh
with a warm, lingering kiss and the cut that had been opened earlier to allow Areiel’s admission
to slip through became a gash that Lireesa’s quick breaths did nothing to cauterize.

Areiel continued to bleed as she nuzzled between Lireesa’s thighs and ran her hands along the
backs of them while Lireesa tangled her fingers in her hair.

The hold Lireesa had on her became painful rather quickly. Elicited a soft growl from her throat
as she stood and lifted Lireesa along with herself like she was no more substantial than the
parchments Areiel sat her down upon.
Lireesa didn't loosen her grip even as Areiel went for the crook of her neck with her lips and her
teeth. And as suddenly as Areiel’s demeanor had changed, it changed again. It changed into such
softness Lireesa felt she might shatter against it.

It changed into Areiel trailing a series of kisses up the side of her neck to her cheek and slowly
reaching to turn her head to face her.

Lireesa was already working at the buttons of Areiel’s shirt when the tips of their noses just
barely brushed, and she stopped moving entirely as their lips nearly touched.

“What's wrong?” Lireesa asked in a breathless murmur, and Areiel just kept cradling her cheek
as she tried to get to a place mentally where she could even begin to speak.

“I wish you knew,” Areiel said as she rested her hips against the desk between Lireesa’s thighs.
“I wish you could see.”

Lireesa’s brow furrowed and she carefully passed the pad of her thumb across Areiel’s lips.

“I'll show you,” Areiel continued, and her hand moved from Lireesa’s cheek to curl under her
chin and lift it.

A soft sound broke in Lireesa’s throat as Areiel kissed her, and there was little she could do but
shut her eyes and part her lips as the tip of Areiel’s tongue brushed against them and that sound
was mirrored back at her. Quiet. Broken.

As broken as Areiel’s expression when she finally retreated from the kiss as Lireesa guided one
of her hands between her legs because how could you want something for so very long without
it breaking you in the end?

Lireesa’s gasp was harsh and sudden when Areiel brushed her fingertips slowly through the
wetness they’d found, and her nails dug hard and fast into Areiel’s sides.

She made no excuse for herself. Areiel knew as well as she did just how long relief for herself
had been in coming. And so, Areiel slipped an arm around her back and kept stroking as Lireesa
rocked her hips in a way that suggested the movements were beyond her control. Areiel didn't
falter. Not even when Lireesa shuddered hard against her and left welts in her skin. Especially
not then.

“More?” Areiel asked even as she dipped her fingers lower while Lireesa was still gasping and
trembling. “Let me take you to bed, Lireesa.” She continued as she pressed the tip of just one
inside of her just to allow herself to be lost for a moment in the warmth and the tightness of the
spasms that followed her orgasm.

Lireesa nodded with her head still resting against Areiel’s shoulder, and Areiel lifted her slowly
to give her a chance to wrap her legs around her hips.

They made it to the bed and Areiel lowered her onto the edge of it - leaving her there for a
moment as she hastily tugged her shirt off and discarded it on the floor. Even after a year, she
was hard and lean. Even after a year, her scars had only just begun to fade.
Lireesa reached for her and tugged her belt loose to make it easier for Areiel to slide out of her
pants on her way onto the bed and on top of Lireesa, who moved along with her easily. So easily.
Too easily.

Lireesa pushed those thoughts from her mind forcefully. Selfishly. Instead of thinking them, she
wrapped her legs around Areiel’s waist as Areiel’s hand again found what she'd only hinted at on
the desk. What she wanted terribly. To be closer. To feel so enough of Lireesa to make up for
decades of wanting.

Her fingers sank into a velvet heat she would have happily died in, and Lireesa’s head fell back
against the bed - her dark hair splayed out along cream-colored silken sheets that looked more
gold than anything in the firelight.

Even as Areiel pressed her fingers deeper, she slid one of her arms beneath Lireesa's back to
hold her up against herself as close as she could. In return, Lireesa cradled the back of her neck
and rocked her hips against the heel of Areiel’s palm because she had no patience. Not yet. Not
when she was so far from sated.

And that was fine, because neither did Areiel. Her hand was moving hard and fast despite the
gentleness with which she was kissing and holding Lireesa. Despite the barely-audible whimper
that left her when Lireesa began to tighten around her again. A whimper of desperate need. One
of far too much emotion being held at bay, and just as much being exposed all at once.

Lireesa didn't last long the second time either. She shook harder this time, as Areiel kissed her
temple and her cheeks and trailed her lips along the sharp line of her jaw and down the front of
her throat towards the pale skin of her chest. She left those same achingly tender kisses all down
the front of her body until finally she was where she wanted to be. Kissing the crooks of
Lireesa’s thighs and ghosting her lips and her breath across her still-throbbing clit.

She was an incredible lover.

Lireesa had never doubted that might be the case.

Something about the way she carried herself.

But this was beyond that. The slowing and speeding up of her tongue. The gentle, rhythmic
sucking and the eventual fullness of her fingers finding their way home again was all exactly
what Lireesa wanted at exactly the right moment.

When all was said and done, Lireesa barely had the strength to return the favor. As it turned out,
though, Areiel didn't need much. She was so close to the edge that she tumbled over it violently
almost as soon as Lireesa began touching her.

And then they were quiet and still.

Lireesa had turned from Areiel to lay with her back to her, and Areiel was trailing kisses along
the back of her neck and running her hand along the length of her side.

Lireesa had thought this would be different. That she would feel nothing but pleasure and release
and guilt for having used the utter devotion that had hung so heavily between them all these
years.
But the guilt was for another reason.

The tears were for another reason.

And she despised herself all the more when, just as Areiel’s breathing began to even out into soft
little puffs against her neck, a sob shook her slender shoulders.

“Lireesa,” Areiel cooed against her skin as she reached for Lireesa’s hand only to find it
retreating from her own. “What's wrong?”

“Don't,” Lireesa gasped as she pushed herself up from the bed only to find her head spinning
and her throat closing painfully. “Please don't.”

Areiel froze as another sob tore from Lireesa’s throat.

“Lireesa, please,” Areiel whispered urgently, quickly gathering the sheets and wrapping them
around Lireesa to cover her up before she reached to hold her face in both hands. “Please, you've
done nothing wrong. Please.”

So soft.

So utterly full of adoration. Devotion.

Lireesa had thought once upon a time that Areiel would be incredibly easy for someone else to
love. She should have remembered that like she always remembered that.

And instead, she had let Areiel touch her like...she had touched her in turn like…

Lireesa stared at the cold, dark fireplace when her eyes opened. Areiel didn't move to wipe the
tear stains from her face because she hadn't realized she'd even woken up just yet.

Inevitably, though, Areiel’s attention shifted back to Lireesa just as it always did. Just as it
always had.

“You've pulled through,” Areiel said, reaching into the breast pocket of her jacket to pull out a
silk kerchief that she passed to Lireesa wordlessly. “Are you hungry?”

“You don't need to be here, Areiel,” Lireesa whispered around the lump that still lingered in her
throat. “I can tend to myself.”

“I'm in court for Jaina anyway, and Sylvanas is with her this evening. I don't see where else I
would be.”

“With your lover,” Lireesa said emotionlessly, because she wasn't bitter. Not at all. She wished
desperately that that's where Areiel was right then. “Instead of sitting in the dark pretending you
don't despise all of this for the sake of me as though I need protecting.”

As though there is anything left to protect.

Areiel nodded thoughtfully and looked down at her own lap. “You must have dreamt while you
slept to wake so bitterly.”
Lireesa slowly turned onto her back and held back a sound of discomfort. “I never know peace,
Areiel. Not even when I rest. Not anymore.”

Areiel was struck not so much by the truth of this as by the fact that Lireesa had told the truth.

“What can I do?” She asked quietly, and Lireesa shook her head.

“Stop pitying me.”

“I have never pitied you,” Areiel said, and her voice was so soft Lireesa almost didn't hear her.

“When will you stop chasing ghosts, Areiel?” Lireesa asked, and her tone had a strangely thick
quality to it.

“When they stop haunting me.”

“They never stop,” Lireesa responded after a while. “Best to ignore them.”

“I cannot,” Areiel said without thought or hesitation. “But I can leave them for the night if they
would prefer to rest in solitude.”

Lireesa had no response for her and so, Areiel left her ghosts. Like she'd left them for years. For
centuries. Like she'd left them to run off into the forests and along the borders as far from the
city as she could be. As far from Lireesa as she could be. And yet never far enough.

“I'm so sorry, Alleria,” Verana’s voice was heavy with emotion as she ran the warm, wet cloth
she was holding carefully across Alleria’s back. “I'm so, so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Alleria croaked, because her voice still hadn't returned to
her. “I sent you off into a blizzard and you made it home, anyway. I likely almost got you killed.
Like I almost got us all killed.”

“You did no such thing,” Verana countered adamantly. “Arm, please.”

Alleria held up her arm and Verana took her wrist in her hand so she could help her support it as
she washed it. Even the heat of the private hot pool they were in still hadn't quite made it into
Alleria’s aching bones.

“You kept them alive for days. You sent me away in time that I wasn't trapped. It isn't your fault
at all. I only wish I remembered why.”

“Why, what?” Alleria asked, and she grunted quietly as Verana carefully washed her fingers -
the tips of which were still stinging from the frost burn that she was only now beginning to feel.

“Why you sent me away,” Verana said simply, and Alleria turned to look at her so quickly she
nearly passed out.

“You didn't deliver the message?” Alleria asked urgently. “About the stone?”

“No. I...you really don't need to be dealing with this right now, but I was drugged. They found
me just outside the city only yesterday. What happened with the stone?” Verana asked as she
reached to hold Alleria still as best she could.

“Get my things, Verana. Quickly.”

 Ever Closer

Kings and pawns can move one square.

Queens can wander anywhere.
Kings are limited in gait
Over-cautious and sedate;
But when the action gets too hot
Kings retreat; the pawns cannot.
-Peter B. Payne

Alleria frowned deeply as she watched her mother’s face. She gave up nothing. It had been so
long since she’d given up anything, so stony and impassive was her gaze.

“Will nothing move you?” Alleria asked pensively. She would’ve been lying if she’d said it
wasn’t a little painful. Perhaps the lingering effects of her ordeal were making her overly
sensitive to it. Perhaps she missed her mother. Perhaps, above all else, it was best not to think
about that.

“I am moved, Alleria,” Lireesa said quietly, still holding Alleria’s gaze despite her propensity to
look away from it. “I’ve heard you. The stone is broken. Winter seeps into the crack that has
been left in the vale. I am moved.”
“And yet you sit like a statue,” Alleria accused, having to forcefully keep her voice from
wavering.

Her eyes flashed to the side as Areiel slipped from the room, and then they settled back on her
mother.

“You sit like a statue while those around you cling to who you were,” Alleria whispered. “And
you wait. And you wait. For what, Lireesa? For what do you wait? Our demise?”

“I will allow no such thing,” Lireesa hissed, and her relaxed grip on the arms of her chair
became white-knuckled rather suddenly. “And I don’t need you analyzing my interpersonal
relationships while our kingdom teeters on the brink of catastrophe.”

“I thought perhaps you might wake up from your dormancy if I brought it closer to home. My
apologies. You can’t tell me that was an incorrect assumption, however.”

Lireesa let out a slow breath and relaxed her grip on her chair.

“I just need time, Alleria. I need time to...to put all of this together. The threads are many. You
must see that. You must know that. I am doing all that I can. I brought you home, did I not?”

Alleria blinked in response to that. It hadn’t occurred to her what it must’ve taken out of her
mother to do such a thing.

She hated the guilt that flooded her because Lireesa didn’t deserve it.

“It would’ve looked rather terrible for you to have left me out there. How would you ever have
explained it away?” Alleria was good at doubling down. She was good at stubbornness. She was
good at committing to venom once it had started seeping from her words.

“That’s enough, Alleria. I wouldn’t have left you. I’d have walked every mile to reach you. The
years have changed us both but they haven’t changed the fact that you are mine to protect.”

“Yours,” Alleria repeated with a scoff before she finally looked away. She hated that she’d
looked away first, but that wasn’t a fight she felt like winning just now. She didn’t have the
energy. “We are all yours. And that is all we will ever be.”

Lireesa swallowed those fiery words and they burned on the way down like embers. But she
wouldn’t lose her cool. Not again.

“It would have pained me to lose you, Alleria,” Lireesa whispered as her hands finally shifted
from the arms of her chair into her lap. “I can’t tell you how much because I simply don’t have
the words.”

Alleria looked back at her mother quickly with a furrow between her brows. She didn’t bother to
try hiding the expression of surprise on her face. Of course, Lireesa didn’t have the words. She
hadn’t said them in so very long. But knowing that she felt them? That was almost too much for
Alleria to process.

“You’ll be here in the city while you recover,” Lireesa continued, unwilling to tread further
down the path she’d just breezed by. “Don’t wander alone. Not until I’ve begun to solve this
terrible riddle we’ve been presented with. Rest.”

Alleria cleared her throat and nodded. In the next moment, she was standing and heading for the
door.

She hesitated - an apology on her lips.

It stayed there, and then she was gone.

Lireesa stared ahead with her jaw clenched even as the door Areiel had only just disappeared
through opened slowly. The sound of Areiel’s cane was more comforting than she wanted it to
be.

“Do you want me to speak to her?” Areiel asked carefully when she came to a stop behind
Lireesa’s chair.

“No,” Lireesa said without hesitating. “Thank you for escorting her. You needn’t stay.”

Areiel shifted her weight from one foot to the other and gripped her cane a little tighter. “May I
speak with you openly?”

“Of course.”

“It pains me to hear you spoken to like that. It makes me feel helpless. I wish I hadn’t heard at
all, but you’ve been so unwell since yesterday. I didn’t want to leave you. I couldn’t help
hearing.”

“I deserve to be spoken to that way, whether or not she should be the one delivering my
comeuppance.”

“You do not, Lireesa. Please believe me when I say this is the last thing that you deserve.”

“I deserve much worse than scathing words from my daughters now and again. Much worse.”

All at once, Areiel threw every ounce of caution and self-preservation she had left in her to the
wind and reached out to rest a hand on Lireesa’s shoulder.

All at once, Lireesa covered it with her own.

“We both deserve many things,” Areiel said after a moment or two. “But the world doesn’t work
based upon what one deserves, does it?”

“What do we deserve?” Lireesa asked, not even realizing her hand was trembling atop Areiel’s.

“Rest, I think,” Areiel said with an almost sad smile. “But it isn’t time, yet. It’s starting to feel an
awful lot like we have another battle ahead of us.”

“And here you are,” Lireesa murmured. “After all this time. After so many battles.”

Areiel sighed heavily and looked at Lireesa’s hand on her own. She ached to twine their fingers
together. She ached in every atom of her being to lift her index finger and run it along Lireesa’s
thumb.
“Will you make us a fire if you don’t have anywhere else to be?” Lireesa finally asked as she
pulled her hand away. “I’m so cold.”

Alleria was in no mood to run into anyone on her way to her old rooms adjacent to her sister’s.
No mood to run into anyone at all, save Verana, who would be waiting for her at her mother’s
behest. That, at least, she could handle. She could handle being back in Verana’s arms to sleep
the day away.

These were the thoughts she was lost in when she turned a corner and ran face-first into the
surprisingly strong frame of her sister. She might’ve apologized if it had seemed at all like an
accident, and yet-

“You’ve spoken to Mother.”

“I have,” Alleria said simply, already feeling rather bristly in response to her sister’s accusatory
tone. “I was just going to my rooms.”

“You can go to your rooms after you’ve told me what you’ve told her. I wouldn’t put her through
more than she’s already been to over the past two days, nor would I leave Jaina for longer than I
have to. All of this took far too much out of her.”

Her gaze was so unwavering Alleria might’ve been proud if she wasn’t so exhausted. She sighed
her resignation and leaned her shoulder into the wall as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“The stone we were en route to has been shattered. I wasn’t able to properly investigate because
we were snowed in. I gave Verana fragments from the stone, but they were removed from her
person by whoever intercepted her. I have no doubt Lireesa might have been able to identify
traces of the magic used to destroy it had she received them, but there is no point in what-ifs. We
can only move forward. Lireesa says-”

“Stop calling her that,” Sylvanas urged quietly. “I hate it when you call her that.”

Alleria was shocked into silence for a moment, her jaw clenched so hard it almost hurt.

“That is her name.”

“She’s our mother, Alleria. She’s our mother, and she’s…what will you do? With the regret?
Will you even have any? Do you even care for her at all?”

“You have your own issues to worry about, do you not? Hm? Leader of our armies? Heir to our
throne?” Alleria was again bitter. She slipped back into it so easily. The city tended to do that to
her.

“Not by choice,” Sylvanas spat in a hiss that had Alleria’s ears pressing back against her skull.
“By necessity. Because of you. Because of you, I have the weight of the world on my shoulders.
Because of you, I’ve dragged a perfectly wonderful young woman here to be wed to me and to
suffer along with me when she couldn’t possibly deserve such a fate less. And now I have to
worry about her, too. What will happen to her. How to keep her safe.”
“That’s precisely why I never wanted any of this. You could’ve just as easily told mother you
felt Vereesa might be more suited to the mantle than you are and avoided it all.”

“I can’t exactly avoid it now, can I? I love her. I can’t turn that on and off like a switch. I’m not
like you, Alleria. Alleria, who hasn’t said the word ‘mother’ more than I could count on one
hand in my entire life. I can’t just stop loving people and caring for them because it’s hard. I
don’t run, and you do. But where will you run, now? There is no running from all this. It’s
chasing us all and it’s faster than we could ever hope to be.”

Alleria’s rather fiercely defensive expression wilted and she hung her head before she shook it
slowly.

“I’m sorry, Sylvanas,” She whispered. “I’m sorry. I can’t change the way I am and it's far too
late to pretend I could bear the burden you're shouldered with.”

Sylvanas swallowed thickly past the lump in her throat and rolled her shoulders. She was rather
disappointed in herself, suddenly. For letting herself slip the way she just had.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Sylvanas admitted rather suddenly with no small measure
of shame in her tone.

“You don’t have the propensity for wine that Lireesa...that Mother has. I know you don’t. Even
with Jaina at your side, you are starving yourself in an effort to be more alert than you need to
be. You can’t attend your meetings and decipher our coded messages if you’re dead of mana
starvation, you know.”

All at once, Alleria’s eyes shifted faster than Sylvanas could turn her attention.

“Jaina,” she greeted without even attempting to feign a smile. “Am I keeping your wife from
you? My apologies.”

“Not at all,” Jaina said from the door she'd been standing in, and she did feign a smile. “I'll leave
the two of you to your conversation.”

Sylvanas didn't bother to look as she heard the door shut. It was enough just to feel the tingling
along the back of her spine as she wondered how much Jaina had heard. How much she had to
regret saying.

“This wasn't intentional,” Alleria said. “I was only trying to go to my room.”

“I know,” Sylvanas said, and her tone was all but defeated. “You should do that.”

And she did.

And Sylvanas turned slowly and made her way back into the rooms she shared with Jaina only
to find her wife sitting quietly on the sofa in the sitting room looking strangely distant.

“Jaina, I-”

“You shouldn't keep things from me,” Jaina said before Sylvanas could continue. “I was
unaware of how affected you were and why. I could've helped. But I suppose all that is moot
considering you have regrets regarding my being here.”

Sylvanas stopped in her tracks on her way over to her wife and ran her hands through her own
hair in frustration.

“I could never regret you,” she tried to explain past the haze of her frayed nerves. “I regret only
that all of this is happening before you've ever even had a chance to enjoy your time here with
me.”

Jaina shut her eyes for a moment in an attempt to gather her thoughts before she stood and made
her way over to her rather pensive-looking wife.

“You look like a beaten puppy,” Jaina observed gently as she reached out and combed her
fingers through the mess Sylvanas had made of her hair. “I'm mature enough to understand these
things, Sylvanas. Even if they sting in the moment. Give me more credit.”

“I don't know what to do,” Sylvanas admitted as Jaina pulled her in closer. “I feel...I don't know.
I just don't know.”

Jaina opened herself up much like she had with Lireesa during their lessons and their venture to
save Alleria, and all at once the jagged edges of Sylvanas’s nerves seemed to settle and smooth
as Jaina’s reserves were siphoned to her, however small they were just then.

“You can't possibly have the strength for this,” Sylvanas whispered through her gratitude for
Jaina’s gift before she leaned forward against her. “Thank you.”

“What is mine is yours whenever you have need of it,” Jaina reassured against her wife’s temple.
“I'm only sorry I didn't realize sooner that you were hurting. I might have helped you to avoid a
fight with your sister.”

“We always fight,” Sylvanas reassured Jaina quietly. “I meant everything that I said to her. My
greatest consolation in life is that all of it led me to you.”

“I'll take that,” Jaina said with a soft laugh as she slipped her hands from her wife's hair and
lifted her chin so she could lean in for a lingering kiss. “But only if you take me to bed. I truly
am tired. I think I'll be starving afterward, however.”

“For what?” Sylvanas asked, more than a little pleased that she'd finally been presented with a
problem she could solve today.

“Dinner, obviously,” Jaina scoffed as she began removing her wife’s coat. “And then you. It
might do us both some good to keep ourselves occupied for a while.”

“Lireesa what are you doing here?”

Anasterian sounded justifiably agitated by her sudden appearance in his tent. Their forward
camp was under attack, after all. Or so Areiel had reported. Just as Lireesa had asked her to.

“I've come to give you the chance to right the wrongs you have done,” Lireesa said impassively
as she gestured, and Anasterian’s eyes widened as a visible ripple skipped across every surface
inside. A shield. A powerful one. “The wrongs you've allowed to happen.”

“Explain.”

“Liadrin’s parents,” Lireesa said. “Your own son,” she continued, and then the next words
broke in her throat. Meant to be a name. A name she couldn't seem to choke past her lips.

“My mate.”

Anasterian sighed heavily.

“Lireesa I've told you countless times that that is just the-”

“The way of things, yes. And so, you sit here in your tent under the impression one of our camps
is being attacked. You sit here safe in the center of us all knowing no one will reach you. Like
every other time. And yet so unlike any other time.”

Lireesa’s eyes blazed even as her voice stayed steady and low, and Anasterian shifted in his seat
- suddenly all too wary of her presence.

“Remove yourself from my tent, Windrunner. Or I will banish you into the darkness you think
you so enjoy. I have grown so tired of your testing me.”

“You cannot banish me to what belongs to me,” Lireesa said, walking around the circular tent
Anasterian was situated in the middle of. Glancing here and there at various luxuries those that
lived in the outer camps might never have seen in their lifetimes. “I have lived in the darkness
since the day of her death. As has my daughter. And yet even when your own son was lost to it,
you grieved in silence. Impotent, cowardly silence.”

“You are no one to tell me how to grieve,” Anasterian spat with more venom than Lireesa had
ever expected from him. She was almost impressed. “And we are no match for those that dwell in
the forests.”

“You are not. Upon that much we can agree,” Lireesa said as she finally came to a stop in front
of him with the fire between them. “But I will not be ‘no one’ for long. And I will fix what you
will not. I will create what you cannot. I will not allow us to be lost, Anasterian.”

“Oh?” He scoffed as he gestured toward the closed flap of his tent. “And what do you intend to
do? I am surrounded by-”

“No one.”

Lireesa finished for him and her eyes glowed ever brighter.

“How did you find your dinner this evening?” Lireesa asked with a faint smile. A dangerous,
dark smile. “Sylann is so young to have such talent with our meager game, don't you think?”

Anasterian fell silent for a moment as he took stock of himself. As he realized how short his
breaths had become. As he felt sweat gathering on his brow despite the winter raging outside.

“You never had any intention of giving me any sort of chance.” He said in sudden realization.
“No,” Lireesa said. “No, I did not. I've given you far too many. And you never had any intention
of keeping any of us safe, save yourself.”

“They will know,” Anasterian warned, his voice growing ever-heavier with rasp and
sluggishness. “They will know what you've done.”

“They will know that the attack was a ruse. A distraction for the forest dwellers to reach you
with their spells. That dark magic fell upon their aging king. Magic he could not overcome.”

Lireesa knelt closer to him slowly as he leaned to the side, no longer able to support himself. She
stayed just out of reach as he grabbed for her.

“Magic that I, however, can shield us from for the rest of our days once you have breathed your
last. Magic that I have already bent to my will.”

“Poison?” Anasterian asked incredulously, indignant even now. “You dragged a young girl
into-”

“The cook remembers nothing,” Lireesa said, disinterested in allowing him to finish. “Just as
the camp under siege by my phantoms will remember nothing.”

Lireesa stood slowly and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head.

“Rest easy, my King,” she said as she looked down into the fading glow of his eyes. “It is what
you've always done.”

“Won't you sleep?” Areiel’s voice was soft as she picked up Lireesa’s plate - barely touched. But
at least she'd eaten something.

Lireesa’s brow was furrowed deeply as she looked into the flickering flames of the fire Areiel
had built for her.

“Lireesa?”

“I dream, now, even when I'm awake,” Lireesa murmured, and Areiel paused where she stood as
the glow of the fire cast shadows over the queen’s sharp features. “Did you know?”

Areiel sat the plate back down upon the table beside Lireesa’s chair and sat in the one next to it,
her eyes never leaving the other woman.

“I didn't,” Areiel said. “What do you mean, you dream?”

“Like memories,” Lireesa said with a vague gesture of her hand in front of her. “But they cloud
my vision with their sharpness. I feel...I feel far from here.”

“You are here, still, Lireesa. As surely as I am. I swear to you,” Areiel didn't let any of the
urgency she felt seep into her tone. “And here is where you must stay.”

“With every breath, I try, Areiel,” Lireesa said, finally turning her gaze to meet the one that had
been staring so intently at her. “And yet the hounds that are my deeds that have been chasing me
are many and quick. I grow slower every day.”

“Lireesa…everything you have done was for a reason. You mustn't forget I was at your side for
all of it. You mustn't forget that when you offered to take the burden of truth from me, that I
refused.”

“You shouldn't have,” Lireesa said softly, and the corner of her lips shifted slightly. “This burden
shouldn't be shared. It still doesn't have to be. You know this.”

Areiel felt the chill of creeping panic at the very suggestion.

“I would sooner die than to relieve myself so that you might suffer the story of our past in
solitude,” Areiel said almost fiercely. So fiercely that Lireesa was pulled rather harshly back into
the now and out of the memories that now tainted her every moment.

“I would not take anything from you against your will,” Lireesa said as she adjusted her seat
when she realized she'd been still for so long that she'd begun to feel sore.

“What makes me different?” Areiel asked quietly. “What makes me different than the others?
Sylann, Liadrin, Valeera? All of them?”

Lireesa looked towards her own hands in her lap and shook her head.

“Perhaps I'm too selfish to do for you what I've done for them. I know in the depths of my being
you shouldn't suffer the same waking nightmares that I suffer, and yet I do nothing to stop it.
Perhaps...perhaps it is enough to have one person who knows the truth of it all. And for that, I
am truly sorry.”

“Is that all?” Areiel asked as her heart hammered in her chest. It had been so long since Lireesa
had spoken to her like this. So long since she'd seemed like a real living, breathing thing instead
of just an idea.

“No,” Lireesa breathed. “No, I don't think I could look into your eyes ever again knowing I had
done such a thing to you against your will or without you knowing.”

“And yet you look at the others.”

“They are not like you,” Lireesa countered as she looked again at Areiel despite her better
judgment.

Areiel felt choked, suddenly. At a loss for words she desperately needed, now. A silence fell
over them that stretched for far too long before she finally managed to speak.

“What can I do?” She asked as she twined her own fingers together tightly in her lap. “If you
don't tell me how to help you I fear I might go mad, Lireesa.”

“Stay,” Lireesa said without thinking. Without even being able to consider the implications. The
weakness. “I am so very tired.”

“And the dreams?” Areiel said quietly. “I would keep them at bay with everything that I am,
could I do such a thing.”
“Even you are not so strong as all that,” Lireesa said with a chuckle that allowed Areiel to
breathe a little more deeply. “Would you beat them, then, with your dashing cane?”

Areiel didn't say she would do anything. Areiel didn't say she would gladly lay in fire to allow
Lireesa to avoid getting soot on her clothing. She didn't say anything at first. She merely smiled
and shook her head as she glanced at the cane leaning against the table between them.

“I will stay,” Areiel finally said. “With my dashing cane.”

 Fianchetto

“Something is troubling you,” Liadrin murmured into the soft, damp heat of Valeera’s hair as she
trailed her fingertips up her side.

“Something is troubling us all,” Valeera whispered against the front of Liadrin’s throat, still
breathless from the night they’d shared together thus far. “This is nothing new.”

Liadrin pulled back slowly and sought out Valeera’s eyes in the darkness with a crease between
her brows as she lifted her hand to touch along the younger woman’s cheek. She didn’t pry. She
didn’t have to. Something about the way Liadrin looked at her spoke louder than words ever
could. Something in Liadrin’s eyes was deafening. Devastating. Because they were so much
more like mirrors on nights like these than anything else.

“It’s Dar’Khan,” Valeera said softly after a while, and the name came out against the pad of
Liadrin’s thumb as it passed across her lips. “No one is supposed to know that I’m watching
him. Not even you.”

Liadrin stayed quiet as she propped herself up slowly on one arm and reached for Valeera’s hand
to draw it closer to herself. That was all the encouragement Valeera needed to splay her fingers
over Liadrin’s still-flushed chest. “What do you mean when you say it’s him?”
“All of this,” Valeera whispered, and her voice was trembling suddenly. Swimming in a sea of
fear that speaking such a thing out loud threatened to drown her in. “He’s...I heard him speaking
to someone. I heard him tell someone Lireesa is weakened. I think he’s the root of it all, and I
think...I think he’s trying to make me go mad so that no one will listen to me. The shadows.
The...the guard.”

“I’m listening to you,” Liadrin said gently, so gently that it cut through the fear like a hot knife.
Valeera wasn’t sure which was worse. “I won’t ever stop listening.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Valeera admitted, because all her cards were already on the table.
Why stop now? “I truly don’t know what to do.”

“I think you should tell Lireesa everything. I’m sure you’ve told her what she’s ordered you to
tell her. But I mean everything. Even about what happened in the hallway.”

“If I told her what happened in the hallway you would be implicated in-”

“Let me be implicated. I will tell her myself.”

Valeera fell silent as she took a moment to digest those words. To come to terms with the fact
that Liadrin meant them, and all the implications that lurked within them.

It was Valeera’s turn to move, now. To sit up and gather the sheets around her lap and push her
own hair away from her eyes in an elaborate dance of time-buying that might have worked on
anyone less jaded than her would-be lover.

But Liadrin’s eyes hadn’t changed. What they held within them hadn’t changed.

“You know what it could mean,” Valeera said, because it wasn’t a question she needed to ask. It
was a certainty. The danger of crossing Lireesa was a certainty.

She had delivered those certainties herself. Many times.

“She wouldn’t harm me,” Liadrin said, and she stayed where she’d been lying on her side
because even now, Valeera seemed like she’d be so easy to scare off. Like a hare if a hare had
fangs. “And if she did harm me instead of you, then that is a risk well worth taking.”

“I don’t think you mean that,” Valeera lied to both of them, and Liadrin let her. She let her have
that small comfort before it was gone, as fleeting as anything else and just as quickly forgotten
as Liadrin reached for her and covered her leg over the sheets with her hand.

“You know that I do,” Liadrin almost whispered the words because once a hare started running it
wouldn’t stop until its heart gave out or it was caught. “You know that until now I haven’t lived
for far too long. I haven’t felt for far too long. I wouldn’t let that slip through my fingers so
easily.”

“And what makes you think I would allow you to slip through mine?” Valeera blurted out, and
the anger in her tone was more surprising to Liadrin than anything else.

“What makes you think that?” Valeera demanded again when Liadrin’s lips parted to produce no
words at all. “These nights are the only thing I have ever been able to truly call mine. These
nights are the only things that don’t feel borrowed and you think I’ll piss it all away out of some
misplaced sense of morality that you know I don’t have.”

Liadrin should’ve been used to not having the right words by now. This entire conversation had
been filled, apparently, with not the right words. And yet.

“I’m sorry,” She said as quickly as she could manage to recover. “Don’t be angry with me. It
shouldn’t be any surprise to you that you are terribly hard to read.”

“But I’m not, am I?” Valeera asked, and yet the softened tone of her voice suggested her hackles
had lowered at least a little. “You read me like a book. Even when you pretended not to.”

“Only because you allow it,” Liadrin countered, and Valeera’s long-averted gaze finally returned
to her own. There was a rather muddled mixture of gratitude and irritation present there, and
Liadrin sighed in response. Best to press on now, then.

“I’ll go to her with you if you wish.”

“No,” Valeera said as her eyes slipped shut and she clenched her jaw tightly. “No, I’ll go,
Liadrin. I’ll go alone. Just...not right now.”

“Not right now, then,” Liadrin agreed softly because even she could give that, having taken so
much. “But when?”

“She never sleeps anymore,” Valeera murmured, as though Liadrin didn’t know that all too well.
“Bathe with me before I go.”

If Liadrin had been surprised by Valeera’s sudden willingness to do what was, objectively, the
right thing, she kept that surprise to herself as she finally pushed herself up and moved to sit on
the side of the bed.

“You could always go in the morning, you know,” Liadrin said as she watched Valeera untangle
herself from the sheets.

“I would rather get it over with,” Valeera said, slipping from the bed and stretching herself out as
Liadrin moved to stand behind her and looped her arms around her slender waist to pull her back
against her chest.

Even as tense as she was about what was to come, Valeera couldn’t help but sink back into the
strength Liadrin always offered her so freely now. The strength and the warmth of her arms and
the soft acceptance of her lips along Valeera’s shoulders for as long as Valeera would allow
something so tender.

A long while, it seemed to Liadrin, though she wasn’t inclined to complain. She certainly wasn’t
inclined to complain when Valeera turned into her arms and slid her hands up her chest to stroke
up the back of her neck into the mess of red hair that hung loose around her shoulders.

“If you don’t stop we won’t ever make it to the bath,” Valeera complained half-heartedly as
Liadrin grasped her hips to keep her close and leaned in for a kiss that Valeera willingly gave.
“That wouldn’t be so terrible,” Liadrin murmured against Valeera’s lips before she kissed her
again. “Morning, remember?”

“I don’t think I can take another night,” Valeera said suddenly, parting from Liadrin’s lips and
pressing her own into a thin line. Her forehead met Liadrin’s chest and rested there as Liadrin’s
arms slipped back around her - this time sliding up around her back to hold onto her more
securely. “Lireesa isn’t the only one who never sleeps anymore.”

“Let’s go, then,” Liadrin murmured against Valeera’s temple, having ducked her head to reach it.
“I’ll wash your hair for you.”

Valeera wasn't especially used to being nervous, and yet her nerves were nearly getting the better
of her as she made her way down dark, empty corridors. She wasn't even sure why. Perhaps
she'd very rarely had to deliver bad news to Lireesa and, when she had, she'd known with
certainty she would be able to handle the inevitable assignment that would follow.

This was different in every way. This was Dar’Khan Drathir. And he could end her existence as
easily as though she were a candle to be snuffed before bed.

These were the thoughts plaguing her as she turned another corner and came to a near-stumbling
halt at the sight of what awaited her at the end of the hallway.

A body. Decaying.

The smell wasn't altogether familiar to her, but it could be nothing else. Her ears pressed back
and her heart leapt into her throat as she forced herself to get closer only to be met with the
familiar features of the guard she'd…

For a moment, she found herself frozen. She found herself remembering how those greying lips
had felt against her own and how that pallid skin had felt beneath her fingertips when the woman
had been very, very much alive. Alive and vibrant in a way Valeera had never been. Confident
and charming in a way Valeera had found magnetic, however fleetingly.

The sound of her neck snapping echoed in Valeera’s ears suddenly and she was pulled from her
stupor and plunged into a panic that had her turning away from the body quickly. She never even
had a chance to catch her footing before she stumbled and fell over something solid on the floor
in front of her.

“Valeera?”

Her spine tingled dangerously as that voice hissed throughout the hallway.

“Why?”

She could smell her own poison now. Poison that would've killed the woman as surely as
Liadrin’s hands had ended her suffering, and with none of the mercy.

“I didn't mean to,” Valeera whispered urgently, and by the time she pushed herself back to her
feet the body was no longer beneath her. It was at the opposite end of the corridor from where it
had started. Lifeless. Waiting.
“Please,” Valeera gasped as she reached for a dagger in her tunic with trembling hands. “Please.
I didn't mean to.”

Her dagger could do nothing for her as the shadows that dwelled along the edges of the floor
crept ever inwards toward her. It was useless, utterly, as they slithered over her feet and up her
legs.

They were so cold, even through her breeches. So strong, as they wrapped around her calves
despite how terribly she strained to move away.

And once she could no longer even hope to escape, the body at the end of the hall moved.

Just a twitch at first. Just enough that Valeera held her breath as she tried to focus through the
blur of her vision that the tears pooling in her eyes had caused.

Just a twitch, and then so much more.

While Valeera stood there, her rib cage heaving with each rapid, shaking breath, the body stood
of its own volition. Its eyes opened to reveal an utter absence of the glow of life.

“Valeera?” The grey lips moved to speak her name, and Valeera gripped desperately at the
pommel of her poison-laced dagger. She considered cutting at the tendrils.

But they were not solid. They were not real. And she was. And no one was more aware of the
deadliness of her poisons than Valeera herself. So, despite how her hand itched to attempt to cut
herself free of the tendrils now coiling around her thighs, she just stood there like a trapped
animal - fangs bared and ears pressed back as far as they could be.

“Why?”

The corpse was so close to her now that the smell of it burned her nose even as tears slipped
down her cheeks.

She held the dagger out as though it would do any good against whatever terrible thing this was,
and just as the corpse stretched out a hand in her direction, it vanished into a plume of smoke as
black as the magic still holding her in place.

The corpse was replaced by a sickly smile. By long, black hair and cruel eyes and mage robes.

Valeera nearly screamed. She jerked physically in response to Dar’Khan’s sudden presence.

“I'll scream,” Valeera warned suddenly, feeling sick in the very core of her being about having to
make such a threat. Weak. Helpless.

And then her brow furrowed as Dar’Khan lifted a brow.

“For whom?” He asked simply in an easy drawl that shouldn't have sounded like a snake hissing
but somehow managed to. “Your lover? Our Grand Lady Knight? Shining beacon of perfection
and loyalty?”
Valeera realized all at once that she was crying, yet she didn't reach to wipe her own tears. She
stared on in defiance. In rage.

“She will hear me,” Valeera whispered, not at all sure that's was true. “She will come for me, or
she will know it was you who has done whatever it is that you plan to do. And then Lireesa will
know.”

“Perhaps you should scream for her, then. You do it so often, after all.” Dar’Khan mused with an
almost bored, vague wave of his hand. “She can do the job herself if she comes.”

Valeera's heart sank into the depths of her being at his words.

“...What?”

Dar’Khan chuckled at first, looking down at his velvet slippers and folding his arms behind his
back. He lifted his eyes back and sought out the fear in Valeera’s. Fear, he'd been expecting.
Pain, he had not.

“Oh,” he tsk’d with a frown. “You thought she loved you?”

Valeera didn't answer. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped her.

“Pity,” Dar’Khan sighed. “I thought you had more sense than that. That the streets might have
taught you what the court has taught me about other people.”

“You're lying,” Valeera whispered with painfully little conviction. “She has nothing to do with
this.”

“Doesn't she?” Dar’Khan asked. “And how do I know about your murdered former lover? About
the location of her body?”

Valeera shook her head.

“Because it was you that was controlling her,” Valeera countered quickly. “I know it was you.”

“Then how did I know you would be here tonight?” Dar’Khan asked without pause. Yet there
was nothing snide about his tone. He sounded almost sympathetic. “Hm? How did I know you
would be seeking out our Queen's ear at such an irregular hour, if not for your beloved Lady?”

Valeera lowered her dagger slowly and choked down the bile that rose in her throat.

Dar’Khan managed to avoid looking like he'd won as he finally moved closer to her.

“Now that I have your attention, can I release you?” He asked with a softness in his tone that
Valeera was almost too numb to make out.

“Yes.”

Her voice was a whisper. It felt, to her, as far away as it sounded.

The tendrils were gone with a wave of his hand, and Valeera sheathed her dagger slowly. It was
useless here. Even in her daze, she knew that with certainty.
“How-” the words caught in Valeera’s throat and she cleared it only to find it aching terribly.
“How long has...why…”

“I am the Queen’s advisor, Valeera. And Liadrin’s loyalties lie with Lireesa before all else.
Unfortunately, I might have used that misbegotten sense of loyalty to my advantage as I am
wont to do.”

If Valeera noticed he'd largely avoided her question, she didn't say. She just stood and stared at
him as he adjusted his robes with a heavy sigh.

“As for why? That, I cannot say. I only know that the only person I trust is myself and I thought
the same of you before tonight. I thought you crude and cunning beneath the lingering flaws of
your upbringing, and now...now I find that you've fallen so helplessly for a woman who hides
her own sins so much more convincingly, even, than I do, that you've thrown any and all caution
to the wind. It's rather disappointing. I almost pity you. People do not love other people,
Valeera.”

He paused as he tilted his head to the side and looked into Valeera’s eyes, now pooled with tears
she would no longer allow herself to shed. “People only appreciate the convenience of
attachment. Of the symbiotic nature of it all. Love is for fools. And I don't believe we are fools.”

Valeera blinked hastily and tried to keep up with what was happening. Tried to dissect each
word to find the lies within the truths, and yet. And yet, he was right, really. He was right about
love. About trust. And perhaps she had made a mistake.

“If you meant to kill me tonight, you would have done it already,” Valeera observed quietly. “So
tell me what you want.”

“There she is,” Dar’Khan chuckled. “It's not so much something I want as it is something you
have very little choice in. Rid me of Liadrin. She will die by Lireesa’s side if given half the
chance, and I have enough barriers in my way to last me a lifetime as it is. Do this for me, and I
guarantee you a life beyond this no matter the outcome.”

“Or?” Valeera asked as her scalp burned like her hair had been set ablaze.

“Or I kill you, myself. Here and now. I turn you back into the nothing you once were on a
permanent scale.”

Dar’Khan was silent for a while as he waited for an answer that didn't come, and he had to will
patience into himself where there was none.

“Did she make love to you tonight, Valeera?” He asked in a soft murmur. “Did she say pretty
words to you as you gave yourself to her? Knowing she was sending you to your death
afterward?”

Valeera looked away from him. She had no choice. The pain wracking every fiber of her being
allowed for no further scrutiny. “Please stop.”

“Has it occurred to you that you've no clue what love should even look like?” Dar’Khan asked,
ignoring her request. “That she has all the power to paint the image for you and make herself the
focal point? The epitome of the very idea of it?”
“The more you talk, the less I want to listen, Drathir,” Valeera said with all the strength left in
her. “If you know me so well you must know I value my own life quite highly. No need for more
words.”

Dar’Khan looked pleasantly surprised for a moment before he inclined his head in Valeera’s
direction.

“Obviously you know time is of the essence, then,” He said. “Seeing as how she expects you to
be gone by now.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He simply slipped away into the shadows. Valeera wasn’t sure if
he’d walked or if he’d vanished. She wasn’t sure of a whole hell of a lot right then. But the
moment she knew she was alone, she moved towards the nearest wall and leaned into it for
support as the first heavy sob wracked her body.

Liadrin’s breaths were so soft and so even.

Valeera had listened to them so very many times. So very many nights.

They’d become the lullaby she’d never had. They’d become safety. They’d gotten her closer to
home than she’d ever realized until just now. Until she was standing over the bed in the dark
bereft of it all. Empty. Gutted.

She didn’t have any tears left, now. She’d spent them all in that hallway where she’d emptied the
contents of her stomach before stumbling away.

Her thoughts were a muddle.

Freckles.

The freckles across Liadrin’s broad, bare back.

She’d drawn lines between them like a map once.

She’d kissed those lines to make them stay.

Terrible, empty things.

Pretty things that meant nothing, now.

Liadrin always slept just on the edge of the bed like she needed to be ready to slip from it at a
moment’s notice and yet she was blissfully unaware of Valeera’s presence. Of the dagger in her
hand. Of the pain radiating from Valeera in unbearable waves.

She loved her.

Valeera realized now that there could be no doubting it.

She had loved Liadrin with whatever microscopic pieces inside of her were capable of such a
thing.
And she still loved her, even as she leaned over and slipped her hand in front of Liadrin’s neck
until the blade was resting against her throat.

Never again, she promised herself. Never again would she believe in anything, as she tried to
apply pressure to the blade and failed miserably.

How her hand trembled without nicking Liadrin’s skin, she would never know. How she had any
tears left, she would never know. But they were slipping down her already-stained cheeks freely.

“Did she send you?”

Liadrin’s voice was raspy. Her eyes didn’t open.

Valeera realized she’d never been asleep.

She couldn’t answer. Not without a terrible sound escaping her throat.

“It’s okay,” Liadrin whispered, and Valeera found the encouragement in her voice nauseating.
“It’s okay, you know. Go ahead.”

“You lied.”

The words fell from Valeera’s lips unbidden.

“You don’t need to make any excuses for yourself,” Liadrin said, and her eyes opened into tiny
glowing slits in the darkness. They didn’t look at Valeera. They simply looked resolved. “I’m
just glad it’s you.”

Valeera’s thoughts were racing.

Did she send you?

Liadrin thought these orders were Lireesa’s.

What did that mean?

What could that mean?

Slowly, Valeera became aware of the sound of rustling sheets as Liadrin turned onto her back-
not bothering to attempt to move the dagger from its place against her neck. Instead, she reached
up and rested her hand against Valeera’s forearm for a moment before sliding it to cover her
hand.

“If it’s you or I, I would choose myself every time,” Liadrin said - her voice steady and calm.

Valeera wondered how long she’d waited for this.

For the nightmares to go away. The guilt.

For peace.

“You lied,” Valeera whispered again, except it was more of a plea than a statement.
“Not to you,” Liadrin said, and she smiled almost sadly. “Never to you. I need you to know that
before you do what you need to do. I need you to know that I meant it all.”

Did she send you?

Valeera’s next breath caught in her throat. Forced its way past the lump that had formed there
with a pitiful, gut-wrenching sound.

“You know who sent me,” Valeera argued half-heartedly, her knuckles turning white as she
gripped more tightly at her dagger. “You know what you did.”

Liadrin sat up, then. Valeera only just managed to adjust the dagger so it wouldn’t cut her. So the
poison already dancing against her skin wouldn’t find a way in.

Liadrin’s hand was still on her wrist. Stroking at it softly as Valeera’s glazed eyes darted over
her. The scar on her chest. The subtle bruise on her shoulder that Valeera had left there earlier
that week.

The look of acceptance on her face.

Forgiveness.

“I’ve done so many things,” Liadrin answered - her throat shifting against the razor’s edge of
Valeera’s blade as she spoke. “I can think of no kinder release from their burden. But I have
never lied to you. And I love you. As much as someone like me can. With every breath I took in
your presence, you were loved. And you will be loved, still.”

“He’s going to kill me,” Valeera’s voice was a near-whimper, and Liadrin’s brow furrowed in
confusion for the first time as the dagger moved away from her throat and then clattered to the
marble floor. “I can’t. I can’t.”

Valeera meant to move away. She meant to run for the door and never stop running.

She meant to do a lot of things.

What she did do, in the end, was collapse into Liadrin’s arms just as Liadrin moved to keep her
from falling to the floor.

What she did do, was break apart against Liadrin’s chest. She broke apart so utterly she wasn’t
sure she would survive. Wasn’t sure she wanted to.

Liadrin lifted her into her arms and walked her into the bathroom where she sat on the edge of
the tub to fill the marble basin with steaming water. She never let go of Valeera all the while.
She carried her across the room to the sink while the tub was filling and poured her a glass of
water after she sat her down on the edge of the countertop.

“You’ve been sick,” Liadrin whispered. “You’ll feel better if you drink this.”

Valeera could do little else but listen. She couldn’t process how close she’d just come to doing
something unthinkable.
She couldn’t process the fact that she never would’ve gone through with it. Even if Liadrin
hadn’t woken. Even if Liadrin had confirmed everything Dar’Khan had said.

She couldn’t.

But it was true.

She’d never hesitated. She’d never paused to think before she’d used her blade once it was
where it needed to be.

“I wasn’t going to,” she managed to gasp through the hundreds of words chomping at the bit to
race out of her mouth. “I wasn’t.”

“Drink,” Liadrin murmured as she drew some of Valeera’s hair away from her face and lifted the
glass to her lips. “It doesn’t matter if you were or not.”

Valeera only managed to get a few sips of water down before she was pushing it away.

Valeera wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but in the next few moments, Liadrin had
helped her out of her clothes and gotten into the bath with her. She wasn’t physically dirty. Not
really. They’d only just bathed together before Valeera left. But the hot water seemed to go a
long way in washing Dar’Khan’s stain of magic from her. What the water missed, Liadrin’s
gentle touches did not.

The words spilled from her naturally. Everything Dar’Khan had said. Everything he had
insinuated. The words flooded from her and the pain they’d inflicted in her was sharp anew and
even that, Liadrin worked out of her, patient as ever, until her heart was no longer racing and her
breathing was normal.

“I can disappear, you know,” Liadrin said once it had been quiet for a long while and the only
sounds came from their occasional shifting in the water. “Forever, if it will keep you safe.”

“I’ll never be safe,” Valeera responded, exhaustion heavy in her voice. “But I know now I have
no real desire to live in a world that you aren’t in. You leaving is no real option. Not for the
kingdom, and not for me.”

“In the morning when the guard presence is heavier we’ll go to Lireesa together,” Liadrin said,
not bothering to attempt to argue. “We need to stay clear of the bedroom if he can hear us or see
us there. I have enough towels in here to make you comfortable on the floor.”

“I held a blade to your neck not even an hour ago and now you’re concerned about my level of
comfort until morning,” Valeera breathed incredulously as she finally allowed herself to lean her
head back against Liadrin’s chest.

“These things happen,” Liadrin murmured before pressing her lips to Valeera’s shoulder. “I
made my peace long ago. And now we know with certainty Dar’Khan is behind all this. Or at
least some of it. Once Lireesa is equally convinced, it will only be a question of forcing the rest
out of him.”

Liadrin found Valeera’s hand beneath the surface of the water and she twined their fingers
together.
“And that’s one of your specialties, is it not?”

Valeera only turned her head to the side to find the warmth underneath Liadrin’s chin. She didn’t
need to answer. They both knew who she was. What she was.

“Do you believe me?” Liadrin asked in a whisper against the top of Valeera’s head.

“I think so,” Valeera responded, her voice barely audible. She was barely awake, now.

“That’s a start,” Liadrin said before she kissed Valeera’s hair. “Soak a while longer. I’ll make up
a bed for us.”

“Stay,” Valeera said quickly, holding onto Liadrin’s hand a little tighter. “Stay here with me,
instead.”

Liadrin relaxed back in the water behind Valeera, and Valeera turned sideways so that she could
curl against Liadrin between her legs.

“I’ll stay for as long as you let me, you know,” Liadrin responded, slipping an arm around
Valeera’s back to stroke along her spine. “I’ll-”

“Please stop talking,” Valeera said even as she pressed closer. “Just…-”

“Okay,” Liadrin said, relieving Valeera of the burden of explaining herself further.

There had been enough burdens both carried and relieved that night, and there would be more
than enough added to the pile come morning.
 Amends

Lireesa’s eyes scanned over the letter Valeera had left for her not even two days ago. Liadrin’s
words echoed in her head.

Dar’Khan. All this time. He hadn’t been maneuvering politically. He hadn’t been working his
way into and out of favor for monetary gain. It hadn’t even been vanity. It hadn’t been anything
at all that Lireesa had guessed.

She’d been blind.

She took another sip of her wine as her scrying stone weighed heavily in her hand. Another sip
of mana wine that was much stronger than that which she usually drank. She would need it, of
that much, she was sure. She would need it, because now she knew Dar’Khan was all too aware
that he’d been watched. And that was why she was alone. That was why she’d sent them all
away.

Because if she could see Dar’Khan, then Dar’Khan could see her. And she couldn’t have any
more of this. She couldn’t take another ounce of weight on her tired shoulders.

Another sip of wine and the glass was empty, and her eyes brightened slowly as she looked
down at the polished surface of the stone in her hand and murmured spells under her breath.
Spells of protection. Spells of sight.
She didn’t dare hope they would be enough, but even as the air around her grew thick with her
own magic, Dar’Khan’s image flickered across the surface of the stone and his words met her
ears - grainy and far away, but just barely audible.

It’s been handled, and with the orphans separated from her, either dead or otherwise, she’s more
vulnerable than she ever has been before. Easily dealt with. You have my word.

Whatever voice answered came through garbled and distorted. It was full of anger and power
unimaginable. Even without being able to understand it, Lireesa felt the hairs along the nape of
her neck rise.

Impossible. It’s simply not possible that this could fail. I’ve laid my plans too carefully. I’ve-

Dar’Khan’s voice trailed off and his image in the stone flickered as his eyes cut to the side. Like
he’d seen something over his shoulder.

Lireesa wasn’t fast enough.

Even as she went to sever the connection she’d made, she felt it solidify. She felt her own ever-
shifting tendrils of magic become as good as cement where they reached out to the magister’s
own stone.

The presence Dar’Khan had been talking to was no longer there. It was only the two of them.
Only her, and Dar’Khan peering into his stone with a sickly-sweet smile on his face.

“My Queen,” He greeted as Lireesa strained in her chair fruitlessly. She’d poured so much of
herself into her spell there was no separating her body from her mind, now. Dar’Khan had them
both. “I’m so pleased to see you’ve decided to make this so easy for me.”

Lireesa looked around her room, then, because it didn’t matter if she looked away from the
stone. Not now. Not anymore. Her skin crawled with Dar’Khan’s presence as she stared into the
solitude she was met with.

He gave her time.

He gave her time to regret just how alone she was. Time to truly feel just how alone she was.
And time seemed, suddenly, to stretch forever as he raked through her mind.

“Where is your broken protector now, hm?” Dar’Khan asked - and his voice wasn’t far away
from her anymore. It was all around her. “Where are your orphans? Your tools? As broken as
your Ranger, I’m afraid. The dead one is the lucky one, truly.”

Lireesa managed to bare her fangs as her hand trembled around the stone she couldn’t let go of.
Her nostrils flared as sweat beaded across her forehead. And it was all, again, fruitless.

“I know who you must be wishing for more than any of them, though,” Dar’Khan continued -
his voice like the tongues of snakes flicking against her ears.

“Don’t,” Lireesa growled through her teeth, every muscle in her body tense just from forcing out
the word. It was good, now, to let him think he was digging into the wounds he was opening in
her. It was good to give him something to focus on as the stone heated up in her hand. “Do not
speak of her.”

Warmer and warmer.

Hotter and hotter.

He chuckled darkly.

“Oh, how you still pine for her, Lireesa,” Dar’Khan mused. “It is so terribly sad, the entire thing.
Like some sort of awful play. Like some minor-key ballad sung flat and played on instruments
with broken strings.”

She felt real pain, now. She felt the tendrils of her magic begin to break in his grasp. The jagged
edges of her own magic were as good as daggers, now, to her mind. They sawed and cut and tore
at her as the stone grew ever warmer in her hand.

Until it was searing at her flesh.

Until a crack formed in its shining surface.

“What are you doing?” Dar’Khan asked, his tone suddenly as shocked as it was urgent. “Stop at
once.”

Another crack, as a tear slipped down Lireesa’s cheek. Of pain. Of strain. Of impotent rage.

Dar’Khan realized as his hold faltered for a moment that he had no time left to draw this out. He
had no time left to toy with his long-awaited meal. To savor this moment.

His magic sprung forth from him through his clinging link to Lireesa and Lireesa let out a roar
of defiance. All at once, the stone shattered and fell from her blistering hand in a quick blaze of
flame.

Dar’Khan’s cry of pain echoed even in her own room, and then he was gone. Gone from her
mind.

But Lireesa’s breaths were coming in short, shallow gasps.

Her entire body shook where it had landed in a heap upon the floor.

With every bit of energy she had left in her, Lireesa tried to focus on something. Anything. On
the table in front of her. The searing pain in her hand. The sound of her own heartbeat pounding
frantically in her ears.

But it was no use.

Her vision grew dark, and if she weren’t so desperate to reach Dar’Khan - to stop him in
whatever he was doing - she might have recognized her impending loss of consciousness for the
blessing that it was.

If only.
“She asked that she not be disturbed, My Lady,” the guard nearly winced when he said the
words. Areiel was a difficult woman to deny - standing there broad-shouldered and as unmoving
as a statue. “Not by anyone.”

Areiel’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the guard. “And have you sent anyone asking after her
today? Have you, yourself gone?”

“No, My Lady.”

“Has she called for a meal? For her wine?”

The guard faltered.

“...No, My Lady.”

Areiel’s grip on her cane tightened as she took a step closer to the guard she had, in mere
moments, filled with enough self-doubt to last a week. They stood eye to eye, now. He nearly
looked away.

“Why did she ask you to turn away her visitors today, Ashra?”

The use of his first name only struck more desire to be obedient into him, but if he’d been about
to cave, his superior’s sudden approach from down the hall in the direction of Lireesa’s room
saved him.

Areiel’s attention shifted sharply to the approaching knight.

“Are you here for Lireesa, Captain?” The woman asked, only sparing a passing glance in her
compatriot’s direction.

“I am. Have you just been to check on her?” Areiel asked, more at ease now that she was
operating in a way that harkened more to her past. To a time when she felt more useful. “I would
have gone myself, but your lad is making my life quite difficult.”

“Kelantir, I-”

“Address me by my name again, Ashra,” Kelantir snapped sharply. “Of all people to keep from
the Queen on this or any other day, Areiel is not the one.”

Her attention was back on Areiel, then.

“Forgive him, please. He’s only just begun his first shifts on Lireesa’s wing and I’ve only just
finished my first rounds.”

“Even so, he should have called upon her or called for someone else knowing she hasn’t taken a
meal or drink all day,” Areiel countered, not yet ready to back down.

It was Kelantir who faltered, in all her lythe, regal grace. It was Kelantir who turned a rather
piercing gaze in Ashra’s direction. He looked ready to melt into the floor.

“Not even her wine, Ashra?” Kelantir asked, her voice suddenly quiet and slightly agitated.
“No, Captain.”

“She would’ve been out this morning. No later than this afternoon,” Kelantir said as her hand
naturally shifted to rest upon the sword pommel at her hip.

Areiel swallowed thickly and time slowed for a moment as she looked away from Kelantir and
down the hall in the direction of Lireesa’s room.

They fell into step together - leaving Ashra in their wake, confused and visibly worried.

He was scrambling to catch up to them, and somehow, Areiel beat them both to Lireesa’s door.

The wards placed upon it lashed out at her on her approach, but they were weak. No more than a
slight charge of static crackling over her skin as she passed through them.

She’d have passed through much, much worse than this.

They lashed out at her again as her fist first met the door, and Kelantir finished reciting the
incantation to hold them at bay so they might gain entry into Lireesa’s chambers more safely.

“Lireesa!” Areiel barked the name when her second, more forceful round of knocks garnered no
answer. “Lireesa! Gods be damned, I…”

Her eyes were wild when she looked over at Kelantir. “Your keys, Captain. Now.”

It was a demand.

An order.

A plea.

The most familiar of all the glinting keys on Kelantir’s ring caught Areiel’s attention and she
grabbed it from the guard’s hand quickly. Her own was surprisingly steady as she pushed the key
home and used it to turn the tumbler - activating a mechanism that withdrew a series of bars
hidden within the ornately carved door. One painfully slow ‘clunk’ at a time before Areiel threw
the door open and took a single step inside.

A single step was enough. Enough for her eyes to fall upon Lireesa’s motionless form. Enough
for the acrid smell of dark magic - both Lireesa’s and Dar’Khan’s - to burn its way into her
nostrils.

And flesh.

Burnt flesh.

Aeriel’s cane clattered to the floor as she threw any and all concern for her own safety to the
wind.

“Find Liadrin! Sylvanas!” She shouted without looking behind herself. “Bring the healers,
Kelantir! Now!”
If Kelantir listened, Areiel wasn’t sure. If Ashra, her young charge, had been moved into action,
Areiel couldn’t have known.

She was on her knees turning Lireesa onto her back - putting her own coat beneath the queen’s
head after she’d ripped it more than once pulling it off of herself so quickly and carelessly.

She could’ve cursed herself for panicking. She couldn’t listen for breaths over the pounding of
her pulse in her own years. In a swift motion, she slipped a dagger from her belt and held it
beneath Lireesa’s nostrils.

Steam appeared in two tragically tiny puffs against its mirror-polish, and Areiel could have
sobbed in relief. It was something.

She was breathing.

That was something.

Her eyes scanned over Lireesa quickly. They took in the ash and shards that were left of her
scrying stone. They took in the blisters that covered her palm and the lighter burns along her
wrist. She couldn’t even begin to guess what had happened. She’d never seen Lireesa have so
little control over her own magic that she’d burned her own clothing, and yet the sleeve of her
dress was burnt halfway up her forearm.

“Lireesa,” Areiel gasped as she reached to press a hand against her cheek to find it woefully cool
and clammy. “Lireesa, please.”

But Lireesa didn’t answer. She didn’t move. Not even a twitch. And Areiel’s hands finally began
to tremble as she ran one of them over Lireesa’s hair and reached for her burned hand with the
other. She examined it so carefully. It was the worst on her fingertips. But it wasn’t the worst
injury she’d seen Lireesa have by a long shot.

That realization in and of itself was enough for Areiel to calm her own breathing once again and
focus her attention on the raucous sound of multiple sets of feet thundering up the corridor to
Lireesa’s room.

First Liadrin, looking so exhausted it caught Areiel off guard even as focused on her queen as
she was. Then a set of healers that usually tended to the royal family. Sylvanas, though, hung in
the doorway - looking in at the rather frantic moves everyone was making to get Lireesa out of
the floor and onto her sofa.

All her life, Jaina had been adept at making herself small. Small in the presence of those
members of her mother’s court she didn’t want to draw attention from. Small in council
meetings so that the various lords and ladies of her kingdom wouldn’t realize just how much she
heard. Just how much she understood.

And very, very small now - as she ran her hand along the back of Sylvanas’s arm.

Liadrin’s shouts were still ringing in her ears. Shouts to have Dar’Khan located immediately.
Shouts for more healers. Shouts for the kingdom’s few remaining, rather powerless magisters.
But it was all for naught.

Dar’Khan was gone.

Lireesa wouldn’t wake.

And Sylvanas felt like a bowstring ready to snap as she stood in silence to one side of the room
while Areiel paced and Liadrin scribbled out various orders and coded messages at a desk
through the opened double doors that led to Lireesa’s study. She felt to Jaina like she was a
second away from snapping, and yet she stood there like a statue. Stoic and unmoving.

It was a long time before anyone had any answers, and Jaina made herself even smaller as one of
the magisters approached her wife.

“My Lady,” the magister greeted - sounding as exhausted as he looked. “She will pull through.
We think.”

“You think?” Sylvanas asked, and there was an almost dangerous edge to her voice. An edge of
the authority she feared she might have to claim sooner than she’d ever hoped to. “Explain.”

He cleared his throat and looked back at Lireesa for a moment - frail and almost lifeless with her
hands crossed over her stomach, one of them now wrapped carefully in salve-soaked bandages.

“The attack was magical in nature, but the burn was of her own doing. That isn’t what has us so
confounded. She seems to have retreated into her own mind. We’ve no idea why, or how great
the damage is. Her physical stability is...adequate. The rest, we simply don’t know.”

“With all due respect, Magister, that simply isn’t good enough,” Sylvanas responded evenly.
“Not one of you leaves this room until my mother opens her eyes or until you can tell me when
she will.”

“I can.”

Jaina’s voice reminded them all quite suddenly of her presence.

She wasn’t all that small now, as she moved forward to stand next to Sylvanas instead of behind
her and to her side.

Sylvanas looked at her in surprise. Despite the comfort she’d been providing all this time,
Sylvanas’s entire world had closed in around the pinprick of focus that was her mother.

The magister looked even more surprised as his eyes landed on her, and even Areiel stopped
pacing as her ears twitched in her effort to hear better from across the room.

“I can see, if you will let me. I’ve ventured into her mind before. I can do it again, now.”

“That can’t be possible,” the magister responded with furrowed brows. He looked back to
Sylvanas for help. For clarity. “Can it?”

“My wife has more in common with my mother than I do, in areas such as these,” Sylvanas said
quietly, almost as though she were ashamed she’d forgotten. “What she says is true. It hadn’t
occurred to me she might be able to tell us anything.”

Jaina gave Sylvanas’s arm a gentle squeeze when she looked at her apologetically.

Even now, in her state of near-mental collapse, Sylvanas was concerned with having possibly
wronged her. Jaina’s heart ached all the more for it.

“I’ll find something,” Jaina whispered to her. She knew the magister could hear her, but she
couldn’t make herself care. “I promise you.”

“This isn’t your responsibility, Jaina,” Sylvanas said gently. “But if you could try, I...I just-”

“I’ll do more than try,” Jaina responded firmly, lifting a hand to touch Sylvanas’s cheek briefly
before she pulled away and approached the sofa where Lireesa lay.

All at once, even as she knelt on the floor, she was the biggest thing in the room. Areiel had
edged closer to watch, her ears pinned back and her pain etched into the lines in her face that
were suddenly much more visible than usual. The magisters were nearby, waiting for a chance to
be useful just as the healers were.

And Liadrin was standing, now, in the doorway of the study - looking first at Sylvanas, then at
Lireesa’s still form.

Jaina felt oddly calm as she reached out to take Lireesa’s unbandaged hand into her own. She
didn’t need the contact, but she figured it couldn’t hurt. The only person that could’ve guided
her through this was...well. Lireesa.

“I’m sorry I can’t ask your permission,” she whispered, just in case Lireesa could hear her. “I’ll
ask forgiveness when we talk.”

Jaina went quiet and took a few slow, steady breaths. Sylvanas’s nerves were so frayed she had
to look away. Her eyes were inevitably drawn to Areiel, who was much closer than she had been
before.

“She’s going to be okay, Sylvanas,” Areiel said quietly, reaching out to squeeze Sylvanas’s arm
gently. But the pain and worry in her eyes were so telling. Of so many things. Sylvanas didn’t
feel entitled to the comfort of the only woman in this room that might be feeling more broken
than her. But she nodded and accepted it, because it seemed Areiel needed that right then.

The next time she had the courage to look at her wife, Jaina’s eyes were closed and her breathing
was so soft and slow she might have thought she’d fallen asleep if she didn’t know better.

She was as lost to them, now, as her mother was.

And it was terrifying.

Lireesa felt her own whimper escape her throat before she heard it. The pain was unimaginable.
The darkness that surrounded her, impenetrable. Like an endless sea of inky suffering.

She drifted endlessly. Hours. Days. Years.

She couldn’t be sure.

She drifted until-

“My Wild One.”

Warmth.

Warmth that reminded her she was freezing.

“You must wake.”

“I cannot.”

Lireesa’s response was airy and hollow. It floated along the surface of blackness she drifted
upon and echoed as though in a chamber.

“It isn’t time.”

The voice was closer now.

Warmer.

Warmer.

“I’ve nothing left,” Lireesa heard her own argument. She wasn’t even sure she’d spoken it
aloud.

“You have no choice. You’ve much yet left to do.”

“Let me stay with you,” Lireesa pleaded in a whisper. “Please let me stay. Let me rest.”

A feeling of sadness washed over Lireesa then that was not her own. Deep, aching sadness
almost as deep as the love it was wrapped within.

“You feel how much I would like to keep you here,” the voice continued, “How much I wish to
hide you away from the world and its evils. But I cannot do that, my Wild One. My beloved.
There are others waiting for you back where you belong, and their love for you rivals mine.
Their need for you is...even greater. And one has come to fetch you. You must go with her.”

The voice wasn’t just warm, now.

“You must.”

It was burning.

“You are hurting me,” Lireesa gasped, her bandaged hand trembling as the heat that had been
threatening to engulf her in her entirety slowly faded to center where it existed in the reality she
was waking to.
“No,” Jaina breathed as her head sagged and she nearly slumped against the side of the couch.
“No, you were burned. You are fine, now. You will be fine.”

Lireesa’s eyes opened rather suddenly when she recognized Jaina’s voice. She looked around the
room as her lungs filled with more air than they’d taken in in hours and hours with each deep,
heaving breath she took.

Everyone was scared to breathe the first sigh of relief.

Everyone was scared to so much as move until Lireesa, again, spoke.

“Dar’Khan.”

Just as Jaina got a little too dizzy for her own liking, Sylvanas reached for her and helped her to
her feet to hold her closer.

And in her spot fell Areiel.

“We’ll find him,” Areiel said as she reached towards her and carefully combed Lireesa’s hair
from her face. “We will. I promise you. But we need to get you better. I need...we need to be
sure you’re okay before anything else happens.”

Lireesa’s lips parted as she let out a tremor of a breath when her eyes locked onto Areiel’s. She
felt the callouses of Areiel’s palms against her skin. The gentle warmth of her fingertips as they
trailed carefully across her brow.

All of this softness was shattered quite suddenly by Liadrin’s commanding voice from the other
side of the room.

“Magisters, half of you to the Sunwell. Look for traces of Dar’Khan’s magic. Half of you with
the Rangers that are soon to be tracking him. That leaves one to join Valeera in searching the
traitor’s rooms. Use what power you have left to help them find and track his residue. Sylvanas,
the guest room is made up. Take Jaina there so she might rest. So you both might rest. Healers,
you may sleep in the study tonight. I’ve already made up the cushions for you. You might be
needed to redress that burn until it’s well enough healed.”

Even those that might have been offended at Liadrin’s sudden boldness were, instead, quite
thankful for it. Thankful for something - for anything - to do.

Areiel was still on her knees when the last person had filed out of the room, and Liadrin looked
first at her, then at Lireesa.

And then she was gone again to the desk she’d been sending out orders from for the better part
of the evening.

“Liadrin and Valeera are both…” Lireesa found that speaking was still more difficult.

“Alive and well. Or...they will be well once all is said and done,” Areiel’s voice was as gentle
and calm as she could manage.
“I was told to come back, you know,” Lireesa said. “I didn’t want to, Areiel.” Her voice was
barely a whisper, now.

“I need you here with me,” Areiel responded, unaware of the tears that were now slipping down
her cheeks. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” Lireesa said without hesitation. “Not if I can help it. Not again. I will be as much use
to you as I can while I’m here. To all of you.”

Areiel’s tongue felt too thick in her mouth, suddenly. Thick with all the things she felt and
couldn’t say. It was almost painful.

“You’re crying, Areiel,” Lireesa observed even as Areiel’s hand slipped further into her hair and
she shifted closer to the edge of the sofa. “Come here.”

Areiel was in no shape to argue. She was in no shape to question. She bowed over Lireesa and
found Lireesa’s hand sliding around her back and up until it was cradling the back of her head.
Holding her against her chest where she’d dared press her face to hide her tears.

“I am so sorry, Areiel,” Lireesa whispered into her hair - and she couldn’t help but breathe in the
long-forgotten and now remembered scent of it. “For all these years. For all of it. I am so very,
very sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Areiel gasped against her chest as Lireesa’s hand pressed harder against the
back of her head to keep her even closer than she already was. “And I’ll forgive you forever and
a day if you but stay.”

Perhaps it was the forgiveness. Perhaps it was the promise of forever. Perhaps it was the warm
wetness of Areiel’s tears falling against her chest. Lireesa simply wasn’t sure anymore.

She wasn’t sure of anything other than how excruciating it was to feel so regrettably alive. So
tragically present.

But she could lift Areiel’s chin.

She could brush the bridge of her nose across the other woman’s. She could cradle her face as
she pressed her lips to the corner of her mouth.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and Areiel pressed her forehead against Lireesa’s as she touched
over her bandaged hand too lightly to be felt and then allowed her hand to come to rest against
the center of Lireesa’s chest.

Is that all she’d needed all this time? Forgiveness?

Areiel didn’t believe that for a moment. Nor could she even begin to surmise what had happened
while Lireesa hadn’t been with them.

“You should rest,” Areiel urged as she pulled away and wiped her face quickly - avoiding the
place Lireesa’s lips had been. “And when you wake, we can begin to unravel this.”
“Dar’Khan must be stopped,” Lireesa argued weakly, but Areiel shook her head as she took
Lireesa’s good hand into her own and lifted it to her lips to press them against her knuckles.

“I will stop him myself if need be, Lireesa. It will be my arrow through his heart if it means
you’ll allow yourself a moment to breathe.”

“If I’m not to leave you, then you are not to leave me. There are others more suited to this fight,
Areiel. If you will promise me that you won’t act rashly, I will promise to do my best to stay.”

Areiel looked again into Lireesa’s eyes, then. The coldness of them seemed thawed by
exhaustion. Perhaps more. Areiel couldn’t be sure.

“I promise.”

“Then I’ll rest.”

Areiel sighed with relief and forced away the sob that almost came along with it. There wasn’t
any time for that, now. She was re-arranging pillows and unfolding a blanket to spread across
Lireesa’s lap, and Lireesa’s sharp eyes were on her all the while even when she was settled.
Even when she was toying with the glinting golden link that held the sleeve of Areiel’s cuff
closed.

“You kissed me.”

Areiel said the words without meaning to. Of all the things she could’ve said - with all the things
that were tumbling down around them - ‘you kissed me’ were the words she was cursing herself
for.

And yet, Lireesa exhaled an almost-laugh through her nose and her lips quirked into an almost-
smile.

“It must be the cane.”

Areiel looked up at her in surprise, and Lireesa slipped her hand from Areiel’s cuff to twine their
fingers together and pull her closer.

Areiel was still kneeling in stunned silence when Lireesa whispered close to her ear.

“I will rest once you’ve checked on your daughter.”

Daugther.

The word, though whispered, was deafening. Forbidden. A truth long shrouded by necessity and
loyalty.

Because they’d tried, after all. They’d tried, once. And it had nearly torn Lireesa asunder.

And so, some things were best left forgotten.

Areiel had told herself that for so very, very long.

Every time she saw her own smile reflected back at her in the kindness of Sylvanas’s face.
Every time she heard the warmth of her own voice in Sylvanas’s laugher.

She had told herself every time that it was best this way for all of them. And she had been lying.

“My daughter?” Areiel asked as she lifted her head and looked into Lireesa’s eyes with tears
glossing her own.

“I would not ask forgiveness with no intention of righting my wrongs, Areiel,” Lireesa
responded in a murmur. “I’m afraid many of them will have to wait. Allow me this one.”

“Okay,” Areiel whispered, looking around to check that no one had heard them more than once
before Lireesa finally reached to touch the side of her face to stop her.

“While you are with her, tell Jaina I would thank her in person once we are both coherent
enough, again, for such things. In the morning, perhaps. Before all hell breaks loose.”

“I will,” Areiel said, and she found herself as thankful for being given a task as the rest had who
had left earlier at Liadrin’s bidding.

“And then come back to me,” Lireesa continued with an earnestness in her voice that was so
unfamiliar to Areiel as to be almost forgotten, entirely. “Won’t you?”

“Always,” Areiel whispered, and when she was sure Lireesa wouldn’t remove her hand just yet,
she turned her head to press a kiss to her palm before she stood rather quickly, all things
considered, and reached for her cane so she could make her way to the guest bedroom to Jaina
and Sylvanas.

“You did so well,” Sylvanas whispered as she pressed her body along Jaina’s side and wrapped
the sheets around them carefully. “I can never thank you enough. Not in a hundred years. Not in
a hundred more.”

“I don’t need you to thank me,” Jaina groaned as she pressed her hand over her own eyes and
prayed for the tea she’d been given to work quickly. “I need you to write a law disallowing
headaches from existing in this kingdom.”

“I can’t write laws,” Sylvanas responded regretfully. “But if I could, I would have all headaches
executed on sight. Just for you.”

Jaina laughed rather weakly and opened her eyes just enough to look at her wife as she slowly
turned to face her. She couldn’t get close enough, suddenly. ‘Enough’ wasn’t even in her
vocabulary, anymore. “My hero.”

“Am I?” Sylvanas asked. “I hope to still be that in the morning when you wake and realize
headaches still exist in Quel’Thalas.”

“Mm, we’ll see. I’m going to rest. I have the distinct feeling tomorrow is going to be rather
eventful.”

“I would rather you stay in our rooms for the duration of whatever hellstorm is about to land
squarely upon our heads, Jaina,” Sylvanas said, not because she believed Jaina would agree to it,
but because she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t at least try.

“You know I’m not going to do any such thing,” Jaina chided gently, and Sylvanas leaned in to
press a soft kiss to her lips.

“You can’t blame me for trying.”

“Do you two need anything?” Areiel asked from the open doorway, though she’d nearly faltered
and retreated when she realized how intimate the moment was. But Lireesa had made a request,
and there was little Areiel could do but oblige.

But then, she hadn’t realized just how different it might feel to have Sylvanas offering her a
grateful smile from her place at Jaina’s side. How it would send a lance of pain or perhaps
longing straight into the dead center of her chest.

“We’re fine, Areiel,” Sylvanas offered. “Thank you. You’ve been wonderful. Are you staying
with Mother?”

“I am,” Areiel said, and she adjusted her grip on her cane as she quickly looked at Jaina, instead.
“She sends her gratitude, by the way, Lady Jaina. She would speak with you when you both
wake tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Jaina said as she smiled at Areiel over her shoulder and then turned back to face
Sylvanas when Areiel nodded.

She looked at them both one more time before she turned to leave. At Jaina, the brave young
woman who had saved Lireesa and, incidentally, what was left of Areiel’s heart.

And at Sylvanas.

At her daughter.

She shut the door on her way out, and found Lireesa still awake and waiting for her on the sofa.
But she didn’t have to wait much longer. There were few places Areiel would rather be other
than by her side.
 Winter: Will

I felt my soul pulled in every direction

What once was whole has chosen defection
I felt the chaos and came with her the hail
Hail, hail creation, long live your volition
Will we go on like we deserve a pardon
As we walk out of the garden?

“You’re so tense,” Jaina’s voice was a gentle murmur. Gentle in all the ways her hands were
currently not as they worked down to another group of knots in her wife’s back she’d discovered
earlier.

Sylvanas let out a soft groan as she leaned over where she sat - legs hanging off the edge of the
bed with Jaina kneeling behind her.

“We don’t have time for this,” she hissed when Jaina pressed her thumbs into a particularly sore
spot just beneath the blade of her shoulder. “As full as I am of appreciation and adoration for
you.”

“We have time tonight,” Jaina argued, brushing Sylvanas’s hair over the front of one of her
shoulders and leaning in to kiss the nape of her neck. “There isn’t anything to be done tonight
that can’t or shouldn’t be done in the morning. This would be a lot easier if you would lie down
for me, by the way.”

Sylvanas knew deep down that Jaina was right. They’d been searching for weeks, now, and
some of the rangers hadn’t slept more than a few short hours at a time. Most of them, actually.
That was one of the reasons Liadrin had ordered a halt for the night and a full regroup in the
morning. They were making careless mistakes, and it was becoming quite apparent a little rest
would do them all a world of good.

“I’ll lay down, then,” Sylvanas sighed, though instead of obliging Jaina right away, she turned
and sat on the bed in front of her with her legs folded.

“What are you doing?” Jaina asked with a wrinkle between her brows as she watched the way
the firelight from their hearth danced across Sylvanas’s features.

“Looking at my wife,” Sylvanas offered with a soft smile.

Jaina had come to accept that the women of Sylvanas’s family were quite good at looking
beautiful and tragic all at once to varying degrees.

“Have you not had your fill of seeing me lately?” Jaina asked, reaching for both of Sylvanas’s
hands and taking them into her own. “We spend every waking hour together.”

“Looking for a traitor isn’t my idea of romance,” Sylvanas offered with a soft smile. “I feel like
we haven’t had a moment of rest since our vacation. I suppose I should be thankful for that, at
least. Our vacation.”

Jaina returned her wife’s smile and reached out to stroke her cheek. Her skin looked so soft in
the warm light, and it was like silk beneath her fingertips just like her hair was when she slid
them into it. Sylvanas was still watching her closely as she leaned in and pressed their lips
together in a kiss that was so much softer than the days had been of late.

Sylvanas’s eyes fell shut as she got lost in it immediately. It’d been so long, it seemed, since
they’d done this. Since she’d felt this level of intimacy. And she felt guilty immediately.

“Lie down for me,” Jaina murmured against her lips as her hand slipped from Sylvanas’s hair so
she could trace a line down her throat until she was unbuttoning her shirt. She made quick work
of it, and by the time Sylvanas had begun to oblige her, Jaina was leaning over to toss the shirt
into the armchair next to their bed. Jaina was still moving to straddle Sylvanas’s legs when she
spoke again.

“You aren’t required to feel thankful, you know,” she said softly once Sylvanas settled with her
head on her arms. Jaina was already finding the sore spots again, and having an easier time with
it now that there was no barrier between her hands and Sylvanas’s skin. “Punishing yourself
isn’t going to solve any mysteries any faster.”

“It’s only that Mother is still recovering, Valeera looks like she hasn’t slept in a decade, and
Dar’Khan is...well. We’re no closer to finding him now than we were that first night.”

“And will you obeying orders and taking a single night to recover hurt our chances at solving
any of that?” Jaina asked as she pressed her thumbs into Sylvanas’s lower back along her spine.
“Or do you think perhaps tomorrow you’ll wake with a clearer head and be twice as useful as
you were today?”

Sylvanas sighed and allowed Jaina to finish the place she was working on before she turned onto
her back beneath her and reached for both her wrists - catching them gently in her hands.

“What did I do to deserve you?” She asked before she brought both Jaina’s hands to her lips in
turn to kiss over her knuckles.

“Nothing,” Jaina responded with a quiet laugh. “Fortunately, I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“Have you?” Sylvanas asked as Jaina slipped her arms further through her hold on them and
cradled both sides of her head as she leaned over her to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Many times,” Jaina murmured against Sylvanas’s temple. “Every day, I think.”

Sylvanas slipped her arms around Jaina’s back then to pull her down against her just in time for
Jaina to continue speaking - now in a soft murmur against her jaw just beneath her ear.

“It’s all going to turn out alright.”

“Promise?” Sylvanas asked in a whisper as her fingertips toyed with the hem of Jaina’s shirt
against her lower back.

“I promise,” Jaina said without hesitation. “Take it off.”

“Are you sure?” Sylvanas asked even as her fingertips brushed against Jaina’s bare skin.

“I’m going to go mad if you don’t take my mind off all this for at least a little while,” Jaina
sighed against her wife’s bare shoulder. “I’m more than sure.”

“At times it feels like you are the wise one and I am the fumbling fawn when it should be the
other way around,” Sylvanas murmured as Jaina kissed further down her chest to nuzzle a smile
against the space between her breasts.

“Only sometimes?” Jaina asked with a curl of her lips that Sylvanas could both hear in her tone
and feel against her skin.

“You wound me, Jaina,” Sylvanas lamented with a frown as she propped her head up on one of
her hands to look down at Jaina to make sure Jaina saw just how ‘wounded’ she appeared to be.

“My sincerest apologies,” Jaina laughed quietly, and she toyed with the laces on Sylvanas’s
breeches as her smile slowly faded into an expression that was a touch more serious. “I’m only
joking, you know. You’re more wise than you think. I think...our experiences and our wisdom
just happen to be slightly different. And I think those differences are complimentary.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Sylvanas said earnestly, reaching to tuck some of Jaina’s hair away
behind her ear even as Jaina began unlacing her pants. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Where?” Jaina asked as Sylvanas lifted her hips to help Jaina get her out of her pants. “In your
life, or between your legs?”
“Mm, both,” Sylvanas sighed as her head fell back into the pillows the moment Jaina nuzzled
between her thighs and began to spread them with the gentle warmth of her hands. “The between
my legs bit is particularly pleasant at the moment.”

“Have you missed me?” Jaina asked in a murmur against the soft, short-shorn hair above
Sylvanas’s clit in a voice so low it made Sylvanas shiver.

“Very much, yes,” Sylvanas admitted as she arched her hips up, seeking more direct attention.

As much as Jaina was trying to be attractive, she also appreciated hearing that. It was good to
know one was wanted for something so...normal, in the middle of all this that was going on. All
these things that were as far from normal as a thing could possibly be.

Jaina had learned so much about Sylvanas in their time together. So much about her body and
what to do with it and how to please her. She’d learned that Sylvanas had many moods in the
bedroom, and this mood that she was in tonight was a rare treat. She didn’t want to be teased or
toyed with. She didn’t want this drawn out with pleasantries and flirtations. She was as desperate
for distraction as Jaina was, and that was just fine. That was perfect. Because again, it was so
nice to be needed.

It was so nice to hear Sylvanas moan her name as she pressed her fingers into her. Two of them,
first to the hilt, and then curling upwards slowly as she began brushing across her wife’s clit
with her slightly parted lips so that her warm breaths would touch Sylvanas even as she, herself
did.

“Like that,” Sylvanas whispered breathlessly when Jaina finally began lapping at her clit with
her tongue. She needn’t have said it at all, but there were times she just had to speak. To say
something so that Jaina would know how good she was. As though Sylvanas’s cat-like arching
from the bed and the steely firmness of her flexed thighs and stomach weren’t enough.

And then she was gasping Jaina’s name and Jaina was wrapping her free arm around her thigh to
hold her still as she got closer and closer and more and more sensitive to the point where Jaina
had to keep her close just to keep her mouth on her.

Sylvanas, though, wasn’t quite ready. She tugged gently at Jaina’s hair and Jaina looked up at
her as best she could without stopping what she was doing.

“Come with me,” Sylvanas gasped, and there was something akin to desperation in her eyes. It
wasn’t something Jaina could really ignore, so when Sylvanas shifted one of her legs, Jaina
straddled it and began using her own weight as leverage to rock herself down against it.

Jaina had never tried to come like this. She hadn’t even thought it would be enough for her, but
only a moment or two in, she realized just how wrong she was. She’d missed this, too. She’d
missed the simplicity of it. She’d missed the confidence she felt when Sylvanas gasped her name
and shuddered beneath her.

“Please,” Sylvanas whispered, slipping her hand from Jaina’s hair to her chest to stroke over her
breast and toy with her nipple despite how her hand was trembling. “Please. I don’t want to
come without you.”
“I’m close,” Jaina whispered, her voice muffled against Sylvanas’s body. “I sw...swear…”

Jaina had only just gotten those words out when she jerked against her wife’s leg and spilled
over the edge. She hadn’t even been expecting it, and, in a desperate scramble to make sure
Sylvanas wasn’t far behind her - she pressed a third finger into her and sped her movements so
they were deep and hard as the first throes of her own orgasm began crashing in waves over her
body.

She needn’t have worried, though. Sylvanas was clinging to her and dragging her down closer to
herself as her hips bucked up into Jaina’s hand and, in turn, her thigh worked up even harder
between Jaina’s thighs, only serving to stretch Jaina’s own orgasm out along with her own.

There were nights they could’ve gone on forever like this. And then, there was tonight.

Tonight seemed so different, suddenly, as Jaina became aware enough of her surroundings again
to realize Sylvanas’s arms were wrapped more tightly around her than they might usually have
been.

“Are you okay?” Jaina asked in a breathless whisper, and Sylvanas nodded faintly.

“I just...I just want to be with you,” Sylvanas murmured, rolling them both onto their sides and
tangling their limbs together as she caught Jaina’s eyes with her own. “Is that alright?”

“Of course,” Jaina said with what she hoped was a reassuring tone to match her reassuring
smile. She reached for her wife’s hair then and began threading her fingers through it slowly. “Is
something on your mind?”

Sylvanas shook her head at first, but Jaina had come to learn a lot about her wife’s mannerisms,
too. She knew that this didn’t necessarily mean Sylvanas wasn’t going to explain herself. More
often than not, it just meant Sylvanas was attempting to gather her thoughts enough to convey
them properly. It was sweet. It was one of the countless things Jaina had come to love so much
about her.

They didn’t move from each other’s arms after that. Jaina needed this far too much. They both
needed this far too much.

They barely managed a soft series of confessions of devotion before they were both drifting off
only barely tangled in their silk sheets.

Sylvanas felt the aching chill in her very bones mere hours later. That was the first thing she was
aware of in the hint of dawn that was leaking into their bedroom. The hurt.

The next thing she became aware of was how the air stung each time it made its way past her
nostrils.

Odd how she noticed so many things without realizing how violently she was shivering. Hard
enough that Jaina had begun to wake despite how the sudden change in temperature didn’t seem
to register for her.

“Sylvanas,” She murmured, her voice groggy as she reached for the blanket they rarely used and
pulled it up around the both of them. “It’s alright. Shh, shh. Let me warm you.”
“I’m cold,” Sylvanas whispered as she gripped tightly at Jaina’s hands when they reached for
her. She sounded so panicked even as she began to sit up in bed.

“Yes, but we’ve got plenty of blankets and I’m right…”

Jaina’s eyes finally opened when she heard Sylvanas gasp once and then stop breathing.

She could still see the condensation from the exhale just as clearly as Sylvanas could.

But Sylvanas wasn’t looking solely at her own breath. She was looking at the gilded, colorful
windows beyond that had been left just as open as they usually were to let in the mild breeze
through the night.

Jaina’s eyes followed the build-up of snow along the ledges. An inch or more, and still falling
outside.

It took Jaina another moment or two to spring into action. To use her plentiful magic stores to
close all the windows and have a fire blazing in their hearth within moments.

“It’s okay,” Jaina said urgently as she wrapped herself quickly in a robe and set about the task of
finding something at least marginally warm for her wife to put on. “It’s all going to be alright.”

“No,” Sylvanas whispered, still trembling within the nest of blankets Jaina had wrapped her in.
“Not this time.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Jaina whispered urgently, not entirely sure why she was whispering at all.
“Sylvanas, please don’t talk like that.”

There was something in the slight tremor of Jaina’s tone that suddenly dragged Sylvanas’s
attention away from the now-shut windows to the wet tracks of falling tears painting Jaina’s
cold-flushed face.

“You’re crying,” Sylvanas whispered, and the realization caused her to spring into action much
like Jaina had for her. She helped Jaina on with one of the robes she’d collected and brought to
the bed after layering her undergarments. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry, Jaina. Just don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying for me,” Jaina explained as she tried her best to help Sylvanas in helping her.
“Let me help you. You aren’t used to this. I am.”

Sylvanas only nodded her agreement because she didn’t know what else to do. She wasn’t even
certain where Jaina had gotten the fur-lined cloak from until she realized the colors of it were
distinctly Kul Tiran. The colors of Jaina’s kingdom. The rest, though, belonged to Sylvanas. For
once, the overabundance of fine cloth used in crafting her wardrobe came in handy. Still, though,
she was glad for the nearly unbearable heft of Jaina’s cloak as she found it wrapped around her
shoulders.

“No place for your ears, I’m afraid,” Jaina murmured with a crease between her brows as she
stroked through her wife’s hair for lack of anything better to do in that moment.

“Don’t worry over my ears. We’re just going to go to the courtyard to see what there is to see.
And you? Are you wearing enough?”
“More than enough,” Jaina sighed before she leaned reached for the back of Sylvanas’s arm to
give it a gentle squeeze beneath her cloak. “I’m used to this. Let’s go if we are going. I have a
feeling the courtyard isn’t going to stay empty for long.”

Lireesa could almost hear the flakes falling. Slowly. Gently. Suspended, almost, in their descent.
They fell like cinders.

They met with the thick blanket of white covering the courtyard both silently and deafeningly.
They clung to the stark black of Lireesa’s hair and stayed there as she surveyed the sight of the
Court of the Sun frozen and lifeless. The leaves were falling from the trees, the only shock of
color left, now - losing their fight against the bitter chill of winter for the very first time. She was
unmoving for a time. As still as the silence that had fallen over all those who had gathered. For
guidance. For protection.

Their fear was thick in the air.

Lireesa was nearly choking on it.

Sylvanas felt drawn to her mother, and Jaina wouldn’t have left her wife’s side for anything in
the world right then, so she followed along with her across the courtyard to where Lireesa was
standing.

If she’d looked out of place here in this kingdom of warmth and color before, she looked….she
looked as though she were made for it now. Her skin as pale as the snow that surrounded them.
Her hair as stark and black as the fur that billowed around her from the collar of the cloak she
was wearing. An old piece of clothing Sylvanas didn’t even recognize.

She reminded Sylvanas more of the beast that had given her the scars on her back along the
northern border than of her mother. A wolf watching over her pack ready to pounce at the
nearest sign of a threat when only days ago she’d been close to bed-ridden.

“Mother,” Sylvanas whispered, and Lireesa slowly looked over at her as if drawn from a spell.

It was only then that Sylvanas noticed Areiel at her mother’s side - one hand on her cane and the
other on Lireesa’s back. Supporting her, perhaps, however discreetly.

“My adored subjects, as you are all aware-,” Lireesa began without greeting her daughter, but
offering her a soft smile before she turned to address the gathering of nobles and palace servants
alike. “-until recently, there was a traitor in our midst. He has been rooted out. In his wake, it
seems, he has left a bit of a mess. Have no doubt we will, soon enough, tie off any loose ends
that have been left in his wake. In the meantime, many of you will be experiencing your first
winter. Look to those older than you for help in what to do. How to keep your fires properly
stoked. How to cook more heartily. There is firewood aplenty in our kitchens to be distributed
and before that runs out, our rangers will replenish our stores.”

Some of the panic mellowed. Even Jaina could sense that much as she looked around at the
gathering.

“In the meantime, we have quite the boon on our hands in our Lady Jaina. I’m sure she’d love to
teach all the children present the usefulness of a nice snowball fight to warm the blood. And
perhaps some of their parents, too.”

“I...why, yes. Yes, of course,” Jaina offered with a smile that she turned on a few rather hopeful-
looking, youthful faces. Faces that were equally as pleased to learn a new game as they were to
have the attention of Jaina. Their parents, too, were relieved. Whether they believed Lireesa or
just…wanted to be relieved, that was another story.

Jaina was already walking towards a gathering throng of children when Lireesa turned back to
look at her daughter.

“We’ll need a ranger unit to every outlying village. Deploy Liadrin’s forces as well if need be.
The outliers won't last longer than a week without aid. Areiel, let the captains know to await
Sylvanas’s orders so they aren’t caught unawares once they’re drawn up.”

“Right away, My Lady,” Areiel said as she looked from Lireesa to Sylvanas, who looked as
though she was trying terribly hard not to be lost and scared for the benefit of all those gathered.
“Sylvanas-”

“Lireesa!”

Liadrin’s voice interrupted Areiel in a hushed, urgent hiss as she slid through the snow towards
the three of them still huddled together. Her eyes were wide. Wide enough that it was quite
lucky Jaina had enough parlor tricks up her sleeve involving ice to hold almost everyone’s
attention on the other side of the courtyard. It was utterly unlike her to address Lireesa so
casually in such a setting. Sylvanas and Areiel’s hackles were raised immediately. Lireesa only
looked strangely calm.

“Yes, Liadrin?”

“It’s the Sunwell,” Liadrin gasped, the word trembling past her lips. “It’s...please come at once.”

Lireesa smiled faintly and nodded.

“Yes, of course, Liadrin. I’ll join you in the chamber momentarily.”

Liadrin looked as though she wasn’t sure if she should be reassured by Lireesa’s behavior or
terrified. She went with reassured and backed away a few steps before turning to make her way
with a little more grace back to the palace’s inner chambers.

“Areiel, pass my orders along as I’ve asked. Sylvanas, see to it the captains have all the supplies
they’ll need for their journeys while Jaina babysits my court for me like the goddess come to life
that she is.”

“Of course, Mother,” Sylvanas agreed immediately. That was something she could do.
Something she was good at. She excused herself and left Areiel standing, unmoving in front of
Lireesa.

For a moment, Areiel just watched the delicate little structures of snow fall into Lireesa’s hair
and into the fine fur lining of her cloak. She’d forgotten what it looked like. What it felt like.
“You never did belong in the sun, did you?” Areiel asked quietly, because she knew whatever
was happening in the chamber beneath the palace couldn’t be good. She knew the way Lireesa
was acting couldn’t be good. Best not to address all that now.

“Perhaps not,” Lireesa said, and she sounded like she was attempting to soothe a child with a
scuffed knee. “Would you join me in the chamber once you’ve alerted the captains of Sylvanas’s
impending orders?” Lireesa paused, but only for a moment. “I wish to be alone there with you.”

Areiel swallowed thickly as she slowly lowered her hand from Lireesa’s back. “Yes, My Lady.”

Areiel pulled her cloak around her shoulders more tightly as she walked past the last room she
would see before she found the stairwell that spiraled down into the well chamber. This room,
too, had a hearth being lit by its inhabitants.

Funny how so many had thought Lireesa silly for having her palace built in such a way. Full of
fireplaces in the middle of perpetual warmth. The epicenter of neverending spring and summer.

And now, the halls were cold and grey. The light that came in through the colored windows was
still somehow strangely pallid. The only warmth was in the rooms, themselves. The countless
rooms being tended to by servants who were more than thankful to have been assigned the task
of lighting fires.

Areiel’s cane echoed ever downward as she began descending the stairs towards the Sunwell. It
grew ever colder with each step she took. She could see her breath before she could ever see the
chamber itself, and even the mage lights that lit her path seemed pitifully dim.

Her task had taken her long enough that she heard no voices when the stairwell opened up into
the vast grandeur of the chamber. No doubt an intentional move on Lireesa’s part. She had
expressed her earnestness to be alone by now, after all.

The sight Areiel was met with was both unsurprising and devastating. Expected and gut-
wrenching.

The dim light of the Sunwell illuminated Lireesa’s face as she sat on the very edge of it and
looked down through its frozen surface. Even the light itself seemed cool.

The only warmth in the entire room came from Lireesa herself when she finally looked up at
Areiel and smiled.

“Sit with me,” Lireesa said, and Areiel looked around first as she continued battling the shock
that was still running its course through her system.

No guards.

“Of course,” Areiel whispered breathlessly, and her grip on her cane was white-knuckled and
fierce as she approached. It was even more terrifying up close. Where once there had been a
grand pillar of light, there was now just a refracted glow. Broken and strange as the magic
beneath the well’s icy surface lurched around sluggishly and left traces of cool light across the
floors and the walls.
Areiel moved to Lireesa’s side and lowered herself next to her slowly. She was surprised to find
Lireesa’s hand seeking her own before she could even manage to set her cane aside.

“Strange,” Lireesa whispered as she twined their fingers together. “It was taking so very much of
me for so long. Now that it’s nearly gone, I feel…”

“You’re scaring me,” Areiel whispered when Lireesa trailed off. “Lireesa, tell me what this is.”

“There are no ley lines left,” Lireesa explained simply as she gestured towards the well.
“They’ve all been siphoned. Wherever Dar’Khan has gone, he is still busy. Or perhaps it is
someone else aiding him. In any event, I can’t possibly hope to offset such a loss with my own
reserves.”

“So you’ve...you’ve stopped,” Areiel surmised. “And the well?”

“It’s dying,” Lireesa explained with a soft exhale as she lifted her eyes from its frozen surface to
meet Areiel’s gaze, finding it almost as pained as it was accusatory.

Areiel reached instinctively for Lireesa’s face when she realized there were tears slipping down
her cheeks. She wiped at them with trembling fingertips as she shook her head.

“Areiel, this is necessary,” Lireesa urged gently. “If I’m to be of any real help in finding him and
reversing any of this at all, I have to stop supplementing it. I have to cut it all at the root if we’re
to grow again.”

“And if we don’t find him in time, Lireesa?” Areiel demanded as she held Lireesa’s face in her
hands almost too tightly. “What of your promise to stay?”

“We will find him,” Lireesa said as she lifted her hands to Areiel’s wrists. “I’ve a feeling...I’ve a
feeling I’m not meant to pass in this way. I’ve a feeling whatever or whoever it is that’s
orchestrated all this wants more than that.”

Areiel was inclined to believe her. After so long, it didn’t seem, to Areiel, like Lireesa would
choose this moment to lie. Not to her. She leaned in until their foreheads were pressed together,
and Lireesa allowed her to stay there. Not only allowed her, but rested her hands over Areiel’s
broad, angular shoulders to keep her close.

“Are you cold?” Areiel asked in a whisper. “How do you feel?”

“I’m not cold,” Lireesa murmured as she lowered one of her hands to Areiel’s construct - feeling
the chill of the metal through her breeches. “You’re going to need this before long, I fear.”

“Lireesa, don’t-”

Areiel didn’t even manage to get out her full request before she was suddenly overwhelmingly
aware of the presence of Lireesa’s touch against her thigh, construct or no.

“None of that,” Lireesa whispered, brushing her thumb across Areiel’s breeches slowly. “Allow
me this much. How is it?”
“Fine,” Areiel said, reaching for Lireesa’s hand rather quickly to pull it away from herself and
hold it in her own. “I’d forgotten how it was to be able to feel it.”

“As soon as I’ve received word from the last unit that all our people are sufficiently aided, we’ll
redouble our efforts.”

“Our efforts were already inadequate,” Areiel responded. “What will be different now, Lireesa?
Tell me how to keep you safe from this before I go mad.”

“I am different now,” Lireesa responded simply as she slowly leaned back and began to stand.
Areiel had been all too ready to help her up, but she found that even though her construct was no
fully functional again, Lireesa was on her feet before she had the chance.

Areiel felt almost gangly standing next to her with a cane she no longer needed. If Lireesa was
graceful before, she seemed almost ethereal now, to Areiel. Like something out of a dream,
almost.

“How are you different?” Areiel asked finally as Lireesa began walking towards the stairs and
Areiel fell into step beside her.

“I feel alive for the first time in...oh. Centuries,” Lireesa admitted as they took the stairs almost
in unison.

“It’s a shame you’re dying,” Areiel said aloud without even meaning to.

“We’ll stop this, Areiel,” Lireesa said without hesitating. “I’ll stop this.”

“And what will I do?” Areiel asked immediately.

“Try to remember how to be dashing without your cane, I suppose,” Lireesa jabbed, and Areiel
nearly laughed. In fact, she might have were the situation not so dire.

Were the very Sunwell itself not frozen over.

 Run Baby Run

Look, can you see behind these eyes

Can you see what isn't there
The truth dressed up in lies

So wait, keep your heart inside

My hands won't keep it safe
I'll just feed on dreams, and smile as hope slowly dies

Ooh
Daylight's dying
Run, baby, run, baby run
Ooh
Full moon rising
Run, baby, run, baby run

“I really wish you’d just...not,” Sylvanas murmured as Jaina bundled her up in her cloak more
securely and looked her over.
“You’re the one worried about me when you can scarcely spend more than an hour outside
without turning into an ice sculpture. I know you wish we could be together, but Valeera needs
my magic, and Alleria needs yours, however scant it is. You can still sense him. She can’t.”

“I know, I know,” Sylvanas sighed, but Jaina didn’t really feel as though she’d won anything.
Not when the frigid air of the courtyard was whipping pinpricks of snow into the skin of her
cheeks and reddening her wife’s already-sensitive ears past any semblance of comfort. “Just be
safe.”

“I’ll be safe as long as you come back to me in one piece so that I can thaw you properly,” Jaina
said with a little smile that might not have been appropriate for the gravity of the situation but
had Sylvanas smiling faintly in return, nonetheless.

“Alright,” Sylvanas agreed. “But only so that you may thaw me.”

“That’ll be enough of that,” Alleria drawled as she checked the string of her bow once more
before sliding it onto her back against her quiver on her approach. Her fur-lined boots made soft
sounds in the snow as she walked, but only because she allowed it. Jaina had never met someone
so light on her feet as Sylvanas’s eldest sister. “Before you two melt all the snow in the kingdom
and we have to deal with floods instead of cold snaps.”

“‘Cold snaps’,” Valeera grumbled as she finally stepped into the little circle they were forming
to stand at Jaina’s side. “You call this a cold snap?”

“You haven’t seen snow, Valeera, until you’ve been-”

“Ancient like you?” Valeera asked with a quirk of her brow in a direct challenge to Alleria, who
was in no mood to take her up on it.

“No more ancient than that woman of yours,” Alleria said under her breath so that only their
small gathering would hear, and none of the other search parties currently planning their routes
for the morning.

“I think we’ve had enough talking for one morning, yes?” Jaina offered with an all-too-pleasant
smile. “Weren’t Verana and Thyala going to join us this morning?”

“I had heard something of the sort,” Came Verana’s voice from behind them, and Jaina turned
with a start only to realize both rangers had been standing at a distance listening to them in
amusement. “It’s best we get going, yes? The sky is clear. We may not have to combat any fresh
snowfall today if we’re lucky. If we remain as unlucky as we have been, though, we should take
advantage of this while it lasts.”

“Right as always, Verana,” Alleria sighed and gave her younger sister’s shoulder a nudge. “Lead
the way, then, General.”

Sylvanas only managed a single step before she turned to look behind herself at the second team
they were splitting off into. Really, there weren’t many people she’d rather have with her wife
than Valeera and Thyala. Aside from herself which, while obvious, wasn’t really all that helpful.
They were presenting a face more than anything. Putting their eagerness to get to the bottom of
what had befallen their kingdom on full display for their people. This was necessary.
“She’ll be in good hands, General,” Thyala said, and Alleria reached out to her sister again, this
time resting a hand on her shoulder instead of nudging it.

“Thyala is the best fighter I have, and you trust your own mother’s life to Valeera on a daily
basis. I think Jaina will be just fine,” Alleria said before she leaned in to continue voicing her
thoughts in a whisper only audible to Sylvanas. “And you are undermining her terribly even
while your intentions are good.”

Sylvanas hadn’t even considered that before now, but Alleria was right. The front they needed to
present needed to be many things. United, strong, and above all; sure.

“Right. We’ll meet back in the courtyard at dusk, then,” Sylvanas said, and all the worry had
slipped from her voice to be replaced by the confident and commanding tone she could so easily
affect when the need arose. So like her mother.

Her mother, who was upstairs holed away with Liadrin and Areiel trying to work magic she
couldn’t spare. Trying to figure out a puzzle they had far too few pieces to ever hope to assemble
just yet.

Best they get going, then.

“You need to rest,” Liadrin scolded, her voice slightly raspy with the cold she’d earned herself
recently. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a cold. When she was young, perhaps.
But they had teas and herbs to treat her aplenty. If she could just work past her own stubbornness
long enough to take advantage of that fact.

“You’re one to talk,” Lireesa countered. “Or ‘try to talk’, more like.”

Areiel snorted in amusement and shook her head as she pulled another map of the countryside
closer to herself to examine the layout of a nearby village more carefully.

“Not you, too,” Liadrin complained with a heavy sigh. “I don’t need you riding me, too. I’m
fine.”

“Your constitution has become tragically delicate and there’s no shame in admitting it,” Areiel
said, far too nonchalantly for Liadrin’s liking.

“Areiel, please,” Liadrin snapped, and Areiel finally looked over at her with a furrow between
her brows when she realized the irritation in her tone was absolutely genuine. “I’m...please.
Please just let me work. I have far too much on my mind to worry about your constant jabs right
now.”

Areiel frowned and placed her map aside so she could focus a bit better on Liadrin as realization
washed over her like a tide.

“Something is wrong.”

“Of course, something is wrong,” Liadrin continued rather emphatically. “The Sunwell is frozen,
Areiel. The Sunwell is frozen, Lireesa is...is mortal, and Valeera is…”
Liadrin trailed off as the lump that had been forming in the back of her throat for hours, now,
made itself known with more insistence.

“What, Liadrin?” Lireesa asked, her attention suddenly piqued despite her exhaustion. “Valeera
is what?”

“I just have a bad feeling, My Lady,” Liadrin said softly, flopping down in the nearest chair as
she clenched her jaw and looked across the room at both Areiel and their queen. “I can’t shake
it.”

Lireesa sat up a little straighter in her chair and this drew Areiel’s attention immediately. If
Lireesa took something serious, you’d be hard-pressed to find Areiel not doing the same.

“I’ll make an adjustment to my scrying, then. Is it really as vague as all that? The feeling?”

Liadrin looked rather helpless as she looked down at Lireesa’s desk and the scrolls she’d been
studying. “I’m afraid it is. I know it’s about the search parties. Of course, I’m concerned about
Valeera. I always am when she goes out. But not like this. Never like this. And she’s been out
dozens of times.”

“Sylvanas, then?” Areiel suggested to them both as she carried a chair over to the desk so she
could sit near them. She had one for Liadrin in her other hand, and Liadrin took a seat in it with
so little care she nearly missed the edge of it. “They were grouped apart, Sylvanas and Valeera.
Valeera is with Jaina and Thyala and Sylvanas is with Alleria and Verana.”

“Perhaps,” Liadrin sighed, slumping back in her chair. “It’s as good a place as any to start.” She
wouldn’t let her feelings interfere with her duties. She refused. Especially now.

Lireesa reached for a scrying stone that was still lying nearby on her desk and drew it so that it
was resting in front of herself. She wasted no time in getting to work.

“Sylvanas bared her fangs as they crested a hill and were met with a blistering blast of cold air
and snow that hit her face like tiny daggers and nearly knocked her from her feet. Had Alleria
not been right behind her with a hand on her shoulder, she might have fallen. As it was, nearly
all the air in her lungs had been stolen.”

“I’ve got you,” Alleria shouted into her ear. “Verana is scouting ahead for a place for us to
weather the storm. It should pass quickly. It seems...it seems abnormal.”

“Of course it’s abnormal, Alleria,” Sylvanas said above the roar of snow and wind. “It’s fucking
snowing.”

Alleria set her jaw and guided her sister further along the trail they’d been following that had
long been covered in snow. Alleria remembered it nonetheless, and Verana was quick and light
enough to walk along the snow without breaking it. She had every faith her lover would return
before long and guide them towards some small measure of comfort and safety.

Alleria would let her sister believe whatever she needed to believe to keep her composure.
Alleria hadn’t meant this weather was abnormal for Quel’Thalas. She’d meant, of course, that
this snow was abnormal for snow. It shouldn’t have hurt like it did. It shouldn’t have blinded
like it did. It’d come out of nowhere with no cloud cover whatsoever. If it was magic, though, it
was a spell far too broad and far-reaching for either of them to sense. Best not have her sister
panic in the middle of a mage storm.

Even as young and strong as Sylvanas was, she just wasn’t used to this life any longer if she
ever even had been. One of her shins was bleeding into the leather of her breeches, now, from
where it had broken through a rather angry crust of snow Alleria hadn’t yet reached. Her thighs
were burning. Her lungs were scarcely functioning.

“Come here!” Alleria shouted to her as their cloaks whipped around them. Sylvanas was
standing with her body pressed to her sisters by the time she could finally see that she was
holding a skin of water. It was warm. Likely pressed against her body some time, now, for this
very reason. “Drink it all.” The words came out against Sylvanas’s ear as Alleria wrapped them
both in her cloak and then looked out across the clearing they’d entered that’d once been a
meadow.

She could’ve died of relief when she saw a speck of darkness against the snow in the distance
that could only be Verana.

“Just a few more moments,” Alleria reassured her sister.

“Jaina,” Sylvanas gasped as her last sip of water dribbled over her lips and began to freeze along
her chin. Her eyes were wide with sudden realization as she looked up at her sister beseechingly.
“Jaina is-”

Lireesa came back to herself with a soft breath as her scrying stone crackled with frost in the
palm of her hand. Her eyes went immediately to Liadrin, who had watched the scene play out in
the polished black surface she’d been staring at unblinkingly for the better part of an hour.
They’d all been strangely lost in it. Strangely captivated to the point of uselessness.

“Majesty!” The sound of a guard calling out from down the hall had them all forcing themselves
to their feet. The sound of scuffling footsteps had them moving towards the door. “Lady
Liadrin!”

Liadrin was running across the room, then, and even still, she was beaten through the door.

Valeera tumbled through it with a trail of guards still on her heels. Guards who finally reached
for her in an effort to help her now that she’d reached her destination and was still.

“Don’t touch me!”

The words were shrill and panicked and full of pain and fear and no small amount of mistrust.
She was pale from the cold and loss of blood. Her hair was stained with blood much like the rest
of her tattered clothing. Liadrin couldn’t even count the wounds. It was difficult enough not to
collapse under the weight of grief, much less properly assess the situation.

“Back away from her,” Lireesa commended, and it was her that moved forward. It was her that
lowered herself to her knees as Valeera began sagging to the floor. Finally, it was her that drew
Valeera close and spoke to her. “You’re safe now child. We’ll fetch the healers. Where is
Thyala?”
“Dead.” The word came with a shudder and Lireesa slid an arm around Valeera’s back only to
come into contact with something jagged and hard beneath her cloak. An arrow shaft, Lireesa
realized, as the wet heat of blood met her fingers even through fur-lined wool.

“And Jaina?”

Valeera let out a shuddering breath as she allowed herself a modicum of comfort and no more
before she was reaching into her boot and producing a folded piece of parchment. “I’m sorry.”

Lireesa was torn. Torn between reading what was on the parchment and finding someone to pass
Valeera to. Valeera, who was trying her best to bleed to death on her floor. Valeera, whose eyes
were finally seeking out Liadrin now that her task was complete. Now that her duty was
performed.

“Can I have her?” Liadrin asked as she swallowed past the thick lump in her throat.

But even before Lireesa could answer, Valeera was reaching for her as tears began slipping
down her cheeks.

“She’s been shot, Liadrin,” Lireesa whispered as she passed her over. “Be careful with her.”

And Liadrin was careful, of course. She’d only just made it to Lireesa’s sofa with Valeera in her
arms when she remembered they were supposed to have summoned healers. Healers Liadrin
worried would do little good now judging by the far-away look in Valeera’s eyes. Especially
considering they were little more than glorified medics since the siphoning of the Sunwell had
begun.

“Lireesa,” Liadrin whispered as she stood there.

“It’s okay,” Valeera breathed, turning her head to press her face against Liadrin’s chest so she
could at least have the familiarity of her scent. “It’s okay, Liadrin.”

Liadrin’s tears were hot and angry as she tilted her head down to press a kiss to Valeera’s hair.

“I hope you remember your spells, Liadrin,” Lireesa said, and Liadrin wasn’t even sure how
she’d gotten so close. Yet, there she was. Right behind her. Looking at Valeera over her shoulder.

“What do you mean?” Liadrin asked without looking away from Valeera for a single moment.

And then, Lireesa’s hand came to rest on her shoulder and magic flooded her. Power unlike
anything she’d known in decades upon decades. Even as the warmth of it spread through her,
Liadrin allowed it to pass right into Valeera by way of the spell she’d begun to murmur against
the pallid skin of her temple.

“If you ever pull an arrow out of me again,” Valeera complained weakly from where she was
laying on the sofa. “Be sure you knock me out entirely first.”

“I will do no such thing,” Liadrin whispered as she looked down at the younger woman and
stroked a hand along her cheek as comfortingly as she could considering her own tears were
falling onto Valeera’s blanket.
“You look stupid,” Valeera observed with a slight narrowing of her eyes despite the fact that
she’d been on death’s door only a few moments prior.

“I love you.”

Valeera’s eyes opened a little wider and the faint aches and pains still working their way out of
her body fell further into the recesses of her mind as she tried to lift herself onto an elbow only
to find Liadrin stopping her with a faint shake of her head.

“Don’t get up,” Liadrin warned as she wiped quickly at her own face. “Rest. You’ve done so
much. You’ve done so well.”

“I’ve done nothing,” Valeera argued quietly, though she relented and laid back down beneath
Liadrin’s hand. “But I love you, too, Liadrin. In case you weren’t sure.”

Their confessions were a far-away murmur to Lireesa and Areiel, who had retreated to the
practice room once they were certain Valeera would pull through.

Lireesa’s hands trembled as she held the folded, waxed parchment in them. It smelled foul.
Dark. She was no stranger to darkness in magic.

“Let me open it,” Areiel offered in a whisper from where she stood behind the chair Lireesa sat
in. “At least that much.”

“It isn’t meant for you,” Lireesa whispered in return. “It would do no good.”

“I can read, Lireesa. Please.”

Lireesa unfolded the parchment on the surface of her desk slowly - revealing to Areiel that she’d
been correct. There wasn’t a single word. Valeera’s anguish was so fresh and so powerful that
Lireesa could feel it beneath her fingertips as she traced the tattered edges of the thick paper.

“Jaina!” Valeera’s scream was dampened in the nothingness that had blanketed them so
suddenly she was no longer sure which way was up. She shouted again.

Another volley of arrows fell - zipping through the haze of snow and entering into the mounds of
it silently. The arrows had sounded different when they’d turned Thyala into a pincushion.
They’d sounded solid and wet and terrible.

“Jaina!” Valeera called out again when she was sure she saw a flash of yellow-blond hair. Hair
that she reached out for, only to find her wrist gripped so tightly it nearly snapped by a force she
couldn’t see at all.

Another volley.

She screamed as an arrow entered her shoulder just along the edge of the blade bone. The
scream was cut off when she was lifted by the very same arm. The pain was too profound to be
expressed in such a way, now. Too all-consuming.

The blinding white became dark, suddenly, and there were only two pinpricks of light in the
blackness. Eyes. And then tusks. And then a slow sneer of a smile. The shadows felt...familiar
against her skin as they enveloped her. Not unlike those that she’d been plagued by in her
nightmares.

“Where is she?” Valeera spat as her legs dangled uselessly beneath her. “Where is the human
mage?”

“That is for us to know,” the voice began, but the mouth didn’t move. The eyes didn’t blink.
“And you to find out, little elf.”

Valeera yelped as the presence released her suddenly. It must have been at least ten feet tall
judging by how far she fell. How hard her body hit the crust of ice before she broke through. She
doubled over and sputtered against it before she felt a pressure against her back pushing her
further and further until she couldn’t breathe without inhaling melting snow. She gasped one last
time to keep from drowning in it, and the voice returned. It laughed deep and loud and
boisterous. Cocky. Sure. Powerful.

“Ahahah...run quick, now, to your queen. Your Queen of thieves on her throne of lies. You give
her this. You tell her...it’s from an old friend.”

Lireesa’s lips parted as she became aware of Areiel’s hand still resting against her shoulder.
Time felt as though it had slowed to a stop.

Slowly - so, so slowly - she flattened the blank parchment against the desk and splayed her hand
out above it.

“Lireesa w-”

Areiel’s plea cut out along with all the other sounds of the room as the very fabric of reality fell
into the pit of Lireesa’s stomach. She was nothing. She was everything. Until she was no longer
alone.

“I got something you want, I think,” the voice that had joined her consciousness said.

“We do not fear you, Zul’jin,” Lireesa said into the inky black. “Just as I sealed you away once,
so shall I again. Along with your traitor pet.”

“Then you best be planning a trip to this pretty little girl’s homeland to break the news to her
mama,” the voice responded cooly. Entirely unaffected. “She won’t be walkin’ back.”

Lireesa was silently thoughtful for a moment. The nothingness, she realized, was now full of
whispers. Whispers that grew louder and louder until they became a crescendo of Jaina’s voice
calling out in confusion. Despair. Lireesa couldn’t make out the words.

“What do you want?” Lireesa demanded suddenly. Sharply. “In exchange for the girl’s safe
return. What do you want.”

The voice laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Until Lireesa was sure she would go mad. Until
her ears were ringing and her head was spinning.

And then, all at once, it stopped.

“You.”
 The Girl and the Wyvern

Alleria clenched her jaw hard as she reached out for her sister’s arm and held it tight to keep her
from leaving the warmth of the fire Verana had built for them.

“Let me go,” Sylvanas snapped despite how terribly her limbs ached and how violently her teeth
chattered. “We need to reach Jaina and the others.”

“We will not reach them dead.” Alleria spat rather sharply before Sylvanas brushed her hand
away from her arm and turned to face her.

“Since when do you have the right to question me, Alleria?” Sylvanas asked as she drew her
cloak more tightly around herself. Verana was all but forgotten as she tended the little flames
that danced in the stone inlet she’d found for them to weather the surprise blizzard in. “You
forfeit that the moment you decided you would rather play treehouse in the woods than rule over
a kingdom. I bear the burden of that weight, and I will pull rank on you if need be.”

“Pull rank on me all you like,” Alleria responded, sounding unusually calm considering how
antagonistic her sister was being. “If I have to knock you atop the head to get you home, I will,
and I will deal with the consequences after. But that is where we are going. Home. Not traipsing
through fresh snow dunes looking for a trail none of us will ever find. Besides, they’ve probably
beaten us back to the palace, and what will Jaina do if you don’t show up? You’ll only be putting
her and whoever goes with her to look for you in even more danger than they’re already possibly
in.”

Sylvanas felt the wind rush from her sails and she held Alleria’s gaze for a while longer in
defiance before looking away. Alleria was just about to reach for her again, albeit more gently
this time, when Sylvanas stepped away and sank to the ground beside the fire.

“She means well,” Verana said quietly as Alleria hung back to keep watching for a break in the
strange storm they’d nearly gotten lost in. “And whether or not she delivers her message with as
much tact as she could, I believe she is right.”

Sylvanas nodded numbly and Verana gestured towards her wounded leg. “Let me see that.”

If she were feeling even a touch more petulant, Sylvanas might’ve ignored the veteran ranger’s
request. As it was, she was in pain and she was exhausted and she knew she’d never make it
back home with her leg the way it was.

Verana tsk’d softly and reached into a little pouch on her belt to pull out a roll of clean cloth
meant for bandaging. She didn’t dare remove Sylvanas’s boots and expose her feet to the cold.
Rather, she wrapped the gauze around her breeches and tied it off tightly while Sylvanas
watched stoically despite the deep sting of the cut.

“Is it alright?” Alleria asked from closer than Sylvanas had realized. She hadn’t even heard her
sister’s approach.

“It will be,” Verana sighed, patting Sylvanas’s shoulder and producing what was left of their
food stores. One and a quarter fruit bars.

“Give Sylvanas mine,” Alleria said softly as she took a seat in front of the fire on the other side
of her sister at Verana’s side. Verana didn’t argue. She did exactly as Alleria had asked, because
she knew Alleria too well to question her. If Alleria thought she couldn’t go without the
nourishment she wouldn’t have made the sacrifice at all.

“Thank you,” Sylvanas whispered, thankful, too, that her hands had stopped shaking enough that
she could lift the sickly sweet bar to her lips. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Alleria said as she held her palm up to the flames and watched the stone walls
of the inlet dance with the warm light of the fire. “I understand.”

Sylvanas’s eyes flashed to Verana and she remembered the woman had been injured not long
ago. She nodded her understanding and continued eating.

“As soon as you’re done we might have to consider pushing-”

“Alleria,” Verana interrupted her, her eyes wide as she stared out the mouth of the inlet.

Alleria looked over quickly and realized the winds that had been howling when she’d begun
speaking were now eerily silent. There was no snowfall. No sound at all aside from the crackling
of their fire.
“This seems strange,” Sylvanas whispered, keeping herself low to the ground out of sheer
instinct.

“It is,” Alleria affirmed, pushing herself up from the ground and reaching for Sylvanas’s hand to
help her up. “We need to count this as a blessing that it may or may not be and move. Quickly.”

“Lireesa…” Areiel whispered the queen’s name from where she’d knelt down beside her. There
was very real, very poignant fear in the urgency of her tone. Fear that caused a furrow between
Lireesa’s brows just as her eyes began to flutter open. A tear slipped down her cheek as she met
Areiel’s gaze with her own and offered her a rather weak smile of reassurance.

Areiel sniffled and returned the smile as she reached for Lireesa’s hand to cling to it much like
she was clinging to what little hope she had left that they would come out of all this in any way
unscathed. “Where did you go?”

Lireesa shook her head as she reached up to cradle Areiel’s face in her hand. “I’m here. I’ve
gone nowhere.”

“You know what I mean.”

Lireesa’s smile faltered and she looked over at the blank parchment slowly only to find it had
turned to a pile of ash on the top of the desk.

“Lireesa, please,” Areiel urged, catching Lireesa’s hand in her own as it fell from her face and
squeezing it gently. “Where is Jaina? What just happened?”

“Jaina is in Zul’Aman, I’d imagine,” Lireesa said simply. “With Zul’jin, who is awaiting my
surrender.”

“He can wait for an eternity, then,” Areiel scoffed in disbelief, but Lireesa wouldn’t look at her.
Wouldn’t tease along with her at the sheer audacity of such a request. “Can’t he?”

“No,” Lireesa sighed. “No, I don’t think so. We need to make sure we get Sylvanas and the
others home safe. We need to check on Valeera, and-”

“No, you need to explain,” Areiel responded, and the desperation in her voice made the anger of
it hurt even more. “Lireesa, look at me.”

Lireesa finally paused for a moment - at a loss, seemingly. She turned her head, but her gaze
stayed lowered - focusing somewhere around Areiel’s shoulder.

Areiel lifted herself further onto her knees and reached for the sides of Lireesa’s face to give her
no choice but to comply, and the grey light of her eyes danced with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Liadrin said from the doorway, and when they both looked over, Liadrin
was clutching the arched door frame as she looked in at them. “The perimeter guards report one
of the search parties has been spotted returning over the ridge.”
Lireesa let out a shuddering breath in response to this news. Her daughters then, at least, were
safe.

“Thank you, Liadrin,” Lireesa responded as she stood from her chair - slipping away from
Areiel’s anguish because she couldn’t bear it right then. Not yet. “And Valeera?”

“She’s just fine,” Liadrin responded with a half-smile. “Forgive me, but...I couldn’t help but
hear. Zul’jin? Truly?”

“I’m afraid so,” Lireesa said sadly as Areiel stood slowly behind her and moved to walk past
them both to check on Valeera, herself. Perhaps just to get away from Lireesa for the moment.
Lireesa couldn’t blame her. “Don’t fear, Liadrin. All of this will be over soon. He’s only made it
so that I can finish what I should’ve finished a lifetime ago.”

Liadrin looked at Lireesa for a moment or two before shutting the door behind herself so Areiel
and Valeera wouldn't hear them. Lireesa watched her approach silently and nodded when Liadrin
gestured to the chair opposite hers at her desk.

“You seem…” Liadrin trailed off and cleared her throat as she looked past Lireesa rather than at
her. “You seem at peace.”

“I am,” Lireesa responded with a tired smile. “It's time I end this, Liadrin.”

“Let me help you,” Liadrin argued gently. “You aren't the only one who is tired, you know.”

“You will stay and help my daughter as you have helped me, Liadrin,” Lireesa countered,
though her tone was almost coaxing rather than forceful. “Your spirit is younger than you
believe it to be. You love Valeera desperately. I see it. Would you walk away from that so
easily?”

“I'm not the only one who is in love,” Liadrin responded, her voice thick with emotion as she
caught Lireesa’s gaze. “If that's the qualifier.”

Lireesa paused, then, and looked right back into Liadrin’s eyes for a moment before her gaze fell
to the table.

“You should be with Valeera when she wakes. Take her to the guest bedroom,” Lireesa
whispered. “I have much to consider, and Sylvanas will be here soon, no doubt wanting answers
as to what’s happened. I'll tell her about Jaina, myself. Let it be known.”

Liadrin stayed put for a moment, perhaps hoping Lireesa might open back up to her. She knew
better, of course, and after a few more moments of silence passed between them, she stood and
left the room.

Far too little time passed between that moment and the sound of commotion in the outermost
rooms of her quarters. Commotion that was loud enough for Lireesa to stand and make her way
into the front parlor where Sylvanas was puffing her chest at Liadrin with as much vigor as she
could muster in her bleeding, exhausted state all while Alleria looked on silently.

Liadrin, noticing the shift of attention of the guards who had escorted Alleria and Sylvanas,
breathed a sigh of relief when everyone fell suddenly silent at Lireesa’s presence.
“Alleria, Liadrin will brief you on our situation. Areiel, will you send for dinner for everyone
present? Dismiss the guards on this wing, as well. Sylvanas, my darling, take a breath and come
sit with me. Please.”

Sylvanas looked like all the wind had been rather violently ripped from her sails as her ears sank
a bit. The guards slipped away silently, all too happy to be rid of the problem of an angry future
monarch bleeding all over their queen’s carpet all while yelling at their commander.

Lireesa reached out a hand as her daughter approached, and she placed it on Sylvanas’s shoulder
to guide her back into her study and into the little sitting room beyond.

“Please tell me what's going on,” Sylvanas said even before they'd had a chance to get situated
on the couch. “What happened out there? Did you see? Did you feel it?”

“I saw,” Lireesa sighed as she pulled both of her daughter's hands into her lap and held them
firmly. “Jaina was taken to Zul’Aman. Valeera was wounded in the fray. Thyala was killed.”

Sylvanas shook her head immediately.

“No,” She breathed as she blinked hard at the tears in her own eyes to try and hold them at bay.
“No, that's-”

“We will get her back, Sylvanas,” Lireesa said firmly. “Don't think for a moment that we won't.”

“When?” Sylvanas demanded, moving to stand only to find Lireesa pulling her back down onto
the sofa with a surprising amount of strength. “When do we march?”

“Soon,” Lireesa lied. “And in the meantime, you will be seen to by the healers and you will eat
and rest. Do you understand, Sylvanas? You are no good to us hurt and hungry.”

“Soon isn't soon enough,” Sylvanas whispered urgently as she wrapped one of her hands around
Lireesa’s wrist. “Please. I can't lose her. You don't understand.”

“But I do,” Lireesa said with a very faint smile as she lifted one of her hands to stroke over her
daughter's cheek. “I understand completely. They won't hurt her. They won't dare.”

“How can you be so sure?” Sylvanas asked with her brows furrowed as a tear finally slipped free
and burned a path down her still-cold cheek.

“I need you to trust me, Sylvanas. Just this once even if never again.”

Sylvanas swallowed a sob and shook her head before it fell and her shoulders shook once before
she clenched her jaw so hard it hurt.

“It's okay to cry,” Lireesa cooed in a near-whisper as she carefully pulled Sylvanas against her
chest and wrapped her arms around her. “It's only you and I here.”

Sylvanas, overwhelmed with pain and heartache and exhaustion, buried her face against her
mother’s shoulder, wetting her priceless dress with hot, angry tears for a while before a knock on
the door disturbed their silence.
The door opened and Areiel stepped in holding a tray, but she paused upon seeing them the way
that they were.

“Thank you, Areiel,” Lireesa said with a soft smile as she stroked along Sylvanas’s back. “I'll
join the rest of you as soon as I convince this one to eat and rest.”

“You don’t need to convince me,” Sylvanas said quietly, and Areiel approached carefully with
the tray to sit it down on the low table in front of the sofa. She paused where she stood and
reached out to rest her hand against Sylvanas’s shoulder and Sylvanas lifted her head to look at
Areiel.

“Don’t fret,” Areiel said gently, and she moved her hand from Sylvanas’s shoulder to support
her chin, instead. “We won’t let anything happen to Jaina. Or you. We’ll get her back, Sylvanas.
You have to trust in that much at least.”

Sylvanas nodded faintly and Areiel swallowed thickly as she looked into Sylvanas’s eyes for a
moment longer and then glanced at Lireesa quickly before she turned and left the room. Lireesa
had no choice but to let her. Her focus now was her daughter.

Her daughter who, in the end, ate her dinner as promised and even allowed Lireesa to help her
lay down on the sofa.

“What are you doing?” Sylvanas asked as Lireesa knelt beside the sofa and lifted the throw
blanket covering her daughter carefully.

“Tending to your leg,” Lireesa said. “It was bleeding when you arrived.”

“You can send the healers,” Sylvanas said, and Lireesa’s brow furrowed as she carefully
examined the series of cuts along her daughter’s shin and then reached for an already-open dish
of something on the end table.

“I would tend to my own daughter today,” Lireesa responded, still largely focused on Sylvanas’s
leg because...well. Times of stress sometimes brought out the strangest feelings. The strangest
memories.

Like knees scraped from climbing trees and very first heartbreaks. Things mothers fixed. Things
mothers were expected to fix. Things mothers hadn’t fixed in far too long.

Sylvanas watched her silently until the moment Lireesa’s delicate hands finally tied off the thin
bandage she’d used to wrap her wound.

“You’re acting strange,” Sylvanas whispered, then. Lireesa shook her head.

“These are strange times, child,” Lireesa dismissed as she stood and leaned over the couch to
press a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Rest.”

Sylvanas was so stunned by her mother’s behavior she didn’t argue. She might not even if she’d
had the energy to.
Jaina reached carefully for the tray of food that had been placed in front of her. She could
scarcely see it even now, it was so dark in Zul’jin’s chambers where she’d been since the prior
day. Water dripped slowly from the cracks in the ancient stone almost in counterpoint to the
troll’s slow breathing where he sat staring into the surface of a bowl of water.

“That’s right,” He said languidly without even looking over at her. “You eat up, now. Get your
strength back for your journey.”

“No kingdom in its right mind would surrender a Queen for the consort of her daughter,” Jaina
said, and Zul’jin chuckled. A long, low, slow sound that filled the room with anything but
warmth.

“Not everyone operates in the way you are accustomed to, little mage,” Zul’kin sneered, finally
flashing his eyes up at her. “Their queen is fading and you are not. You would also do well to
stop underestimating her misplaced pride.”

Jaina tore a bite of meat off one of the bones on her plate. Ribs, she was fairly sure. All the
while, she steadily watched her captor.

“Why not just kill me?” She asked after a while as she pushed her half-finished plate of food
away from herself across the fur rug she was sitting on. “If you are so certain they’ll send her,
why not just kill me? Two birds with one stone and all that.”

“If you plan on questioning me you can spend the rest of your time here in a cell. And it’ll be
much colder and much darker there than it is here.”

Jaina clenched her jaw and looked away from him to stare, instead, at the floor.

“That’s better,” Zul’jin said, finally abandoning his bowl to make his way across the room
towards a shelf of books that had all seen better days. Even as brave as Jaina was, she still
shrank away slightly from the sheer size of him. Even one-eyed and one-armed, his physical
presence wasn’t something to take lightly.

She didn’t speak again until he’d retrieved a book that was on its last legs and dropped into a
pile of cushions just beneath one of the very few torches she’d seen in this place.

“What purpose will having her here serve?” Jaina asked, being a bit more careful with her tone
this time. “If she’s so weak, it hardly makes sense-”

“Do you think I care what makes sense to you?” Zul’jin cut her off with his eyes narrowed and
his tusks bared even more than usual as he sneered at Jaina, who couldn’t have left her spot on
that fur rug if she’d wanted to. Not unless Zul’jin lifted the wards that had been placed on her.
Wards she’d been poking and prodding at every time she got the chance. “She owes me and my
people more than her weight in flesh.”

Jaina swallowed thickly as he relaxed back into his cushions from where he’d very visibly
bristled in response to her further prodding.

“But,” He said as he turned another page of his book. “I’ll start with an eye. And an arm.”
Jaina clenched her jaw and looked down at the way her own hands were trembling before she
twined her fingers and drew her knees up to her chest. Again, she went about her work of
exploring the extents of her ward. Finding any weaknesses, however slight. The mere thought of
something atrocious happening to Lireesa was almost too much for her to bear. Especially when
it would all be for her. Because of her. Because of how inept she’d been in that mage storm.

“Don’t you cry, now,” Zul’jin cooed from across the room, and Jaina winced at his patronizing
tone. “You’ll be back in little wifey’s arms soon.”

“Forgive me if I don’t trust what you say,” Jaina said, and though her words were scathing, her
voice was quiet.

Zul’jin only laughed again.

“I like your spirit, little one,” he said with a sigh as he turned another page in his book. “I might
be careful if I were you. I’m starting to consider keeping you.”

“And risk war with a kingdom empowered and emboldened by the anger brought about from the
loss of its queen?” Jaina asked incredulously, relying on her own boldness to hold onto at least
some semblance of agency in her current situation.

“Don’t be silly,” Zul’jin sighed, sounding almost bored as his single remaining eye flicked back
and forth over drawings and words older than anything Jaina could even hope to comprehend.
“Of course, I won’t keep you. You wouldn’t hurt her enough to be worth it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jaina demanded, all the strength bleeding from her voice so
quickly that it was a whisper by the time she got the words out.

“I know how to hurt the Queen of Lies, Jaina Proudmoore,” Zul’jin clarified as he finally shut
his book and placed it aside only to meet Jaina’s gaze in a cold, calculating way that nothing
short of terrified her. “I’ve done it before.”

“There you are,” Lireesa said quietly as she tucked the swaddled newborn against his mother’s
breast with a soft smile. “You did so well.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” the woman said, returning Lireesa’s smile, albeit with no
small amount of exhaustion.

“Well,” Lireesa breathed with a smile followed soon thereafter by a wink. “I best be getting
back to Malande. Alleria’s adult fangs are coming in. You’re already looking forward to that,
I’m sure.”

“So much,” The woman lied with a raspy laugh. “Give Malande my love.”

“Of course. And if you need anything, she’ll be around on the morrow.”

Lireesa ducked out of the tent and listened to the sound of the newly delivered baby cooing at his
mother until she was out of earshot. She’d always been fond of the woods at night, even as
dangerous as they were. The sounds were more vibrant. The smells, even. Especially when all
the leaves had begun to fall and blanket the sounds of her own footfall.
Knowing Malande had been out herb-gathering since morning, she gathered a few lingering
mushrooms and tubers for a quick soup to warm them all come dinner time - tucking them safely
in the pouch at her belt.

Her smile lingered even as she approached the little hollow she shared with her wife and their
daughter.

It faded when she heard a gut-wrenching wail.

Her steps shifted from slow, easy things to long strides so fast she might have been a blur to
anyone watching, and she burst into the clearing to find Alleria pacing in front of the tent
wringing her tiny hands. She couldn’t get to her daughter quickly enough. She couldn’t lift her
into her arms quickly enough.

She hadn’t even gotten a chance to look Alleria over when she heard fast footsteps approaching
from the other side of the clearing, and by the time whatever was approaching lept through the
thicket separating them she had extended her hand and conjured a blast that might have leveled
a campsite.

“It’s me!” Areiel shouted, hands extended and her ears back. Her eyes were as wild as the twigs
caught in her hair made her look. “Lireesa, it’s me! I was checking my traps and I heard Alleria
crying. What’s happened?”

Lireesa, still trembling with fear and with the power of the magic she’d wrenched from the
leyline that ran beneath their camp, finally knelt down and stood Alleria up in front of herself as
Areiel approached cautiously.

“I’m here,” Lireesa whispered urgently as she cradled Alleria’s face in her hands to wipe some
of her tears away. “I’m here, my darling girl. What’s wrong? What’s happened? Where is your
mother?”

Alleria shook her head as another sob wracked her body. “She didn’t come home. She said she’d
be here by dark.”

The sun had set hours ago.

Lireesa swallowed thickly and looked up at Areiel.

“Have you seen anything? On your trap line?”

Areiel shook her head as her brows furrowed. “No. I wouldn’t have seen a trail I wasn’t looking
for. Not in the leaves. They’re too thick.”

“Watch her.” Lireesa said urgently, lifting Alleria quickly into her arms and pressing a rushed
kiss to her cheek before she passed her to Areiel and headed for their tent. Areiel ducked inside
after her and began wrapping Alleria’s body in whatever furs and blankets she could find to stop
her shivering while Lireesa scrambled through a chest near the bedroll she shared with
Malande.

“Let me fetch someone to watch her,” Areiel said even as she rubbed her hands up and down
Alleria’s arms. “I’m a better tracker than you.”
“I won’t be tracking her with my eyes, Areiel. I need to know Alleria is safe while I search. I only
trust you to do this for me.”

Areiel nodded despite how hard her jaw had clenched, and she sat down on the little bedroll that
belonged to Alleria to allow the girl to climb into her lap so she could be held.

Her eyes followed Lireesa as she headed back for the entrance to the tent with a sack flung over
her shoulder and her hood pulled tight over her head.

Lireesa had always been fond of the woods at night, even as dangerous as they were.

“Malande,” Lireesa whispered the name as she slid to a stop in the leaves where the magic
residue she’d been trailing was strong. Pooled beneath them like…

She brushed the leaves away from the ground quickly, but before she could even see properly,
she felt the cold wetness of blood on her fingertips. Soaking into the near-frozen earth below.

“Malande!”

Her fangs were bared and her eyes were wild as she kept following the trail. She was panting for
breath. It had been nearly an hour, now, and almost all of it at a sprint all while she funneled her
own energy into the magic that allowed her to see where her wife had been.

She was far from home when she stopped running.

Far enough that no one would ever hear the agony in her scream as she collapsed over the body
of her lover - ruined almost beyond recognition. Blackened by the dark magic that had bested
her. Bled dry by the axe that had been left as a message.

“I need you,” Lireesa whispered into the night. To the snow that blanketed the long-abandoned
garden she had retreated to. She didn’t even shiver as snow fell into her hair and over her
shoulders - bared to the night by her dress. “Why did you leave me?”

I would never have left you by choice, my Wild One.

Even now, Lireesa could imagine her voice. Even after centuries of burying it all into the
deepest recesses of her mind. She could imagine the warmth of it. The wisdom. The soft heat of
her power - light in every way that her own was dark. The sun to her shadow.

“Why are you alone?”

Areiel’s voice was soft and coaxing from behind her. Her presence was strangely gentle as she
sat on the stone bench at Lireesa’s side after brushing the snow from it.

“I don’t want to be,” Lireesa whispered, and all the strength seemed gone from her tone.

“When are you leaving?” Areiel asked as she removed her cloak and carefully wrapped it around
Lireesa’s shoulders.

“At dawn,” Lireesa said. “Before Sylvanas wakes to ask where our troops are assembling.”
Because there were no troops assembling.

Areiel reached for Lireesa’s hand and slowly drew it into her own lap so she could wrap it in
what little warmth she could offer. Her skin was so cold Areiel nearly shivered, herself.

“Will you ride with me? Just halfway?”

Areiel swallowed thickly as she tightened her hold on Lireesa’s hand and nodded.

“Of course.”

“I would go spend the rest of the night with Vereesa, I think,” Lireesa said. “There is nothing
more to be done.”

Areiel stood slowly and helped Lireesa stand through the stiffness the cold had driven into her
bones.

She walked with her silently through the palace to Vereesa’s rooms, and stood in the doorway as
Lireesa thanked and dismissed her nurse.

“Do you need anything?” Areiel asked as Lireesa sat down on the edge of Vereesa’s bed.

“Company,” Lireesa said, and Areiel shut the door and moved to take up residence in the rocker
Vereesa’s nurse had only just been curled up in.

Vereesa’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled at the sight of her mother. A rare treat, but one she
welcomed nonetheless.

“Mama?”

Lireesa smiled and opened her arms, and Vereesa quickly climbed from beneath her thick
blankets to pile herself into Lireesa’s lap.

“Is it still snowing?” She asked.

“It is,” Lireesa said as she stroked slowly along Vereesa’s back.

“Can we play tomorrow?” Vereesa asked, though she sounded as though she was already on the
verge of sleep again.

Lireesa’s eyes fell shut as she kissed the top of Vereesa’s head.

“It’s too cold, now, darling girl. Let’s get you back to bed. I’ll be watching over you tonight.”

“Will you tell me a story?” Vereesa asked as her mother helped her under the covers.

“Which story?” Lireesa asked as she ran the curled back of her hand down Vereesa’s cheek.

“About the girl and the wyvern,” Vereesa said excitedly, and Lireesa smiled and nodded.

“Once upon a time, there was a young girl. A wild girl that grew up in the trees. As much a
creature of the forest as she ever was an elf. All elves were like her, then. But she wasn’t like all
elves.”

“Because she was magic,” Vereesa offered with a knowing smile.

“That’s right,” Lireesa said. “Because she was magic.”

It had always been Vereesa’s favorite story. How could a child not love a tale with a brave little
girl who saved herself and her friend, another little girl without any magic of her own, from a
creature as fearsome as a wyvern?

The story ended and Vereesa asked the same question she always did.

“Who were they? The magic girl and her friend?”

“No one knows,” Lireesa said with a mischievous little smile before she bent to kiss Vereesa’s
forehead. “Rest, now.”

Areiel was standing at the window of Vereesa’s room now staring out the window into the night.
She was still standing there even when Vereesa was fast asleep. Even when Lireesa had stood
and made her way over to stand behind her.

“Perhaps you could tell her some day,” Lireesa said as she looked out into the courtyard past
Areiel’s shoulder through the thick glass that kept the cold from getting in. “Who they were.”

“That was so long ago,” Areiel breathed past the lump she’d been fighting against that was
lodged firmly in her throat. “I’d nearly forgotten. Have you always told her that story?”

“I have,” Lireesa said. “It’s was one of Sylvanas’s favorites, as well. I was never a good
storyteller, you know. Not like you. The way you were with Alleria.”

“Thankfully our lives have been eventful enough that you needn’t have been good at making
anything up,” Areiel said, and Lireesa finally reached out to cover her hand with her own on the
ledge of the window.

“You should rest,” Areiel said after a while, and Lireesa, lacking the willpower to argue,
followed her to across the room to a small sofa the nurse sometimes slept on.

If there was any chance Areiel might have drifted off, all that ended the moment Lireesa turned
towards her and rested her face against her chest.

“You don’t have to go,” Areiel whispered as she lifted a hand to run through Lireesa’s wavy,
snow-damp hair. “Please don’t go.”

“Shh,” Lireesa whispered, turning her face more towards Areiel as her ears sank a bit. “Please.”

Areiel fell quiet then and slipped an arm around Lireesa’s back as she watched Vereesa slumber
peacefully across the room until Lireesa’s breathing, too, evened out. Only then did a few tears
find a path down her face as she lifted a hand and traced her fingertips along the scar that split
Lireesa’s brow. The only proof that the story of the magic girl was true.
 The Rockrose and the Thistle

“I’ll saddle him myself,” Lireesa said in the torch Areiel was holding for them to the royal
stablemaster who had grabbed her horse’s tack upon seeing her. She seemed surprised. She had
every right to be. Lireesa didn’t find herself in the stables often at all anymore, the palace was in
an uproar, and it wasn’t even dawn, yet.

“Of course, My Lady. Is there anything you need from me?” She asked with a furrow between
his brow as her rather high-spirited stallion beat his front hoof against the ground and whinnied.

“Easy,” Lireesa said to him, and at once he calmed and lowered his head. “No, no. You should
see yourself out, Shalenn. Areiel and I will be riding alone this morning.”

The stablemaster bowed her head and showed herself out of the stables quickly. She knew well
after her years of service to the Windrunners when something wasn’t any of her business, and
when to make herself scarce in response.

“Let me,” Areiel whispered to Lireesa as she slipped the torch into the nearest holder on the
stone walls of the stable. “Let me do this for you, at least?”

Lireesa looked up at Areiel from the black leather saddle she’d been about to lift onto her
horse’s back and relented with a faint nod. Areiel went to work, then. She was quick and at ease
in this task as she always had been - fastening each strap and buckle carefully and quickly and
brushing her fingertips over engraved silver and the etchings and markings that belonged only to
Lireesa.

“So sentimental over a saddle,” Lireesa observed with a soft exhale, and Areiel bit her lower lip.

“I am sentimental over you,” Areiel responded quietly as she reached, next, for the horse’s
matching bridle. “But you know this.”

“True enough,” Lireesa said, and Areiel went back about her business as the snow continued to
fall outside - already beginning to cover the paths that had been cut through it around the palace
grounds throughout the night.

Areiel paused for a moment and gave the horse a soft pat against his strong neck before she
finally looked over at Lireesa, dressed head to toe in black from her wolf-fur-lined cloak to her
black leathers. Some might have thought she looked to be in mourning. Areiel knew her too well
for that.

“Thank you,” Lireesa said, and took her horse’s reins from Areiel’s gloved hand into her own.

Areiel moved on - again, without speaking - to her own horse a few stalls down from Lireesa’s.
He greeted her by pressing his nose against her shoulder, but she had no smiles to spare for him
this morning.

There were no more words between them even as they mounted up and left the stables. Areiel
might have marveled as she used to at how steady Lireesa’s demon of a horse was if she didn’t
feel every inch of her soul splintering all the way down to the core of her being. She was almost
breathless with the feeling.

Their horses’ hooves had just begun clop against the snow-covered cobbles of the path leading
from the stables to the city walls when Lireesa squinted her eyes at a row of torches just ahead
of them. Areiel, out of instinct, urged her horse from Lireesa’s side so that she was riding a few
steps ahead - always between the danger and Lireesa. Always.

But there was no threat in those pinpricks of yellow light in the darkness of night. She knew that
once they were close enough. Once they were close enough to see Liadrin and her most trusted
guards standing at attention with their hands on the pommels of their swords, stoic and
unmoving.

Liadrin was the first to lift her closed fist and rest it against her chest. Her guard followed one by
one as Lireesa passed by.

Liadrin didn’t speak.

Neither did Lireesa.

But she did reach out a hand. A query that was answered by the reaching of one of Liadrin’s
own.

The touch was fleeting. Just a quick squeeze of one black velvet glove in one dark brown leather
one.
Lireesa’s eyes returned to the path ahead and Areiel once again slowed her horse to ride at her
side.

“I didn’t tell them.”

“Liadrin knew,” Lireesa said simply. “Liadrin knew when she saw you and I in the practice
chamber after I saw Zul’jin’s message.”

Areiel cleared her throat and shifted her weight in her saddle. “I see.”

“Do you know why I wanted you to ride with me?” Lireesa asked after another stretch of silence
spanned the distance between them like an eternity.

“Perhaps you pity me,” Areiel said, knowing Lireesa would hear her despite how the wind
whipped at the hoods of their cloaks. “Perhaps you mean to placate me into staying here and
putting out fires long enough to give you time to do whatever it is that you need to do.”

Lireesa didn’t answer right away. In fact, she remained quiet for so long that Areiel couldn’t
help the beseeching way in which she looked over at her a few moments later only to find
Lireesa looking down at her own hands holding her reins against the saddle horn.

“The reason I wanted you with me is purely selfish,” Lireesa finally, and she almost laughed in
spite of herself. “Can you believe? A moment of true selfishness?”

“As though you don’t deserve a moment of selfishness after everything,” Areiel said gently.

“Well,” Lireesa sighed. “I wanted you here with me because I’m not entirely sure I could’ve
done this alone, though I’ll have to eventually. I never was all that skilled at pulling the bandage
off quickly, you know.”

Areiel was still looking at Lireesa - trusting her horse not to run through an errant pile of snow
now that they’d ridden beyond the walls and onto a road less well-kept than the rest. “I’m afraid
I still don’t understand, Lireesa.”

“Do you remember when we were children? Do you remember how you would hide in the trees
just to drop down and scare me?”

Areiel almost laughed. She might have, too, if she didn’t feel the crushing weight of inevitability
bearing down on them both - infinite and insurmountable in its heaviness. “I do.”

“Do you remember, too, when the first snow fell each year and our snow fights turned into you
bringing me the first snow lily of the year?”

Areiel grew more somber, then. “Of course, I do.” Her voice was scarcely a whisper.

“I was sick with love for you before I even knew what love was. I thought of you and nothing
else. I was so proud of you when your skill in trapping became such that you could provide for
our entire camp some nights. I sometimes wonder what might have happened if we hadn’t been
so young. I sometimes wonder if we might have waited until we were older if, perhaps...if she
might still be alive. If everything could have turned out differently and we wouldn’t be making
this journey at all.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Lireesa,” Areiel said rather urgently, tightening her grip on her horse’s
reins without realizing it. Only when he began to balk did she release the tension. “It wasn’t
your fault.”

“Perhaps not,” Lireesa said. “But many things were and many things are. The reason I wanted
you with me, Areiel, is because you look at me the same way, still. I catch you now and then,
you know, with that look in your eyes. The one I saw from across the campfire some nights. The
one I saw when there weren’t yet smile lines along with your glances when you were holding
that first lily. You look at me like I am...like I am still a person. And I needed to feel like a
person, now. One last time.”

Areiel’s hands were trembling, now, as her entire being became Lireesa’s words and Lireesa’s
words became her entire being. For a moment, the weight left her. She no longer felt the
looming shadow of it all waiting to crush her at any second.

It returned with a rush, but before it could overtake her, she reached out for Lireesa’s saddle and
gripped it as she turned her horse to stop Lireesa’s from taking another step forward.

“Wait,” Areiel said, a furrow between her brows and a dangerous tremor in her voice. “Can’t we
wait just a moment?”

Lireesa looked into the softness of Areiel’s face and into the warm, deep blue glow of her eyes -
cutting through the dark night and the snow like a beacon she could nigh afford to find hope in.

“Yes,” was all she could manage to whisper, and she watched with an unspoken question in her
eyes as Areiel slipped from her saddle and offered a hand to Lireesa to help her down from her
own. She might as well have been holding a lily for how willingly Lireesa joined her on the
ground - now shielded from the wind and the snow by the mass of both their horses.

“Lireesa,” Areiel said as she reached up to better secure Lireesa’s hood against her head. She
kept holding it even once she had. “You must come back to us. To me. You are still a person.
You are still the most magnificent being I have ever known. The world would suffer your loss.
And I...I don’t know that I will survive it.”

“But you must,” Lireesa said, and there was an unfamiliar gentleness in her tone as her own
hands came up - bypassing Areiel’s hood altogether to cradle her face in the velvet her gloves
were made of. “You must give Sylvanas what I have cheated her of all of these years. You must
make sure Vereesa knows that I am so terribly, terribly sorry for never being the mother that I
should have been. Do you remember, too, the way Alleria would curl up in your lap when you
would watch her? How safe she always felt in your arms despite it all?”

Areiel’s eyes were pooling with tears that had already begun to freeze on her lashes when she
nodded.

“You offer more than I ever could even now,” Lireesa said, and the corners of her lips turned up
into an almost-smile that threatened to drive what little sanity was left in Areiel into extinction.
“Don’t take that from them. Do me this one last favor, though I have no right to ask it of you. Do
what I no longer could for my children. For our child.”

A tear finally fell, then. A single tear that had enough intent behind it to fight its way past the
cold only to start to freeze on her cheek. Lireesa caught it with her gloved thumb and stepped
closer to her to press their foreheads together. When her eyes shut, her own tears began to betray
her.

“Please.”

“Alright,” Areiel whispered, swallowing again and again as Lireesa’s hands fell to her cuirass to
grasp at it tightly and keep her close. “Alright you have my word.”

Lireesa’s head fell and she gasped her relief into Areiel’s chest before her shoulders shook a
single time.

“You have all of me,” Areiel murmured as she slipped one of her hands around to cradle the
back of Lireesa’s head. “You carry me with you even now. Even when I can no longer go where
you go. And you always, always have.”

All at once, Lireesa lifted her head and pressed forward with such strength that Areiel’s
shoulders met the solid heft of her horse’s side and her breath was driven out of her as Lireesa’s
lips met her own. It was a kiss of desperation. A kiss that Areiel allowed a sob to break into as
her lips parted for Lireesa when she sought to deepen it in her desire for closeness.

“I’m sorry,” Lireesa gasped against Areiel’s lips when things weren’t so urgent and hard. “I’m so
sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be sorry for my loving you,” Areiel murmured as the tips of their noses brushed
together, so cold they were almost numb. “For my devotion. These things were always given
freely and willingly. No matter how far I strayed, or for how long.”

“I’m not sorry for that, ridiculous woman,” Lireesa managed to gasp as she pressed her face
rather firmly against the crook of Areiel’s neck through her hood. “But I am terribly sorry you
had to stray. I’m sorry Sylvanas couldn’t know you as she should have. But she will now. Please
see to that.”

“I will,” Areiel murmured, moving her free arm to wrap around the small of Lireesa’s back
beneath her cloak to hold onto her more securely as a rather wicked gust of wind found its way
to them past the safe-haven of their horses.

“I think it’s best you turn back, now,” Lireesa whispered, slowly pulling away from Areiel. Her
hand was now pressed against Areiel’s chest over her rapidly beating heart. “You should go.”

“I’m not ready,” Areiel said and took a step forward to close the distance between them again.
“Lireesa I’m not-”

“Go, Areiel,” Lireesa snapped, gathering what little shirt was peeking from the top of Areiel’s
cuirass into her fist and tugging it firmly. Her voice had trembled almost as much as her hand
was. “Go now before I don’t have the strength to watch you leave.”

Areiel faltered where she stood and shook her head as she took Lireesa’s hand into her own and
lifted it to press her lips against her knuckles.

“Please,” Areiel whispered against the cold velvet. “Please.”

Lireesa leaned in quickly and kissed her again. Softer, now, before she slipped her hand free and
lifted herself into her saddle in one quick, fluid set of motions.

“Keep your promise to me,” Lireesa said as her horse settled beneath her slight weight. “If ever
you loved me, keep your promise.”

Areiel choked back a sob and looked up at Lireesa, for the first time realizing the sun had begun
to rise enough to cast a greyish light over her through the relentless snow. “I will. I swear.”

“Wait here, then, for Jaina. If you haven’t spotted her by morning, rain hellfire down upon
Zul’Aman.”

Lireesa gripped her reins tightly as the wind stole her hair from her hood and threatened to tear it
away from her. She no longer felt the cold. Not even when she looked away and rode on.

“Jaina!” Areiel shouted from her saddle at the sight of Jaina approaching on Lireesa’s horse.
She’d been cold for so long she wasn’t sure she would be able to move when need be despite the
enchantment Lireesa had left upon her cloak. Even so, something in her gave her the strength to
nudge her horse forward over the ridge the young mage had just begun descending. “Jaina, is
that you?”

Jaina remained silent. Even when Areiel’s horse finally sidled up to Lireesa’s, she remained
silent.

Areiel removed her cloak quickly and leaned away from her saddle to wrap it around Jaina, but
Jaina lifted a hand to stop her.

“There is no need,” Jaina said simply without looking at her and without ever stopping her
horse. “Take me to Sylvanas.”

Areiel felt the hairs rise up along her arms beneath her thick, fur-lined shirt at the strangely
hollow quality of Jaina’s voice.

“Did they hurt you?” Areiel asked after she got over the strange feeling. “Are you alright?”

“I wasn’t harmed.”

Areiel looked at her again, then. Closer, this time. She sounded so strange, but she looked to be
telling the truth. She looked utterly unscathed despite it all.

“You...you must be anxious to see her. Sylvanas.”

Again, Areiel was met with silence. She stared ahead of them into the snow as she huddled over
the horn of her saddle in an attempt to make herself a bit smaller. Anything to keep the wind
from hitting quite so much of her body. She was sure her old heart was going to give out when
she saw a shadow through the snow far off in the direction of the city. It wasn’t long before she
could hear the thundering of hooves.

Areiel took in a deep, rather exasperated breath as she reached for the sword at her belt only to
find Jaina reaching towards her. Areiel looked at her incredulously and drew the sword anyway.
At least, she tried to. It made it halfway from its scabbard before it was stopped by a force far
stronger than anything Areiel could hope to compete with.

She might have panicked if she didn’t realize Jaina was looking at her.

“Are you doing this?” Areiel demanded. “Is this some sort of trap? Are you-”

Areiel was cut off by a shrill, sharp whistle before she could make any of the wild accusations
that were currently running through her frazzled thoughts. Her brow furrowed in confusion for a
moment before the meaning of that whistle cut through the mental haze she’d been battling for
the better part of the morning.

“It’s Alleria.”

Jaina nodded her understanding and continued riding silently at Areiel’s side until Alleria’s
horse slid to a stop in front of them through the snow. Alleria held up a hand when it looked as
though Areiel was about to start explaining.

“Liadrin told us everything,” Alleria announced as she tightened her thighs against her horse’s
heaving sides to still him. “Sylvanas is ready to order an assembly of troops. I asked her for an
hour and she gave it to me. We need to get back to the palace at once.”

Areiel leveled a gaze at Alleria for a moment or two before she looked at Jaina, who was already
looking at her - expressionless.

“Can you ride hard?” She asked, already gathering herself to prepare for what was to come.

“Harder than you,” Jaina challenged simply, and with a deep breath, Areiel kicked her horse into
action. They flew down the path Alleria’s horse had already cut for them with the guards
strapped to his legs all in a single-file line. The snow cut into Areiel’s skin to remind her she
wasn’t as numb as she might’ve liked to be. A ride that had taken an hour earlier this morning
was over in moments - culminating in a series of graceless stops in the courtyard of the palace
where Liadrin and her guard were waiting.

Liadrin looked more than a little relieved at the sight she was presented with, and immediately,
she went to help Jaina down.

Jaina dropped from her saddle on the side of her horse opposite the hand Liadrin had offered her
and lowered her hood.

“Take me to Sylvanas,” she repeated her earlier request, and there was a moment of confused
concern between those gathered before Liadrin stepped forward and offered her arm.

“Areiel,” Jaina specified, now, her eyes already lifting to the rooms she knew Sylvanas to be in
in the Queen’s tower. “Areiel will take me to her.”

Liadrin’s eyes cut from Jaina to Areiel - the suspicion she felt was only thinly veiled in the way
her eyes narrowed by the otherwise stoic look on her face.

“Sylvanas is in Lireesa’s study writing marching orders,” Liadrin said. “So the two of you had
best hurry.”
“This way,” Areiel said, not even bothering to offer Jaina a hand or a cloak. Jaina was already
two steps ahead of her, anyway - walking in long, quick strides across the courtyard and through
the open doors that led to the inner corridors of the lower floor of the royal wing. Snow had
begun to gather inside, even. Such was the design of a palace built for eternal spring.

“Jaina?” Areiel’s voice was a near-whisper in the emptied hallways of the tower as they began
ascending the first set of stairs. “Why won’t you speak to me normally? If you think Sylvanas is
going to be able to stand you acting like this without assuming the worse, you are terribly
mistaken. I understand you’ve been through far too much over the past days, but this isn’t-”

“This isn’t important, Areiel,” Jaina cut her off before she could get too carried away as she
rounded a corner sharply and left Areiel scrambling to catch up. “I’m not here for idle chatter.
I’m here to stop a war.”

“What…” Areiel trailed off as she looked at Jaina in the flickering torchlight only to find a
strange, barely-there glow present in her eyes. “What does that mean, Jaina?”

“I don’t have the strength to explain myself twice,” Jaina said as thickly cake snow continued to
fall from her shoulders onto the marble floors. “Please do not make me.”

Areiel let out a troubled breath and fell silent, then - managing to keep pace with Jaina a bit
better now that she’d finally begun to thaw thanks to the warmth that leaked into the corridors
from the various hearths blazing in the rooms they’d passed. Unoccupied, but heated by flame
nonetheless in an attempt to keep the royal tower warm where there was no magic left to do the
job.

Before Areiel could even reach for Lireesa’s door to open it, it swung open of its own accord.
Jaina’s eyes had blazed a little brighter when it did, and she stepped into the parlor and stopped
there when she saw Sylvanas standing in the center of the room.

Sylvanas looked first at Jaina, then at Areiel.

“What have you done?” She asked Areiel in a near-whisper.

“...What?” Areiel demanded incredulously after a moment of stunned silence.

“She has done nothing, Sylvanas,” Jaina said, and her voice held a touch more emotion and
significantly more gentleness than it had before. “Your anger is woefully misplaced.”

Sylvanas’s ears pressed back against her skull and she wrung her hands and shifted her weight
from one foot to the other before she rolled her shoulders and exhaled long and slow. “Tell me
what’s going on. Please.”

“I would like to know, as well,” Areiel said in the midst of everything. “If at all possible.”

Jaina took a step towards Sylvanas, then, and offered her what was, at least, an attempt at a
warm smile. “I need your trust, now. More than anything. More than ever. Will you give it to
me?”

Areiel looked back and forth between the two of them with confusion etched into every feature
on her face as she waited with bated breath to know anything at all.
“I will try,” Sylvanas breathed, and Areiel wondered why her voice wavered so.

“You had to know I couldn't live the rest of my life having exchanged it for the mother of my
wife,” Jaina said, and her tone was beseeching yet firm. “You had to know I couldn’t have lived
with myself had I not tried.”

Sylvanas shook her head and nearly looked away. She might have, too, if she wasn’t so terrified
of doing that very thing. “Jaina, I-”

Jaina lifted a hand and Sylvanas fell silent immediately.

“You know that I love you with all that I am. With more than I thought I could be. If you love
me the same way in return, you will understand that I couldn’t see the only people I have ever
felt were my family and the only home I have ever felt was my home destroyed.”

Sylvanas clenched her jaw so tightly she was sure her teeth would crack if she didn’t stop, and
only when the discomfort become unbearable did she speak. And when she spoke, her voice
broke just as she feared it would.

“But where are you?”

Areiel’s eyes widened and she felt her heart drop to the very pit of her stomach. She gaped at
Jaina as the young woman sighed almost wistfully and lifted a hand to curl against Sylvanas’s
cheek.

It seemed to pass through instead of over, and Areiel shook her head in a bid to deny what she
was looking at more to herself than anything.

“Hiding,” Jaina explained quietly. “And after this, I will rest. And after that, I will find Lireesa
and I will bring her home.”

“And what of Zul’jin?” Sylvanas asked quickly, not bothering to reach for the hand that had
attempted to touch her. She hadn’t felt it anyway beyond a slight tingle of magic residue left
behind on her skin. “What of Zul’Aman?”

Jaina smiled, then. A smile that was much less sad and much more confident.

“Well, I don’t intend to leave any loose ends behind. I’m certain your mother would agree once I
find her. She’s the key to what holds them where they are. I felt her magic the moment I stepped
onto the first stone. They think they released me once she crossed the threshold of the keep and I
suppose in a way they did. I assure you I am safe, and I assure you I will continue to be. Now
tell me, Sylvanas. Tell me that you trust me. Tell me that you won’t bring our home to war
unless all is lost otherwise.”

Sylvanas choked on her response and looked away quickly and once again, Jaina’s hand moved
to her face.

This time, it rested against her cheek. As warm and as real as ever it had been, if only for a
moment.
It was enough to draw Sylvanas’s attention back to where Jaina wanted it. Jaina trapped her in a
gaze and for a moment, everything fell away. Even the stricken retired ranger captain standing
beside them.

“I trust you,” Sylvanas said in a tremble of a whisper.

“I love you,” Jaina said quietly. “And I will be back by your side soon enough.”

Jaina’s image began to waver for the first time, and Sylvanas nearly sobbed at the look of
exhaustion that suddenly broke through the impassive mask of Jaina’s image.

“I love you more than you know,” Sylvanas whispered before she mustered every ounce of
fortitude she had left. “You’re running out of strength. You should...you should go.”

Jaina smiled again one last time and then they were alone. There was nothing more than a
puddle of melted snow where Jaina had only just been standing.

“Sylvanas,” Areiel whispered after a moment. “Sylvanas, I am so sorry. I didn’t-”

“You had no way of knowing,” Sylvanas said quickly before Areiel could further prostrate
herself. “It isn’t your fault. If Jaina didn’t want you to know, you wouldn’t have. I just...I didn’t
know she’d grown so powerful. The strength to cast an image so convincing for so long and at
such a distance…”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Areiel whispered. “Not since Lireesa was young.”

“Nor have I,” Sylvanas agreed.

“But perhaps if she has such power, we should believe she can do whatever it is that she’s
decided to do. Perhaps she holds more wisdom than we are giving her credit for, even at her
age.”

“She’s wiser than me in some ways,” Sylvanas said, but the broken tone of her voice and the
despondent look on her face was still almost more than Areiel could bear. “I stand to lose
everything, Areiel. I stand to lose everything and to call this kingdom to war as my first act as its
ruler.”

“I won’t let you lose everything, Sylvanas,” Areiel said, and she reached out to wrap her hand
gently around Sylvanas’s arm - squeezing it through the plain black linen of her shirt.

“I know that if you had any control over this at all, that would be true,” Sylvanas said, trying her
best to offer her old friend some small semblance of comfort. “I know you stand to lose much, as
well.”

“Well,” Areiel said, unwilling to acknowledge the possibility of a life after Lireesa. “I should
fetch Liadrin. Valeera, too. We’ll need them both to keep this quiet for much longer.”

“Do that, then,” Sylvanas said, and her voice sounded surprisingly steady and sure.

Areiel contemplated as she went about her tasks just how different Sylvanas was from her
mother, and just how similar she was when she needed to be.
Jaina dragged a breath into her lungs so deeply that it burned like shards of ice within her chest
as the air filled her. She shuddered against the cold stone floor of the long-abandoned cell she’d
taken up residence in early that morning when she’d left her image in her place. She was
exhausted. But she knew she couldn’t rest.

With that thought in mind, she dragged herself to her feet shaking all the while. Her clothes were
heavy with the muck and wet from the floor she’d been curled up on, and her eyes ached as they
began to adjust to seeing the world around her instead of the warm light that permeated the
firelit palace so far from Zul’Aman.

As tired as she was, Jaina knew there would be no rest for her any time soon. Despite how
strong she was, Lireesa wouldn’t be easy to find. Not when every stone held a touch of her
magic. Magic so ancient and potent Jaina couldn’t even comprehend the depths of it. Magic that
was, perhaps, stronger than Lireesa was now, herself. No, this would be no easy task. But Jaina
didn’t care. It was a task that was hers and hers alone to see through to the end.

“Is this what it feels like,” Zul’jin began as he paced the floors of his chamber. “To see an old
friend? I wouldn’t know. I’ve been locked away with the same faces for so long I’ve lost count
of the years. Of the centuries.”

Lireesa didn’t answer. She just stared at him with ice in her eyes - her arms tense in the grips of
the two guards who were holding her where she stood.

“Don’t be rude, Queen of Thieves. Queen of Lies. You are my guest and I have shown you
nothing but hospitality.”

Lireesa scoffed and sneered.

“You call this hospitality?” She asked, tilting her head in the direction of one of the guards who
still had a vice-like grip on her arm. “You are as brutish and as full of folly as you were when
you had both your arms and both your eyes.”

Zul’jin stopped pacing and slowly turned to face her. Already, his eyes burned with barely-
contained rage.

“Strange,” He drawled in the low rumble of his voice. “Strange how you have been in my
presence for so long, now, and you have not yet kneeled.”

Lireesa tensed in the hands that held her, and the cool light of her eyes turned bright and
dangerous as she bared her fangs.

“I will not kneel at the feet of a monster.”

“And yet you let your subjects kneel at the feet of a monstrosity such as yourself,” Zul’jin
retorted easily. He had had long to think of all the things he might say to Lireesa upon seeing her
again. Far too long. “You let your subjects kneel on your shining floors and kiss your anointed
feet while you hide your horns beneath your pretty black hair.”
He took a step forward then while Lireesa continued to glare daggers through him rather than at
him, and he knelt so they were eye to eye.

“Do you know what shit is if you cover it in gold and gild it in marble?” He asked in a whisper.

Lireesa finally began to tremble in impotent rage.

“Shit.”

The word had dripped from his mouth and the guards began to laugh. All at once, Zul’jin raised
himself to his full height in such a way they fell silent instantly.

“What do you think this is?” He asked them, narrowing his eyes and toying with one of the
much-feared pouches at his belt. “Do you think I exist for your entertainment?”

Wisely, they didn’t respond.

He tsk’d and waved one of his hands dismissively.

“Leave us.”

Lireesa stood stock still even when she was released, and Zul’jin left here where she was to
traipse across the room to a corked waterskin he drained without pausing.

“I almost don’t know what to do with myself,” Zul’jin said as he wiped his mouth with the back
of his arm and tossed the emptied skin back onto the table it had been waiting on. He was
already removing one of the aforementioned pouches from his belt by the time he made it back
over to her. “I’ve thought of this moment for so long. I think I’ve thought about it so much my
words fail me.”

Lireesa said nothing. She just eyed the pouch Zul’jin was untying warily.

“Do you know what words I never forget?” He prodded, emptying a bit of the pouch’s contents
into his palm. Powder, Lireesa recognized. Powder that looked like shadow, somehow, at the
same time.

She shook her head only faintly, refusing to give him any pay-off for the effort he was putting
into his sickening riddle.

Zul’jin exhaled in a sudden powerful puff of breath that sent the powder in his hand into her face
- burning its way into her eyes and into her nose - licking at her insides and surrounding her in
shadow until she saw nothing but blackness.

But she could hear.

Gods, she could hear. Slowly, her sight began returning to her.

A clearing. Fallen leaves. A tall, lithe, familiar figure with golden hair and wild, deep blue eyes.

“Do what you will!” Malande screamed - seething with unbridled rage as golden magic
spiraled about her hands. Magic that did little to help her against the black tendrils licking at
her flesh. They burned like flames without any of the heat and yet, still, her flesh seared from her
very body. “But you will not harm them!”

“I will do as I please, elf,” Zul’jin corrected the priestess. “You will die on your knees begging
me for forgiveness for those of my kind you have killed, and then I will be sure you and yours
pay the rest of what you owe me in blood. And you will tell me where they are.”

“I will not ever-”

Malande’s voice was twisted into a guttural scream as she fell to her knees when her legs were
ruined entirely by the dark magic they were ensconced in.

“That’s more like it,” Zul’jin chuckled, waving away his magic until Lireesa was blinking away
the horrific sight from her tear-filled eyes. On her knees in front of Zul’jin. Choked beyond any
ability to speak and doing everything in her power not to empty the meager contents of her
stomach onto the floor between them. “I knew we could come to an agreement.”

“I-” Lireesa’s voice cut off. She had to swallow again and again as she fought the urge to be
sick. “I cannot...I-”

“Oh, neither could she,” Zul’jin finished for her with a merciless laugh. “And there is so, so
much more where that came from. I have perfected these magics. I can trap you there for an
eternity and bring you back to this very moment once you’ve gone mad twice over.”

Lireesa slowly - oh, so slowly - lifted her head to meet Zul’jin’s gaze, full of amusement as it
was. Slowly, his expression grew somber as her eyes narrowed.

“I will never lift this curse,” She breathed, spittle flying past her fangs as she hissed the words
from between them. “You will live here for all eternity rotting in the prison you built for
yourself. You will never know the peace of death. And you will never walk the forests you tried
so desperately to wrench from us again.”

She spit at his feet and knew nothing but darkness thereafter.
 En Prise

“Filth,” Lireesa growled from inside her cell, her eyes blazing so bright it was as though she was
trying to burn holes through the bars. “Vile, despicable filth.”

Dar’Khan smirked as he looked at Lireesa, bound by warded chains to the floor so severely she
couldn’t even rise to her feet.

“You would accuse me of being vile?” He asked in a low, easy tone. “For centuries, I have
watched you rule a kingdom that would have been better served by me. For centuries, I have
watched you grow so lax that I could do what I have done right under your very nose all while
knowing you sowed half of my seeds for me. From Valeera’s memories to Liadrin’s, you’ve
plundered your closest allies very thoughts all so they might better serve you, and you have the
audacity to call me vile.”

Lireesa flexed her wrists against the sharp edges of the metal cuffs that bound them. They were
already bleeding and raw, but her anger drowned out any pain she should have felt.

“You think that you will escape the kingdom’s wrath?” Lireesa asked.

“The kingdom’s wrath is gone,” Dar’Khan drawled, feigning boredom with his tone. “You look
well, by the way. You look like you belong there. In the muck. In chains.”
Lireesa was nearly ready to chew off her own hands to reach him when his attention was drawn
away by a figure approaching from the darkness of the hall.

“I didn’t realize you were still here,” Zul’jin’s voice found Lireesa’s ears and she nearly
shuddered. “And playing with fire, no less.”

“She’s warded properly,” Dar’Khan said with no less confidence than he was used to displaying.
“No one is in any danger.”

Zul’jin stopped in front of Lireesa’s cell, but all his focus was on Dar’Khan.

“I think you don’t understand,” Zul’jin said impassively. “I didn’t realize you were still here,
because you no longer need to be here.”

Dar’Khan looked at the troll incredulously for a moment and his mind worked furiously as he
turned to face him.

“I’m afraid I haven’t any idea what you mean.”

“There is no room in Zul’Aman for traitors,” Zul’jin said - his words low, slow, and measured.
“You have done what I needed from you and I no longer wish to be subjected to your stench.
Was that easier for you to understand?”

Dar’Khan looked at Zul’jin in disbelief. “You can’t possibly expect me to return to Silvermoon,”
he scoffed, refusing to accept his new reality or the implications of what Zul’jin was saying.
“They would have my head on a pike.”

“Perhaps then you won’t talk so much,” Zul’jin said, turning finally to face Lireesa - clearly
done with Dar’Khan. “I’ll put it on a pike myself if you aren’t gone from my sight without
another word.”

Dar’Khan looked from Zul’jin to Lireesa, who was just staring at him through her cell bars -
emotionless.

Zul’jin didn’t address her until the sound of Dar’Khan’s hurried footsteps faded into the
distance.

“Good evening, Queen of Lies,” He drawled, slowly lowering himself into a squat so he could
better look into her eyes. “I see you didn’t enjoy your meal.”

Lireesa glanced from the tray of slop that had been placed on the floor too far out of her reach to
even hope to eat it and then raised her eyes slowly again without speaking.

“Still so proud, stinking of dungeon filth and rat shit looking like you have never seen a bath,”
Zul’jin sounded almost sad and Lireesa tried hard to swallow her fury in response. “Ah, such is
life, I suppose. And have you had a change of heart about your little spell of holding?”

“You will die here, Zul’jin,” Lireesa whispered, her teeth chattering as her body warred against
starvation and anger and pain. “Just like me.”
“Pity,” Zul’jin tsk’d. “Your little priestess was proud, too, you know. Right up until her flesh
began to sear from her bones.”

Lireesa lunged forward so hard the cuffs around both her wrists tore her skin from its place and
as the pain jolted through her like a lightning strike she crumpled - hanging, now, from her
ruined wrists as her entire body shook.

“Her name,” Lireesa whispered, her head hanging so low the ends of her hair were dangling in
the muck she knelt in. “was Malande.”

“Doesn’t matter what her name was,” Zul’jin said. “But I digress. I suppose if you’re still not
feeling agreeable it’s time for you to dream again.”

“No!” Lireesa shouted, and Zul’jin held up a hand with black magic already dripping from it.
Lireesa, now unable to move or speak, could only watch in terror as the shadows left him to
come to her.

“Good night.”

Areiel couldn’t remember when last the palace was so dark. She couldn’t tell any longer if it was
her eyes playing tricks on her or her heart. All she knew was that she’d never been in a room full
of elves that was so quiet. Quiet, at least, until Valeera broke their silence first by clearing her
throat.

“There are mutterings today,” She began carefully, looking around first at Liadrin, then at
Sylvanas and Alleria where they sat together on Lireesa’s sofa, then at Areiel who stood staring
into the fire like she was a thousand years and a thousand miles away from the rest of them. “I
fear we might not keep this secret within these walls much longer.”

“How much time do you think we have?” Liadrin asked, tightening her grip on Valeera’s hand. It
almost pained her to have someone to hold like this when both Sylvanas and Areiel were now
perpetually bereft after two long days of waiting.

“Two days at most,” Valeera said. “The mana sickness is worsening and we are sorely lacking in
wine enough for all those in the court to make up for it. They’re already asking questions. That
started the first night the vineyards froze. It’s a hundred times worse now that no one has seen
Lireesa in days.”

“Then today we wait,” Sylvanas said, breaking her own silence as though she was waking from
a deep slumber. Alleria looked at her in surprise from her side. Surprise and concern. Always
concern, now. “And tomorrow we plan a war.”

It was Valeera’s turn to be silent, then. War wasn’t something she was familiar with. She fought
her battles in dark bedrooms and even darker alleyways. Her battles involved silence and
shadow, not swords clashing and glinting in the sun. Not the rivers of blood that would be
spilled in a raid on Zul’Aman.

“Tomorrow,” Areiel said, speaking for the first time since morning. “We crown a queen.”

All eyes turned to her, then.

“Our people will not fight for an empty throne. But they will fight for our savior’s daughter sat
upon it. I will fight for that daughter,” Areiel turned to face them all, then, but her attention was
solely on Sylvanas. “But you needn’t bear that weight alone. You must know that.”

Sylvanas looked more shocked than Areiel had ever seen her.

“You mean to name my mother’s successor knowing she yet lives?” Sylvanas demanded. “You
mean to expect me to rule a nation while my wife is held prisoner?”

“In name only,” Areiel said softly. “And we do not know that she yet lives.”

Sylvanas had no retort for that. She knew well the loss of her mother would pain Areiel
infinitely more than it pained her. She also knew Zul’jin likely had no idea Jaina was anywhere
but here. A fact that made their secret doubly important. A fact that Sylvanas reminded herself
of every day in a desperate bid to maintain her sanity.

“Tomorrow, then,” Sylvanas said after a long, pregnant pause. “But not before. I just can’t-”

“It’s okay,” Alleria murmured, and the hand she’d had resting on Sylvanas’s back began to move
in soothing circles again. Sylvanas had all but disregarded its presence until now. “Not today.
Not now.”

“It’s settled, then,” Areiel said, and already her strength seemed to be waning. She looked back
to the fire for a moment before her hand finally left the mantle above it as she stepped away and
moved towards the door. “If you’ll all excuse me, I need a moment. I’ll send for our dinner
while I’m gone.”

Alleria’s sharp eyes followed her all the way to the door.

She didn’t bother to excuse herself after it shut behind Areiel and she stood to follow her. The
mood in the room was far too somber for her presence to be missed for a moment or two, and
she had words for Areiel. Many of them.

She shut the door quietly on her way out and her strides were so long that they were one for
every two of Areiel’s. The distance between them, already negligible, was closed quickly and
her short chase ended with a hard grip on Areiel’s strong, sinewy shoulder. Areiel nearly lost her
balance because of the strength with which Alleria had grabbed onto her.

“You cannot go,” Alleria snapped once she had Areiel tucked away in the alcove made by a
nearby door, and only once she was certain they were alone. “You are no good to this family or
to this kingdom dead. You will allow the fighters who yet have fighting left in them to go in
your stead as you should.”

“You hold no sway over me, Alleria Windrunner. You do not issue me my orders. Nor does
anyone,” Areiel’s words might have stung were they not so gentle and sure all at once. “I will go
because it is my duty.”

“You will go because you still love her,” Alleria hissed and bared her fangs as she took a step
toward Areiel. Her ears pressed back severely and she squared herself so the older woman had
no clear means of escape. She could’ve if she’d wanted to. Especially with her construct
working as intended again. She could’ve. But she would never raise a hand to Alleria, and they
both knew it. “After everything she’s done. Everything she’s taken from you. The royal dog.”

“Do not dare, Alleria,” Areiel whispered, and her voice trembled with emotion Alleria hadn’t
heard in it in as long as she could remember. “Lireesa is...I am not the only one that needs her.”

“You would put her before Sylvanas, then? You would leave Sylvanas motherless?” Alleria
demanded harshly, anger blazing in her eyes that left Areiel breathless as her back pressed into
the wall she was now leaned against.

“Sylvanas doesn’t know that.” Areiel pressed in response - her tone both coaxing and wounded.
And confused. So very, very confused at the sudden vitriol coming from Alleria.

Alleria, who tsked with would-be disgust and pushed herself away from Areiel to stalk across
the room towards the untouched decanter of wine on the long, low table situated in front of the
sofa.

“Why are you so angry with me?” Areiel asked quietly, shifting away from the wall but not
taking another step towards Alleria. She would give her space. It was so obvious that that was
what she needed. Until...well. Until it wasn’t.

“Because I know,” Alleria whispered, and the words caught in her throat. They were ugly. They
tasted foul even as they dripped from her tongue like so much blood from an open wound. “And
because you were the only mother I knew for so, so long. And it means nothing to you.”

“You mean more to me than you will ever know,” Areiel whispered quickly. “Lireesa does not
mean more to me than you. What she means is just different. You know this. You are too old not
to know this. But if our kingdom is to go to war, then I would fight by your side. For our
family.”

There was conviction in Areiel’s voice where, before, there had been little more than heartache.
The change was enough for Alleria to turn almost apprehensively to face the other woman as she
approached slowly enough to be sure Alleria didn’t mind her closeness.

Areiel still wasn’t sure until she heard the softest of whimpers break in Alleria’s throat. Only
then did she move into her and pull her so strongly into her arms that Alleria couldn’t hope to
get away if she’d wanted to at all, and she didn’t.

“We’ll find them both, Alleria. And whatever battle lies ahead of us won’t stop us from it. I’ll
fight until there is nothing left in me for your sister, and for you.”

Alleria remembered all at once just how much her baby sister must be grieving right then. To
have lost her wife and her mother and then her wife all over again. She felt selfish, suddenly.
Terribly so.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered into Areiel’s shoulder as she returned her hug tightly and then
slowly pulled away. “I should be with Sylvanas, right now. This isn’t like me.”

“I know it isn’t,” Areiel said with a smile and a sigh as she gave Alleria’s arm a gentle squeeze.
“Go be with her for a moment. Perhaps for the night. I know she’s eager to march in the
morning. Let’s be sure she waits until then, hm?”
“Where will you be?” Alleria asked, and her brow furrowed as she looked into Areiel’s eyes
intently.

“Not doing anything foolish,” Areiel reassured with a half-hearted smile. “You have my word.”

“Am I interrupting something important?”

Sylvanas’s voice was strangely calm and quiet from behind them and Alleria’s eyes fell shut and
she winced visibly before she turned around. Areiel was already looking at her - stunned into
silence.

“Sylvanas,” Alleria said the name like a peace offering and Sylvanas lifted a hand.

“I can’t tell you how much I’m not prepared to process what I just heard at this juncture,”
Sylvanas said flatly. “My mother is trying to become a martyr, my wife is in Zul’Aman, I’m
being crowned Queen of Quel’Thalas tomorrow, and we are planning a war. I simply do not
have the capacity to add ‘my lifelong friend is the parent I never knew’ to the list.”

“Sylvanas, I’m sorry,” Areiel said quickly as soon as she’d finished speaking. “I was-”

“Please,” Sylvanas said, her voice now a whisper.

Areiel leaned back into the wall then and nodded, and Sylvanas looked between them both one
more time before she continued past them to wherever it was she’d been going before she’d
stopped when she’d heard them speaking - first out of politeness and then out of curiosity. That
was the thing about curiosity though, wasn’t it?

Alleria, too, watched her go in silence with her ears hanging low and her exhaustion written all
over her face. “I thought you might go after her,” She said without looking at Areiel.

“I would go after her out of selfishness only,” Areiel explained. “I would go after her to ease my
own guilt. She wants the issue dropped and for now, that’s probably best. I’m...I’m going to go
to the kitchens and find us something to eat, myself. I think I need to clear my head.”

“I didn’t mean to attack you the way that I did,” Alleria said before Areiel had a chance to
attempt to escape the situation. “I don’t want to lose you, either. I suppose I have my own selfish
motivations, whether or not I like to admit that.”

“It’s normal to be selfish,” Areiel sighed. “We’re all in a rather self-preserving mode of
operation right now. That tends to happen during times of impending doom.”

“Thank you,” Alleria said quietly, and Areiel smiled at her and reached out to brush a hand
through her hair - golden as ever even in the dimly lit hallway and almost as wild in its waves as
it had been when she was young.

“Would you like me to fetch you something special while I’m down there?” She asked with a
smile. A small one, but a smile, nonetheless.

“Can you see if Sylann’s made any barley bread?” Alleria asked. “I’ve been in the field for so
long I haven’t had any fresh bread in ages.”
“Of course, I can,” Areiel said, and her little smile shifted into something a little broader.

“You look exhausted,” Sylann said as she placed two still-warm loaves of bread into the basket
she’d already placed half a wheel of cheese and some cured meats in.

Areiel nodded silently as she looked down at the bundle being packed for the would-be war
council holed away in Lireesa’s tower. “I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t.”

“She’s gone, isn’t she?” Sylann asked as she folded the linen that lined the basked over the food
she’d packed away so neatly. “Lireesa.”

Areiel’s eyes went wide as she looked up at Sylann over the wood-block countertop they’d been
standing over. She’d been so glad to come here. To get away for a moment to the blissful
warmth of the bread ovens and the company of an old friend. She’d forgotten just how well that
old friend knew her.

“Don’t look so stricken, Areiel,” Sylann chided gently. “I haven’t been asked for any of her
private wine stock in two days, now. I’ve been siphoning it off so as to not raise suspicion. I’ve
even sent up a few of her favorite meals. You likely haven’t noticed, or they were intercepted by
whoever else you have up there with you. Either way, I figured if the court hasn’t been abuzz
with news of the Queen’s whereabouts, it wasn’t something everyone ought to know.”

Areiel let out a shuddering sigh of relief and slumped over the counter. She was mid-way
through running her hands over her hair when she felt a presence at her side. A hand stroking
along her back and then guiding her into a hug.

“I needn’t ask you how you’re taking it,” Sylann said against Areiel’s temple as Areiel slowly
went lax in her arms and leaned into her for all the support she was offering. “So I won’t. Just
know that I know how you must feel.”

“Thank you,” Areiel whispered against Sylann’s shoulder. “I feel as though I’m going mad.”

“You should’ve come to me sooner,” Sylann said, her voice just as quiet as Areiel’s. “I’ve
known you nearly all my life, Areiel. Why you thought I wouldn’t understand your pain for her
loss is beyond me. Is she…-”

“No,” Areiel said quickly, pulling back and looking into Sylann’s eyes earnestly. “No, she isn’t.”

Sylann smiled softly and nodded. “Alright. Alright, that’s a start then, isn’t it?”

Areiel was rather confused when Sylann reached out to her and ran her thumbs softly over her
cheeks. She hadn’t even realized she’d begun to cry.

“I suppose it is,” Areiel conceded. “I just don’t know what I’ll do. Perhaps I shouldn’t be talking
about this with you. Am I being insensitive?”

“As though I haven’t been fully aware of how you yearn for her the entire time I’ve known
you,” Sylann said, and she might have laughed if it would’ve been at all appropriate. “And...has
anything changed on that front?”
Areiel looked away, her eyes glistening once again with tears as her every thought was suddenly
flooded with the desperation of the kiss they’d shared near the border. Of Lireesa clinging to her
for all she was worth. Of the promise she’d made. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” Sylann whispered, reaching out to cup Areiel’s cheek in her palm. “I can’t think of
anything that would bring me greater joy than to see her love you the way that you have loved
her. I hope to see that very soon.”

Areiel nodded and her mouth became a flat line when her lower lip began to quiver, but she
quickly drew in a sharp, deep breath and reached for the basket.

“Give the children my love, Areiel,” Sylann said as she pressed her hand against Areiel’s chest,
willing whatever strength she had left in these dark times into Areiel, as though that was a thing
that she could do. “And know that I am right here as I’ve always been baking bread and yelling
at what few staff I have left, now.”

“What’s happened to your staff?” Areiel asked with a furrow between her brows and a look of
alarm on her face.

“Many of them are sick like we all are. The ones who have spent their life in court, especially.
It’s becoming harder for them to find their way in to work so early in the mornings.”

“And you?” Areiel asked, worry suddenly flooding her. “Are you sick?”

“I’ve run this kitchen since this palace was built, Areiel,” Sylann scoffed. “I don’t have time to
be sick. Now go bring your pilfered goods to the tower.”

Areiel stayed there for a moment because the thought of leaving a place she’d wanted so terribly
to find comfort in was awful. Eventually, though, she left - because the fact that she’d found so
little comfort was almost worse.

Lireesa hung limply from her chains dragging slow, ragged breaths into her already-burning
lungs as Malande’s pleas and her screams echoed through her half-broken mind. Tears streaked
through the filth caked on her face. There was a fresh tray of porridge in front of her - still just
out of reach. As though she had an appetite to begin with.

“Hello, my Wild One.”

“Stop,” Lireesa whispered through dry, cracked lips. “I cannot take another moment of this.
Leave me.”

Malande’s feet made no noise on the wet stone floor as she passed through the bars of the cell
and knelt very near to Lireesa.

“I would give you my strength if it were but mine to give,” Malande said gently. “Only know
that I suffer no longer. Only know that I have never blamed you because it was never your
fault.”

Lireesa lifted her head slowly. So, so slowly. She tried to focus through her blurred vision. She
tried until, finally, her eyes came to rest upon her wife - ethereal and barely-there.
“Malande,” she gasped, her lower lip trembling. “Please.”

“Do not let them see you cry,” Malande said, tilting her head. “There will be time for tears, my
love. Now is not then.”

Lireesa shook her head and the motion blackened her vision for a moment. When she opened her
eyes again, she was alone. But not for long. She wished for nothing but death when the footsteps
faded again, if they’d ever been real at all.

She felt her body fading. Each breath came with a crackle from deep within her lungs. She could
no longer feel her hands. Her arms. Her legs. She could scarcely feel herself.

But she knew as she had known when she’d left the palace that her death was merely a tool in
her arsenal. A tool she also knew she had to use before she didn’t have the strength left to do so.

She drew in another breath - this one deeper - past the ache in her ailing lungs into the very core
of her being. And she bellowed the name of her captor with such power that her eyes were alight
with it and her own magic licked at the wards that were binding her.

“I know that you are fearful,” Sylvanas’s voice boomed over the gathering of troops and subjects
alike from beneath the unbearable weight of Lireesa’s circlet. “Know that you are not alone in
your fear. Know, too, that we will prevail as we always have. Know that I was born to see this
kingdom thrive. To see its subjects thrive no matter what it might cost me. My mother has given
everything to try and shield us from harm. From discomfort. From loss. But the time has come
for us to face all of it. To bring harm to those that would bring harm to us. To bring them
discomfort such as they have never known. To bring them loss unimaginable. It is time to
remind them that Quel’Thalas has fangs. It is also time for us to remember that we do, too.”

The mutterings that had filled the banquet hall had fallen silent halfway through Sylvanas’s
powerfully delivered words. There were no cheers. No raucous applause. Everyone gathered had
just found out that their queen was lost and that the daughter of Quel’Thalas would be leading
them to war come morning. This was no time for celebration.

Sylvanas looked over the faces that were staring up at her from the dais she was standing on for
a while longer before she stepped down from it to stand in front of them, instead, with Liadrin
and Areiel still flanking her - stoic and strong and silent. A united front even in their grief.
Liadrin, in her armor, shining and gold and resplendent. Areiel, in her formal uniform - dug free
from a chest and serviced just that morning.

Sylvanas’s own royal blue and gold regalia was still in her Generals’ suite. She wore, instead,
black leathers with silver adornments that matched the circlet that hung heavy on her brow
holding her platinum hair back away from her face to make her look older and her features
sharper and more severe. She wore what her mother might have. Queens’ colors.

She returned the eye contact of a few who were staring at her in near-disbelief and she refused to
shrink down in the face of their scrutiny.

“The time for waiting is over,” Sylvanas told them all - her voice shifting from the commanding
tone she’d only just held into something a little softer, yet no less filled with the confidence she
didn’t feel an ounce of. “The time for retribution is now. My hands will be the bloodiest hands
on the battlefield, you have my word.”

“For Quel’Thalas.”

A voice that sounded as sure as hers did sounded from the center of the gathering. Her eyes lit
on Rommath in surprise. She hadn’t heard from the old mage in so long. He had long since
retired, and even then, he could no longer work his spells so it mattered little.

“I yet know how to wield a sword,” he continued, his voice a little louder, now, as those familiar
with his storied prowess looked on in surprise. “And I would wield it for my kingdom, for my
people and for my queen. Both of them. To my last breath.”

“For Quel’Thalas,” another voice echoed. This one a new inductee to Liadrin’s knighthood. So
few months ago he had been full of pride and youthful hope for his future in his new role. Now,
his tone was grave. Grave, but sure.

Soon, nearly everyone in the room had echoed their sentiments from rangers greying with age to
court mages who hadn’t seen hardship in their lifetime.

“Thank you,” Sylvanas said once everyone had grown quiet again. “Make ready. We march for
Zul’Aman come dawn.”
 Undone

“That'll be all,” Sylvanas said quietly but sternly to the dressers that had helped her don her
armor. Her full General’s regalia - shining blue and gold. The perfect target.

“Of course, Majesty,” the younger man of the two responded gently with a somber bow. Even as
young as he was, he'd still been dressing her mother since before Sylvanas was born. She'd
grown up around him. She knew him well enough to recognize the heartache he was concealing.

“You needn't call me that,” Sylvanas said as her gaze in her mirror shifted to find his looking
back at her in turn. The older of them had already left the two of them alone. “Not here.”

“You are my queen, Sylvanas,” he said in a gentle tone. “And I am proud to address you as
such.”

“Very well,” Sylvanas responded, and when he looked about to say something else, she lifted a
hand. “I...I appreciate your company, truly. But I would like very much to be alone before I’m
due in the courtyard.”

“Of course,” He responded quickly, and all the words he wanted so terribly to say remained
stuck in his throat. “Come home to us.”
Sylvanas leveled a gaze at him with her brow furrowed as she adjusted her sword belt and
nodded faintly. He wasn’t satisfied, but he left nonetheless. Sylvanas didn’t have time to think
about what he must be feeling. His grief and his concern were stifling to her. Overwhelming to
her.

She turned slowly towards the mirror she’d been looking in while her armorers had been tending
to her but before she began making finishing touches, she caught sight of a little book on the
table beside the bed. Jaina’s side of the bed.

Almost immediately, she felt the dam begin to break. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes as
she took a single step towards the book and picked it up in her hands. She became frustrated
when she couldn’t feel it through the thick leather of her gloves and, in a fit of irritation, she put
it back down and began working at the buckles that held them on even as tears left stains on
them when she lifted them to her mouth in an attempt to use her teeth when her hands wouldn’t
do.

“Let me help you,” Areiel said gently from the doorway of her bedroom, and Sylvanas went
absolutely still for a moment before she slowly lowered her wrist from her mouth where she’d
been tugging at a strap with her fangs.

“I don’t need help,” Sylvanas whispered a little breathlessly. She sounded half-choked with the
sheer force of will she was exerting in her attempt to reign her emotions back in. “I’m just
finishing up, here. I’ll see you in the courtyard.”

Areiel frowned as she looked at Sylvanas’s reflection in the mirror and debated giving her the
space she asked for before she reminded herself she’d been doing that since Sylvanas was born.
Giving her too much space. Space she hadn’t even asked for. Space and lies and a host of other
things she wasn’t entirely sure how much time she had left to make up for.

“I’m not leaving,” Areiel responded in a whisper as she started to approach. Her own armor was
lighter than Sylvanas’s, who wore a mix between what a ranger and one of Liadrin’s knights
might wear.

“I overhear one conversation and suddenly you think you can mother me,” Sylvanas snapped.
“As though my mother isn’t in Zul’Aman right now suffering god knows what if she’s even
alive.”

“Hey,” Areiel whispered as she came to a stop beside Sylvanas and reached out for her hands to
stop her rather desperate attempts at getting her gloves off. “Here.”

Sylvanas was tense and still again as Areiel unbuckled her gloves for her with practiced ease and
tossed them aside quickly before she reached for the book and pressed it into Sylvanas’s hands.

“Is this Jaina’s book?” Areiel asked in a murmur as she lifted both her hands to stroke
Sylvanas’s hair away from her face. “One of her favorites?”

“Yes,” Sylvanas whispered breathlessly as she looked down at the well-worn little volume.
“It’s...she read it every night. There were times I would wake and put it away for her because
she fell asleep with it open on her chest.”

Areiel nodded softly and lowered her hands to close them around Sylvanas’s and the book.
“You aren’t supposed to see me like this,” Sylvanas gasped as she finally turned to face Areiel.
She was holding the book so tightly her knuckles had turned white. “No one is supposed to see
me like this.”

“Then think of me as something other than no one,” Areiel said as she reached for Sylvanas’s
sides to check the buckles of her leather and steel cuirass. This made it all the easier to take a
single step forward and pull Sylvanas rather firmly into her arms.

As Sylvanas stood there with Jaina’s book clasped in her hands between them, one might have
wondered how no one ever realized just how closely they were tied. Areiel was a little taller and
a little leaner, but that was all.

Sylvanas relented after only a moment or two. She was strong. Too strong, at times. But right
now, all of that bled from her by way of a hoarse sob that she buried in Areiel’s shoulder as she
finally went almost limp in her arms.

“It's okay to be frightened,” Areiel whispered as she cradled the back of Sylvanas’s head in one
of her hands. “I'm frightened, too.”

“I'm not scared for myself,” Sylvanas managed to choke out, still unwilling to be seen as
anything less than exactly what and who she was supposed to be.

“I am,” Areiel said gently even as she clutched Sylvanas’s cloak in her hand against her back.
“I'm scared I might lose everyone I love. I'm scared I might survive it, because I know I wouldn't
survive the aftermath of it.”

Sylvanas’s entire body shuddered as she hung in the strength of Areiel’s arm wrapped around
her back.

“That's what I'm scared of, too,” Sylvanas admitted, and Areiel turned her head to press a kiss
against her temple before she pulled back slowly, though she stayed close enough to support her.
General’s armor was terribly heavy when one’s entire body was shaking, after all, and Areiel had
strength to spare now that her leg was mended.

“I won't let anything happen to you or to Jaina,” Areiel whispered as she lifted a hand to rest
beneath Sylvanas’s chin. “I've only just gotten you. I won't lose you before I've had a chance to
make things right.”

“And Mother?” Sylvanas asked quietly, and Areiel swallowed so hard Sylvanas felt her throat
shift against her temple.

“Her, too,” Areiel whispered with a nod, because she couldn't envision a world without Lireesa
in it. Not anymore. Not for a long, long time, now.

“We should go to the courtyard,” Sylvanas finally said before she released a long, trembling
sigh. Before she could even reach for her gloves, Areiel was helping her on with them with the
most care in the world - going as far as to check the reticulation of her fingers once they were
buckled all while Sylvanas watched quietly. Once Areiel was satisfied, she picked up Jaina’s
little book and tucked it carefully into the dark leather pouch hanging from Sylvanas’s belt.
“Keep her with you,” Areiel said with a soft smile as she quickly cupped Sylvanas’s face in her
hand.

Sylvanas could've cried all over again if Areiel didn't finally take her leave.

“You called, Queen of Thieves?” Zul’jin drawled lazily as he slowed his already languid pace to
a stop in front of Lireesa’s cell.

Lireesa could scarcely focus on his outline. She almost couldn't comprehend his words despite
how she'd known his language for millennia.

“That I did, Chieftain of Nothing,” Lireesa rasped in a voice that was nearly gone.

“Had a change of heart, then?” Zul’jin asked. Lireesa couldn't make out the vile grin that spread
across his face but she could hear it in his voice.

“Not at all,” Lireesa grated out, wincing as a pain shot through her right arm towards her chest.
It'd been doing that since this morning. If she'd had a tomorrow to worry about, she might have
been concerned about life after the loss of a hand. The damage from the metal cuffs that had
been supporting her weight since she could no longer support it herself was just too severe. Had
gone untreated for too long.

She stood, anyway. Dragged herself to her feet with her ruined wrists and narrowed her eyes at
him through the cell bars. She finally managed to focus on him, then. On the look of agitation on
his face.

“You be dying, Lireesa,” Zul'jin said as he took a step closer and wrapped his hands around the
bars. “You know this. Lift your foul magic from this place and I may yet have a change of
heart.”

“I know I am dying,” Lireesa said, pulling her lips back into an almost-snarl that left her fangs
exposed. Between her wild, matted hair and her gaunt, bloodied appearance, Zul'jin felt a sudden
desire to step back from her. Only, he couldn't. His hands were locked to the bars he'd been
holding so surely he couldn't tell where he ended and the rusted, mossy metal began. “I just
never intended to go alone.”

“What is this?” Zul'jin asked as he tugged again at the bars, finding himself utterly unable to let
them go. “You are warded. You have no power here.”

“On the contrary,” Lireesa said, rolling her shoulders as her eyes blazed to life. She called flame
to her and it danced around her hands even as Zul'jin began to panic. “All the power here is
mine.”

“Guards!”

That’s what Zul'jin would've shouted if Lireesa hadn't taken his voice from him before he had a
chance.

“Do you know what I find endlessly amusing about all this, Troll?”
He tugged again at the bars and they began to flex with his strength even as his shoulders
threatened to dislocate.

“When I died, you were always going to lose what was left of this paltry kingdom that you built
with the blood of my people while you hunted us down in packs since I was naught but a babe,”
she said as the cuffs around her wrists turned molted and began dripping from her skin to the
floor. The muck at her feet sizzled as the liquid metal hit it and began to cool. “Did you truly
think I would allow my daughters to bear the burden of Zul’Aman after my death? You've
merely expedited your own end, Zul’jin. And you've brought me here to witness it with my own
eyes. I should thank you.”

Lireesa waved her left hand because she couldn't even feel her right and Zul’jin parted his lips to
drag in a desperate breath.

“You are no better, Witch,” Zul’jin gasped. “You are no less a murderer and twice the liar.”

Lireesa’s lips quirked as the flames licking at her hands spread along her arms while she walked
forward until they were face-to-face through her bars.

“I am so much worse than that,” she whispered. “Die knowing you have brought about your own
destruction yet again.”

“You will not rest easy,” Zul’jin spat bitterly. “No one has ever deserved eternal torment more
than you.”

“You think I wasn't already there?” Lireesa asked, feigning a look of sympathy for his lack of
understanding. “You think you didn't put me there, yourself when you took her from me?”

“You are mad,” Zul'jin spat, and Lireesa held his gaze evenly even as the heat from the flames
she commanded seared at her own skin without remorse.

“Yes,” Lireesa said with a smile. “Quite. Join me.”

In a blinding flash, the fire Lireesa had been holding at bay was unleashed in an explosion of
millennia of pain and rage.

And yet, Lireesa felt nothing. Where she expected to find the excruciating moments before the
darkness took her, there was...nothing. Time had slowed to a stop and she could see Zul'jin’s
half-burned face in front of her contorted in his suffering. Even the fireball that had expanded
from her to begin filling the room and the entirety of Zul’Aman beyond was scarcely moving.

The magic that had brought this about was so powerful, Lireesa could taste it on her tongue. She
could feel it in every fiber of her being.

“Jaina,” the name left her lips in a gasp, and no sooner had she said it than she realized the
explosion had illuminated Jaina behind Zul’jin. She was walking in real time through the flames,
untouched and with a spiral of runes spinning and twisting from her outstretched hand and
splayed fingertips. Her eyes glowed purple and blue. A mix of all the magic that had been
funneled here and her own considerable reserves. Everything she was capable of with such
arcane energy at her command and more.
But even as nigh-impossible a display as it was, there was sweat dripping from her every pore
and her limbs were shaking and unsteady. The spell was close to breaking against the force of
Lireesa’s own, but it was far too late, now, to pull it back.

“Get out!” Lireesa shrieked in her panic, and her own voice sounded odd to her in the absence of
any other sound save the strange, low rushing sound of fire a roaring slowed to nothing.

“Let me in!” Jaina shouted through her clenched teeth as tears stung at her eyes. “I'm not leaving
without you!”

“I told you, my Wild One,” a voice Lireesa thought she would never hear again met her ears. A
soft, sweet voice. “It isn't time yet.”

If Jaina weren't currently being torn asunder, she might have been shocked at the sight of the
radiant elven woman who has just appeared beside Lireesa. Tall and resplendent despite the
darkness and flame this place was engulfed in.

No sooner had she appeared than she was gone, and, in that exact moment, Jaina felt Lireesa’s
mind open to her. She wasn't even entirely sure it had been by Lireesa’s choosing. All she had
time to do was make the connection and think hard about the last closest, safest place she could
remember.

Sylvanas lifted one of her hands into a fist above her head as her horse and all the others of their
calvary balked almost in unison. It was so silent in the snow, then, that they could've heard a pin
drop leagues away.

What they heard, instead, was terrifying. And what they saw? Infinitely worse.

The Amani capitol went from looming menacingly in the distance to the most terrible thing
Sylvanas had ever seen in mere moments. The devastation shook the ground at their feet and the
sky was illuminated in angry reds and oranges and then smoke turned day into night so quickly
it was all they could do just to continue to see until their eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness.

Before there had even been any time for them to gather their wits again, the ground lurched
beneath them once more. Only, it wasn't the ground at all. Their horses reared and went wild-
eyed as the dormant ley lines far beneath them suddenly burst into life.

Sylvanas could feel the magic seeping up through the earth into her very core even as she tugged
sharply at her horse’s reins to turn him. Her wild, terrified eyes settled on Silvermoon in the
distance and, even as she looked on in shock and awe, she saw something no one had seen since
before her lifetime.

A pillar of light suddenly reached for the heavens themselves from the direction of the Queen’s
Spire. She knew the location immediately. The Sunwell.

Her eyes welled with tears at the sight of it. She had never seen anything like it. She felt warm
for the first time in months.

And then she realized.

And then she remembered.

“Ride!” She shouted, her ears pressed back against her head and her eyes full of fear and
desperation as she kicked her horse into a blinding pace in the direction of what was left of the
ruined Northern empire.

Towards her mother.

Towards Jaina.

Jaina let out a sputtering breath as the snow she landed in sizzled against the heat of her own
skin and her more-than-singed robes. Her lungs were burning. So were her eyes. With tears and
sweat and smoke alike.

“Lireesa,” She managed to choke out as she pushed herself onto her hands and knees and looked
around the ridge she'd landed on.

She began to crawl forward until she saw a truly terrible sight indeed.

Lireesa in the distance, unmoving. Her clothing burnt and the ends of her hair still smoking.

With a sob that both sounded and felt hideous to her own ears, Jaina pushed herself up only to
fall again right back into the snow. Over and over. Again and again until she was finally at
Lireesa’s side rolling her onto her back.

“Please,” Jaina whimpered, packing as much snow as she could manage onto her burned arms
and over her chest in a desperate attempt to stop the damage that had already been done to her.
“Lireesa, please. Please. I promised her. I promised, I-”

“Shh, child,” Lireesa whispered as her brow suddenly furrowed, though her eyes remained
tightly shut. “My head.”

“Your head,” Jaina gasped as she finally looked down at all the places her clothing had been
burnt through. “Your…”

She trailed off at the sight of Lireesa’s hand. Or where a hand should've been. What must have,
at some point, been a hand.

Her stomach almost turned at the sight of the ruined, blackened thing now attached to Lireesa’s
arm and Lireesa, who had finally opened her eyes to see what Jaina was doing, followed her
gaze.

“That's not ideal,” Lireesa husked.

“Don't look at it!” Jaina insisted rather quickly.

“And why not?” Lireesa asked. “It's mine, after all.”

“Lireesa, stop it! Be still!”

“Jaina, I'm perfectly-” Lireesa trailed off as she tried to sit up and promptly lost any semblance
of the consciousness she'd only just regained.

Jaina took a deep breath, thankful Lireesa’s landing had been in the forgiving softness of the
snow. Her own head was split in two. She was sure of it. But Lireesa’s breathing was shallow
and sporadic and she knew she wasn't done. Not yet. She had to get to Silvermoon somehow.

She lifted a hand to create a portal and found that even the beginnings of the spell to do so made
every neuron in her brain feel like it was it's own individual storm of pain.

She shut her eyes tightly as even the effort had her doubled over Lireesa’s barely-alive form in
the snow.

Jaina took in another deep breath and lifted herself to her knees even as she wrapped her arms
around Lireesa’s back and, with every ounce of strength she didn't even know she yet had,
dragged her slight frame over her shoulder.

Standing felt impossible. Until she did it. Walking? There was absolutely no feasible way. And
yet, she took a step. And then another. And then, many more until she finally reached the crest
of her little snow-covered ridge only to be met with a truly terrifying sight, as though she hadn't
been met with enough of those over the past days.

“Put me down. You're…” Lireesa groaned from Jaina’s shoulder and her entire body shook.
“Remind me...to tell you...how proud I-”

“Lireesa,” Jaina whispered as she helped Lireesa down onto her feet and got one of her arms
around her own shoulders to support her against her side. “What is that?”

Lireesa lifted her head to look out over the ridge as quickly as she could without passing out
again, and what little air there was in her lungs left them, entirely.

An army. A mounted cavalry first with dozens upon dozens of their finest war beasts’ polished,
sharpened battle horns glinting red and angry in the distance - reflected the fires of Zul’Aman
back at them. Lireesa could see them more clearly than Jaina even in her haze. And now, she
could hear them. The hooves pounding in the snow as the blue and gold banners of Quel’Thalas
snapped to and fro in the wind.

There were foot soldiers behind. Too many to count. Far too many.

“Sylvanas,” Lireesa sighed.

“Thank the Gods,” Jaina gasped as she began descending the incline on the other side of the
ridge in the direction of the army.

“Hold!” Sylvanas shouted as she pulled back at her reigns at the sight of something moving in
the distance. The ache of loss and devastation that she'd been burying as deeply within herself as
she could manage reminded her painfully of its existence once she was no longer clinging to her
saddle.
Areiel whistled shrilly behind herself and Liadrin on her horse at the head of the ground troops
behind relayed the sound until their entire army was halted.

“Hail!” Sylvanas shouted as she pushed her horse forward again despite Areiel’s hand reaching
to stop her. “The full might of the Queen’s army demands to know why you trespass upon these
lands!”

“Trespass!?” Jaina shouted incredulously, hearing Sylvanas’s every word clearly despite their
distance. There were many reasons for her position as General. Her voice was a significant one.

Even while Sylvanas was still sitting atop her horse, stunned, Areiel came thundering past her on
her own bent so low over his neck his mane was whipping her face. She didn't care. She'd never
ridden so hard in her life.

Sylvanas was hot on her heels soon, and they left puffs of pulverized snow in their wake as their
army stirred restlessly behind them.

A few yards away, Sylvanas vaulted from her saddle and hit the ground running as Jaina fell to
her knees still holding tightly onto Lireesa in an attempt to keep her out of the snow.

“Jaina!” Sylvanas shouted as she dropped down into the snow. She stopped before she reached
out, her eyes falling to the broken-looking body of her mother in her arms.

“She's alive,” Jaina said quickly even as tears began freezing on her lashes. “We need to get her
back to the palace. I...I don't know how long-”

“I'll take her,” Areiel said gravely, her face an unreadable mask as she walked up to them. She
leaned down and gathered Lireesa into her arms with such ease it left Jaina rather shocked. Only
then did Sylvanas reach for Jaina and pull her close.

“I feared the worst when I saw the explosion,” Sylvanas said as she tore her fur-lined cloak from
her own shoulders to wrap Jaina in it tightly.

“I told you I would come back,” Jaina whispered as the illness and the pain of the rather extreme
over-exertion she'd put herself through began to take hold of her. “I can't make a portal. I tried.”

Areiel looked down at them still holding Lireesa in her arms, a look of helpless desperation
slowly creeping onto her face.

“I can try,” Sylvanas said, blinking tears from her eyes as she set her sights on Silvermoon in the
far distance. On the pillar of energy splitting the very sky above it.

She stretched out a hand and began whispering incantations she hadn't uttered in so long they'd
been all but forgotten. Slowly but surely, the snow-haze in front of them twisted and shifted and
changed into the freshly-swept Royal courtyard their troops had only just assembled in at dawn.

“It won't last,” Sylvanas said, her voice trembling in shock at what she'd just managed to do.

“Liadrin will lead our troops home,” Areiel said in response before she let out a whistle much
different than the one Sylvanas had early. She'd even cupped a hand over Lireesa’s burn-
reddened ear before she began the series of sharp, concise intonations. “We have to get them
back. Now.”

In the distance, Liadrin began shouting the orders to turn towards home, and Areiel turned to
step through the wavering, unsteady portal even as Lireesa let out a soft sound of what could
only be described as agony against her chest.

“We’re home,” Areiel whispered to her when her boots met freshly-swept cobbles and the few
groundskeepers still lingering in the courtyard stared at what was happening before their very
eyes. As though the return of the Sunwell to its full power hadn't been enough of a sight to
behold, Areiel, her dark cloak and silvered hair whipping in the wind, had just walked through a
rather strange portal holding a body so battered it shouldn't have been alive at all. But it was.
And that body was their Queen. Their former, presumed-to-be-dead, Queen.

Sylvanas ruined the effect of it all rather handily when she stumbled, none-too-gracefully, into
the courtyard at Areiel’s heels with Jaina clinging weakly to her neck.
 To Live

“What day is it?” Jaina’s voice was hoarse as the firelit bedroom slowly came into focus. She'd
been talking to herself, mostly, but within an instant, the soft beating of bare feet against marble
floors signaled Sylvanas’s imminent arrival.

“Are you okay?” Sylvanas asked rather urgently as she climbed into the bed to kneel at Jaina’s
side.

Jaina blinked up at her. She looked stricken.

“Sylvanas, what's the matter?” She paled. “Lireesa…”

“Mother is mostly fine,” Sylvanas said quickly. “It's only that I wanted to be here when you
woke.”

Jaina let out a sigh of relief and nodded her understanding. She didn't have the strength just yet
to call Sylvanas silly, though she was absolutely that.

“How long have I been like this?” Jaina asked, attempting to reach for Sylvanas and then finding
herself wrapped in so many blankets it was almost comical.
“This is the sixth day,” Sylvanas murmured, folding her fidgeting hands in her lap and clasping
them there tightly. “The healers have been taking care of you. Liadrin herself was here for the
first few days. That's why you haven't starved or died of thirst.”

“I feel like I am very much starving and dying of thirst,” Jaina said with a little laugh, though
she finally managed to untangle one of her arms so that she could grab Sylvanas’s shirt quickly
enough to stop her leaving.

“Stay,” Jaina whispered, sounding suddenly deeply sincere and serious. “I've...I've had the most
terrible nightmares.”

Sylvanas slowly worked her way down onto the bed from her knees so that she was sitting
against Jaina’s side all while Jaina sought out her hand to hold onto it tightly.

Jaina couldn't have imagined a better sigh to wake to than this. Sylvanas, unscathed, in a loose,
dark shirt and soft leggings with her hair hanging in waves against her shoulders. And all of her
aglow with the soft firelight of their bedroom hearth. The gentle light complimented everything
about her so well. Jaina tried her best not to think too hard about the fire, itself.

“You're acting so strange,” Jaina whispered as she stroked the side of her wife’s hand with her
thumb.

“I'm sorry,” Sylvanas said quickly and without even thinking about her apology before it fell
unbidden from her lips. She took a deep breath and did her best to explain. “They kept telling
me that you were fine. Liadrin kept you asleep, herself. She said you wouldn't be able to
withstand the pain of waking until your pathways had healed. That the damage was too great for
someone who should, for all intents and purposes, be mortal.”

Jaina looked at her wife in confusion. “Should?” She asked.

“Well, there simply isn't any way a human could've survived the power of death magic, much
less manipulated it in any manner at all.”

Jaina shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Despite the lingering ache in her head, her own
mortality and ‘death magic’, whatever that was, seemed very pressing bits of information to
have.

“What kind of magic, now?” Jaina asked as she opened her eyes, again.

Sylvanas looked away towards the fire and Jaina gave her hand a gentle, coaxing squeeze.

“Death magic. The spell my mother cast. It's a kind of destruction so powerful, it can only be
brought about through great suffering. The caster doesn't survive such a thing.”

“Go on,” Jaina murmured. “Please.”

“Anyway, unbeknownst to us, had she faded and passed in the palace, Zul’Aman still would
have fallen. Her spells would have destroyed it utterly upon her death. This was worked into the
very enchantments she placed upon it when she sealed them within their borders.”
“Then why sacrifice herself?” Jaina asked with a deep furrow between her brows. “Why not
just...just-”

“For you,” Sylvanas responded before Jaina had to scramble for any more words. “For me.”

Jaina fell silent and bit her lower lip for a moment before she looked down at Sylvanas’s hand in
her own. Sylvanas did the same as she continued.

“As for your supposedly being a run-of-the-mill mortal human, that really doesn’t seem to be in
the cards for you,” Sylvanas shook her head and a soft smile came to settle on her otherwise
exhausted face. “We thought the Sunwell might affect you. We aren’t so sure, anymore, if that’s
what it is. All we know is that you are, without a singular doubt, the most powerful wielder of
magic any of us has ever encountered.”

“But, Lireesa…” Jaina trailed off in disbelief.

“Mother could lay an entire kingdom to waste,” Sylvanas said almost gravely as the smile faded
from her. “Do you not understand what you stepped into the middle of? What you survived?”

Jaina stared into Sylvanas’s eyes as they raised to meet her own and shook her head as she
whispered a simple ‘no’.

“There is no more Zul’Aman, Jaina,” Sylvanas said. “There is nothing there, now. No villages.
No keeps. Even the forests of the far North are no more. A smoldering crater is all that remains
of a kingdom that rivaled Quel’Thalas in its more prosperous days.”

Jaina swallowed thickly as Sylvanas’s words fell heavy on her ears and her heart. Even as she
stared at her, Sylvanas reached out and ran her fingertips through the golden hair that rested
against Jaina’s cheek.

With a deep breath, she reached for the mirror on the bedside table and handed it to Jaina.

“And before you go to the bathroom and see your reflection there and ask me why I didn’t tell
you…”

Jaina took the mirror in her free hand and narrowed her eyes at her reflection. She wondered for
a moment what kind of glamour had been placed on her. She even let go of Sylvanas’s hand and
reached to touch the meager patch of blonde hair still left near her temple before she touched the
white strands everywhere else wearily.

Quickly, she placed the mirror aside and rested her head back against her pillow.

Sylvanas looked at her questioningly and Jaina reached for her hand again.

“My mother is going to hate it,” Jaina whispered as she twined their fingers together and drew
Sylvanas’s hand to her lips to brush them against her knuckles. “And I find that amusing.”

Sylvanas let out a sigh of relief and scooted closer to Jaina. She nearly shattered when Jaina’s
free hand found her side through her shirt and stroked slowly around to her back.
“I missed you so terribly,” Sylvanas whispered as she lowered her head until her forehead rested
against Jaina’s. “A century of life and I was lost without you in mere days.”

“I can tell,” Jaina murmured, relinquishing her wife’s hand to reach for the back of her neck to
keep her close, instead. “This room is a mess.”

And that was true. Even Sylvanas’s armor from the day of their would-be war was still laying in
pieces on the floor.

“I didn’t want anyone in here cleaning. I didn’t want to risk them waking you. I-”

“Is that my book?” Jaina asked suddenly as she eyed that very pile of armor from the corner of
her eye. She could see the very corner of its familiar spine peeking from one of the pouches on
the belt in the middle of the floor.

Sylvanas didn’t look. Her ears just wilted a bit more as she nodded.

“Areiel put it in my pouch before we left Silvermoon,” Sylvanas explained. “To have something
of you with me.”

Jaina cleared her throat but it did little to help the lump she suddenly felt there.

“Areiel is my mother, by the way,” Sylvanas sighed, and Jaina could hear the exhaustion in her
quiet voice so clearly it was deafening. “My other mother.”

“It’s been an eventful week,” Jaina said dryly as she brushed the lobe of Sylvanas’s ear gently
with her thumb.

“I missed you,” Sylvanas whispered, slowly lowering her face to rest against Jaina’s chest as she
slid her arms up the bed on either side of her so that she could be closer without resting any of
her weight against her. “I have never felt what I felt this past week. I have no desire to live a day
without you in my life.”

“Never again if I can help it,” Jaina reassured, and her voice was almost desperately sincere
despite everything. “I would hate to see what this place would look like if I were gone a month
instead of a handful of days.”

“I didn’t want them to wake you,” Sylvanas insisted. “The cleaners.”

Jaina smiled what was, perhaps, the most tired smile she’d ever managed in her life.

“Right, the cleaners,” she cooed into Sylvanas’s hair.

If Sylvanas was sulking, Jaina refused to acknowledge it as she slid her hand from her wife’s
neck into the soft silk of her hair and began stroking at her scalp with her fingertips.

“Lay down with me,” Jaina urged before she pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You look like
you haven't slept in days and you’ve just informed me I'm no longer or never have been mortal. I
think I can support the weight of an elf.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Sylvanas asked, sounding both adoring and scorned all at once.
“Nothing, Darling,” Jaina said, punctuating the lie with another kiss to her hair. “Only that
you're small enough to lay on me even if I'm not feeling well.”

One of Sylvanas’s ears twitched but she slowly unfolded her legs from beneath herself,
nonetheless. Jaina shifted only slightly to better accommodate her and she found herself wishing
there weren't so many blankets between them but sorely lacking the strength or energy to
remedy the situation.

“You look like you haven't slept in days,” Jaina whispered once Sylvanas settled down with her
head on Jaina’s pillow next to her own so they could better see each other.

“Areiel hasn't slept, either,” Sylvanas deflected, or at least attempted to.

“You said it's been six days,” Jaina pointed out incredulously. Sylvanas remained silent as she
looked into Jaina’s extremely worried and accusatory eyes.

“This must be an elf thing, hm?” Jaina asked, trying her best to understand in order to date the
alarm she was feeling.

“I mean...perhaps,” Sylvanas began as she slowly slid her arm around Jaina’s middle over the
blankets. “Or perhaps it's a bit of an elf thing and a bit of a worried half to death thing.”

Jaina sighed, but she couldn't say much. She wasn't sure how long a human could stay awake
without dying, but she'd likely push those limits as far as she could were the situation reversed.

“Will you tell me how she is, now?” Jaina asked carefully. “Lireesa.”

A troubled look crossed Sylvanas’s features and her lips parted as though she were about to
speak, but she couldn’t seem to find the words for a moment or two. Ever patient, Jaina waited
silently and ran her hand up and down along Sylvanas’s arm until Sylvanas finally found the
right words to start.

“She isn’t...she isn’t well,” Sylvanas began. “She’ll survive, but no one is sure what the cost of
that survival will be. Even with the magic restored to the healers, and even with Liadrin
spending every spare second consulting with them, she’s already lost much of her arm below her
elbow and she hasn’t so much as stirred since your return. Areiel hasn’t left her side. The
servants are saying she hadn’t even blinked. She’s refused every meal.”

“Perhaps I should go speak to her,” Jaina said quickly as the worry she was already feeling for
Sylvanas doubled over on itself so quickly she scarcely managed to stay on top of it all.
“Perhaps if I just go speak to her, she’ll at least try to rest or eat something. Anything.”

“She likely won’t even know you’re there,” Sylvanas said. “She’s scarcely able to speak to me
when I stop in.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaina whispered after a long stretch of silence, and when Sylvanas sought out her
eyes she realized just how close to crying Jaina was. “I tried so hard to find her more quickly.
That place was...Sylvanas, that place was terrible. I was so scared. And her magic was
everywhere. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from until I realized how deep the tendrils of it
went. Every crack and every crevice and I just…I didn’t feel her until she began working that
final spell. I’m so sorry. You must know that if I could’ve gotten to her more quickly I-”
“Jaina,” Sylvanas murmured her name almost urgently as she reached for her face to wipe the
tears that had begun to fall. “Jaina, look at me. Look at me, please.”

Jaina clenched her jaw so hard it only served to worsen the ache in her head, but she did as
Sylvanas asked and tried to regain her composure as she realized Sylvanas was now as close to
crying as she’d been just before the dam finally broke.

“She’s alive,” Sylvanas said adamantly. “Come what may, she is alive. And that is infinitely
more than she would’ve been otherwise. You’ve saved my family and you’ve saved my
kingdom. I am begging you to at least begin to realize how much you’ve done. For our kingdom
and for us.” Sylvanas gave Jaina’s hand a gentle squeeze to emphasize the word and its meaning.

“Okay,” Jaina breathed, though the word trembled as she said it. “I just want her to be alright. It
was so terrible. I’ve never heard such…pain as I heard in her voice as she wove the spell. She
sounded utterly mad with it.”

Jaina looked to be about to say more when her eyes widened and a soft gasp left her.

“...Jaina?” Sylvanas asked, lifting herself up onto her forearm so she could look down at her as
though she felt the need to brace herself for whatever was to come next.

“I’d almost forgotten,” Jaina whispered, trying to push herself up in her moment to clarity only
to find herself to dizzy to do much else aside from lay right back down - half at Sylvanas’s
urging, and half because she had little choice in the matter to begin with.

“Shh, Jaina. Rest. Please. What had you forgotten? You needn’t get up to speak to me. I can hear
you perfectly fine while you’re lying down.”

“I saw her,” Jaina said softly, the image of the woman in Lireesa’s sell suddenly emblazoned in
her mind. “The woman from your mother’s memories. The one that called her ‘Wild One’.”

Sylvanas’s breath stuck in her throat as she looked down at Jaina in disbelief.

“Jaina, that’s not-”

Jaina cut her off quickly and kept right on speaking. “Lireesa had closed her thoughts to me
when she saw me. She was trying to get me to leave. The woman opened them to me. I know
she did. I know the difference between something shared willingly and something forced, and
the woman didn’t give Lireesa a choice. It happened just before my control over my own spell
broke. Just in time for me to get us outside onto a ridge far enough away for us to survive the
blast.”

Sylvanas’s expression sobered and she suddenly felt almost as light-headed as Jaina had.
Enough so that she, too, ran out of options that didn’t involve laying right back down where she
had been before.

“Perhaps,” Sylvanas cleared her throat and licked her suddenly very dry lips in an effort to wet
them enough that she could speak with more clarity. “Perhaps one day you should tell her,” She
continued. “Maybe it would help.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jaina said, feeling a little better now that she’d gotten that bit of
information that felt so strangely important out of the muddled disarray that was her memory of
the past few days.

“But for now, I’d like it very much if you would rest. And perhaps let me send for something for
you to eat.”

“I’ll eat if you do,” Jaina bargained as her thoughts returned to Sylvanas’s welfare. “Because I
know you haven’t been eating, either.”

“I have,” Sylvanas reassured.

“Enough?” Jaina asked.

“...No.”

Areiel smiled at the artificer on her way into Lireesa’s rooms. It’d been nearly a month, now,
that they’d been home. Lireesa’s construct, though rushed, was one of the most stunning pieces
of work Areiel had ever seen come out of this kingdom. It functioned flawlessly and the
simplistic beauty in its silver color and the subtle, barely-there purple glow in every tiny,
articulate joint only served to heighten Lireesa’s ethereal beauty. At least, in Areiel’s opinion.

“I brought fresh bread from the kitchen,” Areiel announced as she shut the door behind herself
and looked across the room to the familiar sight of Lireesa sitting in her chair in front of the
window in the sun. Even a year ago she would’ve thought that the oddest sight. “Sylann sends
her regards.”

The fact that Lireesa had begun to seek out the sun now that spring had been restored to
Quel’Thalas by its newly-empowered court of mages was one of the only bits of solace Areiel
had to cling to.

Lireesa hadn’t spoken a single word. Her eyes slid over Areiel and her children in much the
same way they might slide over a flower in a garden. Barely-there acknowledgment and little
else.

“Does she?” Lireesa asked quietly. Her voice was shockingly smooth for as long as it had been
since she used it.

Areiel promptly dropped the linen-wrapped loaf of bread she was carrying in her shock and
reached down quickly to gather it from the floor. At least the fresh cheese and butter, Sylann had
sent in a bag still dangling from the crook of her elbow.

When Areiel looked back at Lireesa to see if she was just hearing things, Lireesa was smiling at
her over her shoulder. A soft, teasing smile.

“Are...you...yes,” Areiel stammered. “You spoke.”

“I felt like speaking today,” Lireesa said, and Areiel stayed where she was for a moment before
she finally cleared her throat and approached Lireesa. She pulled a nearby table over and began
unpacking their lunch.
Lireesa slowly looked over at her - focusing on the trembling of her hands - and reached out to
place her own over Areiel’s as she began tearing little bunks off their bread.

The metal of her construct was warm and smooth against Areiel’s skin and thrummed subtly
with magic. It felt nearly as alive as it might have when it had been flesh and bone. Perhaps
more alive in some ways.

“Why do you tremble so?” Lireesa asked as she ran her thumb across Areiel’s scarred knuckles.

“I-” Areiel’s voice nearly broke and she shook her head. “I didn't know that I would ever hear
your voice again. You haven't...I should probably send for Liadrin. She'll want to know that
whatever has happened has...I don't know. Happened.”

“I wasn't well,” Lireesa said simply. “I am feeling better.”

“Is it as simple as all that?” Areiel asked, trying to mask the disbelief and confusion on her face.
She'd never been any good at hiding things from Lireesa, unfortunately. “We were unsure what
damage had been done to your mind. Unsure if you were even fully aware.”

“I was and am aware,” Lireesa said, returning her construct to her lap to twine her fingers
delicately together. “I simply had much to consider.”

“Like what?” Areiel asked, her voice thick with emotion she was doing well to keep restrained.

“I suppose I had to decide whether or not to live, Areiel,” Lireesa explained as her attention
returned to her window. “And I suppose I decided to do just that.”

Areiel followed Lireesa’s gaze towards the window and looked out at the bright green leaves on
the various trees surrounding her garden. A garden she had long ago asked the groundskeepers
to stop tending.

“What made you decide to live?” Areiel asked as she reached for a small silver jar of cream
meant for Lireesa’s still-healing scars. The healers had worked miracles on her many times over,
but there were still some of the worst places left. Especially near the place where the construct
attached at her wrist. Lireesa didn’t even flinch as Areiel began gently massaging the angry-
looking pink skin there, though Areiel wasn’t fool enough to think these things didn’t hurt her a
great deal.

“My children, of course,” Lireesa said as she leaned her head back and blinked her eyes a few
times. Such a small sign of discomfort, but Areiel picked up on it anyway and moved to a
different part of her arm. “And you.”

Areiel nearly dropped the tin of salve from her hands, but perhaps the knowledge that it would
be much more catastrophic than the bread had earlier served to aid in her tenuous hold on it. She
managed not to, though her careful ministrations near the crook of Lireesa’s arm had slowed
nearly to a stop. She didn’t ask for elaboration. She wouldn’t prod Lireesa for reassurance. Not
after all she’d been through.

“Before I truly woke, I saw you. I know you sat at my bedside each day and each night and you
scarcely shut your eyes. I know Liadrin slipped something into your drink on the tenth day when
you began seeing things. I know you were furious with her when you woke, though you took her
all the way to the parlor to voice your grievances. I’m not sure if you didn’t want to disturb my
recovery, or if you didn’t want me to know how terribly you’d been caring for yourself.”

“Both,” Areiel whispered, and Lireesa reached for the salve to take it from her delicately and
place it aside.

Lireesa then gathered Areiel’s hands into her own and guided her to the front of her chair where
Areiel knelt before her almost immediately - holding both Lireesa’s hands in her own in her
blanket-covered lap.

“After I began moving around, I think at a certain point everyone but those closest to me began
to think I was lost, and even them, to some degree. But not you. I was standing in the parlor one
morning watching you brush out your hair. You went to put your brush on my vanity. I think you
meant to leave it. You stared at it for so long. Like the weight of the placement of your brush
was the heaviest burden you’ve ever borne. In the end, you put it away, again, in your bag.”

“Such a minute thing,” Areiel whispered, a little breathlessly. “Surely that’s not why-”

“I would like for you to leave your brush on my vanity, Areiel.”

Areiel sucked in a breath as quietly as she could, but it sounded like the gasp it very much was
even to her own ears.

“I would like to find your things about my rooms. Your wood carvings and your poems and your
boots. I want you here even when you are not here. I want to live. I haven’t in so very long. And
I think to live means to do it with you.”

The next time Areiel blinked, the tears finally bested her - falling hot and angry down her face
until Lireesa lifted her hands to cradle her cheeks and wipe them away each time a new one fell.

“When I asked you to ride to the border with me,” Lireesa continued as Areiel wrapped her
hands gently around her forearms. “It was selfish. But it wasn’t just because I wanted to feel like
a person, as I told you. It’s because there was always, always a part of me that loved you.
Perhaps, without being able to say it, I wanted to show you that. I wanted to make you
understand. I needed you to understand that I loved you so much I’m not sure what I might have
done if the darkness that clouds my very existence had erased you from my life. I’m not sure
that Quel’Thalas would have survived my grief.”

“You aren’t cursed, Lireesa,” Areiel gasped as she shifted closer to the chair on her knees and
wrapped her arms around Lireesa’s legs instead of her arms. She was half in her lap, now. “And
if you were, I wouldn’t care. I’ve never cared.”

“I know,” Lireesa whispered with a very faint smile as she slowly slipped her hands up the sides
of Areiel’s face to stroke through her silver hair, instead. “I know you would walk through fire
for me, Areiel, and I have spent...oh, centuries thinking I wouldn’t do the very same for you.
That it wouldn’t be possible for me to be moved enough.”

Areiel watched as Lireesa looked away. She stared in shock as a tear slid down her pale cheek.

“Lireesa, not everyone feels love in the same-”

“I would,” Lireesa gasped quickly before Areiel could continue. “I would do anything for you
just like I would do anything for the children. I would, Areiel. I would lay down my life for
you...and I would do it at the risk of my kingdom. And before I felt Sylvanas was ready, I...I
couldn’t risk that. So I stopped myself feeling, entirely. It took a long time. But I did it. I became
who you knew me as on your rare visits. I became who I was when you returned to court,
because I couldn’t afford to love and the people I loved couldn’t afford to be loved by me.”

Areiel couldn’t remember, suddenly, when the last time she’d existed in a state other than
stunned silence. And even still, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Her mouth had never felt so
dry. Her tongue had never felt so unwieldy.

“I think...when one spends centuries convincing oneself of something, one begins to believe it
utterly. And then-” Lireesa cut herself off and took a deep, shuddering breath before she quickly
wiped her own eyes. “And then, I needed an heir. And Alleria just wouldn’t do, bless her. And I
thought...I thought to myself, if there were the perfect...I…”

“It’s okay,” Areiel whispered, sliding one of her hands away from Lireesa’s leg to reach for her
arm so she could stroke along it in an effort to comfort her. “You don’t have to say anything of
this. You’ve said so much already.”

Lireesa looked as though she were measuring Areiel’s words for a moment or two before she
discarded them, entirely.

“I thought, if there were any person in the world so good and so right they could give me a child
untouched by the choices I’ve made and the terrible things I’ve done, it would be you. And I
was right. And she is just like you. And I am so proud that it hurts. It hurts, Areiel. It hurt too
much to see your eyes in her own and the openness of your heart in hers and...I couldn’t stand to
have you both near me.”

Lireesa made a noise of disgust in the back of her throat and suddenly shook her right hand.

“Forgive me,” She whispered, looking down at it with her lips parted as she breathed long and
deep in an attempt to compose herself. “At times I can still feel it.”

“That goes away,” Areiel murmured gently as she reached for the construct and hid it in the
haven of her own larger hands. “It gets better. I promise.”

“Even hearing everything I’ve had to say, your concern is my physical comfort,” Lireesa
whispered in disbelief as she looked from Areiel’s hands slowly to meet Areiel’s gaze again now
that she felt able to. “I do not deserve this or you.”

“Even if that were true, Lireesa, I am far too old to do anything at all about this heart of mine,”
Areiel breathed as she smiled almost beseechingly. “Or about how it has always been yours.”

Lireesa had to laugh, because if she didn’t laugh, she might have cried. And she just couldn't
allow herself to cry anymore that day.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Lireesa breathed. “I don’t know how to love any longer.”

“It isn’t something you learn,” Areiel whispered before she lifted herself a little higher on her
knees so they were almost eye-to-eye. “It’s something you simply do.”
“Then I haven’t-”

“When you crossed that border and surrendered yourself to death, Lireesa,” Areiel said
adamantly, her voice trembling, now. “You showed our daughter that you loved her so much that
you would love her with your very last breath that she wouldn’t suffer the pain you suffered
when you lost Malande.”

Areiel paused long enough to reach out to gather some of Lireesa’s hair and stroke it over her
shoulder slowly. “So don’t think you don’t know how to love. There are people in this world
who will never know, Lireesa, how you felt when you chose that child over yourself. There are
people who would and could never make that choice.”

Lireesa took in everything Areiel had to say, but no matter how many words of Areiel’s fell
upon her ears, she couldn’t seem to rearrange them into an adequate response. She reached,
instead, past the silk vest Areiel wore over her shirt and pressed a hand against her chest to feel
the way her heart was hammering away - racing towards something. Anything.

“I don’t know how to kiss someone, anymore, when I am not about to die,” Lireesa quipped
quietly as Areiel’s fingertips danced along her jaw and came to rest along the side of her neck.

“Then I will kiss you,” Areiel whispered, tilting her head as she brushed the tip of her nose
against the prominent bridge of Lireesa’s own. “And we will see what happens, then.”

Lireesa tilted her chin - only just - and Areiel brushed their lips together gently.

Lireesa wondered how something so soft could feel so terrifying. She wondered how something
so gentle could cause such an ache to burrow into her chest.

“I see I am very much interrupting something,” Alleria said rather smugly from the doorway of
the parlor beyond Lireesa’s bedroom where she was leaned up against the door frame with her
arms crossed over her chest. “My most sincere apologies to you both.”

Areiel looked at Alleria pointedly over Lireesa’s shoulder and pressed another kiss to the corner
of her mouth for good measure before she pulled away.

“You are a creature,” Areiel observed dryly as she stood and fixed Lireesa’s blanket over her lap.

“Yes, and there is a small handful of my fellow creatures one room over waiting for you to
remove your tongue from my mother’s throat long enough to see that the servant who was
running down the hallway shouting about the queen speaking again wasn’t lying,” Alleria
countered with a raise of her eyebrow. “And the flawless, esteemed Lady Jaina, of course.”

“Your own sisters are creatures and Jaina is not?” Areiel asked incredulously.

“Alleria is right about some things,” Lireesa said with a sigh as she rose, a little unsteadily, to
her feet. “Once every couple of centuries. Bring the bread and some wine, won’t you, Areiel?”

“Of course,” Areiel responded without hesitation, and Alleria scoffed at her before pushing the
door the rest of the way open to reveal the faces of both her sisters and Jaina peering through it
in the direction of Lireesa.
“Leave the cheese,” Lireesa continued, eyeing Alleria with a little smirk.

“Mother!” Alleria complained with her arms outstretched. “Do you not think Jaina enjoys
cheese?”

“I’m only joking, Child. Go wait with the others while I freshen up.”

Areiel picked the cheese back up from where she’d stowed it next to Lireesa’s chair.

Lireesa smiled fondly at the sight of Areiel at one of the parlor windows with Vereesa on her
hip. Vereesa wasn’t quite tall enough to see over the sill of them, yet, and she’d become quite
interested of late in the goings on of the mages as they began working on the more ornamental
pieces of magic in the gardens now that the necessities had been tended to.

“You are smitten, Mother,” Alleria accused around a mouthful of cheese. “A week ago, Liadrin
was telling us you might never speak, again. Now, you aren’t speaking because your thoughts
are that of an adolescent Ranger.”

“Alleria,” Sylvanas hissed, delivering a rather sharp jab of her elbow to her sister’s side.

“You’re no better,” Alleria drolled, looking over at Sylvanas, who was half-in Jaina’s lap and
half-not.

“Alleria, please,” Lireesa chided. “Don’t be bitter because that girl of yours is tending to the
borders.”

“There are other people more suited to checking for signs of thaw flooding. That’s all.” Alleria
said, feigning disinterest.

“I’m sure,” Lireesa quipped, and Jaina tightened her arm around Sylvanas’s middle as she kept
staring at Lireesa without really meaning to. She still wasn’t over the sight and sounds of Lireesa
being so…alive. She wondered if this is what she might have been like when Sylvanas was a
child. She told herself she’d have to remember to ask sometime. “I appreciated all your visits. I
hope you know. Jaina, I adored your stories. I heard them all.”

Jaina blushed a deep crimson and her gaze finally fell when she realized Lireesa very much
knew she’d been staring, even if she had spared her the embarrassment of acknowledging it.

“Don’t be shy, Jaina,” Lireesa crooned as she crossed her legs beneath the blanket Areiel had
covered them in and leaned into the corner of her arm chair. “There will be songs sung of your
bravery in our courts for lifetimes to come. You best get used to praise in the comfort of these
rooms before you find yourself drowning in it at the banquet next week.”

Jaina would’ve crawled inside of herself at the very idea if that were a thing she was able to do.
But she knew what was in store for her. It only served to strengthen the family’s image and their
subjects’ opinions of their new human co-heir for Jaina to be hailed as the hero she very much
didn’t intend to be.

“Jaina is a hero, isn’t she?” Areiel asked Vereesa from across the room as she turned them both
to face the rest of their impromptu family gathering.
Vereesa was beaming.

“The best hero I’ve ever heard of,” Vereesa confirmed.

“And who was your hero before Jaina?” Areiel asked as she slowly strode over to the rest of
them, all long legs and smiles.

“Hm,” Vereesa said thoughtfully as she looked from one person’s raptly attentive face to the
next. “Either Alleria or Sylvanas.”

“Replaced,” Areiel said, feigning disdain. “How awful.”

Sylvanas looked at Areiel with her legs hanging over Jaina’s lap and her elbow on the back of
the sofa they were all piled up on. “You aren’t going to get a rise out of me today, you know,”
Sylvanas warned.

“Hm, do you think I might get a rise out of you instead, then?” Jaina asked innocently as every
set of eyes in the room landed upon her. “Tonight, perhaps? You’ve been so tired, lately.”

There was a beat or two of silence and then, chaos. A roar of laughter and even a rather
undignified series of hisses from Lireesa.

“I’m leaving,” Sylanas stated dryly even as Jaina’s arm came to wrap around her legs and she
pressed a sympathetic if exaggerated kiss to her cheek.

“You will do no such thing,” Lireesa chided. “You will sit right there until our dinner arrives and
then we will eat as a family. And then, after that, perhaps-”

“Mother!” Sylvanas hissed, her ears nearly flat against her hair and the tips of her fangs glinting
in the sunlight that filled the room. She looked like a cat that had just been spritzed with water,
and it was all Jaina could do not to laugh at her even as she loved her even more than she had a
moment before. Much like she would love her more the next day and the day after and on and
on. She was sure of that, now. Every day, more. Every day, deeper.

Thus was the love that lived within her for Sylvanas and for this family.

“So,” Lireesa said a few minutes later once everyone was nursing a much-needed glass of wine.
“I’ve been hearing mutterings of a state visit to Kul Tiras.”

Jaina groaned deeply and Sylvanas, despite having only just been the brunt of Jaina’s jokes,
frowned and looked at her sympathetically.

“It’s only for two days,” Sylvanas said quickly as she took Jaina’s hand in her own and looked
across the room at her mother. “Katherine is getting impatient about it.”

“Two days from now should be just fine,” Lireesa said, sealing their fates rather handily. “Be
sure you tell her I won’t mix the next one.”

“You aren’t coming?” Sylvanas said, looking all the more like a half-drowned cat at the prospect
of not having her mother to distract Katherine’s attentions.
“I’ve only just decided I’m better off alive than comatose and you want me to go be put
forcefully into a coma not of my choosing by talks of gardens and lumber?” Lireesa asked
incredulously, and Sylvanas looked utterly stricken. At least, until Jaina barked out a laugh that
got them all started all over again.

"Besides, I am far too frail to take the blame for Jaina's hair," Lireesa continued while Alleria
was still wheezing. "That's what daughters are for."

Alleria shot a gloating look in Sylvanas's direction.

"Both of you," Lireesa specified.

 Boden's Mate

“Are you sure this is the way you want to do it?” Liadrin asked as she looked up at the stars with
her arms crossed behind her head while Valeera busied herself with various vials nearby in their
little, fireless camp.

“I want his blood on my hands, Liadrin,” Valeera said quietly with no hesitation as she corked
her last vial and pulled a little sharpening stone from the bag that lay open in front of her folded
legs. “And only mine.”

Liadrin slowly pushed herself up on her bedroll onto her elbows and looked towards Valeera
with a frown. “And you don’t want to spend at least a night in a real bed before we get to
Goldenmist?”

“No,” Valeera sighed, sounding more and more agitated by the second. For a while, the sound of
the steel of one of her daggers sliding across her sharpening stone was almost deafening to
Liadrin before she finally got to her knees and half-crawled over towards Valeera. Valeera still
wasn’t looking at her even as she laid on her side next to her.

“Do you need me to go?” Liadrin finally asked, very carefully. “I can make camp near the
Suncrown fork and-”
“That isn’t want I want,” Valeera snapped rather suddenly and, in her moment of frustration, she
nicked her thumb with her blade and dropped both the dagger and stone as she got up from the
ground quickly and drew in a rather deep breath.

“Valeera,” Liadrin gasped as she looked quickly towards the dagger to check whether or not
she’d yet lined its edge with poison. Realizing she hadn’t, else she wouldn’t still be sharpening
it, she sighed in relief and got to her feet to reach out for her.

“I’m fine, Liadrin,” Valeera said, keeping her hands away from Liadrin’s outstretched ones
despite the fact that the razor’s edge of her dagger had left a rather deep gash in the tip of her
thumb.

“Stop it,” Liadrin said, her voice suddenly losing all of its soft understanding - all of it replaced,
instead, by firmness. “Let me see.”

Valeera’s ears sank low as she cut her eyes in Liadrin’s direction and slowly turned to face her,
offering her the hand that was currently leaving little droplets of blood on the ground beneath
them.

With a quick wave of Liadrin’s hand, the cut was gone - replaced, instead, by Liadrin’s own
unique feeling of magically-imparted warmth.

“What’s wrong?” Liadrin asked as she folded Valeera’s hand in her own and used it to draw the
younger woman close to her. “I’ve never seen you do that.”

Valeera considered keeping up the charade of distanced agitation she’d been keeping up for the
better part of the day and realized it was getting her nowhere. Doing neither of them any good.

“I’m just anxious,” Valeera finally admitted, looking easily as defeated as she sounded. “This is
the most important thing I’ve ever done in my life and I have a terrible history of fucking things
up. Especially when it comes to Dar’Khan.”

“Nothing that happened with Dar’Khan was your fault, Valeera,” Liadrin urged as she reached
up and held onto both sides of Valeera’s hood. “Nothing. Tell me you know that deep down.”

Valeera was quiet for a while before she sighed and rolled her eyes as she pulled Liadrin’s hands
away from her cloak and headed for the bedroll they usually shared to plop down on it with a
shake of her head.

“I apologize,” She said softly. “I’m taking all of this out on you because there is no one else
around to take it out on.”

“Well,” Liadrin began with a shrug as she moved to join Valeera on the bedroll - but not before
fetching Valeera’s bag along with the discarded dagger and stone. “We have been sharing
bedrolls and tents for a month, now. I suppose it was inevitable that I start getting on your nerves
at some point.”

“I think what irritates me the most about you is that you don’t get on my nerves,” Valeera
countered as she lay down on her back to the sounds of Liadrin finishing her abandoned job on
her dagger. “Don’t touch the vials.”
“I wouldn’t touch them if my life depended on it, I don’t think,” Liadrin mused. “I haven’t built
up anywhere near your tolerance of poison.”

“You have more tolerance than you realize,” Valeera said as she eyed Liadrin from the periphery
of her vision. “You touch me enough.”

Liadrin couldn’t help the way the corners of her lips curled into a near smile. “Are you saying
you’re poisonous?”

“In literally every way imaginable, yes,” Valeera confirmed without hesitation.

“You’re so dark, Valeera,” Liadrin accused good-naturedly as she slid Valeera’s dagger back into
its dark leather sheath and dragged Valeera’s bag along with her as she moved to lay at Valeera’s
side.

Now that there was so little effort involved in continuing her work that there really wasn’t any
good excuse not to, Valeera reached for the aforementioned vials and began examining a few of
them closely before she began coating the glinting edges of the various blades tucked in her
clothing with their contents.

“I have good reason to be dark,” Valeera said, sounding more than a little distracted due to the
precision required of her work. Especially in the dark with only the stars as a light source. “As
do you.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” Liadrin said quietly as she watched Valeera until she finally put
her freshly-poisoned dagger away and capped her vial. Only then, did she reach out and gently
take hold of Valeera’s arm to pull her down into a soft kiss that Valeera couldn’t help but want
once it began. “I won’t let you fall, you know. Just like you won’t allow me to.”

“How are you so sure I wouldn’t?” Valeera asked against Liadrin’s lips long after her eyes had
fallen shut and she’d been thoroughly reminded how sweet Liadrin’s tongue tasted as it teased at
her mouth.

“I just am,” Liadrin sighed, pulling back slowly and lifting her roughly-calloused palm to cradle
Valeera’s cheek until Valeera had finally had quite enough of her sweetness and laid down on
her side facing away from her - though she was very much close enough that it was clear she
wanted to be held. Liadrin did just that - pulling Valeera against her chest with an arm around
her middle.

Valeera smirked as she placed another card from her hand onto the table and slowly looked up at
the man she’d been besting for the better part of the evening. His irritation was palpable even
over the din of chatter in the inn.

“I think I need another drink,” He said with a defeated sigh as he tossed his cards down in front
of himself and picked up his empty glass to look down into it.

“I’ll make you a deal, instead,” Valeera said, because she didn’t want him too drunk. No, she
wanted him fully aware. It wasn’t as though her glamour was in any danger of falling off. There
was no shortage of magical power in Quel’Thalas, now. The potions Lireesa had provided her
before her departure were more than potent enough to last as long as she needed them to and
longer still after that.

The man looked across the table at her wearily but didn’t say anything.

“Aw,” Valeera cooed as she gathered the cards back into her hand and winked at him. “Don’t
look so downtrodden. My deal was, if you win the next hand I’ll let you take me upstairs.”

“And if I don’t win?” He asked as he drummed his fingertips against the tabletop.

“Well,” Valeera said as she examined his short-shorn hair and the subtle changes he’d managed
to work in the rest of his features. The changes weren’t enough, though. Valeera thought, in a
moment of amusement, he’d looked much better before. “I’ll probably still let you take me
upstairs. And I need you sober for that. Do we have a deal?”

Dar’Khan smirked and shrugged as he began picking up the cards Valeera was already dealing
to him. Or, not Valeera. Not to him. Just some witty, dark-haired card shark that probably hung
around this Inn all the time.

In reality, Valeera and Liadrin had begun hunting him the better part of a month ago when
Valeera’s network had received word he’d been spotted in an outlying village. He was crafty.
Especially when he used his magic to disguise himself when he felt his new haircut and shifted
features wouldn’t do.

He’d begun to get sloppy, however, the further south he’d gone. Perhaps he thought himself out
of reach. He should’ve known, after so long in service to the Queen, that there was no such thing
as ‘out of reach’. Not in Quel’Thalas. Not when you’d nearly brought the kingdom to ruin.

“I suppose that isn’t really an offer I can refuse with a straight face,” Dar’Khan responded with a
sly smile that threatened to turn Valeera’s stomach. It might have, too, if she weren’t so very
used to noblemen and their slithering.

Valeera hummed as she looked down at her hand. Her eyes didn’t even shift from her cards as
Dar’Khan placed his hand face-down on the table and ordered another glass of ale despite
Valeera’s requests. She used the moment to switch one of her high cards with a low one she’d
had tucked in her sleeve. Even if he’d been watching, he likely wouldn’t have seen.

He laid down his hand and she laid down hers and she feigned a look of disappointment as he
chuckled over his victory and reached for the few gold coins he’d lost and the few Valeera had
bet. Paltry amounts of money considering who Valeera was, and who Dar’Khan once had been.

“You’ve finally bested me,” Valeera sighed almost wistfully. “I’m unsure whether or not I’m in
the mood to go upstairs, now.”

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser,” He crooned from his side of the table - his already-ordered drink all
but forgotten, now. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Valeera lifted her doleful eyes to meet his and he reached across the table to brush his fingertips
across her knuckles. She pulled her hand away quickly. Not only did she despise the thought of
him touching her, she wasn’t entirely certain her glamour would hold up to all that. It was
powerful and refined enough in its workings that it wasn’t easy to feel even to a mage as
accomplished as Dar’Khan. Lireesa had seen to that when she’d done the work on it, herself.
But touch - it hadn’t been designed for that.

Lireesa wouldn’t have wanted that, anyway. She’d made it clear that if he so much as laid a hand
on her, she would know, somehow. And she would come, herself. Valeera had assured her that
her and Liadrin could handle this and, with a few other provisions put into place, Lireesa had
relented.

“No, no,” Valeera teased - easily playing her apprehension off as more of the flirtations she’d
been laying on him all evening. “You can wait until we’re alone, I think. Don’t spoil your
dinner.”

The flash of agitation Valeera’s would-be rejection had produced on Dar’Khan’s sharp features
faded into mild amusement, and he stood from the table even as his drink was placed down in
front of him.

“Upstairs, then,” Dar’Khan announced. “I have places to be come morning.”

“Do you?” Valeera asked, her ears twitching as she stood as well and headed for the stairs of the
inn.

“After you,” Dar’Khan said once they made it to the landing. All the hairs rose along Valeera’s
arms beneath her dark silk shirt as she took to the steps with him at her back. She couldn’t stand
to have people behind her. Even Liadrin, at times. So for that person to be Dar’Khan was almost
unbearable.

She swallowed thickly and led the way to the room she’d rented just that morning, looking over
her shoulder as she opened the door. She noted the strange look on his face just as he stepped in
after her.

“You must think me a fool,” Dar’Khan said. “You must think me born yesterday. You are so sure
of your own cleverness. No peasant woman in her right mind would pull away from me.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Valeera said as she turned to face him
wearing a mask of rather convincing confusion.

“I never thought I would be able to get my hands on you, orphan,” Dar’Khan said, sounding
almost bored. “To repay you for what you did to me when you ran like a songbird to Lireesa.”

Valeera frowned and, with a wave of her hand, her glamour fell from her - leaving her dressed in
the black leathers of a spy of the crown. Black, at least, aside from the many glinting metal
pommels of various blades woven into hiding places in the very material of her garments.

“Well,” Valeera said with a roll of her eyes. “At least we’ve got that out of the way. As though
any peasant woman or any woman at all in her right mind would let you touch her now that
you’re nothing more than a traitorous, low-born rat.”

“While I heartily disagree, and while I do wish I could take my time returning to you tenfold
everything that you put me through, I have to make this quick.” He sighed wistfully, then.
“Unfortunately.”
He only just had a chance to realize Valeera didn’t look the least bit worried. He only just
noticed the coy little smile on her red-painted lips. Before he could even turn, the door shut and
latched softly behind him.

“Quick?” Liadrin asked from behind him.

He immediately began to reel on his feet but found himself caught by a strong hand on the back
of his neck before he could so much as move.

“That’s entirely up to Valeera,” Liadrin sighed. “I’m just here to keep you still. And don’t bother
with your magic, here. You’ll find this room is perfectly attuned to allow for absolutely none of
that.”

“You think yourself so clever,” Valeera said as she walked towards the bed and unrolled the
leather knife case that was waiting for her there even as Dar’Khan strained to see what she was
doing. There was already sweat beading along Dar’Khan’s neck beneath Liadrin’s palm. She
dug her fingertips into it harder just to be sure he wouldn’t slip from her grasp.

“You mean to kill me, High Knight?” He spat, still trying feebly to turn in her vice-like grip to
face her. “Orphan?”

“Not at all,” Liadrin murmured - her voice dark and low. “I only mean to watch you die.”

Valeera approached, then, holding a black hood with a new blade tucked in her belt. When
Dar’Khan reached for her desperately, Liadrin grabbed both his arms and pulled them behind his
back to restrain him - holding them there so tightly his chest bowed forward in Valeera’s
direction as his back arched.

“The darkness you brought to my dreams every night for so long still haunts me,” Valeera said
after she reached out to grip his chin tightly in one hand so that he couldn’t have looked away if
he wanted to. “Here is some of your own.”

He gasped as his vision went dark when she tugged the black hood over his head.

Liadrin looked into her eyes over his shoulder and Valeera expected to find judgment there.
Disapproval, perhaps. But there was only a certain measure of soft acceptance there. It eased the
frayed, raw ends of her nerves as she slid the tip of her dagger up the front of Dar’Khan’s shirt -
expertly avoiding his skin even as she peeled the garment from him like a ripened fruit.

“Please,” Dar’Khan whispered frantically, struggling with such strength and panic that he began
jarring even Liadrin’s taller, broader form behind him. “Not like this. Please.”

When Valeera’s dagger first pierced his gut, her eyes fell shut. In perhaps the most terrifying
moment of her life, she allowed Liadrin to witness the way she savored this. She allowed
Liadrin to see, fully, just how the feeling of delivering retribution - be it her own, or the queen’s
- affected her.

Even as he choked on his screams, Valeera pressed her dagger in deeper until, with terrifying
precision, she delivered a wound that left him unable to speak and writhing in pain in Liadrin’s
arms.
She pulled her hand away - dripping with his blood - and took a step back to watch him.

“This is the death you deserve,” Valeera whispered as she wiped her blade on a cloth she kept
folded in her belt. “A death of slow, excruciating darkness while my poison sears at your insides.
But I haven’t had dinner, and I don’t have time to wait.”

She stepped closer to him again and slowly lifted her now-clean knife to his throat. She held it
there so close he didn’t dare attempt to breathe despite the pain he was in.

“You nearly ruined me,” Valeera whispered, her hand trembling in a rare moment of emotion
when it came to things like this. “Never again.”

With one swift, concise motion, the blade slid across his throat in such a way that there was
surprisingly little mess.

He went limp in Liadrin’s arms and Valeera watched his head roll forward and stay there as
blood slowly began to slide down his chest. Quickly, her eyes flashed up to Liadrin’s and
Liadrin met the fear there unflinchingly.

“What now?” Liadrin asked gently and without hesitation.

Valeera blinked as though she were breaking some spell she’d been placed under and cleaned
her blade once more before heading for the bed to tuck it away.

“There’s a cart beneath the window,” She said simply, sounding oddly detached. “Waiting. It’ll
be gone not long after he’s dropped there.”

Liadrin watched Valeera for a moment longer before she hoisted Dar’Khan’s lifeless body and
carried him over to the waiting, open window. She looked outside to see the very cart Valeera
had described along with a hooded driver who didn’t so much as glance in her direction as she
began hoisting her burden over the sill.

With a soft thump, he was deposited into the sacks of what she could only assume was grain -
and the driver clicked his tongue at his horse. The cart began rolling, and Liadrin quickly closed
the shutters.

“Now you know, I guess,” Valeera murmured as she packed her knives away in the bag she’d
been carrying with her all this time. She sounded so cold. So guarded. “We can part ways now or
you can accompany me back to Silvermoon. The choice is yours and I-”

“Valeera,” Liadrin said her name so emphatically Valeera had little choice but to fall silent. She
didn’t stop what she was doing, but her hands did slow a bit as she buckled the straps of her bag.

Liadrin walked in her direction, stepping over the blood on the floor until she was finally pulling
the bag out of Valeera’s reach and taking her hands into her own.

“Don’t,” Valeera whispered almost angrily as she tried her best to bore holes into Liadrin’s chest
rather than dare look into her eyes. “You don’t like the smell, remember?”

Liadrin took a deep breath and held Valeera’s hands for a moment or two longer before she
slowly lifted them to her lips to press a kiss across the back of each of them.
“I can still smell you,” She said quietly as she carefully guided Valeera’s arms around her own
neck and pressed up against her. “And that’s all that matters to me.”

“I liked it,” Valeera said quickly, still a little stiff in Liadrin’s arms. “Don’t you understand?”

“He deserved whatever else you’re capable of,” Liadrin said as she looked down in an attempt to
catch Valeera’s eyes with her own. “He deserved whatever it is you might have done with all
those other knives had you had the time. Had the wards been strong enough to last long
enough.”

“I thought if I requested an escort…” Valeera’s voice trailed off as her eyes fell shut so she could
buy herself a little time to better give the thoughts racing through her adrenaline-filled mind a
voice. “I thought if it was you, that you would shake whatever infatuation this is that you have
for me. I can’t stand the thought of you l…”

“Loving,” Liadrin whispered. “Loving you.”

Valeera swallowed hard.

“I don’t want it to be a lie, that’s all,” Valeera said before she sighed, and Liadrin felt her entire
body shudder with it. “Nor do I want to lie to you. That mage in that room when I was young,
I...I felt guilt after I killed him, true enough. But there was always a part of me that liked it. I like
bringing an end to lives of undeserved privilege. I like bringing an end to lives that might have
ended my own if I were still covered in filth begging for coin in whatever village I wound up in
on whatever given day.”

“You never deserved that,” Liadrin said softly as she finally released Valeera’s arms, finding a
little solace in the fact that she left them around Liadrin’s neck. “And perhaps it would be a lie to
tell you there’s nothing wrong with finding joy in killing. Morally, there is so very much wrong
with it. And yet I would be lying to myself if I told you I believed it deep down. Because I don’t.
I am just as vile, Valeera. Deep down, beneath the pomp and circumstance and the titles I never
could’ve dreamed of when I was cold and scared hiding beneath the bodies of my parents.
Hiding, Valeera. Like a coward.”

Valeera’s eyes finally flashed up to meet Liadrin’s, and Liadrin’s own were full of nothing but
earnest sincerity.

“At least you did something about it,” Liadrin whispered, her voice trembling as Valeera’s hands
quite suddenly came to cradle the sides of her necks. “At least you aren’t a coward.”

“That isn’t what you are,” Valeera said with a furrow of her brows. “Don’t say that.”

“You wanted so terribly to find my darkness,” Liadrin responded, voice barely audible. “To find
the flaws in this pitiful fucking mask I wear as I walk the halls of the palace pretending I’m...I’m
anyone.”

“You a-”

“But I’m not,” Liadrin said flatly without letting Valeera finished. “I don’t know who I am. All I
have ever known is that I owe Lireesa my life. That is who I am. And if all I can ever be aside
from that is someone who loves you for all of your darkness...then that’s what I will be. Because
at least it’s something, Valeera. And I am...I am too…”

Liadrin began choking around her words and Valeera pulled her against her chest so roughly it
might’ve driven the wind from a lesser woman’s lungs. As it was, Liadrin just grabbed Valeera’s
cloak in her fists and held it tightly against her back as she buried her face in the crook of her
neck.

“You are too nothing,” Valeera whispered breathlessly into her hair. “And perhaps I could be
someone who is loved by you.”

They stood there for so long Liadrin’s hands began cramping. Only then did she slowly loosen
her grip on Valeera’s now half-ruined cloak and finally lean back away from her. She didn’t even
move an inch before Valeera was holding the sides of her face so she could press their foreheads
together.

“I wanted you for so long that I don’t know what to do with you,” She whispered as she stroked
Liadrin’s temples with her thumbs. “You were like a bauble in the store window I used to sleep
in front of in Sunsail.”

“We are in much the same boat, then,” Liadrin sighed. “I never wanted to be seen and now that I
have been, I don’t know how to accept that you are the one who is scared of me turning away
when I fear the same.”

“I see you,” Valeera assured her. “And I want you no less. I think I want you more.”

Liadrin’s eyes fell shut and, in the same moment, she allowed her head to fall against Valeera’s
shoulder.

Valeera stared at the far wall of the room as she cradled the back of Valeera’s head in her palm
and slowly began stroking over the brilliant red of her hair.

She wondered, as her attention slowly drifted to the blood pooled on the floor if, perhaps, she
just had a thing for red.

She nearly rolled her eyes at herself as she slowly dropped a hand between them and pressed it
against Liadrin’s chest.

“We need to clean up and get out of here,” She said, and Liadrin slowly looked over at the rather
gruesome mess she was referring to.

“I’ll do it,” Valeera said quickly.

“No,” Liadrin said, clearing her throat and quickly making her way towards the bucket of sudsy
water and the scrub brush that was ready and waiting for them. “No, I’ll do it. You get cleaned
up and ready our things. I’d like to be home by morning.”

Valeera looked at Liadrin wearily for a moment or two, but Liadrin went to work with little if
any hesitation.
“Or we could stay here,” Valeera suggested idly when she went back to packing. “Take a nice
bath, stay naked-”

“I don’t think I’m there quite yet,” Liadrin said quickly.

Valeera smirked and slung her bag over her shoulder.

“Worth a shot.”

Liadrin looked up at her from her task and, to her credit, was only displaying minor disdain.

“I’m joking.”

“Oh,” Liadrin said, blinking a few times and then dipping her scrub brush back into the now
very red water in her pail. “Right.”
 Of Flame and Memory

Lireesa slowly closed the book she’d been holding in her lap. She hadn’t been reading it,
anyway. Not for a long time. She’d been staring at the little pile of wood shavings Areiel had
been making at her feet across the parlor in the light of the setting sun. Even that slight
movement drew Areiel’s attention away from her task.

Concern. Relief, when she realized Lireesa didn’t look particularly distressed. A soft, warm
smile. She returned to her carving, not needing anything more. Not asking for anything more.

Lireesa placed her book aside and slowly rose from her armchair to make her way across the
room to Areiel.

“What are you working on?” She asked quietly as she stood beside Areiel’s chair and reached
out to brush a few strands of silvered hair from the other woman’s eyes.

“A charger for Vereesa,” Areiel explained quietly as her nimble fingers worked her razor-sharp
carving knife in delicate little curling motions.

“She has so many toy horses,” Lireesa said, sounding amused.

“But I didn’t make them,” Areiel responded as though that should explain the addition to
Vereesa’s too-large collection perfectly.
Lireesa lowered her hand and touched delicately along Areiel’s wrist and up along her hand until
she was brushing her fingertips over Areiel’s and then the knife. “Come to bed.”

Areiel’s hands stopped moving slowly as Lireesa moved her own out of the way and, instead,
trailed a touch along Areiel’s sharp jaw to guide it upward so their eyes could meet.

Confusion. A question, unspoken. Areiel’s eyes read like a book to Lireesa just as they always
had.

“To your bed?” Areiel asked gently, seeking clarification. Seeking the sureness Lireesa felt in
her very bones.

“Aren’t you tired of the guest room?” Lireesa asked with a furrow between her brows.

“This doesn’t ever need to be about me,” Areiel said as she slowly reached over to the end table
beside her and deposited her half-finished horse and knife.

Lireesa was quiet for a moment as she held Areiel’s chin in her hand.

“I don’t know how to make it about me,” Lireesa admitted in a whisper before the silence could
crush them both.

Areiel stood carefully just so that Lireesa’s hand could stay where it was if she willed it to, and
she turned to face Lireesa slowly.

Lireesa looked up into her eyes.

Clear. Open. Wanting and selfless all at once.

Lireesa had blinded herself to that desire for so very long, but she wanted so terribly to see it
now.

She released Areiel’s chin and lowered her hand to press it over her heart through the open v of
her shirt.

“Would you like for me to do that for you?” Areiel asked as she tilted her head to the side and
glanced from Lireesa’s lips back to the grey of her eyes - all soft, clouded skies in place of the
icy steel that so often dwelled there.

“Yes,” Lireesa whispered emphatically. So much so that her voice nearly broke with the word.

“What changed?” Areiel asked, as she lifted both her hands to rest along Lireesa’s shoulders -
left bare by the dress she wore.

“Nothing,” Lireesa admitted, and her lips shifted so that she almost smiled but didn’t.
“I...everything. Everything and nothing. Watching you make a mess of my floor. Listening to
you writing or working away at your little carvings while I lie awake in bed at night. Asking
myself why I felt shame in wishing you were next to me with all your warmth and strength and
hard-headedness.”
Areiel was trapped in her silence by the gentle lilting of Lireesa’s words. By the way Lireesa’s
hands were now resting against her stomach. Had she ever done that? Even when they’d been
young?

“There is no shame in feeling,” Areiel said, shifting her hands to gently cradle the sides of
Lireesa’s slender neck so she could run the pads of her thumbs up her jaw towards her ears. She
brushed past Lireesa’s earrings and let her thumbs come to rest behind her lobes. “And I hope
fervently there is no shame in wanting, because I can’t find it in myself to feel it for having
never stopped.”

“Stopped what?” Lireesa asked in an exhale as the corners of her lips curved subtly upwards.

Areiel lowered her head and brushed her lips against Lireesa’s cheek. And then her jaw. And
then the soft skin where her jaw met the lobe of her ear.

Her earring made a quiet sound against the bridge of Areiel’s nose.

“I know that you know,” Areiel murmured against the place where Lireesa’s pulse was beating
steadily along the side of her neck. “And I hope that you know that when I thought I’d lost you it
was like I’d forgotten how to breathe.”

Even as Areiel’s lips brushed against her neck with every word, Lireesa unclasped the front of
her dress latch by latch and let it fall to the floor around her feet.

Areiel’s eyes fell, unbidden, to the porcelain skin over her delicate yet sharp collarbones and the
soft curves of her breasts before they darted up again.

Lireesa’s eyes were shifting so quickly and so minutely that Areiel wondered what she was
looking for. She prayed she might find it.

Carefully, Areiel took Lireesa’s right hand in her own and drew it slowly upward between them
so she could bow her head and kiss the warm, living metal of her palm.

Lireesa watched silently and passed her thumb across Areiel’s lips to receive a kiss there, too.

“I have been cold for so long,” Lireesa whispered as she reached for Areiel’s free hand and
guided it so that it was pressed over her breast. “I moved as if through sand. I felt as if through
panes of colorless glass. Your warmth was that of a mound of angry coals. Your brightness was
that of a thousand suns.”

Areiel was still and quiet. So still she couldn’t bring herself to breathe.

“I want to be consumed by you. Like kindling. Like the husk of a tree to the fury of a strike of
lightning. I want to be blinded. I am undeserving, Areiel, and nothing you could say or do could
change that fact, because it is a fact. But I-,” Lireesa paused when she next drew breath and it
caught sharply in her throat. “I would give all of myself to you and I would hope that it is
something.”

Areiel shifted closer. Like flames lapping at a door. At the windows. An inferno.
Areiel slowly ran her hand from Lireesa’s breast around to the back of her head as she brushed
Lireesa’s ear with the tip of her nose before she whispered against it.

“You have never been less than everything,” She whispered with such surety Lireesa’s hands
began to tremble as they grasped at the front of Areiel’s shirt.

“Even when you wanted me to be?” Lireesa asked, surprised at the breathless sound of her own
voice.

“Even then.”

Lireesa turned her head slowly and Areiel found her lips with her own and kissed her.

Lireesa pressed into the kiss even as the feeling of the centuries-old callouses on Areiel’s palms
seared at the skin of her sides towards her hips and then moved back up until, finally, as Areiel’s
tongue first grazed her own, she was lifting the silver circlet from Lireesa’s brow to lay it gently
in the seat she’d left moments ago.

Lireesa’s dark hair, now freed, fell against her shoulders. Broad shoulders. Scarred shoulders.
Shoulders that should’ve been bent in two for all the weight they carried.

Areiel made a soft noise in the back of her throat when Lireesa caught her lower lip in her fangs
and tugged ever so slightly. The moment her strong hands gripped the backs of Lireesa’s thighs
and lifted them around her own hips felt like jumping into a bonfire and Lireesa lept. She lept.
She’d have leapt even if Ariel were a pyre, and perhaps she was.

Lireesa wrapped her legs around Areiel’s slender waist strongly and her arms around the back of
her neck as Areiel began walking them towards Lireesa’s bedchamber - leaving her brand along
the side of Lireesa’s neck and across her shoulder all the while until, finally she was lowering
Lireesa onto the edge of the bed.

Lireesa sat and immediately reached to hold onto the backs of Areiel’s knees, meaning to pull
her forward. Areiel’s strength always surprised her. She stood, unmoving. Looking down at
Lireesa as she pulled a leather tie from the sash at her waist and gathered her long hair to tie it at
the crown of her head.

“It is my greatest wish that you could see yourself through my eyes,” Areiel said as she lowered
her hands to the hem of her own shirt. “And my greatest regret that you cannot.”

She pulled her shirt up and over her head and tossed it aside and Lireesa’s brow furrowed at the
sight of her. She’d nearly forgotten. Areiel’s body was a roadmap of sacrifices. So utterly
imperfect. Toned to the point of sinewy sharpness. Thin so that even the muscle stretching along
her ribs wasn’t enough to hide them.

Lireesa ran her hands along the backs of Areiel’s knees and slowly began to drag them up along
her sharp hipbones and along her sides. “You have left even my thoughts without words,” she
breathed. “I am...I-” Lireesa trailed off and shook her head and Areiel slowly lowered herself to
her knees in front of her until she was looking up at her with her hands resting along her inner
thighs.
“You were my queen before you were anyone else’s,” Areiel said as her hands finally came to
rest against Lireesa’s hips once her thighs were spread enough. “Before you knew the weight of
a crown. And you will be my queen long after.”

“I am...Areiel, I am not something to be worshipped-”

“And yet, I will worship you,” Areiel reassured her as she worked her thumbs against the
hollows of her hips. “Would you but let me.”

Lireesa could’ve pondered that for hours. Days, perhaps. Her unworthiness. The crushing weight
of her sin. She could’ve gone centuries more than she already had prostrating herself to her own
monument of contrition. Because that’s what she’d become, really.

But Areiel was right here. Already kneeling. Wanting. Burning.

“But not like this,” Lireesa whispered, reaching for Areiel’s hands to lift them from her hips
even as Areiel slowly rose from her knees.

“However you wish,” Areiel offered, and Lireesa’s hands fell to the sash around her waist and
loosed it. She guided Areiel’s breeches down her long, slender legs and then, once Areiel was as
naked as she was, she knelt up on the bed and gestured towards the head of it.

“There,” She explained, and Areiel looked at her for a moment longer just to commit as much of
her to memory as she could before she made her way around the edge of the bed to lift herself
onto it.

Only once she was leaned back against the headboard with her legs outstretched along the silk
and down-feather comforter did Lireesa seem satisfied enough to join her. And join her, she did.
On her hands and knees, she crawled to her.

Areiel’s breath had nearly left her entirely by the time Lireesa was moving to straddle her lap.
With a wave of her hand, the darkness that had descended upon the room in the absence of a sun
sunk too low beyond the horizon outside the windows was replaced, instead, by the soft blue
glow of magelights.

A subtle display of power, but a display nonetheless, as Lireesa’s eyes stayed locked on Areiel’s.

As the blue washed over her, Areiel did little to try to stop herself staring at the way Lireesa’s
raven-black hair rested against her breasts and down her arms. Lireesa reached behind herself to
run a hand along the metal construct of Areiel’s leg until she reached the very warm, very alive
skin of her thigh.

“Like this,” Lireesa finally said, and the hard muscle of Areiel’s thigh twitched against Lireesa’s
hand as she put herself on full display.

Areiel could’ve cried as she allowed her head to fall forward until her face was resting against
the center of Lireesa’s chest - cradled on either side by her breasts. Almost immediately, Lireesa
lifted a hand to hold the back of her head.

Areiel’s breaths came in short, shallow puffs against the inside of her wrist as she felt again
along the insides of Lireesa’s thighs until the backs of her knuckles were brushing against hot,
wet, sensitive flesh.

Lireesa’s body felt, to Areiel, like a clockspring as she slowly dragged the pad of her thumb
down the hood of Lireesa’s clit. Like an unsprung snare line.

“Like this?” Areiel repeated Lireesa’s own words back to her in a hot, breathy murmur against
the underside of her breast before her lips dragged higher and that same airy heat found
Lireesa’s nipple. Her thumb was now drawing wetness down and up again - slicking Lireesa so
she could rub slow, steady circles against her.

Lireesa’s entire body shuddered.

“Tell me, Lireesa,” Areiel husked against her almost painfully hard nipple with more force.
“With your pretty words, keeper of my heart.”

“No,” Lireesa gasped out finally as her thighs began to tremble. “I want more of you,” She
continued. “I want all of you. Please”

Lireesa was, again, reminded of Areiel’s strength as Areiel lifted them both and fell over Lireesa
- pinning her on her back and reaching to lift Lireesa’s legs higher against her sides. She slid her
hand around the back of Lireesa’s thighs and parted her with her fingertips so that when she
reached with her free hand there was nothing between the lengths of her fingers and Lireesa’s
aching, wanting entrance.

Areiel sought no more approval or assurance as she sank two of her fingers deeply into Lireesa
and, at once, Lireesa’s back arched from the bed as she dug her nails into Areiel’s shoulders.

“Easy,” Areiel said as she quickly released Lireesa’s thigh and lifted her hand to thread her
fingers into Lireesa’s hair. “Breathe.”

Lireesa’s next exhale was ragged as, through sheer force of will, she opened her eyes enough to
look up at Areiel.

Areiel touched across her brow, then, as her other hand stilled to give Lireesa’s body time to
adjust to her. She tenderly traced the line of the scar that had split it in two so very, very long
ago.

“Can you let yourself be?” Areiel asked as she pressed her thumb lightly atop Lireesa’s clit.
“Just be?”

Lireesa’s nails gradually easy from the crescents of red they’d left in Areiel’s skin and she
moved them to Areiel’s sides.

“Come closer to me,” She whispered simply.

Areiel complied without hesitation - lowering her weight against Lireesa’s smaller form until
Lireesa could finally wind her arms around her back. In the next moment, her head was against
Lireesa’s chest and Lireesa’s heart was pounding so hard Areiel could almost feel it.

Once Lireesa wasn’t wound quite so tightly, Areiel began moving her hand and her thumb in
tandem - rocking her body slowly in time.
Lireesa’s nails found purchase in her skin again and, this time, left light trails of pink in their
wake. She moaned.

A soft, keening sound against the top of Areiel’s head. And it was so beautiful that Areiel’s eyes
fell shut. She kept her slow, steady pace until the movements of Lireesa’s hips became more
insistent until, in a tangle of limbs and a chorus of Areiel’s name falling from Lireesa’s parted
lips, Lireesa came undone. Utterly. Fully.

With a sob, she begged Areiel not to stop. Not even as her body balked against Areiel’s
continued attentions.

Areiel slid another finger in along with the first two and replaced her thumb with the heel of her
palm as she lifted herself high enough to rest her head next to Lireesa’s just so she could better
hear her.

Lireesa’s hands had now fallen to the comforter. The material balled into the construct began to
tear as she lost her finer control over it.

“We have another,” Areiel panted into Lireesa’s ear as Lireesa attempted to look at what she’d
done. “Ruin it.”

Lireesa saw white, then. In the moment Areiel’s voice had been nearly a growl. And Areiel was
shuddering over her.

Blindly, Lireesa reached between them.

“With me,” She mouthed, shaking terribly as she tried with every fiber of her being to wait.
“Gods, please, Areiel.”

Areiel nodded wordlessly as she lifted herself to give Lireesa room even as her hand kept
working steadily. Until it wasn’t any longer. Until she knew nothing but Lireesa’s fingertips
against her and the brilliant warmth that overcame her.

She choked out a sound even as Lireesa’s legs came to wrap around her back tightly. Even as her
thighs shook against Areiel’s desperately heaving sides.

Areiel wasn’t entirely sure what happened in the next moments. She was only aware of Lireesa’s
hands stroking slowly across her sweat-slicked back as she breathed hard and heavy against her
chest.

“You are...you are an exquisite lover,” Lireesa managed to get out. “I’d forgotten.”

“I’m glad to have reminded you,” Areiel murmured - her words barely intelligible as she
reached for Lireesa’s arm and slipped her hand along it until she was twining their fingers
together. “But I’ve so much more to remind you of.”

Katherine’s face was an amusing mix of abject horror and forced politeness as Alleria busied
herself with her venison and Sylvanas stared intently at her own.

“And...you are unharmed?” Katherine asked after clearing her throat. “Aside from your hair?”
“My hair isn’t harmed, mother,” Jaina corrected her rather precociously. “It’s only a different
color. I rather like it, myself.”

“Well,” Katherine said, turning her attention to Sylvanas. “I suppose I owe you my gratitude for
my daughter’s safety.”

Sylvanas’s ears went crooked for a moment before they settled back into a more polite position
out of habit. “Lady Katherine, your daughter saved our kingdom. She saved my mother. It is I
and the rest of us who owes your daughter our eternal gratitude.”

Katherine, to her credit, only looked taken-aback for a moment before she recovered and offered
Sylvanas a smile.

“And when might I expect the Queen?” Katherine asked, handily changing the subject away
from the near world-ending catastrophe her daughter had been involved in. “I thought she might
join you on this visit. It’s been so long, after all.”

“She’s still recovering, I’m afraid,” Sylvanas explained, and Alleria made a sound into her wine
goblet that earned her an invisible, yet rather strong pulse of magic to her side that felt a little
like an elbow to her ribs.

Katherine watched in confusion as Alleria winced and hid her face in her wine for a moment
longer before placing the goblet down.

“She’s being well looked after, though,” Alleria said with a sickly-sweet smile. “By Sylvanas’s
other mother.”

Katherine’s eyes went wide and Sylvanas stared past Katherine at a burl in the pine walls of
Katherine’s private dining quarters because she feared she might kill Alleria if she didn’t give
herself something else to focus on.

“Her other mother?” Katherine asked, finally looking back at Jaina. “I’m afraid I don’t
understand.”

“It’s simple,” Jaina lied nonchalantly. “Through magic, Sylvanas became the daughter of the
Queen and her lover. Well. They weren’t lovers at the time. But you know how these things are.”

“That doesn’t sound at all simple,” Katherine said, still smiling.

Alleria had to pop another bite of some pale-looking root vegetable into her mouth to keep from
asking her if her face was getting sore.

“But I’ll take your word for it. We have the feast tomorrow, you know. I should really be getting
my rest. I’ve been under the weather for a week or so and it wouldn’t do me any good to be
unseemly in front of the Houses.”

“Of course,” Jaina said, placing her napkin beside her mostly-full plate and standing from her
seat with Sylvanas at her side.
Alleria, too, stood. With her plate in hand.

Sylvanas, without looking away from Katherine, took it from her and put it back on the table
where it had been.

“Thank you for a lovely meal,” Sylvanas said. “Tomorrow will be even more wonderful, I’m
certain.”

“Your grasp of our language has gotten quite good,” Katherine said with a smile and a nod.
“Very impressive.”

Sylvanas decided that was her queue to lead her trio from the room and down the hall to the
wing they’d been given for the week.

“I’m going to have Liadrin behead you when we get home,” Sylvanas said once they were far
out of any possible human earshot. “In the town square. I’ll have the mages send announcements
to every subject in the kingdom. All are invited to attend the public execution of one Alleria
Windrunner. Refreshments to be served immediately after in the royal banquet hall.”

“I would rather have no head than spend another moment with your mother-in-law,” Alleria
drawled with a rather unaffected roll of her eyes as Jaina reached for Sylvanas’s arm and gave it
a coaxing squeeze.

“Now, now,” Jaina chided. “If both of you don’t start behaving I’m going to send a message for
Lireesa to see if she wouldn’t mind joining us after all.”

“Me?” Sylvanas demanded in disbelief as she turned her wide eyes to Jaina. “What did I do?”

“I saw that little stunt you pulled,” Jaina said with a lift at her brow that looked more like a dare
than anything else.

Sylvanas, knowing she’d been caught, sighed heavily and looked in Alleria’s direction to find
her smirking.

“Are you going to at least try to be civil at the banquet?”

“Of course I’m going to be civil at the banquet,” Alleria countered. “I’m an asshole, Sylvanas.
Not a fool.”

“You are both,” Sylvanas muttered, and Jaina gave her arm a bit more of a squeeze this time.

“Alleria,” Jaina said sweetly as she looked around her wife in Alleria’s direction. “In all
seriousness, the noble houses will be attending tomorrow. I greatly enjoy the hell you give my
mother, but…”

“I’ll be on my best behavior despite my sister,” Alleria reassured Jaina without a moment of
thought. “Really. I’m just having a bit of fun. It’s...very um. I’m bored out of my skull, Jaina,
and I have no idea how you did it.”
“Lots of books,” Jaina said as she pulled Sylvanas to a stop in front of the door to their own
room just down the hall from Alleria’s. “So many books.”

Alleria was still chuckling to herself even as Jaina latched the door behind her and Sylvanas.

Sylvanas promptly began shedding her rather stuffy clothing and Jaina trailed behind her picking
it up.

“Don’t be cranky,” Jaina said, though she was smiling despite herself. “She really is funny, you
know.”

“I know,” Sylvanas said rather bitterly. “I hate it.”

“Come here,” Jaina cooed as she placed Sylvanas’s pile of clothing on the table they were
walking past. “My beautiful naked wife.”

Sylvanas rolled her eyes and turned just in time for Jaina to catch her by her arms.

“Hey,” Jaina said rather gently despite Sylvanas’s irritation. “You’ve been without the Sunwell
for nearly three days. I know that isn’t helping.”

Sylvanas’s expression softened and she looked rather ashamed all the sudden. Jaina reached for
her cheek and cradled it in her palm with a smile.

“Come lay with me by the fire,” Jaina said quietly and Sylvanas lifted her doleful eyes to meet
Jaina’s and all the acceptance and adoration she found there. “You’ll feel so much better.”

“Okay,” She agreed as she reached for Jaina’s hips to pull her close into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be silly,” Jaina whispered against Sylvanas’s temple before kissing it. “I love you so
much it’s ridiculous, did you know?”

Sylvanas’s lips spread into a smile where they were pressed to Jaina’s shoulder.

“There you are,” Jaina said, keeping Sylvanas in her arms for a moment before she pulled away.

Sylvanas watched with piqued interest as Jaina made her way towards the fur rug in front of the
fireplace, doing away with her own dress and shoes along the way - though she folded them
carefully and placed them on a nearby chair instead of it haphazard piles across the floor.

The sighed of Jaina laying on the rug facing the fire utterly naked wasn’t something to be
ignored no matter how out of sorts Sylvanas was feeling. Jaina’d been so open since Zul’Aman.
So free and confident that Sylvanas often found herself in awe just like she was right now.

She padded over to Jaina quietly and, when she knelt down beside her, Jaina rolled onto her
back and held her arms open. Sylvanas immediately moved to lay against her chest with her
cheek against Jaina’s breast and Jaina began playing with her hair because it was down today
and Jaina found it impossible not to play with it when it wasn’t bound.
“What were we working on last night?” Jaina asked gently as the dancing light of the flames
flickered over them both and cast their joined shadow behind them into the otherwise dark room.
The flames were once again a comfort. Lireesa herself had seen to their absence from her
nightmares. An offer Jaina more than gratefully accepted.

“Dampening,” Sylvanas reminded her as Jaina opened herself to her.

Immediately, Sylvanas felt relief from the Sunwell’s absence in the wealth of Jaina’s power.

“Right, dampening,” Jaina murmured to herself and, without warning, Sylvanas felt a tingle
between her breasts trailing down the center of her stomach despite the fact that there was no
space between them.

“Am I supposed to want you to stop?” Sylvanas asked and, rather suddenly, the tingle grew cold.
Very, very cold.

Sylvanas nearly jumped out of her skin before she focused on the sensation and on the power
Jaina was allowing her to use. Slowly, the chill wore off and became a tingle again. And then a
subtle warmth. And then nothing.

“You’re getting good,” Jaina remarked. “I wasn’t making that easy on you at all.”

“Thank you,” Sylvanas said quietly, once again relaxing in Jaina’s arms.

“Now do something else for me,” Jaina said. “Anything you like. Something I haven’t yet seen
you do.”

Sylvanas was quiet for a long time as she lost herself in thought and her eyes unfocused in the
flickering whites and blues at the source of the fire in their hearth.

Slowly, the blues began shifting. Deeper and deeper until, finally, purple began dancing with the
myriad of colors there. Dancing, and then flickering, and then fluttering.

Jaina’s lips parted as the image of a butterfly escaped the fires and meandered towards them
before it came to light on their hands where they were now intertwined on the rug.

It sat there for a moment, as real as anything, before it gave one last tiny flutter of its wings and
was gone.

“Make me a butterfly,” Lireesa said. “In exchange for my services.”

“What color?” Sylvanas asked as she looked at a very real group of butterflies nearby.

“Hm. Purple, if you would.”

“What?” Sylvanas asked quietly as Jaina blinked hard and shook her head.

“Nothing,” She whispered, finally looking away from the hearth as she brought Sylvanas’s hand
to her lips and pressed a rather firm kiss against her knuckles. She didn’t dare tell Sylvanas she’d
seen it before.

“It was beautiful.”

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