Warcraft: Unity: Stormcaller - 5/8+Epilogue
Happy Independence Day!
Title: Unity: Stormcaller
Part: 5/8+Epilogue
Word Count: 4430
Includes: Spoilers for the Bonus Orc Campaign, character death, violence, strong language.
Pairings: Implied Thrall/Jaina, Jaina/OMC.
Summary: During the Late Winter of the 27th year after the opening of the Dark Portal, something dark and sinister calls terrible storms to lash the coast of Kalimdor, its source seemingly Jaina's old home: Kul Tiras. Vowing to do what is right, rather than take an easier path, Jaina returns home to speak to her estranged family and protect her family, her allies, and her own people from the Stormcaller.
Previous: Unity Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
Stormcaller Chapters: 1 2 3 4
Jaina collected her thoughts slowly, gathering them like her power. It’s not as though I didn’t spend all too long dwelling on it, and still do when things are too quiet, but… “We fought the demons at Hyjal, as I said. We weren’t sure if we’d survive, but we did. Then we had to find a place to live. Hyjal had once been the primary city for the elves, they moved more fully into Ashenvale to contemplate their mortality and mend what had been broken. Thrall and I moved south to different places that weren’t occupied. I tracked down the most powerful unoccupied ley nexus in Kalimdor and built my city on top of it. It was a small island and we had to dredge up land from the sea to make it bigger and more suited to our purposes. That was tricky on its own. Magic helps.”
“I don’t doubt it… and I shouldn’t be surprised you wanted an island kingdom by the sea… and that you’d live under no one’s rule but your own.” Tandred took a long drink from his mug and made a face. “It’s cold.”
“You’ll survive,” Jaina chided him, and thought back. “Thrall picked land further south, though also along the coast. It’s hot and dry there, but the land is healthy and strong, the soil rich and red. I named my island Theramore, and he named his land Durotar, after his father Durotan.”
Tandred gave her a look, and she returned one, drinking her own cooling tea. “Does anyone realize you named your island ‘This Land’ in Old Arathi?”
“If they have, I haven’t been called on it yet.” She smiled proudly. “But it’s a good city, and a good island. I was able to confirm my own theories about pre-planning cities and building them along specific lines. Protection spells can be vastly expanded when they’re woven into the very fabric of the land.”
Tandred whistled softly. “You don’t think small, Sunfish.”
“No, and if anything, I’m going to put more work into expanding the wards.” Jaina balanced her mug between her knees and tugged back the left sleeve of her bathing robe, revealing a long, twining strand of blue and purple beads. “These are the physical representations of the arcane wards. I’ll be able to feel them if something happens here, but I can only manipulate the wards directly while I’m inside them. It’s limiting, but necessary. I can draw on the ley nexus directly too.”
“Is that dangerous?” Tandred asked, frowning. “It sounds dangerous.”
“Life is risk,” Jaina said firmly. Tandred rolled his eyes, and she ignored him. “If I may continue… Thrall visited Theramore to ask the blessing of the spirits, and when he broke ground for Orgrimmar, I visited him. He made me make a speech.” She made a face.
“You poor thing,” Tandred murmured. “Orgrimmar?”
“They named their city after Orgrim Doomhammer, who had been Thrall’s mentor before he was killed fighting to free people from the Camps. Thrall was his chosen successor. We spent so much time busy, we were both building cities. I was experimenting with something new, but I’d designs to call up, and magic to help. Thrall’s people did all of their work by hand, and they needed the goblins to teach them how to build a city in the first place, though Gazlowe is very competent.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t know themselves,” Tandred noted, frowning. “I suppose they built none here, but on Draenor…”
“Draenor was a wasteland by the time they left, and even before that, resources were so scarce that living in one place, drawing constantly from the land, and hoping to draw in enough from farms would have killed them.” Jaina toyed with her sleeve and released it, reaching for her mug again. “Thrall said it was reading about cities that made him want one, and more… he wanted his people united, not split off by clan, especially with so many not even sure which clan they were from. The Camp years were brutal to them, and cruel.”
“The last part may be obvious, but how do you know about the rest?” Tandred asked, and Jaina raised an eyebrow.
“Well, I asked, and Thrall told me of it. His clan remembers, and many of the elders that survived. He has a… source he didn’t name that he said granted him a much less flattering impression of Draenor than Grom or Orgrim ever did, but he needed to hear it, I think.”
“Did he not tell you who, or do you not know?” Tandred asked, and Jaina smiled briefly.
“I have theories, but I need more data. In any case, I was busy, building, in meetings, signing trade agreements and treaties between my own forces, the Horde, and the Kaldorei leaders, who had to be placated in some ways, and were intensely grateful in others. We’d saved their lands, and even though I was a mage, and Thrall was an orc, they respected us, and we started changing their opinions with our own attitudes. Positive representation helps.”
“I’d imagine so,” Tandred mused, and then tensed. “So when did…”
“It was during the Late Autumn, I… didn’t know, not at first.” Jaina looks down, and the smile drains from her. “Da may have come looking for me, but he found the orcs first, and immediately planned to attack them.”
“Is this something you know, or something Thrall told you?”
“It’s what Thrall’s agents told me when they showed up on my very doorstep, bearing word from Thrall himself. His agents -- Rexxar, and Rokhan -- had been sent to investigate a disturbance regarding some of the native animals. Thunderlizards. It turned out to be caused by humans gathering lumber in Durotar, which is forbidden by the treaties Thrall and I signed.”
“...and then they killed them,” Tandred remarked, cynicism tinging his words, and Jaina nudged him with her foot.
“They remained completely untouched, attacking intruders is forbidden as well,” Jaina replied sternly. “Rexxar brought the information to Thrall who said they should investigate further. Rexxar and his companions found slaughtered orc settlements along the coast.” Jaina’s voice shook with anger, and she gripped her mug more tightly. “Finally, even as Thrall was advised to send riders out to slaughter the humans, the humans sent an ambassador to ‘parley’ with him… and it was an ambush, though Thrall didn’t attend personally. Rexxar did, and is in fact very difficult to ambush.”
“Did you confirm any of this?” Tandred asked, his voice low, angry, and afraid. “Before you took an orc’s word over your kin?”
“I had testimony from Rexxar, who was there personally for the attempted assassination,” Jaina retorted, her eyes flashing. “If I could continue?” Tandred muttered indistinctly, but nodded. “Thrall was determined to find answers as to what was going on, so he sent Rexxar and his companions to me with a letter, asking what had happened.”
“So, you’re telling me that in the face of finding out that treaties had been violated, people had been killed, and a diplomatic meeting was used as an excuse for an ambush, Thrall’s response was to write you a note?” Tandred asked, disbelieving. “You expect me to believe you?”
“It was a strongly worded note,” Jaina replied, a hint of defensiveness in her tone. “He seemed quite upset.”
“This is completely ridiculous,” Tandred replied, rolling his eyes. Jaina shot her brother a dark look, but continued.
“Needless to say, I was surprised when they arrived, and more surprised to learn that there were other humans in Kalimdor at all, much less in Dustwallow Marsh,” Jaina said, and her gaze grew distant. “To get to me, they’d needed to destroy the defenses of the camped forces, and by the time I arrived, they’d been attacked by naga and taken as prisoners.”
“Naga are those fish creatures we fought earlier, correct?” Tandred asked, frowning again. Jaina nodded.
“They are, and they used to be elves by all reports. I suspect that they’ve been spotted on and off for centuries by sailors, thus leading to the creation of mermaid mythology, though I’d imagine the fact that they have been described as more human looking is related to an unwillingness to admit they’d been seduced by snake women.”
“They do seem to be far less attractive than pretty girls with fishtails,” Tandred admitted, and under the blanket, Jaina poked him with a toe. Tandred poked the sole of her foot in reply.
“In any case, I followed the trail left by the naga and found where they’d kept the survivors. One of them recognized me, asking how I was there at all, and… I realized what was happening too late. I teleported back to Theramore as fast as I could, but…” Jaina shook her head. “Da sailed the Azure Shards right up to harbour, and of course, no one stopped him or questioned it. He spotted Rexxar and the others and tried to attack them. I distracted him so they could escape.”
Tandred’s expression was dark and angry. “Then what happened?”
Jaina’s eyes squeezed closed as she remembered.
~ * ~
“Why in the name of all the dark hells are there ogres in this city?” Daelin Proudmoore, Grand Admiral of Kul Tiras, demanded. He stood on the docks of Theramore Harbour, sea-green eyes squinted against the light rain that rolled from the brim of his tricorn hat and missed his brown and grey salted hair.
Jaina, her robes still crusted with naga ichor from the battle she’d just hurried from, tried not to scream. “Rexxar is a half-ogre, actually, one of the Mok’Nathal. Their history as a people is fascinating--”
“Girl, I don’t need to know their family trees to shoot them,” her father said shortly. “Why’d you let them run? I had them in my sights. Did you know they destroyed all the Marsh defenses?”
“I did, Da,” Jaina said, taking a breath. “I let them go because they’re agents of my ally, Warchief Thrall. You had no right to attack them, not here.”
“Pull the other one,” Daelin said, disbelieving. “They’re damned orcs, and trolls too, and bears, by the look of them. They’re starting up the Horde again, and if they aren’t stopped here, they’ll bowl right over the Eastern Kingdoms.”
“They have reassembled the Horde, but things are different now!” Jaina’s voice rose above the barked orders of sailors, and for a moment, all was silent as she added, “They’re not a danger to you or anyone else. Call off the attack.”
“Are you daft?” Daelin demanded. “They’re orcs, girl. I know you’ve spent years with your head in the books, but I thought I’d raised you practical.” Her father began to pace, even as she bristled at his tone and his question. “I hate to say it, but Genn might have had the right idea, all those years ago. Terenas was too soft on ‘em, keeping them alive. They broke out of the Camps, you know, and rampaged through Hillsbrad killin’ and burnin’ ‘til they stole ships to go to Kalimdor. Innocent people died to them.”
“I’m just going to assume you’ve never actually met Aedelas Blackmoore or most of those prison guards if you’re calling them innocent,” Jaina fired back, and her father stopped in mid-stride. “I can’t condone genocide, Da. I won’t.”
“Did y’know that Lordaeron has fallen,” Daelin demanded. “That Terenas and most of the court is dead, the city in ruins?”
“I did, yes,” Jaina said. “But I don’t--”
“Then did y’know about Dalaran and Quel’thalas?”
Jaina sucked in a breath, and it was like being stabbed straight in the gut. Reflexively, she put a hand over her stomach. No, that’s over with. The pain’s gone now.
“They’re dead. Your teacher, Antonidas. The elven king, Anasterian. Kelnar.” His voice caught, broke. Jaina’s heart ached. “Far too many dead and gone.”
“I didn’t know the details of the Scourge rampage, but I grieve for all the fallen,” Jaina replied, her voice rough with anguish. He didn’t mention Finn or Kael, maybe they made it. Kylian? His father? “That doesn’t change anything here, though.”
“Doesn’t it?” Daelin snapped. “I let you have the fleet because you said you needed it to protect people, an’ what protecting have you actually done? You’re sittin’ here, defending orcs instead of protecting your family and your friends. How? Why?”
A shape; huge, violet and angry, looming overhead. She mocked it, of course she did. Nothing stands against a Proudmoore. Nothing and no one, even when doing the standing itself was suicide.
“I was protecting them. Da, when I came here it wasn’t just looking for an artifact or a tome… it was to stand against the greatest evil imaginable. It was to protect people and places… to protect Azeroth itself. It took everything we had. People, supplies, even the ships were partially disassembled because it didn’t matter if we couldn’t sail back if we were going to die at Hyjal.” Jaina’s voice cracked as memory of victory was blurred by fever and pain. “You can’t fully understand the cost. We stayed in Kalimdor because leaving would have cost us more, needless lives, and many of these people had their homes destroyed. Theramore is their home now, their safe haven.”
Daelin shook his head in denial, and anger welled up inside Jaina at his willfulness. “By stayin’ here, so near to the orcs, your people are in more danger. I can’t deny that if you’ve really lost so much, it’ll be too difficult to bring people back, but I’ve got enough men to help you fight them.”
“Have you heard nothing I’ve said?!” Jaina cried. “I don’t need you to defend me because there’s nothing to defend against! The Horde doesn’t want to fight, Thrall doesn’t want to fight!”
The wind picked up, and the rain, already cold, became icy, droplets hardening and freezing into a thousand tiny needles as Daelin’s expression twisted in disbelief and anger. “This goes beyond the pale, sprog. Negligence, going over to the enemy… I can’t forgive this easily.”
“I’ve never been a traitor in my life,” Jaina hissed, her fists clenching. “Not when Arthas begged me to help him slaughter his own people, not when Kael decided it was my fault that Arthas burned Stratholme. I know Thrall, we’re friends. He wants this peace just as much as I do, and he’s fought just as hard for his home. I can’t help you, Da, and moreover, I won’t.”
“You’re naive, girl,” Daelin replied, and Jaina saw no understanding in her father’s face. No concession, no compromise. Nothing but the anger and hate that had been there from the moment he’d seen green flesh. Her heart sank. “If you won’t help me, then I’ll just defend your city m’self.” Daelin put his fingers to his lips and whistles sharply.
“No, no.” The denial spilled from Jaina’s lips as the forces previously restricted to the ships marched from them, dozens and dozens -- hundreds -- of Tiran uniforms flooding over the docks as marines moved forward. One of the officers went to Daelin for orders.
Jaina barely heard them, but she did hear the result: Theran citizens were confined to their homes for their own safety. War was coming, and they needed to be safe.
More than anything, Jaina wanted to scream.
~ * ~
“Jaina, I--”
“He treated me like a child,” Jaina said, her voice strained, though she held back tears. She’d cried all too much during that first Winter, and she wouldn’t do it a second time. “He stomped all over my sovereignty as though it were a sand castle. He was using my home… my home for a war that didn’t need to be fought. He just wouldn’t listen.”
Tandred, wordless, gripped Jaina’s foot in comfort and sympathy. She took a breath, and continued, staring into the dregs of her tea.
“I couldn’t fight him. I couldn’t take up arms against Da, but I couldn’t support him either. I couldn’t do nothing. I remembered that story about Derek and the slavers, and what he decided to do in a bad spot.”
“There’s no good that comes from breaking rules because you can, but there’s some in learning what rules are worth breaking,” Tandred murmured, and Jaina nodded.
“Once I’d decided, there was only one thing I could do after that.”
“What was it?” Tandred asked softly. “What did you decide to do?”
~ * ~
“Thrall, we need to speak,” Jaina said, trying to keep her voice soft. All around her, trolls, some weeping, others painfully silent, were filing past, escorted by Kor’kron and other Horde warriors. She could see Rexxar, his large, broad features stoic to the point of grimness; Rokhan, angry and muttering; and Chen, his muzzle wrinkled into a frown that didn’t suit the usually merry Pandaren.
“Of course, Jaina,” Thrall said, and she could see that his smile was strained, and her heart sank. He beckoned to Cairne, who strode over, every two or three steps punctuated by the booming of distant cannons as her father’s fleet was busy destroying the Darkspear’s second home.
Jaina had liked the Echo Isles, and grieved the loss of each hut as though it were her own tower being demolished by uncaring forces. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. How bad were the casualties?”
“Not as bad as they could have been,” Thrall replied wearily, and let the Doomhammer rest on one broad shoulder. “Vol’jin worked powerful magic, but he’s exhausted now, and I can’t ask another to do the same. We have nothing to fight the human fleets. We are not sailors, as you know.”
Is he accusing-- no, it’s true. Orcs can’t sail worth a damn and most of them are afraid of the ocean itself. “Those aren’t Theran ships, Thrall, I promise you… but the truth is worse. That’s my father’s fleet out there, filled with trained Tiran marines.”
“Rexxar said you knew nothing of the attacks… I didn’t think you did, Jaina. I knew you wouldn’t do this.” Thrall’s features relaxed into a small, but real, smile. “But thank you for the warning.”
“No, it’s worse than that,” Jaina said. “He’s taken Theramore, he’s using it as a… command post. He’s got the city under martial law and he won’t listen to me. He’s angry and he’s stubborn and he won’t settle for anything less than annihilation.”
“Like young Grom, once,” Cairne murmured, even as Thrall stared at her in shocked disbelief. “Was the war of old so bad?”
“My father lost much,” Jaina replied. “He’s been irreparably damaged by war.”
“Murdering my people will not repair that damage,” Thrall said, a hint of a growl to his tone. “No more than Grom killing humans was the appropriate cure for his bloodlust.”
“I know that,” Jaina said, and there was desperation in her voice, fear and despair. “Thrall, he’s my father, I love him, but not for this. I can’t fight him, I don’t have the stomach for it, or frankly the forces.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know what to do.”
Thrall’s shoulders slumped briefly, and Jaina watched as his expression changed a half-dozen times. “Then we have to, Jaina. I’m sorry.”
“Not without ships,” Jaina murmured, the words slipping out. “Theramore’s an island, and he has a third of the fleet, including his own flagship. Unless the spirits…”
“Not without terrible cost,” Thrall said bleakly. “Or a lot of luck.”
There must be something… Jaina thought, and it hit her, even as it struck like a blow. “You don’t need to own ships. You just need to find someone else who does. I.... I have an idea, but it may cost you.”
“It can’t cost more than losing everything we’ve built in a day,” Thrall said. “Please, tell me.”
“The goblins,” Jaina began. “They don’t just have engineers and lumberjacks. They have mercenary companies for hire, including ships, with captain and crew if you can pay for it. I’ll go to them and make arrangements now. If you’ll pay them, I’ll make sure they aren’t charging you unfairly. I might as well use what influence I can for good.”
“We’ve friends among the goblins,” Thrall said. “They’ll surely listen without your help.” Jaina shook her head.
“Friendship and business are two entirely different things,” she replied. “I’ll go to Ratchet and have them draw up contracts, then you can sign them and arrange payment.. It will be as fair as I can make it, I promise.”
“Jaina…” Thrall’s voice was soft, and filled with so much compassion that it made her heart ache. “These goblins… they know you through your family, don’t they?”
“My father’s family, yes,” Jaina replied steadily. “The Steamwheedle and the Proudmoores have long held a close working relationship but… that doesn’t mean that they won’t do what they think they have to.”
“I’m sorry, Jaina, this… isn’t your fault.” Thrall’s eyes, blue as the skies of Durotar on a clear day, searched her expression. “You’re doing what you can and I thank you for that. For my sake, and that of my people.”
“I haven’t got the contracts yet,” Jaina murmured, trying not to feel numb. “Don’t thank me when there’s still a war to be fought.”
~ * ~
Tandred was silent, and still. Anger, disbelief, and despair flickered across his expression. Jaina watched him, and even as her heart ached, she refused to lie or spare herself.
“It took some work, but the goblins agreed to do it at cost. Thrall’s hired mercenaries helped drive off the fleet and ran the blockade Da had put up around Theramore. They wouldn’t engage in ship to ship combat, not directly with Tiran forces, but they didn’t have to. Thrall’s intention was to confront Da directly, to make him see. With people forced into their homes already, I used my magic to protect them from fire or stray cannon-shot or arrows. I didn’t want there to be… accidents.”
“You let the orcs invade your own home.”
“Da was the invader!” Jaina insisted. “Don’t be like him, please, Tandred. Just… listen.”
~ * ~
It felt as though the whole world were weeping with her: the wind blew through the courtyard of Theramore Keep, carrying with it salt and rain. In her arms, she could feel her father’s shaking as he tried to reach for his gun.
Rexxar loomed overhead, watching in case her father attacked again. The battle had been brief but intense, with Thrall’s intent to negotiate interrupted by Admiral Proudmoore’s desire to fight. Her father had stood little chance, though she’d pleaded with him to the last.
Now she was here, feeling the very life leak from him and there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t remember when she’d started crying, but she wept now, watching his face go slack and still.
“Da, why?” she whispered, heart and voice both broken by grief. “Why didn’t you listen to me?” He didn’t even look at her as he died, just towards his weapon. She shook, with anguish, with frustration. Is it not enough for you to fall? Do you have to be so cursed stubborn, right to the end? Is there no lesson at death’s door, no enlightenment before Mother Ocean takes you? Why, Da? Why did you have to do this?
She missed what Thrall was saying, his voice gentle in ways that tore the rents in her soul wider. The next thing he said was firmer. “The Horde will leave Theramore now, leaving you to clean up your dead, to rebuild. We will never return again. You need never fear invasion. It’s over.”
There seemed to be nothing to say to that, and she simply returned to staring at her father, and one by one, the Horde forces left. Shakily, she closed her father’s eyes, and as she glanced up, one of the Kor’Kron had fallen into step beside Thrall. She heard nothing over wind and rain, but whatever it was made Thrall angry.
I wonder who that is? she thought absently, and looked down at her father again, and curiosity gave way to grief once more.
~ * ~
“Jaina…”
“The days after that were a blur,” Jaina said softly, as if he hadn’t spoken. “We had to clean up the dead… though it’s not as bad as it could have been. My magic did its job, protecting the homes we’d built, but there was still… other battle damage. Still bodies. That was the first time I’d used the ash-water since Hyjal. Every name was recorded, every person had their own grave. I had to build a specific mausoleum for the Tiran dead. I couldn’t… put them in the war memorial.”
“And Da?” Tandred asked, his voice choked. “Did you use your ash-water on him?”
“No,” Jaina whispered. “I… I couldn’t. From Father Sky and Mother Ocean we come, and to Them we return. I had pipers, and one of our ships instead of his, but we wrapped him in his standard and sent him back to Her.”
“Thank you.”
Jaina wiped at her eyes. “I had company for a week or two before they left on the tide, then I had to… to go back to business as usual. Thrall and I didn’t speak for some time after that day. I believed that things had been broken between us. Certainly, there were those who looked to the orcs with more suspicion now, more… distrust. The orcs likely felt the same about us. That Winter, many of the veteran orc warriors died.”
“Died? Why? Retaliation?”
“Depression. Traumatic stress related to their past actions. When they had still been afflicted by the demon blood, it carried them through everything. Even injury, even remorse. With the Lethargy, they remembered little and were barely able to function. A contrast between the manic and the depressive. With the haze cleared, they… remembered, and they were so, so sorry.”
“I’ve heard of such things before,” Tandred said. “Some sailors, some soldiers. They think on what they’ve done, what they see and experience, and it breaks them utterly. Did they have no healers to advise them and treat them?”
“The warriors were too ashamed to speak of it,” Jaina replied. “Thrall didn’t know… he’s so young, and many of his mentors simply wouldn’t speak of it. We discussed it later, but at the time… he thought there was a serial killer loose in Orgrimmar, another tragedy to be piled on top of others. Once he knew, there was more he could do. Shamans to advise people and heal their souls. Shamanism has long been the heart of orc culture, and the first sign of corruption is rejecting their principles.”
“I didn’t think you were much for religion,” Tandred noted, and Jaina quirked a smile.
“It’s a fascinating field of study, and one I've spent a great deal of time on.” Jaina’s smile faltered, and she sighed. “But there’s more, and… I thought you did it on purpose, as retaliation, as punishment, but if you really didn’t know…”
“Did what?” Tandred asked. “What happened after that?”
Jaina took a deep breath, and stared into the remains of her tea. “Three weeks after my previous guest had left, I met Jonathan.”
[ Chapter 6]
Title: Unity: Stormcaller
Part: 5/8+Epilogue
Word Count: 4430
Includes: Spoilers for the Bonus Orc Campaign, character death, violence, strong language.
Pairings: Implied Thrall/Jaina, Jaina/OMC.
Summary: During the Late Winter of the 27th year after the opening of the Dark Portal, something dark and sinister calls terrible storms to lash the coast of Kalimdor, its source seemingly Jaina's old home: Kul Tiras. Vowing to do what is right, rather than take an easier path, Jaina returns home to speak to her estranged family and protect her family, her allies, and her own people from the Stormcaller.
Previous: Unity Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
Stormcaller Chapters: 1 2 3 4
Jaina collected her thoughts slowly, gathering them like her power. It’s not as though I didn’t spend all too long dwelling on it, and still do when things are too quiet, but… “We fought the demons at Hyjal, as I said. We weren’t sure if we’d survive, but we did. Then we had to find a place to live. Hyjal had once been the primary city for the elves, they moved more fully into Ashenvale to contemplate their mortality and mend what had been broken. Thrall and I moved south to different places that weren’t occupied. I tracked down the most powerful unoccupied ley nexus in Kalimdor and built my city on top of it. It was a small island and we had to dredge up land from the sea to make it bigger and more suited to our purposes. That was tricky on its own. Magic helps.”
“I don’t doubt it… and I shouldn’t be surprised you wanted an island kingdom by the sea… and that you’d live under no one’s rule but your own.” Tandred took a long drink from his mug and made a face. “It’s cold.”
“You’ll survive,” Jaina chided him, and thought back. “Thrall picked land further south, though also along the coast. It’s hot and dry there, but the land is healthy and strong, the soil rich and red. I named my island Theramore, and he named his land Durotar, after his father Durotan.”
Tandred gave her a look, and she returned one, drinking her own cooling tea. “Does anyone realize you named your island ‘This Land’ in Old Arathi?”
“If they have, I haven’t been called on it yet.” She smiled proudly. “But it’s a good city, and a good island. I was able to confirm my own theories about pre-planning cities and building them along specific lines. Protection spells can be vastly expanded when they’re woven into the very fabric of the land.”
Tandred whistled softly. “You don’t think small, Sunfish.”
“No, and if anything, I’m going to put more work into expanding the wards.” Jaina balanced her mug between her knees and tugged back the left sleeve of her bathing robe, revealing a long, twining strand of blue and purple beads. “These are the physical representations of the arcane wards. I’ll be able to feel them if something happens here, but I can only manipulate the wards directly while I’m inside them. It’s limiting, but necessary. I can draw on the ley nexus directly too.”
“Is that dangerous?” Tandred asked, frowning. “It sounds dangerous.”
“Life is risk,” Jaina said firmly. Tandred rolled his eyes, and she ignored him. “If I may continue… Thrall visited Theramore to ask the blessing of the spirits, and when he broke ground for Orgrimmar, I visited him. He made me make a speech.” She made a face.
“You poor thing,” Tandred murmured. “Orgrimmar?”
“They named their city after Orgrim Doomhammer, who had been Thrall’s mentor before he was killed fighting to free people from the Camps. Thrall was his chosen successor. We spent so much time busy, we were both building cities. I was experimenting with something new, but I’d designs to call up, and magic to help. Thrall’s people did all of their work by hand, and they needed the goblins to teach them how to build a city in the first place, though Gazlowe is very competent.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t know themselves,” Tandred noted, frowning. “I suppose they built none here, but on Draenor…”
“Draenor was a wasteland by the time they left, and even before that, resources were so scarce that living in one place, drawing constantly from the land, and hoping to draw in enough from farms would have killed them.” Jaina toyed with her sleeve and released it, reaching for her mug again. “Thrall said it was reading about cities that made him want one, and more… he wanted his people united, not split off by clan, especially with so many not even sure which clan they were from. The Camp years were brutal to them, and cruel.”
“The last part may be obvious, but how do you know about the rest?” Tandred asked, and Jaina raised an eyebrow.
“Well, I asked, and Thrall told me of it. His clan remembers, and many of the elders that survived. He has a… source he didn’t name that he said granted him a much less flattering impression of Draenor than Grom or Orgrim ever did, but he needed to hear it, I think.”
“Did he not tell you who, or do you not know?” Tandred asked, and Jaina smiled briefly.
“I have theories, but I need more data. In any case, I was busy, building, in meetings, signing trade agreements and treaties between my own forces, the Horde, and the Kaldorei leaders, who had to be placated in some ways, and were intensely grateful in others. We’d saved their lands, and even though I was a mage, and Thrall was an orc, they respected us, and we started changing their opinions with our own attitudes. Positive representation helps.”
“I’d imagine so,” Tandred mused, and then tensed. “So when did…”
“It was during the Late Autumn, I… didn’t know, not at first.” Jaina looks down, and the smile drains from her. “Da may have come looking for me, but he found the orcs first, and immediately planned to attack them.”
“Is this something you know, or something Thrall told you?”
“It’s what Thrall’s agents told me when they showed up on my very doorstep, bearing word from Thrall himself. His agents -- Rexxar, and Rokhan -- had been sent to investigate a disturbance regarding some of the native animals. Thunderlizards. It turned out to be caused by humans gathering lumber in Durotar, which is forbidden by the treaties Thrall and I signed.”
“...and then they killed them,” Tandred remarked, cynicism tinging his words, and Jaina nudged him with her foot.
“They remained completely untouched, attacking intruders is forbidden as well,” Jaina replied sternly. “Rexxar brought the information to Thrall who said they should investigate further. Rexxar and his companions found slaughtered orc settlements along the coast.” Jaina’s voice shook with anger, and she gripped her mug more tightly. “Finally, even as Thrall was advised to send riders out to slaughter the humans, the humans sent an ambassador to ‘parley’ with him… and it was an ambush, though Thrall didn’t attend personally. Rexxar did, and is in fact very difficult to ambush.”
“Did you confirm any of this?” Tandred asked, his voice low, angry, and afraid. “Before you took an orc’s word over your kin?”
“I had testimony from Rexxar, who was there personally for the attempted assassination,” Jaina retorted, her eyes flashing. “If I could continue?” Tandred muttered indistinctly, but nodded. “Thrall was determined to find answers as to what was going on, so he sent Rexxar and his companions to me with a letter, asking what had happened.”
“So, you’re telling me that in the face of finding out that treaties had been violated, people had been killed, and a diplomatic meeting was used as an excuse for an ambush, Thrall’s response was to write you a note?” Tandred asked, disbelieving. “You expect me to believe you?”
“It was a strongly worded note,” Jaina replied, a hint of defensiveness in her tone. “He seemed quite upset.”
“This is completely ridiculous,” Tandred replied, rolling his eyes. Jaina shot her brother a dark look, but continued.
“Needless to say, I was surprised when they arrived, and more surprised to learn that there were other humans in Kalimdor at all, much less in Dustwallow Marsh,” Jaina said, and her gaze grew distant. “To get to me, they’d needed to destroy the defenses of the camped forces, and by the time I arrived, they’d been attacked by naga and taken as prisoners.”
“Naga are those fish creatures we fought earlier, correct?” Tandred asked, frowning again. Jaina nodded.
“They are, and they used to be elves by all reports. I suspect that they’ve been spotted on and off for centuries by sailors, thus leading to the creation of mermaid mythology, though I’d imagine the fact that they have been described as more human looking is related to an unwillingness to admit they’d been seduced by snake women.”
“They do seem to be far less attractive than pretty girls with fishtails,” Tandred admitted, and under the blanket, Jaina poked him with a toe. Tandred poked the sole of her foot in reply.
“In any case, I followed the trail left by the naga and found where they’d kept the survivors. One of them recognized me, asking how I was there at all, and… I realized what was happening too late. I teleported back to Theramore as fast as I could, but…” Jaina shook her head. “Da sailed the Azure Shards right up to harbour, and of course, no one stopped him or questioned it. He spotted Rexxar and the others and tried to attack them. I distracted him so they could escape.”
Tandred’s expression was dark and angry. “Then what happened?”
Jaina’s eyes squeezed closed as she remembered.
~ * ~
“Why in the name of all the dark hells are there ogres in this city?” Daelin Proudmoore, Grand Admiral of Kul Tiras, demanded. He stood on the docks of Theramore Harbour, sea-green eyes squinted against the light rain that rolled from the brim of his tricorn hat and missed his brown and grey salted hair.
Jaina, her robes still crusted with naga ichor from the battle she’d just hurried from, tried not to scream. “Rexxar is a half-ogre, actually, one of the Mok’Nathal. Their history as a people is fascinating--”
“Girl, I don’t need to know their family trees to shoot them,” her father said shortly. “Why’d you let them run? I had them in my sights. Did you know they destroyed all the Marsh defenses?”
“I did, Da,” Jaina said, taking a breath. “I let them go because they’re agents of my ally, Warchief Thrall. You had no right to attack them, not here.”
“Pull the other one,” Daelin said, disbelieving. “They’re damned orcs, and trolls too, and bears, by the look of them. They’re starting up the Horde again, and if they aren’t stopped here, they’ll bowl right over the Eastern Kingdoms.”
“They have reassembled the Horde, but things are different now!” Jaina’s voice rose above the barked orders of sailors, and for a moment, all was silent as she added, “They’re not a danger to you or anyone else. Call off the attack.”
“Are you daft?” Daelin demanded. “They’re orcs, girl. I know you’ve spent years with your head in the books, but I thought I’d raised you practical.” Her father began to pace, even as she bristled at his tone and his question. “I hate to say it, but Genn might have had the right idea, all those years ago. Terenas was too soft on ‘em, keeping them alive. They broke out of the Camps, you know, and rampaged through Hillsbrad killin’ and burnin’ ‘til they stole ships to go to Kalimdor. Innocent people died to them.”
“I’m just going to assume you’ve never actually met Aedelas Blackmoore or most of those prison guards if you’re calling them innocent,” Jaina fired back, and her father stopped in mid-stride. “I can’t condone genocide, Da. I won’t.”
“Did y’know that Lordaeron has fallen,” Daelin demanded. “That Terenas and most of the court is dead, the city in ruins?”
“I did, yes,” Jaina said. “But I don’t--”
“Then did y’know about Dalaran and Quel’thalas?”
Jaina sucked in a breath, and it was like being stabbed straight in the gut. Reflexively, she put a hand over her stomach. No, that’s over with. The pain’s gone now.
“They’re dead. Your teacher, Antonidas. The elven king, Anasterian. Kelnar.” His voice caught, broke. Jaina’s heart ached. “Far too many dead and gone.”
“I didn’t know the details of the Scourge rampage, but I grieve for all the fallen,” Jaina replied, her voice rough with anguish. He didn’t mention Finn or Kael, maybe they made it. Kylian? His father? “That doesn’t change anything here, though.”
“Doesn’t it?” Daelin snapped. “I let you have the fleet because you said you needed it to protect people, an’ what protecting have you actually done? You’re sittin’ here, defending orcs instead of protecting your family and your friends. How? Why?”
A shape; huge, violet and angry, looming overhead. She mocked it, of course she did. Nothing stands against a Proudmoore. Nothing and no one, even when doing the standing itself was suicide.
“I was protecting them. Da, when I came here it wasn’t just looking for an artifact or a tome… it was to stand against the greatest evil imaginable. It was to protect people and places… to protect Azeroth itself. It took everything we had. People, supplies, even the ships were partially disassembled because it didn’t matter if we couldn’t sail back if we were going to die at Hyjal.” Jaina’s voice cracked as memory of victory was blurred by fever and pain. “You can’t fully understand the cost. We stayed in Kalimdor because leaving would have cost us more, needless lives, and many of these people had their homes destroyed. Theramore is their home now, their safe haven.”
Daelin shook his head in denial, and anger welled up inside Jaina at his willfulness. “By stayin’ here, so near to the orcs, your people are in more danger. I can’t deny that if you’ve really lost so much, it’ll be too difficult to bring people back, but I’ve got enough men to help you fight them.”
“Have you heard nothing I’ve said?!” Jaina cried. “I don’t need you to defend me because there’s nothing to defend against! The Horde doesn’t want to fight, Thrall doesn’t want to fight!”
The wind picked up, and the rain, already cold, became icy, droplets hardening and freezing into a thousand tiny needles as Daelin’s expression twisted in disbelief and anger. “This goes beyond the pale, sprog. Negligence, going over to the enemy… I can’t forgive this easily.”
“I’ve never been a traitor in my life,” Jaina hissed, her fists clenching. “Not when Arthas begged me to help him slaughter his own people, not when Kael decided it was my fault that Arthas burned Stratholme. I know Thrall, we’re friends. He wants this peace just as much as I do, and he’s fought just as hard for his home. I can’t help you, Da, and moreover, I won’t.”
“You’re naive, girl,” Daelin replied, and Jaina saw no understanding in her father’s face. No concession, no compromise. Nothing but the anger and hate that had been there from the moment he’d seen green flesh. Her heart sank. “If you won’t help me, then I’ll just defend your city m’self.” Daelin put his fingers to his lips and whistles sharply.
“No, no.” The denial spilled from Jaina’s lips as the forces previously restricted to the ships marched from them, dozens and dozens -- hundreds -- of Tiran uniforms flooding over the docks as marines moved forward. One of the officers went to Daelin for orders.
Jaina barely heard them, but she did hear the result: Theran citizens were confined to their homes for their own safety. War was coming, and they needed to be safe.
More than anything, Jaina wanted to scream.
~ * ~
“Jaina, I--”
“He treated me like a child,” Jaina said, her voice strained, though she held back tears. She’d cried all too much during that first Winter, and she wouldn’t do it a second time. “He stomped all over my sovereignty as though it were a sand castle. He was using my home… my home for a war that didn’t need to be fought. He just wouldn’t listen.”
Tandred, wordless, gripped Jaina’s foot in comfort and sympathy. She took a breath, and continued, staring into the dregs of her tea.
“I couldn’t fight him. I couldn’t take up arms against Da, but I couldn’t support him either. I couldn’t do nothing. I remembered that story about Derek and the slavers, and what he decided to do in a bad spot.”
“There’s no good that comes from breaking rules because you can, but there’s some in learning what rules are worth breaking,” Tandred murmured, and Jaina nodded.
“Once I’d decided, there was only one thing I could do after that.”
“What was it?” Tandred asked softly. “What did you decide to do?”
~ * ~
“Thrall, we need to speak,” Jaina said, trying to keep her voice soft. All around her, trolls, some weeping, others painfully silent, were filing past, escorted by Kor’kron and other Horde warriors. She could see Rexxar, his large, broad features stoic to the point of grimness; Rokhan, angry and muttering; and Chen, his muzzle wrinkled into a frown that didn’t suit the usually merry Pandaren.
“Of course, Jaina,” Thrall said, and she could see that his smile was strained, and her heart sank. He beckoned to Cairne, who strode over, every two or three steps punctuated by the booming of distant cannons as her father’s fleet was busy destroying the Darkspear’s second home.
Jaina had liked the Echo Isles, and grieved the loss of each hut as though it were her own tower being demolished by uncaring forces. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. How bad were the casualties?”
“Not as bad as they could have been,” Thrall replied wearily, and let the Doomhammer rest on one broad shoulder. “Vol’jin worked powerful magic, but he’s exhausted now, and I can’t ask another to do the same. We have nothing to fight the human fleets. We are not sailors, as you know.”
Is he accusing-- no, it’s true. Orcs can’t sail worth a damn and most of them are afraid of the ocean itself. “Those aren’t Theran ships, Thrall, I promise you… but the truth is worse. That’s my father’s fleet out there, filled with trained Tiran marines.”
“Rexxar said you knew nothing of the attacks… I didn’t think you did, Jaina. I knew you wouldn’t do this.” Thrall’s features relaxed into a small, but real, smile. “But thank you for the warning.”
“No, it’s worse than that,” Jaina said. “He’s taken Theramore, he’s using it as a… command post. He’s got the city under martial law and he won’t listen to me. He’s angry and he’s stubborn and he won’t settle for anything less than annihilation.”
“Like young Grom, once,” Cairne murmured, even as Thrall stared at her in shocked disbelief. “Was the war of old so bad?”
“My father lost much,” Jaina replied. “He’s been irreparably damaged by war.”
“Murdering my people will not repair that damage,” Thrall said, a hint of a growl to his tone. “No more than Grom killing humans was the appropriate cure for his bloodlust.”
“I know that,” Jaina said, and there was desperation in her voice, fear and despair. “Thrall, he’s my father, I love him, but not for this. I can’t fight him, I don’t have the stomach for it, or frankly the forces.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know what to do.”
Thrall’s shoulders slumped briefly, and Jaina watched as his expression changed a half-dozen times. “Then we have to, Jaina. I’m sorry.”
“Not without ships,” Jaina murmured, the words slipping out. “Theramore’s an island, and he has a third of the fleet, including his own flagship. Unless the spirits…”
“Not without terrible cost,” Thrall said bleakly. “Or a lot of luck.”
There must be something… Jaina thought, and it hit her, even as it struck like a blow. “You don’t need to own ships. You just need to find someone else who does. I.... I have an idea, but it may cost you.”
“It can’t cost more than losing everything we’ve built in a day,” Thrall said. “Please, tell me.”
“The goblins,” Jaina began. “They don’t just have engineers and lumberjacks. They have mercenary companies for hire, including ships, with captain and crew if you can pay for it. I’ll go to them and make arrangements now. If you’ll pay them, I’ll make sure they aren’t charging you unfairly. I might as well use what influence I can for good.”
“We’ve friends among the goblins,” Thrall said. “They’ll surely listen without your help.” Jaina shook her head.
“Friendship and business are two entirely different things,” she replied. “I’ll go to Ratchet and have them draw up contracts, then you can sign them and arrange payment.. It will be as fair as I can make it, I promise.”
“Jaina…” Thrall’s voice was soft, and filled with so much compassion that it made her heart ache. “These goblins… they know you through your family, don’t they?”
“My father’s family, yes,” Jaina replied steadily. “The Steamwheedle and the Proudmoores have long held a close working relationship but… that doesn’t mean that they won’t do what they think they have to.”
“I’m sorry, Jaina, this… isn’t your fault.” Thrall’s eyes, blue as the skies of Durotar on a clear day, searched her expression. “You’re doing what you can and I thank you for that. For my sake, and that of my people.”
“I haven’t got the contracts yet,” Jaina murmured, trying not to feel numb. “Don’t thank me when there’s still a war to be fought.”
~ * ~
Tandred was silent, and still. Anger, disbelief, and despair flickered across his expression. Jaina watched him, and even as her heart ached, she refused to lie or spare herself.
“It took some work, but the goblins agreed to do it at cost. Thrall’s hired mercenaries helped drive off the fleet and ran the blockade Da had put up around Theramore. They wouldn’t engage in ship to ship combat, not directly with Tiran forces, but they didn’t have to. Thrall’s intention was to confront Da directly, to make him see. With people forced into their homes already, I used my magic to protect them from fire or stray cannon-shot or arrows. I didn’t want there to be… accidents.”
“You let the orcs invade your own home.”
“Da was the invader!” Jaina insisted. “Don’t be like him, please, Tandred. Just… listen.”
~ * ~
It felt as though the whole world were weeping with her: the wind blew through the courtyard of Theramore Keep, carrying with it salt and rain. In her arms, she could feel her father’s shaking as he tried to reach for his gun.
Rexxar loomed overhead, watching in case her father attacked again. The battle had been brief but intense, with Thrall’s intent to negotiate interrupted by Admiral Proudmoore’s desire to fight. Her father had stood little chance, though she’d pleaded with him to the last.
Now she was here, feeling the very life leak from him and there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t remember when she’d started crying, but she wept now, watching his face go slack and still.
“Da, why?” she whispered, heart and voice both broken by grief. “Why didn’t you listen to me?” He didn’t even look at her as he died, just towards his weapon. She shook, with anguish, with frustration. Is it not enough for you to fall? Do you have to be so cursed stubborn, right to the end? Is there no lesson at death’s door, no enlightenment before Mother Ocean takes you? Why, Da? Why did you have to do this?
She missed what Thrall was saying, his voice gentle in ways that tore the rents in her soul wider. The next thing he said was firmer. “The Horde will leave Theramore now, leaving you to clean up your dead, to rebuild. We will never return again. You need never fear invasion. It’s over.”
There seemed to be nothing to say to that, and she simply returned to staring at her father, and one by one, the Horde forces left. Shakily, she closed her father’s eyes, and as she glanced up, one of the Kor’Kron had fallen into step beside Thrall. She heard nothing over wind and rain, but whatever it was made Thrall angry.
I wonder who that is? she thought absently, and looked down at her father again, and curiosity gave way to grief once more.
~ * ~
“Jaina…”
“The days after that were a blur,” Jaina said softly, as if he hadn’t spoken. “We had to clean up the dead… though it’s not as bad as it could have been. My magic did its job, protecting the homes we’d built, but there was still… other battle damage. Still bodies. That was the first time I’d used the ash-water since Hyjal. Every name was recorded, every person had their own grave. I had to build a specific mausoleum for the Tiran dead. I couldn’t… put them in the war memorial.”
“And Da?” Tandred asked, his voice choked. “Did you use your ash-water on him?”
“No,” Jaina whispered. “I… I couldn’t. From Father Sky and Mother Ocean we come, and to Them we return. I had pipers, and one of our ships instead of his, but we wrapped him in his standard and sent him back to Her.”
“Thank you.”
Jaina wiped at her eyes. “I had company for a week or two before they left on the tide, then I had to… to go back to business as usual. Thrall and I didn’t speak for some time after that day. I believed that things had been broken between us. Certainly, there were those who looked to the orcs with more suspicion now, more… distrust. The orcs likely felt the same about us. That Winter, many of the veteran orc warriors died.”
“Died? Why? Retaliation?”
“Depression. Traumatic stress related to their past actions. When they had still been afflicted by the demon blood, it carried them through everything. Even injury, even remorse. With the Lethargy, they remembered little and were barely able to function. A contrast between the manic and the depressive. With the haze cleared, they… remembered, and they were so, so sorry.”
“I’ve heard of such things before,” Tandred said. “Some sailors, some soldiers. They think on what they’ve done, what they see and experience, and it breaks them utterly. Did they have no healers to advise them and treat them?”
“The warriors were too ashamed to speak of it,” Jaina replied. “Thrall didn’t know… he’s so young, and many of his mentors simply wouldn’t speak of it. We discussed it later, but at the time… he thought there was a serial killer loose in Orgrimmar, another tragedy to be piled on top of others. Once he knew, there was more he could do. Shamans to advise people and heal their souls. Shamanism has long been the heart of orc culture, and the first sign of corruption is rejecting their principles.”
“I didn’t think you were much for religion,” Tandred noted, and Jaina quirked a smile.
“It’s a fascinating field of study, and one I've spent a great deal of time on.” Jaina’s smile faltered, and she sighed. “But there’s more, and… I thought you did it on purpose, as retaliation, as punishment, but if you really didn’t know…”
“Did what?” Tandred asked. “What happened after that?”
Jaina took a deep breath, and stared into the remains of her tea. “Three weeks after my previous guest had left, I met Jonathan.”
[ Chapter 6]