Unity - Chapter 2
parallax_prose wrote a Winter Veil fic (and it's awesome, you should read it. *shooing motion*) with a similar theme to this part of the story, and that's why I decided to start posting. And again, sodzilla helped this be written, we had fun 'IC' conversations between characters for picking gifts.
Title: Unity
Part: 2 of ? (I have no idea. They won't stop talking)
Word Count: 5262 (of this part)
Warnings: Implied sex, actual sex, orc/human, mentioned death and suicide, angst. For this part, utterly shameless fluff.
Pairings: Mentioned Thrall/Others, primarily Thrall/Jaina. Mentioned past Arthas/Jaina and past one-sided Kael/Jaina.
Summary: Thrall introduces Winter Veil formally to Orgrimmar, and hatches a plan to get Jaina a very special gift.
Previous Chapters: 1
"Be careful with that!" Garona snapped, watching as two grunts carefully wrestled a large tree into Grommash Hold. She shook her head as she walked past them, moving over to where Thrall was listening gravely to a tauren elder telling him a story about Greatfather Winter. "They're going to get pine needles everywhere."
"Let those who clean worry about that," Thrall insisted. "What do you have for me?"
"This is ridiculous, for the record," Garona said stiffly, but presented him with a single, folded piece of paper. He opened it, and smiled. "Is that all, Warchief? Do you have some reindeer you want me to rescue?"
"That will be all for now," Thrall said, finding it impossible to have his mood dampened. Winter Veil was in the air, after all. The earliest parts of Winter had been hard on everyone, and Thrall wanted to bring his people closer together. A stray remark from Jaina had reminded Thrall of a yearly event that had punctuated the bitter cold that had represented Winter in Durnholde:
For years, Taretha had snuck through knee-deep snow to bring Thrall a gift - books, often enough, or a new stylus, or a bundle of paper so they could exchange letters for the whole year. She explained that this was Winter Veil, when snow blanketed the world, allowing it to rest, and in the darkest part of the year, people exchanged gifts to keep each other warm. Certainly, each gift had kept Thrall warm when the year would have otherwise been exceptionally dreary, and his first winter with the Frostwolves had been a shock when he realized his people didn't celebrate the longest night formally, and instead spent time meditating on the elements.
It had been a joy to learn that the tauren also celebrated Winter Veil, and were more than willing to teach anyone who would listen about the deeper, inner meaning of the holiday. Durotar, as predicted, was cool but not cold as Lordaeron had been, though the trolls assured him this time of the year was quite miserable to those who'd become accustomed to warmer climates, and he had it on good authority that Theramore's weather was miserable -- sleet over the Marsh and driving winds -- so his invitation would be welcome, to say the least.
Sure enough, the answer to the carefully penned letter -- there had been a second purpose behind not wanting to simply use the runestone -- was positive. Jaina would come here for Winter Veil. Carefully folded inside the letter was a note, scrawled in Garona's handwriting, telling Thrall exactly what he could give Jaina as a gift.
Thrall thanked the elder for finishing his story, though the tauren had simply shaken his head, wondering aloud if Thrall had heard most of it, and the Warchief stood, going out to examine the preparations within the city.
Winter Veil is about memory, Thrall thought. The earth sleeps to remember its strength during the summer months. The people remember what has passed over the rest of the year. He watched as people carefully fastened candles -- green for the growing, red for the warmth of fire and the sun, white for the snow that blankets the coldest parts of the world -- into their holders, hanging wreathes made of whatever they could find that was still green on doors and more. Hesitant greetings were exchanged as Thrall listened, and he smiled more broadly. Winter Veil is about memory, and about friendship, he corrected himself.
"You realize that what you're planning is going to be a nightmare for security," Garona said, her presence unannounced save for her pessimistic comment. Thrall didn't turn.
"The Greatfather Winter figure is important to the celebration," Thrall replied. "He's a centrepiece, even. A necessity."
"You realize you're going to have to spend hours sitting in one place while runny-nosed children sit on your knee and tell you what they want as a gift, don't you?" Garona persisted. "A single mistake..."
"It's a holiday, Garona," Thrall said quietly, and held out his hand. She placed the jacket in his hands -- thick and red, woven in haste by the tauren -- and sighed. "Let the children be children, for once."
"Neither of us had any kind of childhood to speak of," Garona said, and hesitated. "Have you given thought to what you want?"
"I want my people to think of winter as a time of joy and rest, not of death," Thrall replied quietly, turning the jacket over in his hands. "If a word from me will change things, then I'll put those words to good use. An end to war isn't enough, we need to be able to live in a world in peace, at peace."
Garona was silent long enough that Thrall had to see if she was still there. She was, fighting for control of her expression, which usually came as naturally to her as breathing. "I understand," she said, finally.
Thrall straightened. "So then, you'll--"
"Not in your life," Garona snorted.
"It's traditional," Thrall pointed out, pleased that she was as sardonic as usual.
"Fine, if it's traditional, you can wear an undersized vest and tiny shorts, and I will sit on my behind all day, fully clothed and asking what little Grag wants for Winter Veil."
~ * ~
He saw her the moment she arrived: Jaina had foregone her usual garb of blue, purple and white for long, green robes trimmed with white fur, and a thick, white-fur cape. She had a large, wrapped package tucked under one arm, which drew his interest for a moment before continuing to watch her progress. Thrall's invitation had suggested that she teleport to the entrance of Orgrimmar, rather than directly into Grommash Hold, and he sincerely hoped that she would not be disappointed.
"Greatfather Winter, you listening?" asked the child on his lap, and with a start, Thrall looked down. The children had come very reluctantly at first, both intimidated by the prospect of speaking directly to the Warchief and afraid to make requests, but it had only taken one child's courage to bring the rest, and they stood now in a loose circle, watching and waiting for their turn.
"Of course, Targ," Thrall said quietly. Despite her protests to the contrary, Garona was here, fully armed and armored, speaking quietly to Thrall, filling in details so he would know who each child was, though she refused to wear so much as a festive hat. This was Targ, son of Glaag and Grinshka, and he had fallen asleep during the Battle for Hyjal, having been only a child then, but he was much older now. "I'll do what I can to see that you receive a leather ball."
"Thanks," Targ replied, giving him a toothy grin. He hopped off of Thrall's lap after being offered a sweet by one of Thrall's other assistants, a troll that had not been nearly as upset about wearing such a brief outfit.
"Next!" Garona barked out sharply. Thrall sat back, taking the opportunity while he was unoccupied to watch Jaina. There was an expression of wonder on her face, and joy. He watched as she touched over the rough wreathes that people had made, and stopped to hold a hand near the candles. Garona cleared her throat sharply, and then, Thrall brought his focus back to the task at hand.
A few hours later, Thrall stood wearily. Despite how Garona had claimed Thrall had the easy job, it had not been easy to sit in an increasingly more uncomfortable chair, and while he was pleased that the children had grown more bold, they bounced and tugged. He couldn't imagine doing this for more than one day a year. He stretched, groaning.
"It looked like you were having fun," he heard, and Thrall looked over. Jaina was standing a little ways away while children spoke excitedly about what the Warchief had promised them for Winter Veil. "I didn't want to interrupt."
"You're not interrupting," Thrall said, and offered her his hand. She took it. "Welcome, Jaina. Happy Winter Veil."
"Happy Winter Veil," Jaina said. "Thank you for inviting me." She bowed her head briefly, and looked up. "I must admit, I wasn't really in a festive mood until I got your letter."
"We'll change that," Thrall promised. "Allow me find clothing that's a little less distinctive, and I'll show you what Orgrimmar has to offer."
"I think I would like that very much," Jaina replied, and squeezed his arm slightly.
~ * ~
"Winter Veil seems odd without snow," Jaina admitted, accepting the mug of spiced cider from Thrall. She sipped at it carefully. "On the other hand, I didn't expect that you'd actually be able to find a pine tree here."
"It wasn't easy," Thrall admitted. "I had to send warriors to Stonetalon to find something appropriate. The communication crystals you made were a crucial part of the process. Really, this is as much your doing as anyone else's."
Jaina blushed faintly. "I was happy to help. Once you mentioned it, I started setting up networks of portals and communication crystals throughout Dustwallow. Unfortunately, the Night Elves seem fairly reluctant to embrace them, but I've managed to convince Tyrande to take a crystal in case of an emergency."
"That's good, though as you said, they'll be harder to maintain without mages," Thrall said, and hesitantly added, "I can understand why the Night Elves might be reluctant to accept even the most minor of magical artifacts."
Far from offended, Jaina nodded, "So can I. Unfortunately, little progress has been made training messenger hawks or owls; we don't have the skill with animals that they do, and carrier pigeons were not something I thought to bring to Kalimdor. I'm glad Tyrande was willing to trust me."
"She knows you're trustworthy," Thrall said, and smiled. "As do I."
"You both place a great deal of faith in me," Jaina replied softly. "I want to be worthy of it."
"I believe we spend our whole lives feeling as if we haven't quite earned the trust people place in us," Thrall said. "But that's not what today is about. Today is about celebration."
"You've embraced Winter Veil wholeheartedly," Jaina said, her expression lightening as she sipped her cider again. "I'm so impressed, Orgrimmar is beautiful."
"As you said, it's odd without snow, but we're managing," Thrall said. "A feast has been planned. I've fielded a number of complaints about how many we're feeding, but I think the organizers have done a good job of it."
"There's a banquet?" Jaina asked, looking up at him, hope mixed with excitement. Thrall chuckled.
"There is, but that will be later," Thrall promised. "First we have a number of activities to go through."
"Tell me about them," Jaina said, setting her mug aside a moment.
Thrall nodded, and watched her expression closely. "The shamans will be performing a ritual of respect for the sleeping earth. They've asked me to participate, so I'll be sitting with them. It includes singing. Then, Elder Windtotem will be telling the story of Greatfather Winter for the children. I'd hoped you'd want to attend that, and then there will be the banquet, and..." Thrall took a breath. "A surprise."
"A surprise?" Jaina asked, watching him closely. "What kind of surprise?"
"It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you," Thrall said, and stood. "I promise you that you'll enjoy it."
"Well, I trust you," Jaina conceded. "But I'll have you know I don't much like surprises."
"I'll try not to disappoint you," Thrall said, and offered her his arm. She stood and took it.
"I trust you," Jaina murmured.
~ * ~
Thrall could feel the drumming within his own heartbeat, the sound moving through his veins. One by one, the shamans lifted their heads and began to sing, and Thrall added his not-indistinct timbre to the mix. Heads began to lift as he sang, thanking the earth for accepting them here and granting them the gift of food, hearth, peace and joy. He offered promises: that the Horde would take care of this land, and never take too much, nor give too little.
Slowly, the drums fell off, only to be replaced with another kind of song: one singer began, and the others began to join in. It was not a song of Winter, but a song of heroes: they sang of Grom. Closing his eyes against the heavy feeling of sorrow, Thrall sang with them, adding his own voice as he named Grom's deeds, including the slaying of Mannoroth.
Softly, threaded through the deeper voices of the orcs, Thrall heard a soft, breathy alto join in with the chorus. He opened his eyes to see Jaina singing softly, tears shining in her eyes. He nodded to her, and a new song began. Many heroes had fallen to bring them to this winter, and Thrall sang for each of them.
It was hours later, and Thrall's voice was hoarse by the time it ended. Windtotem began to gather the children and encouraged him to sit with him, while Thrall carefully moved out of the circle, leaving more room. He sat beside Jaina, who was wiping discreetly at her eyes.
"I miss him," Thrall said simply. "We wouldn't be where we are now without him... in more ways than one, unfortunately."
"Remember him as a hero," Jaina said softly. "It was how he died, it's what he deserved. Thrall, that was beautiful. I've never heard anything like that."
"My people enjoy singing," Thrall said with pride. "A song is something you can carry with you."
"It... it certainly is," Jaina said shakily, and Thrall gave her a sideways looks.
"What's the matter?" he asked quietly, but before Jaina could open her mouth to respond, Windtotem cleared his throat.
"Children of the Horde, our honoured Warchief Thrall, son of Durotan, has asked me to tell you of Winter Veil. Sit now, and I will speak of it." He paused, waiting to make sure everyone was settled. Thrall focused his attention on the elder, though he kept an eye on his companion, who seemed intent on listening to the tauren's words. "My people have walked this world since the golden mists receded, and we have seen many Summers come and go, and many Winters as well. In the earliest days, it is said that the Earthmother did not rest, and she became weary. As she became weary, her eyes would begin to close, and our people feared it.
"We feared that without sunlight and without moonlight, we would all die to the great, dark beings beyond the world, but to us she said, 'Fear not, my children, for I love you and would never abandon you to the darkness. See here, my son. He wears a cape that blows snow all over the world, and where he steps, the Earthmother sleeps, but he is my guardian as well as my son. He guards what sleeps, and will allow no harm to come to you. He is Winter, and he will be a harsh taskmaster but a loyal friend. Never fear him, never curse his name, for while he may bring cold, he also brings protection. I will wake once again, and he will sleep, and the cycle will begin anew."
The elder looked out, over the children. "I have many stories to tell of Winter, if you would listen."
"Tell us!" one of the children cried, and others took up the chorus, until the tauren nodded.
"Then I will tell you of Winter's journey across Kalimdor, when it was once a single, great continent, and how Winter guided us north across Kalimdor." He began, and Thrall sat back. He was familiar with many of these tales, having been instructed by Windtotem during the weeks of preparation, so he did not quite listen, but instead watched Jaina, who half-murmured something not dissimilar to what Windtotem was saying.
"We hear similar stories from the dwarves," Jaina whispered softly, leaning over to minimize her volume. "It's fascinating, how similar some cultures can be."
"They may have met before," Thrall replied, equally quiet. "It was so long ago."
Jaina nodded, and together they listened. Just as Thrall's stomach began to turn with hunger, Windtotem finished his story, and guards appeared. Thrall tried not to sigh, and joined his escort.
"It is traditional at this time to feast on Winter Veil, and so, the whole of the Horde will feast!" Thrall said, borrowing the wind to send his voice everywhere. Cheers went up, and eager children and their parents stood. "It will be difficult to host every person in Orgrimmar, but it has been done. The Kor'Kron will make sure everyone finds a place."
The logistics for the feast had been insane. In the end, a large table had been set up within Grommash Hold, and several others had been placed in the largest open areas they could find, and many of Thrall's staff, including his guards, were required to make sure everything ran smoothly, but he believed the fuss to have been worth it, particularly since a chorus of voices gasped at the bounty placed before them, none the least of which was Jaina's. Everything that was on display had been made by Horde hands, or traded with their close allies. He wondered if Jaina would recognize the stuffed fish, or some of the marsh fare that graced their table.
The meal itself took hours to complete, in which there was little time to talk, only eat. Thrall let himself enjoy the meal, though snatches of conversation would drift by his ears, some of it about the company he had and had not kept, and there were pointed inquiries about some of Thrall's old partners.
He frowned thoughtfully, only to have Jaina put a hand on his arm.
"Don't let gossip ruin this," Jaina said, pausing between bites. "It always happens, no matter where you are."
"One of my advisors mentioned rumours," Thrall replied. "It's unsettling to be spoken of like this."
"It's what people do, I'm afraid," she said, shaking her head. "Tell me about the meal," she urged, and Thrall did so, letting himself be distracted from the idle conversation around him, and he felt both sated and satisfied. Thrall's staff began to clear away empty plates, and a number of people stood, complaining good-naturedly that they had eaten far too much.
"They'll work it off soon enough," Thrall rumbled, and Jaina gave him a curious look.
"Attention," Garona barked, still hidden safely behind her helm. Thrall knew she was excessively paranoid about her identity, though he let her hide herself as she would. "Warchief Thrall has fed you and sang for you, and now he has arranged for entertainment outside."
"Entertainment?" Jaina asked curiously, and took Thrall's offered arm once again. Thrall met Garona's eyes, and nodded slightly, and he was the first to venture out of Grommash Hold. Jaina gasped softly: drummers had begun a quiet but steady tune, and a thousand candles surrounded a flat perimeter, and the thing that had caused them no end of trouble to conceal.
Thrall led Jaina outside towards the specially designated area. "Surprise," Thrall said, finding it difficult to keep the pride and hope from his voice. "Lady Proudmoore... do you dance?"
~ * ~
Thrall ended the dance, and excused himself from his partner, gently returning her to the arms of her parents.
"Tell Hragatha that I had a very good time," Thrall told her father. "I'm sorry she fell asleep."
"She is past her bedtime," Grunt Thoknak said, offering Thrall an awkward salute. "We are honoured by your attention, Warchief."
Thrall made an effort not to wince. He hadn't recalled his feet being quite this sore during the march across the Barrens to Stonetalon, nor his back aching quite as badly during Hyjal. Still, it would be ungrateful and un-Warchief-like to let any of his discomfort show. "I am honoured to give it, though I think it's time to rest."
Looking around, he noticed that the dance floor had mostly cleared off, with the few that remained moving slowly. Many of the musicians had also taken their leave, and the rhythm was slow, almost soporific, and the few dances that remained moved slowly and against each other. Thrall let his gaze linger on them, just for a moment.
That's what I want, Thrall thought. That easy comfort, companionship, friendship... He shook his head slightly. I'll find it. He moved carefully, looking for Jaina. The human sorceress had begged off some time ago, saying she was tired, and then the requests had poured in for Thrall to dance with others, and he'd accepted who he could. Now, however, he wanted to find the person for whom this had been arranged.
A word or two to Garona -- who looked happy, even for her -- pointed him in the right direction, and he followed it. Jaina was staring up at the overcast sky and from what it sounded like, singing softly to herself.
"Jaina?" Thrall asked quietly, and she half-turned. Tears streaked down her face, and Thrall was taking aback. "What's wrong?"
"I... it's..." Jaina began, and wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Thrall."
"Don't be sorry, tell me what's the matter," Thrall urged, reaching to take her hands. Jaina's hands slid into his easily. "Was this wrong?"
"No, it was wonderful," Jaina said quietly, bowing her head. "It was more than I could have imagined."
"Then what's upsetting you?" Thrall paused, and then, "It's Arthas, isn't it?"
"Yes..." Jaina replied, wiping at her eyes. "He asked me to marry him on Winter Veil." She smiled, briefly, and shook his head. "He actually serenaded me."
"How was it?" Thrall asked softly.
"Thoroughly embarrassing," Jaina admitted. "His voice wasn't bad, though. I remember being very happy, we'd been together for about three years at that time. I wanted... I thought we'd be together for a long time. That I would have time to finish my studies, and do all of the things I wanted, and we'd be together." She shook her head. "Things changed. Arthas changed, and I suppose I changed too."
"I didn't mean to upset you with this," Thrall said. "I'm sorry, Jaina."
"No, don't be," she replied. "I haven't been dancing in years, and this was fun. Everything was decorated beautifully, and I don't think I've eaten a feast that impressive in such a long time. The memories are bittersweet, Thrall, and there's no helping that. I promised myself -- and you -- I wouldn't let the relationship I once shared with Arthas stop me from doing what needs doing, but it still hurts." She touched briefly over her heart. "This is still the happiest Winter Veil that I could have dreamed of."
"I'm glad," Thrall said. "You said Winter would be hard on you, I hoped to ease that if I could."
"You did, but..." Jaina gave him a pained smile. "I suppose I have to ask why."
"Why?" Thrall asked, frowning, and at Jaina's nod, he continued, still genuinely surprised she had to ask. "We're friends, Jaina. We've been through hard times together. You've listened to my complaints willingly, and knowing that you might be unhappy, I wanted to give you a gift."
"All of this was extravagant and incredible... for just one person," Jaina persisted. "Why me?"
"In truth, it wasn't all for you, but I did want you to see it," Thrall said. "All of my people deserve this. Most of them know nothing of this holiday... few of them were on good enough terms with humans to even consider learning about it." Thrall's gentle smile twisted. "I don't know if they even distinguished Winter from any other time of the year unless it directly affected their meal schedules."
Jaina's hand moved to her mouth. "Thrall, I'm so sorry, I..."
"I wanted them to learn something new. I wanted to bring a new tradition to our people, one without bloodshed or pain, just joy, and that's why I wanted to share it with you as well," Thrall continued. "I will say that the dancing was your gift. I wanted you to get that chance, since I wasn't sure if you'd get to do it again, but it made other people happy too." He gave her an intent look. "You asked for a reason. What is it? We promised to be honest..."
"We did," Jaina admitted. She wiped her face quickly. "Kael'thas."
"The elven prince?" Thrall asked. "What about him?"
"He was in love with me," Jaina said simply. "I didn't love him back. He was my friend. He claimed that was enough, but even when Arthas was courting me, he still tried to give me gifts... some of them very expensive or elaborate ones... to try and win me over. To try and be more than just friends. It was uncomfortable. I loved Arthas, but I wanted to be friends with Kael. I just couldn't quite make him understand..." She sighed. "Kael'thas said he accepted my decision, but there was still longing. I hurt him, but he hurt me back. It was unfair."
"Jaina, I would never do that to you," Thrall said, meeting her eyes. "I am your friend, and I want you to consider me to be your friend too. I never want to make you feel uncomfortable. All I wanted was to see you smile. I'm afraid that you haven't done that nearly as much as you should, I--" Jaina began to cry. Not loudly, but softly. Hesitantly, Thrall put a hand on one shoulder, than the other. "May I?"
Jaina nodded slightly, and he gently pulled her in for a hug, holding her as she wept. Carefully, he stroked her hair, and wondered if Taretha had ever cried while Thrall had been gone, though without anyone to hold her through the tears and pain.
"Come with me," Thrall murmured, and again, Jaina nodded. Still holding her, he led her carefully around each patrol and member of the cleaning team that was in charge of making sure that no candle lit anything on fire inadvertently and those that were in charge of delivering what remained of the great feast to those who had been unable to go, and back to Grommash Hold. Careful not to let anyone see him, he brought Jaina to his chambers, and sat her down. "You need to rest."
"Thrall, I..." Jaina began, blinking owlishly at him. "I should have... Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for caring so unconditionally."
"You make the assumption there's no condition to my gift," Thrall said, the hint of a rich chuckle in his voice, trying to push away what remained of Jaina's pain and grief. "My condition is that you sleep well and deeply so you can see the remainder of the Winter Veil festivities."
"I think I can accept that," Jaina said, smiling waterily. "Sleep well, Thrall."
"Sleep well, Jaina," he replied, and left the room. He took in a deep breath and released it. His thoughts drifted, over what Jaina had told him, and slyly, over the warm feeling he'd had when she had smiled and at the bright look in her eyes when she saw what his people had accomplished in the name of this holiday.
"There are cots in one of the side chambers," Garona commented softly. Thrall looked over at her. Here, she was dressed more comfortably, and she stretched. "You're going to need somewhere to sleep unless you intend to give out gifts while sleep deprived."
Thrall resisted the urge to shudder. "No, I'll need all the help I can get. Did you know she would..?"
"No," Garona admitted. "I didn't know about the incident with Kael'thas Sunstrider, but of course, there had been rumours about something between the three of them. I didn't exactly have the desire to sneak into Dalaran."
"I don't imagine you would," Thrall replied, and shook his head. "She'll sleep, at least."
"And so should you," Garona commented, and flung something at Thrall, who caught it by reflex. He turned the object -- a pillow -- over in his hands. In one corner was stitched, inexpertly, the symbol of the Horde. He gave her a look, and she shrugged. "Sleep well, Warchief."
"Thank you, Garona," Thrall said. Taking the pillow, he went to the side room and sure enough, found a cot. He set the pillow down and undressed, thinking of the next day. I'd like to give Jaina something else... I'll find something. Something that won't be bittersweet. She deserves that much.
With that in mind, he lay in bed, head against the pillow Garona had given him. He closed his eyes, meaning to give the gift more thought, but he found himself falling asleep effortlessly.
~ * ~
There was the feeling of being held in strong arms. He looked around, finding his eyesight frustratingly vague and dim. He could, just barely, recognize that a person was across the room, but before he could properly parse this information, his viewpoint shifted to a valley of green, and then up. There was a face, he recognized it well--
Mother, Thrall thought with wonder. It's impossible, I can't remember what my mother looks like, I was an infant, when--
His infant self was busy, but he looked around, straining to find some detail, something, anything... If I'm suddenly remembering my mother, if there's only some way to get my father to move in close...
Instead, all he could see was an expanse of blue with a blob of white. My blanket? Is this my?
There was a rumbling sound, and he heard his mother speak, deep and resonant, but nothing she said made sense. He felt himself be jostled, and he opened his mouth to cry out--
Thrall awoke with a start. He reached to touch his head, and found his arms bound -- no, covered -- and looked down. Covering him was a huge blanket, blue as a summer sky with the head of a white wolf in the middle. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming again, but this blanket was too real. He extracted and arm and touched over it. This wasn't the blanket he'd been found with, even though it resembled it superficially. The weave was wrong, it didn't feel orcish at all, it felt... it felt human.
"Do you like it?" Jaina asked softly, and Thrall looked up. She smiled over at him, looking more at peace than she had the night before. "I didn't mean to prevent you from sleeping in your own bed... I was afraid you'd be cold, so I gave you your gift while you were sleeping."
"How did you..?" Thrall asked, sitting up a little. His back protested, and he ignored it.
"I had it specially made," Jaina admitted. "I wasn't sure if you remembered Winter Veil at all, but I wanted to get you something." She spread her hands. "Friends give friends gifts. I remember you told me about the blanket that you were found with, so I... had a larger one made. I know it's not perfect, but--"
"It's a wonderful gift, Jaina," Thrall said. "Thank you, for both the gift and your concern."
"I was just going back to bed," she said. "Were you having a bad dream?" She moved a lock of hair behind her ear, wrapping one of the blankets from Thrall's bed around herself a little more tightly. "Did you want to talk about it?"
"Not exactly a bad dream," Thrall conceded. "Just an odd one, of a memory I shouldn't have."
"You are a shaman, perhaps your communion with the spirits recently has helped you remember it, or gave you the memory if it wasn't one of your own," Jaina guessed. "Something the spirits wanted you to see."
If they wanted me to see my parents, why now? Thrall wondered, and touched over the blanket again. That's it... this. "I think you're right." He yawned. "I'd be happy to tell you about it once I get more sleep. I should remember it."
"Then I'll let you sleep. Goodnight again, Thrall."
"Goodnight, Jaina," Thrall replied, and settled back into sleep, and again, felt as if he was being held by something larger and warmer than himself.
Chapter 3
Title: Unity
Part: 2 of ? (I have no idea. They won't stop talking)
Word Count: 5262 (of this part)
Warnings: Implied sex, actual sex, orc/human, mentioned death and suicide, angst. For this part, utterly shameless fluff.
Pairings: Mentioned Thrall/Others, primarily Thrall/Jaina. Mentioned past Arthas/Jaina and past one-sided Kael/Jaina.
Summary: Thrall introduces Winter Veil formally to Orgrimmar, and hatches a plan to get Jaina a very special gift.
Previous Chapters: 1
"Be careful with that!" Garona snapped, watching as two grunts carefully wrestled a large tree into Grommash Hold. She shook her head as she walked past them, moving over to where Thrall was listening gravely to a tauren elder telling him a story about Greatfather Winter. "They're going to get pine needles everywhere."
"Let those who clean worry about that," Thrall insisted. "What do you have for me?"
"This is ridiculous, for the record," Garona said stiffly, but presented him with a single, folded piece of paper. He opened it, and smiled. "Is that all, Warchief? Do you have some reindeer you want me to rescue?"
"That will be all for now," Thrall said, finding it impossible to have his mood dampened. Winter Veil was in the air, after all. The earliest parts of Winter had been hard on everyone, and Thrall wanted to bring his people closer together. A stray remark from Jaina had reminded Thrall of a yearly event that had punctuated the bitter cold that had represented Winter in Durnholde:
For years, Taretha had snuck through knee-deep snow to bring Thrall a gift - books, often enough, or a new stylus, or a bundle of paper so they could exchange letters for the whole year. She explained that this was Winter Veil, when snow blanketed the world, allowing it to rest, and in the darkest part of the year, people exchanged gifts to keep each other warm. Certainly, each gift had kept Thrall warm when the year would have otherwise been exceptionally dreary, and his first winter with the Frostwolves had been a shock when he realized his people didn't celebrate the longest night formally, and instead spent time meditating on the elements.
It had been a joy to learn that the tauren also celebrated Winter Veil, and were more than willing to teach anyone who would listen about the deeper, inner meaning of the holiday. Durotar, as predicted, was cool but not cold as Lordaeron had been, though the trolls assured him this time of the year was quite miserable to those who'd become accustomed to warmer climates, and he had it on good authority that Theramore's weather was miserable -- sleet over the Marsh and driving winds -- so his invitation would be welcome, to say the least.
Sure enough, the answer to the carefully penned letter -- there had been a second purpose behind not wanting to simply use the runestone -- was positive. Jaina would come here for Winter Veil. Carefully folded inside the letter was a note, scrawled in Garona's handwriting, telling Thrall exactly what he could give Jaina as a gift.
Thrall thanked the elder for finishing his story, though the tauren had simply shaken his head, wondering aloud if Thrall had heard most of it, and the Warchief stood, going out to examine the preparations within the city.
Winter Veil is about memory, Thrall thought. The earth sleeps to remember its strength during the summer months. The people remember what has passed over the rest of the year. He watched as people carefully fastened candles -- green for the growing, red for the warmth of fire and the sun, white for the snow that blankets the coldest parts of the world -- into their holders, hanging wreathes made of whatever they could find that was still green on doors and more. Hesitant greetings were exchanged as Thrall listened, and he smiled more broadly. Winter Veil is about memory, and about friendship, he corrected himself.
"You realize that what you're planning is going to be a nightmare for security," Garona said, her presence unannounced save for her pessimistic comment. Thrall didn't turn.
"The Greatfather Winter figure is important to the celebration," Thrall replied. "He's a centrepiece, even. A necessity."
"You realize you're going to have to spend hours sitting in one place while runny-nosed children sit on your knee and tell you what they want as a gift, don't you?" Garona persisted. "A single mistake..."
"It's a holiday, Garona," Thrall said quietly, and held out his hand. She placed the jacket in his hands -- thick and red, woven in haste by the tauren -- and sighed. "Let the children be children, for once."
"Neither of us had any kind of childhood to speak of," Garona said, and hesitated. "Have you given thought to what you want?"
"I want my people to think of winter as a time of joy and rest, not of death," Thrall replied quietly, turning the jacket over in his hands. "If a word from me will change things, then I'll put those words to good use. An end to war isn't enough, we need to be able to live in a world in peace, at peace."
Garona was silent long enough that Thrall had to see if she was still there. She was, fighting for control of her expression, which usually came as naturally to her as breathing. "I understand," she said, finally.
Thrall straightened. "So then, you'll--"
"Not in your life," Garona snorted.
"It's traditional," Thrall pointed out, pleased that she was as sardonic as usual.
"Fine, if it's traditional, you can wear an undersized vest and tiny shorts, and I will sit on my behind all day, fully clothed and asking what little Grag wants for Winter Veil."
~ * ~
He saw her the moment she arrived: Jaina had foregone her usual garb of blue, purple and white for long, green robes trimmed with white fur, and a thick, white-fur cape. She had a large, wrapped package tucked under one arm, which drew his interest for a moment before continuing to watch her progress. Thrall's invitation had suggested that she teleport to the entrance of Orgrimmar, rather than directly into Grommash Hold, and he sincerely hoped that she would not be disappointed.
"Greatfather Winter, you listening?" asked the child on his lap, and with a start, Thrall looked down. The children had come very reluctantly at first, both intimidated by the prospect of speaking directly to the Warchief and afraid to make requests, but it had only taken one child's courage to bring the rest, and they stood now in a loose circle, watching and waiting for their turn.
"Of course, Targ," Thrall said quietly. Despite her protests to the contrary, Garona was here, fully armed and armored, speaking quietly to Thrall, filling in details so he would know who each child was, though she refused to wear so much as a festive hat. This was Targ, son of Glaag and Grinshka, and he had fallen asleep during the Battle for Hyjal, having been only a child then, but he was much older now. "I'll do what I can to see that you receive a leather ball."
"Thanks," Targ replied, giving him a toothy grin. He hopped off of Thrall's lap after being offered a sweet by one of Thrall's other assistants, a troll that had not been nearly as upset about wearing such a brief outfit.
"Next!" Garona barked out sharply. Thrall sat back, taking the opportunity while he was unoccupied to watch Jaina. There was an expression of wonder on her face, and joy. He watched as she touched over the rough wreathes that people had made, and stopped to hold a hand near the candles. Garona cleared her throat sharply, and then, Thrall brought his focus back to the task at hand.
A few hours later, Thrall stood wearily. Despite how Garona had claimed Thrall had the easy job, it had not been easy to sit in an increasingly more uncomfortable chair, and while he was pleased that the children had grown more bold, they bounced and tugged. He couldn't imagine doing this for more than one day a year. He stretched, groaning.
"It looked like you were having fun," he heard, and Thrall looked over. Jaina was standing a little ways away while children spoke excitedly about what the Warchief had promised them for Winter Veil. "I didn't want to interrupt."
"You're not interrupting," Thrall said, and offered her his hand. She took it. "Welcome, Jaina. Happy Winter Veil."
"Happy Winter Veil," Jaina said. "Thank you for inviting me." She bowed her head briefly, and looked up. "I must admit, I wasn't really in a festive mood until I got your letter."
"We'll change that," Thrall promised. "Allow me find clothing that's a little less distinctive, and I'll show you what Orgrimmar has to offer."
"I think I would like that very much," Jaina replied, and squeezed his arm slightly.
~ * ~
"Winter Veil seems odd without snow," Jaina admitted, accepting the mug of spiced cider from Thrall. She sipped at it carefully. "On the other hand, I didn't expect that you'd actually be able to find a pine tree here."
"It wasn't easy," Thrall admitted. "I had to send warriors to Stonetalon to find something appropriate. The communication crystals you made were a crucial part of the process. Really, this is as much your doing as anyone else's."
Jaina blushed faintly. "I was happy to help. Once you mentioned it, I started setting up networks of portals and communication crystals throughout Dustwallow. Unfortunately, the Night Elves seem fairly reluctant to embrace them, but I've managed to convince Tyrande to take a crystal in case of an emergency."
"That's good, though as you said, they'll be harder to maintain without mages," Thrall said, and hesitantly added, "I can understand why the Night Elves might be reluctant to accept even the most minor of magical artifacts."
Far from offended, Jaina nodded, "So can I. Unfortunately, little progress has been made training messenger hawks or owls; we don't have the skill with animals that they do, and carrier pigeons were not something I thought to bring to Kalimdor. I'm glad Tyrande was willing to trust me."
"She knows you're trustworthy," Thrall said, and smiled. "As do I."
"You both place a great deal of faith in me," Jaina replied softly. "I want to be worthy of it."
"I believe we spend our whole lives feeling as if we haven't quite earned the trust people place in us," Thrall said. "But that's not what today is about. Today is about celebration."
"You've embraced Winter Veil wholeheartedly," Jaina said, her expression lightening as she sipped her cider again. "I'm so impressed, Orgrimmar is beautiful."
"As you said, it's odd without snow, but we're managing," Thrall said. "A feast has been planned. I've fielded a number of complaints about how many we're feeding, but I think the organizers have done a good job of it."
"There's a banquet?" Jaina asked, looking up at him, hope mixed with excitement. Thrall chuckled.
"There is, but that will be later," Thrall promised. "First we have a number of activities to go through."
"Tell me about them," Jaina said, setting her mug aside a moment.
Thrall nodded, and watched her expression closely. "The shamans will be performing a ritual of respect for the sleeping earth. They've asked me to participate, so I'll be sitting with them. It includes singing. Then, Elder Windtotem will be telling the story of Greatfather Winter for the children. I'd hoped you'd want to attend that, and then there will be the banquet, and..." Thrall took a breath. "A surprise."
"A surprise?" Jaina asked, watching him closely. "What kind of surprise?"
"It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you," Thrall said, and stood. "I promise you that you'll enjoy it."
"Well, I trust you," Jaina conceded. "But I'll have you know I don't much like surprises."
"I'll try not to disappoint you," Thrall said, and offered her his arm. She stood and took it.
"I trust you," Jaina murmured.
~ * ~
Thrall could feel the drumming within his own heartbeat, the sound moving through his veins. One by one, the shamans lifted their heads and began to sing, and Thrall added his not-indistinct timbre to the mix. Heads began to lift as he sang, thanking the earth for accepting them here and granting them the gift of food, hearth, peace and joy. He offered promises: that the Horde would take care of this land, and never take too much, nor give too little.
Slowly, the drums fell off, only to be replaced with another kind of song: one singer began, and the others began to join in. It was not a song of Winter, but a song of heroes: they sang of Grom. Closing his eyes against the heavy feeling of sorrow, Thrall sang with them, adding his own voice as he named Grom's deeds, including the slaying of Mannoroth.
Softly, threaded through the deeper voices of the orcs, Thrall heard a soft, breathy alto join in with the chorus. He opened his eyes to see Jaina singing softly, tears shining in her eyes. He nodded to her, and a new song began. Many heroes had fallen to bring them to this winter, and Thrall sang for each of them.
It was hours later, and Thrall's voice was hoarse by the time it ended. Windtotem began to gather the children and encouraged him to sit with him, while Thrall carefully moved out of the circle, leaving more room. He sat beside Jaina, who was wiping discreetly at her eyes.
"I miss him," Thrall said simply. "We wouldn't be where we are now without him... in more ways than one, unfortunately."
"Remember him as a hero," Jaina said softly. "It was how he died, it's what he deserved. Thrall, that was beautiful. I've never heard anything like that."
"My people enjoy singing," Thrall said with pride. "A song is something you can carry with you."
"It... it certainly is," Jaina said shakily, and Thrall gave her a sideways looks.
"What's the matter?" he asked quietly, but before Jaina could open her mouth to respond, Windtotem cleared his throat.
"Children of the Horde, our honoured Warchief Thrall, son of Durotan, has asked me to tell you of Winter Veil. Sit now, and I will speak of it." He paused, waiting to make sure everyone was settled. Thrall focused his attention on the elder, though he kept an eye on his companion, who seemed intent on listening to the tauren's words. "My people have walked this world since the golden mists receded, and we have seen many Summers come and go, and many Winters as well. In the earliest days, it is said that the Earthmother did not rest, and she became weary. As she became weary, her eyes would begin to close, and our people feared it.
"We feared that without sunlight and without moonlight, we would all die to the great, dark beings beyond the world, but to us she said, 'Fear not, my children, for I love you and would never abandon you to the darkness. See here, my son. He wears a cape that blows snow all over the world, and where he steps, the Earthmother sleeps, but he is my guardian as well as my son. He guards what sleeps, and will allow no harm to come to you. He is Winter, and he will be a harsh taskmaster but a loyal friend. Never fear him, never curse his name, for while he may bring cold, he also brings protection. I will wake once again, and he will sleep, and the cycle will begin anew."
The elder looked out, over the children. "I have many stories to tell of Winter, if you would listen."
"Tell us!" one of the children cried, and others took up the chorus, until the tauren nodded.
"Then I will tell you of Winter's journey across Kalimdor, when it was once a single, great continent, and how Winter guided us north across Kalimdor." He began, and Thrall sat back. He was familiar with many of these tales, having been instructed by Windtotem during the weeks of preparation, so he did not quite listen, but instead watched Jaina, who half-murmured something not dissimilar to what Windtotem was saying.
"We hear similar stories from the dwarves," Jaina whispered softly, leaning over to minimize her volume. "It's fascinating, how similar some cultures can be."
"They may have met before," Thrall replied, equally quiet. "It was so long ago."
Jaina nodded, and together they listened. Just as Thrall's stomach began to turn with hunger, Windtotem finished his story, and guards appeared. Thrall tried not to sigh, and joined his escort.
"It is traditional at this time to feast on Winter Veil, and so, the whole of the Horde will feast!" Thrall said, borrowing the wind to send his voice everywhere. Cheers went up, and eager children and their parents stood. "It will be difficult to host every person in Orgrimmar, but it has been done. The Kor'Kron will make sure everyone finds a place."
The logistics for the feast had been insane. In the end, a large table had been set up within Grommash Hold, and several others had been placed in the largest open areas they could find, and many of Thrall's staff, including his guards, were required to make sure everything ran smoothly, but he believed the fuss to have been worth it, particularly since a chorus of voices gasped at the bounty placed before them, none the least of which was Jaina's. Everything that was on display had been made by Horde hands, or traded with their close allies. He wondered if Jaina would recognize the stuffed fish, or some of the marsh fare that graced their table.
The meal itself took hours to complete, in which there was little time to talk, only eat. Thrall let himself enjoy the meal, though snatches of conversation would drift by his ears, some of it about the company he had and had not kept, and there were pointed inquiries about some of Thrall's old partners.
He frowned thoughtfully, only to have Jaina put a hand on his arm.
"Don't let gossip ruin this," Jaina said, pausing between bites. "It always happens, no matter where you are."
"One of my advisors mentioned rumours," Thrall replied. "It's unsettling to be spoken of like this."
"It's what people do, I'm afraid," she said, shaking her head. "Tell me about the meal," she urged, and Thrall did so, letting himself be distracted from the idle conversation around him, and he felt both sated and satisfied. Thrall's staff began to clear away empty plates, and a number of people stood, complaining good-naturedly that they had eaten far too much.
"They'll work it off soon enough," Thrall rumbled, and Jaina gave him a curious look.
"Attention," Garona barked, still hidden safely behind her helm. Thrall knew she was excessively paranoid about her identity, though he let her hide herself as she would. "Warchief Thrall has fed you and sang for you, and now he has arranged for entertainment outside."
"Entertainment?" Jaina asked curiously, and took Thrall's offered arm once again. Thrall met Garona's eyes, and nodded slightly, and he was the first to venture out of Grommash Hold. Jaina gasped softly: drummers had begun a quiet but steady tune, and a thousand candles surrounded a flat perimeter, and the thing that had caused them no end of trouble to conceal.
Thrall led Jaina outside towards the specially designated area. "Surprise," Thrall said, finding it difficult to keep the pride and hope from his voice. "Lady Proudmoore... do you dance?"
~ * ~
Thrall ended the dance, and excused himself from his partner, gently returning her to the arms of her parents.
"Tell Hragatha that I had a very good time," Thrall told her father. "I'm sorry she fell asleep."
"She is past her bedtime," Grunt Thoknak said, offering Thrall an awkward salute. "We are honoured by your attention, Warchief."
Thrall made an effort not to wince. He hadn't recalled his feet being quite this sore during the march across the Barrens to Stonetalon, nor his back aching quite as badly during Hyjal. Still, it would be ungrateful and un-Warchief-like to let any of his discomfort show. "I am honoured to give it, though I think it's time to rest."
Looking around, he noticed that the dance floor had mostly cleared off, with the few that remained moving slowly. Many of the musicians had also taken their leave, and the rhythm was slow, almost soporific, and the few dances that remained moved slowly and against each other. Thrall let his gaze linger on them, just for a moment.
That's what I want, Thrall thought. That easy comfort, companionship, friendship... He shook his head slightly. I'll find it. He moved carefully, looking for Jaina. The human sorceress had begged off some time ago, saying she was tired, and then the requests had poured in for Thrall to dance with others, and he'd accepted who he could. Now, however, he wanted to find the person for whom this had been arranged.
A word or two to Garona -- who looked happy, even for her -- pointed him in the right direction, and he followed it. Jaina was staring up at the overcast sky and from what it sounded like, singing softly to herself.
"Jaina?" Thrall asked quietly, and she half-turned. Tears streaked down her face, and Thrall was taking aback. "What's wrong?"
"I... it's..." Jaina began, and wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Thrall."
"Don't be sorry, tell me what's the matter," Thrall urged, reaching to take her hands. Jaina's hands slid into his easily. "Was this wrong?"
"No, it was wonderful," Jaina said quietly, bowing her head. "It was more than I could have imagined."
"Then what's upsetting you?" Thrall paused, and then, "It's Arthas, isn't it?"
"Yes..." Jaina replied, wiping at her eyes. "He asked me to marry him on Winter Veil." She smiled, briefly, and shook his head. "He actually serenaded me."
"How was it?" Thrall asked softly.
"Thoroughly embarrassing," Jaina admitted. "His voice wasn't bad, though. I remember being very happy, we'd been together for about three years at that time. I wanted... I thought we'd be together for a long time. That I would have time to finish my studies, and do all of the things I wanted, and we'd be together." She shook her head. "Things changed. Arthas changed, and I suppose I changed too."
"I didn't mean to upset you with this," Thrall said. "I'm sorry, Jaina."
"No, don't be," she replied. "I haven't been dancing in years, and this was fun. Everything was decorated beautifully, and I don't think I've eaten a feast that impressive in such a long time. The memories are bittersweet, Thrall, and there's no helping that. I promised myself -- and you -- I wouldn't let the relationship I once shared with Arthas stop me from doing what needs doing, but it still hurts." She touched briefly over her heart. "This is still the happiest Winter Veil that I could have dreamed of."
"I'm glad," Thrall said. "You said Winter would be hard on you, I hoped to ease that if I could."
"You did, but..." Jaina gave him a pained smile. "I suppose I have to ask why."
"Why?" Thrall asked, frowning, and at Jaina's nod, he continued, still genuinely surprised she had to ask. "We're friends, Jaina. We've been through hard times together. You've listened to my complaints willingly, and knowing that you might be unhappy, I wanted to give you a gift."
"All of this was extravagant and incredible... for just one person," Jaina persisted. "Why me?"
"In truth, it wasn't all for you, but I did want you to see it," Thrall said. "All of my people deserve this. Most of them know nothing of this holiday... few of them were on good enough terms with humans to even consider learning about it." Thrall's gentle smile twisted. "I don't know if they even distinguished Winter from any other time of the year unless it directly affected their meal schedules."
Jaina's hand moved to her mouth. "Thrall, I'm so sorry, I..."
"I wanted them to learn something new. I wanted to bring a new tradition to our people, one without bloodshed or pain, just joy, and that's why I wanted to share it with you as well," Thrall continued. "I will say that the dancing was your gift. I wanted you to get that chance, since I wasn't sure if you'd get to do it again, but it made other people happy too." He gave her an intent look. "You asked for a reason. What is it? We promised to be honest..."
"We did," Jaina admitted. She wiped her face quickly. "Kael'thas."
"The elven prince?" Thrall asked. "What about him?"
"He was in love with me," Jaina said simply. "I didn't love him back. He was my friend. He claimed that was enough, but even when Arthas was courting me, he still tried to give me gifts... some of them very expensive or elaborate ones... to try and win me over. To try and be more than just friends. It was uncomfortable. I loved Arthas, but I wanted to be friends with Kael. I just couldn't quite make him understand..." She sighed. "Kael'thas said he accepted my decision, but there was still longing. I hurt him, but he hurt me back. It was unfair."
"Jaina, I would never do that to you," Thrall said, meeting her eyes. "I am your friend, and I want you to consider me to be your friend too. I never want to make you feel uncomfortable. All I wanted was to see you smile. I'm afraid that you haven't done that nearly as much as you should, I--" Jaina began to cry. Not loudly, but softly. Hesitantly, Thrall put a hand on one shoulder, than the other. "May I?"
Jaina nodded slightly, and he gently pulled her in for a hug, holding her as she wept. Carefully, he stroked her hair, and wondered if Taretha had ever cried while Thrall had been gone, though without anyone to hold her through the tears and pain.
"Come with me," Thrall murmured, and again, Jaina nodded. Still holding her, he led her carefully around each patrol and member of the cleaning team that was in charge of making sure that no candle lit anything on fire inadvertently and those that were in charge of delivering what remained of the great feast to those who had been unable to go, and back to Grommash Hold. Careful not to let anyone see him, he brought Jaina to his chambers, and sat her down. "You need to rest."
"Thrall, I..." Jaina began, blinking owlishly at him. "I should have... Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for caring so unconditionally."
"You make the assumption there's no condition to my gift," Thrall said, the hint of a rich chuckle in his voice, trying to push away what remained of Jaina's pain and grief. "My condition is that you sleep well and deeply so you can see the remainder of the Winter Veil festivities."
"I think I can accept that," Jaina said, smiling waterily. "Sleep well, Thrall."
"Sleep well, Jaina," he replied, and left the room. He took in a deep breath and released it. His thoughts drifted, over what Jaina had told him, and slyly, over the warm feeling he'd had when she had smiled and at the bright look in her eyes when she saw what his people had accomplished in the name of this holiday.
"There are cots in one of the side chambers," Garona commented softly. Thrall looked over at her. Here, she was dressed more comfortably, and she stretched. "You're going to need somewhere to sleep unless you intend to give out gifts while sleep deprived."
Thrall resisted the urge to shudder. "No, I'll need all the help I can get. Did you know she would..?"
"No," Garona admitted. "I didn't know about the incident with Kael'thas Sunstrider, but of course, there had been rumours about something between the three of them. I didn't exactly have the desire to sneak into Dalaran."
"I don't imagine you would," Thrall replied, and shook his head. "She'll sleep, at least."
"And so should you," Garona commented, and flung something at Thrall, who caught it by reflex. He turned the object -- a pillow -- over in his hands. In one corner was stitched, inexpertly, the symbol of the Horde. He gave her a look, and she shrugged. "Sleep well, Warchief."
"Thank you, Garona," Thrall said. Taking the pillow, he went to the side room and sure enough, found a cot. He set the pillow down and undressed, thinking of the next day. I'd like to give Jaina something else... I'll find something. Something that won't be bittersweet. She deserves that much.
With that in mind, he lay in bed, head against the pillow Garona had given him. He closed his eyes, meaning to give the gift more thought, but he found himself falling asleep effortlessly.
~ * ~
There was the feeling of being held in strong arms. He looked around, finding his eyesight frustratingly vague and dim. He could, just barely, recognize that a person was across the room, but before he could properly parse this information, his viewpoint shifted to a valley of green, and then up. There was a face, he recognized it well--
Mother, Thrall thought with wonder. It's impossible, I can't remember what my mother looks like, I was an infant, when--
His infant self was busy, but he looked around, straining to find some detail, something, anything... If I'm suddenly remembering my mother, if there's only some way to get my father to move in close...
Instead, all he could see was an expanse of blue with a blob of white. My blanket? Is this my?
There was a rumbling sound, and he heard his mother speak, deep and resonant, but nothing she said made sense. He felt himself be jostled, and he opened his mouth to cry out--
Thrall awoke with a start. He reached to touch his head, and found his arms bound -- no, covered -- and looked down. Covering him was a huge blanket, blue as a summer sky with the head of a white wolf in the middle. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming again, but this blanket was too real. He extracted and arm and touched over it. This wasn't the blanket he'd been found with, even though it resembled it superficially. The weave was wrong, it didn't feel orcish at all, it felt... it felt human.
"Do you like it?" Jaina asked softly, and Thrall looked up. She smiled over at him, looking more at peace than she had the night before. "I didn't mean to prevent you from sleeping in your own bed... I was afraid you'd be cold, so I gave you your gift while you were sleeping."
"How did you..?" Thrall asked, sitting up a little. His back protested, and he ignored it.
"I had it specially made," Jaina admitted. "I wasn't sure if you remembered Winter Veil at all, but I wanted to get you something." She spread her hands. "Friends give friends gifts. I remember you told me about the blanket that you were found with, so I... had a larger one made. I know it's not perfect, but--"
"It's a wonderful gift, Jaina," Thrall said. "Thank you, for both the gift and your concern."
"I was just going back to bed," she said. "Were you having a bad dream?" She moved a lock of hair behind her ear, wrapping one of the blankets from Thrall's bed around herself a little more tightly. "Did you want to talk about it?"
"Not exactly a bad dream," Thrall conceded. "Just an odd one, of a memory I shouldn't have."
"You are a shaman, perhaps your communion with the spirits recently has helped you remember it, or gave you the memory if it wasn't one of your own," Jaina guessed. "Something the spirits wanted you to see."
If they wanted me to see my parents, why now? Thrall wondered, and touched over the blanket again. That's it... this. "I think you're right." He yawned. "I'd be happy to tell you about it once I get more sleep. I should remember it."
"Then I'll let you sleep. Goodnight again, Thrall."
"Goodnight, Jaina," Thrall replied, and settled back into sleep, and again, felt as if he was being held by something larger and warmer than himself.
Chapter 3