Unity - Chapter 3
The conclusion of Winter Veil, and some excessive adorableness. I have less to say this time.
Title: Unity
Part: 3 of ? (I have no idea. They won't stop talking)
Word Count: 4230 (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 hands out gifts to the children of Orgrimmar, and then bad things happen.
Previous Chapters: 1 2
Morning came all too quickly, and soon Thrall was stretching, yawning, and dressing himself in his Greatfather Winter outfit. Garona had not commented on the carefully folded blanket on the cot, and simply asked when he'd be ready to see the children.
"Now is as good a time as any," Thrall said, and stretched again. "Were we able to obtain everything?"
"Fortunately, what they wanted was relatively simple," Garona said, shaking her head. "You know this will get increasingly more difficult to top."
"One year at a time," Thrall said gently. "Did you do as I asked?"
"Lady Proudmoore's security detail has been arranged," Garona said, and smirked at him. "And here I thought you were too naive to think people might be upset that you brought a human here for Winter Veil."
"I'm not naive," Thrall growled warningly. "The last thing we need, on this of all days, is an assassination attempt."
"Of course not," Garona snorted. "We're ready when you are, Warchief. Try not to look like you've had a rough night."
"Cots aren't known for being comfortable," Thrall said. "But what are you--"
"Thrall?" Jaina called softly, and he turned. He smiled at her as she concealed a small yawn behind one hand. "Who are you talking to?"
"Just a..." He gestured, Garona was already gone. "...guard. I'm giving out gifts, would you like to join me?"
"Of course!" Jaina said, and Thrall was pleased to note much of her good humour had returned. She took his proffered arm, and went with him as he started to walk. "It's very ambitious to take care of all of this yourself. I'm used to a number of 'helpers'."
"I wanted the first Winter Veil in Orgrimmar to be memorable," Thrall said. "I won't be able to do this every year, but I wanted it to be done at least once."
"Good of you," Jaina murmured. "You never know, it might be worth actually arranging for some kind special first Winter Veil for children too young to remember this. If it's only a relatively small number of children a year, it wouldn't be as difficult, and any child would value their first gift from the Warchief."
"I like it," Thrall said, his mind racing to prepare for just that eventuality. "Particularly if I start having children of my own."
"It's only a matter of time," Jaina said graciously. "Did you meet anyone nice?"
"Ten year olds are a bit young for me," Thrall joked, and at Jaina's raised eyebrow, he continued. "A number of my partners were young children, and I couldn't say no to them when they asked me to dance. More than one fell asleep on me. I hope it's not a statement about the company they were keeping."
Jaina giggled softly. "I think it's because it was so late." Thrall walked with her past the guards, letting their conversation drift past him as they fell into step. "So, what's the plan?"
"They're going to let me get into place before the heralds start announcing to come to the tree," Thrall explained. "I suspect, however, this procession will garner some attention."
"You are dressed as Greatfather Winter," Jaina pointed out. Some of the people coming out of their homes stared, and while Thrall frowned, Jaina waved, and her attention caused some of the youngest of them to hide shyly behind her parents' legs. "They've come out to see you."
"Not just me," Thrall murmured. The procession continued towards the large tree that had been set up where Thrall had originally sat as Greatfather Winter and listened to requests. The pile of gifts was nothing short of monumental, and Thrall was pleased that he would be able to hand them out to children in need of something special after all the time they'd spend running from humans and hiding from the undead and demons.
Thrall moved to the chair that had been prepared for him -- Garona had, from what Thrall could see, added an extra cushion or two to it, and he reminded himself to thank her later -- and sat down. Already, a dozen children were waiting eagerly to get their gifts, and more were appearing as heralds roused the city. Thrall nodded to the guards, who arranged themselves around Jaina in a protective manner.
"I hope you're ready for this," Garona murmured, and Thrall nodded.
Once the children had been gathered, Thrall began, "Children of Orgrimmar, welcome. Greatfather Winter has heard your requests, and now, on the day of Winter Veil, he has left you gifts. I will call your name, and you'll come up to get your gift."
The children cheered, and Thrall's chest swelled with pride. He nodded once, to Garona, who leaned over to pick up a gift, and handed it to the Warchief. "Nakthak, son of Barnar!" Thrall called. Hurriedly, a child picked his way through the crowd, running to Thrall to get his gift. Thrall handed it to him, and smiled. "Happy Winter Veil."
"Happy Winter Veil, Warchief," the boy said shyly, and scampered off with his gift. Thrall continued, and noted that Garona would take an armful of gifts, to increase the speed that Thrall could distribute each gift. Absorbed as he was, he was startled when a mug was thrust into his view.
"Drink, you're getting hoarse," Jaina urged, and he met her eyes. She smiled at him warmly. "It won't take very long. They'd be demoralized if their Warchief lost his voice."
"Thank you," Thrall said, and took a long sip, then clearing his throat several times. "This is very good."
"I know a thing or two about taking care of people who do a lot of talking. At least you aren't lecturing."
"This way, Lady Proudmoore," one of Jaina's escort said, and urged her away from Thrall.
"I'll bring more," she promised, and backed away. Thrall smiled as she went, and went back to his task. Slowly, the pile shrank, and Jaina brought back another mug, though this time he noticed that she was juggling things to keep them from falling.
"What are those?" Thrall asked curiously.
"Some of the children offered me gifts," Jaina said. "I must admit, I can no more refuse them than you can, they're so sweet." She handed him the mug, and then showed off some bright, simple trinkets, including strings of beads, and a small wreath. "They said they remembered me as a hero from Hyjal."
"You did save my life," Thrall agreed, smiling at her. "You have the right to be recognized."
"It was the right thing to do," Jaina insisted. "I--"
Garona cleared her throat.
"I'm sorry, I'll be done soon," Thrall said, and continued. As he finished, he noted that some of the children also left gifts for him, similar in caliber to what Jaina received, and he thanked each child that gave him something, and met the eyes of their hopeful parents. I'll have to ask Garona if she recalls every person that gave me something so they can be thanked properly... gift giving is complex.
"Wreaths mean something special to humans," Thrall heard Jaina say as he was giving the last gift. "They're a promise, something special and precious. You give a wreath to someone you really care about. They're also a good reminder that Spring will come again, and it won't be cold and dark forever."
"I promise I'll be good and always eat my roots with my meat," a gap-toothed orc girl told Jaina breathlessly. "So I can grow up to be strong and serve the Warchief."
"I'm sure he can't wait," Jaina replied, patting her on the head, and the girl giggled. "Go on, now."
"Bye!" the girl said, and ran off to her parents. Jaina noticed Thrall's gaze, and met his eyes with a warm smile.
"I'll admit I didn't know that about wreaths," Thrall said, standing. He winced, despite the extra padding, his back was still sore. He made a mental note to speak to a healer about it. "Did she give you one?"
"She did," Jaina replied, and held up the small wreath. "I'll have to find a place to hang it in my office. I'm sure Tervosh will be thrilled to find that I've acquired a number of new trinkets."
"As have I, or so it would seem," Thrall said. "I don't think I can carry these the whole way."
"Will your guard mind if I teleport us directly to the Hold, then?" Jaina asked curiously. "That way nothing will be damaged."
"I don't believe so," Thrall said, and looked towards Garona. It was difficult to tell her exact expression behind her helm, but he suspected she was rolling her eyes. She made a shooing motion, and Thrall turned back. "It'll be fine."
"Good..." Jaina carefully freed a hand to place it on Thrall's wrist, and blue runes floated around them, taking them back to Grommash Hold. With no small amount of relief, Thrall immediately went to set down his wealth of gifts, only to be met by even more of them waiting for him in his personal chambers.
"Oh... my," Thrall managed, and heard Jaina laughing softly behind him.
"It seems that helper gnomes were busy while you were giving out gifts," she said, finding a clear space to set down her own gifts. "You're well-loved, Thrall. A true testament to your actions."
"I'd prefer to leave a legacy, but this is welcome too."
Thrall stood, staring somewhat helplessly at the huge pile of gifts, and Jaina went to him, and carefully took the gifts in his arms, then led him to a place to sit. "It would be rude not to open them. Here, I'll help you."
"Thank you," Thrall said, his voice tinged in relief. "That will be very much appreciated."
Jaina sat next to him, and selected a gift at random. "Here, this one is from one of your advisors." She read the name aloud. "Open it."
Thrall took it and did so, careful to preserve the card, so he'd remember who gave it to him. "I should write this down..."
"I'll do that." Jaina stood, and quickly selected a pen and a pad of paper, and sat back down. She wrote carefully, recording the gift. "At least you don't have to announce any more."
"My voice was getting quite sore, I hope to avoid more speeches," Thrall admitted. He set the gift aside, and Jaina handed him a second one. Heads bent together, they spent the next hour going over the gifts, making notes and sorting things. Thrall wondered, idly, where Garona was, but found that he was less concerned about his Spymistress than he should have been, not with Jaina right there for company, making clever, pointed observations and sharing anecdotes about her own experiences with Winter Veil.
"You're telling me most people believe that there is a Greatfather Winter that listens to their requests for gifts?" Thrall said, setting aside the last gift. The pile seemed less intimidating unwrapped and sorted, and Jaina's precise handwriting gave him an excellent idea what he owed and to whom.
"Most children," Jaina corrected. "Normally, you're well aware by the time you're ten or twelve that Greatfather Winter is old Stoutbeard from Drisburg, and not really a magical man who brings in both Winter and gifts."
"None of the children thought I was Greatfather Winter," Thrall observed. "They all knew I was the Warchief."
"Our tradition was very old, and when you grow up hearing it..." Jaina shrugged. "It might be just as well, some children are very crushed when they learn the truth."
"Were you?" Thrall asked, curious.
"Not very," Jaina admitted. "I'd suspected, but some..." She shook her head. "Some keep believing for a very, very long time."
"Does 'some' have a name I would recognize?" Thrall asked gently, and Jaina smiled thinly.
"It always comes back to him, doesn't it?" she asked, her tone softly bitter, even though the question was rhetorical. "Yes, Arthas believed for a very long time that Greatfather Winter was real. It was very endearing. When he believed in something..." Jaina shook her head. "He was very stubborn."
"So it would seem..." Thrall's voice trailed off, and Jaina didn't immediately notice, her gaze far away in some memory that brought her both joy and pain. "Jaina, would you be willing to stay until this evening?"
"What?" Jaina asked, shaking off her thoughts. "Oh, of course, but why? I thought the festivities were over?"
"I thought you might be able to help me find something to do with all of my gifts," Thrall said, thinking quickly. "We could have a more quiet dinner to discuss it, perhaps go for a walk."
Jaina smiled. "I'd like that," she replied. "I'd like that very much."
"Good," Thrall said, even as he mentally tried to work out how he could distract Jaina so she wouldn't notice what he was doing. I know what to get her as a second gift.
~ * ~
Jaina laughed softly, her fork paused halfway to her mouth. Thrall gave her a grin that could be considered 'wicked' by any sense of the word.
"...and then Grom storms out of his tent -- naked, naturally, because he'd been with someone -- and demands to know who keeps making that racket."
"Oh, no," Jaina said in between giggles. "What did you say?"
"We told him we were surprised he could hear us over himself," Thrall concluded, chuckling. "He thought it was funny too... eventually. After he'd ducked me under an icy waterfall. It's not as if I'd never done it before, but then I was mostly unclothed."
"You must have been a sight..." Jaina said. "Though if we're talking about awkward, there was one time, during transmutation, when we were supposed to be learning the Polymorph spell and someone managed to get a hold of a duck--"
"Warchief," Garona said, and Jaina paused. Thrall looked over at his Spymistress with a hint of curiosity. She had been reluctant earlier to provide him with a distraction so that he could craft Jaina's gift himself -- and he refused to let anyone else make it -- and now that it was mid-evening, he'd exhausted his imagination. Now, it seemed, Garona was going to help him after all. "There's an emergency. We need you."
"Oh dear, what's wrong?" Jaina asked softly. "Do you need my help?"
"No, I can take care of it," Thrall said quickly. "I have some scrolls on elementals I intended you to look over, would you do that while you wait? This may take some time, so please feel free to keep eating."
"Of course," Jaina said. Thrall stood, abandoning his meal to follow Garona, waiting until Jaina was out of earshot to relax.
"I was afraid I wouldn't have time to--"
"I'm not here to indulge you," Garona snapped. "There's an actual emergency. I've assembled your advisors."
Thrall tensed again. "What is it?"
"You'll see," the former assassin said tersely. "Not out here."
"Garona..." Thrall began, and followed her into the council chamber. He moved to sit on his great throne, and looked over his advisors. Jes'rimmon, a male troll, took the place Garona rightly should: she used the troll to conceal her identity amongst Orgrimmar's citizens, and while his advisors knew her true identity, she chose not to risk her appearance being recognized by an unexpected guest. Instead, the Darkspear troll sat on Thrall's left side. On his right sat Eitrigg of the Blackrock clan, the elder orc that had left the Horde after Blackhand's incompetence and recklessness and cost him the lives of his two sons. He'd lived a relatively peaceful life in Lordaeron until a human named Tirion Fordring had stumbled rather unexpectedly into his life, and now Eitrigg was here, advising Thrall and filling him on the details of his people's culture that he'd missed by being raised by humans.
Next to Eitrigg sat Varok Saurfang. The stern orc warrior was often taciturn, but when he spoke, Thrall listened. He was also the least likely to disagree with Thrall publicly, which often made it difficult to figure out precisely what he was thinking. Next to him sat Nara Whitemane, the young tauren druid that represented her people in Orgrimmar. Despite her youth, she was wise, and Thrall valued her advice, and appreciated having an idea what the Cenarion Circle was doing, and how they felt. Vol'jin, Sen'jin's successor, represented his own people, and Thrall couldn't help but feel guilty about Sen'jin's unfortunate death at the hands of the Sea Witch.
Rounding out the council were Shandel'zare and Naz'grel. Naz'grel was an experienced warrior, though he had also embraced shamanism, and was often in favour of ejecting the remaining human presence from Durotar. Shandel'zare was a troll mage, and in no particular order, old, cranky and racist. She seemed to hate everyone, and like Naz'grel, often opposed any efforts that Thrall attempted to implement, but Thrall knew her well enough to understand that her opposition came from her stringent support of his efforts, but that his often radical ideas needed to be justified and defended, and she was the one to put him on trial.
"Ladies, gentlemen," Garona said as Thrall sat. "We have a situation." Garona held up a communication crystal, and Thrall was startled to notice it was one of the ones Jaina had helped create, and from the soft murmuring of the council, it sounded as if they knew it too. "We've received word from Razor Hill that the humans of Tiragarde Keep are planning an assault as we speak. They want orders on how to proceed."
"They should know by now that any hostility from the humans should be met with force," Naz'grel snarled. "They shouldn't need to ask."
"Orders from the Warchief are to defend ourselves only," Saurfang pointed out, his voice low. "Though, this is a clear case of defense."
"Are they sure?" Thrall asked, his heart sinking. It would already be too late if we didn't have those crystals. No scout would have been able to ride from Razor Hill in time to stop this. Why now, of all times..?
"Very sure," Garona said grimly. "They haven't attacked yet, but they're massing for an assault. They look to be striking late at night."
"Coward's tactics," Naz'grel growled.
"Not something they be beyond," Vol'jin pointed out. "They were willing to bombard grass and wood huts when they assaulted the Echo Isles."
"We should have slaughtered their kind when Admiral Proudmoore died," Naz'grel snarled. "They've been nipping at our heels since the battle of Theramore."
"Speaking of which, Warchief," Shandel'zare interjected, meeting Thrall's stricken expression with an utterly cold one of her own. "Are we certain that Theramore's forces are uninvolved with these attacks?"
"Jaina is above reproach," Thrall said, his voice deepening with warning. "She has made enough sacrifices that anyone should be satisfied that she would not order such attack. It is unlikely her father's men would even listen to her."
"Naturally, Lady Proudmoore is not a suspect, but she doesn't always represent all of her men," the troll mage said, her expression stern. "You know that well enough, our spies report there have been deserters, even as recently as the last few months."
"There's no proof that those deserters are behind this, or that they even went to Tiragarde," Thrall said. "Daelin Proudmoore's men could have been ordered to keep attacking, even after his death."
"We have no time for speculation," Saurfang pointed out. "Something must be done before we lose our southern holdings."
"What do the spirits tell you?" Eitrigg asked, and Thrall glanced at the old orc. He had never once hesitated or shown reluctance to fight humans when needed, but his friendship with Tirion Fordring gave him the same distaste for casual slaughter that Thrall had.
"We send a force to meet them... and wipe them out," Thrall said, the words dropping from his lips like ship's anchors, and ships only brought his thoughts back to Jaina. "You're right, we can't keep playing a defensive game. We show them that the Horde are not to be toyed with. Do not slaughter them. If anyone surrenders, capture them, and do not hunt them down like dogs."
"They would do it to us," Naz'grel grumbled, but he seemed disturbingly pleased by Thrall's decisive actions. "If they return, or take shelter in Theramore?"
"I will speak to Lady Proudmoore, and make sure that she understands that giving sanctuary to those that would harm the Horde is a hostile action," Thrall replied, silencing any soft murmuring. "Varok, work with Shandel'zare to get our forces down there swiftly. If they don't know that we're anticipating their attack, so much the better."
"Yes, Warchief," they chorused, and stood. The table cleared swiftly, though Thrall caught Eitrigg's concerned look and Nara's openly worried one. Once only Garona was left, he buried his head in his hands. He felt a hand touch his shoulder.
"Thrall," Garona said, her voice surprisingly gentle. "Are you really going to tell her that?"
"Not in so many words," Thrall whispered. "Why did they do such a foolish thing? Even if they succeeded once, surely they'd realize that we'd strike back... they have to know it's a losing battle."
"There are some that all they know how to do is fight," she replied. "They challenge and fight, and fight, until they die, or their enemy is dead."
"It's a waste," Thrall muttered. "They could go home if they really wanted to."
"Sometimes, I don't think you understand just how vast the hate humans hold for orcs truly is. Yes, some humans. Just as some orcs hate humans just as deeply."
"Garona, I'd like to be alone," Thrall said quietly. "Make sure Jaina is safe. If word of this gets out, her life could be in danger."
"Of course, Warchief," Garona replied, and patted his back lightly. "You did the right thing, you know. Show of strength and show of restraint."
"Then why do I feel sick?" Thrall asked quietly. "It wasn't this bad when we were escaping from the Camps, it wasn't this bad when I had to free Grom..."
"It's different because it's hard to feel justified when you have a large, secure holding and you're fighting against people who are no better than leaderless mercenaries," Garona answered. "But no matter how many of them there are, you still have to protect your people. You're their Warchief." She patted his shoulder again. "I'll make sure Jaina is safe."
"Thank you," Thrall said. He sat by himself for a long time, thinking and turning everything over in his head. Slowly, he stood, and went to collect the things he would need to give Jaina the news.
~ * ~
"Is everything alright?" Jaina asked softly. Thrall smiled at her, feeling neither like smiling, nor 'alright'. Jaina was lounging in Thrall's room, and had a book propped against one of his pillows while she was curled up on his bed, the blanket she had given him tucked around her feet and legs. She sat up immediately, setting the book down.
"There's something I need to talk to you about," Thrall began, and took a chair, sitting it in front of her so he could look her in the eye. Jaina's expression immediately shifted to worry. "Tonight we received word that the soldiers in Tiragarde Keep were planning an assault on Razor Hill."
"What?!" Jaina cried. "What are they doing? This is Winter Veil, have they no sense of decency left at all, and to what end? Razor Hill is a farming community!"
It was difficult for Thrall to find joy in the fact that Jaina was as upset by this as he was, and instead took one of her hands in his. "I'm ordering them to be wiped out if it comes to it. There is a possibility that they will try to go to Theramore for sanctuary."
"They'll be criminals, of course, Thrall," Jaina said, her eyes troubled. "I won't let them get away with this. Your people... it's just wrong."
"I knew you'd say that," Thrall replied. Carefully, he drew out something from behind his back, and Jaina made a soft noise. "I remember what you said about wreaths, so I want you to have this, Jaina, and this promise: I will do whatever I can to preserve peace between our people. I didn't want to have to order the deaths of the Tiragarde forces, but it's the only way either of us will see peace."
"I... Thrall..." Jaina said, and shook her head slightly. "I can't..."
"Take it, please," Thrall urged. "I believe that you are above reproach, but not everyone does, and not everyone will. This is between the two of us. No matter what happens, we will never be at war."
"Never," Jaina agreed. "Thrall, I should go back to Theramore. I want to make sure that no word of this was passed between my own forces. If they have, I promise to deal with them." She leaned forward, and pressed her lips to Thrall's cheek. "The Horde could have no better leader than you."
"Thank you, Jaina," Thrall said, finally feeling the sick knot that had formed at the bottom of his stomach when Garona had first delivered the news come undone, only to be replaced by a second, odder sensation.
"I've had a wonderful time," Jaina continued, going to collect her gifts, never letting go of the wreath. "I'm glad your people are learning so much about Winter Veil. There are other holidays, if you want to learn about them. I'd be happy to tell you anything you need to know."
"I'd like that," Thrall said, watching her. "Perhaps the next time we meet?"
"That would be wonderful," Jaina replied. She collected her shoes, and when ready, she turned around, and smiled again. "Goodbye, Thrall. Until the next time."
"Goodbye, Jaina," Thrall replied, and watched her teleport away, then he went to the bed, and touched over it, and was pleasantly surprised to find it still warm.
Chapter 4
Title: Unity
Part: 3 of ? (I have no idea. They won't stop talking)
Word Count: 4230 (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 hands out gifts to the children of Orgrimmar, and then bad things happen.
Previous Chapters: 1 2
Morning came all too quickly, and soon Thrall was stretching, yawning, and dressing himself in his Greatfather Winter outfit. Garona had not commented on the carefully folded blanket on the cot, and simply asked when he'd be ready to see the children.
"Now is as good a time as any," Thrall said, and stretched again. "Were we able to obtain everything?"
"Fortunately, what they wanted was relatively simple," Garona said, shaking her head. "You know this will get increasingly more difficult to top."
"One year at a time," Thrall said gently. "Did you do as I asked?"
"Lady Proudmoore's security detail has been arranged," Garona said, and smirked at him. "And here I thought you were too naive to think people might be upset that you brought a human here for Winter Veil."
"I'm not naive," Thrall growled warningly. "The last thing we need, on this of all days, is an assassination attempt."
"Of course not," Garona snorted. "We're ready when you are, Warchief. Try not to look like you've had a rough night."
"Cots aren't known for being comfortable," Thrall said. "But what are you--"
"Thrall?" Jaina called softly, and he turned. He smiled at her as she concealed a small yawn behind one hand. "Who are you talking to?"
"Just a..." He gestured, Garona was already gone. "...guard. I'm giving out gifts, would you like to join me?"
"Of course!" Jaina said, and Thrall was pleased to note much of her good humour had returned. She took his proffered arm, and went with him as he started to walk. "It's very ambitious to take care of all of this yourself. I'm used to a number of 'helpers'."
"I wanted the first Winter Veil in Orgrimmar to be memorable," Thrall said. "I won't be able to do this every year, but I wanted it to be done at least once."
"Good of you," Jaina murmured. "You never know, it might be worth actually arranging for some kind special first Winter Veil for children too young to remember this. If it's only a relatively small number of children a year, it wouldn't be as difficult, and any child would value their first gift from the Warchief."
"I like it," Thrall said, his mind racing to prepare for just that eventuality. "Particularly if I start having children of my own."
"It's only a matter of time," Jaina said graciously. "Did you meet anyone nice?"
"Ten year olds are a bit young for me," Thrall joked, and at Jaina's raised eyebrow, he continued. "A number of my partners were young children, and I couldn't say no to them when they asked me to dance. More than one fell asleep on me. I hope it's not a statement about the company they were keeping."
Jaina giggled softly. "I think it's because it was so late." Thrall walked with her past the guards, letting their conversation drift past him as they fell into step. "So, what's the plan?"
"They're going to let me get into place before the heralds start announcing to come to the tree," Thrall explained. "I suspect, however, this procession will garner some attention."
"You are dressed as Greatfather Winter," Jaina pointed out. Some of the people coming out of their homes stared, and while Thrall frowned, Jaina waved, and her attention caused some of the youngest of them to hide shyly behind her parents' legs. "They've come out to see you."
"Not just me," Thrall murmured. The procession continued towards the large tree that had been set up where Thrall had originally sat as Greatfather Winter and listened to requests. The pile of gifts was nothing short of monumental, and Thrall was pleased that he would be able to hand them out to children in need of something special after all the time they'd spend running from humans and hiding from the undead and demons.
Thrall moved to the chair that had been prepared for him -- Garona had, from what Thrall could see, added an extra cushion or two to it, and he reminded himself to thank her later -- and sat down. Already, a dozen children were waiting eagerly to get their gifts, and more were appearing as heralds roused the city. Thrall nodded to the guards, who arranged themselves around Jaina in a protective manner.
"I hope you're ready for this," Garona murmured, and Thrall nodded.
Once the children had been gathered, Thrall began, "Children of Orgrimmar, welcome. Greatfather Winter has heard your requests, and now, on the day of Winter Veil, he has left you gifts. I will call your name, and you'll come up to get your gift."
The children cheered, and Thrall's chest swelled with pride. He nodded once, to Garona, who leaned over to pick up a gift, and handed it to the Warchief. "Nakthak, son of Barnar!" Thrall called. Hurriedly, a child picked his way through the crowd, running to Thrall to get his gift. Thrall handed it to him, and smiled. "Happy Winter Veil."
"Happy Winter Veil, Warchief," the boy said shyly, and scampered off with his gift. Thrall continued, and noted that Garona would take an armful of gifts, to increase the speed that Thrall could distribute each gift. Absorbed as he was, he was startled when a mug was thrust into his view.
"Drink, you're getting hoarse," Jaina urged, and he met her eyes. She smiled at him warmly. "It won't take very long. They'd be demoralized if their Warchief lost his voice."
"Thank you," Thrall said, and took a long sip, then clearing his throat several times. "This is very good."
"I know a thing or two about taking care of people who do a lot of talking. At least you aren't lecturing."
"This way, Lady Proudmoore," one of Jaina's escort said, and urged her away from Thrall.
"I'll bring more," she promised, and backed away. Thrall smiled as she went, and went back to his task. Slowly, the pile shrank, and Jaina brought back another mug, though this time he noticed that she was juggling things to keep them from falling.
"What are those?" Thrall asked curiously.
"Some of the children offered me gifts," Jaina said. "I must admit, I can no more refuse them than you can, they're so sweet." She handed him the mug, and then showed off some bright, simple trinkets, including strings of beads, and a small wreath. "They said they remembered me as a hero from Hyjal."
"You did save my life," Thrall agreed, smiling at her. "You have the right to be recognized."
"It was the right thing to do," Jaina insisted. "I--"
Garona cleared her throat.
"I'm sorry, I'll be done soon," Thrall said, and continued. As he finished, he noted that some of the children also left gifts for him, similar in caliber to what Jaina received, and he thanked each child that gave him something, and met the eyes of their hopeful parents. I'll have to ask Garona if she recalls every person that gave me something so they can be thanked properly... gift giving is complex.
"Wreaths mean something special to humans," Thrall heard Jaina say as he was giving the last gift. "They're a promise, something special and precious. You give a wreath to someone you really care about. They're also a good reminder that Spring will come again, and it won't be cold and dark forever."
"I promise I'll be good and always eat my roots with my meat," a gap-toothed orc girl told Jaina breathlessly. "So I can grow up to be strong and serve the Warchief."
"I'm sure he can't wait," Jaina replied, patting her on the head, and the girl giggled. "Go on, now."
"Bye!" the girl said, and ran off to her parents. Jaina noticed Thrall's gaze, and met his eyes with a warm smile.
"I'll admit I didn't know that about wreaths," Thrall said, standing. He winced, despite the extra padding, his back was still sore. He made a mental note to speak to a healer about it. "Did she give you one?"
"She did," Jaina replied, and held up the small wreath. "I'll have to find a place to hang it in my office. I'm sure Tervosh will be thrilled to find that I've acquired a number of new trinkets."
"As have I, or so it would seem," Thrall said. "I don't think I can carry these the whole way."
"Will your guard mind if I teleport us directly to the Hold, then?" Jaina asked curiously. "That way nothing will be damaged."
"I don't believe so," Thrall said, and looked towards Garona. It was difficult to tell her exact expression behind her helm, but he suspected she was rolling her eyes. She made a shooing motion, and Thrall turned back. "It'll be fine."
"Good..." Jaina carefully freed a hand to place it on Thrall's wrist, and blue runes floated around them, taking them back to Grommash Hold. With no small amount of relief, Thrall immediately went to set down his wealth of gifts, only to be met by even more of them waiting for him in his personal chambers.
"Oh... my," Thrall managed, and heard Jaina laughing softly behind him.
"It seems that helper gnomes were busy while you were giving out gifts," she said, finding a clear space to set down her own gifts. "You're well-loved, Thrall. A true testament to your actions."
"I'd prefer to leave a legacy, but this is welcome too."
Thrall stood, staring somewhat helplessly at the huge pile of gifts, and Jaina went to him, and carefully took the gifts in his arms, then led him to a place to sit. "It would be rude not to open them. Here, I'll help you."
"Thank you," Thrall said, his voice tinged in relief. "That will be very much appreciated."
Jaina sat next to him, and selected a gift at random. "Here, this one is from one of your advisors." She read the name aloud. "Open it."
Thrall took it and did so, careful to preserve the card, so he'd remember who gave it to him. "I should write this down..."
"I'll do that." Jaina stood, and quickly selected a pen and a pad of paper, and sat back down. She wrote carefully, recording the gift. "At least you don't have to announce any more."
"My voice was getting quite sore, I hope to avoid more speeches," Thrall admitted. He set the gift aside, and Jaina handed him a second one. Heads bent together, they spent the next hour going over the gifts, making notes and sorting things. Thrall wondered, idly, where Garona was, but found that he was less concerned about his Spymistress than he should have been, not with Jaina right there for company, making clever, pointed observations and sharing anecdotes about her own experiences with Winter Veil.
"You're telling me most people believe that there is a Greatfather Winter that listens to their requests for gifts?" Thrall said, setting aside the last gift. The pile seemed less intimidating unwrapped and sorted, and Jaina's precise handwriting gave him an excellent idea what he owed and to whom.
"Most children," Jaina corrected. "Normally, you're well aware by the time you're ten or twelve that Greatfather Winter is old Stoutbeard from Drisburg, and not really a magical man who brings in both Winter and gifts."
"None of the children thought I was Greatfather Winter," Thrall observed. "They all knew I was the Warchief."
"Our tradition was very old, and when you grow up hearing it..." Jaina shrugged. "It might be just as well, some children are very crushed when they learn the truth."
"Were you?" Thrall asked, curious.
"Not very," Jaina admitted. "I'd suspected, but some..." She shook her head. "Some keep believing for a very, very long time."
"Does 'some' have a name I would recognize?" Thrall asked gently, and Jaina smiled thinly.
"It always comes back to him, doesn't it?" she asked, her tone softly bitter, even though the question was rhetorical. "Yes, Arthas believed for a very long time that Greatfather Winter was real. It was very endearing. When he believed in something..." Jaina shook her head. "He was very stubborn."
"So it would seem..." Thrall's voice trailed off, and Jaina didn't immediately notice, her gaze far away in some memory that brought her both joy and pain. "Jaina, would you be willing to stay until this evening?"
"What?" Jaina asked, shaking off her thoughts. "Oh, of course, but why? I thought the festivities were over?"
"I thought you might be able to help me find something to do with all of my gifts," Thrall said, thinking quickly. "We could have a more quiet dinner to discuss it, perhaps go for a walk."
Jaina smiled. "I'd like that," she replied. "I'd like that very much."
"Good," Thrall said, even as he mentally tried to work out how he could distract Jaina so she wouldn't notice what he was doing. I know what to get her as a second gift.
~ * ~
Jaina laughed softly, her fork paused halfway to her mouth. Thrall gave her a grin that could be considered 'wicked' by any sense of the word.
"...and then Grom storms out of his tent -- naked, naturally, because he'd been with someone -- and demands to know who keeps making that racket."
"Oh, no," Jaina said in between giggles. "What did you say?"
"We told him we were surprised he could hear us over himself," Thrall concluded, chuckling. "He thought it was funny too... eventually. After he'd ducked me under an icy waterfall. It's not as if I'd never done it before, but then I was mostly unclothed."
"You must have been a sight..." Jaina said. "Though if we're talking about awkward, there was one time, during transmutation, when we were supposed to be learning the Polymorph spell and someone managed to get a hold of a duck--"
"Warchief," Garona said, and Jaina paused. Thrall looked over at his Spymistress with a hint of curiosity. She had been reluctant earlier to provide him with a distraction so that he could craft Jaina's gift himself -- and he refused to let anyone else make it -- and now that it was mid-evening, he'd exhausted his imagination. Now, it seemed, Garona was going to help him after all. "There's an emergency. We need you."
"Oh dear, what's wrong?" Jaina asked softly. "Do you need my help?"
"No, I can take care of it," Thrall said quickly. "I have some scrolls on elementals I intended you to look over, would you do that while you wait? This may take some time, so please feel free to keep eating."
"Of course," Jaina said. Thrall stood, abandoning his meal to follow Garona, waiting until Jaina was out of earshot to relax.
"I was afraid I wouldn't have time to--"
"I'm not here to indulge you," Garona snapped. "There's an actual emergency. I've assembled your advisors."
Thrall tensed again. "What is it?"
"You'll see," the former assassin said tersely. "Not out here."
"Garona..." Thrall began, and followed her into the council chamber. He moved to sit on his great throne, and looked over his advisors. Jes'rimmon, a male troll, took the place Garona rightly should: she used the troll to conceal her identity amongst Orgrimmar's citizens, and while his advisors knew her true identity, she chose not to risk her appearance being recognized by an unexpected guest. Instead, the Darkspear troll sat on Thrall's left side. On his right sat Eitrigg of the Blackrock clan, the elder orc that had left the Horde after Blackhand's incompetence and recklessness and cost him the lives of his two sons. He'd lived a relatively peaceful life in Lordaeron until a human named Tirion Fordring had stumbled rather unexpectedly into his life, and now Eitrigg was here, advising Thrall and filling him on the details of his people's culture that he'd missed by being raised by humans.
Next to Eitrigg sat Varok Saurfang. The stern orc warrior was often taciturn, but when he spoke, Thrall listened. He was also the least likely to disagree with Thrall publicly, which often made it difficult to figure out precisely what he was thinking. Next to him sat Nara Whitemane, the young tauren druid that represented her people in Orgrimmar. Despite her youth, she was wise, and Thrall valued her advice, and appreciated having an idea what the Cenarion Circle was doing, and how they felt. Vol'jin, Sen'jin's successor, represented his own people, and Thrall couldn't help but feel guilty about Sen'jin's unfortunate death at the hands of the Sea Witch.
Rounding out the council were Shandel'zare and Naz'grel. Naz'grel was an experienced warrior, though he had also embraced shamanism, and was often in favour of ejecting the remaining human presence from Durotar. Shandel'zare was a troll mage, and in no particular order, old, cranky and racist. She seemed to hate everyone, and like Naz'grel, often opposed any efforts that Thrall attempted to implement, but Thrall knew her well enough to understand that her opposition came from her stringent support of his efforts, but that his often radical ideas needed to be justified and defended, and she was the one to put him on trial.
"Ladies, gentlemen," Garona said as Thrall sat. "We have a situation." Garona held up a communication crystal, and Thrall was startled to notice it was one of the ones Jaina had helped create, and from the soft murmuring of the council, it sounded as if they knew it too. "We've received word from Razor Hill that the humans of Tiragarde Keep are planning an assault as we speak. They want orders on how to proceed."
"They should know by now that any hostility from the humans should be met with force," Naz'grel snarled. "They shouldn't need to ask."
"Orders from the Warchief are to defend ourselves only," Saurfang pointed out, his voice low. "Though, this is a clear case of defense."
"Are they sure?" Thrall asked, his heart sinking. It would already be too late if we didn't have those crystals. No scout would have been able to ride from Razor Hill in time to stop this. Why now, of all times..?
"Very sure," Garona said grimly. "They haven't attacked yet, but they're massing for an assault. They look to be striking late at night."
"Coward's tactics," Naz'grel growled.
"Not something they be beyond," Vol'jin pointed out. "They were willing to bombard grass and wood huts when they assaulted the Echo Isles."
"We should have slaughtered their kind when Admiral Proudmoore died," Naz'grel snarled. "They've been nipping at our heels since the battle of Theramore."
"Speaking of which, Warchief," Shandel'zare interjected, meeting Thrall's stricken expression with an utterly cold one of her own. "Are we certain that Theramore's forces are uninvolved with these attacks?"
"Jaina is above reproach," Thrall said, his voice deepening with warning. "She has made enough sacrifices that anyone should be satisfied that she would not order such attack. It is unlikely her father's men would even listen to her."
"Naturally, Lady Proudmoore is not a suspect, but she doesn't always represent all of her men," the troll mage said, her expression stern. "You know that well enough, our spies report there have been deserters, even as recently as the last few months."
"There's no proof that those deserters are behind this, or that they even went to Tiragarde," Thrall said. "Daelin Proudmoore's men could have been ordered to keep attacking, even after his death."
"We have no time for speculation," Saurfang pointed out. "Something must be done before we lose our southern holdings."
"What do the spirits tell you?" Eitrigg asked, and Thrall glanced at the old orc. He had never once hesitated or shown reluctance to fight humans when needed, but his friendship with Tirion Fordring gave him the same distaste for casual slaughter that Thrall had.
"We send a force to meet them... and wipe them out," Thrall said, the words dropping from his lips like ship's anchors, and ships only brought his thoughts back to Jaina. "You're right, we can't keep playing a defensive game. We show them that the Horde are not to be toyed with. Do not slaughter them. If anyone surrenders, capture them, and do not hunt them down like dogs."
"They would do it to us," Naz'grel grumbled, but he seemed disturbingly pleased by Thrall's decisive actions. "If they return, or take shelter in Theramore?"
"I will speak to Lady Proudmoore, and make sure that she understands that giving sanctuary to those that would harm the Horde is a hostile action," Thrall replied, silencing any soft murmuring. "Varok, work with Shandel'zare to get our forces down there swiftly. If they don't know that we're anticipating their attack, so much the better."
"Yes, Warchief," they chorused, and stood. The table cleared swiftly, though Thrall caught Eitrigg's concerned look and Nara's openly worried one. Once only Garona was left, he buried his head in his hands. He felt a hand touch his shoulder.
"Thrall," Garona said, her voice surprisingly gentle. "Are you really going to tell her that?"
"Not in so many words," Thrall whispered. "Why did they do such a foolish thing? Even if they succeeded once, surely they'd realize that we'd strike back... they have to know it's a losing battle."
"There are some that all they know how to do is fight," she replied. "They challenge and fight, and fight, until they die, or their enemy is dead."
"It's a waste," Thrall muttered. "They could go home if they really wanted to."
"Sometimes, I don't think you understand just how vast the hate humans hold for orcs truly is. Yes, some humans. Just as some orcs hate humans just as deeply."
"Garona, I'd like to be alone," Thrall said quietly. "Make sure Jaina is safe. If word of this gets out, her life could be in danger."
"Of course, Warchief," Garona replied, and patted his back lightly. "You did the right thing, you know. Show of strength and show of restraint."
"Then why do I feel sick?" Thrall asked quietly. "It wasn't this bad when we were escaping from the Camps, it wasn't this bad when I had to free Grom..."
"It's different because it's hard to feel justified when you have a large, secure holding and you're fighting against people who are no better than leaderless mercenaries," Garona answered. "But no matter how many of them there are, you still have to protect your people. You're their Warchief." She patted his shoulder again. "I'll make sure Jaina is safe."
"Thank you," Thrall said. He sat by himself for a long time, thinking and turning everything over in his head. Slowly, he stood, and went to collect the things he would need to give Jaina the news.
~ * ~
"Is everything alright?" Jaina asked softly. Thrall smiled at her, feeling neither like smiling, nor 'alright'. Jaina was lounging in Thrall's room, and had a book propped against one of his pillows while she was curled up on his bed, the blanket she had given him tucked around her feet and legs. She sat up immediately, setting the book down.
"There's something I need to talk to you about," Thrall began, and took a chair, sitting it in front of her so he could look her in the eye. Jaina's expression immediately shifted to worry. "Tonight we received word that the soldiers in Tiragarde Keep were planning an assault on Razor Hill."
"What?!" Jaina cried. "What are they doing? This is Winter Veil, have they no sense of decency left at all, and to what end? Razor Hill is a farming community!"
It was difficult for Thrall to find joy in the fact that Jaina was as upset by this as he was, and instead took one of her hands in his. "I'm ordering them to be wiped out if it comes to it. There is a possibility that they will try to go to Theramore for sanctuary."
"They'll be criminals, of course, Thrall," Jaina said, her eyes troubled. "I won't let them get away with this. Your people... it's just wrong."
"I knew you'd say that," Thrall replied. Carefully, he drew out something from behind his back, and Jaina made a soft noise. "I remember what you said about wreaths, so I want you to have this, Jaina, and this promise: I will do whatever I can to preserve peace between our people. I didn't want to have to order the deaths of the Tiragarde forces, but it's the only way either of us will see peace."
"I... Thrall..." Jaina said, and shook her head slightly. "I can't..."
"Take it, please," Thrall urged. "I believe that you are above reproach, but not everyone does, and not everyone will. This is between the two of us. No matter what happens, we will never be at war."
"Never," Jaina agreed. "Thrall, I should go back to Theramore. I want to make sure that no word of this was passed between my own forces. If they have, I promise to deal with them." She leaned forward, and pressed her lips to Thrall's cheek. "The Horde could have no better leader than you."
"Thank you, Jaina," Thrall said, finally feeling the sick knot that had formed at the bottom of his stomach when Garona had first delivered the news come undone, only to be replaced by a second, odder sensation.
"I've had a wonderful time," Jaina continued, going to collect her gifts, never letting go of the wreath. "I'm glad your people are learning so much about Winter Veil. There are other holidays, if you want to learn about them. I'd be happy to tell you anything you need to know."
"I'd like that," Thrall said, watching her. "Perhaps the next time we meet?"
"That would be wonderful," Jaina replied. She collected her shoes, and when ready, she turned around, and smiled again. "Goodbye, Thrall. Until the next time."
"Goodbye, Jaina," Thrall replied, and watched her teleport away, then he went to the bed, and touched over it, and was pleasantly surprised to find it still warm.
Chapter 4