Unity - Chapter 6
The end of this arc is coming to an end, but the story isn't done yet! I'm also unfortunately approaching the end of my pre-written stuff, so it may take longer to update, but I'll try and keep things consistent. Doing my word count, man, that chapter was short when I split it. Sorry guys.
Title: Unity
Part: 6 of ? (I have no idea. They won't stop talking)
Word Count: 3475 (of this part)
Warnings: Implied sex, actual sex, orc/human, mentioned death and suicide, angst. Angst, violence and drama.
Pairings: Mentioned Thrall/Others, primarily Thrall/Jaina. Mentioned past Arthas/Jaina and past one-sided Kael/Jaina.
Summary: The conspiracy twists deeper, and there is a very important meeting with melted chocolate and fruit.
Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5
"I apologize, Lady Proudmoore," Doctor Gustaf VanHowzen said, pressing a bandage to his arm. "I'm no soldier, I couldn't hold them off."
"It's not your fault," Jaina assured him. "Thrall..."
"Let me see," Thrall said, and reluctantly, the human doctor released his death grip on the bandage, giving Thrall a moment to get a peek at the deep wound. He gave him a look of sympathy, and let his fingers rest on either side of the wound. He called on the elements to bring healing to this brave man, and VanHowzen hissed softly as the wound began to knit closed. "You'll still need to wear a bandage, but--"
"It won't get an infection, and it will heal faster," VanHowzen finished. "Thank you, er, Warchief. I've been in the acquaintance of a number of healers, though I'm not one myself. Lady Proudmoore, what did they want?"
"Evidence," Jaina said grimly. "I should have searched Reethe sooner, or maybe even his body was damning enough. There's a conspiracy at work, Gustaf. There are traitors and I need to deal with them. Did you find anything before they took the body?"
"I found some papers I couldn't read, but they had a seal on them like the symbol you described," VanHowzen replied, and reached up to wipe the brow of his rapidly balding head. "Strangest language I've ever seen."
"Do you still have them?" Jaina asked eagerly. "They might not have--"
"They destroyed my office, Lady Proudmoore," the doctor replied, sighing heavily. "All of my patient records -- including yours -- are gone. I'll have to start from scratch, they even destroyed the archive."
Jaina glanced, almost nervously, over at Thrall, and he raised an eyebrow in reply. "Well, I'm sure you'll manage it, but I'll understand if you don't hurry. You need to take care of yourself. Is there anything at all left?"
"No, I'm sorry," VanHowzen replied, sighing again. "They even took the chunks of that Sc-- Forsaken that you brought in, but I don't even think we had the whole body. It seemed like it was missing too much."
"I couldn't get the arm away from Snowsong," Thrall murmured, only mildly sheepish. "She earned it."
"Did you see what they looked like, at least?" Jaina asked gently, distracting the doctor from the rather horrified look he was giving Thrall.
"I saw masks, my Lady, and dark clothes. They were well-disguised." He shook his head. "It was strange, though, to wear such dark clothes and such bright red masks. Seemed besides the point."
Jaina went still, and Thrall watched her. "Jaina, what is it?"
"Gustaf, I want you to report to the healers." The older man opened his mouth to protest and she lifted a hand. "No, don't argue. You need to be taken care of. Your assistants can clean up the mess. Warchief Thrall and I are going to investigate this further. This is getting out of hand if trouble is being brought within these walls."
"Jaina," Thrall said softly.
"Not here," Jaina replied inaudibly. "My office."
Thrall nodded once, and Jaina patted the doctor's shoulder. VanHowzen gave Jaina a long look, then Thrall, and it rather disturbingly resembled something his advisors would have given him. Jaina stood up, taking one last look around the morgue, and crooked her finger slightly at Thrall. He followed obligingly, and blue runes floated around them as Jaina completed her spell.
"What is it?" Thrall asked. "This is upsetting, but his description of the assailants bothered you." Jaina was silent, and she moved over to her desk. She gripped it, her knuckles going white, and emotion played across her face, going from upset, to angry, to disturbed, and back again. Thrall moved to her side, and gently, reminding himself that he was not to act in a way that was inappropriate for friends, took her hands, and encouraged them to relax. "Tell me."
"You must not use this," Jaina whispered. "I know you have spies in Theramore. I have spies in Orgrimmar. We know that our friendship cannot ever exclude politics."
Thrall stiffened slightly, but nodded. "No, Jaina, I won't use what you tell me."
She nodded, paused, and then nodded again. "Let me show you," she said, and took her hands from his, but Thrall thought there was hesitation there, though the reluctance could have been anything.
Focus, he told himself sternly. Now is not the time.
Jaina reached under her robes, and unlike the last pendant she wore, this one was simply a key. She undid the clasp, and made an arcane sign over the key, and Thrall watched in fascination as the key's shape altered, and then she reached down, pushing it into the lock of the bottommost left drawer. She turned the key, and opened the drawer, which was deeper than it looked, for reasons that Thrall could only assume were magical. Jaina lifted a small stack of papers, tied with a red ribbon out of the drawer, and slid the drawer closed again, locking it once more.
"These are letters I've received from Stormwind," Jaina said, her voice holding a hint of worry and fear. She slid the ribbon off of the pile, and opened the first one. "In them, they mention a problem they've had. Stormwind's rebuilding project was actually started before the true end of the Second War. Believing that the Dark Portal would never open again, Stormwind's king, Varian Wrynn, returned there to start rebuilding the city, though that was delayed when Stormwind was raided for the Tome of Medivh by first the remains of the Perenolde house and then the old Horde's Death Knights. Eventually, though, the city was proven to be truly safe, and Varian commissioned a staggering number of architects and artisans to bring his capital back to its former glory."
Thrall nodded, and a sense of unease grew within him. He knew quite well who Varian Wrynn was -- there was little Garona truly regretted, and he'd seen her kill more than her share of men without hesitation, but Llane Wrynn's death haunted her still -- and he didn't like where this might be going.
"The Stonemason's guild was, at that time, led by a man named Edwin VanCleef. His father was also a stone mason, though not as well known, and Edwin was a brilliant architect. He managed to restore Stormwind, and make it better. The canals alone are a work of art. When it was done, he submitted a bill."
"This doesn't sound like it's a problem," Thrall said. "I have no doubt it was very expensive. Our debts are not insubstantial due to the construction of Orgrimmar. I believe it bothers some of my advisors to consider budgeting within our meetings."
"Varian and his council refused to pay it."
Thrall stared at her. "What? Why?"
"I don't know," Jaina whispered. "I really don't. I thought Varian was smarter than that -- we're not close friends, but I knew him well enough, or so I thought. The official claim was that VanCleef and his employees were to have done it for free, in the name of patriotism." Thrall was silent, and Jaina nodded. "I know what you're thinking, and I agree. I think it's stupid too. It gets worse. VanCleef started a riot, and a lot of people died. Varian threw VanCleef and the Stonemasons that supported him out of Stormwind with nothing. The reports in the letters indicate that they formed a group of bandits calling themselves the Defias Brotherhood. Most of what's in those letters details their crimes to date. No one knows where they're based, but they believe it's somewhere in Westfall."
"I'm not sure what this has to do with--"
"Read the letters, Thrall," Jaina whispered. "Just... do it."
Thrall frowned, but nodded, and picked up the letters. He found himself genuinely appalled by the arrogance at some of it, but there were hints of something else as well: instability and grief. He made a mental note to ask Jaina about it, and continued to read. "There are descriptions of what the Defias use as their calling..." He paused. "Red bandit masks. It's distinctive."
"Yes," Jaina whispered. "No other criminal organization disguises themselves that boldly. If Gustaf saw them, it must mean that the Defias, along with the Grimtotem, some of the Forsaken, and this woman are all connected."
"What do they gain from this?" Thrall asked. "You aren't on the best terms with the other human nations."
"No, I'm not," Jaina sighed. "And Varian holds grudges deeply and bitterly. I'm concerned that the Defias being present here will bring Stormwind's army to Kalimdor... and they will not like what they find."
"Jaina..." Thrall whispered, reaching for her hand, and she took it, squeezing his fingers tightly.
"I can handle Varian," she said. "But if I can't investigate this further, you must. Please. Justice must be served."
"You can't offer yourself as a sacrifice," Thrall objected. "None of this is your fault."
"Nothing so dramatic," Jaina replied softly. "But I still answer to the Alliance. I can distract Varian from any march he may make into Kalimdor, but I won't be able to leave Theramore. This is only a precaution. It doesn't have to come now, it could come in a year's time, or two."
"You'll always have sanctuary with me," Thrall said, and instantly regretted his wording, but plowed on: "I won't allow one of my allies to be harmed. Come to Orgrimmar and you'll be safe."
"Thrall, I..." Jaina began, and tears swelled in her eyes, and Thrall watched her blink them away rapidly. She leaned over, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, her lips warm against his skin.
Don't... don't... he warned himself. "I mean it."
"I know you do," Jaina replied, and quickly wiped at her eyes. "Thank you."
"Now, this connection with the Defias leaves us exactly... where?"
"There's a connection between at least some of the conspiracies," Jaina said, sniffling slightly. "The deserters here don't believe we should be allied with the Horde, and I'd imagine many don't even want to be in Kalimdor."
"The Grimtotem believe that the tauren should leave the Horde, and that it was a mistake to join at all," Thrall added. "And the Forsaken hate the Scourge and fear the living."
"Living that are still citizens of Lordaeron," Jaina murmured. "The Defias, if they're involved at all, would hate Varian and his council, and may very well hate the citizen of Azeroth in general."
"From the sounds of their raids, they do, if they're attacking farmers," Thrall growled. "So that leaves this woman, and the dragons. I doubt they could possibly have let her live in their land unmolested. They drove out the Stonemaul clan."
"It could be that the dragons are controlling this woman and using her by proxy," Jaina offered. "There are all kinds of horror stories about the magic dragons can wield."
"My understanding of the dragons used by the old Horde is that they were very... straightforward in their methods of destruction." Jaina flinched, but nodded. "We need to find out who this woman is."
"I can try to interrogate the prisoners," Jaina said. She carefully folded and resealed the letters, returning them to their hiding spot. "They might know something. At this point, even a nickname might do."
"I'll go with you," Thrall said. "I've been known to be intimidating, from time to time."
"Only to those who don't know you," Jaina murmured, almost inaudible. "Alright, let's go."
Thrall tried not to smile, and waited for Jaina to cast another teleportation spell. This one brought them to Theramore's Keep. Outside, there were several people shouting loudly.
"No, I said--"
"--you didn't, Sergeant Alliston said--"
"--he's on leave, don't even try--"
"Gentlemen," Jaina said loudly, and the soldiers immediately stood at attention.
"Lady Proudmoore, we didn't see--"
"Me here, because you were too busy arguing. What's going on?" Jaina gave them both a stern look, nipping any excuses they may have tried to make in the bud.
"Well, Roland here said that Sergeant Alliston ordered him to move some prisoners," the first one said. "But Alliston is on leave because he's having -- his wife, that is -- is having a baby, and he wants to be there."
"I swear it was him," the second insisted. "Came right up to me, he did, and said that the prisoners from your Ladyship's raid of Lost Point Tower needed to be moved--"
"No," Jaina whispered and ran past them. "No!"
"Jaina..." Thrall called, and ran after her, leaving both soldiers to stare in utter bewilderment. It wasn't difficult to find the holding areas. There was only one other person there, and a cursory glance -- and sniff -- seemed to indicate that he was arrested for overindulgence rather than dangerous criminal activity. A much larger cell was totally empty, though it had not been unoccupied long. "Jaina?"
"They're gone," Jaina cried in frustration. "They could have known something, and they're gone!"
"This could go even deeper than we thought, if someone can fake orders to your own me--"
Jaina screamed wordlessly, in anger, frustration and misery, and Thrall couldn't help but flinch at the sound as it echoed, startling the drunk out of his stupor.
"Y'mind keeping it down?" the man slurred without opening his eyes. "You're as bad as them that came in here. Yammerin' on and on about how they was gonna die, and how Lady On-yee or something was gonna kill 'em."
Thrall froze, and looked towards the drunk. "Lady what?"
"On-yee," the man mumbled. "Somethin' like that. Somethin' like black."
"Onyx," Jaina muttered. "There are black dragons in Dustwallow, and there is another possible connection between them and this mystery woman."
"Dragons? Whare?!" the man sat up with a start, banging his head on the bars, and then, bleary-eyed, looked at Thrall. "Youse is an orc, ain'tcha?"
"I am, yes," Thrall said warily. "What of it?"
"Ain'tchoo supposed ta be wearin' armour?"
Thrall and Jaina exchanged a look, and unexpectedly, burst into laughter, though it was tinged with hysteria.
"Armour ain't no laughin' manner," the drunk said indignantly. "Not when it got all them spikes."
Impossibly, they laughed harder.
~ * ~
"Their lair must be somewhere here," Jaina said, pointing to the map. Thrall bent his head closer a little, admiring the detail on it. One of Jaina's hands pinned her robe closed while the other traced a line along the southern mountains. "The area wasn't well scouted, because we thought it would be hard to defend, and we mostly wanted to know where the ogres would be anyway."
Thrall nodded and frowned, tapping the mark representing the Stonemaul mound. "That's what the dragons were supposed to have destroyed. I believe there's a nest of caves nearby."
"Could they be interested in what's in those caves?" Jaina wondered. She sat up, and reached carefully for a short, pointed stick. She delicately poked it into a chunk of a banana, and dipped it into a pot of melted chocolate. She popped it into her mouth as she considered. "You know. It could be that they're looking for something. There are all kinds of things under the earth. Prospector Khazgorm tells me there are a number of fascinating artifacts in the southern Barrens."
"You know, their presence upsets the tauren a great deal," Thrall pointed out, though he kept his tone light. Holding his own short, pointed stick, he acquired a chunk of a strawberry, and ate it with great relish. "Mm."
"I do know, unfortunately," Jaina said, her tone apologetic. "The tauren believe it upsets the Earthmother, but the dwarves have strong evidence that they're from the earth itself, and that it's right for them to be digging and tunneling. It's hard to say who's right and who's wrong."
"It's true," Thrall admitted. "Fortunately, that part of the Barrens is mostly unoccupied. I hear some grumbling, but we mostly worry about the Quillboar."
"Fortunately, I don't deal with them, I mostly worry about murlocs," Jaina said. She picked up a mug, sipped her hot chocolate thoughtfully. "Disunity."
"I beg your pardon?" Thrall replied, giving her a curious look.
"This is about disunity," Jaina repeated. "Each of these groups is dividing a group of people, and in doing so, forces people to deal with smaller, individual threats. If I were this mystery lady, I'd take advantage of it to push my own agenda as far as I could while they were still distracted. My enemies wouldn't see it coming."
"You wouldn't do that in the first place, though," Thrall remarked absently, and retrieved another strawberry. "Your reasoning is sound. We need to fight this, and that means presenting her with a unified front."
"And that means solving all of this." Jaina sighed softly. "I've sent scouts to look for Reethe's men, but they could be anywhere."
"They could be at Lost Point Tower," Thrall pointed out.
"That's where I found them," Jaina argued. "It would be madness to go back to where they were caught."
"You assume sanity."
"That's a good point," Jaina agreed. "Catching them is a poor option... they'll just escape. Poor Alliston... he's been sweating the past few days."
"He's as blameless as we can find him to be," Thrall said, shaking his head. "But I suppose a good man feels guilt."
"I wish he wouldn't, it makes it hard to get him to work, and we need all the good men we can get, considering how many of them may be corrupt." Jaina sighed softly, and Thrall patted her hand in sympathy, the rush of chocolate making him less cautious. The past three days had uncovered a corruption that ran deep as a number of deserters had not been as vocal or obvious as Reethe, but instead had undermined Jaina's efforts.
"You're still supported by the majority," Thrall encouraged, and hesitantly added, "like your young chamberlain. She seems friendly and open-minded, particularly with one of our scouts--"
Jaina's stick fell out of her hand with a clatter. "Ariana? She's very kind. Both of her brothers and her father served at Hyjal and survived, by some miracle." She bent to retrieve her stick, and Thrall frowned, even as he let his eyes slide past the part of her neck and shoulders that weren't quite covered by her lounging robe.
"Is something wrong?" he asked quietly. "You seem nervous, and... I did overhear some of their conversation. I wasn't aware that any of my people had married a human."
Jaina's intake of breath was sharp. "How did you--"
"The spirits, though I'll admit it was by accident. I was meditating when I overheard them. Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't they? I've been visiting you regularly and none of you said a word."
"Thrall, I..." Jaina began, and licked her lips, toying with the stick. "They asked me to keep it a secret when they asked for my blessing. They knew that even now, most people don't accept humans and orcs being anything other than enemies, or tentative allies. Love... is unheard of. For some, there's too much violence between our people to even consider it." She lowered her voice, and Thrall could barely hear her. "It happens anyway. They're happy, even if they're apart a lot, and they have to hide what they share."
"So it doesn't bother you?" Thrall asked hesitantly, trying not to sound like he was hopeful, but something must have come through. Jaina raised an eyebrow and laughed shortly.
"Not at all," she replied. "More people need to be happy. Does it bother you?"
"No," Thrall replied honestly. "I admire the fact that they have such a strong relationship that it's overcome difficulties both obvious and not." Like anatomy-- He gave himself a strong, mental shake. "We've become distracted."
"We have," Jaina said lightly, seeming to relax. "I think I'd like to investigate Lost Point Tower more thoroughly, and more subtly. If Reethe's men really have gone back to it, that woman might return and then I can find out who she really is."
"That's dangerous, particularly if there are more of Reethe's men there," Thrall objected. "At least going by yourself. Bring more men--"
"She probably won't come at all, and even if she did, she wouldn't fail to notice so many people," Jaina argued. "I can protect myself. I did it before--"
"We don't know what this woman is capable of," Thrall replied. "You need to be careful. Promise me that you won't do anything foolish--" The communication stone warmed against this thigh, and he sighed, taking it out and thumbing it on. "Yes? Speak quickly, I'm in the middle of another meeting."
"Your meeting with Magatha Grimtotem has been arranged, Warchief," Shandel'zare said. "And the agent you wished to be present is also available. It's tomorrow morning."
"I'll be ready," Thrall said wearily. "Thank you."
"Lok'tar ogar, Warchief," Shandel'zare replied, and the stone cooled.
"Do you think she knows more?" Jaina asked curiously, and Thrall nodded.
"That's what I hope," Thrall said. "It's difficult to say, but I hope I can discern if she's lying. The Crone is difficult to deal with from my understanding, and most fear her."
"Good luck," Jaina said honestly. "The fondue is cooling."
"That will never do, there are still more strawberries," Thrall remarked, and reached for another. Jaina smiled warmly at him, and later, when he went to bed, his mind buzzed from the chocolate, and realized that Jaina never had answered him.
Chapter 7
Title: Unity
Part: 6 of ? (I have no idea. They won't stop talking)
Word Count: 3475 (of this part)
Warnings: Implied sex, actual sex, orc/human, mentioned death and suicide, angst. Angst, violence and drama.
Pairings: Mentioned Thrall/Others, primarily Thrall/Jaina. Mentioned past Arthas/Jaina and past one-sided Kael/Jaina.
Summary: The conspiracy twists deeper, and there is a very important meeting with melted chocolate and fruit.
Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5
"I apologize, Lady Proudmoore," Doctor Gustaf VanHowzen said, pressing a bandage to his arm. "I'm no soldier, I couldn't hold them off."
"It's not your fault," Jaina assured him. "Thrall..."
"Let me see," Thrall said, and reluctantly, the human doctor released his death grip on the bandage, giving Thrall a moment to get a peek at the deep wound. He gave him a look of sympathy, and let his fingers rest on either side of the wound. He called on the elements to bring healing to this brave man, and VanHowzen hissed softly as the wound began to knit closed. "You'll still need to wear a bandage, but--"
"It won't get an infection, and it will heal faster," VanHowzen finished. "Thank you, er, Warchief. I've been in the acquaintance of a number of healers, though I'm not one myself. Lady Proudmoore, what did they want?"
"Evidence," Jaina said grimly. "I should have searched Reethe sooner, or maybe even his body was damning enough. There's a conspiracy at work, Gustaf. There are traitors and I need to deal with them. Did you find anything before they took the body?"
"I found some papers I couldn't read, but they had a seal on them like the symbol you described," VanHowzen replied, and reached up to wipe the brow of his rapidly balding head. "Strangest language I've ever seen."
"Do you still have them?" Jaina asked eagerly. "They might not have--"
"They destroyed my office, Lady Proudmoore," the doctor replied, sighing heavily. "All of my patient records -- including yours -- are gone. I'll have to start from scratch, they even destroyed the archive."
Jaina glanced, almost nervously, over at Thrall, and he raised an eyebrow in reply. "Well, I'm sure you'll manage it, but I'll understand if you don't hurry. You need to take care of yourself. Is there anything at all left?"
"No, I'm sorry," VanHowzen replied, sighing again. "They even took the chunks of that Sc-- Forsaken that you brought in, but I don't even think we had the whole body. It seemed like it was missing too much."
"I couldn't get the arm away from Snowsong," Thrall murmured, only mildly sheepish. "She earned it."
"Did you see what they looked like, at least?" Jaina asked gently, distracting the doctor from the rather horrified look he was giving Thrall.
"I saw masks, my Lady, and dark clothes. They were well-disguised." He shook his head. "It was strange, though, to wear such dark clothes and such bright red masks. Seemed besides the point."
Jaina went still, and Thrall watched her. "Jaina, what is it?"
"Gustaf, I want you to report to the healers." The older man opened his mouth to protest and she lifted a hand. "No, don't argue. You need to be taken care of. Your assistants can clean up the mess. Warchief Thrall and I are going to investigate this further. This is getting out of hand if trouble is being brought within these walls."
"Jaina," Thrall said softly.
"Not here," Jaina replied inaudibly. "My office."
Thrall nodded once, and Jaina patted the doctor's shoulder. VanHowzen gave Jaina a long look, then Thrall, and it rather disturbingly resembled something his advisors would have given him. Jaina stood up, taking one last look around the morgue, and crooked her finger slightly at Thrall. He followed obligingly, and blue runes floated around them as Jaina completed her spell.
"What is it?" Thrall asked. "This is upsetting, but his description of the assailants bothered you." Jaina was silent, and she moved over to her desk. She gripped it, her knuckles going white, and emotion played across her face, going from upset, to angry, to disturbed, and back again. Thrall moved to her side, and gently, reminding himself that he was not to act in a way that was inappropriate for friends, took her hands, and encouraged them to relax. "Tell me."
"You must not use this," Jaina whispered. "I know you have spies in Theramore. I have spies in Orgrimmar. We know that our friendship cannot ever exclude politics."
Thrall stiffened slightly, but nodded. "No, Jaina, I won't use what you tell me."
She nodded, paused, and then nodded again. "Let me show you," she said, and took her hands from his, but Thrall thought there was hesitation there, though the reluctance could have been anything.
Focus, he told himself sternly. Now is not the time.
Jaina reached under her robes, and unlike the last pendant she wore, this one was simply a key. She undid the clasp, and made an arcane sign over the key, and Thrall watched in fascination as the key's shape altered, and then she reached down, pushing it into the lock of the bottommost left drawer. She turned the key, and opened the drawer, which was deeper than it looked, for reasons that Thrall could only assume were magical. Jaina lifted a small stack of papers, tied with a red ribbon out of the drawer, and slid the drawer closed again, locking it once more.
"These are letters I've received from Stormwind," Jaina said, her voice holding a hint of worry and fear. She slid the ribbon off of the pile, and opened the first one. "In them, they mention a problem they've had. Stormwind's rebuilding project was actually started before the true end of the Second War. Believing that the Dark Portal would never open again, Stormwind's king, Varian Wrynn, returned there to start rebuilding the city, though that was delayed when Stormwind was raided for the Tome of Medivh by first the remains of the Perenolde house and then the old Horde's Death Knights. Eventually, though, the city was proven to be truly safe, and Varian commissioned a staggering number of architects and artisans to bring his capital back to its former glory."
Thrall nodded, and a sense of unease grew within him. He knew quite well who Varian Wrynn was -- there was little Garona truly regretted, and he'd seen her kill more than her share of men without hesitation, but Llane Wrynn's death haunted her still -- and he didn't like where this might be going.
"The Stonemason's guild was, at that time, led by a man named Edwin VanCleef. His father was also a stone mason, though not as well known, and Edwin was a brilliant architect. He managed to restore Stormwind, and make it better. The canals alone are a work of art. When it was done, he submitted a bill."
"This doesn't sound like it's a problem," Thrall said. "I have no doubt it was very expensive. Our debts are not insubstantial due to the construction of Orgrimmar. I believe it bothers some of my advisors to consider budgeting within our meetings."
"Varian and his council refused to pay it."
Thrall stared at her. "What? Why?"
"I don't know," Jaina whispered. "I really don't. I thought Varian was smarter than that -- we're not close friends, but I knew him well enough, or so I thought. The official claim was that VanCleef and his employees were to have done it for free, in the name of patriotism." Thrall was silent, and Jaina nodded. "I know what you're thinking, and I agree. I think it's stupid too. It gets worse. VanCleef started a riot, and a lot of people died. Varian threw VanCleef and the Stonemasons that supported him out of Stormwind with nothing. The reports in the letters indicate that they formed a group of bandits calling themselves the Defias Brotherhood. Most of what's in those letters details their crimes to date. No one knows where they're based, but they believe it's somewhere in Westfall."
"I'm not sure what this has to do with--"
"Read the letters, Thrall," Jaina whispered. "Just... do it."
Thrall frowned, but nodded, and picked up the letters. He found himself genuinely appalled by the arrogance at some of it, but there were hints of something else as well: instability and grief. He made a mental note to ask Jaina about it, and continued to read. "There are descriptions of what the Defias use as their calling..." He paused. "Red bandit masks. It's distinctive."
"Yes," Jaina whispered. "No other criminal organization disguises themselves that boldly. If Gustaf saw them, it must mean that the Defias, along with the Grimtotem, some of the Forsaken, and this woman are all connected."
"What do they gain from this?" Thrall asked. "You aren't on the best terms with the other human nations."
"No, I'm not," Jaina sighed. "And Varian holds grudges deeply and bitterly. I'm concerned that the Defias being present here will bring Stormwind's army to Kalimdor... and they will not like what they find."
"Jaina..." Thrall whispered, reaching for her hand, and she took it, squeezing his fingers tightly.
"I can handle Varian," she said. "But if I can't investigate this further, you must. Please. Justice must be served."
"You can't offer yourself as a sacrifice," Thrall objected. "None of this is your fault."
"Nothing so dramatic," Jaina replied softly. "But I still answer to the Alliance. I can distract Varian from any march he may make into Kalimdor, but I won't be able to leave Theramore. This is only a precaution. It doesn't have to come now, it could come in a year's time, or two."
"You'll always have sanctuary with me," Thrall said, and instantly regretted his wording, but plowed on: "I won't allow one of my allies to be harmed. Come to Orgrimmar and you'll be safe."
"Thrall, I..." Jaina began, and tears swelled in her eyes, and Thrall watched her blink them away rapidly. She leaned over, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, her lips warm against his skin.
Don't... don't... he warned himself. "I mean it."
"I know you do," Jaina replied, and quickly wiped at her eyes. "Thank you."
"Now, this connection with the Defias leaves us exactly... where?"
"There's a connection between at least some of the conspiracies," Jaina said, sniffling slightly. "The deserters here don't believe we should be allied with the Horde, and I'd imagine many don't even want to be in Kalimdor."
"The Grimtotem believe that the tauren should leave the Horde, and that it was a mistake to join at all," Thrall added. "And the Forsaken hate the Scourge and fear the living."
"Living that are still citizens of Lordaeron," Jaina murmured. "The Defias, if they're involved at all, would hate Varian and his council, and may very well hate the citizen of Azeroth in general."
"From the sounds of their raids, they do, if they're attacking farmers," Thrall growled. "So that leaves this woman, and the dragons. I doubt they could possibly have let her live in their land unmolested. They drove out the Stonemaul clan."
"It could be that the dragons are controlling this woman and using her by proxy," Jaina offered. "There are all kinds of horror stories about the magic dragons can wield."
"My understanding of the dragons used by the old Horde is that they were very... straightforward in their methods of destruction." Jaina flinched, but nodded. "We need to find out who this woman is."
"I can try to interrogate the prisoners," Jaina said. She carefully folded and resealed the letters, returning them to their hiding spot. "They might know something. At this point, even a nickname might do."
"I'll go with you," Thrall said. "I've been known to be intimidating, from time to time."
"Only to those who don't know you," Jaina murmured, almost inaudible. "Alright, let's go."
Thrall tried not to smile, and waited for Jaina to cast another teleportation spell. This one brought them to Theramore's Keep. Outside, there were several people shouting loudly.
"No, I said--"
"--you didn't, Sergeant Alliston said--"
"--he's on leave, don't even try--"
"Gentlemen," Jaina said loudly, and the soldiers immediately stood at attention.
"Lady Proudmoore, we didn't see--"
"Me here, because you were too busy arguing. What's going on?" Jaina gave them both a stern look, nipping any excuses they may have tried to make in the bud.
"Well, Roland here said that Sergeant Alliston ordered him to move some prisoners," the first one said. "But Alliston is on leave because he's having -- his wife, that is -- is having a baby, and he wants to be there."
"I swear it was him," the second insisted. "Came right up to me, he did, and said that the prisoners from your Ladyship's raid of Lost Point Tower needed to be moved--"
"No," Jaina whispered and ran past them. "No!"
"Jaina..." Thrall called, and ran after her, leaving both soldiers to stare in utter bewilderment. It wasn't difficult to find the holding areas. There was only one other person there, and a cursory glance -- and sniff -- seemed to indicate that he was arrested for overindulgence rather than dangerous criminal activity. A much larger cell was totally empty, though it had not been unoccupied long. "Jaina?"
"They're gone," Jaina cried in frustration. "They could have known something, and they're gone!"
"This could go even deeper than we thought, if someone can fake orders to your own me--"
Jaina screamed wordlessly, in anger, frustration and misery, and Thrall couldn't help but flinch at the sound as it echoed, startling the drunk out of his stupor.
"Y'mind keeping it down?" the man slurred without opening his eyes. "You're as bad as them that came in here. Yammerin' on and on about how they was gonna die, and how Lady On-yee or something was gonna kill 'em."
Thrall froze, and looked towards the drunk. "Lady what?"
"On-yee," the man mumbled. "Somethin' like that. Somethin' like black."
"Onyx," Jaina muttered. "There are black dragons in Dustwallow, and there is another possible connection between them and this mystery woman."
"Dragons? Whare?!" the man sat up with a start, banging his head on the bars, and then, bleary-eyed, looked at Thrall. "Youse is an orc, ain'tcha?"
"I am, yes," Thrall said warily. "What of it?"
"Ain'tchoo supposed ta be wearin' armour?"
Thrall and Jaina exchanged a look, and unexpectedly, burst into laughter, though it was tinged with hysteria.
"Armour ain't no laughin' manner," the drunk said indignantly. "Not when it got all them spikes."
Impossibly, they laughed harder.
~ * ~
"Their lair must be somewhere here," Jaina said, pointing to the map. Thrall bent his head closer a little, admiring the detail on it. One of Jaina's hands pinned her robe closed while the other traced a line along the southern mountains. "The area wasn't well scouted, because we thought it would be hard to defend, and we mostly wanted to know where the ogres would be anyway."
Thrall nodded and frowned, tapping the mark representing the Stonemaul mound. "That's what the dragons were supposed to have destroyed. I believe there's a nest of caves nearby."
"Could they be interested in what's in those caves?" Jaina wondered. She sat up, and reached carefully for a short, pointed stick. She delicately poked it into a chunk of a banana, and dipped it into a pot of melted chocolate. She popped it into her mouth as she considered. "You know. It could be that they're looking for something. There are all kinds of things under the earth. Prospector Khazgorm tells me there are a number of fascinating artifacts in the southern Barrens."
"You know, their presence upsets the tauren a great deal," Thrall pointed out, though he kept his tone light. Holding his own short, pointed stick, he acquired a chunk of a strawberry, and ate it with great relish. "Mm."
"I do know, unfortunately," Jaina said, her tone apologetic. "The tauren believe it upsets the Earthmother, but the dwarves have strong evidence that they're from the earth itself, and that it's right for them to be digging and tunneling. It's hard to say who's right and who's wrong."
"It's true," Thrall admitted. "Fortunately, that part of the Barrens is mostly unoccupied. I hear some grumbling, but we mostly worry about the Quillboar."
"Fortunately, I don't deal with them, I mostly worry about murlocs," Jaina said. She picked up a mug, sipped her hot chocolate thoughtfully. "Disunity."
"I beg your pardon?" Thrall replied, giving her a curious look.
"This is about disunity," Jaina repeated. "Each of these groups is dividing a group of people, and in doing so, forces people to deal with smaller, individual threats. If I were this mystery lady, I'd take advantage of it to push my own agenda as far as I could while they were still distracted. My enemies wouldn't see it coming."
"You wouldn't do that in the first place, though," Thrall remarked absently, and retrieved another strawberry. "Your reasoning is sound. We need to fight this, and that means presenting her with a unified front."
"And that means solving all of this." Jaina sighed softly. "I've sent scouts to look for Reethe's men, but they could be anywhere."
"They could be at Lost Point Tower," Thrall pointed out.
"That's where I found them," Jaina argued. "It would be madness to go back to where they were caught."
"You assume sanity."
"That's a good point," Jaina agreed. "Catching them is a poor option... they'll just escape. Poor Alliston... he's been sweating the past few days."
"He's as blameless as we can find him to be," Thrall said, shaking his head. "But I suppose a good man feels guilt."
"I wish he wouldn't, it makes it hard to get him to work, and we need all the good men we can get, considering how many of them may be corrupt." Jaina sighed softly, and Thrall patted her hand in sympathy, the rush of chocolate making him less cautious. The past three days had uncovered a corruption that ran deep as a number of deserters had not been as vocal or obvious as Reethe, but instead had undermined Jaina's efforts.
"You're still supported by the majority," Thrall encouraged, and hesitantly added, "like your young chamberlain. She seems friendly and open-minded, particularly with one of our scouts--"
Jaina's stick fell out of her hand with a clatter. "Ariana? She's very kind. Both of her brothers and her father served at Hyjal and survived, by some miracle." She bent to retrieve her stick, and Thrall frowned, even as he let his eyes slide past the part of her neck and shoulders that weren't quite covered by her lounging robe.
"Is something wrong?" he asked quietly. "You seem nervous, and... I did overhear some of their conversation. I wasn't aware that any of my people had married a human."
Jaina's intake of breath was sharp. "How did you--"
"The spirits, though I'll admit it was by accident. I was meditating when I overheard them. Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't they? I've been visiting you regularly and none of you said a word."
"Thrall, I..." Jaina began, and licked her lips, toying with the stick. "They asked me to keep it a secret when they asked for my blessing. They knew that even now, most people don't accept humans and orcs being anything other than enemies, or tentative allies. Love... is unheard of. For some, there's too much violence between our people to even consider it." She lowered her voice, and Thrall could barely hear her. "It happens anyway. They're happy, even if they're apart a lot, and they have to hide what they share."
"So it doesn't bother you?" Thrall asked hesitantly, trying not to sound like he was hopeful, but something must have come through. Jaina raised an eyebrow and laughed shortly.
"Not at all," she replied. "More people need to be happy. Does it bother you?"
"No," Thrall replied honestly. "I admire the fact that they have such a strong relationship that it's overcome difficulties both obvious and not." Like anatomy-- He gave himself a strong, mental shake. "We've become distracted."
"We have," Jaina said lightly, seeming to relax. "I think I'd like to investigate Lost Point Tower more thoroughly, and more subtly. If Reethe's men really have gone back to it, that woman might return and then I can find out who she really is."
"That's dangerous, particularly if there are more of Reethe's men there," Thrall objected. "At least going by yourself. Bring more men--"
"She probably won't come at all, and even if she did, she wouldn't fail to notice so many people," Jaina argued. "I can protect myself. I did it before--"
"We don't know what this woman is capable of," Thrall replied. "You need to be careful. Promise me that you won't do anything foolish--" The communication stone warmed against this thigh, and he sighed, taking it out and thumbing it on. "Yes? Speak quickly, I'm in the middle of another meeting."
"Your meeting with Magatha Grimtotem has been arranged, Warchief," Shandel'zare said. "And the agent you wished to be present is also available. It's tomorrow morning."
"I'll be ready," Thrall said wearily. "Thank you."
"Lok'tar ogar, Warchief," Shandel'zare replied, and the stone cooled.
"Do you think she knows more?" Jaina asked curiously, and Thrall nodded.
"That's what I hope," Thrall said. "It's difficult to say, but I hope I can discern if she's lying. The Crone is difficult to deal with from my understanding, and most fear her."
"Good luck," Jaina said honestly. "The fondue is cooling."
"That will never do, there are still more strawberries," Thrall remarked, and reached for another. Jaina smiled warmly at him, and later, when he went to bed, his mind buzzed from the chocolate, and realized that Jaina never had answered him.
Chapter 7