Unity - Chapter 9
It's the first chapter of the year, and it's a doozy length-wise, but this should finish this particular arc within the story, and onto the next part. Enjoy! Also, WoWHead is a font of loveliness, and allowed me to bring some very old questlines to life again.
Title: Unity
Part: 9 of ? (I have no idea. They won't stop talking)
Word Count: 6295 (of this part)
Warnings: Implied sex, actual sex, orc/human, mentioned death and suicide, angst. Angst, violence, drama and some tooth-aching sweetness.
Pairings: Mentioned Thrall/Others, primarily Thrall/Jaina. Mentioned past Arthas/Jaina and past one-sided Kael/Jaina.
Summary: The race is on to save Sergra Darkthorn, and the Shadow Council's presence in Orgrimmar's days are numbered.
Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
Once the teleportation spell ended, Thrall was immediately assaulted with the scent of burning. Everything was aflame, from the apothecary shop to the main Inn. Immediately, Thrall called to the spirits for help, and oddly, huge chunks of ice began to fall from the sky, beating down the flames. Thrall turned, and Jaina was concentrating on the blizzard that was extinguishing the fire. He smiled briefly, and turned to the task at hand.
Saurfang charged past him, bellowing a battlecry, and simply began to cleave through them. Thrall paused at the sight, and so did the centaur, their red-tinted brown eyes wide with panic. Eitrigg waded into battle next, twisting and turning, agile despite his age, and striking centaur in the face and chest with his shield, his blade flashing in and out, leaving the centaur to fall to their knees. Thrall's eyes met those of a female centaur, her face and breasts both roughly covered by the same kind of ragged cloth, and her gaze flashed defiance. He smiled at her.
Lifting a hand, he called out to the spirits of the earth, and beneath her, the ground began to rumble and shake. She called out in her language, her fingers twisting and Thrall winced at the thundercloud that formed above his head, but kept concentrating. Lightning struck him twice, raising the hair on his neck before the earth swallowed up his adversary.
The centaur attempted to break and run. Saurfang didn't let them, and momentarily, they were all dispatched. Thrall moved to examine the dead, and frowned. Centaur wore little in the way of clothing, mostly bandoleers, but these ones wore armbands. He traced over the symbol: a golden sword surrounded by flame.
"That's the symbol of the Burning Blade," Eitrigg observed. "I didn't think the Legion employed the centaur."
"I don't believe that they do," Thrall growled. "This was a distraction. We need to find Sergra."
"I think I have an idea," Ak'Zeloth said quietly. "There's red dust on their fur. It's different from the brown dust of the Barrens. There's a place I know that has red dust, but... I don't know why they'd go there."
"Where?" Thrall demanded, turning on him. "Where did they go?"
"Dreadmist Peak," the warlock replied. "It's north of here and not too far. I'd made some observations and reports to my mentor that there was something wrong up there, but nothing ever came of it. The whole top of the mountain is dying."
"Your mentor--" Thrall began, but Jaina's voice cut in.
"It might be worth telling him," she said quietly. Thrall glanced over at her, and she smiled past her strained expression, and Thrall noted she'd nearly single-handedly put out the other fires. "He probably doesn't know."
"Doesn't know what?" Ak'Zeloth asked, looking between the human sorceress and his warchief.
"We have little time," Thrall said, and whistled sharply. "Neeru works for the Shadow Council. He always has."
Az'Keloth's eyes widened. "He said we were working to help the Horde. To understand what controlled us for so long--"
"He lied to you," Jaina said softly. "But you can still help the Horde. Take us there. There is still time."
Az'Keloth nodded once, though his expression was still troubled. "Of course. For the Horde."
"Thrall, if you can scry a location near the Peak, I can teleport us there," Jaina said. Thrall frowned thoughtfully.
"Are you sure? You've expended a great deal of energy--"
"I'm fine," Jaina replied, and he noticed her cheeks had a slight flush to them. "As you said, we should hurry."
He nodded once. There was little time for formality or ceremony, but Jaina created a frozen, reflective surface and he concentrated on the mountain, parting heavy, dust-laden clouds to see the top. A half-dozen Burning Blade agents walked back and forth, patrolling and waiting. Just within the scrying spell, Thrall could see Sergra, bound and gagged. She had been beaten badly, and that was nearly enough to shatter his focus, but Jaina put a hand on his arm, her touch light.
"There. Is that enough?" he murmured, and she nodded.
"They'll take care of this," Jaina said quietly, indicating those within the Crossroads that they had saved. "We must go."
Thrall nodded, and his forces gathered. Jaina cast the spell, and they were away.
~ * ~
The scrying spell hadn't shown him that it was going to be impossible to see. Thrall held a hand up to his eyes, trying to see past the thick, nearly choking smoke. Beside him, he heard faint coughing. He murmured to the spirits of air, speaking around the grit that surrounded them, and then there was clear, sweet air.
"Thank you," Jaina murmured, wiping her mouth carefully. "We'll have to be careful that they don't notice."
"I want them to," Thrall said simply. "Varok. Eitrigg."
"I believe the honour is yours, Warchief," Saurfang said, though there was a warmth to his tone that belied any apparent reluctance. "Go ahead."
"Thank you," Thrall said. Taking in a deep breath, he opened his mouth and... howled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jaina and Ak'Zeloth shiver slightly. He smiled grimly. This was the sound of the Frostwolf, and even before that, it had been the sound of the wolf pack, calling the hunt. It was different from Grom's hell-scream, and different from the raging cries of a frenzied orcish army. No, this was calculated. Planned. Come, you servants of the Legion. Come and face us...
Almost immediately, there was the sound of rushing feet. Saurfang and Eitrigg exchanged a look.
"After you," Eitrigg demurred.
"No, after you," Saurfang growled, drawing his axe again, drawing his thumb across it, and blood dribbled down it.
"I insist," Eitrigg said, and with a deft gesture, Saurfang charged in, bellowing a battlecry.
"Why did he do that?" Jaina asked, her voice soft with awe.
"To make sure worthy blood touched his blade," Thrall explained. "He thinks little of the Legion or its minions."
"Indeed," Eitrigg agreed. "I think little of them myself. I think I've given him a decent enough head start. For the Horde!" The older orc ran into the fray, and together, both warriors faced the Blade's guards, who may not have been more reluctant to fight them if there had been demons here.
"We need to hurry," Thrall said. "Come, Jaina. Ak'Zeloth." Jaina nodded quickly, and moved to follow Thrall. Ak'Zeloth hesitated, watching the Blade's forces fall to axe and sword. "What is it?"
"Did he lie to me all this time?" Ak'Zeloth asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I was nothing until he found me. Even after the Camps, I wasn't wanted. My mother... she did everything she could to keep me safe. The others never understood."
"Thrall..." Jaina murmured, and he put a hand on the young warlock's shoulder.
"Neeru Fireblade is not unlike Aedelas Blackmoore," Thrall said, his voice rough with emotion. "He seems to give, but he only takes. He used you, as Blackmoore used me. Come. I believe we can still learn much from your studies, as unorthodox as they may be, and you will be able to deal with any demonic issues we have."
Ak'Zeloth nodded once, and the young warlock stepped forward. "Their cave shouldn't be far. I've never been further in, there were always too many inside. Now, though, they're distracted." He gave Thrall a wolfish grin, and moved up. As Thrall had seen, Sergra was tied up and gagged, making noises against the binding that was little better than a dirty rag.
Knowing her, she's probably telling them that they'll all die, Thrall thought fondly. He moved quickly over to her, and with careful fingers, removed her gag, and letting his hand linger to offer her the same blessing of sweet air. "Sergra." She sucked in one breath, and then another.
"Thrall," she replied. "What are you doing here?"
"Rescuing you," he said, smiling. "Enjoying Midsummer?"
"I'd bite you if I weren't tied up," Sergra said with rough affection. Thrall knelt, untying her, and she hissed softly. Jaina knelt next to her, and began to rub the feeling into her arms. "This is?"
"Lady Jaina Proudmoore," Thrall said. "Sorceress and leader of Theramore. I believe I've mentioned her."
"I think you have," Sergra said, and studied the human sorceress through narrowed eyes, and Jaina concentrated on her task. Thrall checked his fellow shaman's wounds. "They're summoning a demon."
"Are they?" Thrall replied, his voice dropping to a low growl. "How soon?"
"Any minute now," Sergra sighed. "They used my blood, I couldn't--"
"Thrall, look at this," Jaina murmured, pulling up Sergra's shirt. There was a rough bandage over half of her right side. Thrall put his hand over it, feeling the orc shaman wince.
"How bad is it?" Thrall asked of Sergra, and when she shook her head, he cursed softly. "Jaina. I need you to take her to Orgrimmar immediately. I don't have time to heal her." He offered Sergra his hands, and helped her to her feet. Jaina immediately moved to offer her shoulder, and the orc leaned heavily on her, though the sorceress produced no word of complaint. "If you can come back, please feel free, but I believe you should rest too. You've carried us over half of the Barrens and saved lives. No sensible Warchief would expect you to do more."
"I'll come back as soon as I can," Jaina said, and Thrall resisted the urge to chuckle at the stubborn set to her chin. With her free hand, she carefully drew the arcane teleportation runes in the air.
"Of course," Thrall replied. "Sergra..."
His former lover smiled at him. "So, you've made your choice. It was a wise one."
"What do you--" Thrall began, but was cut off by the chiming of teleportation runes, and both women disappeared. "What did she mean?"
"I couldn't say, Warchief," Ak'Zeloth said, and looked around the cave. "I see no ritual, where could it..."
"Zineth xi nalek rhan Rathorian..."
"What was that?" Thrall asked. The words had made the hair on his neck stand on end, but it was more than that: the words were filthy, tainted somehow, in a language Thrall didn't recognize, and instinctively, felt good that he didn't recognize it.
"It's Demonic," Ak'Zeloth whispered. "Whoever it is, is saying--"
"That there are intruders within the chamber, and to deal with them," said a deep, rumbling voice, and as one, Thrall and Ak'Zeloth turned. The speaker was a fel guard, one of the Burning Legion's shock troops. It towered above them in the entrance to the cave. The demon's gray skin was nearly entirely covered by pointed, intimidating red and black armour, and in one hand he bore a wicked looking sword that curved at the top, and was nearly as tall as Thrall at the shoulder.
"You will, in fact, need to deal with the intruders," Thrall replied, and unslung the Doomhammer. "Ak'Zeloth, do you know what binds him here?"
"I have an idea, but it will take time," the young warlock. The demon looked past Thrall, towards his companion, and its lips twisted into a smile. "You'll need to distract it."
"I believe I can do that." Thrall extended his arm, and lightning began to crackle around the Doomhammer. His grip shifted, and he moved to impose himself between the demon and the warlock. There was a sound not unlike thunder when their weapons met.
The spirits of air helped Thrall. When he'd been a gladiator, there had been no soft whisper on the wind to let him know where a sword might swing down, and the earth had not told him where it was safe to dodge, and warned him of potential missteps.
A rock behind me and to the left... Thrall stepped backwards quickly, around the rock. Cave wall juts out here, when he swings I can duck around it... A shower of sparks as the sword came around, and a chunk of it flew towards the altar, clattering off of the back of the cave. Ak'Zeloth is moving... He was putting his hand on the device.
"Master Neeru?" the young warlock called into the device, and the demon smiled again.
"Ak'Zeloth?" Neeru snapped through the other side. "What is it? Did Rathorian come through? The demon."
"Yes, he's here," Ak'Zeloth replied. "Master, is it true? Do you serve the Shadow Council?"
"What?" Neeru demanded. "Is that what you're using the Demon Seed for? It's a priceless artifact!"
"I want to know," Ak'Zeloth insisted, and Thrall twisted around the demon, crushing a section of its shoulder armour. "I think it's important."
"Of course I do, don't be a fool," Neeru replied crankily. "This new order will fail soon enough. We draw our strength from the Legion, not this elemental foolishness. The demons will win out."
"I see," Ak'Zeloth whispered. "The strength is in our blood."
Thrall gritted his teeth, and swung the Doomhammer hard, and it crashed against the demon's arm. He bellowed, and began to chant in the same, terrible language they'd heard earlier.
"Are you going to stop wasting my time?" Neeru demanded. "I have things to take care of."
"Yes, Master, I'll stop wasting time," Ak'Zeloth replied. Thrall turned again, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ak'Zeloth reach for the rock. He muttered, and in his hand the rock turned red, burning his skin. The young warlock gritted his teeth, and raised it above his head, a dull, reddish tint to his eyes. "Our strength... is in... our blood!" He brought the rock down and it shattered what Neeru had called the Demon Seed.
The demon cried out, and Thrall watched as fel runes appeared along its arms and legs, swirling to bind it. Thrall backed away, and looked over towards the young warlock. Blood trickled down his face, and his eyes burned bright and red.
"No... why..?" the demon gasped out.
"The strength... in our blood... comes from the elements..." Ak'Zeloth forced out, "And our Warchief. Not... from you. Never... from you!" Quickly, he traced fel runes in the air, and Thrall was reminded of Jaina's teleportation spells, though this seemed reversed somehow. "Be... banished... back to the Nether... and tell them... we are not all weak!"
The demon snarled something, and winked out. Ak'Zeloth stood, one hand still out, breathing heavily. Carefully, Thrall moved towards him, and carefully put a hand on his shoulder. Contact seemed to break his resolve, and Ak'Zeloth slumped against him, though Thrall shouldered his weight easily. Thrall moved to heal his cheek, and he saw that what had been bleeding had healed in a scar that moved straight down along his cheek, and with a start, he realized that he had seen these kinds of worn scars before, on Neeru and on some of the others.
This must be the sign of a great working, Thrall thought. It marks them. He shook Ak'Zeloth lightly, and the young warlock moaned. "You did well, but now we need to--"
"Warchief, we have disposed of the Burning Blade here," Saurfang called, and Thrall saw him salute. His weapon was slick with blood, though he himself seemed to be largely uninjured. Quite the opposite: he seemed to be more alive than he usually was.
Politics don't suit a warrior, Thrall thought ruefully, though he noticed that Eitrigg was just as energetic, though he seemed to be more subdued about it. "Did you take prisoners?"
"There are a few," Eitrigg said. "Most of them made it difficult to capture them."
"I'm sure our Spymaster will find something to do with them," Thrall muttered, though he looked down towards the young warlock. "Ak'Zeloth?"
"'m awake, Warchief," he muttered. "'m sorry."
"You did well," Thrall told him. "I have a proposal for you in regards to the advisory council..."
"Why don't you just ask the human, too?" Saurfang muttered, but before Thrall could comment, there was a sound like chiming, and Thrall turned his head towards it.
"Jaina, I--"
"It's good to see you too, Warchief," Shandel'zare replied, giving him an exceptionally stern look, her gaze sweeping over her fellow advisors, and the warlock leaning heavily against Thrall. "I see you've gotten into trouble while I was visiting with my sisters."
"How are Sergra and Jaina?" Thrall asked, ignoring her recrimination. "We'll need to see another healer."
"Sergra is being taken care of by healers," Shandel'zare said. "Lady Proudmoore is with her, and it was felt that she should rest. She's keeping Sergra company."
"That's unfortunate," Eitrigg murmured, and Thrall turned slightly, even as Saurfang dragged one of the Burning Blade agents over to the troll mage.
"Why do you say that?" Thrall asked curiously.
"Think about it," Eitrigg said, grabbing a second Burning Blade agent, slapping him hard, and hauled him to his feet. The agent groaned, and Eitrigg nodded with satisfaction. "You had an intimate relationship with Sergra."
"Yes..." Thrall said, and watched as Shandel'zare began to cast the teleportation spell.
"And now she's speaking to Jaina," Eitrigg continued, and Thrall made a noise in the back of his throat.
I dislike that everyone seems to know my business, and if this is Garona's fault... There was a sound within his mind like a click as something fell into place. "Oh. Damn."
"Indeed, Warchief," Eitrigg said, and the spell completed, taking them all to Orgrimmar.
~ * ~
There it is... the door... Thrall thought apprehensively. The gateway to ultimate humiliation.
"You have to go in some time," Shandel'zare said sternly. "Face your destiny."
"Maybe it won't be so bad," Thrall muttered. He glanced at his advisor briefly, though she offered him no succor. Sighing, he knocked on the door, interrupting a peal of laughter.
"Come in!" Sergra called, and Thrall was pleased to note her volume, despite his trepidation about this, and opened the door. She was laying in bed, bandaged expertly, and there was good colour to her skin. Jaina was perched on a chair, sipping some kind of pungent liquid. She smiled over at Thrall warmly as he looked between the two of them.
"This is your idea of resting?" Thrall asked, his lips twitching and threatening a smile.
"It's very restful, Warchief," Jaina replied, looking up at him with eyes that sparkled mirthfully. "Sergra and I were just discussing you."
"Of that, I have no doubt," Thrall said, his sour tone belying what had to be a smile. His cheeks hurt too much for it to be anything else. "How are you both feeling?"
"Well enough," Sergra said. She let a hand rest on her side, and sighed. "I take it that fighting the minions of the Burning Legion wasn't challenging?"
"Not very, once you'd weakened them all for me," Thrall replied, and moved to sit on the bed. "I'd like you to stay in Orgrimmar for a few days to make sure you recover fully. We can have dinner."
"Just dinner, I'd imagine," Sergra replied lightly, and looked over at Jaina, who concentrated very hard on her mug. "I'd like that."
Thrall began to reply, but there was a look in Sergra's eye. It wasn't anger, or resentment, just a genuine fondness. I'm sure she has the wrong idea about us, that things have progressed further than they actually have, Thrall thought with a touch of exasperation. But Sergra was never one to be argued with... "Jaina, we should let her rest." He leaned forward, and gave Sergra a kiss on the forehead, keeping the gesture platonic, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek in reply. Thrall offered Jaina his arm, and she took it.
Thrall walked with Jaina out of the room, and closed the door behind him, though not before catching the suggestive gesture Sergra was making. He glared at her before closing the door firmly.
"She's very nice, and very knowledgeable," Jaina murmured as they walked. "And she seems fond of you."
"I usually consider her to be a good friend," Thrall replied, though his voice was a low growl. "Usually. I'm concerned that her mental health has been compromised."
"She wanted to know about us," Jaina said quietly, and Thrall shivered slightly. "Thrall, when you were looking for a mate, why didn't you choose her?"
There wasn't silence, but only because Thrall could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Distantly, he could hear the popping sound of fireworks, and realized that it must have been near midnight. Unthinkingly, he let Jaina lead him to his own chambers, and sit him down. Slim hands took the Doomhammer from him and set it aside, then began to unbuckle his armour. As each piece was taken off, a different kind of weight settled onto him.
It's a simple question, he thought as Jaina divested him of the last of it, leaving him in his shirt and pants. I didn't want Sergra to be my mate because something was missing. Just say that. "Jaina..."
"We were talking," she said, and moved to stand in front of him, and reached out to touch his cheek, thumbing over the smooth part of it. "I like her, and she seems nice, but I remember what you said, and what you were afraid of. Did you ever tell her?"
"I... no," Thrall admitted. "I should have, I just... didn't feel comfortable doing so."
"I see," Jaina said, and gave him a half-smile. She leaned down, and kissed him, and one of his hands came around to rest against the small of her back. Her lips moved slowly and carefully against his mouth, and he opened it carefully, making sure his tusks didn't scrape against her tender, human flesh. His thumb stroked over her lower back, and despite the warmth that still lingered, she shivered, moving closer, pressing the curves of her body into his chest, and separate from the summer night's heat, there was a feeling of growing warmth, and his arm tightened around her a little.
The knock on the door shocked them both as Jaina pulled away from him with an audible gasp. Knowing that it would be both uncharitable and an abuse of power to ask the spirits to sweep the person who'd interrupted them away, he cleared his throat. "What is it?"
"I apologize for interrupting your rest," Eitrigg called. "Warchief, there's been an incident in the Cleft of Shadows."
"You should take care of that," Jaina said, her voice soft. Thrall met eyes that glittered with both want and exhaustion, and saw the way her lips parted just so, pinker now from kissing, and nodded once.
"You should rest, you're still worn out," he replied, and stood. He gave her a much gentler kiss when she nodded, and collected his armour. Eitrigg was waiting for him outside the door, and offered no commented.
"The guards that patrol the Cleft of Shadows reported unusual activity from around the time that you left. The reports we collected indicated that there was some kind of disruption or noise by Ragefire Chasm. At the time, Neeru claimed he would take care of the issue. He disappeared into it and never returned." Thrall growled, and Eitrigg nodded. "They think he might be mustering the Searing Blade, since he has been discovered."
"That must be where he was keeping the other half of the Demon Seed." Thrall's expression set with grim determination. "I had planned to let the Shadow Council stew while I hedged in Neeru's power, but the recent developments have caused me to change my mind."
"Hopefully Garona will bring us back useful information about the Shadow Council's leadership," Eitrigg said, and added with slight hesitation, "And that she'll survive the process."
"She's very good at fending for herself," Thrall replied. "And she's aged well. I'm sure she'll be back within the week, complaining about how stupid they all are."
"Doubtless," Eitrigg agreed. "I'll call the Kor'Kron."
Thrall nodded, and watched as a few goblins shouted back and forth to each other across empty crates. "We missed the fireworks, didn't we?" Thrall asked quietly, and Eitrigg nodded.
"We did make an equally impressive display," Eitrigg reminded him. "Particularly Ak'Zeloth."
"Arrange something extra," Thrall said quietly. "On the beach. It's the crowning point of the holiday, after all."
"As you command, Warchief," Eitrigg said, offering him a salute. Thrall nodded once, and listened to Eitrigg with half an ear.
The Searing Blade hides within Ragefire Chasm... that area is unstable enough, and has been a danger since we created Orgrimmar. It was unfortunate that even Rexxar could never secure it. I'm shocked they even took the risk, though I suppose it was very covert-- Thrall stopped walking, and Eitrigg paused.
"Warchief?" the elder orc asked, and Thrall smiled.
"Assemble the Kor'Kron, but don't send them in," Thrall said. "I have a plan. This will take care of the problem quickly and efficiently. You're certain that Neeru is with them?"
"Reasonably so," Eitrigg said, and frowned. "What do you have in mind?"
"Evacuate the Cleft of Shadows," Thrall said. "The judgement of the elements comes."
Eitrigg paused, looking at Thrall, and then moved to do as he was ordered. Thrall walked out of Grommash Hold, and looked over at the likeness of Mannoroth that sat directly outside the entrance. Grom might approve of this plan, reckless as it is. He closed his eyes, and let his senses expand. He could sense Jaina, curled up in bed, resting quietly, drained of much of her power. He could not caress her in such a manner, but his hand made the motion anyway. He continued to seek, moving more towards the stronghold of the Searing Blade, and within it sensed the unstable earth spirits. Already agitated by the actions of the warlocks, it was easy to attract their attention, and to submit to a simple request. All Thrall had to do... was wait.
"The Kor'Kron are assembled, and ready," Eitrigg said, his voice distant as Thrall kept the earth spirits at bay.
"Tell them to wait at the entrances, but not to go near the Chasm," Thrall said. "They'll see why soon enough."
"As you command," Eitrigg said. Thrall could sense Saurfang amongst them, and when they were in place, he offered a single, mental command.
Now.
There was a sound like thunder, but it rolled, long and low. The buildings around them shivered, and people lunged to prevent objects from falling off shelves. There was the sound of glass tinkling as a few things were missed, or considered less valuable than others.
"Warchief, the Chasm is shaking apart! It's going to collapse!" one of the grunts called. Thrall didn't respond, and simply let the earth spirits flow. Stone fell, and sure enough, the entire thing began to collapse in slow motion. There were shouts as those that were fast enough to realize what was happening ran towards the entrance, and High Overlord Varok Saurfang. Thrall could picture his advisor, one hand on his axe, expectant, enough fire behind his eyes to cow even minions of the Legion.
He opened his eyes, and walked towards the Cleft of Shadows, Eitrigg keeping pace with him. When he arrived, Neeru and a handful of others were waiting, surrounded by guards.
"It seems you've flushed out the rats," Saurfang commented. "What do we do with them, Warchief?"
"They are under arrest," Thrall said simply. "For consorting with the forces of the Burning Legion, and the assault and kidnapping of Sergra Darkthorn, member of the Earthen Ring." Thrall smiled slowly, his eyes meeting Neeru's wild, desperate gaze. "Take them away. The spirits will judge them."
~ * ~
"The view from this section of the beach is fantastic," Jaina commented. The large, blue-white moon rested low on the horizon, having just come up, and the light from it illuminated Jaina's hair just enough that Thrall could catch the highlights, and the breeze pushed strands back from her face. Thrall smiled warmly.
"It is an excellent view," Thrall agreed, though his eyes were not on the ocean. The moon reminded him of the Night Elves' belief in the goddess Elune, and that led him into thoughts of Orgrimmar's other guests. "You spent quite a bit of time in conference with Tyrande today. Was she suitably entertained during yesterday's adventures?"
Jaina nodded slightly. "Your people were good to her and the other guests. They were happy, but worried since we both disappeared so abruptly. I explained the situation."
"What did they say?" Thrall asked, offering Jaina his arm. When she took it, he guided her down the beach, walking at a leisurely pace.
"They don't approve of fel magic or warlocks, of course, but they think you handled it well, and Tyrande said that in some ways, Ak'Zeloth reminded her of Illidan." She smiled, and shook her head. "I can't imagine it. Everything I've heard about Illidan makes him seem very different."
"Ten thousand years in jail might do that to a person," Thrall commented. "I believe that Ak'Zeloth will be an asset to the council." He moved his free hand to pat hers. "Did you know Neeru tried to get onto the council for months?"
"He must have wanted inside information for the Shadow Council," Jaina noted, smiling up at him. "The understanding I was given by some of your advisors was that you were trying to keep an eye on the known Shadow Council members, but that must not be possible considering the unfortunate accident with the Ragefire Chasm."
"Indeed, it was unfortunate, and I hope it didn't disturb you when you were sleeping," Thrall replied lightly. "We had a vermin problem that needed solving."
"Nothing too serious, I hope," Jaina asked, her tone equally light.
"Not at all, and I think we've solved it for good," Thrall replied, and Jaina gasped, though not at his words. On the beach sat a pair of chairs, designed to be reclined on in the sun, sitting in just the right spot to watch something over the ocean, and in the distance, there was the silhouette of a small barge. There was the faint sound of angry goblins, arguing over explosive yield. "What do you think?"
"I can't believe it," Jaina murmured. "Particularly not on such short notice."
"It wasn't fair that I invited you here for Midsummer and you missed the best part," Thrall replied gently, reaching to touch her cheek lightly. "I made a few arrangements. Would you like to watch the Midsummer fireworks with me, Lady Proudmoore?" he asked, his tone mock-formal.
"Warchief Thrall, I would be honoured," Jaina replied with the same kind of tone. She moved to sit in the chair, and he sat next to her, though his chair creaked slightly ominously. "If it breaks, I think there's a blanket here," she said.
"Hopefully it won't," Thrall replied, and put an arm around her. She settled against his side, listening to the waves lap against the shore, and the intermittent rantings of goblins. Thrall made a gesture, and a spark rose from his hand, arcing up, over them.
"Got it, boss!" one of the goblins cried, and after a few moments, the display started. Thrall watched them, only partly interested in them, despite their bright colours and loud noises. Instead, he watched Jaina's expression flicker in the coloured firelight. Blues, greens, reds and golds reflected on her hair, and after a moment, he tilted her chin upwards. He leaned in to kiss her, and there was the sound of something hitting the water. He felt her pull back, and he looked out towards the ocean.
"Do you need help?" he asked, though his tone was somewhat irate, even to his own ears.
"That's comin' out of your pay!" they heard from the barge. "The show will go on, boss. Keep watchin'!"
"They're very resilient," Jaina murmured, and Thrall nodded, returning to the task at hand. He thumbed over her cheek, and leaned in once again.
"They are," Thrall agreed. "Joyous Midsummer, Jaina."
"Joyous Midsummer, Thrall," she murmured before their lips met, and the next fireworks explosion made hardly any sound at all.
~ * ~
"So, the Shadow Council's influence is gone from Orgrimmar?" Jaina asked, and Thrall smiled, though she couldn't see him through the communication crystal. Around him, people went about their business in Grommash Hold, particularly his advisors, though Shandel'zare had disappeared some time earlier. She had said nothing, and he simply assumed that she would tell him when she was ready, and no sooner.
"That's the intention, though whether or not that's true is hard to say," Thrall replied. "It seems as though Neeru was bad at being subtle. Why he didn't think I'd notice his plans sooner, I'll never know."
"Unfortunately for him, he underestimated you," Jaina said. "Have you had a chance to look over the new fishing treaty? I revised the old one, and I think this will work out better for both Theramore and Durotar."
"I must admit, I haven't had the chance--"
"Warchief," Shandel'zare said crisply. "I require your assistance."
Thrall looked up, frowning, though that expression immediately shifted to concern. Garona leaned heavily against the troll mage and orc warlock that supported her, and around his new scars, Az'Keloth looked worried. "Jaina, something has come up. We'll speak again later."
"Of course," Jaina replied, and the magic within the crystal faded. Immediately, Thrall stood.
"What happened?" Thrall demanded. "Garona."
The half-orc Spymistress gave him a look that would have been smug had it not been clouded with pain. "I found the Shadow Council."
"You need a healer," Thrall said, and moved to her side. Shandel'zare made a harsh noise in the back of her throat, and she and Az'Keloth started walking, bringing Garona to a private chamber to be healed. "If we could have some privacy?"
"Come, young one," Shandel'zare said, jerking her head. "Leave them to this."
"Is that really her?" Az'Keloth demanded. "The Garona Halforcen?"
"If there's more than one of me, we're all in trouble," Garona said wearily. "Go away."
Az'Keloth, being young but not unwise, left. Shandel'zare snorted and followed, leaving the two of them alone.
"That was unnecessary," Thrall chided her. "He's new, and young." He gestured. "Take them off."
"This is payback for all the times I've walked into your room while you're naked, isn't it?" Garona asked, though she undid the belt of her pants, and hissed as she let them fall. Thrall made a similar noise, though in sympathy rather than pain: long, thin pieces of wood had driven their way into her skin, and the exposed ends were stained with the half-orc's blood.
"Nothing of the kind," Thrall told her, and knelt. He drew on the spirits of water, those that soothed hurts and used the natural fluids in the body -- blood and water -- to help ease each splinter out. The spirits guided his fingers to remove each one, whole, though after the first, Garona dug her fingers into Thrall's shoulders rather than cry out to express the pain she had to have been in. "What did you find?"
"The Shadow Council created a base in a place they call Jaedenar," Garona began, speaking haltingly as Thrall worked. "They've taken over a few elven Barrow Dens, and filled them with demons and their followers. I couldn't get in far, but I found a good place for the scrying beacon. We'll be able to move on them properly soon, and it looks like an organization called the Emerald Circle is interested in dealing with them. They've already sent in a couple of agents, but we can get to them first if we try. Consider it a Summer project. I saw Gruuk, too."
"Gruuk?" Thrall asked absently, working carefully, though his fingers were slick with Garona's blood.
"Or whatever his real name is," Garona said, snorting softly. "Because Fel'dan isn't it."
"Why not?" Thrall asked, and Garona snorted again.
"Honestly, Fel'dan? Why didn't he just call himself Chieftain Evul Muk'Dhark'Bhad and get it over with?" Her fingers tightened, and Thrall winced.
"You're very touchy when you're having six inch splinters pulled out of your thigh," he pointed out. "I'm almost done."
"Not all of us spent Midsummer having sex and watching fireworks, Warchief," she retorted. "Did you have fun, by the way?"
"That's a half truth," Thrall replied lightly. "Though the fireworks were very nice."
"I have no doubt," Garona mocked. "Why is there a warlock in Grommash Hold that isn't being used as a decorative fixture, and what happened to the middle of the city?"
"I wouldn't use a warlock, they smell bad," Thrall commented, and put his hand on her leg. He drew on the healing within Garona's body, and the aid of the spirits to speed it along. She hissed softly. "We simply had some issues with the Shadow Council's lower status minions. It's been taken care of."
"Did I miss Neeru's execution?" Garona demanded. "If so, I'll put scorpions in your bed. I wanted to see that."
"I waited just for you," Thrall replied. "What happened to your leg?"
"When I was getting out, I had to move through an area that was exceptionally unstable," Garona said, sighing slightly in relief. She carefully put pressure on her leg, and Thrall turned to clean his hands and then sponge the blood off of her leg. "There were some old, half-insane Kaldorei ancients, and one of them exploded right in front of me."
"This is why I told you to bring a crystal, and I was right," Thrall said, cleaning her newly healed wounds. "You said you wouldn't need it."
"There is no possible way you foresaw a tree exploding on me," Garona snorted. "You're not a prophet."
"I'm a seer," Thrall replied with a hint of indignant hurt in his tone. "I have visions."
"Mostly when the Old Man whispers in your ear," Garona replied, though she patted his shoulder. "In this case, you were right. I'm going to need new pants."
"I'm sure Jes'rimmon can bring you something," Thrall replied, wrapping her thigh tightly in a bandage, and securing it with a hint of magic. "Why don't you take my visions at face value?"
"I know better," Garona retorted. "Besides, if you actually could see the future reliably, you'd have seen your future mate and heir, and then there would be no surprise."
"That's not how it works," Thrall replied stiffly, though Garona's joking tone had caused something to lurch within him uncomfortably. Could I see who is in my future, assuming the spirits didn't simply laugh at me for being simple? If they could... do I want to see the result?
Garona moved around him stiffly, finding a blanket to make a rough kilt around her bare legs. "Thrall."
"Yes?" he answered after a moment.
"You still didn't tell me why there's a warlock in the Hold."
Thrall sighed, and decided to explain it to her before she became totally unbearable.
Chapter 10
Title: Unity
Part: 9 of ? (I have no idea. They won't stop talking)
Word Count: 6295 (of this part)
Warnings: Implied sex, actual sex, orc/human, mentioned death and suicide, angst. Angst, violence, drama and some tooth-aching sweetness.
Pairings: Mentioned Thrall/Others, primarily Thrall/Jaina. Mentioned past Arthas/Jaina and past one-sided Kael/Jaina.
Summary: The race is on to save Sergra Darkthorn, and the Shadow Council's presence in Orgrimmar's days are numbered.
Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
Once the teleportation spell ended, Thrall was immediately assaulted with the scent of burning. Everything was aflame, from the apothecary shop to the main Inn. Immediately, Thrall called to the spirits for help, and oddly, huge chunks of ice began to fall from the sky, beating down the flames. Thrall turned, and Jaina was concentrating on the blizzard that was extinguishing the fire. He smiled briefly, and turned to the task at hand.
Saurfang charged past him, bellowing a battlecry, and simply began to cleave through them. Thrall paused at the sight, and so did the centaur, their red-tinted brown eyes wide with panic. Eitrigg waded into battle next, twisting and turning, agile despite his age, and striking centaur in the face and chest with his shield, his blade flashing in and out, leaving the centaur to fall to their knees. Thrall's eyes met those of a female centaur, her face and breasts both roughly covered by the same kind of ragged cloth, and her gaze flashed defiance. He smiled at her.
Lifting a hand, he called out to the spirits of the earth, and beneath her, the ground began to rumble and shake. She called out in her language, her fingers twisting and Thrall winced at the thundercloud that formed above his head, but kept concentrating. Lightning struck him twice, raising the hair on his neck before the earth swallowed up his adversary.
The centaur attempted to break and run. Saurfang didn't let them, and momentarily, they were all dispatched. Thrall moved to examine the dead, and frowned. Centaur wore little in the way of clothing, mostly bandoleers, but these ones wore armbands. He traced over the symbol: a golden sword surrounded by flame.
"That's the symbol of the Burning Blade," Eitrigg observed. "I didn't think the Legion employed the centaur."
"I don't believe that they do," Thrall growled. "This was a distraction. We need to find Sergra."
"I think I have an idea," Ak'Zeloth said quietly. "There's red dust on their fur. It's different from the brown dust of the Barrens. There's a place I know that has red dust, but... I don't know why they'd go there."
"Where?" Thrall demanded, turning on him. "Where did they go?"
"Dreadmist Peak," the warlock replied. "It's north of here and not too far. I'd made some observations and reports to my mentor that there was something wrong up there, but nothing ever came of it. The whole top of the mountain is dying."
"Your mentor--" Thrall began, but Jaina's voice cut in.
"It might be worth telling him," she said quietly. Thrall glanced over at her, and she smiled past her strained expression, and Thrall noted she'd nearly single-handedly put out the other fires. "He probably doesn't know."
"Doesn't know what?" Ak'Zeloth asked, looking between the human sorceress and his warchief.
"We have little time," Thrall said, and whistled sharply. "Neeru works for the Shadow Council. He always has."
Az'Keloth's eyes widened. "He said we were working to help the Horde. To understand what controlled us for so long--"
"He lied to you," Jaina said softly. "But you can still help the Horde. Take us there. There is still time."
Az'Keloth nodded once, though his expression was still troubled. "Of course. For the Horde."
"Thrall, if you can scry a location near the Peak, I can teleport us there," Jaina said. Thrall frowned thoughtfully.
"Are you sure? You've expended a great deal of energy--"
"I'm fine," Jaina replied, and he noticed her cheeks had a slight flush to them. "As you said, we should hurry."
He nodded once. There was little time for formality or ceremony, but Jaina created a frozen, reflective surface and he concentrated on the mountain, parting heavy, dust-laden clouds to see the top. A half-dozen Burning Blade agents walked back and forth, patrolling and waiting. Just within the scrying spell, Thrall could see Sergra, bound and gagged. She had been beaten badly, and that was nearly enough to shatter his focus, but Jaina put a hand on his arm, her touch light.
"There. Is that enough?" he murmured, and she nodded.
"They'll take care of this," Jaina said quietly, indicating those within the Crossroads that they had saved. "We must go."
Thrall nodded, and his forces gathered. Jaina cast the spell, and they were away.
~ * ~
The scrying spell hadn't shown him that it was going to be impossible to see. Thrall held a hand up to his eyes, trying to see past the thick, nearly choking smoke. Beside him, he heard faint coughing. He murmured to the spirits of air, speaking around the grit that surrounded them, and then there was clear, sweet air.
"Thank you," Jaina murmured, wiping her mouth carefully. "We'll have to be careful that they don't notice."
"I want them to," Thrall said simply. "Varok. Eitrigg."
"I believe the honour is yours, Warchief," Saurfang said, though there was a warmth to his tone that belied any apparent reluctance. "Go ahead."
"Thank you," Thrall said. Taking in a deep breath, he opened his mouth and... howled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jaina and Ak'Zeloth shiver slightly. He smiled grimly. This was the sound of the Frostwolf, and even before that, it had been the sound of the wolf pack, calling the hunt. It was different from Grom's hell-scream, and different from the raging cries of a frenzied orcish army. No, this was calculated. Planned. Come, you servants of the Legion. Come and face us...
Almost immediately, there was the sound of rushing feet. Saurfang and Eitrigg exchanged a look.
"After you," Eitrigg demurred.
"No, after you," Saurfang growled, drawing his axe again, drawing his thumb across it, and blood dribbled down it.
"I insist," Eitrigg said, and with a deft gesture, Saurfang charged in, bellowing a battlecry.
"Why did he do that?" Jaina asked, her voice soft with awe.
"To make sure worthy blood touched his blade," Thrall explained. "He thinks little of the Legion or its minions."
"Indeed," Eitrigg agreed. "I think little of them myself. I think I've given him a decent enough head start. For the Horde!" The older orc ran into the fray, and together, both warriors faced the Blade's guards, who may not have been more reluctant to fight them if there had been demons here.
"We need to hurry," Thrall said. "Come, Jaina. Ak'Zeloth." Jaina nodded quickly, and moved to follow Thrall. Ak'Zeloth hesitated, watching the Blade's forces fall to axe and sword. "What is it?"
"Did he lie to me all this time?" Ak'Zeloth asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I was nothing until he found me. Even after the Camps, I wasn't wanted. My mother... she did everything she could to keep me safe. The others never understood."
"Thrall..." Jaina murmured, and he put a hand on the young warlock's shoulder.
"Neeru Fireblade is not unlike Aedelas Blackmoore," Thrall said, his voice rough with emotion. "He seems to give, but he only takes. He used you, as Blackmoore used me. Come. I believe we can still learn much from your studies, as unorthodox as they may be, and you will be able to deal with any demonic issues we have."
Ak'Zeloth nodded once, and the young warlock stepped forward. "Their cave shouldn't be far. I've never been further in, there were always too many inside. Now, though, they're distracted." He gave Thrall a wolfish grin, and moved up. As Thrall had seen, Sergra was tied up and gagged, making noises against the binding that was little better than a dirty rag.
Knowing her, she's probably telling them that they'll all die, Thrall thought fondly. He moved quickly over to her, and with careful fingers, removed her gag, and letting his hand linger to offer her the same blessing of sweet air. "Sergra." She sucked in one breath, and then another.
"Thrall," she replied. "What are you doing here?"
"Rescuing you," he said, smiling. "Enjoying Midsummer?"
"I'd bite you if I weren't tied up," Sergra said with rough affection. Thrall knelt, untying her, and she hissed softly. Jaina knelt next to her, and began to rub the feeling into her arms. "This is?"
"Lady Jaina Proudmoore," Thrall said. "Sorceress and leader of Theramore. I believe I've mentioned her."
"I think you have," Sergra said, and studied the human sorceress through narrowed eyes, and Jaina concentrated on her task. Thrall checked his fellow shaman's wounds. "They're summoning a demon."
"Are they?" Thrall replied, his voice dropping to a low growl. "How soon?"
"Any minute now," Sergra sighed. "They used my blood, I couldn't--"
"Thrall, look at this," Jaina murmured, pulling up Sergra's shirt. There was a rough bandage over half of her right side. Thrall put his hand over it, feeling the orc shaman wince.
"How bad is it?" Thrall asked of Sergra, and when she shook her head, he cursed softly. "Jaina. I need you to take her to Orgrimmar immediately. I don't have time to heal her." He offered Sergra his hands, and helped her to her feet. Jaina immediately moved to offer her shoulder, and the orc leaned heavily on her, though the sorceress produced no word of complaint. "If you can come back, please feel free, but I believe you should rest too. You've carried us over half of the Barrens and saved lives. No sensible Warchief would expect you to do more."
"I'll come back as soon as I can," Jaina said, and Thrall resisted the urge to chuckle at the stubborn set to her chin. With her free hand, she carefully drew the arcane teleportation runes in the air.
"Of course," Thrall replied. "Sergra..."
His former lover smiled at him. "So, you've made your choice. It was a wise one."
"What do you--" Thrall began, but was cut off by the chiming of teleportation runes, and both women disappeared. "What did she mean?"
"I couldn't say, Warchief," Ak'Zeloth said, and looked around the cave. "I see no ritual, where could it..."
"Zineth xi nalek rhan Rathorian..."
"What was that?" Thrall asked. The words had made the hair on his neck stand on end, but it was more than that: the words were filthy, tainted somehow, in a language Thrall didn't recognize, and instinctively, felt good that he didn't recognize it.
"It's Demonic," Ak'Zeloth whispered. "Whoever it is, is saying--"
"That there are intruders within the chamber, and to deal with them," said a deep, rumbling voice, and as one, Thrall and Ak'Zeloth turned. The speaker was a fel guard, one of the Burning Legion's shock troops. It towered above them in the entrance to the cave. The demon's gray skin was nearly entirely covered by pointed, intimidating red and black armour, and in one hand he bore a wicked looking sword that curved at the top, and was nearly as tall as Thrall at the shoulder.
"You will, in fact, need to deal with the intruders," Thrall replied, and unslung the Doomhammer. "Ak'Zeloth, do you know what binds him here?"
"I have an idea, but it will take time," the young warlock. The demon looked past Thrall, towards his companion, and its lips twisted into a smile. "You'll need to distract it."
"I believe I can do that." Thrall extended his arm, and lightning began to crackle around the Doomhammer. His grip shifted, and he moved to impose himself between the demon and the warlock. There was a sound not unlike thunder when their weapons met.
The spirits of air helped Thrall. When he'd been a gladiator, there had been no soft whisper on the wind to let him know where a sword might swing down, and the earth had not told him where it was safe to dodge, and warned him of potential missteps.
A rock behind me and to the left... Thrall stepped backwards quickly, around the rock. Cave wall juts out here, when he swings I can duck around it... A shower of sparks as the sword came around, and a chunk of it flew towards the altar, clattering off of the back of the cave. Ak'Zeloth is moving... He was putting his hand on the device.
"Master Neeru?" the young warlock called into the device, and the demon smiled again.
"Ak'Zeloth?" Neeru snapped through the other side. "What is it? Did Rathorian come through? The demon."
"Yes, he's here," Ak'Zeloth replied. "Master, is it true? Do you serve the Shadow Council?"
"What?" Neeru demanded. "Is that what you're using the Demon Seed for? It's a priceless artifact!"
"I want to know," Ak'Zeloth insisted, and Thrall twisted around the demon, crushing a section of its shoulder armour. "I think it's important."
"Of course I do, don't be a fool," Neeru replied crankily. "This new order will fail soon enough. We draw our strength from the Legion, not this elemental foolishness. The demons will win out."
"I see," Ak'Zeloth whispered. "The strength is in our blood."
Thrall gritted his teeth, and swung the Doomhammer hard, and it crashed against the demon's arm. He bellowed, and began to chant in the same, terrible language they'd heard earlier.
"Are you going to stop wasting my time?" Neeru demanded. "I have things to take care of."
"Yes, Master, I'll stop wasting time," Ak'Zeloth replied. Thrall turned again, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ak'Zeloth reach for the rock. He muttered, and in his hand the rock turned red, burning his skin. The young warlock gritted his teeth, and raised it above his head, a dull, reddish tint to his eyes. "Our strength... is in... our blood!" He brought the rock down and it shattered what Neeru had called the Demon Seed.
The demon cried out, and Thrall watched as fel runes appeared along its arms and legs, swirling to bind it. Thrall backed away, and looked over towards the young warlock. Blood trickled down his face, and his eyes burned bright and red.
"No... why..?" the demon gasped out.
"The strength... in our blood... comes from the elements..." Ak'Zeloth forced out, "And our Warchief. Not... from you. Never... from you!" Quickly, he traced fel runes in the air, and Thrall was reminded of Jaina's teleportation spells, though this seemed reversed somehow. "Be... banished... back to the Nether... and tell them... we are not all weak!"
The demon snarled something, and winked out. Ak'Zeloth stood, one hand still out, breathing heavily. Carefully, Thrall moved towards him, and carefully put a hand on his shoulder. Contact seemed to break his resolve, and Ak'Zeloth slumped against him, though Thrall shouldered his weight easily. Thrall moved to heal his cheek, and he saw that what had been bleeding had healed in a scar that moved straight down along his cheek, and with a start, he realized that he had seen these kinds of worn scars before, on Neeru and on some of the others.
This must be the sign of a great working, Thrall thought. It marks them. He shook Ak'Zeloth lightly, and the young warlock moaned. "You did well, but now we need to--"
"Warchief, we have disposed of the Burning Blade here," Saurfang called, and Thrall saw him salute. His weapon was slick with blood, though he himself seemed to be largely uninjured. Quite the opposite: he seemed to be more alive than he usually was.
Politics don't suit a warrior, Thrall thought ruefully, though he noticed that Eitrigg was just as energetic, though he seemed to be more subdued about it. "Did you take prisoners?"
"There are a few," Eitrigg said. "Most of them made it difficult to capture them."
"I'm sure our Spymaster will find something to do with them," Thrall muttered, though he looked down towards the young warlock. "Ak'Zeloth?"
"'m awake, Warchief," he muttered. "'m sorry."
"You did well," Thrall told him. "I have a proposal for you in regards to the advisory council..."
"Why don't you just ask the human, too?" Saurfang muttered, but before Thrall could comment, there was a sound like chiming, and Thrall turned his head towards it.
"Jaina, I--"
"It's good to see you too, Warchief," Shandel'zare replied, giving him an exceptionally stern look, her gaze sweeping over her fellow advisors, and the warlock leaning heavily against Thrall. "I see you've gotten into trouble while I was visiting with my sisters."
"How are Sergra and Jaina?" Thrall asked, ignoring her recrimination. "We'll need to see another healer."
"Sergra is being taken care of by healers," Shandel'zare said. "Lady Proudmoore is with her, and it was felt that she should rest. She's keeping Sergra company."
"That's unfortunate," Eitrigg murmured, and Thrall turned slightly, even as Saurfang dragged one of the Burning Blade agents over to the troll mage.
"Why do you say that?" Thrall asked curiously.
"Think about it," Eitrigg said, grabbing a second Burning Blade agent, slapping him hard, and hauled him to his feet. The agent groaned, and Eitrigg nodded with satisfaction. "You had an intimate relationship with Sergra."
"Yes..." Thrall said, and watched as Shandel'zare began to cast the teleportation spell.
"And now she's speaking to Jaina," Eitrigg continued, and Thrall made a noise in the back of his throat.
I dislike that everyone seems to know my business, and if this is Garona's fault... There was a sound within his mind like a click as something fell into place. "Oh. Damn."
"Indeed, Warchief," Eitrigg said, and the spell completed, taking them all to Orgrimmar.
~ * ~
There it is... the door... Thrall thought apprehensively. The gateway to ultimate humiliation.
"You have to go in some time," Shandel'zare said sternly. "Face your destiny."
"Maybe it won't be so bad," Thrall muttered. He glanced at his advisor briefly, though she offered him no succor. Sighing, he knocked on the door, interrupting a peal of laughter.
"Come in!" Sergra called, and Thrall was pleased to note her volume, despite his trepidation about this, and opened the door. She was laying in bed, bandaged expertly, and there was good colour to her skin. Jaina was perched on a chair, sipping some kind of pungent liquid. She smiled over at Thrall warmly as he looked between the two of them.
"This is your idea of resting?" Thrall asked, his lips twitching and threatening a smile.
"It's very restful, Warchief," Jaina replied, looking up at him with eyes that sparkled mirthfully. "Sergra and I were just discussing you."
"Of that, I have no doubt," Thrall said, his sour tone belying what had to be a smile. His cheeks hurt too much for it to be anything else. "How are you both feeling?"
"Well enough," Sergra said. She let a hand rest on her side, and sighed. "I take it that fighting the minions of the Burning Legion wasn't challenging?"
"Not very, once you'd weakened them all for me," Thrall replied, and moved to sit on the bed. "I'd like you to stay in Orgrimmar for a few days to make sure you recover fully. We can have dinner."
"Just dinner, I'd imagine," Sergra replied lightly, and looked over at Jaina, who concentrated very hard on her mug. "I'd like that."
Thrall began to reply, but there was a look in Sergra's eye. It wasn't anger, or resentment, just a genuine fondness. I'm sure she has the wrong idea about us, that things have progressed further than they actually have, Thrall thought with a touch of exasperation. But Sergra was never one to be argued with... "Jaina, we should let her rest." He leaned forward, and gave Sergra a kiss on the forehead, keeping the gesture platonic, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek in reply. Thrall offered Jaina his arm, and she took it.
Thrall walked with Jaina out of the room, and closed the door behind him, though not before catching the suggestive gesture Sergra was making. He glared at her before closing the door firmly.
"She's very nice, and very knowledgeable," Jaina murmured as they walked. "And she seems fond of you."
"I usually consider her to be a good friend," Thrall replied, though his voice was a low growl. "Usually. I'm concerned that her mental health has been compromised."
"She wanted to know about us," Jaina said quietly, and Thrall shivered slightly. "Thrall, when you were looking for a mate, why didn't you choose her?"
There wasn't silence, but only because Thrall could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Distantly, he could hear the popping sound of fireworks, and realized that it must have been near midnight. Unthinkingly, he let Jaina lead him to his own chambers, and sit him down. Slim hands took the Doomhammer from him and set it aside, then began to unbuckle his armour. As each piece was taken off, a different kind of weight settled onto him.
It's a simple question, he thought as Jaina divested him of the last of it, leaving him in his shirt and pants. I didn't want Sergra to be my mate because something was missing. Just say that. "Jaina..."
"We were talking," she said, and moved to stand in front of him, and reached out to touch his cheek, thumbing over the smooth part of it. "I like her, and she seems nice, but I remember what you said, and what you were afraid of. Did you ever tell her?"
"I... no," Thrall admitted. "I should have, I just... didn't feel comfortable doing so."
"I see," Jaina said, and gave him a half-smile. She leaned down, and kissed him, and one of his hands came around to rest against the small of her back. Her lips moved slowly and carefully against his mouth, and he opened it carefully, making sure his tusks didn't scrape against her tender, human flesh. His thumb stroked over her lower back, and despite the warmth that still lingered, she shivered, moving closer, pressing the curves of her body into his chest, and separate from the summer night's heat, there was a feeling of growing warmth, and his arm tightened around her a little.
The knock on the door shocked them both as Jaina pulled away from him with an audible gasp. Knowing that it would be both uncharitable and an abuse of power to ask the spirits to sweep the person who'd interrupted them away, he cleared his throat. "What is it?"
"I apologize for interrupting your rest," Eitrigg called. "Warchief, there's been an incident in the Cleft of Shadows."
"You should take care of that," Jaina said, her voice soft. Thrall met eyes that glittered with both want and exhaustion, and saw the way her lips parted just so, pinker now from kissing, and nodded once.
"You should rest, you're still worn out," he replied, and stood. He gave her a much gentler kiss when she nodded, and collected his armour. Eitrigg was waiting for him outside the door, and offered no commented.
"The guards that patrol the Cleft of Shadows reported unusual activity from around the time that you left. The reports we collected indicated that there was some kind of disruption or noise by Ragefire Chasm. At the time, Neeru claimed he would take care of the issue. He disappeared into it and never returned." Thrall growled, and Eitrigg nodded. "They think he might be mustering the Searing Blade, since he has been discovered."
"That must be where he was keeping the other half of the Demon Seed." Thrall's expression set with grim determination. "I had planned to let the Shadow Council stew while I hedged in Neeru's power, but the recent developments have caused me to change my mind."
"Hopefully Garona will bring us back useful information about the Shadow Council's leadership," Eitrigg said, and added with slight hesitation, "And that she'll survive the process."
"She's very good at fending for herself," Thrall replied. "And she's aged well. I'm sure she'll be back within the week, complaining about how stupid they all are."
"Doubtless," Eitrigg agreed. "I'll call the Kor'Kron."
Thrall nodded, and watched as a few goblins shouted back and forth to each other across empty crates. "We missed the fireworks, didn't we?" Thrall asked quietly, and Eitrigg nodded.
"We did make an equally impressive display," Eitrigg reminded him. "Particularly Ak'Zeloth."
"Arrange something extra," Thrall said quietly. "On the beach. It's the crowning point of the holiday, after all."
"As you command, Warchief," Eitrigg said, offering him a salute. Thrall nodded once, and listened to Eitrigg with half an ear.
The Searing Blade hides within Ragefire Chasm... that area is unstable enough, and has been a danger since we created Orgrimmar. It was unfortunate that even Rexxar could never secure it. I'm shocked they even took the risk, though I suppose it was very covert-- Thrall stopped walking, and Eitrigg paused.
"Warchief?" the elder orc asked, and Thrall smiled.
"Assemble the Kor'Kron, but don't send them in," Thrall said. "I have a plan. This will take care of the problem quickly and efficiently. You're certain that Neeru is with them?"
"Reasonably so," Eitrigg said, and frowned. "What do you have in mind?"
"Evacuate the Cleft of Shadows," Thrall said. "The judgement of the elements comes."
Eitrigg paused, looking at Thrall, and then moved to do as he was ordered. Thrall walked out of Grommash Hold, and looked over at the likeness of Mannoroth that sat directly outside the entrance. Grom might approve of this plan, reckless as it is. He closed his eyes, and let his senses expand. He could sense Jaina, curled up in bed, resting quietly, drained of much of her power. He could not caress her in such a manner, but his hand made the motion anyway. He continued to seek, moving more towards the stronghold of the Searing Blade, and within it sensed the unstable earth spirits. Already agitated by the actions of the warlocks, it was easy to attract their attention, and to submit to a simple request. All Thrall had to do... was wait.
"The Kor'Kron are assembled, and ready," Eitrigg said, his voice distant as Thrall kept the earth spirits at bay.
"Tell them to wait at the entrances, but not to go near the Chasm," Thrall said. "They'll see why soon enough."
"As you command," Eitrigg said. Thrall could sense Saurfang amongst them, and when they were in place, he offered a single, mental command.
Now.
There was a sound like thunder, but it rolled, long and low. The buildings around them shivered, and people lunged to prevent objects from falling off shelves. There was the sound of glass tinkling as a few things were missed, or considered less valuable than others.
"Warchief, the Chasm is shaking apart! It's going to collapse!" one of the grunts called. Thrall didn't respond, and simply let the earth spirits flow. Stone fell, and sure enough, the entire thing began to collapse in slow motion. There were shouts as those that were fast enough to realize what was happening ran towards the entrance, and High Overlord Varok Saurfang. Thrall could picture his advisor, one hand on his axe, expectant, enough fire behind his eyes to cow even minions of the Legion.
He opened his eyes, and walked towards the Cleft of Shadows, Eitrigg keeping pace with him. When he arrived, Neeru and a handful of others were waiting, surrounded by guards.
"It seems you've flushed out the rats," Saurfang commented. "What do we do with them, Warchief?"
"They are under arrest," Thrall said simply. "For consorting with the forces of the Burning Legion, and the assault and kidnapping of Sergra Darkthorn, member of the Earthen Ring." Thrall smiled slowly, his eyes meeting Neeru's wild, desperate gaze. "Take them away. The spirits will judge them."
~ * ~
"The view from this section of the beach is fantastic," Jaina commented. The large, blue-white moon rested low on the horizon, having just come up, and the light from it illuminated Jaina's hair just enough that Thrall could catch the highlights, and the breeze pushed strands back from her face. Thrall smiled warmly.
"It is an excellent view," Thrall agreed, though his eyes were not on the ocean. The moon reminded him of the Night Elves' belief in the goddess Elune, and that led him into thoughts of Orgrimmar's other guests. "You spent quite a bit of time in conference with Tyrande today. Was she suitably entertained during yesterday's adventures?"
Jaina nodded slightly. "Your people were good to her and the other guests. They were happy, but worried since we both disappeared so abruptly. I explained the situation."
"What did they say?" Thrall asked, offering Jaina his arm. When she took it, he guided her down the beach, walking at a leisurely pace.
"They don't approve of fel magic or warlocks, of course, but they think you handled it well, and Tyrande said that in some ways, Ak'Zeloth reminded her of Illidan." She smiled, and shook her head. "I can't imagine it. Everything I've heard about Illidan makes him seem very different."
"Ten thousand years in jail might do that to a person," Thrall commented. "I believe that Ak'Zeloth will be an asset to the council." He moved his free hand to pat hers. "Did you know Neeru tried to get onto the council for months?"
"He must have wanted inside information for the Shadow Council," Jaina noted, smiling up at him. "The understanding I was given by some of your advisors was that you were trying to keep an eye on the known Shadow Council members, but that must not be possible considering the unfortunate accident with the Ragefire Chasm."
"Indeed, it was unfortunate, and I hope it didn't disturb you when you were sleeping," Thrall replied lightly. "We had a vermin problem that needed solving."
"Nothing too serious, I hope," Jaina asked, her tone equally light.
"Not at all, and I think we've solved it for good," Thrall replied, and Jaina gasped, though not at his words. On the beach sat a pair of chairs, designed to be reclined on in the sun, sitting in just the right spot to watch something over the ocean, and in the distance, there was the silhouette of a small barge. There was the faint sound of angry goblins, arguing over explosive yield. "What do you think?"
"I can't believe it," Jaina murmured. "Particularly not on such short notice."
"It wasn't fair that I invited you here for Midsummer and you missed the best part," Thrall replied gently, reaching to touch her cheek lightly. "I made a few arrangements. Would you like to watch the Midsummer fireworks with me, Lady Proudmoore?" he asked, his tone mock-formal.
"Warchief Thrall, I would be honoured," Jaina replied with the same kind of tone. She moved to sit in the chair, and he sat next to her, though his chair creaked slightly ominously. "If it breaks, I think there's a blanket here," she said.
"Hopefully it won't," Thrall replied, and put an arm around her. She settled against his side, listening to the waves lap against the shore, and the intermittent rantings of goblins. Thrall made a gesture, and a spark rose from his hand, arcing up, over them.
"Got it, boss!" one of the goblins cried, and after a few moments, the display started. Thrall watched them, only partly interested in them, despite their bright colours and loud noises. Instead, he watched Jaina's expression flicker in the coloured firelight. Blues, greens, reds and golds reflected on her hair, and after a moment, he tilted her chin upwards. He leaned in to kiss her, and there was the sound of something hitting the water. He felt her pull back, and he looked out towards the ocean.
"Do you need help?" he asked, though his tone was somewhat irate, even to his own ears.
"That's comin' out of your pay!" they heard from the barge. "The show will go on, boss. Keep watchin'!"
"They're very resilient," Jaina murmured, and Thrall nodded, returning to the task at hand. He thumbed over her cheek, and leaned in once again.
"They are," Thrall agreed. "Joyous Midsummer, Jaina."
"Joyous Midsummer, Thrall," she murmured before their lips met, and the next fireworks explosion made hardly any sound at all.
~ * ~
"So, the Shadow Council's influence is gone from Orgrimmar?" Jaina asked, and Thrall smiled, though she couldn't see him through the communication crystal. Around him, people went about their business in Grommash Hold, particularly his advisors, though Shandel'zare had disappeared some time earlier. She had said nothing, and he simply assumed that she would tell him when she was ready, and no sooner.
"That's the intention, though whether or not that's true is hard to say," Thrall replied. "It seems as though Neeru was bad at being subtle. Why he didn't think I'd notice his plans sooner, I'll never know."
"Unfortunately for him, he underestimated you," Jaina said. "Have you had a chance to look over the new fishing treaty? I revised the old one, and I think this will work out better for both Theramore and Durotar."
"I must admit, I haven't had the chance--"
"Warchief," Shandel'zare said crisply. "I require your assistance."
Thrall looked up, frowning, though that expression immediately shifted to concern. Garona leaned heavily against the troll mage and orc warlock that supported her, and around his new scars, Az'Keloth looked worried. "Jaina, something has come up. We'll speak again later."
"Of course," Jaina replied, and the magic within the crystal faded. Immediately, Thrall stood.
"What happened?" Thrall demanded. "Garona."
The half-orc Spymistress gave him a look that would have been smug had it not been clouded with pain. "I found the Shadow Council."
"You need a healer," Thrall said, and moved to her side. Shandel'zare made a harsh noise in the back of her throat, and she and Az'Keloth started walking, bringing Garona to a private chamber to be healed. "If we could have some privacy?"
"Come, young one," Shandel'zare said, jerking her head. "Leave them to this."
"Is that really her?" Az'Keloth demanded. "The Garona Halforcen?"
"If there's more than one of me, we're all in trouble," Garona said wearily. "Go away."
Az'Keloth, being young but not unwise, left. Shandel'zare snorted and followed, leaving the two of them alone.
"That was unnecessary," Thrall chided her. "He's new, and young." He gestured. "Take them off."
"This is payback for all the times I've walked into your room while you're naked, isn't it?" Garona asked, though she undid the belt of her pants, and hissed as she let them fall. Thrall made a similar noise, though in sympathy rather than pain: long, thin pieces of wood had driven their way into her skin, and the exposed ends were stained with the half-orc's blood.
"Nothing of the kind," Thrall told her, and knelt. He drew on the spirits of water, those that soothed hurts and used the natural fluids in the body -- blood and water -- to help ease each splinter out. The spirits guided his fingers to remove each one, whole, though after the first, Garona dug her fingers into Thrall's shoulders rather than cry out to express the pain she had to have been in. "What did you find?"
"The Shadow Council created a base in a place they call Jaedenar," Garona began, speaking haltingly as Thrall worked. "They've taken over a few elven Barrow Dens, and filled them with demons and their followers. I couldn't get in far, but I found a good place for the scrying beacon. We'll be able to move on them properly soon, and it looks like an organization called the Emerald Circle is interested in dealing with them. They've already sent in a couple of agents, but we can get to them first if we try. Consider it a Summer project. I saw Gruuk, too."
"Gruuk?" Thrall asked absently, working carefully, though his fingers were slick with Garona's blood.
"Or whatever his real name is," Garona said, snorting softly. "Because Fel'dan isn't it."
"Why not?" Thrall asked, and Garona snorted again.
"Honestly, Fel'dan? Why didn't he just call himself Chieftain Evul Muk'Dhark'Bhad and get it over with?" Her fingers tightened, and Thrall winced.
"You're very touchy when you're having six inch splinters pulled out of your thigh," he pointed out. "I'm almost done."
"Not all of us spent Midsummer having sex and watching fireworks, Warchief," she retorted. "Did you have fun, by the way?"
"That's a half truth," Thrall replied lightly. "Though the fireworks were very nice."
"I have no doubt," Garona mocked. "Why is there a warlock in Grommash Hold that isn't being used as a decorative fixture, and what happened to the middle of the city?"
"I wouldn't use a warlock, they smell bad," Thrall commented, and put his hand on her leg. He drew on the healing within Garona's body, and the aid of the spirits to speed it along. She hissed softly. "We simply had some issues with the Shadow Council's lower status minions. It's been taken care of."
"Did I miss Neeru's execution?" Garona demanded. "If so, I'll put scorpions in your bed. I wanted to see that."
"I waited just for you," Thrall replied. "What happened to your leg?"
"When I was getting out, I had to move through an area that was exceptionally unstable," Garona said, sighing slightly in relief. She carefully put pressure on her leg, and Thrall turned to clean his hands and then sponge the blood off of her leg. "There were some old, half-insane Kaldorei ancients, and one of them exploded right in front of me."
"This is why I told you to bring a crystal, and I was right," Thrall said, cleaning her newly healed wounds. "You said you wouldn't need it."
"There is no possible way you foresaw a tree exploding on me," Garona snorted. "You're not a prophet."
"I'm a seer," Thrall replied with a hint of indignant hurt in his tone. "I have visions."
"Mostly when the Old Man whispers in your ear," Garona replied, though she patted his shoulder. "In this case, you were right. I'm going to need new pants."
"I'm sure Jes'rimmon can bring you something," Thrall replied, wrapping her thigh tightly in a bandage, and securing it with a hint of magic. "Why don't you take my visions at face value?"
"I know better," Garona retorted. "Besides, if you actually could see the future reliably, you'd have seen your future mate and heir, and then there would be no surprise."
"That's not how it works," Thrall replied stiffly, though Garona's joking tone had caused something to lurch within him uncomfortably. Could I see who is in my future, assuming the spirits didn't simply laugh at me for being simple? If they could... do I want to see the result?
Garona moved around him stiffly, finding a blanket to make a rough kilt around her bare legs. "Thrall."
"Yes?" he answered after a moment.
"You still didn't tell me why there's a warlock in the Hold."
Thrall sighed, and decided to explain it to her before she became totally unbearable.
Chapter 10