Chapter Text
“The Horde is Nothing!”
With those words Sylvanas Windrunner, last Warchief of the Horde, saviour of Quel’Thalas, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken, disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
For a moment, deathly calm ruled the steps of Orgrimmar.Then, Warlord Geya’rah of the Frostwolf clan, wearing the tusks of Mannoroth strode forward, flanked by Queen Talanji of Zandalar and First Arcanist Thalyssra of Suramar.
Sauntering across the battlefield, she snatched up Shalamayne from among Saurfang’s charred remains, before dumping it at Anduin’s feet.
“And now, lion cub-“ Geya’rah said, pushing him backwards as he tried to pick up his father’s sword. “- we negotiate the terms of your surrender.”
Jaina opened her mouth to speak out in anger, magic already glowing behind her eyes, but was cut off by a powerful glare from Queen Talanji. “Try it.” Was all she said, gesturing to the vast battery of cannons aligned atop the gates of Orgrimmar.
Whatever it may have seemed like in the moment, in the weeks and months that followed, Jaina realized Sylvanas’ outburst was anything but a momentary lapse in composure.
By the time Anduin sat down to negotiate a peace treaty, the office of Warchief had already been dissolved and replaced with “the Council of Clans and Tribes”. Katherine and Genn tried to lend their experience to make up for Anduin’s youthful naivete, but they were no match for the combined political cunning of Zandalar, Suramar, and Silvermoon.
What’s more, Sylvanas had in secret adopted Lillian Voss, a Forsaken adventurer of some renown. After she in turn took Calia Menethil as her wife, a decision motivated purely by political interest, there was nobody left except for Genn to challenge Banshee Prince Lillian Windrunner’s claim to the throne of Lordaeron, Stromgarde, Alterac and Gilneas.
As part of the treatise, Jaina was forced to sign away her claim to Kul Tiras; a decision that outraged her mother but deep down relieved Jaina. In her heart of hearts Jaina knew she would not have been a good peacetime leader, unlike Tandred who would just not have been a good choice in general. Taking a page out of Sylvanas’ book, her mom was able to resolve the crisis of inheritance with a hurried adoption of Lucille Waycrest.
That of course brought with it, its own set of outrage, as conservative old nobles spat in their drinks and clutched their pearls over being ruled by someone of Drust heritage.
None of that particularly affected Jaina who had been sentenced to five years imprisonment in a tower of the coast of Zandalar with all the books she could read for her actions in the Fourth War; a clear sign from Talanji that she was willing to forgive and forget. Jaina did hear from the chatty boatwoman who brought her food, books and other necessities once a week, that her new sister had worn a bracelet from witchwood to her coronation; a sure sign she was not about to forget her heritage.
The sun was beating down on Jaina’s supposed prison, and she was soaking it in atop a blanket on the beach with a book in one hand, and an iced drink in the other; when a Zandalari ship pulled up on her shore. Not the usual ferry that brought her books and news from the outside world, but a proper sloop, albeit one with its’ guns stowed.
Jumping to her feet and reaching out for her magic, Jaina prepared for the worst.
“Relax daughter of the sea.” A voice called out to her with a chuckle from abroad the sloop in the unmistakably melodic accent of the Zandalari. “We are here to help you move.”
A woman, clad in nothing but golden jewellery and glowing tattoos, vaulted over the side of the ship and landed in front of Jaina. “I am Prelate Kaja, we met once under less pleasant circumstances.”
“You are, uhm, rather naked.” Jaina blamed her lack of conversation partners for her tactless outburst; and not that solitude had made her accept her attraction to women.
“So I am.” The prelate looked down at herself in appreciation, then stopped. “If it bothers you, I have clothes on the ship.”
“No, I don’t want to impose.” Jaina quickly said, worrying she had made her first guest in ages uncomfortable. “Though I admit I was wondering if there was some purpose to your nudity or if it was simply a fashion choice.”
“You could say it was both. As prelates we are living shrines to the Loa, our markings are prayers, our jewellery offerings. When the occasion calls for it, we dress ourselves in defence against the elements or the enemies of the Loa. Otherwise, it’s only fitting we keep our blessings on display.” Kaja spoke with the tired patience of someone who’d had to explain that to a great many foreigners. “But enough theology, I’m sure you’re excited to be off this island.”
That made Jaina’s brain come to a screeching halt. She mentally flipped through her calendar, realizing with a shock that today was the end of her imprisonment, and the ship was in fact a visit scheduled years in advance. “I am terribly sorry, I have been so engrossed in my studies I completely forgot the time and wasn’t expecting you for another month.”
Kaja laughed sweetly, and Jaina became suddenly aware of how many nights she had spent in the company of her hand as she felt a blush spread across her cheeks. “I must admit you are doing little to dispel my presumptions about mages lady Proudmoore. I take it you are not quite done packing then either?”
Jaina willed her cheeks to return to their normal color, and her eyes to focus on anything but the tall woman’s wonderful smile, as she admitted: “Haven’t quite begun is more adequate, I’m afraid.”
Kaja shrugged. “Well then we better get to it.” Her long blue hair glistened in the breeze as she spun around and loudly smacked the side of the ship. “Come along people, we’ve got a job to do.” The gangplank lowered and the crew of 20 or so sailors poured out, ready to receive orders, even if they too would much rather be lounging in the sun.
Within a couple of hours, Jaina’s whole life for the last five years was packed into crates and stowed aboard the good ship Gral’s Bounty. It almost felt too soon for Jaina, and she found herself standing on the bridge, looking mournfully out at her tower while a couple of sailors did a last tour of the island to make sure nothing had been forgotten in the shade of a palm tree.
In truth Jaina was terrified of returning to the world outside her tower. For five years she had been hidden away where no-one but a chatty ferrywoman, and the occasional lost fisher could find her; and for five years the world had been at peace. What if war would return with her?
She struck the thought from her mind and focused on the matters at hand. She could not control the ways of the world, but peace had lasted this long, so maybe the best she could do was just enjoy it.
Taking a firm, loving grasp on her staff which she had just been reunited with after five years apart, she turned to Kaja and asked: “Where will you take me?”
Kaja smiled, Jaina found she did that a lot, and replied. “By royal decree: wherever you want to go. Though I am told they are awaiting you in Boralus.”
Jaina nodded, she had never given much thought to what would happen after her five years was up. Why would she when there were books to read, iced ciders to drink, and shaded naps to take?
When Jaina had submitted to her sentence, her mind had been full of fear: Fear for her loved ones when she wasn’t there to protect them, fear of lonely nights spent dreaming about searing flashes of blue, fear that she would be forgotten, and that the world would be better off without her.
“Boralus sounds nice.”
As they neared Tiragarde, a pigeon landed on the ship, perching itself on the railing and pecking insistently at Jaina’s hand. After feeding it a piece of hardtack Jaina was a little concerned for how long had been lying in her pocket, she unfolded the letter it’d had tied to its leg and felt a lot of emotions run through her in a very short amount of time.
“Apologies for the theatrics -mum”
Jaina wasn’t sure what the letter was supposed to mean, but before she could think too hard about it, she got her answer.
Cannon fire roared out from the Boralus seagate, and Jaina instinctively grasped the railing and ducked low.
When neither the crash of a hit, or the splash of a misfire was heard, Jaina realized they were shooting blanks, and looked up just in time to see blue, gold and white confetti float gently out across the bay.
As they came closer and the seagate opened before them, voices loud enough that they could drown out even the cannons had they needed to, called out for her. People were gathered all along the canal, some who were clad in their Sunday best, others who had clearly hurried from work to be there, all cheering and waving at her.
Jaina felt the blush return to her cheek, all too aware that she was wearing a sweat stained shirt, and had neglected to bathe that morning.
Then, as if with one mind, the crowd’s cheering turned to song, and Jaina had to struggle to push back the tears.
“Ahoy ahoy, sweet daughter of the sea.
Ahoy this child of mine.”
Jaina would never stop cursing her father’s memory, but in that moment, she was just happy to hear the old song he wrote for her.
Jaina waved awkwardly to the crowd as the gangplank was pulled out, then seeing her family gather at its foot, there was no containing the waterworks any more. With tears streaming down her face, she half ran, half leapt off the ship into her mother’s arms. Katherine pulled her close and squeezed with all the strength her old arms could muster.
When her mom broke off the hug, at least 45 minutes before time in Jaina’s opinion, she wiped the tears from her face and looked her family over; only just now realizing how much she had missed them.
Her mom was the most changed: Her eyes were less sunken in, her hair had regained its shine, and her hands were no longer eerily skinny. Peace, and time off the throne had suited her well, and despite being five years older, she looked ten years younger than when Jaina had last seen her.
Derek unsurprisingly looked about the same, if a bit less mouldy. Such was the fate of the Forsaken, at best their body stayed the same while the mind aged. If anything, she should be happy he hadn’t decayed further Jaina thought to herself as she realized the umbrella he was holding was to shield his skin from sunlight.
Tandred had grown, maybe not in height as he still stood half a head below Jaina, but certainly in mind. His beard was groomed, his hair was combed, his shirt was tucked into his pants and his jacket was entirely devoid of mustard stains… Perhaps mom had just been over him for the occasion.
Then there was Lucille. Jaina had never been particularly close to her first cousin twice removed, but she was pretty sure she used to have ashy black hair, not the honeyed blonde hair characteristic of house Proudmoore.
There was a heavy silence in the air as the two of them looked at each other, unsure how to respond given the circumstance; as everyone wondered whether Jaina would challenge her claim to the throne.
When the moment had lasted too long for comfort, and Jaina still had no idea how to approach her new sister/lord admiral, she made a rash decision. She fell to her knees.
The crowd breathed a collective sigh of relief, a few voices far in the back grumbled something unintelligible, but it was Lucille’s actions that really stood out to her. She pulled Jaina to her feet and hugged her close. Not as close as Katherine, but close enough to make it clear she was thankful for Jaina’s decision.
“Welcome home sister.” Lucille said, quiet enough to seem private, but loud enough for those nearby to hear.
Together they began walking towards Proudmoore keep, flanked by a lot more guards than Jaina thought necessary for peace time.
The first thing that struck Jaina as she entered her childhood home were the windows. Her whole life, metal rods had barred them to prevent assassins easy entrance, but now they had been removed, and the windows flung wide open. The difference in daylight was unmistakable.
Next she noticed the air, or rather didn’t notice how it felt unmistakably heavier than the outside; as if someone had gone through the entire keep and with the wrath of an angry god beaten the centuries of accumulated dust out of every carpet and drape.
Jaina could scant recognize the sitting room despite how nothing had visibly change. Were it not for the burn mark on the table from when Jaina had first tried learning lightning magic, she would have thought the entire room had been pulled out and replaced with exact replicas, that was how uncannily different it all felt.
The first one to speak, after tea and cakes had been carried in by servants, was Lucille. “I apologize for my unearned familiarity by the docks. I needed to make sure the people did not think there was any unfriendliness between us, but It’s also my hope that in time you may think of me as a friend.” Her tone was measured and formal, every word carefully weighed before it was spoken.
“Nonsense child.” Katherine interjected and thrust a madeleine into her hands. “No need to step so carefully. You are sisters now, and children of Kul Tiras with the nation’s best at heart.”
“Some would disagree with that last assessment.” Lucille mumbled into her cake.
“And those that do will in time eat their words when they learn Jaina has no intention of starting a civil war. On to more important matters: what in the Tides name happened to your hair dear child?”
“What?” Jaina ran her fingers experimentally through her hair, trying to recall her recent magical mishaps when it struck her. “Oh! I cut it. Long hair is unbearable in the Zandalar heat, I have no idea how the prelate manages, but perhaps that’s why she’s going nude.” Jaina had practically forgotten there was a time she kept her hair long, she’d cut it off for fun within the first 3 months of her exile, reasoning that she could grow it out if she didn’t like it, and loved it ever since.
“Yes, well… But now that you are back home in colder climates, you do plan to grow it out don’t you?” There was a tangible line of concern engraved in Katherine’s forehead.
“I don’t know mother; I have grown quite accustomed to it.” Seeing the conflicting emotions on Jaina’s face, Katherine leant forward and gently caressed her knee.
“You are not as young as you once were Jaina, and if you go around looking like a boy you will only attract a certain kind of husband, and it’s the kind that certainly won’t give you children if you know what I mean.” That was when Jaina decided now was probably not a good time to mention having taken up transmogrification magic as a hobby.
“Suppose I wanted to live out life as a spinster, is that not within my right now that Lucille is Lord-Admiral?”
Lucille sucked in breath through her teeth, and Katherine cast down her gaze.
“A conversation for another time.” Her mother said, seemingly to herself, and poured fresh tea for the three of them.
Not feeling like fighting with her mom on her first day home, Jaina nodded in agreement and grabbed a gingernut from the tray. “How have things been in my absence?”
With the initial hurdles cleared, they kept talking for several hours, right until a couple of very flustered handmaidens burst in to politely remind them that there would be a gala to celebrate Jaina’s homecoming and that they really needed at least an hour and a half to get her properly washed and dressed.
Jaina came along with a smile, happy to have an excuse to recharge before being forced to spend the evening in the company of distant relatives, courtiers, and men hoping to marry above their status.
That smile however quickly turned to a blush as the pair of handmaidens began asking Jaina about the adventures she had been on and the places it had taken her. That blush turned to an entirely beetroot face when they got her in the wash and noticed the very large appendage Jaina had given herself a year or two ago just to see if she could.
Alone, late at night in her tower, Jaina had imagined she could be quite the womanizer if the desire struck her; but her mother’s handmaidens were quickly making her realize how misguided that fantasy had been. And based on the thoroughness with which they washed her, and the way they demanded explanations for every scar on Jaina’s body, she wasn’t sure they weren’t doing it intentionally.
Maybe it was just the five years alone on an island, but Jaina could not remember a time her heart had beaten as fast as it had while getting dressed by two giggling handmaidens, since she faced off against Archimonde on the steps of mount Hyjal.
The dress itself felt oddly constricting. It was perfectly well made and flattering, even if the fashions had changed immensely in her absence. Maybe it was just that the tailor had misjudged how much her biceps had grown since she last had her measures taken. An understandable mistake all things considered, Jaina hadn’t thought about how much physical labor solitude would bring either.
It felt like all of Kul Tiras was at the gala and wanted to talk her ear off. Some wanting to drag her into their political machinations, others hoping she had gossip regarding the lord-admiral, most simply wanting to hear tales of her adventures directly from the source. After her redemption in the eyes of the public followed shortly by her imprisonment, Jaina had apparently built up quite the mythos regarding herself and her exploits. Most of the stories horribly overstated her own actions, but at least few of them were downright falsehoods, which gave Jaina some measure of relief.
The longer the evening went on, the more convinced Jaina became her mom really had invited all of Kul Tiras, or at least anyone who possessed even a drop of noble blood.
With one notable exception.
As the clock struck midnight, and the person on Jaina’s mind continued to be a no-show, she pulled Tandred away from his tall handsome man of the hour into a quiet side room to demand an explanation. “Finnall isn’t here. Did she not want to be here, or did mother not want her to be here?”
They tended not to talk much about their half-sister, or as Katherine had described her once after having a bit too much wine: that time Daelin tripped and landed cock first in a Thalassian whore’s cunt . She was house Proudmoore’s dirty little secret, taken in to keep the public from learning that the lord-admiral visited foreign brothels while out to sea, but kept far away from the courts to prevent her from threatening the inheritance of Daelin’s “real” children. Finnall and Jaina had never been close, and Jaina didn’t begrudge her that, but the last time they had talked was when Jaina left for Dalaran; and after 20 years apart she really thought the least she could do was come by and say hello.
Tandred blinked at her in confusion. “You don’t know?”
“Don’t know what Tandred?” Jaina swore if her brother was about to play word-games she would turn him into a penguin.
“No of course, how could you, you were off saving the world from the Lich King at the time.” Tandred’s voice was full of remorse, making Jaina fear the worst.
“Tell me what happened to my sister.” Jaina hissed.
“Her and mum came to… an agreement of sorts. When the Sunwell was restored and Regent Lord Theron was instated, he opened the borders of Quel’Thalas for new immigrants. Mum heard that, or maybe Finnall told her about it, what matters is that mum gave her a bag full of gold and sent her on a ship to Silvermoon, and Finnall promised to never talk to or about any of us ever again.”
Jaina’s eye twitched, the Tidemother was truly testing her vow not to fight with her mom on her first day back home.
“Uhm, Jaina, your eyes are doing that glowing thing. You’re not going to like turn mum into a toad are you?”
Jaina took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. She already missed her island. “No, I’ll find some time to talk to her about it tomorrow. Then maybe afterwards I’ll turn her into a jellyfish.” She added with a quirked eyebrow, hoping to reassure her little brother she was no longer the same person who would levitate him onto the roof of the tallest tower in the keep for stealing her turnovers.
“Who knows, maybe the change of perspective will do her good.” Tandred fired back, and pushed past her towards the door. “Now if you’ll excuse Markello Fernwood was just about to explain to me some riveting alternative uses of grapefruits.”
Jaina rolled her eyes, knowing from experience she would be much happier not asking for details, and returned to the party in her honor.
Jaina did not get to talk about her missing sister the next day. She woke up around noon with a killer hangover. Too much time in military outposts and adventurer camps drinking to distract from the monsters waiting over the next hill had made her forget how to pace herself, and by the time she realized her mistake, the floor was already getting wobbly.
She didn’t have any more luck the day after, as her mother had scheduled for a tour of the country side with a couple hundred of the house closest friends; which left very little time to discuss unpleasant personal matters.
The day after that the two of them went on a day trip to the Stormsong monastery, which might have been the perfect occasion to discuss Finnall in relative privacy. Except that Jaina had all but been forced to spend the day talking to eager Tidesage novices she sincerely doubted could tell their ass from a hole in the ground. Not wanting to discourage the young from studying magic she of course didn’t outright demean their works, but with her half-sister constantly weighing in the back of her mind, it was hard to give them the compassion they deserved, as they struggled to shape even the simplest of spells.
On the fifth day after arriving in Kul Tiras, Jaina was finally able to get her mom alone and ask her about the supposed agreement with her sister. And after she got her answer, she kind of wished she hadn’t and could go back to blaming her mom.
Finnall had been the one to suggest the arrangement. She didn’t want anything to do with her family or with Kul Tiras, so Katherine had given her enough money to start a comfortable life in Quel’Thalas and seen her off.
It seemed clear to Jaina that it pained her mom to keep her promise and not try to find out how she had fared in her ruined motherland. It pained Jaina just as much to promise her mom that she would respect her sister’s wishes, and in truth she didn’t know if she could keep it.
Jaina and Finnall were never close. Looking back Jaina realized how painful it must have felt for Finnall to see their father shower Jaina with presents after coming home from one of his many journeys, then turn around and tell Finnall that she would be having dinner in her room again because they had dignitaries visiting.
That night Jaina sat in the garden and watched the stars. She had done that a lot during her time as Lord-Admiral. It calmed her down, reminded her that for everything that happened, she was still just a speck of dust in the universe. For everything that went wrong and all the decisions she had to make, the stars would continue crawling slowly across the night sky, and tomorrow another day would doubtlessly come.
Just as she was packing up her blanket and heading inside for the night, A troll woman with long blue hair, and clad in nothing but gold jewellery and glowing tattoos, came wandering out of the garden maze. “Lady Proudmoore, didn’t expect to find you here.” She said as if she wasn’t sauntering about Jaina’s home.
“I could say the same for you prelate, what brings you here, and at such an hour.” Jaina replied, and gestured for Kaja to sit next to her.
“I go where the Loa wants me, and it seems that tonight, they want me in your company.” Kaja said, and flopped sideways on to the bench, placing her ass squarely on Jaina’s lap.
“And why would they want that? I expected you to be back in Zandalar by now, rescuing kittens from trees and whatever else it is you prelates do.” Jaina chuckled and tried to ignore the sensation of a very attractive, very tall, and very naked woman sitting on her thighs.
At this Kaja stilled for a moment. “Do you want the polite answer or the honest one?”
Jaina groaned, from the annoyance at the wording, and definitely not from Kaja shifting her weight. “The honest one, I have had enough politeness this week to last me the year out.”
“Good choice.” Kaja hummed in approval. “There’s a man down below-“ She padded the grass for emphasis “-goes by the name Bwonsamdi; and he’s worried that after five years of easy work, you might send him a bulk order.”
Jaina took a second to decode what she meant. During her imprisonment Jaina had come to realize that the Zandalari tongue was a particularly poetic one, and that carried over into their usage of other languages – Which is to say nothing was said directly that could be said in a metaphor. “You’re worried I might start a war?”
Kaja nodded. “Or provoke someone else into starting one.”
“And how do you plan to avoid that?” Jaina asked, her throat feeling a little tighter as she realized how bad her position was should she need to defend herself from the woman on top of her.
“For the time being, by observing you, and if you ask nicely, helping tend to your burdens.” Suddenly Jaina’s throat wasn’t the only place that felt tight, as Kaja shuffled around on top of her, turning so her pierced nipples were level with Jaina’s eyes.
“I’m not sure I understand.” Jaina gasped.
“Oh by the Loa, must I spell it out for you. You have been staring at me, yes?” Jaina blushed which only seemed to annoy Kaja further. “I asked you a question. Have you been staring at me?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“That’s better. And I have spent most of a week drinking fermented apple juice and listening to old noblemen spilling their vile opinions on the lord-admiral’s heritage. So perhaps we can forgo the pleasantries and skip to the part where you release five years of pent-up energy inside me.”
Still baffled by the turn of events, Jaina’s mind took the first coherent thought it could find and let it fly free. “I thought you took a vow of chastity.”
For some reason this made Kaja laugh so hard Jaina had to grab her thights to keep her from falling off the bench. “What’s so funny?” Jaina demanded. In her head it made perfect sense, paladins and exarchs both took vows of chastity, so why wouldn’t prelates? Sure they weren’t the same, but they were quite similar!
“Chastity Proudmoore! I am married!” Kaja continued laughing.
“To the Loa?” Jaina asked, now feeling distinctly like something had gotten lost in translation.
“No, to my wife, who before you ask is just as okay with me finding partners on my journeys, as I am with her paying for partners while I’m away.”
“Oh.” Jaina said, hoping she hadn’t wasted her chance to spent the night with the beautiful troll woman with her oh so sweet smile.
“Yes oh.” Kaja said and wiped a tear of joy from her eye. “Now how about you make up for this little embarrassment by making me say oh a lot more times.”
Instead of answering, Jaina opened her mouth and leaned forward until she tasted metal and felt golden flesh brush against her teeth.
“Must we get involved?” Natalie groaned as she saw her travelling companion’s ears flick upwards, no doubt picking up the cries of some poor unfortunate stranger in need.
“Must you always act like we are too good to get involved.” Her companion fired back, already turning in the direction of the noise that Natalie’s human ears were yet to pick up.
“I don’t always complain when we get involved, but until we get this basilisk venom to the alchemist in Darkshire, we have all of 16 coppers to our name, and I am sick and tired of living off jerky.” The priest complained while falling in step behind her armored companion.
“I could catch some squirrels for us, roast them over an open fire with some foraged mushrooms.” The ranger-knight said, and Natalie just knew she was making that self-satisfied smirk under her helmet.
“The fact that, that is beginning to sound appealing to me should concern us both.” Natalie grumbled and pulled her staff from her companion’s bag of holding as the noises were getting close enough for her to hear.
“It means you’re acclimatizing to the adventuring life bishop Seline .” Her companion whispered back as she unsheathed her sword.
“You are going to be the second death of me Sylvanas Windrunner.” The priest swore, and prepared for a fight.
“Come on rotter, that can’t be all you had on you.” The bandit leader threw the Forsaken woman to the ground, blissfully unaware of the adventurers creeping up on him.
“I heard they hide coins under their skin.” Another bandit chimed in, clearly enjoying the look of horror on the woman’s face.
“Is that true?” An especially large bandit asked, as he took a knife from his belt. “Are we going to have to -“
“Find another way to spend your evening. Yes I believe so.” Sylvanas stepped into view with hood up, visor down, and sword at the ready. Natalie remained hidden in the shadows, no reason to play with open cards after all.
“Who the fuck are-“
The large bandit with his knives didn’t get to finish the sentence as Sylvanas severed his arm at the elbow, grabbed the knife as it fell through the air and jammed it into his thigh.
A second bandit tried to jump her with an axe, but before he could get very far, a blast of shadow magic sent him crashing into the treeline.
With sword and shield the bandit leader advanced on Sylvanas along with another bandit holding a sledgehammer. Meanwhile the last remaining bandit charged Natalie.
Sylvanas flowed with a dancer’s grace in between the two bandits. Parrying a sword strike with one hand, she grabbed the sledgehammer bandit by the back of his coat with the other and slammed his head into the iron rim of his leader’s shield.
Then she did it again for good measure before sweeping the leg of leader, landing him on his ass and kicking his weapons out of reach.
Looking over at Natalie, she found the final bandit writhing on the ground in pain as scorching hot needles buried into his flesh at the priest’s command.
Realizing that the situation had turned against him, the bandit leader began to plead for his life. “Please sir spare me I-“
Sylvanas stepped on his chest to shut him up and pointed to the Forsaken woman they had tried to mug. “Pay the lady for her trouble.”
“Yes milord, right away milord.” The bandit said and scrambled for his purse which he threw wholesale at his almost-victim.
Sylvanas lifted him from the ground and kicked his concussed grunt towards the main road. “Now get out of here, before I get impatient.”
Sylvanas went to inspect the Forsaken girl. She had the body of a young woman but looks were often deceiving, her clothes were simple but well suited for the road, her decay was advanced but under control, and in her left eye socket a rose had been planted that might have been beautiful before it’s owner’s manhandling. “Didn’t anybody ever teach you not to travel alone? Vultures like that can smell weakness from a mile away.” Sylvanas sneered after she had ensured the girl had suffered no injuries.
“Thank you for coming to my rescue, I knew it was foolish of me, it’s just… My daughter’s 18th birthday is coming up and I was invited to attend. It’s the first time since my death my family has invited me to anything and I couldn’t afford a gryphon, nor had I time to wait for a caravan. I thought maybe if I just moved quickly, and stuck to the shadows I could get there safely, but who am I kidding I am no dark ranger.” The girl choked back a tear and slowly got to her feet.
Sylvanas felt her heartstrings be tugged and got the distinct sensation Natalie was about to be upset with her again. “What’s your name kid?”
“Blightrose milady.” She replied, trying in vain to brush the dirt off her dress.
“And where does your daughter live Blightrose?” Out of the corner of her eye, Sylvanas saw Natalie freeze midway through inspecting some detritus left behind by the bandits.
“Marshtide milady.” Still a two-day trek from their current position, even assuming she didn’t get lost along the way there was a lot of dark forest standing between Blightrose and her daughter’s birthday.
“Oh don’t you dare!” Natalie exclaimed, pulling up her dress as she stomped over to stand in front of Sylvanas. “Marshtide is literally the opposite direction from Darkshire.” Sylvanas met her gaze from underneath her helmet, they both knew who was going to win their battle of wills.
“Ugh fine.” Natalie threw up her hands and returned to looting. “But when we get paid, you are buying me an entire honey ham, and I am not sharing it.”
“Whatever you say lady Seline.” Sylvanas smiled at the priest’s back and raised middle finger. For all Natalie’s talk about food, she had the appetite of a Thalassian noble on a diet; it was just her way of expressing her longing for city comforts.
“I’m not sure I understand what your ladyships are talking about.” Said a very puzzled Blightrose.
“With your permission, we would like to escort you to Marshtide.” Sylvanas explained politely
“I don’t have much to offer, but you-“
“That won’t be necessary.” Natalie interjected. “Just pay our kindness forward to the next Forsaken in need.” She never could resist an opportunity to preach.
“Really? Oh Dark Lady bless you both!”
Even if she had wanted to, Sylvanas couldn’t keep herself snorting loudly at Blightrose’ words. “The Dark Lady abandoned us kid, the sooner you accept that the better.”
Blightrose looked deep into Sylvanas’ eyes and for a moment she feared she’d been recognized despite her helmet and altered body. “If that’s true, then why did she send the two of you to rescue me?”
“Kid has a point lady Ravensun.“ Natalie said using the false name Sylvanas’ went by whenever she needed one. “Really makes you think does it not?” She was clearly enjoying the turnabout in teasing, and rather than try arguing about the matter like they had done so many times before, Sylvanas turned around without a word and began walking towards Marshtide.