this could be the end of me & everything I know; (CLOSED)

[crymoore]

Who: Jaina & Thrall.
Where: The Ta'ri Trading Post.
When: August 2702.
What: Finally a reunion...
Warnings: Talk of death probably, but nothing major.

[ It's been nearly three months since Jaina first arrived in Allaidh Darach in midst of a war. Isn't that just her rotten luck? From one war to the next without a choice in the matter. In addition to her abduction, there was the denial of free will in choosing a court for herself. Researching the two courts didn't sway her opinion either way as each document and conversation was given to her with a bias settled in their mind already. All she had in this world was her enthusiasm for research and a jewel of some kind that once resided in the proud chest of a distant hero.

"Bin mog g'thazag cha." Jaina whispers to the gem before tucking it carefully back under her cloak, looking over the sign of the trading post. There's so much she needs to tell him, but the power of words compels her to keep her distance as she reads them over, over, and over again.

Seelie shardbearers will not be admitted. We apologize, but please find lodging at the Station.

-- Thrall
Carefully adjusting the hood of her cloak to make sure her head was fully covered, she frowns at the sign all while recalling the importance of keeping distance between Shardbearers. It was unlike Azeroth where there was a history of meetings. That despite their positions of power, there was still an armor of familiarity that protected them from dire consequences. They would still be reprimanded for their actions when they were caught (when, not if), though incomparable to what happened to traitors of the court in Allaidh Darach.

With a heavy sigh, she turns and guides her horse in the direction of the Station. It's not that far of a ride and Patience has been a devout friend in these trying times. It's there she hears rumors of a witch that resides within the Forest of Brethil: mostly that the area's unsavory for beautiful maidens without a strong stomach, but that does little to turn her away. Witches who keep to themselves are more reliable than those who gather together and so she paid this Habetrot a visit.

Weeks later, Jaina finds herself standing before the door to the trading post with her hand against the shard hidden in her cloak. The notice is still there--why wouldn't it be--which leaves her wondering if she's done the right thing. Too preoccupied with her thoughts, she neglects to pay attention to her surroundings even as they change. ]

Comments

[crymoore]

[ The lodgings he's chosen for himself aren't too peculiar to her. Jaina's used to seeing a little bit of this or that across factions, not to mention her friend here seems to have a penchant towards the unorthodox. The paintings are of interest, Jaina's gaze flickering between them and the orc she calls friend. ]

You needn't trouble yourself so. [ Politely said, but without the usual firmness one would have when they make such an insistence in the first place. Jaina's thoughts are scattered between here and the rest of the world as she remains concerned with the developments of war.

Thrall's words settle in her mind and in turn cause her to ask: ] How long has it been for you?

[shamanism]

[He nods and sits carefully at the bar in a (much lower) seat that allows him to be at the bar comfortably rather than falling off a stool. She might not want anything, but he pours a couple glasses of water anyway.]

It has been a year and a half since I last saw Azeroth. [An awkward pause.] If I may ask, what is the last thing you remember? Sometimes memories differ between shardbearers. Vol'jin hailed from the future.

[crymoore]

[ Her heart breaks at hearing him say that. Traveling away from home isn't unusual for them, but to be away from their world for so long meant it was futile to long for it. Returning to Azeroth is no longer an option for either of them. ]

From the future? [ That's absurd and her thought on the matter isn't filtered from her tone. ]

[shamanism]

Yes. It was different than the visions he and I have on occasion. This was... some kind of deep sleep, and then he returned having lived it. I do not know what kind of magic that is, but he swore everything he saw was true.

[He doesn't say anything about the future itself. It's a bad future, and Jaina gets hurt in it.]

Koltira also mentioned something that had not happened yet-- or at least, had not happened with my knowledge. This world is very mysterious indeed.

[He takes a drink. He might want something stronger than water later, but for now, this is fine. He reaches across the bar, settles a hand carefully on her shoulder.]

I wish I could ease your heart about this place you've found yourself in, but the war grows closer still and I cannot bear lying to you. This world is dying and I am not sure how to save it.

[crymoore]

[ There's enough strength in her shoulders to maintain her posture. Jaina won't wilt before a friend and faintly she understands his need for physical touch, to ensure that she is very much real and before him. The gesture grants her the same peace. ]

The sovereign of the Seelie court will insist that there is naught at all that could be done for this world's sake save for making the end come about quicker. [ A belief she doesn't subscribe to herself. ]

Have we been brought here simply for the sake of digging our own grave?

[shamanism]

[Seelie court. Not that he had any doubts after speaking with Waver, but...]

They would, and the Unseelie monarchs claim the Void will destroy everything, even death itself.

I have spent my time here trying to find a third option-- trying to forge something out of what I know, what I have seen. I have only come up short. [He lowers his head. This is really not what he needed after the battle for Undercity, but it is what it is.]

I fear we must steel ourselves for what comes. I have not lost hope, but I think my role in whatever comes is not as effective as I had hoped.

But I will not raise my hand against a friend. I have no love for a king who enslaves people and defiles the dead.

[crymoore]

[ Shaking her head at that. ] There is no need for talk of that nature, friend.

[ Her hands reach under the folds of fabric that shield and keep her warm from the mist that covers the plains of Dorchadas, withdrawing something wrapped up tightly in even thicker leather. In the mind of this estranged sorceress there was nothing more she could do for Azeroth save for the exchange and so she did so with little hesitation. ]

I relinquished the piece of the Uaine Cridhe that had been bestowed upon me to one they call Habetrot. I am now what they call a Shardless and therefore have no sworn allegiance to any court. [ Which is why she's here now with him. ]

The fragments of Frostmourne that had been left in the care of those wise enough to resist the call of power...

[ Her voice is hauntingly distant as testament to his earlier question. The last event in Azeroth she must have witnessed was the fall of the Lich King. While many other pressing matters became known shortly after, this is what she chose fo focus on. ]

I have known people to change, Thrall. Whether we will or no, the events of history past have shown us that man desires power unlike no other. [ It was important to her to pick up what her beloved prince had strewn about and to prevent history from repeating itself. ] Please forgive my scant regard for my return to Azeroth as I never thought it possible.

[ She doesn't know much about the shard, but she knows well enough the sacrifice that came in giving it up. Azeroth will live, but she will never see it again. ]

[shamanism]

[The reality of Jaina's words doesn't sink in for a good few seconds. He glances at the wrapped package; he feels its power but doesn't quite comprehend.]

You... what?

[He searches her face, his hands on her shoulders, as if he might be able to make sense of what he's just been told. It dawns on him, slowly but surely, his bright blue eyes widening with surprise, then sadness.]

Oh, Jaina. Jaina.

[She's made the ultimate sacrifice. Sacrificed her ability to return to her world, and made sure that Frostmourne can't be reforged and made into some other wicked blade. He's struck by her selflessness as always. She is his best friend and now she is dead to her world-- their world. His throat tightens as he comes to this realization.]

My friend, you are so brave. You loved Azeroth so much that you gave it up. I... could not. I cowered before the death god who asked for more than I could give, and I denied him.

[He bites his bottom lip as he looks into her face.]

You are free from the war but you are still bound to this world. Oh, Jaina. [She has no court to protect her now. He can run to Cair Scima if he so pleases, but she cannot. Though his friend is very real in front of him, if he returns to Azeroth, he will sorely miss her presence. If that's even an option.

Spirits, he doesn't know what to do.

His fingers are trembling and his throat is tight, and his eyes sting at the corners, and without really thinking about it he pulls the tiny sorceress against him. He feels like this is his fault somehow. If he had contacted her sooner, or protected her better, she might not have been forced to this choice.

No, she made this choice herself. She thought it was a worthy trade.]

The monarchs have already taken their leave of you, I know, but-- I will protect you in their place, I swear by my ancestors. Food, water, shelter, I have it all right here. I would trade everything I have on this forsaken world to see you home safely.

[crymoore]

[ Jaina speaks as if the task had been easy and to most who know her, of course there had been no alternative. For years she's carried this tremendous guilt that she could never articulate into words despite the impact they had in her life and years later she would carry it with her to the grave. It wasn't as if she could be buried with family or anywhere within in Azeroth as the lasting memory of the birth of the undead caused her to make arrangements to dispose of her body entirely. That preparation among several others was due to the influence that the Lich King had left behind in her. There was plenty left to do in Azeroth, but she would no longer have a part in it. Life goes on and so it would for those who remained in Azeroth, hopefully a lot easier now that Frostmourne's fragments were removed.

For both Frostmourne and her to disappear at once... Azeroth's denizens may fear her as their next villain, but perhaps there was enough faith in her actions that her name wouldn't be tarnished so much. Those who believed in her would rise up to defend her name and those who didn't would move on to the next threat that faced their world all while Jaina lived with the decision she made. Not lightly, but one that had to be made above all else. ]

Thrall..? [ She doesn't fall into this trance of thought during the summer easily, but nothing pulls her out of it quicker than her friend's actions.

Humans were known for being affectionate creatures. They bond easily with others and grow attached to physical contact unlike many of the other races that Jaina was familiar with. The orcs, for example, valued honor and fighting above many other things. A punch to the jaw may as well be the same thing as raising a hand to greet a friend so while she is surprised to feel his arms around her, she welcomes it without resistance. There's so much going on that it slips through the moment, lost on her for now--but will return later on when she is by herself once more. ]

There is no need for any of that. [ She begins, pausing only when she lets the weight of his words settle in her mind. Was he asking for what was never possible before-? ]

[shamanism]

[In the end, the tears win. He has never been shy about them. Jaina might not allow herself to mourn for the exchange, but Thrall does. He weeps for her, for the life she could have had. He weeps for her people, left without a guide, and he weeps for what will surely bring more conflict to the Horde and Alliance. And he weeps for himself. What will he do without her by his side, helping him plan battles and diplomacies? What will he do without her hand in his, giving him the strength he thought vanished when all his dreams lay beneath his feet?

Thrall is nothing without people to guide him. Nothing but an inexperienced, hot-blooded warrior-shaman who keeps making one bad decision after another.

His grip is never too tight despite his ridiculous size. Of course, being this big means bigger tears, too. He doesn't try to wipe them away, he ignores them.]

You deserve so much more than what you have been given. And now no one will give you anything, for they place a man's worth not on his deeds or his potential but by pure circumstance of birth.

[He swallows hard.]

You can choose your own path and take care of yourself, as you always have. But... I would worry much less if you helped my friends and I to avert this war.