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]

[ 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.