#jaina knows everything i think

[druidonity2]

2021 just some guys celebrating pride

[maobaobao]

i think i found a throughliine in the trope of my favroite characters (previously described as :crazy bitches) its just that theyre characters who are in constant suffering because they care so much. and also being huge bitches about it.

[gffa]

Everyone has my absolute sympathy for trying to sort this stuff out, because there is so much source material to sort through and so much of a game of Telephone being played (ie, one person says something they believe to be true, the next person picks it up as hard fact and repeats it as such, then the next person also believes it but adding a bit of their own assumptions to what the previous posts said, on and on until we get to where we are now in fandom) that it can be hard to sort it all out. My best advice is to just start paying attention to sources on things--like when someone posts a quote from Wild Space, I automatically think, okay, that's in the Legends continuity, because I've looked up which books are in which continuity enough to know that.  Once you start doing that often enough, you start naturally understanding what comes from what continuity. Like, for a specific example--the idea of Jedi aging out at 13, when someone posts about that, where does that come from?  It's always sourced back to the Jedi Apprentice books, so, okay, that's a Legends thing!  Can you think of any time that came up in the movies or in TCW?  If not, then it's not Lucas' continuity and it never happened there.  In fact, The Clone Wars (Ahsoka's 14 in the movie and said to be on the young side for being a Padawan) + Disney (the Dooku: Jedi Lost audiodrama has a 16 year old Initiate who will have to wait another year before trying to be a Padawan again) both show that's not part of those continuities. That's pretty much it, I just constantly go after the source, figure out where something is from, and if I can't find a source, it's probably Legends or fanon.  (Which is no shade!  People should do what they want!  But I do like knowing what's fanon and what's not.) For the Jedi stuff, I can definitely help you out--I have a Jedi reference project, which is a collection of citations from Lucas continuity + Disney continuity (if it's quoted from Lucas, the movies, or TCW s1-s6, then it's Lucas continuity, everything else is Disney on that list) and Part II has an intro section that lists the different continuities as I see them. But I would say the primary differences between Lucas/Disney and Legends Jedi are: (None of these are value judgements!  I have read so many good fics that mix and match all of these things and I hope people continue to do what makes them happy, re: what goes in which continuity!) - Aging out does not seem to exist, the AgriCorps do not exist in the same fashion if they exist in Disney canon. - While Bant and Siri have been recanonized, Garen and Reeft do not exist in Disney canon, nor does Feemor or Komari.  Rael Averross is Dooku's other Padawan in Disney continuity, he does not exist in Legends. - Male Cereans are not endangered, Ki-Adi-Mundi is not married in Lucas or Disney canon. - The post-ROTJ world is massively, massively different, like Luke married Mara Jade and they had a son, Ben Skywalker, Han and Leia had three children (Jacen & Jaina the twins, Anakin their youngest son), Luke trains more Jedi as adults, while in Lucas' views and in Disney, he trains younger students. - The clones are not Mandalorian, in Lucas canon and Disney canon, they consider Kamino their home and they've never spoken any Mando'a.  Honestly,  I'm not sure any Mando'a has ever been spoken in any of Disney's stuff?  (Also, Mando'a was heavily linked with Karen Traviss' writing and, given that she's a Trump supporter and anti-BLM irl, some people really don't want to touch her stuff.) - The Jedi meditation mantra of "there is no emotion, there is peace" is purely a supplementary canon thing, it started in an '80s roleplaying book for the OT, then made its way to PT Legends stuff, and is referenced in Disney's continuity, but it does not exist in Lucas' continuity at all.  Also the "emotion yet peace" version is a prequels era thing, a lot of people will say it's an "older version" of the Jedi Code, but the only time we see it is during the Clone Wars (from the Kanan comics' flashbacks). - Grey Jedi do not exist in Lucas Canon or Disney canon.  I’m not sure if they’re around in some form in Legends (a lot of wild stuff happened in Legends), but they seem to be actively impossible to have in these canons, given the story group’s commentary about how you cannot use the dark side without consequences.  You can’t be a Jedi and use the dark side, pretty much. Oh, no, I'm kind of stuttering to a stop on trying to think of more major differences between the continuities, because honestly I'm better at answering direct questions than trying to come up with something.  (And even then, if I can't write a 25k essay, I feel bad, like, "Is this enough??  Or am I FAILING  here??" because sometimes Star Wars just Does Not Give Us Answers.  orz)

[operationslipperypuppet]

The biggest thing about the Naddpod messages that I’m NEVER GOING TO BE NORMAL ABOUT is the difference between Moonshine’s two messages.

Murph says it was on a loop so she may have recorded it several hours before Hardwon heard it but the first was pure raw emotion. Moonshine was rushed and upset and just desperate for him to know they needed him. And once Hardwon replies her message back sounds like all her problems have been solved and he hasn’t even managed to get there yet.

Just knowing he’s on his way made all the difference for her and it’s been 200 years since campaign one and THEYRE STILL LIKE THIS ABOUT EACH OTHER?? I’m just not well. Ya know?

Moonshine's first message is a plea. I don't think it's the first message she sent out on a loop through that communicator, so that if Hardwon was able to reconnect to his, he'd know she was thinking of him. But I do think it was the most desperate. The first time she actually was begging for his help.

She's frantic, she's rushed. She's getting the information across as quickly as she can, she needs him to hear it. That's why she keeps returning to his name. It's addressed to him, because she knows he's her only hope. Everyone else who could help is stuck there with her. She has only a moment to communicate these things, and she is desperate to get it out to him, because he might just be able to save her.

And Hardwon? He heard it. The second the message is over, everything else in his life that was holding him back washed away. His desperation was so apparent, he tried to get a teleporter to work, knowing full well that he had other responsibilities to the Crow Crew, to Jaina, to MeeMaw, to Bahumia. Those didn't matter anymore. His main responsibility is, as always, to Moonshine.

Moonshine's second message, though? When he says he's coming (girl)? "It's just a quick message, and it's really quiet", but it's full of simple relief. Relief that he's coming back, relief that he's able to save her. All her problems have been solved. Missing Hardwon would always be her worst problem. Knowing he's on his way fixes that in the best possible way.

The distress signal and Hardwon's transmitted response actively changed both Hardwon and Moonshine the instant they were heard. Because regardless of how long it's been, they're always going to make the biggest differences in each other's lives. Even if it's just with a few words, sent out into the universe, tied only to hope.

I'm never going to be normal about them.

[zellk]

Hey there. I love your art and I saw a tiktok that I can't stop thinking about. Between Jaina and Sylvanas, which one unabashedly wears crocs and which one is appalled by them? Have a great day!

Hi there ! Oh god - after taking some time to think about it, I figured there would be two different timelines : - Ranger-General Sylvanas / Dalaran Student Jaina -> Sylvanas wears the crocs without shame. She owns it, she knows it infuriates some people, she makes it work (somehow) (it makes all of it even more infuriating). She has a shit eating grin everytime. Jaina tried to teleport the cursed shoes away but somehow Sylvanas always finds them again or gets new ones. - Undead Sylvanas / Archmage Jaina -> Jaina is so done with everything, she is tired, she hasn't slept in 40 hours, she is going to wear these crocs, she has so much shit to take care of, she just wants easy shoes to put on and to get going. Sylvanas wants to burn the damn things away (she doesn't) (still everyday she tries to see if they can spontaneously combust under her glare).

[blue-eyed-banshee]

Sylvanas memories (Sylvaina edition)

There she was, laying on a bench in Oribos. Around her were members of the horde, including Uther and Bolvar Fordragon

"Sylvanas' soul... has been fractured. From the moment of her death... until now." A calm yet sorrowful voice spoke, and Jaina could only focus on the woman in front of her with worry etched on her face.

His hand hovered over the scar on her chest before he began to see what had happened.

Banshee queen and ranger general having an argument of what had happened to them and... Teldrassil.

"Uther, can you do anything?"

"I will see what I can do, Jaina. But I'm not sure if it will work." Uther stated with a frown to which Jaina nodded slowly.

"I understand, Uther. But please... try to bring her back. She means a lot to me more than you know."

Uther was told about her prior relationship with Sylvanas when she was alive, and he loved how she grinned when she spoke about her.

"You have my word, Jaina. I will try everything in my power."

Uther glanced back at the still form of the now former banshee queen, examining her wound she had gotten from Arthas.

"Her wound... runs so much deeper.. than mine." He stated. His eyes widened before he slowly took off his chest peice and slowly took hold of Sylvanas arm and brought it towards his own wound from Frostmourne.

A flash, and he was in his armor from when he was a paladin of the light. He knew he was in Westfall, a location he knew well. He headed in the direction of Goldshire, where he was an elf with armor from what he had seen in her mind prior.

The Ranger-General's ear twitched slightly as Uther made his way over to her, his armor clanking.

"Well met... Ranger-General."

Sylvanas turned, and her brow furrowed in confusion. Who was this human? She recognized the location around her, Goldshire.

"Wh- what is this? Who are you?"

"Someone who shared your fate... felled by the blade of the very same prince."

The ranger-general's blue eyes closed before opening,

"Arthas..." She whispered before paving back and forth.

"I died trying to stop that monster, only to wake up haunted by one with my face!" She raised her voice as she gestured to her own face.

Uther's brow furrowed as he tried to think of how to tell her.

"That banshee... is you."

The ranger-general's blue eyes widened before she slowly shook her head.

"No.. I can not accept that."

Uther transported her to a burning tree and decayed land.

"Her path began where yours ended, and you've seen the decisions she made."

The ranger-general's armor clanked as she moved.

"Never... in a thousand life times, would I betray everything I stood for!" She slowly waved her hand and scoffed.

"You couldn't possibly understand..."

The paladin sighed deeply and closed his eyes as a second half stepped out before standing at his side. This one was blue with white wings and different armor.

"The jailer is deceptively cunning. When I realized I had become his pawn... it nearly destroyed me. He had no doubts it would destroy you as well, was he right?"

Uther waved his hand, and they were standing in front of a burning tree.. Teldrassil.

"Or will you accept her shattered legacy and tell us how to stop him?"

The ranger-general slowly turned to look at him, once again her armor making a slight clanking noise.

"Her crimes... are unforgivable.." She had such sorrow in her tone and her eyes were opened to what she was told.

"Yes..."

"And she... I must accept the consequences." Her brows rose in disbelief, and her blue eyes softened with shock. The ranger-general was indeed overwhelmed by everything that was put in her face in such a short amount of time, but She had felt this before; when she was informed, Ronin had died to the mana bomb.

Uther felt conflicted. If she can even handle everything she had done.. but it was necessary to show her.

The banshee half of Sylvanas walked over to them and glanced at the ranger general.

"What he says is true.. we were manipulated by the Jailer. Azeroth is in danger... again." Her voice sounded tired. Tired from the never-ending battles, tired of arguing over something that the ranger general could never see and come to terms with.

"We sought to protect Lirath from the dangers of Azeroth.. but even we couldn't do that.. and we have always fought for our world and what's the right path."

Banshee and Ranger-General had solemn glances at one another when Lirath was mentioned, but now wasn't the time for mourning. No, now was the time for action.

"We faced darkness once before. And we can both find the right path if we accept his offer..."

Both women turned to Uther.

"Time is short. Make your choice. Know that Jaina Proudmoore still carries love in her heart for you despite what happened to her. I can be sure she will be happy to see you two finally whole."

With that, Uther placed Sylvanas' arm down onto the bench, and immediately he felt all that energy he had fade.

"I've done all I can." He turned to everyone still standing where they were.

"I do not know how long it will take, but we should give her time to decide." Uther's eyes landed on Jaina, who tightened her grip on her staff, and she was in thought.

It wasn't hard to know what the lord admiral was thinking about; Sylvanas.

One by one, everyone left to give Sylvanas some space. All except Jaina, who was sitting on the ground with her back against the wall to be near Sylvanas. She wanted to be there for her when she woke.

"You're getting your robes dirty.."

Jaina's head shot up, and she released a breath she didn't know she was holding onto. Her sea blue eyes began to water at the sight of Sylvanas sitting upright and was making her way to her.

Jaina's breath was stolen just like all those years ago at Kael'thas' welcoming banquet for her; where she met Sylvanas. Her eyes were no longer burning embers.. but blue? It almost pulled her in, hypnotizing her.

She hadn't realized she was sitting sitting on the floor until Sylvanas mentioned it, and she quickly got to her feet. She desperately wanted to grab her by the straps of her now tunic she wore. She was stripped of her armor, bow, and quiver, yet she still looked elegant as always.

She reached out but curled her fingers back and recoiled her hand and back down to the side. She had to be sure, she needed be sure her heart wasn't playing tricks on her.

"I-.."

Sylvanas smirked and it wasn't just any smirk. It was that smirk where her Elven fangs showed. The same smirk she made at the gathering all those years ago when Jaina's words died in her throat when she asked for a dance.

"I thought we were past being shy, Jaina. Or do you want me to ask for a dance with Uther and the others around?"

That was all it took, and she curled her fingers around the leather strap and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. She didn't worry about anyone else seeing them, not anymore.

Tears wet her eyes, and she reluctantly pulled back, much to Sylvanas' yearning for it to never end.

"I... thought you'd be angry with me, Jaina." She spoke in thalassian softly before gently wiping the other woman's tears from her eyes with such care.

"I was. But it doesn't matter. You're back with me." She replied before she hugged her again, and this time, she began to sob

She had endured so much, and this was the one time she was able to remember how happy she felt before everything happened.

Sylvanas rubbed her back in gently circles, gently reassuring her she's here and never leaving. More eyes were gazing in their direction from the Horde and alliance leaders, and she saw some angry faces while others were in disbelief she was truly back.

The undead elf felt Jaina take her hand. "I missed you."

Elven ears twitched slightly at the whisper, which made her smile even more.

"I missed you too, but we have all the time in the world once we save Anduin." She said before Bolvar walked up to them with Thrall.

"Sylvanas."

"Bolvar."

Bolvar's body language was difficult for anyone to understand, but she suspected he wanted the same thing she did.

Revenge and save Anduin.

[rooolt]

Hardshine, to me, are soulmates no matter what way you look at it. i dont even necessarily mean romantic, like the fact is whether they kiss about it or not (which i dont even think has to be inherently romantic) they are so much for each other. moonshine is so intrinsically tied into hardwons identity and moonshine will live thousands of years and will meet so many people, but no matter who those people are, hardwon will always be special. its not even just about the big things of “i worship the ground she walks on” or “i cant imagine bahumia without hardwon surefoot” but everything else in between. its also about both of them crushing on luna and competing for her attention while also pushing each other forward. its also about moonshine burning so many spells so hardwon is good at sex the first time and hardwon talking her up to jaina. its about so much at the same time, two people who met by chance and even took a teen with them on the way being such a dramatic force in each others like. i dont quite know what im saying here, except i do know what im saying and thats RELEASE THE FUCKING LETTER JAKE

[snotsloth]

10 Characters/10 Fandoms/10 Tags

Tagged by @icehearts

Tagging, but don't feel pressured! (Also you do not have to make pretty pictures. Graphic Designer brain just took over and this happened.) @physicalvocalist, @sarenraegalpaladin, @vorpalbun, @captainqster, @leagor-majere, @sundered-souls, @ardberts, @hinganskies, @lilbittymonster, @janzoo

1. Harrowhark Nonagesimus - The Locked Tomb Trilogy

Harrow has true scrungly wet cat energy. I want to put her in one of those little backpacks with a window and carry her around in it for her enrichment. She's an absolute bitch. She is a pathetic little meow meow. She lobotomized herself to save the soul of the woman she refuses to admit she's in love with. She tried to kill a saint with soup made from her own bone marrow. She is a war crime. I like her so much!

2. Magneto - X-Men

He is the platonic ideal of my favorite trope, "Does all the wrong things for all the right reasons." Magneto has gone through the polar opposite of villain decay. The longer he exists, the longer the universe has to prove him increasingly correct on most things. All I can really say is, "Magneto was right."

3. Wei Wuxian - Mo Dao Zu Shi

Truly the most blorbo of all time. Are you also an ADHD burned out gifted and talented submissive brat with a praise kink? Boy howdy, do I have a character that you are going to imprint on like a baby goose! Wei Wuxian also has a hearty dose of, "Does all the wrong things for all the right reasons." Also like who multiclasses in wizard (specifically necromancer) and bard? This fucking guy apparently.

4. Hythlodaeus - Final Fantasy 14

I am so normal about Hythlodaeus, I made an entire AU around him. That is a reasonable thing to do about a character that you like a normal amount, right? The idealized lost love, trapped in amber, untouchable but also incorruptible by the sands of time that keep eroding the edges of your soul. And then they gave him lavender dead anime mom hair!

5. Varric Tethras - Dragon Age

I literally have a semi-viral post about how much this character has consumed my thoughts. Rule Number 1 of Dragon Age: Varric lies. He's a charming scoundrel. He's loyal to a fault. He knows everything worth knowing about Kirkwall. And he's a dirty fucking liar. The only reason Varric isn't romanceable in DA2 is that no other romantic interest would get any attention if Varric was on the table. I desire him carnally.

6. Temeraire - Temeraire

My most precious and smartest boy! I adore Temeraire so much. Swear to god, I did not read the Temeraire books before creating Orion as a character, but the parallels are so strong, you would think I had! He's a bookworm, a little awkward but full of opinions, and he has an unwavering moral compass. Temeraire will forever be one of my favorite dragon characters.

7. Jaina Solo - Star Wars Legends

I will never forget what Disney took from me. As a weird, nerdy girl who was also kind of a guy growing up, Jaina meant so much to me. She was an active participant in the stories she was in. She was an ace pilot, a skilled mechanic, and a Jedi to boot. She had her dad's sense of humor and her mom's moral certainty. I thought she was the coolest. Still do.

8. Ansur - Baldur's Gate 3

Ansur! My beloved! If you had told me that the character I would be most obsessed with from BG3 would be an undead bronze dragon who you don't even know about until the third act -- actually, no that checks out. He was so in love, and so loyal, and so bitter at Balduron for embracing his corruption! And that reveal! All the build-up, only to find his bones and then wham! the entire narrative of the Emperor gets turned on its head. I still get chills. Also, they were absolutely fucking.

9. Viktor - Arcane

Listen, as a disabled, obsessive nerd with too much to do and not enough time to do it all in, Viktor is my gender. I love just about everything about Arcane, but Viktor's storyline is my favorite part. I, for one, am very excited to watch his fall from grace and further corruption. I have already forgiven all of his atrocities. I do not care. He's babygirl.

10. Clark Kent - DC

You thought I was going to say Jason or Dick for a DC character didn't you? (Or even Roy!) Those would all have been very reasonable expectations. I am pretty obsessed with all of them. However, Clark Kent is a very special character to me, and yes I specifically am focusing on the Clark persona and not the Supes persona. Yeah, they are ultimately the same guy, but I much prefer Superman stories grounded in his Clark Kent identity. Superman is at his best when he is attached to the mundane world by things like his job, his family, and his love for Lois. (Lois/Clark is the ultimate het ship. I will not be taking questions on this. It just is.) Clark is essentially a demigod, and yet he chooses to spend his time loving people and living as one of them, and I think that's really fucking cool.

[1296-very-good-year]

Just for fun, here are some excerpts from the last wow novel that explored Anduin's mental state (Shadow's Rising) immediately PRIOR to his kidnapping, torture, mind control, and however many years wandering around alone with crippling ptsd:

1) They had reached the fences. Anduin grasped one of the crossbeams and squeezed, the old, battered wood creaking. He wanted to break it. He wanted it to snap. A surge of anger made him close his eyes, as if he were afraid of what Alleria might see there.

The hunt would continue, and he, as king, would find a way to keep faith in their odds of victory. That was his duty. A man had to know his limits, but he could not reach that limit, not yet; too many depended on him now.

The fence beam snapped. Just another thing to fix.

Another in a long, long line of things to mend.

2) He strangely wanted to stay in the crypt, to sit there among the dead and know their pain, their stories. It seemed easier than facing another day of frustration and failure.

3) Jaina: “Alleria and Turalyon tortured that smuggler in front of me. She used the Void to infiltrate his mind while he held him prisoner with chains made from the Light. It looked unspeakably painful.” She rounded the table, searching his face. “My king…I worry that their tactics represent you poorly. Every one of us, every soldier, is in service to your crown. We stand under your banner, and if their actions are sanctioned by your rule, what does that say about us?”

Anduin did not speak for a long while, though his smile diminished. He shook his head, turning away from her, pacing back and forth across the lush green carpet beneath their feet. Finally, he crossed to a large brazier in the corner belching healthy flames. Flattening his hand, he passed it back and forth just above the reach of the fire.

“What does it say?” he echoed. He sounded almost offended that she had to ask. “It says we will do whatever we must to bring murderers to justice. It says we will not forget those lost in war. It says we will not forget Teldrassil, or Lordaeron. It says we will not forget the mak’gora. It says that we will not forget the flames blazing over the Veiled Sea, or the fires reflected in the eyes of a thousand mourning children.”

4) His skin looked worn and blue around the eyes, exhausted smudges painted beneath.

Thrall knew that look well, had experienced it himself many times —the sleepless, sallow ravages of leadership. It had been mere months since he had last clapped eyes on the king of Stormwind, yet he seemed to have aged a full year.

5) Anduin found himself before the great carved fireplace in his bedroom on the floor, legs tucked up to chest, catatonic, eyes unable to close, mind unable to clear, the flames just inches before him searing into his vision until tears poured down his cheeks.

6) Anduin after meeting some young alliance soldiers in a bar while in disguise: They lapsed into song, forgetting all about their new “friend.” But Anduin wouldn’t soon forget them. He looked at each of their faces in turn, memorizing them, wondering how long it would take until they too turned up on a freezing slab beneath the Cathedral of Light, innocent lambs before the slaughter.

7) Anduin to Jaina: "Sometimes I need to be a boy again. I think about all the soldiers giving their life to serve the Alliance, and I think: How? How can they be so young? Those three brave souls inside, they think they’re ready to die. Ready to die for me. It isn’t fair. It…it should make everything stop. The whole world should stop and point at that, but it doesn’t. Everything just rolls on, the world forgets, and I have to pretend like their sacrifice isn’t a cruel, heartbreaking joke.”

8) Anduin made a soft sound of disgust and stood, hovering over her, considering her for a long and tense spell. A wisp of purple energy traveled down his arm, gathering in his palm. It happened in a blink, coming and going, dissipating before Mathias could see for certain what the king had done.

It startled Anduin enough to make him stumble backward. Shaw felt Jaina’s eyes upon him, and he glanced her way. If he was rattled before, the fear etched upon Jaina’s brow shook him to the core. Anduin winced, breathing hard, shaking out his hand before leaning back against the wall. Shaw knew better than to be staring when the king’s eyes began to roam their faces for a reaction.

So.. you know... He hasn't been great for a while.

Also, just considering it now, when Anduin winces and shakes out his hand after calling on the void, is that implying that the Light/Divine Bell hurt him for it? Cuz that's what it reads like to me 🤔

And if the Light has left him, does the Bell still bother him? Or is that gone too? Questions questions.

[catchmeifyoucanxox]

Shadows of Gotham

[ @brucieboy297 ]

The rain poured relentlessly, causing big puddles of water and possibly a flash flood later in the night. Lighting flashed, thunder cracked, Gotham shook.

Jaina was straddled to a gargoyle, looking over the drenched Gotham. Batman, standing to the left of her, broods, as per usual.

Jaina turns her head to her lover, partner, and hero. She finds him so attractive when he thinks hard, it practically drove her mad. “You think Joker is staying in for the night? Judging by how, I don’t know, hard the rain is giving Gotham? Lightning especially?”

Thunder clapped over Gotham again and she stood up, getting off the gargoyle and standing in the driest spot possible on the cathedra. She yells for her husband again.

“Look, I know this case is hard to crack! But we have children and you’re officially losing your insanity!”

Radio silence.

Jaina yells out again. “I know Gotham never sleeps, but this is becoming dangerous! You’re letting this man do exactly what he wanted to do, and get in your head! Robin had the same issue! Remember?”

More silence.

“Don’t fucking shut me out! I’m worried for your psyche!”

After the continued lack of response from Bruce, she holds herself and looks away. Looking at the back of her husband.

She mutters, “Coward.” And walks off.

Hours pass and it was starting to become evident that Bruce possibly lost his mind. Just before he called it quits, an emergency blip shows up on Bruce’s interface. Jaina’s not home, and she seems to be hurt, in the alleyway where his parents were murdered. Right in the exact spot, Park Row.

Aaliyah chips into Bruce’s intercoms. “Is everything okay? My watch is going off about mom. Where are you?”

[magnetarbeam]

Recovering Herself (WIP 2)

[The version where you can probably tell that I don't know Zekk nearly as well as the other two]

”Jaina, as your commanding officer, I’m ordering you to take today off. No training, no strategizing, nothing. Report to me first thing in the morning. At that time, if you think you need another day off, I require you to tell me so. You’ll get it.”

With his characteristic military precision, Jag left. Zekk followed a moment later, his impressed surprise registering only distantly in Jaina’s perceptions. 

A day off. The concept was almost an alien one to her. Thinking back, Jaina found herself astounded, barely able to believe that it hadn’t even been a year since the first of the atrocities committed by the creature Jacen had become. The series of events had so consumed her emotionally that it might as well have been a decade. 

Her service in Starfighter Command after the Yuuzhan Vong War had given her periods of leave, naturally, but it had always felt like a waste. All she had to give for the galaxy - almost all she was - was to find the next fight, and win it. She was the Sword of the Jedi, never supposed to know peace.

Under any other circumstance, an order like the one she’d just received would have stirred up a fierce resentment in Jaina for stripping her from her purpose, however temporarily. This time, though, as her mind began to process the events that had just happened, she was just numb.

She had almost killed Jag, merely for the act of embarrassing her. As Jaina thought it through more, the carefully constructed mental barriers started to break. It was a rush of emotion of such intensity that Jaina found herself driven to tears. Shock and guilt and confusion poured through the widening cracks. There was something else there, too, a sentiment that, despite everything, she was not prepared for. 

Love.

Flooded as she was by long-repressed emotions, Jaina couldn’t find it in herself to resist the notion that maybe she really did need a break. Jag, blast him, had probably predicted and counted on exactly that. 

Although she still had no idea what to do with a break, she realized there were people that might. 

Jaina turned and climbed the boarding ramp of the Falcon. 

—

“You’re still working?” 

Had Zekk spoken thirty seconds sooner, Jag’s jolt of surprise might very well have led to the new wiring from the blaster’s power pack connecting prematurely to the timer he hadn’t yet programmed, causing the entire device to blow up in his face. As he turned to face the tall Jedi, it occurred to Jag that Zekk had probably realized that. 

“What?” Jag asked, a hint of bitter hostility creeping into his voice out of habit. 

Zekk scrutinized him in silence for a second, and Jag realized his tone. He was surprised to find he didn’t feel that resentment anymore. For months, Zekk had been an annoyance. They worked together well enough on a professional level, but they didn’t get along personally. Jag wasn’t too proud to admit to himself that part of it was the competition over Jaina, who had entertained romantic affections for both men at different times in her life, but he was too proud to admit it to anyone else. 

Now, Jag wasn’t sure where he and Zekk stood. 

“But after today,” the other man had said mere hours ago, “I’m exceedingly proud to have you as a comrade-in-arms.”

Zekk still didn’t particularly like him. That much was clear from the array of insults that had preceded the statement. But maybe… 

“Come on,” Zekk told him, his tone suggesting that he was disappointed somehow. “You finally get through to her like that, and then you just hole up in your workshop?”

“I still have important work to do,” Jag reminded him matter-of-factly.

“So do I,” Zekk said. “So does Jaina. And you just gave us days off.

“Why don’t you deserve a break too?” 

Jag silently struggled to find an answer to that. The Chiss, even as disciplined as they were, still understood the importance of mental health. An individual driven to their breaking point by stress and anxiety would not be able to perform their role. 

The CEDF had given its soldiers leave just as any effective fighting force had to. 

But Jag was no longer welcome in the Ascendancy or its military. He had devoted himself to hunting down and killing Alema Rar because it was all he had left. That was a fact he was absolutely not ready to admit. 

“I’m the commanding officer,” he answered, trying to inject strength into the words, and to summon emotions that would read like he believed that that was the answer. 

Zekk instantly rolled his eyes, clearly seeing through the lie, but he thankfully chose not to call it out. Instead, he changed tactics. 

“I’ve known Jaina longer than you have,” he reminded Jag. “I knew her before the Vong hit, back before she had any reason to think she was a weapon.

“She doesn’t need a commander right now. She needs a friend.” 

That implication stopped Jag short. 

“Am I your friend?” Jag asked. 

That prompted another second of silence as Zekk presumably considered it. 

“Not to me. Not yet,” Zekk admitted with a sigh. “But it’s what she needs, and I want to stop fighting.

“When this thing with Alema started,” he said bluntly, “I didn’t trust you. Jaina was starting to shut out anyone and anything that wasn’t about her goal, and I didn’t think you’d help because you were doing the exact same thing.” 

The statement struck Jag with the emotional equivalent of a 720-teraton heavy turbolaser shot. Zekk was right. The anger over Jaina’s part in Jag’s exile had gone unchecked since it happened, and it had led him to say things to her that he’d already come to regret. He had done exactly what Zekk had said. He’d tried to reduce Jaina to a subordinate in a military command structure. But he hadn’t really succeeded, had he?

“I’m the last person to preach about mental health,” Zekk continued, “but what you did back there tells me you’ve come back from that.” 

[eighthdoctor]

Hmmm two semi-related questions that have been rattling around in my brain for awhile:

1) Do you think there is much of a BDSM/kink culture on Azeroth?

and

2) Many a joke and comment have been made about Jaina and her Many Suppressed Kinks, but why *is* she so repressed?

WHAT A DELIGHTFULLY MEATY ASK THANK U.

cut for holy shit yeah we gonna talk sex (also I keep talking super strongly about things but this is all personal opinion--founded in canon but nevertheless, if you want to write Jaina otherwise be my guest)

1-Is there a kink culture on Azeroth? Glad you phrased it like this, because I don't think there's anything so organized.

Kink, sure. We're all primates (.........or something) and humanoids come preinstalled with a Thing about power and hierarchy, and some of us are going to turn that sexual. Every society on Azeroth has some form of kink, both in the sense of bondage/discipline, dominance/submission, sadism/masochism stuff, and in the sense that there's things that are taboo and edgy and so therefore super hot to some subset of individuals.

Kink culture? Terminology and munches and people passing down advice about how to slap so you don't hurt someone? Less so.

Definitely there are cultures where BDSM (especially the D/s and S/M sides) is more socially acceptable than among Azeroth humans, I am looking specifically at orcs, you cannot tell me that a culture with honor duels is not also into consensually beating the shit out of each other during sex. There are peoples who are much more into polyamory and swinging, and who are super into high protocol D/s stuff (hello collective quel'dorei fanon to justify Jaina/Sylvanas/Dark Rangers but also I don't care it's great).

But see previous ask about monsterfucking, it's all so racialized that unless you are that race it's not talked about, and if you are, it's not super deviant because what, an orc likes CBT? Not a surprise. The problem here is how much does the 'deviance' aspect matter in kink? Western civ is so sex-negative that we've stigmatized basically everything that isn't cishet PIV missionary style, so how much of what we consider kink wouldn't be erotic if it was normalized? Idk this isn't my field but it is relevant here.

At any rate: I'm not because I'm happily married but I could reach out to a kink subculture and find a compatible partner who lives in my area on like...several different platforms. And one way or another I could have done this 60 years ago too (possibly more! I just know through the 60s). This bit I don't think exists on Azeroth, I don't think there's that level of organization and communication.

Which leads nicely to:

2-Why is Jaina so repressed?

Not a simple answer, even a joking one, just a bunch of interlocked issues.

First: Kul Tiran is based off Britain, and it's specifically based off a sort of temporally variable Britain from approximately 1485-1850 so like, I am free to pick the most deranged bits of British social norms and waltz off. Jaina, due to school, probably didn't get a sex talk from her parents but rather from someone in Dalaran (awk) or more likely, the library. She's not from a sex positive culture. She's not even from a sex neutral culture. She's from a country where "lie back and think of England Kul Tiras" is complete sex advice, and then she went off to school.

Second: Not that school isn't a GREAT area to learn about sex but we have no evidence that Jaina was a social butterfly and a lot of evidence that she wasn't, and then she goes directly from Dalaran into war.

And then she's Lady of Theramore and then she's on the Council of Six and then there's whatever the fuck she's doing during Legion, and while there are periods in here where her life sucks LESS and it is completely VIABLE for her to do some sexual exploration but it's also like. These aren't periods where she's going to be going "ah yes I want to interrogate the bit where my deepest desire is for Thrall to rail me hard, pinning my hands to a wall, not letting me go even if I ask", among other reasons because she's not around anyone who is both definitely sex positive AND a social equal who she's interested in learning from.

Related, three: Boy does she need therapy.

Kink means vulnerability, and Jaina's a switch but she's more of a sub, and being a sub means a lot of vulnerability, and letting yourself be vulnerable. I cannot think of something Jaina is less likely to want, especially after Theramore.

In order for Jaina to explore her kinks, she needs to acknowledge that she has them and--ideally--stop shaming herself for having them, which means making peace with the bit where she really, really wants someone to call her names and make her crawl and slap her around. Which is a lot for anyone to process, really, never mind how much Jaina specifically is an advocate for equality and compassion. And she wants to be hurt in bed?

(Which, to be clear, 2 things: One, because I think introspection is necessary for Jaina to realize her kinks does not mean it's a requirement for others, just that Jaina overthinks everything so she'll overthink this too. Two, I obviously don't see a contradiction between wanting equality in 'real life' and roleplay in the bedroom. I think those go together fine and I am fervently committed to "Jaina is a kinky bastard" headcanon. Jaina has a problem with it.)

So to the extent that she acknowledges at all that she's into Some Shit, she views it as a problem, a flaw to be expunged. Proper, good ladies don't want to be held down and teased until they're crying and begging for something more and then left like that--

Four: With who.

Jaina's canonical relationships (and the only two I'm letting her have in TPtMB (except possibly one night stands?) because I'm evil) are Arthas and Kalec.

If you expect me to think that Kalec does anything but missionary in bed with the lights off, you're wrong.

Furthermore Kalec is not the sort of person to encourage Jaina to explore that inner darkness. He's going to make sure she's enjoying herself! He's not shorting her in bed. He's just not after anything else, he doesn't think she should be after anything else, he genuinely doesn't think she is after anything else, in short: It's vanilla sex only here and no discussion of any alternatives ever comes up.

From Arthas: She's late teens and blonde haired, blue eyed, curves everywhere, a princess in everything but title, there is absolutely no way Arthas does a single thing she doesn't want. None. There is zero way that Arthas Menethil, paladin, who, yes, is going to turn into something else, expose the ugly parts until there's nothing left but who isn't there yet, who's the golden prince, who's joining Kul Tiras to Lordaeron and it's a love match but it's political--

They also do missionary in bed but the lights are on this time.

In sum:

Repressed cultural background where you Do Not Talk About Sex

Went to school as the world's biggest nerd, then it's been nearly nonstop crises for 25 years

Thinks that self-reflection is a spell, has never stopped to wonder if maybe the fantasies are ethically neutral

Dated only men who were boring in bed.

[blossom-adventures]

For the Bad Things Bingo, I feel like Nightmares is a great prompt for Skyrim, because there is genuinely so much nightmare fuel in LDBs life? Fighting dragons, delving into undead infested tombs, being a centerpoint of brewing war... If nothing soecific, then the sheer amount of stuff just would end up in a nightmare fuel.

Also hay, hope you are doing well!

Hi! I am so so sorry it took so long to get around to posting this, things have been happening and my writing has had to take a backseat for a little while, but I am hoping that I can shift back into gear soon ☺️💙

For my @badthingshappenbingo prompt, Nightmares

This is a little teaser for the sequel to my Dragonborn story (it’s not got a title yet but I know what’s going to happen)

Visions of the Future

Ulfric stirred, he heard mumbling to his side, a regular occurrence now that he shared his bed with the Dragonborn, he turned his head slowly to look at Jaina, her eyes were still shut, and she was moving slightly, as if she was waving something away, she was clearly having a nightmare. Ulfric pushed up so he was leaning on his elbow, he reached over and gave her shoulder a light shake

“Jaina, love, wake up” Jaina sat up in bed, letting out a half gasp, half sob as she realised where she was, Ulfric moved his hand away as she calmed down

“Ulfric?” Jaina shifted so she was sitting up in bed, hugging her knees close to her chest, Ulfric moved up the bed too and wrapped his arm around her shoulders

“You’re safe, love, I’m here” Ulfric whispered as he leant closer to her, Jaina was trembling in his grip, “do you want to talk about it at all?” Jaina melted into his embrace, “was it Alec again?” She shook her head

“I… I was in a strange place… the sky was green and the water was black and as thick as honey… I… I was with someone, but he was wearing an odd mask, I couldn’t see his face”

“What happened?”

“Something grabbed me, it pulled me into the water, the man in the mask, he tried to get me out… but he couldn’t reach me, I was getting dragged deeper, and I couldn’t breathe.” Jaina started to cry, “I was so scared, Ulfric” Ulfric pulled her into his lap, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder, “it felt so real” her voice was quiet now as she continued to cry.

“And this wasn’t a place you knew?” Ulfric asked

“No… the realms of Oblivion I’ve had the misfortune of seeing never had green skies, I’ve seen red, purple and grey, but never green” Ulfric kissed the top of her head

“Jaina, this was a nightmare, nothing more”

“But all my nightmares have been places I knew, memories, things that haunt me from my past, this place… it was unknown to me, and the man in the mask? Who was he?”

“Did the man say anything?” Jaina thought for a moment, Ulfric could tell she was trying to recall the nightmare

“He… I think he called out to me, he was trapped there, he was so… sad… but then scared when I got dragged into the water” Jaina fell silent for a while, Ulfric could feel her starting to relax into his arms a little more, her breathing was also starting to even out too “Ulfric?”

“Yes, love?”

“What if my nightmare was a dream of the future? What if this is going to happen to me soon?” Ulfric’s arms tightened around her and he tucked her head under his chin.

“Jaina, my love, if you have somehow managed to foresee the future, then I am certain you will face whatever this is with the same bravery and power you’ve faced everything else with” Jaina curled up, as close to Ulfric’s chest as she could get and let out a long, trembling sigh “Rest, Jaina, you’re safe here”

[operationslipperypuppet]

erdan/lucanus or jaina/moonshine take ur pick

jokes on you friend i’m gonna pick both

erdan/lucanus

1. What made you ship it?

the second we meet erdan he reads as having “i fucked your dad” energy. they’ve also been best friends for centuries and erdan sabotaged one of lucanus’ relationships “for his protection”. it’s such a sloppy good time off the bat

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

the vibes. i enjoy a good best friends who are in love dynamic (which shouldn’t really surprise people on this blog given my insanity about other things). plus i think like intellectual equals who have a drive of competition while respect outweighs everything is always compelling.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on the ship?

hard to say, i don’t know what general opinions might be. maybe that lucanus should be nicer to erdan but that’s probably not super unpopular.

moonshine/jaina

1. What made you ship it?

it wasn’t something i considered before 99 but then it made total sense. jaina’s whole conversation with hardwon about it (and the fact that she was willing to bow out if he asked) plus her awkward formal attitude toward it when approaching moonshine. it was just so fun.

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

emily talking about it afterwards and the “i definitely lost concentration at some point”. also jainas letter to moonshine in the morning.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on the ship?

this is never not going to be a hard question for me because i simply don’t know popular opinions at all. however. perhaps that they had almost no chance at anything long-term. (they definitely had a lot of fun for a while but they had vastly different goals so it wouldn’t have worked).

ship ask game

[mayasdeluca]

I've really liked your blog for a long time now. I've always enjoyed your content and your comments and answers to people's questions. You seem like a level headed person, Sam.

What I fail to understand is your blatant dislike and disregard towards Jaina and her character on S19.

She's out there shining a light on her community and doing things to lift them up. Not everything needs to revolve around the LGBTQIA+ community. There are other marginalized groups that are under represented.

And the fact that you won't answer this comment out in the open on your page says a lot. You should really dig down deep and ask yourself why that is.

This whole Marina Fandom was beautiful in the beginning until they starting pitting the women against each other. Especially Danielle and Jaina.

The fact that the entire cast has pulled away from Danielle says alot. Maybe this Fandom needs to open their eyes and be honest just for once. Cos something ain't right there.

I really don't like what you're implying by saying I won't answer this on my page with your passive aggressiveness so here is the answer you're so desperately looking for.

You have sent me quite a few messages now (it's pretty obvious they're all from the same person) that follow the same type of pattern. The passive aggressiveness comments while expressing your love for Jaina, throwing shade at Danielle for different things and making insane assumptions that suit some type of narrative that you have in your head that isn't factual.

I had already answered your ask regarding the cast not posting BTS and your comment about Jaina not posting because the Marina fandom is mean to her. I already gave you reasons why that's not a fair blanket statement to make and why she's off putting to people in the fandom. Not everyone has to like her. (I especially don't have to like her character so I won't even elaborate on that.) I don't know why you're failing to understand that I don't. People can say that stuff happened a while ago, that's fine, but she's not someone I pay attention to or want to follow and I can make that choice. There are people who make the same choice with Danielle for the stuff that happened in 2020 and if they want to do that, that's their decision as well.

You then go on to make ridiculous comments about how Danielle has stopped caring about the show/posting about it and is only posting about her boyfriend/best friend's child. A lie. You completely ignore that part and just start defending Jaina in your next ask and make another dig at Danielle about the timeline of her relationship (which is hilarious coming from a Jaina fan because newsflash, she also got with a married man. It's ridiculous to me that a fan of either person would try and hold that against either of them...you either accept both or think both is wrong. Frankly I don't care for either relationship which is why I decided to ignore your second ask because it would then create more asks about stuff that I really don't want to get into on my blog. I pick and choose which asks I answer for several reasons and that's one of them.)

Now you're here again trying to imply that I'm somehow against what Jaina is doing for her community when that's not the case at all. All representation matters. What she's doing for them is great and that's good for her. I have never said otherwise or made a comment about that. It's absolutely unnecessary for you to undermine the LGBTQ+ community in the process though, while you're also here trying to accuse the Marina fandom of pitting women against each other. How about we don't pit two communities against each other who both deserve much more representation than they're getting on their screens?

You need to stop acting like the Marina fandom did this out of nowhere. Jaina unfollowed Danielle and it all stemmed from that. If she has her reasons, that's fine, good for her. Again, I don't have to like her and I don't even really pay attention to her. I don't send her hate, I simply answer questions and share opinions on my own blog and sometimes she comes up and recently she has been due to what's going on with the show. Her lack of promotion towards a show that she's the lead on has been off putting to me from the start and if you don't want to acknowledge that, that's on you.

I'm not sure what you're looking for here. In case you're confused, my URL is mayasdeluca which means my blog is for Maya and Carina. It's a pro Danielle/Stefania blog. That's what I care about. Not really sure what brought you here in the first place with the way you continue to trash Danielle and make these snarky comments but it needs to stop. Again, your last paragraph is a lie and you need to stop this narrative about Danielle while also trying to accuse the Marina fandom of pitting two women against each other when you clearly have no issue stating things about her that simply aren't true to make her look bad and would also qualify as trying to pit them against each other. Hypocritical, no? The 'whole cast' has not pulled away from her. The only one you can argue might have is Barrett, the rest of them seem to have the same kind of relationships they always have had with her. At the end of the day we don't know these people or their relationships or anything of the sort anyway.

I'm here for Marina and for the actresses who portray them and that's it...I don't need these accusations or implications and if you don't like what's on my blog now then maybe it's not the place for you anymore but I have a right to post what I want and what I feel without judgement.

[redisaid]

Beneath the Blue Moon - Chapter 5

Crescent

It's a generic winter holiday miracle, y'all.

The season makes me think about passive aggressive mothers, and was a great inspiration to remember that I had to write more Katherine Proudmoore.

Sorry for the wait.

6710 Words

Read it on Ao3!

Should’ve known, got too close, betraying what I knew. Spiting cost, I forgot what made me fall for you. For so long we’d withdrawn from mortality but, I had loved you because you were nothing like me.

“Is everything alright, dear?”

Everything was not alright. And Jaina was certainly not her mother’s ‘dear’ anymore, despite her recent forgiveness. The term of endearment was easy enough to ignore on most days. But this morning it had been all she could do not to cancel this little family breakfast Katherine had been so insistent on having since she’d returned. It was all Jaina could do to wash up and make sure she wore her thickest gloves, and that no blue glow shone through them.

She didn’t usually wear gloves to breakfast, but neither her brother or mother had yet bothered to comment, so that was something. But clearly, the charade was not enough.

Because both Katherine and Tandred were staring at her as she cradled a cup of tea in hands too shielded from it to feel its warmth.

There were many reasons not to be alright, though. For one, all of this wasn’t a dream. Jaina woke to a blue moon on her hand and a gnawing anxiety at the back of her mind that told her Sylvanas was awake and likely aware of the same. There was some relief that it wasn’t some sort of triumphant mind cackle, but with all that Jaina didn’t know, the anxiety echoing alongside hers didn’t help.

Another was that there was no note from Valeera, no sign she had returned as of yet. That could be both bad and good. And honestly, her timeline was not Jaina’s business. It wasn’t Alliance business. It was only ever Valeera’s business. She’d return with what she felt like gathering when she felt like coming back. And while Jaina was quite certain that would happen eventually, the fact that it hadn’t already was at least mildly concerning.

And the last of her concerns, or at least the major ones, would have to be the strangely vivid dreams of the night before. And how they’d eventually turned--so pleasant and true to memory for a while, but then eventually just showing her worse and worse versions of the hardest moments of her life. But at each of those moments, in each of those visions, Jaina would turn to find red eyes watching her. Always watching her.

So no, Jaina was not alright. She wasn’t quite fine. But she had a job to do, a day to tackle, and the Alliance to fend off for yet another day.

“I’m good,” she lied, then stuffed a sweet roll into her mouth to prevent further explanation from being on the table.

“You ought to sleep more,” Katherine noted, shaking her head minutely as she gave up on her motherly glare and continued lathered jam onto a crumpet. “I know you’re a grown woman and can do what you like, but the guards say you’re up at all hours. It isn’t healthy.”

“Come off it, mum,” Tandred said as speared another sausage. His fifth, to be precise. His accent was notably thicker than hers, and spoke of his time at sea. “We’ve just given her a damn country to run. You wouldn’t be sleeping either, if it were you.”

“Need I remind you that I ran this nation for the last dozen years?” Katherine protested, waving the jam knife at him.

Fine silver. The same breakfast set they used when Jaina was a child. Likely that her grandparents or great grandparents had used. Mother still ate raspberry jam on her crumpets, shoving the marmalade aside like it was poison. Tandred still ate like a horse, but a much larger horse now, with father’s thick beard and mother’s golden blonde hair.

Even this was too much. This routine that had continued so long without her, but resumed as if nothing happened. As if they never sent her away to Dalaran, and to court Prince Arthas. As if she’d never stood aside and let her father die. As if she had never fallen so deeply in love only to feel as the very soul of that love was ripped from her.

She’d never talked about Sylvanas with her mother. They’d traded letters about it, before everything. Katherine had been more excited at the diplomatic benefits of a marriage of state between the heir to the Admiralty and the patrimonial head of Silvermoon’s military than she was about her daughter finding the person she was meant to love.

“Hardly, mum,” Tandred assured her.

Jaina looked at the breakfast spread. It was all so familiar yet unfamiliar. Crumpets and kippers and boiled eggs. Sausages for Tandred. Butter and jam and the untouched marmalade. The sweet rolls weren’t even from the Keep’s kitchens, but had been a gift from the Alliance delegation. And the only thing Jaina ate that morning.

She was used to continental food. Sweet pastries and fruit--of elven tradition. Hearty breads and cheese spreads. Dwarven oatmeal, thick with cream and honey.

She’d kill a man for a proper cinnamon roll, at this point. Or some coffee. To think she used to miss good, strong Kul Tiran tea. This morning, it was proving too much for her stomach.

Or maybe it was the dual-layered anxiety. Sylvanas needed to hurry up and get gleefully evil already.

“Well, either way Jaina, I do think we ought to invite the leaders of the Alliance to breakfast tomorrow at the very least. I would very much like to get to know this High King of yours, if we are to be working under him,” Katherine stated as she slathered yet more jam onto her crumpet. It looked like it had suffered a tragic accident at this point, for all the goopy red substance that coated it.

“We’re not--” Jaina tried to get out, but found that her massive defensive bite of sweet roll was backfiring on her, gluing her mouth together.

“Get the old cook to fire them up a proper Kul Tiran breakfast!” Tandred suggested with enthusiasm, mid-bite of sausage. “Black pudding and all the good stuff!”

If anything could turn Jaina’s stomach more at that moment, it would be the mention of black pudding. No, there would be no black pudding.

“As culturally enlightening as that would be for them, I hardly think our continental friends would enjoy it,” Katherine pointed out. “Jaina knows what they like. Don’t you?”

Katherine was pointedly glaring at her empty plate, then the sweet roll in her gloved hand. Only then did her eyebrow quirk.

Damn, that woman missed nothing. Sharp as a knife, even as she approached seventy.

Still able to make Jaina feel inadequate over something as mundane as breakfast. Oh well, at least that was easier to deal with than all the other things she had on her mind.

Jaina swallowed the sticky bite of bread. Sugar glaze and flaked almonds. Oh, how she’d missed this, yet couldn’t stop to savor it. “The High King is fond of apples,” was all she had to offer.

Not that it was something they mutually enjoyed. Not that she’d once cut the fruit up for him into little wedges when he was still a boy. Not that he’d smiled at her like the sun itself. Not that she felt bad about all of this--denying him, denying herself. No, none of that.

“Apple tarts it is,” Katherine concluded.

“But mother,” Jaina cautioned. “I am firm in what I told them yesterday. I don’t believe we should lend them the fleet as of yet, or declare our allegiance. Breakfast or no.”

“Wasn’t that why you came here?” Katherine asked, blatantly and fearlessly--holding her bloody crumpet like a threat.

It would be a lie to say no. It was why she’d come here. One of many reasons. All of them seemed foolish now.

“A lot has changed,” was the excuse she could muster up.

And it was an excuse. Her hesitation was selfish, if multi-faceted, just as her reasons for coming to Kul Tiras had been in the first place. Even more so now. She had to understand what had changed most recently first. Why her mark had begun to glow again, and the bond between her and Sylvanas had returned. That was priority number one.

Matters of state and obligation could wait a day or two. Or at least until Valeera felt like returning, or the Horde revealed this to all be part of some heinous plan.

And even if breakfasts with what remained of her family were strange and awkward beyond belief, Jaina was quite sure she had to prepare herself for the worst. She would not let Boralus be another Theramore. She would not lose, not again. Not when this last legacy of hers was at stake. This last thing she had managed to save from being tainted by her failures.

Katherine only offered her a lingering glance before she finally took a bite of her overloaded crumpet. She immediately had to dab her mouth with a dark green napkin, but didn’t leave a single speck of red on her lips for it.

Before Tandred could reach for yet another sausage, the doors to the small parlor they were eating in burst open.

“Lord Admiral,” a massive Kul Tiran guard panted from beneath the brim of his kettle helmet. “Lady Proudmoore, Captain Proudmoore.”

It took a moment of Jaina to register that Lady Proudmoore was her mother, in this context. That caused her to hesitate for one, then two of the guard’s heavy breaths before she asked, “What’s the problem, sailor?”

“Horde at the gates--”

Jaina could feel the rage take over her like a wave. All these years. All this time. She tried to contain it. She tried to be better. She tried to maintain the optimism that people expected from her. Even after the outburst that saw her leave Dalaran, and the brush with insanity that saw her purge it earlier, she resolved to be better. She resolved to be ashamed of that anger.

Jaina Proudmoore was a peacemaker, after all. She was the voice of reason. And she had to act like it.

But even those few words were enough to set cold mana running through her blood, gathering at her fingertips, ready to fight for her life. Maintaining control of that caused her to miss a sentence or two of what this poor man had to say, for all the sudden swell of ringing in her ears.

“--a diplomatic message. Actually it’s just the Banshee Queen’s champion, that Blightcaller fellow, and one of them cow things.”

“They’re called tauren, Lieutenant Armstrong,” Katherine corrected him. “But it’s only those two?”

Of course her mother knew all of them by name. She hadn’t failed once to remember a sailor, soldier, cook, or stable boy. A mind like a steel trap. Father always used to say that.

Jaina calmed herself, willing her magic to settle back to her core, and willing Sylvanas not to have been paying attention to that spike of emotion. “What did the tauren look like?” she asked, willing her voice to its usual, authoritative deep evenness.

“Eh um, big? It had horns of its own but was wearing antlers. Wearing lots of animal skins and leaves too,” the guard recounted, starting to regain his breath.

“A druid then,” Jaina turned to her mother as she explained. “One of the Horde’s champions.”

“The dead man shouted up that he had a message for you and the Alliance folk, Lord Admiral. And the weirdest thing. They were carrying a coffin with them. A big black coffin,” the guard reported.

Was Sylvanas waiting for that register of shock to twinge across their restored bond? Jaina didn’t give her the satisfaction if she was. No, instead she was determined to let her feel cold, seething rage. And that very determination too. Whatever this was, whatever scheme, Jaina would get to the bottom of it. And she would let her know that.

“A coffin?” Katherine questioned. “Whatever would they bring a coffin with them for?”

She looked mostly to Jaina for an answer. At least Katherine was willing to acknowledge that her nation’s relative isolation led to some gaps in knowledge.

But Jaina didn’t really have an answer other than the roiling anger and suspicion that ran through her. “Whatever it is, I don’t like it.”

“The dead man wouldn’t say more than that, Lord Admiral. He requested to speak with you or King Anduin, or ah what did he say,” Captain Armstrong coughed before attempting his best impression of Nathanos’ accent--an odd lilt of a Northern Lordaeron twang and a hint of someone who spent a lot of time around elves and speaking Thalassian, “‘Preferably both of them, or anyone important, for that matter.’”

Jaina’s jaw was beginning to hurt from the tension with which she held it. Between this and breakfast and the night before and the glowing mark on her hand, she felt like a rope pulled too taut for too long, its very fibers beginning to fray with the stress of holding and holding. Still, she managed a reply, “Go then, and report this to King Anduin and the others. Have them meet us as soon as possible. We’ll go to receive this message together.”

---

There was a part of Jaina that didn’t trust anyone. And there was a part of her that wanted to trust everyone.

Mostly, there was a part of her that wanted life to be simple. There was a part of her that wanted nothing to do with this. With the Alliance, the Horde, or anything.

And certainly nothing to do with Sylvanas. At least, not now.

Time was a luxury Jaina was so rarely afforded these days. All she wanted was time to think and evaluate and deal with this. She wouldn’t get it. She never did. The Alliance couldn’t even give her a week to recover, and the Horde cared little for her convalescence from an attack that ultimately benefited them.

All in all, it made her think again on her time during the Legion’s invasion, alone and wrestling with her own thoughts, just as much as she did her solitary part in battling the demonic presence throughout Azeroth. Time had hardly been enough then either, and it was a year. An entire year.

So no, time didn’t mean anything. Not now. Not ever. It would not fix anything. But still, Jaina wished for a moment to breathe.

Instead, she stood at the portcullis, staring across a field of Kul Tiran green from the mass of guards that stood between her and Nathanos Marris--no, Blightcaller--on the other side of the gate.

He’d been uglier in life, somehow. Though now in his undeath, he sneered at her with the same smug satisfaction, just playing on gaunt features that complimented him, if strangely so. Sure enough, a large black coffin obscured his feet, being placed directly in front of him, like a dog offering his bone back to his master.

Even in his uglier, living days, he’d been Sylvanas’ dog. Sylvanas had explained to Jaina once that she enjoyed his company because he didn’t try very hard at anything, except to please. He was crass and mannerless and honestly a terrible conversationalist, but he would do anything he was asked.

The same held true now, so it seemed.

The tauren behind him coughed into her three-fingered hand, breaking the uneasy silence. She seemed to be the most uncomfortable person in the vicinity, as she kept her distance, but still loomed massively over her charge. Nine feet tall was still nine feet tall from far away.

Nathanos took that cough as his cue to ask, “Is that all of you then?”

Jaina cast a glance to either side of her. It was, indeed, all of them.

Genn Greymane was audibly growling next to her. A dog feeling threatened by another dog, though Jaina had a fondness for him that she did not and never had for Nathanos. He was still another dog all the same.

Anduin stood beside him, clearly nervous and clearly trying not to be. Jaina waited for him to start the conversation, though Nathanos was looking at her.

The rest were a field of familiar faces and colors. Alleria scowled toward one flank of the group, bow drawn and arrow knocked. Jaina watched her mother fight off a sneeze while Tandred seemed to want to be back at sea and not at all involved in this. Shaw stared Nathanos down, and while Jaina knew he likely had agents watching from the shadows, she very much wished that Valeera was among them and not off on whatever errand had kept her overlong in Dazar’alor.

She wished too that Tyrande was here, as she had once been--that is to say, a calm and steadying and logical presence amidst the Alliance’s usual hot-headed and self-righteous indignation. But that Tyrande was gone, replaced by the Night Warrior, who reportedly rampaged through Horde forces leftover in Darkshore, slaying any unsuspecting soldier left alone in the dark of the moonless night with terrifying brutality.

No, it was for the best then that she wasn’t here.

Anduin finally answered after too long a pause, “I believe it is.”

“I assure you,” Nathanos began, throwing his empty hands up for all to see, “That nothing of this visit and what I bring to you is meant to harm. I have missives from the Warchief to hand to you directly. I can’t very well do that with three dozen of your guards between us.”

“You have to understand our caution, Blightcaller. It was only last week that you were terrorizing the countryside here,” Anduin pointed out.

“All good things must one day come to an end,” Nathanos said with a smirk. “Lucky for you, and the lovely countryside of Tiragarde Sound, I am under orders to be on my best behavior.”

Anduin, of course, looked to Jaina for a decision on what to do next. Not only as Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras, but as a friend. As a person he trusted. As his Auntie Jaina.

He was still so young. Jaina remembered him still as just a boy, whose hair she used to ruffle, and whose gangliness she would tease after. That was only a few years ago. So few years.

It didn’t bother her to answer for him, even if she shouldn’t. Jaina stepped forward as she did, bidding the guards between her and Nathanos to part. “If they truly meant harm, they would not have come alone. Let me through and open the gates,” she commanded.

The stirring anxiety at the back of her skull made sense in a different light now. Worry. Worry for Nathanos. Worry for what was to come. Worry for what had been.

And a deep, tar black bit of something. A sinking feeling in the gut. No, not sinking but already sunk. A feeling that Jaina knew as she looked at Anduin and wished he could still be just a boy--a boy who wasn’t beholden to make lofty decisions or negotiate with the enemy. Regret. Regret in spades.

The guards parted, half in awe and half in fear of their new Lord Admiral. They did not know her. She did not know their names as her mother did. But they would soon learn that Jaina Proudmoore was a force all her own, and that an undead Ranger Lord and a nervous druid were hardly enough to take her on alone.

Jaina stopped just short of the iron as it raised, leaving nothing between her and Nathanos. Only once it was above them both, and out of sight, did she reach out her hand. Clawed and gauntleted. Covered.

All the same, she watched to see if Nathanos looked at it.

He only looked her in the eyes, grinning as he set an envelope into her hand. With a subtle flick of his wrist, he twisted the envelope before he left it with her, revealing a smaller one beneath in a drab shade of blue that stood out over the black of the coffin below. The trick left Jaina staring at her hand, not him, with the understanding that the second letter was meant for no one to see but her.

Nathanos nudged the coffin with his boot, with the thump on the wood telling Jaina it was certainly not empty. “This goes with the letter.”

“Why a coffin?” Jaina asked him.

“Why indeed,” Nathanos answered with another grin.

It was only then that Anduin joined them, offering his decree while the rest of the leaders followed close behind. “If you mean us no harm then, stay while we see what your Warchief has for us.”

A wise choice, made quickly. Jaina was proud of him. Proud and at the same time, dreading what was in the coffin, and in the blue letter that she quickly stowed within coat sleeve as she handed the larger letter over to Anduin to open.

But Nathanos did not balk. He shrugged at the suggestion. “By all means. I have nothing to fear. The worst you could do is kill me again.”

And while Jaina noted that the silent tauren still looked rather nervous, it was no more nervous than she had before. Nor did she look at the coffin. No doubt, she’d been chosen to transport the thing more so than anything else. Jaina almost wished she was there to see their arrival. Nathanos and a coffin strapped to a big shambling bear or stag or whatever form the druid might favor.

Anduin took a moment to stare him down before he took the envelope from Jaina, and tore it open.

And Jaina took this as her cue to stand back, looking as if she was letting the High King take the lead, but really just affording herself time to tear the seal on her own letter with her thumbnail, still hidden in her coat sleeve.

Anduin took long enough reading the letter to allow her to slip her own out. A small scrap of parchment. Not even a full page.

Sylvanas’ handwriting had not changed in her death. Jaina knew as much to be true, but the thought still assaulted her as she feigned a motion of shielding her eyes from the morning sun to read the paper she’d palmed.

And while the handwriting hadn’t changed, Sylvanas was certainly less verbose in death than she had been in life. And she was very lucky that Jaina had kept up on her Thalassian and had no trouble in reading the foreign characters, scrawled out onto the page with military precision.

Lord Admiral Jaina Proudmoore,

I have no doubt you’ve noticed a change in yourself as of this past night. Though I trust you are shrewd enough to draw your own conclusions, I’d ask that you give me a chance to explain.

Can we meet? Alone? You may tell me when and where.

I wonder, do you still like elven coffee?

- Sylvanas

Before Jaina had even a scrap of time to process those words, she noticed Anduin turn to her mother, and say, “Lady Proudmoore. I…you should read this.”

Katherine snatched the letter, and in a matter of moments later, screamed out a wail unlike anything Jaina had ever heard before. A raw, guttural sound, followed by one word that explained everything, and reminded Jaina that she was wrong. She had, in fact, heard that sound before.

“Derek!”

Katherine tossed the letter into the mud, any further diplomacy within it forgotten.

The last thing Jaina expected to see that morning was her mother lunging at a black coffin, trying to pry it open with her bare hands. But that was what she saw.

She watched mutely as others reacted. Tandred dove after her, trying to calm her. Anduin snatched the letter out of the mud, then bade the others to give her space and told them he would explain. Alleria kept her arrow knocked.

Jaina felt like she’d been turned to stone. It was all too much. Too much at once. The only thing that kept her grounded in reality was the gnawing anxiety at the back of her skull.

The fear, not that a nefarious plan wouldn’t go on as it needed to, but that kind words and kind gestures and requests for peace would fall on deaf ears. Because they were not expected. They were unprecedented. And mark or no mark, the evidence on her very skin didn’t help Jaina to understand any of it.

As Katherine screamed again and again, sobbing into ebony wood, Nathanos found his way over to Jaina, and slipped a small sack out of one of his belt pouches for her. He grinned as he offered it, seemingly delighted by the chaos, or perhaps the cover it provided for this action.

And Jaina instantly knew from the smell, that what he was trying to hand her was a small bag of elven coffee.

For the life of her, she wasn’t sure why she took it from him.

---

Hours later, a lifetime seemed to have passed Jaina by. If her hair was not already mostly white, surely it would have gone as steely grey as her mother’s in the course of a day.

A day in which she had seen the shriveled body of her brother--water-logged and burnt all the same, revealed by the somber force of Kul Tiran guards who were eventually tasked with opening the casket to confirm. He still wore the tattered remains of his greatcoat--deep green woolen broadcloth long leeched of life and color by the sea.

Jaina remembered how she could barely reach the highest pocket of it, that day he left to go to war, and how she’d been so proud of her ability to do so. She’d put a handful of candy into it for him, and Derek laughed as he caught her in her reverse thievery, and told her he’d be back soon.

A funeral of sorts was being arranged. A memorial. A vigil. Jaina wasn’t sure what to call it--save that there was a wave of grief and relief that washed over Boralus all at once as the city learned that its favored son had been returned to it, still as dead as he had been for well over two decades.

The valet coughed, reminding Jaina that somehow the day held yet further business for her.

Right, the tour.

“I trust everything is to your liking, Lord Admiral?” the man asked, sliding his glasses back up his nose for the umpteenth time.

She hardly needed a tour of the Lord Admiral’s suite. Yet here she was, at the end of one. She’d grown up being read to in that window nook, jumping on that massive bed, and hiding under the great writing desk that sat before the picture window nearly every time she would play hide and seek. Derek always knew where to find her, but she never changed hiding spots because she liked how he would laugh and tease her when he found her, time and time again.

The valet claimed that Katherine had requested the suite be “freshened up” as she gifted it to her daughter, but Jaina could still only see her parents’ quarters in it for how little it had been changed.

“Everything is perfect,” she lied. “Please tell the staff they have my thanks for their hard work.”

“Of course,” the valet said.

She did not know his name yet. He was younger than the average crusty butler type, maybe her age. He would have been a boy when she left. Well, when she was made to leave. When she was shipped away, kept from her mother’s alternating fits of tears and coldness and nothing in-between, and a father who didn’t know what to do with a daughter who had inherited a wild magic that scared him. A father who missed his son, and wouldn’t look at her for all the pain in his eyes when he saw she wasn’t Derek.

She wondered then, if this nameless man ever had to look up at his father at the tender age of ten, and try to think of a way to apologize for not being what he wanted. If he ever had to beg to stay, and not be sent off to the continent to court a future king that would go on to ruin the world instead of ruling it, and study a magic that everyone he’d ever known had treated with equal parts fear and reverence, but mostly the former.

“That will be all,” Jaina said, not wanting to ask.

She also wanted him gone for other reasons, namely that she was tired of carrying around a bag of coffee in her coat and needed to be rid of it, lest she stink like a Thalassian cafe for the rest of the afternoon.

The valet nodded, finally taking his leave. He’d left Jaina by the picture window, overlooking the harbor, standing beside her father’s desk.

It was there she finally relieved herself of the coffee. After all these hours. She tossed the bag onto the polished mahogany, just missing the desk calendar that had, indeed, been refreshed. It was empty, at least. It wouldn’t stay that way for long.

“I don’t understand,” she said to the sea below.

It didn’t say anything back.

Her skull still vibrated with an anxiety that was not hers. Perhaps because a response had not been returned to it. Not from Jaina or the Alliance. Not yet.

But Jaina still didn’t understand.

“What happened to you?” she asked.

She asked it of a memory that wafted on the smell of coffee throughout the day. Of a woman who was as gone as Derek, as dead as him, yet now had chosen to stir to life and ask for understanding, ask for forgiveness.

Jaina had neither to give. The realization of it hit her as she watched the guards pry the lid off of that black coffin earlier. Sylvanas had sought out Derek’s body. She’d had it for a reason.

The reason had likely not been to broker a ceasefire. Jaina knew then, as she saw her brother’s corpse, that Sylvanas had likely meant to raise him. To make him fight his family, just as she had been made to fight hers.

But something had changed. Everything had changed.

And all Jaina had to go off of was the smell of coffee that still lingered in her coat, and a request she couldn’t even fathom entertaining.

A knock stirred Jaina from further questions and pondering at their answers. Because this day could just not allow her to have a singular moment of peace. No one could allow her to just…think.

“Enter,” was all she could manage to say without it dissolving into a groan of frustration.

She’d expected another staff member or guardsman or messenger, not the soft click of her mother’s boot heels on the floor of the room she’d given up not just that morning.

“I see you’ve made it up here,” Katherine noted as Jaina turned to face her, finding her cold composure back in place and ready to be questioned on whether it had slipped at all.

“I did. I just got the tour from…” Jaina started, then realized she’d never asked the valet’s name even to forget it.

“Barnbury,” Katherine answered for her. “Albert Barnbury. His father sailed with yours for decades, but Albert is much more inclined to his books than to the sea.”

“Thank you,” Jaina replied. She did not remember Albert or his father.

“You still have no head for names, I see,” Katherine remarked.

“I’m afraid not,” Jaina confirmed. Rather than stewing in yet another inadequacy, she turned back to face the harbor and said, “You didn’t have to give me the suite.”

“It was the proper thing to do,” Katherine told her.

“It doesn’t matter to me.”

“It matters to me.”

There was a finality in Katherine’s statement that made the matter done and settled there and then. Not that it already wasn’t. Jaina’s belongings were in trunks on the floor, after all. All that she still kept with her, and felt she could bring home the Kul Tiras fit in two sea chests--mostly full of clothes. The rest she could conjure, portal back to, or have made new for her. Such was the life of an Archmage.

No, a Lord Admiral now, lest she forget.

Katherine’s heels clicked a few times more, until she was up at the desk, just behind Jaina.

“What’s this?”

Jaina turned to find her mother holding the bag of coffee grounds, puzzling over the strange letters on it. It occurred to her then that as sharp as her mother was, she could not read Thalassian, and had no such use for the language of the elves. She did not learn magic from them. She did not write love letters to an elf. She did not, after all those things, feel the need to keep herself sharp in their ways in order to intercept any intelligence from a once-ally, now enemy faction.

“A gift,” Jaina answered, because it wasn’t a lie, and that was easier somehow.

Katherine’s steely eyes pried for more as she looked away from the label.

“From Alleria,” Jaina lied, because that was as good as she could come up with.

Alleria, who was not allowed into Silvermoon, when the bag plainly read “Silvermoon Special Reserve Roast” for anyone who could read it to see. Alleria, who did not like coffee. Alleria, who did not like Jaina very much either, and had eyed her with distrust from the moment she set foot back in Stormwind, no doubt having been prepared by her sister to understand what Jaina was to her, and was not again, in the time she had been gone from this world.

“She sent it to apologize for yesterday,” Jaina continued.

Alleria, who did not apologize for anything. Jaina needed to just stop talking.

“I see,” Katherine said. “Elven coffee? I’ve never had it.”

“I’ll make you some,” Jaina offered, taking the bag, and cursing her mother’s demanding eyes and her own mouth.

Cursing still as she watched her wince when Jaina lit the fireplace with a snap of her fingers, and set a kettle over it. The same kettle, probably, that Katherine had brewed her very first cup of tea in, for all its well-worn brass glory. Jaina wasn’t so sure it was the magic that made her mother’s composure falter, or the profaning of Kul Tiran tradition.

But still, Jaina’s hands went nervously to work as Katherine gathered herself again.

“I understand the High King wishes to meet with you regarding the Alliance’s response to the ceasefire,” Katherine noted, her voice still resounding through the vast room in a way that told Jaina she had not moved from the desk.

She turned to find her with one hand on the dark wood. Anchored there like a ship in a storm, needing something to hold fast to.

Jaina felt even worse about taking the room, despite her lack of choice in the matter. “He does.”

“And you told him you’d speak to him tomorrow,” Katherine said.

“I did.”

Jaina turned back and conjured herself some coffee filters of the elven variety--little paper cones for each cup, which the grounds would go into, and wait patiently for hot water to be poured over them. No doubt such things did not exist in Kul Tiras, and could not be asked for otherwise.

She’d told Anduin tomorrow because she needed time to think today. She needed Valeera to come back. She needed Katherine to leave her alone for once. She needed to have a good long cry about Derek where no one could see her. And damn, she needed some whiskey with this coffee, but she was pretty sure that she and Valeera had just about drained her flask from the night before.

“You are stalling,” Katherine said blatantly.

Jaina turned to find her unmoved, staring at her.

“And why would you say that?” Jaina asked.

“This Windrunner woman. Their Warchief. I…we’ve never talked--no,” Katherine grip on the desk tightened, and no doubt her knuckles would have been stark white if Jaina could have seen them up close. “That’s not correct. You never told me much of her.”

“There is nothing to tell,” Jaina said.

“You loved her,” Katherine pointed out. “Very much. That’s all I remember of your letters from that time.”

“Yes, that time. A long time ago, mother,” Jaina pointed out, turning back as the kettle began to whine from the accelerated blaze she had set beneath it.

She moved to find a spoon in the little sideboard near the hearth--same drawer as they’d always been in, and began to measure out coffee into the filters she’d set into two mugs on the same sideboard. “A very long time ago,” Jaina said to the lingering silence.

“Yes, of course,” Katherine replied after another breath, a moment or two of hissing coffee grains sliding over paper. “She died. Then she wasn’t dead. Now she leads the same Horde we have fought for over thirty years and continued to fight. That Derek died fighting. That your father died fighting.”

“What do you mean to ask, mother?” Jaina said. “I know all of these things. I know them as deeply and painfully as you do. Don’t forget that I have you to thank for being made to relive them all quite recently.”

“Why does he ask you, then, what to do? This king? This boy?” Katherine questioned.

Jaina didn’t know the answer. She wanted to think of it as being a diplomatic stage that Anduin knew she would field better than he could. And while that was all true and good, these days, he wanted peace far more than she did. He did not need her help in asking for it.

So Jaina decided to tell her mother the truth. Or at least, what she thought might be the truth. “They think I know her still, that I know why she’s changed her tactics. That I know what she means to do.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

The word left her lips numb. It rocked a wave of frustration that crashed against Sylvanas’ anxiety in the back of her mind. But the anxiety did not waver or buckle from it. Instead, it seemed to grow stronger.

Jaina had maybe, once, known what her cocky Ranger General would do or say. She’d come to understand her quite well for how little time they were able to spend together. They’d made up for it in letters, and in their quiet but undeniable presence in one another’s minds and deeper feelings.

Jaina had loved the way Sylvanas was full of life and emotion back then. Even if her face didn’t always show it. She wore decorum as her mask like any elf of high station, but was funny and quirky beneath it. A woman full of corny jokes and wide smiles and fiddling hands that always seemed to be busy with some made up task. Like making coffee.

She’d been so different from her, but so much the same. So irrevocably intertwined despite it all that Jaina caught herself tapping the spoon on the edge of the mug to clean off the last of the grounds just like she’d learned from Sylvanas all those years ago, with hands that longed to find something to do because she couldn’t find the words to define this moment, this tension that coiled in her like a bowstring, ready to snap.

An anxiety that was not her own, but had molded and shaped hers, like it once had, years and years ago.

“And what will you tell him, then, tomorrow?” Katherine asked.

The kettle hissed and hissed. Water spat out onto the stacked logs that Jaina had unnaturally ignited into a too hot blaze. The coffee grounds she hovered over smelled bitter and wonderful at the same time. Nostalgia mixing with dread. Uncertainty battling against the known.

“I don’t know,” Jaina said.