A/N

I know I'm behind my usual schedule, but this chapter threw obstacles in my path I didn't expect. LOL. The events of 8.2 take their course as we slowly head into surprises, confessions and decisions. I hope you enjoy!

I owe a heartfelt thank you to Taedae and Windcage, and Chaossu who poked me to get this chapter done. ;-)

Another thank you:

Jaybird9876 - No, let me tell you: I haven't given up this story! I was devastated about 8.2.5 but the battle is almost here, so there's that. The next chapters are planned out, the only thing I haven't decided is if I take the story into the Shadowlands-storyline or not, but time will tell. This one is not about sex and feelings LOL but about action and feelings. Hehe.

Arian Penmage - Please don't be anxious! ;-) As I mentioned earlier, sometimes RL keeps me from writing/editing/rewriting, but my muse found back to me which I am very grateful for. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint, too, even though it is mostly about events that lead into my next main chapter. Thank you for leaving a review. It means a lot! :-)

Mysterious-I - Ohhh someone who understands! You are a writer as well? (Excuse my ignorance, after I posted, I will take a look.) Thank you for the "doing a good job", I hope this chapter is to your liking, too! Sylvanas' inner turmoil isn't over which leads to some... steps taken. (Especially in the next chapter! Ha, teasing you. Let's see what you have to say, then!)

Hihihi8 - I am glad that you let me know that you are still reading (which means you like it?!). Can I ask for more reasons why you do so? I am a very curious writer, you must know. And to get feedback from the readers become a rare game, nowadays. Unfortunately. Which means I am glad about everything even if it is one line. Thank you!

Tamerlan110 - I AM ALIVE! YEAH! Thank you for not giving up on me! So happy to see that you follow Chaossu on VK! (I love his work about our beloved pairing!) LOL it is very "savage" from you to compare WoW with Star Wars, but there are some parallels nowadays, I have to admit. I am looking forward to read what you have to say about this chapter, there's more plot in it to catch up with the next events. BTW, I always wanted to ask you if your pen-name is inspired by the famous central-asiatic military leader Timur or by the movie Дневной дозор?

Stonehazeh - I can't tell you how happy I was to read a comment from you! I hope you are doing fine in these erratic times, and I also hope you savor this chapter bit by bit each night, too. Though there's no direct exchange between the main pairing, we have other pairings here that I pray are to your liking. Let me know, please. Even one sentence is enough (among how you keep up!). 3

Maggie - Thank you for your review! I do intend to keep updating it and won't abandon it (I want a happy end for Anduin and Sylvanas, too!), and now that my muse found back to me I hope I can keep you entertained over the summer. Until we know what Shadowlands is about, I hope to have the next 2 chapters ready. May I ask how come you like my fic so much? Is it the pairing? The story? Anything else? Please, let me know! :-)

ORGRIMMAR, in the evening

Sylvanas was stunned after Anduin left the Lighthouse in Havenswood. She had a hard time coming down from the emotional uproar, the banshee in her wanting to screech, but she oppressed it with her full will. It took some time before she made her way back to the coast, where she spotted the 'Banshee's Wail' under Dread Admiral Tattersail. And the one look she sent to her ship's captain before she ordered to set sail for Orgrimmar made the forsaken captain react immediately and stop asking questions.

It was late in the afternoon when they reached Bladefist Bay Port. Sylvanas, still stunned and silent when she got off the ship, ordered to walk to the Horde's capital city instead of flying. Realizing that she was steering towards the same hole and the same break she went through when Valeera had taken leave and was beyond her control, she needed that walk to regain her icy calm to confront all that awaited her.

Yet, Sylvanas' mind wasn't distracted by the dry and rusty landscape around her, though it had beauty, especially in the low sun, conjuring a range of amazing colors. Her mind was instead plagued with never-ending thoughts about Anduin. The longing for him lasted and overtook her piece by piece, being so deep, she still felt it physically and was in desperate pain because of it. Never had she felt more mortal and, at the same time, more alive than in yesterday's rainy night!

Anduin. She tried to understand herself, tried to grasp what it was that made her helpless when it came to him. She tried to understand why her undead body burned when he touched her. Did she revive those feelings because they were in her mind as if she would trace old patterns? Or were they indeed in her body, which meant her warrior's heart wasn't as cold as she always thought it to be? Did the theory of him being a light-wielder explain why every time he touched her, some part of his light touched her, too? And made her body alive so she felt it? But the Light, in general, was agonizingly painful and destructive to the undead! Sylvanas closed her eyes for a short moment. Facts proved theories, and she was well aware of her subjective experience with Anduin when they made love.

Was it... his love? His honest, true, and abiding love? Was there magic at work she had lost touch with the moment she died? Was it through Anduin that she was told... she had not been forgotten about? Sylvanas had been an elf once, and she had known about the ways of nature. Of the magic that was in it. Of the power of touches and communicating with her surroundings. She was once used to freely practicing and excelling in the energies of life. It all had died when she died. Why did she reflect on things now that she could never change?

And why did they linger in her, the emotions connected to life that caused nothing but never-ending pain? Why didn't they go away?

No, not even her wildest dreams could have revealed that the young king would have the power to make her reach the lowest point in her long existence. Hell, what had gotten into her? What was she to do besides follow the plans she set in motion a long time ago? Why had Anduin thrown her back from undeath into life with emotions, feelings, and yearnings? All that she strived to protect her Forsaken from – yet it hit her the deepest. And now that the young king was gone, what was left of her undead being? Sylvanas recognized the hurt and the truth in his words. Somehow you sound like you're saying goodbye. It wasn't just a passing moment, all those emotions that rumbled through her like a thunderstorm; she had to accept they would last and hurt her forever. She gritted her teeth.

Numb, she walked through the impressive Gates of Orgrimmar, blind to all the looks she earned when the people noticed their Warchief walked among them, straight into Grommash Hold, pale as ever, but deadly silent.

If she had no luck – angry at herself, she interrupted her train of thought. Had she ever, recently? She wasn't able to save her Forsaken by failing to enslave Eyir. She wasn't able to save Varian Wrynn, whom Anduin missed badly. She saved Vol'jin, only to watch him die shortly after, making her Warchief of the Horde. Pulling her from the shadows, where she wanted to remain, to the spotlight. And she wasn't able to win the war to save the Horde! She sacrificed Teldrassil, and even though she told that young Night elf warrior who reminded her a lot of herself that she could kill hope, the recent events showed more than obvious that she could not. And hadn't a part of her deep down hoped that – if even nobody had saved her – Elune would at least do that for the Night Elves?

She shook her head. Yes, if she had no luck, the young king, too, would lay dead in front of her. Sylvanas cursed herself again when rage, resentment, and hatred captured her, emotions so familiar as the outburst of fury at life that stood in her way but had granted her a chance in the form of Anduin, nevertheless.

Amidst all those feelings which threw her, the one of loss overtook in its strongest form. The intensity made her stumble, made her look for support to lean on to survive her cursed existence that had nothing to offer but pain. A want to drop to her knees in front of the throne of Grommash Hold took hold because the pain was so ferocious. She hadn't felt something like it in ages, not since Arthas stabbed her and tore the very essence out of her body. Sylvanas was close to tears. Hell, why did it have to be Anduin, he of all people on Azeroth, who got under her skin?

"You are late, my queen."

The dark, familiar voice made her freeze in the middle of the Throne Room. She hadn't paid attention, had she?

Sylvanas took a moment before she turned her head to the side. "My champion."

He watched her silently, and she didn't know whether it was due to his usual patience or whether he had seen the way she faltered into the Hold. She closed her eyes and let his quiet undead presence seep into her inner turmoil until she could carry on properly. "You have my attention."

"I have bad news."

"Speak plainly, Nathanos."

"I just came back from a talk with one of our loyalists. It seems –" he hesitated, "it seems Lor'themar showed his true colors, at last." He shook his head. "Our loyalist told me he said, Baine Bloodhoof represents all that is best in the Horde. We cannot stand by and let his light be snuffed out."

A snort was Sylvanas' only reply while thinking of Lor'themar Theron, even though she had taken his reaction into account, too. Yet, bitterness overcame her. They had been friends. They had been comrades in arms. Why did it change? Theron's wavering loyalty hurt her. Why not to her but his people only? People who had been just like her once. People... She sneered. Why had Varian Wrynn's son, an enemy, come close to her when all others who were much closer to her by blood and heritage hadn't done so? Her pale brows drew together in a terrible frown, anger flaring brightly inside her. What would the high Regent-Lord of Silvermoon think if Anduin announced one day that they were officially dating? It would be interesting to see where Theron's loyalty would be, then!

He must have read her angry expression perfectly because Nathanos continued. "A pity he has sided with Baine, but I am not entirely surprised. This is not his first betrayal," he attested. "I ordered our loyalist to play along, for now, to be able to send word ahead. These traitors are in for a surprise once they reach Bloodhoof!"

"You did well, my champion," Sylvanas agreed. "The Horde knows the execution of my order for his punishment wouldn't take long. But I already took precautions. I placed some of my Dark Rangers there, and Magister Hathorel promised me to pay attention to anyone who nears the Tauren."

Nathanos remained silent for another while before Sylvanas, who wanted to be left alone, asked, "Is there something else?"

"I do not know where you have been for so long, my queen," Nathanos replied calmly. "Words reached Orgrimmar that you arrived by ship only this afternoon. And that you walked back here. If that is the case, I wish to know what made you do so. Is there a cause for more concern?"

The chaos in her was back. She did not know what had made him ask about her conduct. She wasn't used to be doubted by him. "Do you question me again, my champion?" She turned to him, and her glowing eyes widened slightly the moment she saw him kneeling.

"My queen –" He glanced at her.

The situation became serious. "Nathanos?"

"My queen, do you not trust me to be as loyal as ever?"

She watched him silently and waited for him to carry on.

"You told me you had been absent for a while because of memories haunting you. You said your dedication had returned. That you would find another path for us..."

"I know what I said to you, Nathanos," Sylvanas hissed. "And you know all about my plans upon plans! All I ask of you is a bit of the patience you seem to lack in recent times, and I wonder why?"

"My queen, what are you saying? It is not my patience that is lacking." He frowned. "There was an arrow in your quiver..."

"I do not want to hear of things that are none of your business," she snarled, her body taut as a bowstring. She turned away from him. Her champion noticed the arrow that was Anduin's gift? How? She chose to overlook it and willed to calm herself down while gazing at the Warchief's throne. "I have something else for you to do which is of highest priority, my champion. As you know, it is time to get the next plan into action. And you will do so with the 'Blade of the Black Empire' we got recently acquired. Is that understood, Nathanos?" She should do something not only to keep her Champion distracted but the Alliance as well. And perhaps the rest of the Horde, before the next step was taken. Before Saurfang went into action, most likely.

"Yes, my queen."

He sounded too calm, and Sylvanas was pushed back into her inner chaos. Despair threatened to overwhelm her, so she hastened to carry on. "We both spoke about many possibilities some time ago. I need you to take that blade and the remaining Zandalari ships and set sail. It will guide you to the Rendezvous place. I'll make sure the spies of the Alliance keep up with it. And I'm pretty certain they will follow you, so make sure to do it properly. You will take the 'Banshee's Wail' immediately. It's still at anchor in Bladefist Bay Port and waiting for you."

Nathanos stood and bowed. "As you wish, my queen."

And when he finally left, Sylvanas knew she couldn't take any more risks – and yet, to slip one more night into Anduin's bed, to be on his side, to feel his warmth and his love, it was worth each risk.

OFF THE SHORE OF DUROTAR

Nathanos paced the deck of the 'Banshee's Wail', taking the ship back to the Port of Zandalar to meet with the Horde's champion, just as Sylvanas advised him. There, the warships were ready to embark, and the key to victory over the Alliance was hopefully within their grasp. What they did next... they did for the Horde, he told himself.

But what was left for him after their victory? Again he had felt how his queen, his 'guiding light', slipped from his grasp. The way she stumbled into Grommash Hold as if she was close to breaking down, shocked him to the core. And next to that, the arrow was missing. The arrow, his only piece of evidence to prove that she had ties to... a third party, of which he knew nothing of besides that it caused a change of her usual behavior.

Nathanos closed his eyes for a moment. Did she not understand that he wondered why she kept her secrets? For there had been none between them before? Why was he excluded? Had he to show it more and more plainly how much he worried?

He was troubled by the vain attempt to be able to talk about and hold the evidence in his hand – which could have dealt a deathblow to his queen being contested because it begged the obvious question as to why the Warchief of the Horde owned an Alliance crafted piece – and he tried to search for another proceeding. Had he, therefore, no other choice than to ask the Alliance what that arrow meant?

He spent his time immersed in questions. Had it been about a message that was sent? If that was the case, who among the scum of the other faction would perhaps know about such a message?

The answer outlined itself: Spymaster Shaw was the only name that shot through his head. Then, Areiel and the secret whispers between her and his queen snuck into his thoughts as well. He hadn't seen the Ranger Captain much, she was busy in Kul Tiras. What else could she have been tasked with and he not? Dark Rangers served as Sylvanas' bodyguards. As generals for the Forsaken armies. As elite scouts and assassins... Had it been, in the end, about a failed assassination attempt? If that was the case, why hadn't his queen assigned him with it?

Either way, Shaw would know about it. And it didn't cost anything to ask or stir up some confusion within the Alliance! With a grim smile, Nathanos was suddenly determined to take a short detour to Kul Tiras before setting out for Nazjatar. He knew where he most probably would find Shaw. If his queen wasn't inclined to answer, he had to turn to other, more drastic measures to get it. And as bitter as it was for him, the Spymaster of the Alliance was his only hope left. His whole... not his loyalty, no, never that, but his inner-self was dependent on it.

ORGRIMMAR, underground, midnight

The fortified complex – guarded by stout walls, massive gates, and tall towers, the shadows of the mountainous ranges of northern Durotar forming a natural barrier to the rear of fortress, and parts of the complex that were carved into the mountain itself – was a mixture of beauty and terror in front of Jaina. The night was illuminated by the pale moonlight.

Do I really want to be here? She pondered, not for the last time. But then she wiped all her doubts away and thought of Baine, who brought Derek back to her. She owed him. And even Anduin urged her to free him and had given his consent.

It was awfully quiet outside, and she threw a short side glance at Mathias Shaw, the spymaster, and the champion of the Alliance, who both stood next to her. "Ready?"

They nodded.

"I can port us to a locked-off room, where we may only deal with Goblins and their Azerite creations."

"I told you, Lady Proudmoore, I'm all in for a subtle approach," Shaw murmured.

"Then hold on to me, Master Shaw. Champion of the Alliance? Here we go." Jaina concentrated on the teleportation, and they landed in a small corridor full of lights that they had to traverse. Azerite creations were all around and Jaina was simply glad Mathias was of a quick reaction and tried to walk them through it with the help of the Alliance's champion. No time for admiring those creations when Shaw directed them to a wooden gate that was locked. "She's holding Baine in the halls deep beneath Orgrimmar. This way!"

Jaina and the Champion waited as best as they could when they heard a Goblin's voice on the other side. "I promise you're gonna love this surprise, Pookie!"

Shaw hurried. "Just need a moment to get this gate open."

Another Goblin answered. "Aw, I always love your surprises, honey bun."

Jaina lost patience. "Someone's on the other side." Nodding at the Champion, they prepared for the moment the gate unlocked, and when it opened, one of the off-duty Mech Jockeys said, "What the – who are these clowns? The Alliance? Awww... this ain't gonna be good!"

Jaina quickly flung shards of ice at the targets, but Shaw shook his head.

"Damn. They'll sound the alarm when they thaw."

Jaina's only response was while running, "Baine might not have that long. Come on!"

BORALUS, KUL TIRAS in the early morning

Shaw was dead tired when Jaina teleported them back to Kul Tiras. Having faith in her to speak to Anduin alone – she had asked him for it, adding she had another personal topic to talk about with the young king – he slowly walked through the city from Proudmoore Keep to his local headquarters, looking forward to his bed.

Here, contrary to the green, verdant plains of Mulgore, dawn just began, the shadows in the empty and quiet streets still there, the last drunk Kul Tirans already in bed, the first ones not up yet. It was a cold morning and Shaw shivered, the wind coming down from the snowy mountains doing nothing to ease his mind. The bad smells from the street, a mixture of fish, oil and alcohol, and the ships lying in the port, a mixture of salt and wet wood, didn't make it better. Even though they rescued Baine Bloodhoof, the spymaster continuously asked himself what else awaited the Alliance. Since when had the Warchief of the Horde become so unpredictable? Since when those inside his own faction, for example, Tyrande Whisperwind? Tired and deep in thought, he noticed a shadowy figure with glowing red eyes that grabbed him and pulled him into a side entrance of a small alley only in the last second and didn't offer much defense.

Fear didn't grip him so much as surprise because the other person let go of him immediately, and rasped with a deep voice, "Do not test me, Shaw."

Damn, he hadn't expected the Warchief's champion here. Gathering his wits together but remaining where he was, Mathias watched him cautiously. The undead human wanted to talk, otherwise, he would have been dead already. "I thought I saw you glance in my direction, Blightcaller."

They continued to watch each other with distrust, however, Mathias was exhausted and wanted to get it over with. "We have little time to waste. What is required?"

Nathanos hesitated for a long time. Seeing that Shaw waited patiently, he seemed to push himself. "An answer."

Shaw frowned, still mulling over the fact that it was the Warchief's champion who sought him out at this time. "I can't give an answer where no question is posed."

With glowing red eyes, Nathanos leaned his way. "The arrow," he hissed.

Thankful for his discipline and instincts, Shaw hid his surprise behind humor. "An arrow... as in ammunition for bows and crossbows?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Shaw."

The spymaster shook his head. He didn't need to feign ignorance. "You lost me."

That pulled a reaction from the snarling undead human. "It was a masterpiece. One even I could tell came from Stormwind's best craftsmanship! So make it quick and explain."

Mathias stared at him. "You don't seriously believe that I know what you're talking about, Blightcaller."

Nathanos' apparent frustration with the situation made him growl. "Of course I don't. It's obvious that the spymaster who knows about everything has no clue what I'm talking about."

Mathias continued staring at him for one moment, knowing the Warchief's champion to be deadly serious. Which meant he voluntarily shared important information? His thoughts somersaulted, so he stepped in the way of the undead human who turned to leave, wanting clarification. An arrow from the Alliance in the Horde's hands, for Blightcaller to be here it meant it must have reached the hands of the Warchief herself? Who would have access to such a thing?

"Maybe it came from someone of Stormwind's nobility?" Mathias suggested. "Or could the Defias be working with the Horde – aside from you and me knowing?"

Nathanos frowned. "The Defias?"

"It's the only organization among Stormwind Nobles," Mathias mentioned ironically, taking a shot in the dark, "that would possess enough courage to talk to the Warchief in person without getting killed by you."

Silence fell between them.

"Your king does still live, does he not?" The Blightcaller snorted.

"You mean it as in an assassination attempt? The Horde employing one of our arrows so it would look like an internal coup?" Mathias' eyebrows shot up. "Then – if it was one – it has gone wrong, it seems." Would that explain the numerous presence of Dark Rangers in Stormwind? He watched the Champion while crossing his arms. "How come, Blightcaller, we both didn't know of it? You're in the dark here just as I am, admit it."

Nathanos leaned forward. "At least I try to get this secret lifted."

"Doesn't your warchief talk to you?" Shaw taunted him.

"Does your king?" Nathanos retorted.

"In times like these? Are you always in two places at one time, Blightcaller?"

"No," Nathanos shook his head. "I wish, though," he suddenly added.

Mathias was puzzled. Wasn't he the only one who was sometimes driven nuts by the secrecy of his young king? Was it the same for the Warchief's champion? They eyed each other in the beginnings of mutual awareness. Who would have thought the Spymaster of the Alliance and the Champion of the Banshee Queen had something in common?

It supported Shaw's following question. "What did the arrow look like?"

The undead human seemed to have come to a decision. "Light-weight. A long shaft of red-blue feathers for best flight characteristics. Steel finish," Nathanos offered. "Human handicraft tradition, undoubtedly."

Shaw nodded, the description somehow familiar to him. "I'll see what I can do."

STORMWIND KEEP, in the morning

As soon as Anduin was told that Jaina had arrived in Stormwind Keep – happy to postpone another meeting with the House of Nobles – he ran to her. Usually, he kept to his majestic stride while walking through Stormwind City, but today, he couldn't. He had been on pins and needles the whole night and needed a human soul to talk to. When he finally arrived at the Throne Room, looking for her, he was told Jaina had gone to the Royal Library with a bunch of kids.

And thus, he found her, exactly as he was told. For a moment, he just stood there and watched fascinated how ten kids, lying on the ground and listening, surrounded her. She sat on a stool and was reading from one of the books from the children section. Anduin, knowing all about those, remembered that it was about a dragon and a human who befriended each other and shared many adventures. It was a long time ago when he had played 'hide and seek' there, to avoid reprimands from certain people. He had hidden behind the big bookshelves, still knowing all of them by heart. His father, Lady Prestor, even Bolvar Fordragon, all had searched for him there and never found him.

Jaina finally saw him and smiled while she continued reading. And the way she smiled at him... he immediately knew more had happened. It wasn't a sad smile, so it must be something good? He patiently waited until she was done, only to step forward with a bigger smile. "I remember well that you used to read some books to me, too."

Jaina winked at him and sent the kids away to school, promising to do some more reading when she returned to Stormwind soon. Yet, they only left when Anduin told them to stop by the kitchen and go for cookies before they left. With a grin, she turned to him. "You loved it. And I remember the cookies, too."

Anduin only laughed. It seemed so far away, that time. His father still alive... his laugh changed to a sad smile, but he didn't lose it.

She observed the change in him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Anduin..."

He continued smiling while he looked in her eyes. "I'm alright, Jaina. As are you? Let's take a walk outside. Too many ears in here."

Without battling a whimper, she went to his side. "Let's go, Anduin." She linked arms with him and they slowly walked in step out to the royal garden area. Anduin waited with keen interest before she began to speak, the memories still so vivid as if she was reliving them.

She hastened with Shaw and the Alliance's champion through Orgrimmar's underground to be in time to save Baine. Hence, the shock was great when she saw three figures running towards her the same way, and her heart told her who one of the three was. She couldn't hinder herself calling out for him, her heart beating fast. "Thrall."

It seemed he was as surprised as her when he stopped and looked at her, rapping out with an almost tender voice: "Jaina." So many unspoken feelings lay in him saying her name, that had Jaina close to tears.

Varok Saurfang, hooded and next to him, came to a stop as well. "The Alliance? Here?"

Mathias Shaw halted beside her. "Our king sent us to rescue his friend."

"We too have come to save Baine." Thrall had never lost Jaina from his sight while he answered. Her eyes on his, she stepped closer to him. The situation forced one solution, and she enunciated her words very clearly to avoid misunderstandings. "His odds will improve if we work together." Her eyes begged the Orc, who once was her best friend, to say yes.

Thrall threw a short glance at Varok who nodded. "Hmm... Agreed."

Mathias hadn't given them much time to dwell on other things. "Time is short. Let's move."

And so, all of them continued running, paving the way, finally finding Baine in many chains in the middle of a very big hall, leaving them all shocked. "Baine!"

The tauren, seemingly in pain, recognized the figures coming for him. "Th... Thrall? Jaina?" He breathed a sigh of relief.

The spymaster, not wasting any time, rushed toward one massive stone ball Baine was chained to and immediately started working on freeing the tauren. "These chains are warded against magic. I'll need time to pick the lock."

They teamed up in such a position that Baine and Shaw were protected against any risk coming from the hall's entrance. Saurfang looked suspiciously around and snorted. "This feels wrong. Sylvanas must have known we were coming." He was right. Only seconds later, the voice of Magister Hathorel, a blood elf, spoke to them. "Indeed she did, traitor! You and Lady Proudmoore."

Jaina didn't know the elf in person who stood in front of them. He was accompanied by two of Sylvanas' dark rangers. "I have no quarrel with you!"

"Have you forgotten the purge of Dalaran, murderer?" The blood elf laughed. "Today, the Sunreavers will be avenged."

Jaina was determined to not let those people come anywhere close to Baine. "Then your vendetta is with me, and me alone!" Pointing her finger at them, to rile them up, she had spoken with a raised voice but the blood elf had denied her. "No! You will watch your friends die... just as I did!" And then, the fight started. "Rangers! Kill them all! For the Sunreavers!"

Like a well-oiled team, Thrall and Jaina took on the dark rangers who stepped in their way, while Saurfang battled against the Magister, roaring: "We will need an escape route once Baine is free!"

"I can get us out, but not while these crystals are blocking my teleportation spells," Jaina yelled back.

"Then we must destroy them. Go, champions!" The High Overlord, not one to hesitate long, urged both champions – of the Horde and the Alliance – to fulfill the request. Seeing that the Champions had their difficulties because another Horde mage complicated their task, Jaina hurried to help them. "I'll disrupt the shields protecting those mages. You destroy the focus crystals!" She acted quickly. "Over here! I'll bring down the shield of this one next!" Their task became easier when they succeeded, so she added moments later: "I can feel their spell weakening. We need to take down all four crystals!" And like a well-oiled team again, they suited the action to the word.

In the meantime, Shaw who worked with all the might of his spy knowledge, intervened in this matter. "I've got him free!"

Jaina went into action immediately, the blockade on her spells gone. "Stay close, I'll get us out –"

And with no hesitation, she teleported them all close to Thunder Bluff. Landing in such a peaceful place while the sun was setting, it was a relief, even though Jaina could bear no longer the quiet tension between Thrall and her. She stepped close to the edge of the cliff, out of reach, the thoughts tumbling in her head. It was unbelievable how smoothly they had worked together. For one goal. Why couldn't it have been that way before? So much misery. So much pain...

Anduin cut into her pause. "I'm relieved to hear you got them secured, Jaina."

"Secured?" She shook her head. "I'm not certain. Thrall mentioned that he thought Sylvanas might come and burn Thunder Bluff as she did with Teldrassil..."

Anduin was quiet for a moment. "I don't think the Warchief of the Horde will take such radical action, Jaina. – Jaina?" Just one look at her face showed that she was on the verge of crying. Anduin was full of worries and hastened to reassure her. "Is everything alright? You were successful, weren't you?"

"We were successful, Anduin," Jaina confirmed with an unsteady voice. "Baine is free. But at which price?"

He turned her toward him and took her hands gently in his, sensing there was more behind her question. "Won't you tell me what else has you so concerned?"

"Oh, Anduin." A tear streamed down her face. "You don't know what it meant to meet... Thrall." Silence followed her confession.

When Thrall had stepped beside her in Mulgore, her heart hadn't stopped racing. "Thank you," he began, "Baine would've died without your help."

"I couldn't let that happen."

"Nor could I," Thrall admitted with his deep, sonorous voice, sending shivers down her spine. "I refuse to fail him like I failed his father. I wish I could change it all: Cairne, Garrosh, Theramore... sometimes it feels like I did everything wrong."

So much time had passed. Slowly, Jaina turned to him. She still carried a yearning for him in her heart while hearing his list and his following conclusion. Sadness stood in her blue eyes. "We all have blood on our hands."

"And now," Thrall nodded, "Sylvanas will come. Thunder Bluff will burn. Just like Teldrassil."

Somehow, Jaina couldn't accept his words. "Once before, you and I stood side by side." Her eyes rested on him. "On the slopes of Mount Hyjal. That world tree did not fall because the Horde and the Alliance worked together." Her gaze wandered over to Shaw and Saurfang who both helped Baine to stand up.

"Horde! Alliance!" Thrall exclaimed desperately. "We've come to these crossroads, again and again, Jaina. And it always falls apart." He turned directly to her. "What's different this time?" Gazing down at her, looking straight into her eyes, searching for... a halt? Resolution? Confirmation? Or warmth? She openly replied to his gaze and laid her hand on his muscular bicep, letting him feel all of the warmth and trust she had in him. "We are."

The connection between them was back. The mutual understanding they always shared. And – the magic. As trustful as she was, he leaned down to her, his eyes never leaving hers. A sizzling atmosphere unfolded itself, its potential having both the human and the orc strongly in its grip, waiting only to be brought to bear fruit – when Jaina, smiling but aware of the others coming near, stepped back.

"I should go," she whispered hoarsely before turning to the others, and adding, "Anduin will want to know that Baine is safe."

Saurfang nodded toward her, a new respect in his eyes. "Tell your king... I want to meet him."

Anduin continued looking at Jaina, and tenderly squeezed her hands. "I won't need to search for Saurfang anymore, then, if he already confirmed my intent." He focused on her again and spoke in softer tones. "I hear so many feelings in your voice. Is Thrall the reason for you being in such a turmoil?"

She gazed at him. "Shouldn't you hate me for it? I haven't seen him for such a long time, and I won't forget about Kalecgos, but when I met him... I don't know... it was like nothing happened." She stopped and lowered her head. "And the way he said my name, the way he looked at me... as if..." A sob escaped her, and Anduin took her in his arms. Whispering, she carried on. "All from our early friendship was present. And how much I wished we wouldn't have remained there, Anduin! I wished for more! What I started to feel, by then, and I know Thrall did, too, because he told me. When other things happened," another sob followed, "we lost sight of each other, and only Baine's rescue mission brought us together now."

"Shhh, Jaina." Anduin caressed her and hugged her more tightly. "Everything will be alright."

Jaina accepted his embrace. "Will it, Anduin? I fear... it will never..."

He smiled while he searched with his left hand for a handkerchief in his blue-golden overcoat, and the moment he found one, he tenderly wiped her tears away. "I will only stop believing if I am forced to stand on another battlefield," he charmingly admitted to lighten both their moods.

A small smile flew over her face while she watched him, comprehending what he meant. "Forgive me, Anduin. Here I am, crying about a lost love which still walks the grounds of Azeroth, even though I know you lost yours for real, probably."

Was this the moment Anduin waited for? With the knowledge of Jaina feeling love for Thrall, a member of the Horde, after all these years? Would there ever appear a similar situation to tell his secret? He dreaded the moment coming near where he was forced to show his colors. Could he tell Jaina? In the end, his eyes must have revealed themselves.

"Anduin." She squeezed him, realization dawning in her face. "She's still... alive?"

He nodded, not able to speak a word, two souls battling in him.

"She gave up on you?"

No other apt remark could've hurt him more. Wasn't Jaina right? Tears stung his eyes, tormenting him as he thought of Sylvanas. His voice was rough. "No."

"Talk to me, Anduin," Jaina sounded worried. "You stopped, and I didn't insist. But I do now. Talk to me!"

He smiled a very tired smile. "You should know better than me what it means to love someone from the Horde, Jaina."

"I do," she confirmed. "Therefore let me know, Anduin. Share it with me."

"I longed to share so much, Jaina, but I fear..."

"...that I will judge you, as you told me before?" She finished his sentence. "But who could it be that I am to judge you for?" She carefully began to smile, teasing him with the first thing that came to her mind. "It must be the Warchief herself that could be the only one..."

The way he paled, held his breath, and his smile turned sad was telling enough.

"Anduin!" Jaina couldn't suppress her shocked outcry before she quickly caught herself. What on Azeroth had happened that he was in love with Lady Sylvanas Windrunner?! "How come?" she insisted, at a loss. "Anduin?"

He stood still, having his secret uncovered. "Do you really want to know, Jaina?"

"You asked me before. My answer this time is yes."

He sighed and turned his face away. "I'm not certain –"

"Does she love you, too?"

"I don't know, Jaina," Anduin answered after a while. "But I'll tell you how it happened."

She nodded. "Please."

And so Anduin told Jaina of Sylvanas with a low voice, walking with her over to the ledges that overlooked the Stormwind City outskirts. How they met in the Stockades after the battle of Lordaeron. How they started to talk. How he met her again in Stromgarde. How he saved Areiel, knowing it was her Dark Rangers' Captain. And how she found him in Vol'dun and suggested they met again. He told Jaina about their date in Ratchet, and that they kissed. And how she sent Areiel to him for another date, then Zandalar happened, and how he asked her to come to the Dark Fairie Moon to apologize after Turalyon encouraged him to do so, to get Sylvanas to admit that she had come to Zandalar for him. How she abducted him to Vol'dun, to seduce him, and that he first suspected it was payback for saving Areiel.

At this point, Jaina's mouth fell open, but she urged him to carry on.

Anduin blushed but told her how Sylvanas came to Stormwind and followed him to Thelsamar. And that this date confirmed that she felt it, too, that there was something more between them. Yet, there had been silence after the Battle of Dazar'alor, but she still came to Havenswood when her spies reported he was there. The last date fresh on his mind, he recounted how they argued, discussed, and made love afterward. And that it was her that had told him where Baine was held prisoner and offered to free him.

Jaina shook her head, perplexed, torn apart between smiling and scolding. But she saw Anduin's eyes brighten, saw his smile when he spoke about Sylvanas, and she listened to his wish for peace to be able to ask her to be with him, knowing it might never be possible and fearing that, instead, he would be forced to stand on a battlefield opposite her. Possibly sooner than expected. They both fell silent after he finished.

"Anduin, if I had only known..."

"Would it have made a difference?"

"You are still aware that the Warchief hasn't ended the war yet."

"I am, Jaina."

"So, what is the conclusion?"

Anduin clenched his fists but sounded determined. "We won't stop fighting for peace."

"You know what this means?"

"I do, Jaina."

She stared at him and recognized the sorrow in his eyes. "She knows about it, right? That you won't stop fighting her?"

"Yes." Anduin laughed out loud, though it was melancholy. "You know you really love someone when you can't hate them for breaking your heart."

Regret crawled in her voice. "Anduin..."

"I know what I've gotten myself into."

Instead of an answer, she just slid closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder the same moment her stomach rumbled.

Anduin was both grateful and a bit amused about the distraction. "How about breakfast, Lord Admiral Proudmoore?"

Jaina lifted her head and smiled at him. "I very much hoped you would offer one, your majesty. The answer is yes."

To Jaina's delight, they had Dalaran sharp, her favorite cheese, and apples from Stormwind's orchards, which Anduin sliced for her. They weren't able to enjoy their closeness for long while having a late but delicious breakfast, though. A messenger sent from Spymaster Shaw disturbed their cozy meal.

"News from Kul Tiras?" Anduin asked while eating but Jaina declined, reading what Spymaster Shaw had written aloud to him.

"So it seems," Anduin concluded, "that the Warchief of the Horde prepares a fleet from the Port of Zandalar to the high seas, led by her Champion alongside Lor'themar Theron and even First Arcanist Thalyssra?"

"Yes," Jaina nodded.

Anduin frowned, puzzled over the new events. Was that what Sylvanas hadn't told him? Or was it something else?

"I'm going to follow them, Anduin," Jaina decided, already placing her cutlery next to her plate. "The Kul Tiran fleet is ready to set sail."

"Not alone, Jaina," was the young king's immediate response. "You better –"

"Alright," Jaina grumbled but grinned. "I'll take Genn and the Alliance's champion with me. Happy?"

"Isn't Shandris Feathermoon in Boralus, too?"

"She is."

"Take her alongside with you to chase them," Anduin requested. "I wonder... what she has in store this time."

"We'll only know when we catch up with them." Jaina jumped off her chair and gave Anduin a peck on the cheek. "I know what must be done, Anduin. Have faith in me."

The young king sent her a smile before the teleportation spell caught her. "I hope to see you soon."

And then, as always, he was left alone.

ORGRIMMAR, GROMMASH HOLD, two days later

With Baine now one less among her problems since he was freed, and Nazjatar already going into action – Sylvanas had been informed of the Alliance fleet following her champion to the high seas – she had time to overthink some things, being back alone in Orgrimmar to prepare the next step. Unfortunately, it didn't go without thinking of Anduin. She cursed herself for it. Sometimes, it drove her close to madness.

How often did she ask herself now if she should find a way to end this war... for him, too? Sylvanas was tired of pointless ruminations. Her former plan, the one she made with Queen Azshara, would have ended the war in one way or another, but recently, she wasn't certain if it didn't have the opposite effect. Well, it wasn't going to change now.

The young king snuck back into her thoughts. And their meeting in Havenswood didn't let go of her. Refusing Anduin's togetherness and ignoring his proposal hurt more than she cared to admit. She shook herself mentally. What was she thinking? Wasn't it better to concentrate on how he would fit – hopefully – into her plan as well? To follow up on her next steps, she had to be free. Yet, why was it so hard?

She had survived so much, but the kind of heartache she was going through triggered so much pain inside of her. As old-fashioned as it sounded, there was no other way to name it. She closed her eyes. Where did this road go to? Why did she dread meeting him again on the battlefield? Was it because she knew that event wouldn't lead to something else? Both her living and her undead parts knew she had to choose one day. Wasn't there anything she could do? Why didn't she know what to do?

And just at that moment, she was reminded of how Alleria said to her, You were ever strong-willed, Sylvanas. You'll know what to do. - Alleria! Perhaps there was a solution.

Determined, Sylvanas summoned the one person she still placed a lot of her trust in.

Thus, it wasn't many moments later when Areiel, the Warchief's Dark Ranger Captain, hurried into Grommash Hold. She came in but halted for a moment because the throne room was darker than usual with fewer fires lit. Slowly, she finally came to a stop in front of the Warchief, who stood with her back to her. "Dark Lady."

"Good that you're finally here."

"What is it that you wish for?"

Sylvanas turned around and changed to Thalassian. "I have a special assignment for you."

Areiel stiffened, seemingly fearing for the worst but remained silent.

"I need you to sneak behind enemy lines and talk to my sister, Alleria."

"Alleria Windrunner?" With raised eyebrows, Areiel watched her Dark Lady.

"My champion told me that my sister is most likely to be found in Boralus, planning for the next Alliance mission," Sylvanas' voice sounded more abrasive as usual, "with the help of who knows." Forcing herself, she carried on. "I want to meet her tomorrow at midnight at my parents' place. Alone."

Areiel stood motionlessly. "Yes, Dark Lady."

"When you're done conveying the message, you'll report back to Orgrimmar, Areiel. Things will get... messy around here in the future, and I want you to be here and do the best you can."

Areiel frowned. "Messy?"

Sylvanas only nodded. "We'll talk about it when you're back. For now, hurry to Boralus."

"Dark Lady..."

Sylvanas stepped forward. "Areiel." Every time her Dark Ranger Captain was here, she was reminded of having the prospect of seeing Anduin, and it pained her to no end. No, she wasn't done with the young king, never had it been more obvious than at the moment. "Do not question me now."

In the way she said it, in the way she leaned toward Areiel, the glowing red eyes going dark, she tried to get the importance of it across to her Forsaken dark ranger. And Areiel seemed to understand.

"As you wish, Dark Lady."

RED ROCKS, MULGORE

The heavy rain over the naturally occurring red sandstone of northeastern Mulgore, which served as a peaceful and reflective site, a sacred burial ground for the tauren tribes, ensured that the two people meeting here were undisturbed.

"So, you have come."

The High King of the Alliance nodded toward the hooded figure. "To have a talk long overdue."

High Overlord Varok Saurfang only nodded back. A rocky overhang protected the human and the orc who stood here from the rain until one of them broke the silence.

"At Lordaeron, you had the chance to take my life. Maybe even end the war. Why didn't you kill me?" Anduin asked.

Varok scrutinized him and smirked. "Could kill you now..."

Anduin stepped closer to him. "I spared you because I believed you had honor. Was I wrong? Do you want more innocents to suffer? The Horde –"

Saurfang's outburst came fast. "The Horde?" He growled at the young king. "I have given everything for the Horde!" He clenched his fists. "I bled for it. Killed for it! And Sylvanas is destroying it. She will destroy everything!" He snorted while getting so close to Anduin, pinning him against the rocky wall, that they were face to face. "What I want is –" he harrumphed loudly, "my Horde back!"

Seemingly ashamed about his break-down, Saurfang stepped back and turned away from the young king, releasing him.

Yet, Anduin didn't want to let him off the hook, feeling that the answer to his previous question bore the ground of trust between them. Besides, he needed it. "Saurfang," he insisted, "tell me why you spared my life."

The silence between them stretched until finally, the old Orc murmured: "I hoped... you... would stop her."

So this was it? What he assumed all along? It proved they had a base they could fight with. It was the ground for hope of a better future. In one way or another, Anduin thought. "I can't," he replied sincerely. It wasn't that he hadn't tried anything, thinking of Havenswood. "Not alone."

Anduin would have loved to tell the High Overlord how he tried to convince the Warchief of the Horde to trust him and to end this war – and got caught up in loving her – but... failed. Even in Havenswood she had said 'no'. His heart ached, but it wouldn't do to dwell on it since another option was open now to reach for peace. A goal he had never lost sight of, besides still wanting to make her his, officially.

Saurfang took a deep breath. "So when I'll call for you to make a last stand against Sylvanas, will you come?"

Anduin nodded in earnest again. "I'll be there, High Overlord. On your side."

"You're not alone, young king. That's all you need to know for now."

The young human looked at the old orc who looked back, both determined, it seemed, to make a change.

WINDRUNNER SPIRE, GHOSTLANDS

The wind blew warm from the west coast of the Ghostlands, and only the moon penetrated the gloom of night when Alleria arrived, close to the former home of the Windrunners, stepping out of the Void portal. Still, she was drawn to that place like a moth to a flame. And wasn't she as haunted as the family's fallen spire?

"Alleria." Sylvanas stood not far away, having waited for her. Her dark cloak waved in the wind like a flag. But there was a smirk. A small one.

The elder sister sighed, her brow furrowed. "Lady Moon?"

Sylvanas looked away for a moment until Alleria came closer.

"What news do you have?"

The undead sister remained silent for a while, before she talked in that throaty, strangely echoing voice of hers. "I need you to promise me something."

Alleria watched her, torn between trusting and doubting her. She still had no clue as to how she could ever wear the mantle of the Warchief. But Sylvanas had asked for this meeting, so she had given in. Perhaps not all parts of her sister were a monster? "We each walk a line. Choose yours."

She wasn't prepared for Sylvanas' short outburst. "What joy is there in this curse? I am still undead, sister – still a monstrosity. What are we if not slaves to this torment?"

Alleria exhaled slowly, feeling that she owed her middle sister an answer. "You called me once an abomination. A mere vessel for the Void's power. To be in contact with it... the voices never stop. They push, they bully, they plead. They will not relent, not even for a moment. But I am stronger than the voices. I can glean their secrets and draw upon their strength. I cannot neglect my duty, Lady Moon." She tried to return to the issue. "Yet, here we both are, and you are my sister, after all. – Did you make a decision the last time?"

Sylvanas' attention returned. "I did, although it stands to question if it was the right one."

"The way you are standing here in front of me, I would say yes."

"I will find my own path in this world – but he... he doesn't deserve..."

The eldest Windrunner raised her eyebrows, astonished about her sister wrestling for words. "He?"

Sylvanas fell silent again, apparently battling with herself. The glowing red eyes intensified their color, and she clenched her fists.

Alleria stepped forward. "So, the decision was for him?"

"Yes."

"What does he not deserve?" Alleria inquired about details, pensive. "To walk your path?"

Sylvanas only nodded.

Drawing a conclusion wasn't easier for Alleria while she tried to tone down the voices in her head. "If you won't speak, Lady Moon, I can't make a promise. What about him?"

"He is not from the Horde."

The confession shocked Alleria to the core and even made the constant voices in her head fall quiet for a moment before they restarted again. She stared at her middle sister. "We do not speak of Nathanos."

"No."

Alleria made another step toward her, now only some inches from her away, pleading. "Have open words with me, Lady Moon."

Sylvanas closed her eyes to not see the soft expression in her beloved sister's face. "I've walked the realms of the dead. I have seen the infinite dark. But I can't have him follow my path. Will you protect him?"

"Protect him from what?"

"The Horde." Her undead sister reopened her glowing eyes and struggled visibly. "I, specifically, will wait for him once he comes to Orgrimmar. He is not prepared for that battlefield..." She made a significant pause. "Stop him going there, whatever it takes, Lady Sun."

It was so serious that Alleria, completely baffled about her sister, about them both, answered: "I am a sun no longer, Sylvanas. War is chaotic and savage. No matter what you witness – what you experience – you must never lose control. Do not let the shadows overtake your will, sister!"

Sylvanas eyes' rested on her, and the next words were brutally honest. "I am not yet ready to decide whether my will is to stop them or... let them win." After a pause, she resumed the talk. "So do you promise me to shield him?"

Who would move in front of Orgrimmar to fight her sister? Who? Alleria gasped when there was only one logical solution left, one she played within her mind once Turalyon spoke to her about Anduin's constant tries to get the Warchief of the Horde to talk to him, but had rejected it as utter nonsense. "Do we speak of Anduin, sister?"

It was a simple question, and Sylvanas' answer was just the same. "Yes."

A long silence followed.

Alleria didn't know what she should ask next. Between wanting to help and not knowing how far she was allowed to go to, she took her time for her answer. "If I swear to do what I can –"

Never before had she seen her undead sister so vulnerable when Sylvanas replied, barely audible: "I'll end the war."

ORGRIMMAR, GROMMASH HOLD

The turmoil inside Sylvanas grew stronger after meeting Alleria. Negative and positive emotions, both were present. She felt like a catapult permanently in use: thrown in the air, doing somersaults, and crash landing on the ground. The Banshee inside of her wanted to scream but couldn't. The rage and the hatred wanted to break out, but she fought it with all she could muster. And it was the same with her anxiety and fear of loss.

It was a good thing that her Champion wasn't around while she battled the two sides in her: the undead one and the living one. Had she done right by talking to Alleria? By relinquishing her well-kept secret? Should she have talked to Anduin, instead?

Some of Anduin's words were still in her ears. I did it for you, my lady. She's family to you. – I won't rip you of another family member. I simply do no such things because I would give my life to have my father back. Would she give hers to have the young king back? Didn't you tell me once that we will only end on a battlefield? Did her prophecy come true sooner rather than later? Would Alleria protect him?

The worries, the questions, and the doubts haunted her every day. Every night. A short flight in the air on her bat didn't help either because it was connected with precious memories. She felt two arms snaking around her waist. She felt warmth seeping through her body – even though Anduin wasn't there in person. The memory was enough to provoke too many emotions and leave her in agony. One moment she was happy, playing with the thought of having it all, of taking the risk, of reaching out and taking Anduin's hand, literally. The next moment she was furious, angry that she had stumbled upon every trap she wanted the boy-king to be trapped by – would the future get worse?

If there was one thing she was certain as never before, it was that Anduin had woken her from a state she had fallen in since Arthas... slew her. And wasn't it ironic – a young human king offered to help her out of the deepest water another young human king had plunged her into it?

Spies already reported her that Queen Azshara did her duties in Nazjatar. That High Overlord Saurfang recruited an army. And it was evident that Anduin and her would have that battle. It was inevitable. So what else was she to do? There was no answer to that question, and it nagged at her like rarely something ever had done.

She was broken by the overwhelming desire to see him. To feel him. His warmth, his smile, reserved only for her, all that he had given her. Should she go see him before she set her other plans in motion? She missed him so much, it hurt. Physically, as well as mentally. The yearning in her was almost unbearable, and she sneered at herself, at how pathetic she had become.

Let me be the Light in your darkness.

Why did his words stick with her?

Next: A Call to Arms...