A/N

This almost certainly flies in the face of Tides of War but it was written before the novel was released, let alone it actually arriving in my mailbox. Hopefully it can still be semi-decent.

Gaze of Stone

Commander of the Alliance Fleets. Friend of Stormwind.

It wasn't a very eloquent obituary, Jaina thought. For all the bad blood that had come between them, she'd given her father a more eloquent funeral speech in Theramore. But still, she supposed it summed up her father well. Short, sharp, to the point, and a man of actions rather than words. The type of man who favoured the sword rather than the quill.

He probably had the right of it.

She didn't know why she was here. Varian had ordered that any and all courtesies be provided for the former ruler of Theramore and her people, and Stormwind had been a most generous host. She could have let her mind and body heal. She could have gone hunting. She could have even stood at Varian's side as he and his fellow advisors discussed the latest Horde naval movements in the south seas, a new land having reportedly been discovered in the area. But no. She was here. Standing in her father's shadow.

Commander of the Alliance Fleets. Friend of Stormwind.

That was more than she was, Jaina told herself. She had command of nothing.

Commander of the Alliance Fleets. Friend of Stormwind.

She was no friend. She was a guest. There was a difference. A true friend would have stood by Stormwind, would have stood firm at Theramore.

Commander of the Alliance Fleets. Friend of Stormwind.

What would her obituary be, she wondered? Did she deserve one? Probably not, all things considered, but-…

Commander of the Alliance Fleets. Friend of Stormwind.

"Enough!"

A ball of fire hit the masonry by the statue, one that had extended from the mage's hand. Guards looked up from the ground, bystanders started moving faster and a child began to cry.

Couldn't even hit him, Jaina thought.

Not the child. Her father. All her rage, all her frustration, all the feeling of being alive knowing that her father had the right idea six years ago. Her father was the one person who she could strike at (despite being a stone statue), and she couldn't even aim right.

Commander of the Alliance Fleets. Friend of Stormwind.

The obituary always came back to her mind. It wasn't the first time she'd read it, or even the first time she'd passed through here. But something had changed.

Up until now, Jaina had always been able to meet Daelin Proudmoore's gaze. To stare back in defiance. To reassure herself that the reason she was able to walk in Stormwind and he couldn't, was that she'd made the right choice.

Now, she could no longer meet his gaze.