A quick drabble for tyraarane.
Warcraft characters, banter, sub-text, all that good stuff.


Sitting on one of the few rugs, with Snowsong's in his lap, Thrall went over a scroll containing one of the few written histories of the Shamanic Path. According to the records, the Orcs were created by the Spirits that they worshiped so faithfully. And knowing the orcs would have wills of their own, they arranged a symbiotic relationship between the shaman and themselves so that both would survive and flourish in body and spirit. Rolling up the scroll, he casually stroked Snowsong's head as he turned to his bed where his guest, Jaina Proudmoore, slept peacefully.

The fact she had fallen asleep in the bath was a little fact he would continue to pester her about for a long time. She wasn't in any danger of drowning, but when he heard the hideous roar coming from the bathing room, he nearly panicked, only to find her drapped over the edge of the makeshift tub, snoring louder than a angered Kodo. It was rather humerous to think that such a small and demure human her size could make as much noise as she did. Even more surprising was when he removed her from the soothing waters, dried her off, and dressed her in a night shirt to maintain her modesty. Her snoring eventually died down when he placed her on the bed and let her sleep. With an almost mischevious grin, he began his study of the ancient text to wait for her to rouse. Knowing Jaina's position as a princess of Kul Tiras, she was undoubtably trained to be proper and refined. He could only imagine what consternation she must have caused in her younger years due to that.

"I was snoring, wasn't I?" Jaina asked wearily. He turned to see her push herself up and rub the drowsines out of her eyes. Her skin was flushed due to the hot water, and her hair was a mess, yet she still seemed to carry the same calming appearence she always did. It was reminiscent of the times Tari would sneak him to her room so they could do all those silly things brothers and sisters did to annoy their parents.

"Just a bit," he said calmly with a smirk.

She leaned casually on her hands as she said, "It drove my father and brothers mad whenever I did it... especially the times when I did it on purpose."

He cocked his eyes in surprise. "And here I thought a princess was supposed to be prim and proper."

Jaina snorted in reply, "Right. I was the sweet and innocent girl everyone saw in public, because that's what I was supposed to be."

Thrall slowly stood up and put the scroll back on his desk, "And now?"

She looked to her friend and said, "I think I got a bit more leeway than before. I'm not considered part of the aristocracy of Kul Tiras anymore and since I'm making the rules for Theramore, somewhat, I can make them myself somewhat. In spite of all the idiocy from Stormwynd, I still prefer this over working for Dalaran... what's left of it."

Thrall bowed his head in understanding. Jaina's half-sister, Finnal Goldensword, had come to Theramore, wishing to pay her respects to her fallen father. It was there Jaina had learned of her father's illicit affair, his refusal to help Dalaran, and Finnal's mother's death. It was emotionally tiring for Jaina to know that she still had family that was fighting the Forsaken and the Scarlet Crusade. She offered Finnal to stay at Theramore, but the half-elf sister had politely refused. Jaina wasn't sure if Finnal hated her for their father's death or not.

Jaina smiled sadly, "Sorry, Thrall. It never ends. No matter what I do, there's always something that does this."

Thrall padded as quietly as a orc could and slowly sat down beside her. She didn't resist as he wrapped his large arm around her demure shoulders. The burden on each other was almost crushing at times, which was why they often needed each other's company for some much needed support. It was good to know that the large orc was always there for her. Using the stones they used to comminucate with each other, it was always possible for them to meet.

She leaned against him, letting the sound of her breathing and his heart beat gently lull her back to sleep. She was glad he was there. Like during the battle at Mount Hyjal, she felt the safest when held by him, however brief it was. She slowly drew herself against him and wrapped her arms around his torso as far as her small arms could. When all the pressure of being rulers of two opposing people were too much, they would always have each other to turn for comfort.

They would find a way for the Alliance to work. They would. They had to.