Part 1: Orgrimmar
Summary: An unusually harebrained plot of Garrosh Hellscream's involves Sylvanas in a way she had never expected possible. After all, what could the Horde gain by abducting Jaina Proudmoore?
Disclaimer: Characters, settings, etc. are the property of Blizzard Entertainment.
Author's Notes: I've been wanting to write a Jaina/Sylvanas for a while, partly because of all the interesting conversations concerning Arthas they could have. And partly because that's a lot of pretty.
Also, I know Jaina is a 25-person raid. There will be explanations. But mostly, the muses do not care about continuity (DAMN them).
Sylvanas Windrunner strode down the corridor in one of the largest buildings in Orgrimmar, flanked by two silent Forsaken bodyguards, puzzling over why she had been summoned there. Garrosh Hellscream had made it clear he required her presence, but the rest of his summons had been frustratingly vague, almost cryptic. It wasn't like him to be cryptic; it wasn't like him to be anything but extremely blunt.
Two heavily armored orc guards were waiting outside the door to the chamber where Sylvanas had been instructed to arrive. "Lok'tar, Lady Windrunner," said one of them. Sylvanas took a brief moment to appreciate that Hellscream's underlings showed her more respect than he did.
"The Warchief instructed that I report here."
The orc nodded. "We have been expecting you." He and the other orc unlocked the door and they pushed it open for her.
The room Sylvanas entered was surprisingly small. There was enough space for several of the other leaders of the Horde—Hellscream, High Warlord Cromush, Vol'jin, and Lor'Themar Theron—to crowd comfortably around a large table. When Garrosh saw her, he grinned almost obscenely. "Sylvanas. About time you got here."
"I do not appreciate being summoned like a hunter's mongrel," replied Sylvanas coolly. "It would seem not all of us are present. Where is Baine Bloodhoof? Jastor Gallywix?"
"They were invited. They did not choose to attend," Cromush explained.
"Choose?" Sylvanas repeated. "My summons indicated that my presence was mandated."
"Yours was." Hellscream growled.
Sylvanas was beginning to lose her patience. "Why?"
Hellscream took a step back from the table; so did the others. Sylvanas came far too close to reacting at what she saw. A human woman was chained to the table at her ankles, waist, and wrists, and she had been stripped naked. It took Sylvanas a moment to recognize her; the woman was Lady Jaina Proudmoore of Theramore.
Sylvanas took a moment to consider the fact that she might be having a dream, or possibly a nightmare. When she had concluded that she was awake and what she was experiencing was actually happening, she allowed herself a small outburst. "Warchief, are you completely mad!"
"Excuse me?" Hellscream snarled.
"I said," Sylvanas snapped icily, "Are you completely mad? Jaina Proudmoore? She may be connected with Alliance filth, but she is an advocate of moderation. What would kidnapping her accomplish besides angering her more bellicose allies?" Something else occurred to her. "Does Thrall know about this?"
Hellscream's silence answered that question.
"You imbecile!" Sylvanas railed. "You do know Thrall is a friend of Jaina's, right?"
"Thrall and Jaina sitting in a tree, K-I…" Vol'jin began, but a withering glare from Sylvanas silenced him.
I always knew you were a buffoon, Hellscream, but this goes beyond buffoonery, Sylvanas thought bitterly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "What is the objective of this, pray tell?"
"Oh, we brought her here for you," the Warchief chuckled.
Sylvanas was befuddled, but tried not to show it. "You want me to kill her? She's never wronged me."
The other Horde leaders snickered; Jaina, who had (surprisingly) been quiet and collected so far, struggled against her chains.
"Sylvanas, you can consider this an opportunity to…improve your reputation with the Horde," said Hellscream.
"Particularly after your recruitment of those Scourge abominations," Cromush seethed.
Sylvanas clenched her teeth. "Are you saying you'll stop breathing down my neck regarding my authority over my people if…if I perform for the lot of you!"
"You might say dat," Vol'jin leered.
Sylvanas fixed her smoldering gaze on Lor'Themar; it had worked before. If she could order him to bring the sin'dorei to Northrend, she could command him here…perhaps. Last time, she had had the support of the Warchief. "Lor'Themar, you're going along with this?"
Lor'Themar could never hold her gaze; he looked at the floor. "I am here at Warchief Hellscream's command. The sin'dorei and their leader must obey him. You have insisted as much."
Sylvanas forced herself not to think of how many of those in attendance could have arrows through their throats before someone stopped her if she drew her bow at the moment.
"More thought was put into this than you seem to believe, Sylvanas," Hellscream chided. "We chose Jaina Proudmoore especially for you. After all, she was Arthas's bed-warmer."
A spark of a plan flickered in the back of Sylvanas' mind. "You were, weren't you?" Sylvanas approached the prone woman. Jaina stared stubbornly straight ahead. "Jaina." Sylvanas spoke evenly. "Look at me."
Jaina looked up at Sylvanas, moving just her eyes instead of her head. "Lady Sylvanas." She was struggling to keep her voice level. "I beg of you to help me."
The assembled Horde leaders cackled and guffawed at Jaina's plea. Sylvanas was quiet until the laughter died down.
"You appeal to me for mercy because I am female?" Sylvanas said coldly. "You know little." She paused to watch Jaina fight to keep her face impassive. "I asked you a question. Were you Arthas Menethil's lover?"
Jaina closed her eyes in agony. "I was."
"Interesting." Sylvanas removed her gauntlets and gloves to trail a fingertip down Jaina's arm. "It is a tantalizing opportunity. I still curse the fact that I personally did not have a hand in the Lich King's downfall. To possess the woman he loved…one last final biting of the thumb to the son of a bitch." Sylvanas gripped Jaina's chin tightly. "And she is lovely."
The Horde leaders snickered; Jaina's eyes filled with terror.
"None of you will spoil her for me." Sylvanas interrupted their laughter. "Something so sweet and exquisite must be…handled with care. And just so none of you are tempted…" Sylvanas removed her cloak and draped it over Jaina's body. Jaina, who had been shivering and covered with gooseflesh, looked relieved; Sylvanas nearly smirked at Vol'jin's whine of protest behind her. "I will return shortly."
Sylvanas exited swiftly, and when she and her Forsaken bodyguards were out of earshot of any orcs, she told them exactly what was about to happen and what they were to do. "Now we have some purchases to make. Be quick."
Sylvanas felt rather than saw the eyes on her as she entered the chamber where the other Horde leaders waited for her. She was clad in a stunning form-fitting Embersilk gown that fastened down the front, showing less skin than usual but obviously dressed for ceremony rather than battle. She approached Jaina slowly, taking each step deliberately, watching Jaina as the chained woman tried and failed to not look petrified.
Sylvanas delicately pulled her cloak from Jaina's body inch by inch, drinking in the sight of the soft, pale flesh beneath. She carelessly handed the cloak to one of her undead helpers, tracing the curve of Jaina's hip with one hand. Jaina flinched away from Sylvanas' cold touch; Sylvanas shook her head, chiding herself, and snapped her fingers at one of her Forsaken bodyguards. Bowing slightly, he handed her a flask. Sylvanas downed its contents in a few swallows, carefully wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and replaced it in her assistant's outstretched hands. This time, when she laid her palm on Jaina's hip, Jaina looked up at her in surprise, for Sylvanas' touch no longer felt cold; to Jaina, it was as if a living woman had touched her. "Better?" Sylvanas queried.
"Yes…but, Lady Sylvanas? I'm thirsty. Could I…could I please have some water?"
Sylvanas turned to the assembled Horde leaders, who were watching hungrily, and demanded "Has she been given any food or water?"
All of them immediately looked either guilty or foolish. Sylvanas let them see her dramatic eye-roll, then withdrew a flagon of purified spring water from a rucksack of her possessions that one of her Forsaken carried for her. She took a sip to demonstrate that it was safe to drink and held the spigot up to Jaina's mouth. Jaina leaned her head up as far as she could and drank deeply. "That's right, drink up. I'll let you have as much as you want."
Jaina had consumed almost the entire flagon when she stopped drinking. "Thank you," she gasped.
Instead of replying verbally, Sylvanas perched herself on the table beside Jaina and stroked her hair in a possessive mockery of a lover's caress. Jaina fought back whimpers of fear as Sylvanas unfastened the front of her gown; her tiny noises were drowned out as Sylvanas leaned over to kiss her neck and there was a chorus of disappointed groans as Sylvanas' open dress covered both women. Sylvanas ignored them and let herself enjoy her closeness to the lovely body of another woman, leaving a trail of kisses from just under Jaina's chin to her collarbone. Jaina did not respond at all, and when Sylvanas looked up at the captive mage's face, she nearly let her mask slip. Jaina's eyes were completely vacant, lifeless, a look that spoke of a desire to be elsewhere so strong that the soul had been evacuated from the body, leaving only a shell behind to be abused. Sylvanas had seen that look far too many times, particularly in the eyes of her people as the Scourge rampaged through Quel'Thalas, Sylvanas floating helplessly beside the monstrous death knight Arthas…and that look had surely been on her face once or twice… Hold out a little longer, mage, Sylvanas almost said, but she caught herself. "Don't look so afraid," she crooned instead, caressing Jaina's face, neck and shoulders. "You're mine now. I take care of my possessions."
There—a small flicker of life in Jaina's eyes. Good; she had to be paying attention. Sylvanas slid two fingertips up Jaina's right forearm to allow Jaina to clutch her hand. Behind her, Hellscream and Cromush were grumbling loudly; to appease them, Sylvanas took a risk by climbing fully onto the table and straddling Jaina's waist, but the mage stayed with her, squeezing Sylvanas' hand tightly. The undead woman traced Jaina's clavicles with kisses, earning a soft sigh of pleasure as opposed to fear. Jaina tugged at the restraints on her wrists, not to struggle, but acting on the instinct to pull Sylvanas closer to her.
It was time.
Sylvanas sat up. "I want the bonds on her wrists undone, but get her some shackles. I want her struggling…just not too much. And we don't want her casting."
Judging from the noises that that statement earned in response, Sylvanas' suggestion would be honored. Sylvanas' lip curled in disgust. Men. But Jaina was looking up at her in bewilderment and panic now. Stay with me, Jaina.
It was Cromush who brought a pair of shackles. He undid the bonds at Jaina's wrists and replaced them with the shackles, practically drooling. After Jaina's wrists had been restrained again, Cromush made an attempt to paw at Jaina's breasts; Sylvanas slapped his clawed hands away with brutal strength. Cromush glared at her and slunk away.
Reaching out to the only person she considered possibly trustworthy, or else praying affection would give Sylvanas cause for mercy, Jaina reached up to rest her hands pitifully on Sylvanas' shoulders. Sylvanas bent over to kiss Jaina's mouth, gently as she could—her sense of touch was limited, and she'd not been with a living lover since before she had become undead—and repeated her soft kisses until she felt Jaina return the gesture, hesitantly at first, then more warmly. Sylvanas moved her mouth a few inches to the side to whisper in Jaina's ear: "When I sit up, cover your ears."
Jaina nearly exclaimed in confusion at that. Her mind was whirling; first she had thought Sylvanas might actually have the compassion to have her released, then it had seemed like Sylvanas would be a truly vicious assailant by lulling Jaina into a false sense of security and then hurting her terribly. And now it seemed like Sylvanas genuinely had no interest in harming her, but why would Jaina have to cover her…?
Sylvanas sat bolt upright and tilted her head back, and by the time the hideous banshee scream issued from her throat, Jaina had her hands clamped tightly over her ears.
The other leaders of the Horde collapsed, clutching their ears and howling in pain. Sylvanas' two Forsaken helpers, who were wearing wax plugs in their ears, burst into action; they retrieved the keys to Jaina's chains from Cromush and Hellscream and set about releasing her. Sylvanas alit on the floor, fastening up her gown and digging into her bag for a plain black robe, which she handed to Jaina as soon as the mage had been let loose from her chains. Jaina jammed her hands through the sleeves and wrapped the cloth around her, too startled to do anything that wasn't driven by raw instinct. "Get her someplace safe," Sylvanas ordered her Forsaken in Gutterspeak. She didn't much care for Gutterspeak, but it was the language of her people, and besides, none of the other Horde leaders spoke it (if they could even hear her at that point).
The two Forsaken politely hustled Jaina from the room; Sylvanas stayed behind. When Jaina insisted she wanted to stay and hear what Sylvanas had to say, the undead bodyguards looked at each other, shrugged, and remained at Jaina's side just outside the door.
Sylvanas waited until the men could hear her and then let her voice ring out with an authority that could only be described as "pants-wettingly frightening". "Hellscream, you insist there is no difference between myself and the Lich King. Since the concept of my people having free will instead of being mindless, tormented slaves escapes you, I am forced to demonstrate a truly crucial difference for you. There are atrocities that the Lich King committed so casually it was sickening…atrocities that never, not in a hundred lifetimes, will I commit. And certainly not against a woman who has never wronged me." Sylvanas spat at Garrosh Hellscream's feet as he struggled to stand after the aural onslaught. "I trust this is a more effective way of showing you that I serve the Horde as something other than a new Lich King than…what you had planned. And if my refusal to commit a despicable act for your pleasure means less to you than a way to keep the Forsaken thriving that you don't approve of"—Sylvanas packed those words full of venom—"you're more of a brainless lackwit than I thought." With that, Sylvanas swept out of the room, re-fastening her cloak onto her back.
Jaina waited outside, wan and shaking, clutching the robe to her body as the two Forsaken regarded her impatiently. "Lady Sylvanas?" she whispered.
"Lady Jaina." Sylvanas slammed the doors behind her, much to the shock of the two orc guards. "Are you hurt?"
"No…I was not harmed." Jaina paused, toying with the ties of her robe. "Thank you for…for rescuing me."
"I had no choice. I could not allow you to be treated in such a way." Sylvanas strode past Jaina to listen to something one of her Forsaken assistants was saying quite urgently in Gutterspeak.
"Still…" Jaina edged closer to Sylvanas, cautiously resting a hand on the Banshee Queen's shoulder. (Sylvanas had just been draped over her naked body and kissing her; why was she feeling so shy now?) "Thank you." She rested her cheek against Sylvanas' shoulder.
Sylvanas pulled away, looking vaguely confused. "You're certain you're all right?"
"I'm…I'm all right. I've just…not been so close to someone in a while. Nor have I needed rescuing in such a way." Jaina felt her cheeks flush darkly. She reached hesitantly for Sylvanas' hand and squeezed it. "Lady Sylvanas…may I please accompany you to Undercity?"
Sylvanas kept her voice level, but she still appeared puzzled. "I intended to return you to Theramore."
Jaina darted forward to press her lips to Sylvanas' neck. "Please," she begged softly. "Please, Sylvanas."
Sylvanas cupped Jaina's face tightly in both hands. "Are you saying you consent to what I was instructed to do to you just now?"
Jaina paused. Sylvanas seemed to mean it when she claimed she wanted to "possess" Arthas' former lover. Was Jaina about to give herself to someone whose only interest was conquest? Although if Sylvanas wanted Jaina that badly, she wouldn't have planned to return her home; what she had said about her desire to bed Jaina because she had been Arthas' lover was likely true, but had only been used as a ruse. The thought of Sylvanas' lips tracing her collarbones again spurred Jaina into speaking. "With perhaps a bit less…restraint, but yes."
"I don't know how much longer they will be incapacitated. We must go quickly."
Jaina clung to Sylvanas' arm as they rushed from the building. Three wind riders were tethered outside; the two Forsaken mounted their wind riders and waited to take off, watching Sylvanas expectantly. Sylvanas clambered onto her golden wind rider and reached out a hand to Jaina. Startled, Jaina took Sylvanas' hand and found herself yanked suddenly onto the wind rider's back. Sylvanas shook the wind rider's reins and called out sharply to it; Jaina wrapped her arms tightly around the undead elf's waist and pressed her cheek to the slight hollow between her shoulder blades.
For a few moments, there was silence except for the steady wingbeats of the wind riders. Then Sylvanas spoke: "To your knowledge, were you given an aphrodisiac?"
"N-no. I wasn't given anything but that water you gave me. And I know that wasn't enchanted. Why do you ask?"
"You have willingly asked to bed an undead person. And though I can't way I know you well, but you don't seem the type to have interest in women."
"I haven't been interested in a woman before," Jaina mumbled. "There's something about you…"
"This is why I inquired about an aphrodisiac."
Jaina slid her palms up Sylvanas' flat, muscular stomach to shyly cradle her breasts. "Perhaps I've never…met a woman as beautiful as you."
Sylvanas made no protest against Jaina's suddenly intimate touch; she snickered wryly. "Somehow I doubt that's it. You'd have noticed you found women attractive before you were chained down and forced to endure a woman's kisses."
"You were…kind, though. You rescued me," Jaina murmured.
Sylvanas held back a groan. "Oh, don't tell me. You've been a damsel in distress and you can't help but throw yourself at the one who rescued you? Just let me know when you come to your senses and the disgust sets in. Or shall we just head for Theramore now?"
Jaina dropped a few kisses on Sylvanas' shoulder. "You're so beautiful. I could never be disgusted by you."
"You don't have to flatter me," said Sylvanas dryly.
"I'm only being honest." Jaina began to gently knead Sylvanas' soft flesh through her gown.
Sylvanas startled. "Wha—? Ah. I hadn't noticed you'd decided to start playing with me so promptly. You couldn't wait until we arrived at Undercity?"
"I was trying to make a point," Jaina insisted. "I really do find you attractive."
"Hmm," Sylvanas deadpanned.
Jaina, beginning to understand why men were so obsessed with bosoms, continued her timid ministrations. "Does…does that feel good?" she hedged.
"Undead have diminished sensitivity."
Jaina felt her heart speed up with nervousness. What if she wasn't able to please Sylvanas? "Is…is that a no?"
Sylvanas paused. "No."
"So…you enjoy it when I touch you like this?"
"I would prefer to wait until we are in Undercity. In private."
"All right." Jaina reluctantly returned her hands to Sylvanas' waist. She contented herself with covering Sylvanas' shoulders with kisses until they reached Undercity. The wind riders of Sylvanas' Forsaken attendants flew into the trade quarter; Sylvanas' wind rider attempted to follow them, but when she gave a sharp tug to its reins, it squawked crossly and banked toward the royal quarter. The beast landed just outside the great room where Sylvanas took audiences with her people. Sylvanas disembarked smoothly as a dreadguard dashed up to take hold of the wind rider's reins and soothingly pat its snout. "Take the animal to Michael Garrett. Surely he won't object to having a beast of burden other than a bat at his post."
"Yes, Your Majesty." The guard bowed.
Sylvanas reached up to Jaina; Jaina grabbed hold of the undead woman's hand and was helped to the ground. Jaina stumbled slightly and ended up leaning on Sylvanas, which, if pressed, she would admit she had engineered. "I've never been to Undercity before."
Sylvanas pushed Jaina off of her, not unkindly. "If you wish, I can have a tour arranged for you. There are boat tours in the apothecary section."
"I'd…prefer to go to your quarters first."
The dreadguard was regarding Sylvanas and Jaina with a puzzled expression. "Your Majesty…?"
"Lady Proudmoore is here of her own free will. Security is not necessary." Sylvanas leaned to whisper in Jaina's ear. "You did say less restraint, yes?"
Jaina felt her cheeks turn to flame. "At least at first," she murmured.
"That can be arranged," said Sylvanas silkily. "Come with me."
A/N: There will be three more parts to this story: Undercity (split into 2 because it's so frakking long), an exchange of letters between Jaina and Sylvanas, and Theramore.
Also, Arrows in My Quiver is still in progress; I have not abandoned it.