Chapter Text
With a shuddering gasp, Jaina Proudmoore staggered backwards, barely supporting herself on her staff. She was weak and would not be able to take much more of the assault.
Sylvanas Windrunner had sent twenty of her bravest and most seasoned champions to fight for her Horde against Jaina. Both sides fought valiantly, but it seemed as though Jaina had met her match in this group of warriors. Frail and wounded, Jaina believed that she had done all she could. She had bought enough time for her allies to escape. She had fought well. She had saved lives.
After all was said and done, the Alliance had secured an incredible victory against the Horde by killing King Rastakhan.
If this was how it ended, Lord Admiral Jaina Proudmoore of the Alliance could accept that.
But Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Warchief of the Horde, had other plans.
“Stop!” she had shouted. “Champions! Sheathe your weapons! Now!” Sylvanas ran until she was standing in front of her warriors, mere steps from Jaina. “Return to Dazar’alor. I will join you soon. Go!”
Her warriors nursed their wounds and disappeared through a conjured portal back to their base. Once they were gone, Sylvanas turned her attention to the woman in front of her, who had fallen to her knees, battered and bruised, robes ripped and torn from the battle. She was shaking.
Jaina felt hot tears prick her eyes, but she did not let them fall. She looked up at Sylvanas, a resigned expression on her face. “Is this how it ends?”
Sylvanas regarded Jaina carefully, then knelt down. She rested a hand on the dagger on her belt. Jaina’s eyes followed her hand as it clutched the dagger’s handle, then dropped to her side.
“No.”
Jaina exhaled sharply and cautiously looked up, finding Sylvanas’ eyes searching her face.
“I’ve always been fascinated by you,” said the banshee. Jaina said nothing and Sylvanas continued. “For so long you wanted peace between our factions. Then... Garrosh...” she trailed off.
Jaina bristled, clenched the hands at her sides into fists. She closed her eyes, wishing she were anywhere else, wishing Sylvanas would stop toying with her and just end it. But all that happened when she closed her eyes was reliving what happened that day at Theramore. Faces of those she had failed to protect flashed through her mind and she dropped her head in sorrow and shame.
She felt Sylvanas next to her, their shoulders touching. “What are you doing?” she asked wearily.
“Sitting,” came the reply and Jaina felt anger rising within her.
“You have me dead to rights. I’m too weak to fight you and weaker still if I wanted to teleport.” She turned to Sylvanas, studying the banshee’s face, trying to find any clue as to what the Horde Warchief wanted from her. Finding nothing, she continued, “I ask again, what are you doing?”
Sylvanas did not answer immediately and Jaina began to grow more frustrated. She sighed angrily and tried to stand up. A hand on her arm stopped her. Still weak, Jaina slumped back down.
“I’m not sure,” Sylvanas said finally.
Jaina was certain that the battle had not affected her hearing, but she did not think she could have possibly heard Sylvanas correctly.
“What?”
The banshee chuckled in response. “My champions could have killed you,” she said.
Jaina licked her lips and exhaled slowly. “I’m aware.” She opened and closed her mouth at least twice before finally asking what she wanted to know, “So why didn’t you let them?”
Sylvanas turned to face Jaina and the intensity of her gaze, red eyes burning into hers, made Jaina swallow hard and look away. Cold fingers gently grasping her jaw made her look back at the banshee.
Jaina regarded Sylvanas with tired eyes. Her face was still in Sylvanas’ hand. She swore that the banshee moved closer to her, but she was so exhausted she figured she was seeing things.
Then, suddenly, Sylvanas’ cool mouth was on hers and Jaina was too stunned to pull away. She let Sylvanas kiss her, let Sylvanas thread the chilled fingers of one hand through her hair, while the other tugged her closer by pulling at her tattered robes.
Jaina was unaware how long the kiss lasted, but she was definitely aware of how bereft she felt when Sylvanas pulled away. Jaina took a shuddering breath and swallowed. Sylvanas simply looked at her, the tiniest hint of a smile playing at her mouth. Jaina was uncertain how to react. She was not expecting to feel empty and, she realized as she pondered the kiss, wanting.
In a daze, Jaina stood up and immediately felt lightheaded. Pain wracked her body. She had managed to forget how weak she still was during the kiss and was now paying dearly for it. She breathed heavily for a few moments, trying to get her bearings while she reminded herself of where she was. The two of them were on an abandoned ship, drifting in the middle of the ocean.
They were also completely alone.
“Windrunner,” Jaina called, still looking about.
“Proudmoore,” Sylvanas returned, standing and walking towards Jaina, stopping when she had reached the mage’s side.
“You have me alone—”
“This is true,” Sylvanas broke in, her tone amused.
“—Unable to fight back or leave,” Jaina finished.
Sylvanas nodded and Jaina felt herself growing angry again, especially at how useless she felt and the pain she was in.
“Why don’t you head below deck and find a place to rest?” Sylvanas suggested. “We can speak more once you’ve recovered somewhat.”
Jaina clenched her fists at her sides and exploded. “You kissed me!”
“I did,” Sylvanas said simply.
Jaina whirled on her, breath coming in ragged gasps that hurt her every time she inhaled or exhaled. She held Sylvanas’ gaze, again trying to find some clue in the banshee’s eyes. Finding nothing, she took a quivering breath and demanded, “Why?”
Sylvanas crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back slightly on her heel, a thoughtful expression on her face. “In the moment,” she began, “it felt right.”
Jaina felt tears swimming in her eyes. She refused to let them fall as she struggled with how she was feeling. She hurried to the stairs that led below deck, stifling a sob as she went.
Once she was far enough away from Sylvanas, she let her tears slip down her cheeks as she looked for a private place to rest and work through her emotions. She came across a small room with a small cot to match and she sank down upon it, burying her face in her hands as she allowed herself to weep openly.
After some time, Jaina composed herself and stood from the bed to undress. She carefully pulled off her ruined robes, leaving her in her undergarments.
A full-body shiver went through her, partly from the cold and partly because she was alone on a ship, in the middle of the ocean, with someone she regarded as an enemy. She tried to shake off the feeling and recalled what Sylvanas had said, that they would speak more once Jaina had rested. Jaina knew that Sylvanas could easily kill her in her sleep. Part of her wondered if the banshee would do just that. Part of her still, wondered if she even cared. She did not consider herself to have a death wish, but she had tried so hard and had done so much for the Alliance that she once again believed that she was ready to accept death, if that was what awaited her on this ship.
She sighed deeply and drew back the covers, slipping into the bed and pulling the blankets up to her chin.
Even as exhausted as she was, she lay awake for some time. She had so many questions about everything, but she kept coming back to the kiss. She was absolutely flummoxed, eagerly trying to make sense of what had happened and what Sylvanas’ motivation and goals were, if there even were any. She was unable to come up with anything that made sense, so she decided to table it for the time being and instead, focus on how she felt.
She had allowed Sylvanas to kiss her, without even attempting to put a stop to it. She rationalized that she had perhaps done so out of fear, out of not knowing what the banshee might have done had she tried to do so.
But, even with that, Jaina realized that she had not wanted Sylvanas to stop. Indeed, when the banshee pulled away, Jaina felt suddenly lonely, as if she had lost something that she deeply, desperately, desired.
Absently, her fingers brushed her lips and she shivered. She replayed the kiss in her mind, Sylvanas running a hand through her hair and pulling her closer. She gasped and a shiver ran through her once again. Then, she felt her whole body begin to heat up and her cheeks flushed with equal parts embarrassment and arousal.
She closed her eyes, still a bit delirious and certainly still in pain from the battle. But right now, thoughts of Sylvanas running through her head, she felt briefly at peace.
***
A cool hand on Jaina’s cheek roused her from her slumber. She gasped and sat up quickly, momentarily forgetting where she was. She pulled the blankets up to her chest. Sylvanas dropped her hand and sat back in the chair near Jaina’s bed. She wondered how long Sylvanas had been sitting here, watching her.
Her pulse raced as she woke up fully and remembered where she was and what had happened.
“You didn’t kill me,” she said, surprise in her voice.
“No,” Sylvanas said. “I did not.”
“I keep asking you why,” Jaina said. “I’d really appreciate an answer.”
Sylvanas looked down at her hands in her lap. After a few moments, she spoke, “I’m going to be stepping down as Warchief.”
Jaina’s mouth fell open in shock and she quickly closed it. “Wh-who will be taking your place?”
A small smile played at Sylvanas’ lips. “An old friend of yours.”
Jaina was suddenly overcome with emotion, but Sylvanas could not possibly mean whom Jaina thought... could she?
Trembling, she spoke, “Go’el?”
Sylvanas raised an eyebrow at Jaina’s use of the name. “Yes.”
Jaina was elated, but the feeling was short-lived. “He...” she began, then stopped and looked down. She shook her head. “He probably hates me. After everything that happened, the way things are now…”
Sylvanas looked at her with narrowed eyes. “You do realize this is not all about you, right, Proudmoore?”
Jaina narrowed her eyes right back. “Obviously.”
“Good.”
“But in the interest of being honest, I feel it’s easier to be enemies with you than to try and find friendship again with Go’el.”
Jaina looked at Sylvanas and found her with a thoughtful expression on her face.
“You should know that this isn’t final,” the banshee said suddenly.
Jaina looked confused and asked, “What, exactly, isn’t final?”
“My resignation and Thrall’s appointment.”
“What?” Jaina questioned, almost feeling sick.
“I made the decision when I saw my champions battling you.”
Jaina desperately searched Sylvanas’ eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. Questions flew around in her head and she tried to decide which one to ask first. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. “What made you tell them to stop?”
“You.”
Jaina swallowed. “Me?”
“You.”
“Why me?”
Sylvanas sighed patiently. “I told you above deck that you’ve always fascinated me. Part of it is your immense power. It’s... very seductive.”
Jaina bit her tongue as she felt her face grow hot.
“But it isn’t just your power. It’s who you are. You and I are very different and approach situations in our own ways. You’ve always been as diplomatic as a situation would allow, while I’ve never been much for diplomacy, especially not after the Lich King.”
Jaina felt a chill and a wave of nausea pass over her when Sylvanas spoke of Arthas. It had been years since her relationship with him had ended, since he had begun changing into the monster he would ultimately become. She shook her head to clear it. “I don’t want to talk about Arthas,” she said, barely above a whisper.
“Neither do I,” Sylvanas replied. “I only mentioned him to make a point, that’s all. I already have this,” she gestured to herself, “to remind me of him every day.”
Jaina nodded imperceptibly and allowed herself a brief moment to gaze upon Sylvanas. The banshee was beautiful, regardless of what Arthas had done. Jaina suddenly dropped her gaze, feeling guilty and a bit sick. She had not considered Sylvanas to be anything other than an enemy. Yet here she was, alone with the Horde’s warchief, feeling sympathetic and something else—something she did not want to acknowledge—despite all that Sylvanas had done. She could not comprehend it, she could not understand why she felt as she did towards someone who had shown such blatant disregard towards people. What was happening to her, she wondered. What was it about this woman that made her feel as she did?
Unable to come up with a suitable answer to her own question, she decided to steer the conversation back to the end of the battle. “So, you told your warriors to stop because I fascinate you.”
Sylvanas smiled slightly. “Yes.”
“And this was a spur of the moment decision?”
“Yes.”
Jaina shook her head. “I suppose I still don’t understand. Me, my power, your decision to step down. How does this all connect? Are you planning something? Something that you need my power for?” She felt herself beginning to grow upset. “Is this all some sort of ruse to trick me into betraying my people so you can use me and then kill me?”
Sylvanas’ mouth dropped open and then closed just as quickly. Jaina swore Sylvanas almost looked hurt, but she kept going and asked, “And that kiss! What was that? I don’t know how I’m supposed to react, what I’m even supposed to do! My enemy, on the battlefield, decides to spare me and then kiss me!” She felt tears in her eyes and willed them not to fall. Not here, not now.
“I...” Jaina stopped, not even sure how to continue. She was certain nothing Sylvanas could say would make her feel better or bring any sort of comfort, and at this point, she was not sure she even wanted to hear anymore.
She pushed the covers back and stood from the bed, aware that she had shed her ruined robes and was clad only in undergarments. She decided she did not care and grabbed her robes from the edge of the bed and began to put them on.
Sylvanas slowly stood and rested a hand on Jaina’s arm. Jaina’s movements stilled and she looked up when she felt the banshee’s gaze on her. Sylvanas raised a hand to softly caress Jaina’s cheek and against her better judgement, Jaina found herself closing her eyes and leaning into the touch. After a few moments, she stepped back from Sylvanas, shaking her head. “No.”
The banshee inclined her head to regard Jaina curiously. “Why?” she asked.
Still shaking her head, Jaina replied, “This isn’t right. This shouldn’t be happening.” She took a shuddering breath and another step back. She was now standing against the hull of the ship, nowhere else to go.
“I think,” Sylvanas began, taking a step towards Jaina, “that you are very much overthinking things.” She reached out again, this time grasping both of Jaina’s hands in hers and squeezing them gently.
Jaina looked down at their hands, faintly trembling. “H-how are you doing this to me? Why is this happening?” Mostly to herself, she murmured, “How are you affecting me like this?”
Sylvanas stepped forward again, now inches from Jaina’s face. She leaned in, still holding Jaina’s hands, and captured the mage’s lips in a kiss.
At first, Jaina just let it happen, then she found herself responding in kind. She extracted her hands from the banshee’s but not to push her away. Instead, she reached up cautiously, her hands shaking, and gently cradled Sylvanas’ face.
Sylvanas took another step forward and wrapped her arms around Jaina, pulling her close. Her hands slid up until they were tangled in Jaina’s white hair, softly stroking the strands.
Jaina moved forward just slightly, until their bodies were touching. The kiss continued to deepen and the banshee’s tongue explored the mage’s mouth.
Sylvanas kept one hand in Jaina’s hair and slipped the other back down, fingers caressing Jaina’s neck, then moving behind the mage’s back and stopping just short of undoing the clasp on her bra. She broke the kiss to look into Jaina’s eyes and ask a silent question. The mage nodded and kissed the banshee again as the clasp was undone and Sylvanas helped Jaina slide the garment off and toss it on the chair.
Standing half-naked in front of Sylvanas, locked in a deep kiss, Jaina trembled, but it was from desire, not fear. The banshee moved a hand to the front of Jaina’s body and lightly grazed one of her breasts, drawing a gasp from the mage and breaking their kiss. Sylvanas moved her thumb to Jaina’s nipple, rubbing slow circles around it. Jaina’s head fell back in a moan and Sylvanas slipped her other hand down around Jaina’s waist and guided her to the bed. Jaina lay down and Sylvanas climbed on top of her. They kissed briefly, then Sylvanas moved her lips to Jaina’s neck and down to her breasts, drawing a nipple into her mouth and sucking gently on it.
Jaina moaned softly and her hand went to Sylvanas’ head, threading fingers through her hair. Sylvanas’ mouth was cold against Jaina’s heated skin and she felt herself grow more aroused at the chill on her flesh.
Sylvanas licked one nipple until it formed a stiff peak and did the same to the other. Every action drew a response from Jaina and Jaina could tell the banshee was very much enjoying it.
Sylvanas kissed her way down to Jaina’s quivering stomach. She pressed a hand against the smooth muscles, fingertips ghosting over soft skin.
She looked up at Jaina then, as her hands found the waistband of the mage’s panties. She waited patiently and was rewarded with another nod. Slowly, she pulled the fabric down Jaina’s legs and sent it to the chair with the mage’s bra. She turned her attention back to Jaina’s stomach, kissing a line straight down, slowly and deliberately.
Jaina shivered as Sylvanas moved closer and closer to her heat. She felt the banshee nuzzle the thatch of hair above her sex and lifted her hips upward slightly, wanting Sylvanas’ mouth on her. Sylvanas continued to play with the mage, kissing her inner thighs, lightly grazing her teeth over soft, heated skin.
Jaina began to shake a little, realizing she wanted Sylvanas more than any other lover in recent memory and damned if it made any sense. “Please,” she murmured, tightening her hands in Sylvanas’ hair.
Chuckling, Sylvanas finally gave in and slipped a finger between Jaina’s folds. She was slick with arousal and Sylvanas pulled her finger away to lick Jaina’s essence off it. Jaina watched, trembling with want, and bucked her hips towards Sylvanas again. The banshee used her thumb this time to slide Jaina open and, ever so softly, brush the mage’s clit. Jaina cried out then, the chill of Sylvanas’ thumb against her burning clit almost too much to bear. She tried to settle down, a thin sheen of sweat forming at her brow as Sylvanas worked her clit in slow circles. Jaina gripped the bed sheets tightly. She was wound up and already getting close. Her hips thrust upwards of their own volition and Jaina’s breath was a series of short gasps as her orgasm drew near.
Then, without warning, Sylvanas pulled her thumb away. Jaina sat up and gave her a quizzical look, chest heaving as she drew each breath.
Sylvanas simply smiled in return and slid one finger inside Jaina. The mage lay back down and closed her eyes. The finger inside her curled against her front wall and Jaina gripped the sheets again. Sylvanas added a second finger, stroking the same spot and Jaina shivered as a small cry came from her throat. Sylvanas slipped a third finger inside and Jaina let out a gasping moan, her hips bucking wildly, feeling impossibly full.
Carefully, Sylvanas began to thrust her fingers in and out of the mage as Jaina struggled to retain any kind of composure. With each thrust, she curled her fingers against Jaina’s front wall, stroking against the sweet spot that would soon make Jaina explode.
Sylvanas leaned forward, her mouth open slightly, hovering above Jaina’s sex. She exhaled a cool breath over Jaina’s clit as her fingers continued to thrust inside and Jaina almost lost it. She grasped Sylvanas’ hair and cried the banshee’s name.
Cool lips wrapped around Jaina’s clit and Sylvanas’ tongue flicked out and caressed it. Jaina saw stars behind her eyes as the banshee’s fingers thrust impossibly deep within while her mouth worked her clit, bringing the mage closer and closer to the edge.
Jaina’s breathing grew ragged, her hips thrusting in time with Sylvanas’ fingers until her orgasm hit her so hard that she screamed and collapsed in a panting, trembling heap. Sylvanas kept her pace, feeling Jaina’s muscles tense and release and then begin to tense again, another orgasm building within the mage. Tears filled her eyes and she sobbed as Sylvanas then slowed her fingers and mouth, riding out the second wave of pleasure that washed over her. Jaina moved slightly away from Sylvanas, the stimulation of her overly sensitive clit beginning to feel painful. The banshee gently removed her fingers and licked them clean.
Breathless, Jaina lay on the bed, hands wiping the tears from her eyes as she tried to recover. Sylvanas moved to lay beside her, propped herself up on an elbow, and stroked Jaina’s hair.
Sylvanas was the first to speak. “How are you feeling, Proudmoore?” She gave Jaina a slight grin.
Jaina turned to Sylvanas, resting on her side. The tears were drying on her cheeks and she had finally caught her breath. “Sore,” she replied truthfully.
Sylvanas’ grin widened and Jaina rolled her eyes.
“Not because of you,” she said, then paused. “Well, maybe a little because of you. But, mostly, because your champions wore me out.” She looked at Sylvanas through half-lidded eyes. “I’m exhausted,” she said quietly.
Sylvanas tucked a lock of Jaina’s hair behind her ear and brushed a thumb over her cheekbone. “Sleep.” She settled down next to Jaina, head resting on half of Jaina’s pillow and closed her eyes.
Jaina grasped one of Sylvanas’ hands and thread their fingers together. Sylvanas’ eyes opened slightly for a moment, then closed again, and a small smile graced her features.
The mage regarded the banshee as she slept, making note of every curve and detail of her face. She sighed softly and whispered, “What happens now?”
Sylvanas opened her eyes and lightly squeezed Jaina’s hand. “I leave that up to you.”