Howdy Asy! I was wondering what you think about the Jaina/Sylvanas ship, and if that's a pair you'd ever consider writing a story about?
I sure would. But I don’t make promises about what I will and won’t write anymore, so here’s a drabble :3
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Sylvanas already knew she had traitors in her midst, especiallyin this infernal place. She wasn’taware just how many traitors there were in Ogrimmar and how powerful they werelikely to be until she was suddenly aware she was not alone in the tent thatwas supposed to pass as her ‘secure quarters’.
She reached for her bow; a subtle movement. “I’d adviseagainst trying anything foolish,” she said neutrally.
“Someone should have told you that before you filledDarkshore with your filth.” A woman’svoice; the woman stepped out of the shadows and pulledback her hood.
Sylvanas recognised her immediately and her eyebrows rose. Well, well, well: theProudmoore girl.
Changing her mind, left her bow where it was; Jaina Proudmoore was angry, but she wasn’t stupid. “Care fora spot of tea?” she asked, imitating a Kul Tiran invitation. “For ‘filth’, Ithink you’ll find we cater rather well.”
Jaina ignored her. “We need to talk.”
Sylvanas sighed and leant back in her chair, giving her ameasured look. “Suit yourself, but the time for talking is long over.”
“Ordinarily, I’d agree,” Jaina said evenly; although to Sylvanas’trained eye she looked to be struggling with her composure. “I’d like nothing morethat to raze you from Azeroth at this very second. You are a monster.”
Sylvanas didn’t even blink. “As your Alliance so enjoysconstantly reminding me,” she said evenly. She considered the woman: Jaina was breathingquickly, her lips we pressed in a thin, tight line and her cheeks were flushed.Whatever she had come to tell Sylvanas was urgent and necessary, and she wasabsolutely loath to be carrying whatever message it was. That was interesting.This Proudmoore girl was more interesting than whatever message she was carrying, though.
Sylvanas toyed with the idea of making her wait to deliverit. She wondered how Jaina would handle it: would she blow up atSylvanas and attack her? Would she just stand in place pretending she wasperfectly fine while she grew more and more flushed and agitated? Or—morelikely—was Jaina’s anger cold and bitter? Would she be nasty, speaking vilewords and trying to cut Sylvanas down to size?
Cold anger, Sylvanas understood. She liked it. It wasfamiliar and comfortable to her like slipping into an old pair of beloved boots.She very much hoped Jaina’s anger was cold.
Let’s find out,Sylvanas thought to herself, smiling. “If you want to deliver your importantmessage to me, Lady Jaina, you’re going to need to be patient. I have ever somuch important business to attend to, being Warchief and all,” she said, andgestured at furs on the ground in front of her table. “Please, make yourselfcomfortable down on the floor while you wait.”
Jaina stared her dead in the eyes—the hard, cold stare ofsomeone who was about to make a very difficult decision. Her jaw so tight shealmost spoke through gritted teeth, she nevertheless said, “Very well, but youdelay hearing it at your own peril,” and lowered herself rather gracefully ontothe fur.
Interesting. Sylvanas was somewhat impressed. Mosthumans were hot-headed little attack machines, much like their allies theworgen. Well, Sylvanas supposed, Jaina hadbeen spending rather a lot of time with the most patient of races, recently:dragons. Sylvanas had wondered about why Kalecgos would bother with ahuman, but with that particular human currently kneeing supplicant in front ofher, she understood the appeal.
And there was plentyof appeal about the Proudmoore girl—objectively speaking, of course.
If only she werealready dead, Sylvanas lamented to herself, before donning a rather smugsmile and pretending to be very, very busy with paperwork.
