Christie Golden - Jaina Proudmoore - Tides of War

“It’s been truly amazing, Aunt Jaina,” he said. “There is so much going on in the world that I want to be part of right now, but I know I have to stay here. I’m learning something new almost every single day. It kills me that I can’t help, but—”

“It is the destiny of others to buy us a future for you to grow up in, Anduin,” Jaina said. “It is your destiny to do precisely that—and do so well. Keep studying. Keep learning. You’re right. You’re exactly where you need to be.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and suddenly looked very young again. “I know,” he said, sighing. “I do know that. It’s just… hard, sometimes.”

“There will come a time when you will long for these simpler, quieter days,” Jaina said. Briefly her mind went back to her own youth. Loved by her father and brother, safe with her governess and tutors, Jaina had been filled with the joy of learning and the duties of a young lady, despite the military nature of her family. She had chafed against such things then, but now they seemed sweet and delicate as a flower’s petals.

Anduin rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “Give Thrall my best,” he said.

“I’m sure that’s hardly prudent,” Jaina replied, but she smiled as she said it. She lifted the cloak’s hood over her golden hair. “Be well, Anduin. It’s good to hear how you are doing.”

“I will, Aunt Jaina. You be careful.” His image vanished. Jaina, who had been tying the hood down tight, paused in mid-motion. You be careful. He was, indeed, growing up.

As she had so many times before, she set out alone, taking care, as Anduin had asked, that she was not observed by anyone. She paddled the dinghy to the southwest, navigating the small islands of the area known as Tidefury Cove. The occasional muckshell clacked at her in annoyance, but otherwise the waterways were undisturbed.

Jaina pulled up to the meeting place, surprised to see that Thrall wasn’t present. She felt slightly uneasy. So much had changed. He had given leadership of the Horde to Garrosh. The world had cracked open like an egg, never to be the same again. And a great evil that had burned with hate and madness had rampaged across Azeroth to, finally, be defeated.

The wind shifted, caressing her face and blowing the hood off despite the fact that she had tied it securely beneath her chin. Her cloak billowed back from her slender frame, and suddenly Jaina smiled. The wind was warm and smelled of apple blossoms, and before she quite realized what happened, it had lifted her out of the dinghy like a large, gentle hand. She did not struggle; she knew she was perfectly safe. Cradling her, the wind deposited her on the shore with the same care it had displayed when picking her up. Not a drop of muddy water had touched so much as the toe of her boot.

He stepped out from his place of concealment behind a rock, and Jaina realized she still hadn’t grown used to his new appearance. Instead of armor, Thrall, son of Durotan, wore simple robes. Red prayer beads encircled his throat. His large head with black hair was covered by a plain hood. The robes revealed part of his powerful green chest, and his arms were bare. He was indeed a shaman now, not a warchief. Only the Doomhammer, strapped to his back, was familiar to her.

He held out his hands, and Jaina took them.

“Lady Proudmoore,” he said, his blue eyes warm with welcome. “Long has it been since we met so.”

“Long indeed, Thrall,” she said in agreement. “Perhaps too long.”

“I am Go’el,” he said, reminding her gently. Slightly chagrined, she nodded.

“My apologies. Go’el it shall be.” She looked around. “Where is Eitrigg?”

“He is with the warchief,” Go’el said. “While I now am leader of the Earthen Ring, I serve humbly. I do not think of myself as greater than any other member.”

A hint of an amused smile quirked her mouth. “Many would consider you much more than a simple shaman,” she said. “I among them. Or are the tales that you allied with four Dragon Aspects to help bring down Deathwing just stories?”

“It was an honor, and a humbling one, to so serve,” Go’el said. Coming from anyone else, the words would have been simple politeness. Jaina knew them to be true. “I merely held the space for the EarthWarder. It was all of us, working together—dragons and brave representatives of every race of this world. The credit for slaying the great monster goes to many.”

Her eyes searched his. “You are content with all your decisions, then.”

“I am,” he said. “If I had not left to join the Earthen Ring, I would not have been prepared to undertake the task that was asked of me.”

She thought of Anduin and his training, which was taking him far away from family and loved ones. “ There is so much going on in the world that I want to be part of right now, but I know I have to stay here. I’m learning something new almost every single day.”

And she had told him he was exactly where he needed to be. Now Go’el was saying the same thing. Part of her agreed with him. Surely the world was much better off without the ravages and terrorizing of Deathwing and the Twilight Cult! And yet…

“Nothing is free, Go’el,” she said. “Your knowledge and skills were bought at a cost. The… orc you left behind in your place had done much harm in your absence. If I have heard about what is going on in Orgrimmar and Ashenvale, surely you must have!”

His mien, which had been deeply peaceful, now looked troubled. “I have heard, of course.”

“And… you do nothing?”

“I have another path,” Go’el said. “You have seen the results of that path. A threat that—”

“Go’el, I hear this, but now that task is over. Garrosh is stirring up trouble between the Alliance and the Horde—trouble that didn’t exist until he started it. I can understand if you don’t wish to undermine him publicly, but—perhaps you and I can work together. Form a summit of sorts. Ask Baine to join us; I know he has no love for what Garrosh is striving for. I could speak with Varian. As of late, he seems to be more reachable. Everyone respects you, even in the Alliance, Go’el. You have earned that respect because of your actions. Garrosh has earned nothing but mistrust and hatred because of his.”

She indicated her cloak, which Go’el had blown about with the wind he had sent to bear her to shore. “You can control the winds as a shaman. But the winds of war are blowing, and if we do not stop Garrosh now, many innocents will pay the price for our hesitation.”

“I know what Garrosh has done,” Go’el said. “But I also know what the Alliance has done. There are innocents, yes, but even you cannot place the blame for the current tensions squarely at Garrosh’s feet. Not all the attacks have been initiated by the Horde. It does not seem to me that the Alliance is working particularly hard to find peace either.”

His voice was still calm but held a warning note. Jaina winced—not at the tone of voice, but at the truth of what was said. “I know,” she said heavily. She dropped down despondently on a rock jutting up from the soil. “There are times when I feel as if my words fall on deaf ears. The only one who seems to be truly interested in forging a lasting peace is Anduin Wrynn—and he’s just fourteen.”

“That is not too young to care about his world.”

“But it is too young to do anything about it,” Jaina said. “It seems as if I am struggling through mud simply to be heard, let alone actually listened to. It’s… difficult to try to be a diplomat and work for real, solid results when the other side won’t acknowledge reason anymore. I feel like a crow cawing in the field. I wonder if it’s just wasted breath.”