Chapter Text
Garona said, “Before I take you on, I want to hear everything.”
Jaina sat awkwardly across from her. They were in Garona’s territory, in her cramped room in the Hall of Shadows, but she was trying not to think about that. She shifted in the hard wooden chair. “Is this necessary? I only--”
“I want to know what I’m getting myself into.” Garona folded her arms. “If you want me to teach you, don’t you owe me so much?”
Jaina sighed through her nose, thinking. How to explain this? She’d been cast aside by every friend and ally she’d previously had. Theramore was in ruins, her position in the Kirin Tor gone, and Kul Tiras might have sunk into the waves for all she knew. Varian was dead, (Go’el was never an option, of course not), Khadgar was occupied organizing the resistance to the Legion after the failure on the Broken Shore. Her city was overrun by the people who had most recently destroyed her life, and even Kalec had left to involve himself in the latest apocalypse. He’d chastised her before he’d gone, ‘teasingly’ telling her to not get into trouble before kissing her cheek and flying off. As if he wasn’t collaborating with the Horde, as if she hadn’t been staying uninvolved for his sake, as if he hadn’t forced her to choose between a life with him and--
She stretched her fingers out to soothe their sudden cramping. “I’m not going to let the Legion do as they please. But I can’t act openly anymore. I’m going to pick off their officers, one by one.”
Garona nodded. “A worthy hunt. I’d think your magic would make you more than capable.”
“For killing them, yes. But avoiding their wards and traps is something else. I won’t have an army to direct their attention.”
“True enough. But why do you come to me ? The Rogue’s Academy was made for students like you.”
“It’s not discreet enough. This can’t become public.” The thought of the heads of the Alliance staring at her with pity in their eyes, thinking about how far the good Lady Proudmoore had fallen that she couldn’t just ask for their help--like she was just being a little unreasonable, like there was some charity they could offer her that would make her feel better--
“I killed your king’s father.” Garona didn’t even blink as she said it.
Jaina took a deep breath. “You did, under duress.”
“But I did. And I’m half-orc.”
It was a bit of a sticking point, Jaina admitted to herself. “My understanding was that you’d left the Horde. Was that wrong?”
“No.”
“Were you going to return to them?”
Garona snorted. “Absolutely not.”
“Then there isn’t a problem.”
Garona considered this for a while, studying Jaina. Jaina observed her back. She focused briefly on the beginnings of crow’s feet around her eyes--they were about the same age, she realized. How young had Garona been when she’d killed Varian’s father? How young had Jaina been, when he’d died? There were days when that felt like another person’s life. Another person with bright eyes and a keen sense of the good in the world. It wasn’t something she felt lately. If that person who fought Mannoroth had known what the world she’d saved would do to her--she still wouldn’t have faltered. She’d have chosen this path all the same. It had to be done. But it was oddly comforting to see the same wear on someone else’s face. Someone else made the same choice and paid for it. It made her feel less alone.
“There are many who could teach you. Any of them would be easier for you to learn from. Why me?” Garona uncrossed her arms and leaned forward, still watching Jaina.
Jaina looked down at her aching fingers. The woman who killed Mannoroth would have been earnest and brave. She was always open with her allies even when conventional wisdom disagreed. She’d like to be that woman again.
Jaina looked back up and squarely met Garona’s eyes. “I’m tired of losing so much to the Legion. It’s time for them to repay me. I think you understand.”
The silence draped itself around them. Jaina kept the other woman’s unreadable gaze even as the suspense hung on her shoulders. She counted the seconds, heartbeat to heartbeat, feeling them slide down her back. Finally Garona chuckled and leaned back. “I think I do. Hm. Then be here at sunrise tomorrow.”
Jaina let herself feel the slightest twinge of hope. “And your payment?”
“Demon blood. I think we can make it rain.” She grinned--Jaina saw that Garona had dimples. The effect was very charming paired with her tusks. She let herself slowly smile back.
“I hope so. I hear it makes a lovely ink.”