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For the Horde. For the Forsaken.
Sylvanas' arm had long grown sore from the weight resting on her shoulder. She was bored out of her mind and absolutely restless after hours of doing naught but act as a pillow. She had so much work to do; all of it piled up on her desk and only becoming more and more intimidating as the minutes ticked by. She had many letters to send, most pleading for help from various civilizations all over Azeroth in fighting Azshara. She had multiple meetings that were slowly approaching, both to ensure the peace and to ensure the future for her people.
For the Horde. For the Forsaken.
But what she was doing was good for her people as well. It was good for the Horde as a whole, so it was a sacrifice that she had to make in order to keep the reluctant peace between the factions. And that was certainly the only reason why she was allowing Jaina Proudmoore to take a nap practically on top of her. Because otherwise, who knew what the mage would do with such little sleep and so much arcane power? If she didn't rest, cuddling Sylvanas like her life depended on it, she may just destroy Azeroth altogether.
And she was cuddling Sylvanas as though her life depended on it. Her head rested on her right shoulder; one of her arms wrapped tightly around Sylvanas' torso while the other was tucked between the two women. Her legs were tangled in with the elf's, making it hard to tell whose feet were whose from under the covers. Her hair, usually kept so neat using a tiny portion of her magic, had all but fallen out of the braid and was clinging to her wet lips as she snored softly. The mascara that she had applied now streaked her face, not unlike Sylvanas' own marks.
Truly, this was a great sacrifice that she was making. She would have to rub it in Greymane's face at their meeting later that day, that she had been forced to cuddle with Lady Proudmoore just to keep the peace between their factions going. Though perhaps his reaction would cause another war.
That would almost be worth it.
It seemed more and more unlikely that she would be able to make any of her meetings today, however. She had one meeting with Nathanos and his Dark Rangers come 2:00, to resolve whether they would induct new rangers into their ranks. At 3:00, she had a meeting set with all of the leaders of the Alliance and Horde to discuss opening more trade routes between kingdoms, then a meeting at 4:30 with Anduin alone, just to review how the previous meeting had gone.
Oh how she dreaded that meeting.
After centuries of life and death, Sylvanas had picked up a rather keen sense of telling the time from the position of the sun alone. She glanced out the large windows of their room and looked to the skies. It looked to be about 1:45, give or take a few minutes, and Jaina didn't seem to plan on waking up anytime soon. Typically, when Sylvanas lowered herself to sharing a bed with the woman, she was able to slip away in the morning. Her combination of Elvish grace and Forsaken placidity made it very rare for her to wake Jaina when she did need to leave. However, they typically weren't so close, and she knew that there was no way to shift out of the woman's grasp without waking her.
And waking her would bring the destruction of Azeroth, so she stayed.
For the Horde. For the Forsaken.
It was also good for Jaina. She was a busy woman with many titles and many tasks to do, and the rise of Azshara and Nazjatar had only increased the workload of the archmage. It seemed like every hour she was opening a new portal to travel between Stormwind, Orgrimmar, Kul Tiras, Zuldazar, and the new construction that the two had ordered in Lordaeron. She shared many of the same responsibilities that Sylvanas had, and was constantly negotiating peace between the factions and asking around to other parts of Azeroth to aid them in their coming war. Unlike Sylvanas, though, she had a great deal of naval expertise, and was working on combining the Kul Tiran and Zandalari navies to sail to Nazjatar.
Not to mention that the previous night, the woman had slept for just shy of four hours as she had worked on treaties. In fact, Sylvanas couldn't remember a single time in the past month that Jaina had slept through the full night, getting all eight hours of sleep that was recommended for humans. She could count the amount of times on her fingers that Jaina had gotten enough sleep in the year and a half that they had been married thus far. It was almost a running joke of theirs - if Sylvanas ever did joke - that she constantly pestered the mage to take a nap.
At least she could rub this in her face as well. After so long fighting about this issue, she had won. She almost smiled.
Jaina snored a bit louder, causing Sylvanas' gaze to drop down to her. A bit of drool leaked from her mouth, falling onto the skin just below Sylvanas' shoulder. After so long of being a high elf, Sylvanas couldn't help but stick her nose up at such an undignified manner of sleeping. How disgusting, she thought, using her free hand to wipe away the wet spot. After a moment of consideration, she decided against wiping it on Jaina's face, and instead reluctantly wiped her hand on the comforter.
Now she would have to wash that. Just another sacrifice that she would make.
For the Horde. For the Forsaken.
She turned her head and pressed a soft kiss to Jaina's forehead, relieved when it didn't wake the woman.
"For the Horde," Sylvanas murmured softly, the words hardly making a sound. She tenderly brushed Jaina's back with her thumb as she looked up to the ceiling, resigning herself to her fate.