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You Are Not Alone
Part 1
Anduin dismissed them all with a grin, concluding the final meeting of the new world order. The war against each other and the old gods had finally ended. Dinner afterwards was casual, surprisingly so, since they had just achieved world peace.
Jaina mingled amongst her colleagues and friends, saying goodbye to a few and see you later to others. She was staying in Stormwind for a while as Anduin’s advisor. As the night went on, the crowd dwindled until it was just her, Anduin, and Sylvanas.
They had begun a game of cards, one that included the elimination of one player every round. So, when Anduin lost, he said his good nights to the two women and left them to finish. Over the years, Jaina had learned to respect the undead elf’s intelligence and wit. As an enemy, Sylvanas was ghastly, but as an ally, she was just as formidable. Now in relative silence, she gave into Sylvanas’ strategy and laid down her cards.
“Good game.” She said, reaching across the table to shake her hand. Sylvanas smiled and shook it.
“Good game indeed.” Sylvanas’ ears twitched forward and her smile turned teasing. “It’s a shame you aren’t so easy to beat on the battlefield.” The candlelight caught the tips of Sylvanas’ fangs. Jaina’s stomach dropped before she recovered enough to reply.
“I almost had you with my King of Hearts, even you can’t deny that.” Jaina rolled her eyes. “And we both know I’d win if we played another game.”
“Do we?” Sylvanas swept the cards into her hands and began to shuffle. “Perhaps we should summon a bottle of wine if we agree to continue.”
Jaina agreed and flagged down one of the servants tidying up after the feast. When she returned, bottle and glasses in hand, Sylvanas was dealing out the cards in elven fashion. By alternating the deal in groups of two and three at a time, she reduced the chance of thousand year old elves cheating at overplayed games.
“You didn’t rig the deal, did you?” Jaina teased as she poured them both a glass.
“I only cheat with my close friends, or if my opponent cheats first.” Sylvanas answered, reaching for the glass Jaina handed to her. “So you have nothing to worry about. Thank you.” She sipped the wine, her ears relaxed. “A chardonnay?”
“Yes, from Zandalar, I believe.”
“It’s very good,” Sylvanas motioned to the cards. “Please, begin.”
Jaina did win that game, but Sylvanas won the next. At that point, the bottle was dwindling, Sylvanas had drunk most of it, and the two of them were actually laughing together.
“Vereesa did that?” Jaina wiped a few tears of merriment from her eyes.
“She did!” Sylvanas cracked up with her, though not as violently. “The best part is that Alleria never found out- she thought it was a coincidence! I’m pretty sure everyone else knew though.” They chuckled for a while longer before lapsing into silence. The quiet was refreshing for a moment, but then guilt crept between Jaina’s ribs. Despite everything, Sylvanas was healing. But, Jaina could have prevented it all, if she had done something, anything, differently, Sylvanas might still be alive.
“It’s good to remember,” Sylvanas smiled, fondness softening her blazing gaze. “Before… recently, it was difficult to even think about anything from that time. So thank you… for reminding me.” Jaina tensed, the guilt clawing its way into her heart.
“Sylvanas?” Jaina bit the inside of her cheek. It bled. Elven ears pricked forward, attention focused solely on her.
“Yes?”
“Look, I know it’s been years, but I’m… I’m sorry. For what happened to you.” Jaina stared at a knot in the wooden table. “Arthas and I were close then, but when he started… when he attacked, I didn’t stop him. I knew it was wrong, that he was losing his mind, but I loved him, Tides, I loved him, So I didn’t say anything and I should have, should have done something to stop him!”
“Jaina-” Sylvanas tried to stop her rant, but Jaina just kept going.
“If I had said the right thing, I could have saved you. You would still be alive right now if I had just spoken up!”
“Jaina, stop.” Sylvanas tried again.
“I hate that even now, I don’t hate him, that I was in love with him! I hate what he did, what I didn’t stop, what I couldn’t stop. I wish I hated him!” Jaina’s hands balled into fists on the table and she trembled with tension. “And I hated you because you are proof that the man I loved was beyond redemption. He made you into something evil, formed you into something that hurt me. He made you end so many lives, I hated you for it. But I think I just hated that I failed, that I didn’t try hard enough to change his mind. You didn’t deserve any of this. You were just defending your country. You shouldn’t have died!”
She didn’t realize she was crying until hot tears were running down her face. The sobs caught in her throat and she leaned forward, shuddering with the force of them. Dimly, she heard Sylvanas move. Clothes rustled and her chair squeaked as she pushed it back. A hand rested on her shoulder and another lifted her elbow to help her stand. Cold, lifeless hands that Jaina could have saved. Through her tears, Jaina looked into Sylvanas’ eyes. They glowed a silvery blue now, not red like before.
“I’m going to hug you now.” Sylvanas told her, her voice so soft the dual tone of it almost disappeared. Her arms wrapped around Jaina and held on tight. Jaina sobbed, clutching at Sylvanas’ jacket and tucking her face into the crook of Sylvanas’ neck.
“I’m so sorry!” Jaina wept. Sylvanas rubbed her back in slow circles.
“Please stop blaming yourself for his actions. This burden isn’t yours to carry, nor was his choice yours to make. He chose to let his greed consume him, to accept the Lich King’s crown. He made the choice to destroy my home, my people, and me. That was all him. All him.” Her hand stilled on Jaina’s back for a moment as she considered her next words. “All you did was love him as best you could with what you had, and he broke your heart, betrayed you. He betrayed us all, and himself.” She began to stroke Jaina’s hair then, gentle and slow. “Just, let it go. Let him go. Let yourself go.”
All of the pain Jaina had borne for the past five years spilled onto Sylvanas’ shoulder. Finally, she shed all the tears that she’d promised she’d cry later. All the while, Sylvanas held her and held her and held her until there were no tears left for her to cry.
Another time, Sylvanas would have cried too. Now though, she let Jaina do all the crying for her. She had had her catharsis, had mostly made her peace with the tragedy of her life and death. She had confronted the soul of the man who had killed her and tortured her. But Jaina, poor Jaina, had not.
When Jaina’s tears finally slowed and her shuddering breaths turned to sighs, Sylvanas rubbed her back for a little while longer. Then, she pulled back to look at the pretty mage. Caressing Jaina’s cheeks, she wiped away the tears and offered a napkin to Jaina for the other liquids on her face.
“Do you feel a little better now?” Sylvanas asked, as she redid Jaina’s braid. When she’d tucked the last stray hairs behind her ears, Jaina nodded. “Good.” Stepping away, Sylvanas missed the warmth of the living woman. Jaina hugged herself. Sylvanas knew that feeling. That rawness that comes after weeping. For a moment there was silence between them, but Sylvanas knew there were more words to be spoken.
“You are not alone,” Sylvanas smiled, a sad smile. “And if… if you need something, I am here. The Lich King caused both of us much pain, the least we can do is help each other.” Jaina nodded in response, her eyes glazed as her mind took her far away. She shivered in the night air and Sylvanas had to restrain herself from taking the mage into her arms again. “Can I walk you to your rooms?” Sylvanas asked, brushing her fingers against Jaina’s shoulder. Again, Jaina simply nodded and allowed herself to be led to her rooms.
Once there, Sylvanas hugged her one last time. Then, she left Jaina standing in the doorway, unsure of everything.
Part 2
The silence that followed was deafening. Someone gasped and Sylvanas turned away. Jaina turned to Greymane in horror.
“How dare you?” Jaina stammered, unable to fathom what he had just said. “How… How dare you?!” Her voice rose and she too turned away, stalking after the wounded banshee. She searched the halls and finally found her outside in the garden, slumped on a bench with her head in her hands.
The grass was cool against Jaina’s bare feet as she made her way to Sylvanas. The night wind touched her face and disturbed the flyaway hairs that had escaped from her braid. It stirred Sylvanas’ hair too and it covered her hands, shielding her from view. The breeze did nothing to hide the unsteady rise and fall of the Warcheif’s shoulders or disguise the sound of quiet sobs. Jaina’s heart seized at the sight. Despite everything, a deep respect for the weeping woman in front of her had formed over the last year. A respect that had become an unlikely friendship.
“Sylvanas?” Though her voice was soft, naught but a whisper, it seemed too loud for the quiet garden. Shoulders stiffened and Sylvanas looked up and met Jaina’s gaze. She shook her head slowly and slumped forward again.
“What do you want?” Power usually echoed within that voice. Now it was hoarse and defeated.
“Nothing.” Jaina took a few more steps forward and then paused. “Just to make sure my friend is alright.” Sylvanas’ head shot up.
“Your friend,” She growled. “Is most definitely not alright.” For all the baring of teeth and glowing blue eyes, Sylvanas’ voice still lacked its usual punch. Jaina took the final steps forward and sank to the ground at Sylvanas’ feet.
“I know.” She said, and took the former elf’s hand. “And so I’m here.” Whether it was the gentle touch or the words, Jaina didn’t know, but whatever had been holding Sylvanas together snapped. She slid off the bench and into Jaina’s arms like she had no strength left. Jaina wrapped her arms around her trembling friend and held her tight. Sylvanas sobbed like she hadn’t sobbed in years, which perhaps she hadn’t. Translucent black tears stained the white shoulder of Jaina’s dress, but she didn’t care. Sylvanas shuddered with every sob which only made Jaina hold on tighter. They were pressed together, hip to hip and breast to breast, but Jaina had a feeling that Sylvanas needed this- needed to feel close to something warm and alive- and she was all too happy to give.
Eventually the shuddering sobs ceased and were replaced with short hiccups from an underused diaphragm. The tears had long since soaked through Jaina’s dress, but she could feel more silently slipping from Sylvanas’ eyes. Jaina’s hand found Sylvanas’ hair and began stroking, offering what little comfort she could. The cold tears stopped for a moment then resumed, but soon petered off altogether. The hiccups continued which was the cutest noise Jaina had ever heard from Sylvanas. The soft squeaks were the only sounds for a while and Jaina treasured every single one.
Sylvanas’ body seemed to be drained of all strength. She simply sagged against Jaina, head heavy in the crook of her neck. A few times she tried to lift her head, but simply let it drop back down.
Sometimes Jaina struggled with silence, but this time she let it surround them. Words were too harsh for such a moment, especially after the humiliation of the ball and what Greymane had said. Finally, Sylvanas pushed Jaina away, sitting up on her own, and wiped her face on her sleeve. The tear stains overwrought the permanent ones etched on her cheeks and covered her whole face. Her eyes had dimmed to a soft gray, rather then glowing with arcane power.
The silence stretched on between them, each unsure of what to say, yet knowing that something must be said. Jaina was the first to break the quiet.
“I don’t think you’re a monster.” She looked at her shining blue skirts and the dark purple of Sylvanas’.
“But I am one.” Sylvanas said, with defeat. Jaina inhaled, ready to protest, but Sylvanas kept talking. “I can still see everything.” She closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose. “Smell the smoke. It's all in my head and it never stops.” She paused and Jaina blinked at her. Blue eyes opened. “In my mind, I had to burn it. The tree had to fall. That was the only way I could stop the fighting, you see? I was angry. I am angry. But even when I apologize, when I’m honest with myself, they don’t understand.
“I couldn’t feel anything. My soul… The Jailer told me I had to take Darnassus and I listened. He held the part of me I wanted back. The part that feels. The part that breathes. Without it… war is just the same old theme. Time and time again we fight for the same old reasons. I fought then because that was the only thing I could do, there was no rest and I didn’t see how I could ever rest. Then, he promised me that piece of me that would give me that rest. So I told myself, it wasn’t me I was hurting. It wasn’t my family I was slaughtering, like the trolls did all those years ago. Like I wasn’t the very thing I hated most.
“But now… my mother would look at me the way Greymane did tonight. I know she would. She would hang her head and weep for the child she once had, that person that was taken. And the silence that would follow?” Sylvanas chuckled bitterly. “Violence causes silence, Jaina. No one knows what to say, not Alleria, not Vereesa, not even you. But still, the violence plays on in my head. I can hear their screams- oh, how they cried! How they hoped as they lay dying!” Sylvanas paused, breathing deep so she didn’t wail. “One of them grieved for me as she lay dying and I turned her face towards the flames so she could watch her people burn.”
Jaina let out one, soft, gasp.
“I am a monster. I am a zombie, just like Greymane said. I deserve every insult, every murderous glare.” Sylvanas closed her eyes again and shuddered. “I don’t know how to be anything different in their eyes.”
“Maybe it’s not their eyes that matter.” Jaina said softly. Her own lightly glowing eyes met Sylvanas’. “Just the ones that matter to you.” Sylvanas’ brows furrowed, so Jaina continued. “I saw the things you did and you know how I hated you for them, but I don’t hate you now. You let me cry on your shoulder, a monster wouldn’t do that. You offered me that shoulder to lean on anytime I needed something, which isn’t something a zombie would do. I don’t know what makes you, you. But I do know this: you are not the sum of your mistakes, but of the things you hold closest to your heart. If those things are your mistakes, you can change them. I know because I did. So, if you want to talk more about that process we can, but I think we should wait until later.”
“Thank you.” Sylvanas murmured and she smiled a little through her tears, which had restarted during Jaina’s little speach. Jaina reached out and hugged her again.
“You’re still breathing.” She noted. Sylvanas’ ears pricked up and then she smiled.
“I suppose I am.” She sucked in a deep breath. “It feels good to breathe. Even if I don’t need to.”
“That’s good to know.” Jaina leaned back and poked her sternum. Sylvanas’ ears pricked up again and then relaxed.
“I’m sorry for ruining your dress.” Sylvanas tried in vain to brush the dark tear stains from Jaina’s shoulder, but Jaina pushed her hand away.
“Don’t be. It’s uncomfortable anyway.” Silence fell between them again, growing more awkward by the moment. Finally, Sylvanas stood and held out a hand for Jaina.
“I’m just going to head back to my rooms.” Sylvanas said, her mouth twitching. “Will you do the same?”
“Probably.” Jaina sighed, looking back toward the party. “I don’t think I can go back there and be civil.”
“I’ll walk you back to your rooms then.” Sylvanas began walking and Jaina trotted after her.
“You don’t have to do that.” Jaina protested, catching Sylvanas by the shoulder. Sylvanas, though, turned to face her with a quiet, stubborn set to her jaw.
“Consider it a thank you.” They held each other’s stare for a moment before Jaina allowed Sylvanas to lead her back to her rooms. Once there, Sylvanas offered Jaina a shallow bow, “Good night, Lord Admiral,” And left her where she stood.
“Good night!” Jaina called after her, before hurrying into her room. She found herself staring at her reflection in the floor length mirror. The black tear-stains on her shoulder had sunk into the fabric. The only physical reminder that Sylvanas had ever cried. She knew that Sylvanas would want her to practically forget that this had happened. That was impossible. Maybe she would only have the memory and the dress, but she knew she had gained a friend that night. A true friend who would come to her aid at a moment’s notice, no matter what.