Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Sounds like you'll be keeping busy! Just don't leave without saying goodbye. I've missed you, old friend,” Jaina said.

“Count on it, Jaina. Be seeing you,” Khadgar smiled as he stepped back and transformed into a raven.

Khadgar winged his way out over Oribos, intending to circle around before heading up to the next level to look for appropriate transport. Turning back, he spied Jaina again, still standing where he’d found her moments before, staring out towards the swirling Maw far beneath them.

His keen avian vision watched her take a step closer to the edge.

And then another.

With a panicked caw, Khadgar dove back towards her. His wings gently batted at her face on arrival, followed closely by a small spell pushing her backward, away from the edge.

Khadgar transformed the moment his feet hit the platform. He grabbed Jaina by the shoulders, assuring himself that she could not get close to the edge again. “You nearly fell, Jaina!” Her thousand-yard stare met his gaze, and he immediately shifted from angry panic to concern. "Jaina, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“He’s gone, Khadgar,” Jaina whispered.

“Gone? Who’s gone?” He asked.

“Anduin,” she answered, “he left.”

Khadgar gaped at her, then, remembering where they were, erected a privacy dome around them. It hid their presence and passively compelled anyone nearby to go in another direction.

“Where has he gone?” Khadgar asked.

“The Maw… to speak with Sylvanas,” she explained, her eyes still distant, “after that, I don’t know.”

“But you just got him back! Why didn’t you stop him?!” Khadgar asked harshly.

“How could I?” Jaina finally looked up at him, anguish in every inch of her features. “What right do I have, of anyone on Azeroth, to stop him from leaving?”

“Because you just rescued him from Sylvanas and Zovaal,” Khadgar gritted his teeth but understood her reasoning. It hadn’t been all that long ago that Jaina had disappeared, seemingly off the face of Azeroth, after the Legion invaded. The losses on The Broken Shores and the readmission of the Horde to Dalaran had torn open old wounds so deeply that Jaina could not bring herself to stay.

“He doesn’t know who he is anymore,” Jaina said. “Everything he thought he knew about himself has been shattered thanks to those two. So he left… to figure out who he is now.”

Khadgar heaved a deep, heavy sigh before giving her a firm but gentle hug. “He’s a strong lad. I’m sure he will find himself, just as you did.”

“But I had my magic Khadgar. I could protect myself!” Jaina exclaimed. “Anduin…” she faltered, looking hollow, “he doesn’t even have the Light anymore.” She gritted her teeth, “I want to go with him. To protect him. To give him company. The road he travels hurts, Khadgar.” Swallowing hard, she continued, “But he wouldn’t let me go with him.” Her hands clutched at his robes, “What do I do?! I can’t force him back! I can’t… I can’t lose him. I couldn’t save his father. I couldn’t protect him from Sylvanas. I…I….”

“It sounds to me like you have a choice to make,” Khadgar said, remaining calm in the midst of her turmoil. “You could, against his wishes, follow him. Be his companion and his protector as he wanders. You could stay here and worry. Let his absence slowly consume you until you are lost to despair. I know what that boy means to you and what his loss could do to your heart if, Light forbid, he perishes.” Khadgar tightened his grip on Jaina as he prepared the final option. “Or, you can do the hardest of them all and let him go. Steel your heart against the love you have for that boy, and turn away, if only to save yourself from further torment.”

Jaina trembled as she slowly dissolved into tears. Khadgar held her close and let her cry, to mourn the loss of the young boy she’d watched grow up to become king far too soon.

He’d read all the reports from everyone who’d been captured and imprisoned in the Maw. Their time there had been unspeakable. They’d been tortured, beaten, and abused, only to be healed and have it done to them all over again. It was a miracle any of them were sane. He prayed Anduin’s departure did not send Jaina over the edge, physically or psychologically.

After a few moments, Jaina pulled away, “Forgive me, Khadgar. That was… unbecoming of me.”

“Perish the thought, Jaina. After what you’ve been through, I’m impressed all you’re doing is crying, and over something so valid.” Khadgar told her, “Shall I stay a while, keep you company while you decide what you’ll do?”

To her credit, she did mull over his offer for a moment before shaking her head, “No, I’ll be all right, but thank you.”

“You’ve already decided, then?”

“I suppose I’ve known from the start,” Jaina said as she stared out over the abyss towards the Maw. "I just needed to hear it from someone else, so I was certain it wasn’t the wrong choice.” She closed her eyes, and for a moment, her face bore so much pain that Khadgar felt his own heartbreak for her.

When she opened them, the pain was gone, locked away so deeply the older mage worried there would be consequences for it later. “Forgive me for keeping you, Khadgar. I’ll be okay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, go have some fun,” Jaina gave him a smile, but it did not reach her eyes.

Khadgar nodded, “Do this old man a favor and stay away from the edge.”

Jaina’s laugh was a rasping bark, “That’s fair.”

Stepping back, Khadgar changed into his raven form and fluttered around her for a moment, “Take care, Jaina,” he paused, hovering right in front of her, “May you find peace.”

“You too, Khadgar, take care,” Jaina said hoarsely.

Winging away, Khadgar did one final circle nearby, watching, making sure she stayed well back from the edge. He was pleased to see she did, but continued to stare down towards the Maw. With a sigh, Khadgar soared away, letting her say her goodbyes in private.

Chapter Text

Finding him was easy. Jaina always seemed to know where he was after working so hard to track him in the Shadowlands. It had been a comfort and a curse during the long years of his wandering, but only having to sit back and think of him, to know his location and that he was alive, had kept her going.

Today, he sat in the shade of a tree in Arathi, high up on a bluff overlooking the fields below. The day was quiet, the only sound being the light breeze that rustled the long grass and the leaves on the branches above.

Jaina said nothing as she approached, as had become their custom. Words hurt too much to speak, and she knew her presence both soothed and tortured him. It was why their visits were always brief.

He’d cut his hair short. It was messy and uneven, likely done with a knife in a fit of rage or despair. While it hurt Jaina’s heart to see the blond locks, grown long in the image of his father, removed, she understood why. It reminded him of the time he’d been under the Jailor’s control, forced to fight alongside the fractured soul of Arthas Menethil. She only had to envision him looking in the mirror, seeing the fallen prince’s face flash before his eyes, to understand his need to change his appearance.

She sat down beside him. Not so near that they touched, but close enough to feel like she was with him. As always, he stiffened at her closeness. Not out of disdain for her presence, but in fear at the possibility that he might hurt her. Anduin carried an unconscionable amount of guilt toward the people he’d attacked or killed during his enslavement. A good portion of that guilt surrounded the times he’d attacked and tried to kill her, both in the Maw as champions dealt with Sylvanas, and again in the Sepulcher of the First Ones. The Jailer had tried so hard to kill them, and Anduin’s disgust at his feelings of elation at the strength and power he’d wielded only made his guilt and confusion worse.

She shifted, letting herself lean against the tree and listen to the breeze rustle the leaves above. It would have been a lovely day if it had been any other situation. But sadness blanketed them like a heavy cloak, darkening the peace and beauty.

Movement caught her eye, and Jaina looked just in time to see Anduin raise his hand and move it toward her. She froze, waiting, hoping, and praying he was about to end the distance between them and come home with her, if not to Stormwind, then at least to Boralus.

His hand was mere inches from hers when it stopped. It began to tremble, then pulled away quickly as if burned. Jaina opened her mouth to tell him it was okay and that he wouldn’t hurt her. Her voice died in her throat, knowing how meaningless the words would sound. It wasn’t that she couldn’t defend herself, but that he didn’t trust himself. She didn’t pressure him, but her heart cried in silence all the same.

As with most of her visits, it seemed this one would only last a few minutes. Swallowing tears, Jaina stood and dropped a leather bag in his lap. It was filled with food and medical supplies since she knew he couldn't call on the Light to aid him. It also carried a note, a short message that spoke the words she couldn’t say out loud. Jaina always left similar notes whenever she visited him and ensured he had what he needed.

My Dearest Nephew,

You are deeply loved, Anduin, and sorely missed.

Always, for as long as you’ll have me,
~ Aunt Jaina.

She was only about halfway back to the portal she’d left open when the sound of his wail sent a spike of guilt through her heart, and she stumbled, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle a sob at the depth of the despair in his voice. She wanted to turn back and run to him. To hold him close, to chase away all of his anger and hurt, and to free him from the guilt that imprisoned his heart and soul.

Instead, with tears still steadily running down her cheeks, Jaina stepped back through the portal and left him to himself.

Chapter Text

Rain was pattering steadily against the windows in the Lord Admiral's office, a harmonizing staccato against the warmth crackling away in the hearth. Jaina stood, slowly pacing, as she read over reports of pirate sightings and other damages caused by their raids around Tiragard Sound.

A knock at her door followed by its opening brought a guard’s voice announcing, “Mathias Shaw to see you, Lord Admiral.”

“Send him in,” Jaina replied as she strode back to her desk.

Shaw marched in with a purpose and stood at attention before her.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Shaw?” Jaina asked.

“I thought you’d be pleased to know Anduin has finally been spotted in Rachet,” Shaw got right to the point, “My scouts lost him in the Barrens, but now that we have a starting point, they should be able to find him again.”

Jaina set down the scroll she had been reading with a small, knowing smile, “He’s finally getting sloppy.”

“Getting sloppy,” Shaw repeated, then scoffed indignantly, “Have you known his location this entire time?!”

“Come now, Shaw, what kind of mage do you take me for?” Jaina raised a delicate white brow as she sat down at her desk.

“But if you knew his location, why didn’t you come forward?” Shaw growled.

“He needed time,” Jaina answered calmly as she rested her elbows on the desk and steepled her fingers together. “What happened to him destroyed his sense of self. How could I ask him to stay when he desperately needed to figure out who he was.” She looked away before quietly adding, “Like I did.”

“That was different,” Shaw insisted.

“Truly?” She queried, “I didn’t know who I was either, Shaw. I’d lost so much, and my heart was so full of pain and rage that the things that normally brought me comfort no longer did… or couldn’t. Had I stayed, I would have been a dangerous distraction for anyone who tried to help me.” Her unspoken words made Shaw pale slightly. The person most likely to try to help her would have been Anduin, and the possibility of her hurting him, even by accident, would have been a travesty to all parties involved.

“And you believe he would have done the same thing had he stayed or been found early?” Shaw asked.

“Whether I believe that or not isn't the point,” Jaina said. “It’s what he thought he might do. I and a few others would be able to defend ourselves from him, but the common populace? The people in Stormwind Keep? Had he reacted poorly and hurt someone, or worse, he would have lost himself for good.” Jaina looked away, “That is why I’ve told no one where he’s been.”

Shaw sighed through his nose as he folded his arms over his chest before he said, “Promise me this, Jaina; at the very least, when the time comes, will you go get him? Will you bring him home?”

“I will not go myself,” she answered, “But I will send someone to get him. I promise.”

“I suppose that’s the best answer I could have hoped for,” Shaw said. He nodded toward her, “I will leave you to your work then.” He turned and left without another word.

“See you soon, Shaw.”

When she was sure he was gone, Jaina opened her desk drawer and withdrew a beautifully crafted yet slightly battered compass. It had been a birthday gift from Anduin to his father, with the initials of Lane Wrynn etched on it as an homage to his late grandfather. It had nearly been lost when the airship Varian had been aboard crashed on its way to the Broken Shore. Later, after all the losses, it had been recovered by an adventurer and returned to the young king. It had been repaired and kept with him always.

He’d dropped it after an attempt at rescuing him from the Jailer. With some time, Jaina had been able to unlock the memory Anduin had stored within it, letting them know he was still there beneath Zovaal’s domination.

Jaina had kept it ever since.

Slowly, Jaina let her fingers trace over the intricate patterns and lion paws before mustering up the courage to open it. The needle within swayed lazily northward, but its direction was not her goal. Instead, she focused on the miniature oil painting of Anduin on the inside of the lid, and her heart ached and melted all at once. He’d only just become a teenager when the portrait had been painted, and he still retained the features of his youth. His gentle gaze held her transfixed for several moments before she tore her gaze away and closed it. Sighing deeply, Jaina hugged the compass to her heart and let her love for both Wrynns warm the cold emptiness she knew would cling to her until the end of her days.