A Most Dangerous Game

A late winter sun rose over the horizon, bringing with it the first promises of Spring to Stormwind. The people who rose to start their business were lifted by its appearance, as they always were. The winter had been long, hard and dark, and so had their spirits. Having been huddling together for warmth for what had seemed an eternity, it was nice to be able to go outside without as many layers, to breathe the fresh air and feel the sun again.



Up in the castle, on one of the high towers, the sun reflected making it seem to glow with an ethereal glow that had actually been part of the design. The inside however, only received a few strands of light, which managed to flit their way threw the cracks of the heavy wooden shutters. The meager light could not fully penetrate the dark interior, and instead only illuminated the dust particles that were everywhere. It did however, attract the attention of the occupant of a large canopied bed, who began to stir as it entered.



Jaina had made it a habit to wake up with the sun, but during these long winter months she had found herself sleeping later and later into the morning before waking up. As it was, her eyes fluttered open as soon as the light made its appearance and she was at once happy to see it, and annoyed at being awoken so early. She threw back the heavy blanket that was on top of her and reached for the bell that was on her night stand. After ringing for her maid, she tried to hoist herself into a sitting position, but found it was near impossible and made herself lie back and relax.



She stared at her bulging belly. There was a time, not too long ago when she had been quite a small creature, and moving around was not so strenuous as it now was. Since she had begun to grow big with child though, she had found even the simplest tasks to be challenges. Even her magic, once coming to her with ease, was now unpredictable, to the point where her midwives strictly forbade her from using it.



Everything hurt. All the time. At least she had managed to pass the horrible sickness that had gripped her during the first couple of months, when she would wake up and have to rush to the pot to vomit. She felt weak all the time and only wanted to sleep. During her waking hours, she was gripped by an insane form of cabin fever and felt like a bear locked in a cage that was too small for it. Everything was strictly limited and with the dark winter, even moreso.



Her maid, Menea, bustled in. She was a girl from Theramore whom Jaina had chosen to come with her to Stormwind, because she felt she needed someone she knew around. She was tall, sturdy and sharp for her age, which couldn't have been more than sixteen. Immediately she set about laying out Jaina's clothes for the day. It was a simple dress of dyed green wool and a silk shift for underneath. Menea understood that Jaina was a practical woman and especially being pregnant wasn't about to sacrifice comfort for looks, especially when she could barely move around her own apartments.



“The sun is out,” Jaina commented as her maid helped her sit up and then get to her feet.



“Yes your Majesty, although its not terribly warm, its still nicer than it has been lately.”



Jaina nodded and lifted her arms so Menea could get her shift and dress over her head. She longed to go outside, to see the sun again, but she didn't know if she had it in her to have another battle of wills with her midwives about it. On every step she felt she had to fight the restrictions that were placed on her, even if they did know more about pregnancy than she did, she couldn't allow herself to be trapped like this without a fight.



The head midwife, Agnes, and older woman with a sharp shin and piercing eyes, had been a stern and admirable foe and had won out every battle with her. Jaina often felt like she had been beaten down, and then had to remind herself that as sharp tongued as the woman could be, she did know what she was doing.



Menea was busy telling her about what was going on around the palace. Varian had left early in the morning to see to the rebuilding of some of the farms in Darkshire, and would likely be gone all day. Not that it mattered to Jaina, for although he had been perfectly considerate to her, he wasn't that inclined to spend time around her either. He was far too busy and frankly viewed their marriage for what it was. Political. Jaina hated that she was a tool, but knew that she had made her own choice to come here.



“Oh, Prince Anduin came home last night,” Melnea said as she helped ease her mistress down to her chair so she could lace her shoes. Jaina blinked in surprise. Anduin had left court soon after she had married his father, to go to Darnassus and Moonglade for study. He had been interested in the ways of their allies and also in the ways of the Druids. Varian hadn't been overly enthusiastic, but Jaina had thrown in her support for the young prince, saying that the experience would do him good.



“I can have breakfast set up in the garden if you like, and ask the Prince to join you,” Melnea suggested. Jaina smiled, thankful again that the girl had been able to come with her. She nodded her ascent and Melnea stepped outside briefly to have a word with another servant who ran off to make the arrangements. She then helped Jaina to her feet and walked with her to the garden.



The Garden in the Queen's Apartments was a rather small enclosure which got plenty of sun light, but was protected by much of the wind, so while there was a definite chill to the air, it wasn't strikingly cold, and with a brazier set up nearby, easily warm enough for Jaina, even by Agnes' standards she supposed. She carefully, and with a bit of help from Melnea sat back in a large chair at the table near the middle. Then she leaned back and marveled at the feeling of sunlight on her face. It wasn't much, but it was enough to lift her spirits considerably.



Melnea placed a small table next to her and brought her her breakfast. Jaina wrinkled her nose at the herb porridge, but ate it obediently. She longed for fresh fruit, but that was hard to come by in winter, just like everything else. The porridge although not to her liking, did make her feel better as did the tea that she followed it with, and she made herself go through the mental exercises Agnes had suggested to her. She was almost there. Her due date, based on the conception which was probably on her wedding night, which was very auspicious according to the midwives, was soon. She reckoned it would be another couple of weeks although, one of the younger midwives had said to her almost conspiratorially, she could also go into early labor, which while not ideal, was still doable.



“Jaina?” an unfamilar voice shook her out of her reverie and she started slightly when she saw who it belonged to. Anduin, she remembered, was thirteen, just on the threshold of becoming a man, and he had grown considerably since leaving court. He was, she guessed, a full head taller, his shoulders had broadened slightly, becoming much like his father's, and his voice had definitely dipped.

She smiled at him and held her hands out, which he took and kissed with proper deference but also affection.



“I didn't recognize you,” she said, knowing this would please him, “you've grown so much.”



He beamed with pride and just a little bit of self consciousness before turning to a night elf who had been standing some ways behind him. Jaina had completely missed him, but this hardly surprising since Night Elves were known to be quiet. He was young, though who could tell with Night Elves, with only the faint touch of a beard and his hair was dark blue and short. His dark leathers were of fine quality and simple, though she immediately noticed the markings of the Cenarion Circle on them.



“This is Tasor, one of the druids in training at Moonglade,” Anduin said by way of introduction.



“This is my step mother,” the Prince said to his friend, “Her Majesty Jaina Proudmore Wrynn.”



Tasor got down on one knee and took her hand to kiss. Jaina smiled and nodded her head at him, giving him the proper greeting. Now that all the formality was over, they could relax. Anduin and his friend took seats and began to catch up with her. She was more interested to hear about his dealings with the night elves and he was more than happy to oblige.



“I was allowed to see many of the rituals they do in Moonglade, and even learn about their lore. There were Tauren there too, amazingly gentle creatures, though I am told they are fearsome in battle. I can almost see it, rather like a bull when its angry I would think. They told me about Thunder Bluff and Mulgore and about their hunt. I would like to have learned more, but I was there for the druids, so I didn't have as much time as I would have liked.”



He continued on, excitedly, and Jaina found herself beaming with pride. The gathering of knowledge had always been a pursuit of hers and she was glad that her step son shared that joy with her. Tasor was mostly silent, with the occasional helpful prompt of a term or an explanation, but also seemed happy to let Anduin show off what he had learned. They were good friends she could tell and she was glad for it. Anduin needed friends his own age, since he had been thrust too soon in an adult role with the death of his mother and the disappearance of his father he had mostly associated with those much older.



The discussion when on throughout the morning, occasionally pausing when Jaina had to move or visit the chamber pot, something which had been happening more and more frequently. Despite the excitement of the day, she found she was in more pain than usual and more restless. The latter didn't surprise her, after all being outside was a rare treat these days, and hearing about Anduin's travels on top of that was more fun than she had had in months. Still she found she was constantly wanting to get up and move around a bit, something which her maid, Anduin and Tasor were more than happy to help with.



When it came time to lunch, they were ushered indoors, much to Jaina's disappointment, but at least allowed to have a window open. There was dried meat on the table, along with bread and cheese. Jaina ate it, suddenly very hungry, and drank down more of the tea that Anges had proscribed for her. As the afternoon wore on, she found herself getting up more to move around, even if just for a few moments.



Towards the evening, they were in one of the main halls, awaiting Varian's return to the palace. Tasor was playing an old song on his harp which he had brought with him. Jaina and her ladies listened in silence as the beautiful tune played, and she felt herself becoming lost in thought. She thought about Theramore, and how chilly and raw the winters there were, but she found herself missing her old tower, overlooking the swamp and beyond it the mountains that marked the beginning of the barrens. She found herself thinking of Thrall, something she had tried not to since her marriage. She had heard that he had himself married, to Hellscream's cousin from Outland. A lump had formed in her throat when she had first heard, but she dismissed it quickly.



Now she was thinking of it. She remembered how Thrall had wondered if she had loved Varian, and that was why she was marrying him. Did Thrall love his wife? Had he forgotten about her? She remembered the way he had been concerned about hurting her when they had been together. Did he worry about that with another orc? Varian had been different with her, gentle, slowly coaxing her out, rather than the hard and fast way Thrall had taken her. She had no complaints about Varian, but she knew she didn't love him, and probably never would.



She looked down at her bulging belly and put her hand on it. There was a movement, not so strange, that happened a lot, but it was followed by a sharp intense pain that made her double over. She felt the skirt of her dress turn wet suddenly as another pain followed. Immediately there were hands around her, guiding her, but she couldn't walk. As she tried to step forward with them, she felt another pain couldn't move. The world spun and she vaguely realized that someone had picked her up and was carrying her. She looked up and saw that it was the Night Elf.



Jaina was placed down in a bed and she could hear Agnes and the other midwives bustling around her, shooing people out, barking orders and removing her outer dress so she was just in her shift. She tried to concentrate, to breath like she had been told to, and succeeded somewhat, but was wracked with more pain than she thought possible. Anges' voice came to her then, and was a calming influence, a steady point in the sea of pain. She was able to breathe again, and go about the business of giving birth.



What followed though, was what seemed like days of agonizing pain. Her contractions continued into the night, she was walked around, laid back, put on her hands and knees, but still her midwives kept saying she was not ready to push. Exhaustion was taking hold, and each step was becoming harder than the last, each breath more challenging and each contraction more painful.



Anduin waited outside with Tasor, watching the midwives rush in and out. He winced everytime he heard his step mother cry out in pain. He was scared he realized, excited about the possibility of a younger sibling, but scared all the same. Tasor saw this and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, channeling calming energy to him. As the sky darkened, Varian returned back to the palace and rushed into the waiting room, still stinking of horse and sweat.



Agnes stepped out just as he was trying to get in. She put a firm hand on his chest and silently said no. Anduin was amazed that the small, elderly woman was able to command the king himself with nothing more than a gesture and a look, but Varian still nodded and sat with his son. They watched as midwives rushed in and out, quickly losing track of what was coming in and coming out.



Jaina was sure she was going to die. The women had propped her up up onto her knees, repeating again and again that she was almost there. She had stopped believing that hours ago and was convinced that she going to be giving birth forever. In her haze of exhaustion and pain, fear had settled in. Fear for her own life, for her child's life and then, suddenly, that her child would not be Varian's. The thought had crossed her mind several times over the last few months, but she had put them out of her mind. Now, without her normal mental guards in place she was forced to wonder seriously what would happen if the child came out a half orc.



“Push my lady,” came a sudden sharp command and without thinking, she obeyed and bore down.



“Again!”



She pushed down, the pain reaching new heights. Again she pushed and again, screaming and sobbing and praying for an end, even if it was death. She couldn't kneel up on her own anymore and one of the midwives held her from behind, urging her to push down one more time.



She did, and there was a sharp smell of blood, followed by a piercing cry. That was all Jaina knew though, as everything went black.





Anduin had been dozing at his father's side when the screaming had started. He started straight up as he heard his step mother crying and screaming on the other side of the door. Varian did not let his neutral expression drop, something Anduin had come to expect. He felt panic rise up in him, but his father put a reassuring hand on his as they both watched the door, listening.



A final scream was followed by the sharp wail of a baby. A few more minutes passed and Agnes emerged from the room, with a tiny bundle in her arms. Varian stood up and accepted the bundle, showing it to Anduin as well. A small pink baby, with just a bit of dark fuzz on his scalp.



“A boy my lord,” Agnes said proudly, “strong and healthy.”



Varian smiled down at the child, who was finally beginning to calm down.



“And the Queen,” he asked.



“A difficult birth,” Agnes said gravely, “she survived, but is considerably weakened. I do not know if she could survive another, but time will tell. For now, she needs to rest. We have a wet nurse ready for now until she is strong enough again.”



Varian nodded and handed the child back to her so she could take him to be nursed. Other midwives were coming out of the room, baskets full of bloody and soiled blankets.





When Jaina regained consciousness, she felt like she had been in an airship crash. Even after battling the Burning Legion and the Lich King she had not felt so horrible. She also felt incredibly hungry and badly in need of a bath. She opened her eyes and saw that Varian was sitting next to her bed, a small mass of blankets in his arms. He smiled when he saw she was awake, something she had hardly known him to do.



“Jaina,” he said getting up to kiss her on the head. Menea was also there, and helped her to sit up as breakfast trays were being brought in.



“A boy,” Varian continued, showing her the small baby in his arms, “a strong healthy boy. I wish to name him Eldnol.”



Jaina stared at the small child in wonder and slowly took him into her arms. The child's eyes were closed, but his mouth was rooting, looking for something to latch on to. She felt instinct kick in and brought him to her breast, where he suckled. She felt like she was glowing, and found herself smiling.



“Yes,” she said, “I think that will be a good name.”







As the dawn broke over Goldshire, a young boy was fishing in the river when he saw two women walking down the road. One was older, somewhat crow like he thought, the other was younger, probably no older than his sister, who was 14, and quite lovely, with long golden hair flowing behind her. In her arms was a large basket, full of linens. He supposed they were washer women, but he didn't recognize them, and the ones from Stormwind wouldn't bother coming down here. They also didn't stop at the river, but continued south. As they passed, he thought her heard something, a muffled cry, like that of a cat, coming from the basket. He shrugged, decided he had imagined it and continued fishing.