c15

The two Vindicators guarding the entrance to the Exodar tensed when they spotted three non-draenei females approaching, but mostly relaxed when they noted the purplish skin on two of them and pinkish on the third.

Night elves and a human, their new allies. All was well.

"Greetings." They offered when the trio came into speaking range. "What brings you to the Exodar?"

A polite way of demanding what they wanted. Prophet Velen had assured them that the members of the Alliance could be trusted and of course they believed him, but there was no sense in being foolish.

"Hi!" The human – weren't humans supposed to be shorter? – chirped. "We wanted to see your fancy magic ship, and we brought muffins."

The pink-skinned female produced two miniature cakes from… somewhere and offered them with a welcoming smile.

The two guards shared bemused looks and accepted the gift. It was too blatant to be a poisoning attempt and bribes were generally not done with pastries. Shrugging at each other, they took a bite of so-called 'muffins'.

"This is a very good pastry." The more talkative of the two guards said with restrained enthusiasm. "Would you be willing to share the recipe with me later?"

He did some cooking in his spare time.

"I'd love to!" The human beamed. "Can we go inside now? I brought enough muffins for everyone."

"Everyone?" The other guard goggled.

"It's only polite to bring a welcome gift to new neighbours." She nodded firmly.

"The Draenei have joined the Alliance, but Prophet Velen left no instructions regarding visitors." The amateur chef guard pondered, looking at his compatriot. "We should ask the Triumvirate of the Hand if it is allowed."

With Prophet Velen departed to Theramore for the diplomatic summit, the Triumvirate was in charge of things in the Exodar.

The other guard agreed and jogged off to ask.

"Can I touch your face tentacles?" The human asked out of the blue ten seconds later.

"Luna!" Both night elf females groaned in exasperation. "You can't just ask to touch people's face tentacles!"

Indeed. The guard considered in bemusement. That was rather bold.

"Well I can't just reach out and touch them without asking." The now-named Luna protested. "That would be rude."

True…? The guard was even more bemused. He was getting the feeling that this Luna woman did not subscribe to conventional logic.

"How would you feel if someone asked to touch your breasts?" The night elf huntress asked pointedly.

"They are pretty nice, aren't they?" Luna giggled, hefting said breasts. "But only people I'm having sex with get to play with them."

"Just… don't ask to touch other people's body parts, alright?" The other night elf sighed gustily. "For all we know you just did the equivalent of asking to fondle his genitalia." She turned towards him with an apologetic look on her face. "Please tell me she didn't do that?"

"She did not." The guard confirmed. "But adult male draenei only allow our mates to touch them."

"See, what would Harry think of that?" The huntress asked archly.

"Oh, he'd probably spank me for it." Luna admitted, still much too cheerfully.

"I'm going to spank you for it." The swordswoman night elf muttered.

The guard pretended not to hear.

Salvation from this bizarre situation came in the form of his fellow guard returning, along with a stately female draenei in robes of gold and purple.

XXXXX

The female draenei had introduced herself as Irmae, priestess of the Light and diplomat. She was courteous and polite and more than willing to play tour guide.

Luna oohed and aahed at the pretty purple crystals and the beautiful architecture of the walls, but most of her attention was on Irmae herself.

Her hair was a light purple similar to the crystals around them. Her skin was an almost alabaster pale. Her eyes glowed blue. Those features, Luna found pretty, but what really drew her attention were the more distinct traits of her race.

The elegantly curving horns, the hoofed digitigrade legs, the swaying tail…

Luna had been with many, many women in her long life. The first two, Fleur and Nymphadora, had been because she just didn't see a meaningful separation between close friends and lovers. The thought of sex with another woman didn't repulse her and they were friends, ergo there was no reason why they couldn't have sex.

Since then there had been many more. Some had been friends, some had been pulled in because Harry needed people to anchor him to his humanity, some had even been just because she thought they'd have really cute babies.

For the first time ever, Luna was experiencing the emotion of lust in its raw form, with none of the warm fuzzy feelings normally attached to it. Irmae was not a friend that she was close to, or a woman that she wanted to pull into Harry's orbit for some other purpose. No, this was just pure attraction towards the physical features of another person. Not even a specific person, any draenei female would do.

She'd found the males attractive as well, but their horns were shorter and less elegant. Their forehead ridges cast their expression into a perpetual frown and their sheer bulk distracted from the really sexy parts even if she liked the face tentacles. The females also had them anyway, although they seemed to grow from the back of their heads instead of their jaws.

More importantly, Harry would never agree to let a male draenei join them. Unlike her, he was repulsed by the thought of sex with his own gender. Luna didn't really understand why that was, but she didn't need to.

Of course, there had been roleplay with Nymphadora long ago, but the metamorphmagus had really not been able to do justice to the draenei, or to any of Azeroth's non-human species and she was still Nymphadora under the changed features. The night elves were similar enough to humans and too much had been going on at their first meeting for Luna to really register her attraction towards them as an individual feeling, and then Jessir and Arko had joined in and the itch was scratched before it was even properly realized.

The succubi had many of the same features that she found so attractive in draenei, but the palpable malice wafting off them ruined it.

But here there were no distraction. Nobody that needed saving, nothing else that had to be focused on, no inner evil marring the outer beauty. There was only their guide and her unbearably sexy tail, swaying hypnotically back and forth and back and forth, the decorative gold rings gleaming in the purplish radiance of the surrounding crystals.

In her mind, Luna was already knitting a pair of cute little enchanted hoof socks that would prevent any painful collisions while sleeping together. Those hooves looked hard.

She knew that Harry had told Jaina that choosing new lovers based simply on race would be crass, which she had agreed with at the time, but…

The tail! The horns! The legs!

Luna needed those in her life. Okay, that was a lie. She wanted them in her life. Badly, very badly. Surely there was a draenei girl somewhere here that was sufficiently bisexual and willing to join an interracial adventuring party/harem? Their race was good with magic, right? Maybe there was an ambitious mage that would want to learn from Harry? It had been a while since he'd taken on a proper apprentice.

This lust thing is more compelling than I realized. The pieces of an ancient puzzle that had never quite fit together clicked into place inside her mind. No wonder Adrastia can do what she does so easily.

Wait, Adrastia! She'll know how to do this!

A nudge to her side brought Luna out of her thoughts and she looked into the frowning face of Arko.

"What are you up to?" The night elf asked lowly. The two of them had fallen a bit behind and Jessir was talking to Irmae a few steps ahead.

Luna saw no reason to lie or prevaricate. "I'm thinking of how to get us a sexy draenei lover."

Arko didn't look particularly surprised, but she did frown. "Why?"

Luna was confused. Wasn't it obvious? "Because I want one?"

But Arko's frown only deepened in response. "Aren't there enough of us in this relationship already?"

That didn't make any sense. 'Enough' would have been just her and Harry. "I don't understand the question."

"Look, Luna. You and Harry asked us to join your marriage, but if we're going to be equals, then Jessir and I would appreciate having a little more say in who else you bring in." Arko explained.

"But you can't have any say in it if I don't have a candidate yet." Luna pointed out reasonably.

"That's… true." Arko sounded as if she really didn't want to concede the point. Weird. "Just… please don't go seducing any more women without talking to us, alright?"

"Okay!" Luna agreed easily.

XXXXX

The chest was deposited on the floor with a solid 'thunk', the sound reminding Jaina of a bedroom door being shut and locked with a sense of finality.

But that was probably only because of who was depositing the chest and his openly stated intentions.

"There you go, four hundred halberds, four hundred swords, two hundred axes and a dozen suits of full plate for your captains." Harry proclaimed, spreading his arms and wiggling his fingers beckoningly. "Now give us a hug."

He had prepared for this, Jaina noticed. The only thing he wore on his upper body was a tight, thin shirt that left his arms exposed. There would be barely anything between her and his skin.

She had contemplated ways to get out of her part in this bargain, but honestly? It was stupidly generous on his part and she'd have felt like pond scum for trying it, even with his stated goals of seducing her. He probably knew that, the bastard.

"Alright." Jaina sighed. Just because she wasn't going to renege on their deal didn't mean that she had to be enthusiastic about it.

She stepped forward and tentatively wrapped her arms around his chest, trying to keep contact between them as light as possible.

Predictably, he wasn't having any of that and pressed her close as soon as he had his hands around her.

Jaina found her cheek pressed against his chest, his muscular arms going over her shoulders and big hands pressing against her back. He was incredibly warm, the heat radiating from his body seeping through her clothes and seeming to worm its way into her bones.

Harry started humming, deep and low. The sound resonated in his chest leeched the tension out of her. It also interrupted her mental countdown – the deal had been one minute and she'd had no intention of giving him a second more because he seemed like the type to take a mile if you gave him an inch.

The seconds ticked by slowly, definitely going over the sixty mark.

"It's been a minute." Jaina found the words much harder to say than she would have liked.

"Mhm." Harry rumbled, amusement clear in the sound. "I don't mind being overpaid."

"… Are you trying to manipulate me again?" She was enough of a politician to know that getting people to choose was much more impactful than making choices for them.

"Darling, I've been manipulating you since the hug started."

Jaina sighed and pulled away, staring at him flatly. "How?"

Because if she was going to put up with him, then it was best she know what exactly he was doing.

"Touch starvation is a condition that afflicts all social creatures if they go without positive physical contact with others of their kind for prolonged periods of time." Harry immediately launched into an explanation, using a lecturing tone that gave her flashbacks to her apprentice days. "Symptoms include low levels of anxiety, depression and a reduced ability to handle stress. Sufferers are also more prone to forming emotional connections to anyone who gives them the positive physical contact they crave."

Jaina considered her life and realized with a faint mental slump that she had barely even shaken hands with anyone since Arthas ended their relationship.

She briefly contemplated the idea that 'touch starvation' was just something Harry made up since she had never heard of it before, but quickly discarded the notion. He wasn't the type to manipulate people with lies. He was much worse, he manipulated people with the truth.

And Luna had been hugging her at every opportunity, to the point that Jaina didn't even bother to try evading her anymore. She'd thought that was just so that she'd never have to see the priestess' wounded pout ever again, but had it actually been a subtle conditioning?

No, that was unlikely. Unlike Harry, Luna didn't have a manipulative bone in her body. Not deliberately at any rate. She might, however, have seen this 'touch starvation' problem Jaina apparently had and decided that the best way to deal with it was to pull her into their relationship. It amounted to the same thing in the end.

"You know I'm never going to join in your debauchery, right?" Jaina asked rhetorically, not really expecting her words to have any impact.

"If you're worried about your reputation we can keep it quiet." Harry assured. "A portal in your bedroom here at Theramore that connects to my tower and nobody would know. Not until I got you pregnant at least."

Jaina was about to protest that it wasn't about her reputation – which would have been just a little bit of a lie – but the mention of impregnating her quickly derailed that thought. "What?!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at her archly. "Didn't I already mention wanting to make babies with you? And you'll need an heir eventually, won't you?"

Well yes, he had said something to that effect before, but there had been a lot going on at the time. And she had been intending to simply name a successor or appoint a council. The idea of a flesh and blood heir had been… carefully avoided.

Jaina took a deep breath, internally scolding herself for letting him get under her skin again. He was just so unlike any other problem she'd ever had to deal with that she was having a difficult time adjusting, especially when he kept throwing verbal bombs like that one her way.

"We should get ready, the others will be arriving soon." She said calmly, completely changing the subject.

"And by 'ready', you mean that I should go hide in the room you gave me?" Harry quirked an eyebrow.

"And get dressed more formally." Jaina pointedly didn't answer the question directly. "I want this to go well, so please don't be difficult."

Having Harry next to her while she greeted guests would send all sorts of untrue messages, especially if he kept on calling her pet names. Doing it during informal meetings was one thing, but during perhaps the most important diplomatic event since the invasion of the Burning Legion five years ago was quite another.

"I know how this song and dance goes." He said casually. "Don't worry about it, I'll play my part."

"Thank you." Jaina sighed in relief. No matter how aggravating he was, he had always been honest with her, even when the truth was unpalatable.

XXXXX

Sylvanas arrived in Theramore via teleportation with two Dark Rangers in tow as an entourage. Normally, she wouldn't even be attending any diplomatic functions due to how her presence would rile up Varian Wrynn.

Not that Thrall didn't rile him up as well, but that was unavoidable.

This time, however, Jaina Proudmoore had managed to arrange for all the faction leaders to be present and Sylvanas knew exactly how the young archmage had pulled that off. News had spread of the cure for undeath, a cure that wasn't destruction, and everyone wanted to either know more about it or discuss the implications.

No doubt Wrynn would be making demands about Lordaeron. His outrage with the undead occupying it was well known.

Sylvanas had to be careful to keep her feelings in check, so as to not make any decisions simply to spite him. Ever since her brief discussion with Harry on the side-effects of necromantic magic, she was very careful about trusting any kind of anger or hatred she felt.

Except the one aimed at the Lich King. That she knew was her own.

That self-control was sorely tested when she ran into her younger sister, Vereesa.

Sylvanas had known that Dalaran and the Kirin Tor would also be sending a representative. She had known that Rhonin Redhair, the current leader of the Council of Six, was the most likely candidate to be chosen for the role. She had known that her sister was married to the human archmage.

She just hadn't considered that she might be part of his entourage. Hadn't considered that Vereesa might want to see her again, especially after hearing of a possible cure for undeath.

Hadn't wanted to think about her remaining family at all.

"Sister?" Vereesa asked softly after her husband made his excuses and left them alone. "Is that you?"

Sylvanas clenched her fists and tried to untangle her emotions, tried to figure out which ones were her own and which were a result of the necromantic magic.

The first was rage that Vereesa didn't immediately recognize her. Of course, she wasn't using her original body, so it was only to be expect, but it still made her furious.

The love they'd shared was only a fading memory. The emotion itself would not come. There was a desire to have her back, but it was twined together with bitterness, anger and jealousy.

She wanted something with her sister, but looking at her right now, vibrant and alive, was making her angry as well. It took conscious, exhausting effort to ignore it.

"Vereesa." She finally said, her sister's minute flinch at the necromantic rasp in her voice sending a renewed rush of anger to her unbeating heart.

A stray thought of killing Vereesa and raising her into undeath passed through her mind. Then they could be together again, and she would be away from the human she had married.

It was an appealing thought, but Sylvanas pushed it down, on guard against any urges to spread the taint of undeath. She was unable to feel any horror at the thought of doing that to her sister, when she knew that she should. In place of that, she stoked her hate towards the Lich King, knowing that it was ultimately his fault.

The Windrunner sisters were silent for a long, awkward moment, neither sure what to say.

"Is it true?" Vereesa finally spoke up, hesitantly. "Is there a cure for undeath?"

"There is." Sylvanas confirmed, nodding slowly. "I have seen it demonstrated. We are only waiting for the archmage to make enough, and for the time to be right to administer it."

"I am glad." A great weight seemed to fall from the living elf's shoulders and she stepped forward to throw her arms around her undead sister. "It will be good to have you back, Sylvanas."

The Banshee Queen stiffened in the embrace and forced herself to return it. She was not enjoying it at all. In fact, it was all she could do to not push her sister away, but she endured the mounting discomfort with nothing but spiteful defiance in her heart. She was not going to be the monster that Arthas Menethil had turned her into.

XXXXX

Harry knew exactly how much of a pain it was to organize these kinds of things, so he had to give Jaina props for how well she was doing. She had somehow managed to get everyone situated in the keep without running into each other to minimize potential trouble.

She had even made judicious use of portals to make sure they all arrived at the table more or less simultaneously. That way, nobody would feel ambushed or slighted.

"Welcome, everyone, to Theramore and thank you for coming." Jaina began once they were all gathered. "It is my hope that we can stand together against the threats facing Azeroth. I suggest we begin by laying down our weapons while we talk, as s symbolic gesture of our intent for this diplomatic summit."

She demonstrated what she meant by placing her staff on the table, its tip pointed towards the center. It was a large, round table, so the overall effect would be that everyone's weapons would in the end be 'pointed towards a single purpose'.

Harry was the first to step forward and place Atiesh next to Jaina's staff. As he passed by her, he leaned over to whisper a quick message. "Clever girl."

And it really was clever. Understated and subtle, but not so subtle that anyone but the densest could miss the message.

"The Kirin Tor has ever stood to protect Azeroth." Archmage Rhonin Redhair proclaimed and placed down his own staff. His wife did the same silently.

Harry was surprised by the rather charismatic delivery. So far, his impression of the Kirin Tor had mostly been that of a bunch of snooty wizards altogether too impressed with themselves, but Rhonin was actually quite the opposite and had an air of good humor about him. He was even wearing armor like a sensible person! This was someone that he might actually be able to get along with.

The ice figuratively broken, all of Jaina's other guests followed the given example. Swords, hammers, polearms, bows and rather amusingly in the case of Gelbin Mekkatorque, the gnomish High Tinker, a wrench. Some made short declarations of their own and others did so in silence, but they all did it.

"Good." Jaina's tone held a good deal of relief to the discerning ear. "Now please be seated and let us begin."

"Archmage Harry, how goes progress on your project to restore the Forsaken to life?" Varian asked immediately.

The warrior-king said all the right words, but his impatience shone brightly. It was plainly obvious that he wanted to get right to the part that interested him most of all and then probably bulldoze through the rest.

Well, that was fair enough. If it wasn't for that particular project and its wider implications, most of the people sitting at the table wouldn't be here at all. Restoring the Forsaken to life was going to thoroughly wreck the status quo.

"Completed." Harry said, relishing the way both Windrunner sisters, Jaina and a few others suddenly snapped to attention. "We can start administering the Restoration Serum as soon as the logistics of feeding and housing that many people are in place."

"Stormwind will be happy to take in refugees from Lordaeron." Varian declared.

"Quel'Thalas will be overjoyed to welcome its people back." Lor'themar Theron, the regent lord of Quel'Thalas, said, favoring Sylvanas with a smile. "And the leadership of its ranger general."

Heh, of course they would. The Scourge had butchered 90% of the high elf population in their quest to use the Sunwell to raise Kel'thuzad. Getting some of their people back could very well be the difference between survival and extinction.

Sylvanas gave her former subordinate a terse nod.

That had been a bit of a kicker. Harry had been thinking of luring Sylvanas into the Battle Harem, depending on what her personality would turn out to be once she was restored, but it turned out that she would be next in line to take over rule of Quel'Thalas once that happened.

You might have thought that the elves would resent her for failing to protect them, but it apparently wasn't the case. From what he'd heard, the odds had been severely stacked against her, on top of the Scourge co-opting a traitor to help them.

Ah well, if the Forsaken dispersed then he'd still count it as a win even if he couldn't get Sylvanas into his bed, but he hadn't given up hope on that yet.

It wasn't bothering her right now, in fact she probably didn't even think about it, but once she was alive again the fact that she was using another woman's body as a vessel for her soul would hit her like a ton of bricks.

And he was the only one that could fix that particular problem.

"Malfurion wished to heal the lands afflicted by the taint of undeath when we passed through them years ago." Tyrande spoke up. "There are many other druids among my people that will wish to do the same."

"And mine." Cairne Bloodhoof, chieftain of the tauren, added ponderously.

"Before we move too far from the topic, I would like to ask if you are willing to talk to me about this Restoration Serum of yours, Archmage Harry." Rhonin interjected. "The Kirin Tor expended some effort to studying the plague of undeath when it first manifested, but our research never amounted to anything that could reverse it. I would be most interested in hearing how you managed it."

Interestingly enough, he was actually honest about it. That made two for two people on the Council of Six that he'd met who weren't politicians oilier than extra virgin olive oil. Amazing, this was the most magical thing he'd encountered on Azeroth so far.

"It takes a significant amount of skill in both alchemy and necromancy." Harry revealed blithely. Four of the other people at this table already knew and he was established enough that they could no longer kill him with impunity.

"…you are saying that you are a necromancer?" Rhonin blinked.

"I'm a lot of things."

And that kicked off the shouting. It would have just been a bunch of people talking over each other, but the more restrained ones had to raise their voices to be heard over Varian and Lor'Themar Theron. At least they managed to restrain the impulse to go for their weapons, though it was a near thing. It helped that the seating arrangement was such that the people most likely to come into conflict with each other were seated on opposing sides of the table.

Harry himself was sandwiched between Thrall and Jaina, while Varian had been strategically placed on the exact opposite side. The blood elf regent lord was a bit closer, being part of the Horde, but he still had several people, including the immensely bulky Cairne, in his way.

Harry leaned back in his chair and grinned at the chaos, knowing that there was no point in doing anything else until the hotheads got it out of their system.

"You could have been a little less blunt." Jaina muttered to him sotto voce.

"Nah, that would have just made it worse." He disagreed. "Best not look like I'm trying to hide anything."

Rhonin cut off the chaos by casting a silencing spell.

That's my trick! Harry was vastly amused to see someone else who realized the usefulness of silencing spells in diplomatic meetings.

"Archmage Jaina, Lady Tyrande, Warchief Thrall, Lady Sylvanas." The red-haired archmage listed shrewdly. "You do not look surprised by this information."

"It was revealed to me soon after Harry's arrival on Azeroth." Tyrande said.

Technically, it was only heavily implied, but whatever.

"And you let him live?!" Varian demanded smolderingly. Looks like the silencing spell was a short one.

"His wife is highly favored by Elune. I have faith in the wisdom of my goddess."

Yeah, that was pretty much the job description of a high priestess.

"It is possible to be a necromancer without being evil, just not very likely." Jaina added with a small grimace. "I had concerns as well, but Harry has proved to my satisfaction that his interest in necromancy is more academic than practical. As Lady Tyrande said, his wife is a powerful priestess of Elune and routinely purges any necromantic or fel corruption before it can accumulate."

He could have done it himself but it would be a lot less convenient. It made using those kinds magics uncomfortable and he would never be as powerful a necromancer or warlock as one who allowed the corruption to settle in, but he also wouldn't be a twisted mockery of himself.

"Lady Sylvanas and I were told about it when he first proposed a full restoration of the Forsaken." Thrall said. "I admit to being uncomfortable with such magics, but Jaina knows more about arcane matters than I ever will, so I place my trust in her judgment."

Sylvanas merely stared inscrutably, declining to say anything. That was just as well, considering she was a necromancer herself. Oh, she might dress it up as some kind of dark archery, but her powers were still necromantic in origin.

The rest of the table didn't look exactly convinced, but they weren't hostile either, so Varian and Lor'Themar had to buckle down.

"Use of such dark powers taints the soul." Prophet Velen spoke up, staring at Harry.

The leader of the draenei was by far the oldest person present, which he felt the need to rub in with his tremendous white beard. Dumbledore would weep in envy if he saw it.

"Yes, I know." Harry favored the ancient draenei with a sardonic smirk. "After nearly killing myself experimenting with dangerous magic as a child and only surviving due to sheer dumb luck, I now make sure to take appropriate precautions."

Velen pursed his lips, obviously still not quite satisfied, but he let it go.

"I can't be sayin' that it won't be nice to have an expert on our side when we up against the Scourge." Vol'jin of the Darkspear Trolls shrugged, obviously less bothered than most.

Naturally. He was a voodoo witch doctor after all.

"Stormwind cannot commit to any war with the Undead Scourge with the Dark Portal once again active on our backyard." Varian said bluntly, apparently deciding to move past the necromancy issue for now.

"Aye, I am also not keen to send me armies to make war on the Lich King until that threat is put down." Magni Bronzebeard backed up his long-time ally.

Made sense, as their kingdoms were the closest to it.

"One of the main purposes of this summit was the negotiation of a non-aggression pact between the Horde and the Alliance so that we can stand together against the Burning Legion once again." Jaina spoke up.

"I would gladly agree to such a pact." Thrall immediately offered. "The demons are a threat to us all."

A stream of agreements followed, everyone easily conceding that making war on each other while demons were invading Azeroth would be stupid.

"Before we move on from here, I have a collaboration proposal for the Kirin Tor, Archmage Rhonin." Harry spoke up, pointedly not calling it a request. Making request meant that someone was doing you a favor and that meant putting yourself into debt.

"By all means." The other man invited.

"A short while ago I and the rest of the Battle Harem-" He was interrupted by a series of confused, surprised and in Jaina's case, annoyed, noises.

"Excuse me, the what?" The table at which they were sitting could only dream of matching the flatness of Tyrande's voice.

"Battle Harem." Harry pretended not to notice the looks he was getting. "That's what we're calling ourselves. We voted on the name."

"Arko'narin and Jessir Moonbow agreed to call your group the… Battle Harem?" Somehow, Tyrande's voice managed to get even flatter.

Harry was most impressed.

"Well, no." He admitted. "But Luna, Colette and I did. A voting system is really just a tyranny of the majority when you think about it."

"I see." The Flat and the Furious: The Flatness Continued, that was Tyrande's tone right now. "Proceed."

"Gladly." He nodded regally. "As I was saying, we delved into Karazhan and found that an eredar warlock by the name of Malchezaar was trying to establish a permanent stable gate directly to the Twisting Nether."

"That is deeply concerning." Rhonin commented, prompting noises of agreement from the rest of the table. "I presume that you are asking for the Kirin Tor's help in closing the rift?"

"The rift itself is a consequence of the twisting nexus of magical energies that Karazhan is built upon, and Medivh's meddling with it." Harry explained, once again avoiding any implication that he needed help. "It's the reason that Deadwind Pass is… well, dead. The rift can't be closed until the nexus is untangled and life is returned to the region, but untangling the nexus will result in a powerful release of raw magical energy that could very easily do irreparable damage to the dimensional veil in the area."

"I see, so you need a cadre of magic users to reinforce the veil while you untangle the nexus. Once the initial surge passes, the veil will begin healing on its own." Rhonin nodded in understanding. "That certainly sounds like something that should be done as soon as possible. I will send out a call for volunteers as soon as we return to Dalaran."

No attempts to leverage the Kirin Tor's help to get something out of it? This guy was a terrible politician, but that made sense. Harry had talked to Jaina about the leader of the Kirin Tor and knew that the man had been given the post out of desperation. With the previous leader, her own master Antonidas, killed by the Scourge and Dalaran wrecked by Archimonde himself, the Kirin Tor had needed someone to get them out of the hole they were in. Someone with a heroic bent and a sense of responsibility towards the common good.

Not a politician or a tired old fogey, in other words.

"Excellent, I look forward to working with you." Harry nodded, mildly surprised to find out that he was telling the truth. When was the last time that he had collaborated with anyone and actually felt that he could rely on them to do their part properly, not counting Luna?

It had been a while.

"On to the matter of Outland and the Dark Portal, then." Magni Bronzebeard said firmly. "I am willing to commit me armies to the task, as long as the Horde and Alliance operate under the same truce we used for the qiraji."

"That is agreeable." Thrall nodded. "Overlord Saurfang tells me that there may still be orcs on Draenor, orcs who were left untainted by demonic corruption. I would like to make contact with them."

"It would also do you some good to see the so-called 'Path of Glory', as Warchief Blackhand named the road made of the trampled bones of my people leading up to the Dark Portal." Velen's voice was pointedly very calm, but his hand had a death grip on the edge of the table. "As a reminder of the Horde's origins."

Thrall had pretty good self-control – the way he flinched in response to that was quite subtle for someone of his noble disposition.

"And what of the fel orcs that have been sighted fighting alongside the demons?" Varian added sarcastically. "I should hope that you are not thinking of opening talks with them as well?"

"No, of course not." Thrall said. "They will die."

The King of Stormwind didn't know it, but he had actually done Thrall a favor by trying to twist the knife. Orcish culture saw apologies as useless and weak so he could not give one, nor could he simply ignore the monstrous crimes of his people. If Varian hadn't said anything, the best he would be able to do was shift blame onto the Burning Legion and that would have been a weak dodge since most orcs had drunk demon blood willingly.

Harry had a feeling that the shamanistic Warchief would be aiming the most warlike of his people at their old compatriots in an effort to prove that the Horde was a different beast these days.

"And what is to be our stance on Illidan Stormrage?" Lor'Themar Theron interjected. "Prince Kael'Thas went with him, searching for a means of saving our people from our addiction to magic, but I fear the lengths to which his desperation may have driven him."

How diplomatic. By now, everyone knew the series of events that led the draenei to Azeroth in the first place, and it involved Kael'Thas storming the draenei stronghold of Tempest Keep. Lor'Themar was trying to shift blame onto Illidan's 'bad influence'.

All eyes turned towards Tyrande, the closest thing to an expert on the matter of Illidan Stormrage they had.

"I would like to believe that Illidan remains an enemy of the Burning Legion, but he was often all too eager to reach for the power they offered, even to the point of absorbing enough fel energies to transform into a demon himself." She said stonily. "He has betrayed both the kaldorei and the Legion in pursuit of his own goals. He cannot be trusted."

"Why not just ask him?" Harry asked, drawing many baffled looks.

"What do you mean?" Tyrande questioned, brows furrowed deeply.

"He was in love with you since before the War of the Ancients, wasn't he?" Harry pointed out. "Then he spent ten thousand years in prison with nothing else to think about. I would be very surprised if 'I'm doing it for Tyrande' isn't his justification for just about everything at this point. Write him a letter with a friendly – or at least non-hostile – tone , rub it on your body just for good measure, and I'll bet you whatever you want that he'll drop everything to talk to you. Just be careful not to say anything that would even imply that you're interested in him or he'll probably have a violent mental breakdown when you reject him."

The entire table stared at him speechlessly.

"What?" Harry asked defensively. "You don't have to rub the letter on your body, but it would be a lot more effective."

"Lady Tyrande said herself that he is a demon now." Varian said slowly, as if speaking to a dim child.

"That will just make it worse." Harry retorted irritably at the human king's attitude. "I've made a study of demons since coming to Azeroth and the most notable thing about them is that they are impulsive. The weaker ones are basically mindless! Illidan Stormrage has enough discipline to maintain sapience as a demon, but all his base urges will be magnified, including his obsession. I wouldn't trust him to be an ally any more than you, but we can use him. Even if he is currently allied with the Legion, I doubt it would take much to get him to betray them again. Why should we fight both of them when we can make them fight each other with a few words from Lady Tyrande?"

"You think a demon is still capable of love?" Velen asked dubiously.

"Why not?" He asked back rhetorically. "It's not like love is somehow special and innately pure. It can be as twisted and dark as any other emotion. I've had succubi declare that they loved me after I spent ten minutes molesting them and they betrayed the Legion for me in an instant. Sargeras' control over the demon hordes is far from absolute and the very nature of fel means that each of them is ultimately only loyal to themselves. Give them something that looms larger in their minds than fear or awe of him and they'll turn. Illidan already has that."

With everyone distracted by all the magic, nobody on Azeroth had yet thought to develop the field of psychology. The mindset of demons was incredibly simple and easy to figure out.

"That seems… plausible." Tyrande said thoughtfully. "I cannot say I am comfortable using Illidan's feelings to manipulate him, but if it spares us the need to make war against him for control over Outland…"

The discussion then moved down to the nitty gritty of the situation and Harry subtly sighed. He knew how these things went – now that the big overarching issues had been discussed, they were going to have to go over the boring logistical details. Details that would have very little need for his input.

His thoughts strayed towards the girls and he wondered what they were up to.

XXXXX

Adrastia knew herself to be a coward at heart, and a lazy one at that. Not particularly wise either. She'd had centuries to finagle the secrets of immortality out of Harry, time enough even for someone of her non-existent talent for alchemy to succeed, especially because he probably wouldn't try very hard to stop her. She had served loyally and Harry would have released her if she asked.

But she hadn't even tried, content to stay bound in comfortable chains. Why should she have tried, when being the property of the most powerful man alive provided both safety and luxury? And he was at exactly the perfect spot on the morality scale to be neither a bore nor a cruel monster. Sure, she occasionally had to do things that she would prefer not to, but life as a free woman would have had those things as well.

Adrastia had been lamenting her lack of foresight ever since she had been dragged to Azeroth.

This world was terrifying to her. It was full of things she didn't understand, and even the things she was supposed to understand were a little bit different.

"Hey, Adrastia, I need your help to find a draenei girl I can seduce!" Luna announced as she teleported in, along with the two night elves she and Harry had gotten involved in.

Case in point.

"Why are you asking her for advice?" The one with the bow – Jessir? – asked with a small frown.

"Because she's the expert on this kind of thing." Luna nodded sagely. "She'll take one look and have it figured out."

If they were dealing with regular humans, that would probably be close to the truth. For a species she had never met, it was another matter entirely. Even the local humans weren't the same as she was used to.

"Luna, I have never seen or spoken to a draenei." Adrastia rubbed at her forehead in exasperation. "I have no idea what they find attractive or how they think."

Aside from the fact that the losses they had suffered recently would have most likely made them close ranks against outsiders, sexually speaking, as well as significantly lowering the incidents of homosexuality. Massive loss of life always tended to provoke that kind of reaction, unless they had resigned themselves to extinction.

At least, that's how it worked for humans. It annoyed her that she couldn't predict how a different race would react.

"Then let's go talk to them now!" Luna enthused. "I'll teleport us back and you can help me find one that finds me attractive. Then we can see if she'd be a good fit with us."

Oh? What was this? Not window shopping for Harry or trying to get a friend into bed with her, but lusting over some unspecified draenei female?

Adrastia considered the appearance of the draenei and nearly rolled her eyes in realization. Of course. It would figure that Luna would be sexually attracted to a non-humanoid physiology. Her fondness of magical creatures – the stranger the better – had hinted at it pretty hard. The draenei were the perfect combination of beautiful by human standard and inhuman to tickle her fancy.

"If you three are hunting for prey, then you need to be dressed properly." She cut through Luna's enthusiasm. "Come with me, I have plenty of clothes that can be adjusted on the fly to fit you and you can tell me what you're looking for in further detail while we do that."

"Why are you including us in this?" The night elf with the sword – Arko? – asked defensively.

"You want to have a say in this, don't you?" Adrastia raised an eyebrow archly. It had taken a little bit to identify their body language as 'jealous' but their tells were fairly obvious. "That means you need to be part of it."

At least it was a distraction from the task Harry had set her on. She wasn't sure how long it would take him to notice that she was sandbagging.

Not because she wanted to sabotage him or anything, but because dealing with warlocks and cultists was dangerous and she'd only grown more protective of her own skin over the years.

XXXXX

Luna was excited! They were going back to the Exodar, this time prepared to seduce a sexy draenei girl. Adrastia had warned them that it may not be possible, but Luna was optimistic.

And she was wearing a cute white dress with an airy skirt that swished around her bare legs. Adrastia said it was supposed to emphasize her natural innocent cuteness, while the super curvy body Harry made ensured that it would still be sexy.

She hadn't had anything that really fit Jessir and Arko, but that's what transfiguration was for. It wouldn't pass muster for long term wear, but it would be good enough for a few hours.

Luna had thought that they'd all wear dresses, but Adrastia had vetoed that idea. Apparently, they wanted to present a certain image so as to attract the right kind of attention, so the two night elves were made to wear brown leather pants and vests. Apparently, brown leather said 'outdoorsy type' while black leather said 'sexual fetish', but the similarity would still get people thinking naughty thoughts, especially if the cut of the clothes was designed to provoke exactly that.

Luna was paying attention to these things now like she'd never paid attention before. This knowledge, combined with her expertise in horn and hoof care, would be the key to getting what she wanted.

Girl time beauty sessions would be so much better with a draenei girl as part of the group. Just the thought of how she could wax and polish the horns, or trim and clean the hooves, or make the tail squirm about in pleasure had her giddy enough to wiggle in place from sheer anticipation.

"Get a hold of yourself." Adrastia hissed at her, reaching out to pinch her thigh.

"Owie." Luna pouted, rubbing at the spot. It didn't really hurt much, but still!

"You want to come off as cute and energetic, like you normally are, not as a barely controlled horndog." The smaller woman continued lecturing. "You never had to learn how to keep your lusts in check before, so you'd better learn quick if you want this to work. If you don't think you can manage it, then say so and we'll work on that for a few days."

"No!" Luna took a deep breath and slapped her cheeks. "I can do this. Let's get us a sexy goat girl."

"But only if we all agree that she'd be a good fit with us." Arko interjected sternly. "This relationship is weird enough without adding someone that will just make everything awkward and uncomfortable."

The first and currently only moonlight paladin hadn't taken a whole lot of convincing to get on board with the idea of adding a draenei girl to the group. Luna thought that Arko should just admit that she found them attractive, too.

Even Elune was radiating a sense of exasperated amusement at her antics!

"I can't wait to see Harry's face when he comes home if we succeed at this." Jessir chuckled. "Especially if the draenei we find only likes other women."

If she did, then that was something they could work on! After all, Colette only liked men, but it wasn't hard to bring her into the fun.

"If that happens then he'll be a little disappointed, but won't say anything." Adrastia snorted. "He knows full well that your relationship is skewed in his favor and you all having a female lover on the side won't set off his territorial instincts the way a male would."

"You talk about him like he's a Stranglethorn ape." Jessir snorted back.

"Well, humans did evolve from monkeys back on our world." Luna nodded sagely.

"Wait, what?!" Arko blurted out. "What kind of sense does that make."

"I don't want to hear that from you." Adrastia retorted, suddenly peevish. "You were literally magicked into existence because a vain goddess thought that trolls were too ugly to worship her. Don't even get me started on how the rest of this world's ridiculously huge number of sapient species came about. Do you have any idea how hard it is to figure out what makes you tick when your origins boil down to 'a wizard did it'?"

Luna felt Elune recoil in offense at the insinuation and saw Arko and Jessir do the same, but she was more sympathetic. Maybe telling Adrastia the night elf origin story had been a bad idea…

"This has been bothering you for a while hasn't it?" She asked consolingly.

"Yes!" Adrastia huffed and visibly brought herself back under control. "My apologies for that outburst, it was unbecoming of me. I don't deal well with change and Azeroth is a steep departure from what I consider to be common sense."

Luna knew that Adrastia wasn't sorry at all and only said it to keep up appearances, but let it go. Harry had yanked her along on this trip as a punishment for letting her guard down and getting two of his grandsons killed, so the fact that she was being inconvenienced would probably please him.

XXXXX

Adrastia kept her gait purposefully casual as the four of them walked away from the Seat of the Naaru, using all her mastery of Occlumency to hide her discomfort. That creature creeped her out.

Whether one went by the more stereotypical idea that beings of Light were benevolent or by Harry's more realistic interpretation that they were self-righteous and narrow-minded, she rather doubted they would approve of her.

Fortunately, the Naaru didn't seem capable of discerning the nature of her soul at a distance, because no guards were set upon her.

"Okay, what should we do?" Luna asked, looking down at her eagerly.

"Show me around." Adrastia instructed. "I need to get a feel for these people if I'm going to do what you want me to."

She considered herself a masterful cold reader, but that would be offset by the fact that these weren't humans. Even an hour or two of observation would give her a lot more to work with.

Luna agreed and they took an ambling path through the Exodar. With the moonbrained priestess leading the charge, breaking the ice and starting conversations was easy and Adrastia slowly got a feel for the draenei.

What she saw was both good and bad. There was no racial disdain or xenophobia aimed at them, despite these effectively immortal beings having plenty of reason for both. In fact, they were downright welcoming. Subtle probing revealed that this was almost entirely due to their leader, Prophet Velen, assuring them that the members of the Alliance were noble and honorable sorts, and would be trustworthy allies. The fact that the Alliance was essentially in a state of cold war with the Horde, which contained two races that had grievously wronged them in the recent past also helped quite a bit.

On the bad side, there were barely a thousand draenei left, and they were a tightly knit community bound together by shared suffering and grief. It would be almost impossible to find an isolated female that didn't feel like she belonged, to say nothing of how having such a tiny population pool diminished the odds of finding one who was either a lesbian or bisexual.

Even if they did find such a one, they wouldn't be able to simply seduce her. Again thanks to the small population size, the relative importance of each individual draenei was too high for it. It was like operating in a small village where everyone knew each other – everything was a scandal.

It would have to look natural and unplanned. And it would have to benefit the draenei as a whole somehow.

Truly, Luna had ticked just about every potential problem on the list with this one. Adrastia would still take it any day over cozying up to crazy doomsday cultists and warlocks who might get the idea of using her as a live sacrifice.

"Alright, I've seen enough." She said quietly as they moved through the silent hallway. Fortunately, the draenei were trusting enough to let them wander on their own instead of assigning a guide like they had done before, although the guards paid an inordinate amount of attention to their every move.

That they didn't have an escort breathing down their necks was downright bewildering. Aside from a brief visit by Tyrande Whisperwind when they first arrived, they must be some of the first visitors the draenei had since their arrival. Their prophet's words carried a ludicrous amount of weight.

"What have you seen?" Jessir asked, puzzled. "All we did was talk to a few people."

"I have seen that any whirlwind romances or impulsive bed-hopping is unlikely to happen." Adrastia said back drily. "These draenei are a reserved and disciplined people. Notice how guarded they are even through their politeness?"

"Now that you mention it, they do seem a little tense." Arko nodded thoughtfully.

"From what I understand, they have been running from the Burning Legion for around thirteen thousand years, with the events on Draenor effectively being proof of what happens when they let their guard down and allow themselves to think that they have escaped for good. Many of them would have been born into such a situation and it has conditioned them to expect the worst, even if they don't realize it. Only their absolute faith in their prophet's guidance allows them to extend any trust at all."

"That's so sad." Luna said unhappily, which the night elves agreed with.

"Which means that they will close off if they get even a whiff of any sort of ulterior motive." Adrastia continued explaining. "Your best bet would be – and I cannot believe I am saying this – to simply make friends with them and hope for the best."

Luna blinked owlishly at that. "Are you feeling alright, Adrastia? You're usually a lot better at this."

"We aren't dealing with humans here!" Adrastia retorted waspishly. "Their body language isn't the same and most of them are thousands of years old, which makes reading them even harder. "

"Well, I'll never say no to more friends, but can you at least narrow it down a bit?" Luna requested. "We can't be BFFs with all of them."

"BFFs?" Arko and Jessir echoed in confusion.

"Best Friends Forever." Luna explained.

"Not an adventurer, and probably not any kind of combatant for that matter." Adrastia was mostly just guessing here, but the uncertainty she was feeling didn't show in her voice. "Those would have been fighting side by side with their fellow draenei for thousands of years, and bonds forged in battle tend to be the strongest. You won't be able to pull one of them away anytime soon."

Especially since Adrastia had a feeling that the gender ratio for combatants was heavily skewed towards the males. So far, she had spotted only one female Vindicator. It wasn't hard evidence by itself and could simply mean that the females preferred less physical combat, but the civilian population was still a better hunting ground regardless.

"Then we should look at the alchemists, blacksmiths and magical researchers." Luna nodded enthusiastically. "To the Trader's Tier!"

XXXXX

With the draenei's low population, the amount of people working a certain trade was very low, practically one person per profession.

Both Luna and Adrastia had been interested in the clothier's each for their own reasons, but both the one who worked with actual cloth and the one who worked with leather turned out to be men, so that put an end to any more personal interest.

Adrastia did manage to commission some work to be done, though.

The alchemist, likewise, was a male, although he expressed some interest in Harry's work. Apparently rumors of a cure for undeath had reached even the relatively newly arrived draenei.

Magical researchers typically didn't advertise themselves, so that was left as a backup plan. Asking to be taken to the people dabbling in experimental magic was a good way to get seized by the guards.

Adrastia had just about lost hope of being able to help Luna indulge in her baser impulses when they walked into the part of the Exodar that had been repurposed into a blacksmith's forge.

The blacksmith in question was a rather vivid purple color. Jessir's skin was so pale that it was only technically purple and Arko's was only a few shades darker. This draenei girl was practically glowing in comparison… although part of that was probably due to all the purplish crystals in her shop.

Her hair looked like it couldn't quite decide whether it wanted to be black or grey and ended up looking almost metallic in the right kind of light. It was gathered into a practical bun and sat neatly in between her backwards waving horns.

Her glowing blue eyes lit up with curiosity as she saw who had entered her shop.

"Visitors?" She asked rhetorically. "What brings a couple of night elves and… humans? I'm sorry, are you humans?"

"I have a bit of troll in me these days, but Adrastia is still fully human." Luna offered.

Yes, that was a state of events that she would see about correcting as soon as possible. Honestly, Harry figured out how to create bodies with high speed regeneration and he didn't think to make one for her? So inconsiderate.

"Huh, I thought humans were all pink." The draenei blacksmith reached up to absently twirl one of her head tentacles around her finger, which draped around her neck and hung down into her cleavage.

Cleavage which was quite prominently visible in her midriff-baring leather top and shorts. They were clearly work clothes, but in the same way that a tank top and panties might be called casual wear.

That was a good sign. Many draenei that she had seen out and about seemed to prefer ornate full body robes and she had begun to worry that they were prudish sorts. Sexually rigid and conservative cultures were fun to play with and cause scandals, not so good for relationships if you were an outsider.

"Most are, but some are darker." Adrastia generously explained.

While not as ridiculously adaptable as the trolls, humans still adapted to their environment at ludicrous speeds by Earth standards. Fast enough that dark skin wasn't unheard of despite humanity on Azeroth descending from the cold clime dwelling vrykul.

That was probably fortunate, because being the only human with dark skin on the planet would have stuck out far too much. The color-shifting ability built into her body was better for making herself look more exotic rather than less.

"That's pretty interesting." The draenei said noncommittally. "Anyway, my name's Miall and I'm the blacksmith here on the Exodar?"

"I'm Luna and these are Adrastia, Jessir and Arko." Luna introduced enthusiastically.

"Greetings, and a belated welcome to Azeroth." Jessir said with a smile.

"Always nice to have another long-lived race." Arko added with a nod.

"Thank you." Miall smiled back. "So, what can I do for you? Looking for a weapon or armor?"

"We are more interested in your methods." Adrastia spoke up quickly. "My lord is a wizard smith of great skill and is always looking to expand his knowledge. As far as I know, he has only ever worked with metal, so your work with these crystals would be very interesting to him. He would gladly share his own knowledge in return, of course."

"I have an example of his work if you would like to see it?" Arko offered, reaching up to touch the hilt of her sword poking over her shoulder.

"If you don't mind." Miall nodded, the light of interest in her eyes.

"Be careful." Arko cautioned as she handed over the greatsword. "It has Elune's blessing woven into the metal, so I'm not sure if she'll let you lift it."

"Your goddess, yes?" Miall asked rhetorically, carefully placing her hands on the hilt at first and then with some more confidence when nothing went wrong. "She sounds similar to the Naaru."

"She's not, though." Luna chirped. "We checked."

"Indeed?" The draenei blacksmith seemed to like rhetorical questions. "I must say that this is exceptional work." She said as she tested the sword's balance. "It feels like a lump of pig iron in my hands, but it radiates with potential."

"Harry said that he didn't want to make a weapon that would be stronger than me." Arko explained. "The Holy Moonlight Greatsword is supposed to grow alongside me and my bond to Elune."

"A beautiful technique." Miall praised and returned the sword to the night elf. "I would certainly be interested in learning from a smith capable of such craft."

"That's great!" Luna squeed happily, stepping forward and snatching one of the draenei's hands in her enthusiasm. "Harry isn't at home right now, but you can still come with us to wait for him if you want. You could meet the last member of our group and the moonlight dragons!"

Adrastia put her full focus on scrutinizing the blacksmith's body language at this intrusion into her personal space. Being non-human would throw things off a little, but some things were fairly universal.

Surprised at the forwardness. Bemused. A little uncomfortable with the contact, but not offended or indignant. Discomfort too weak to be revulsion. More like awkwardness, lack of familiarity. Not used to being touched. Tail twitched… no idea what that means. No reaction from head tentacles… again, no idea what that means, if anything.

She momentarily lamented that there hadn't been enough time to decode the movements of the draenei extra features before returning to the task at hand.

Hesitation in reply, but no instinctive retreat, strong eye contact. Thought process disrupted. Picked up on Luna's sexual attraction, but is unsure if she is right about it. Eyes flitting over to non-existent tentacles. Looking for confirmation? Not embarrassed. Too old and self-assured to be embarrassed. Interest either not returned or well hidden.

Adrastia allowed herself a little smirk. This could be worked with.

"This Harry, he is your mate?" Miall directed the question towards Arko, while gently extricating her hand from a pouting Luna.

"Err, yeah." The paladin awkwardly tugged on the tip of her ear.

"All of ours, actually." Jessir admitted to it with a slightly embarrassed grin. "It's a bit of a long story."

"We'd be happy to tell it to you." Luna beamed.

"I see." Miall was even more bemused by this new information, no doubt trying to reconcile it with her suspicions about Luna's attraction to her. Fortunately for the moonbrained priestess and her intentions, she didn't look particularly put off by it. "I think I would prefer to meet him here, if it is all the same to you."

Cautious. Probably as much a conditioned response due to being hunted by the Legion as it was wariness over Luna's intentions.

"That's fine, too." Luna agreed easily. "Harry's been dying to get a look at this ship of yours ever since it landed, but he just hasn't had the time. You could help us show him around!"

Well, at least she knew how to grab onto any opportunity that presented itself.

XXXXX

Jaina allowed herself a gusty sigh, seeing as there was nobody nearby. Just getting all the leaders of the Horde and Alliance to sit at the same table without killing each other was a huge success. Aside from some expected tensions, everything had gone perfectly. They had agreed on a general plan under the assumption of there being no hostilities between the two factions.

It was too bad that they started getting diminishing returns after that. The arguments had become frustratingly circular, centered around the mistrust between Horde and Alliance. They all agreed that the Burning Legion and Undead Scourge were a common enemy in the broad sense, but the details of working together against them were more difficult.

Jaina was genuinely worried that they wouldn't put their differences aside until they had demons or undead attacking everyone, the same as had happened with the qiraji.

But at least some people are making new friends. She thought to herself sardonically as she entered one of Theramore's taverns.

A tavern where Harry, Rhonin and Magni Bronzebeard were sitting at a table, apparently having a drinking contest mixed with a professional discussion. From what she'd heard, Harry and Magni had gotten into a debate on blacksmithing techniques and Rhonin had somehow gotten into it a little later.

Not too surprising, as the leader of the Kirin Tor made friends easily and had all kinds of interests. She'd just thought that Harry would be too aggravating to make friends.

"… magic goes with everything." She heard him pontificating as she approached. "Fighting? Can be done better with magic. Cooking? The things you can do to food with magic! Playing pranks on annoying little shits? Make them cry with magic. Fucking? Ohoho, the stories I could tell you about fucking with magic. There's absolutely no way for a normal blacksmith, no matter how skilled, to match the works of a blacksmith who knows how to weave magic into his work. Even if you add an enchantment to it later or use innately magical materials, spellforging is the superior method."

"Those are fightin' words." The dwarven king snorted, slamming his tankard on the table. His cheeks were flushed, indicating that there had already been quite a bit of drinking going on. "Do ye have the stones to back them up?"

"Are you challenging me to a blacksmithing contest, Your Royal Dwarfness?" Harry asked archly. He, too, looked a bit flushed.

"Aye, you beardless son of a goat." Magni said with what could only be called an amused glare. "I'll not let some human claim to be a better smith than a dwarf without seeing it for meself."

"Fine. Rhonin can be the judge." Harry nodded to the red-haired man.

"Is this the famous dwarven tradition of making agreements or oaths over a tankard of ale?" Rhonin asked grinning.

"The best way to swear an oath is over a tankard of ale." Magni nodded seriously. "Are we agreed, then?"

"You're on." Harry nodded back.

"I could hardly pass up a chance to see a master at work, much less two." Rhonin also agreed.

"Then we drink!" Magni roared in approval and the three of them slammed their tankards together before draining them.

Jaina rolled her eyes at their antics and approached the table.

"Well, well, look who decided to stop eavesdropping and sit with us instead." Harry teased.

"You boys looked like you were in the middle of something important and I didn't want to interrupt." She retorted drily.

"That was considerate of you, lass." Magni said seriously.

"Was there something you needed to talk to us about?" Rhonin asked.

"Sort of." Jaina sighed. "As you might have noticed, the negotiations have stalled."

"I thought they were actually going quite well." Harry mused. "We came to an agreement on the important parts and are only getting stuck on the details. All things considered, this is one of the smoother diplomatic events I've been to."

"He's right." Magni nodded. "Ye should see what the clan meetings in Ironforge are like. Stubborn fools will spend a month shouting at each other and agree on nothing in the end."

"The Council of Six has a different problem." Rhonin sighed. "Instead of talking to each other, everyone just does their own thing without informing anyone else. Most of my job boils down to checking up on them to make sure they don't do something stupid."

"What, really?" Jaina frowned.

"Isn't that exactly what you're doing?" Harry pointed out. "How much time have you actually spent in Dalaran since being appointed to the Council?"

"I have a lot of work to do here in Theramore…" She defended weakly, realizing that she had indeed barely interacted with the Kirin Tor in the past few years.

"And that's fine." Rhonin assured. "You are actually the least problematic member of the Council, which is why I have you recommended as my replacement if something happens to me."

That was… unexpected. Jaina knew that she was the most powerful mage in the organization after him - possibly even more powerful than him since they had never dueled – but she knew that she was also the youngest member of the council by a considerable margin.

"Thank you for your trust." It was really the only thing she could say. "Anyway, even if you say that things are going well, I still wanted to ask if you had any ideas for pushing past the current stalemate."

All of her past diplomatic negotiations had generally happened during times of crisis and people were a lot less willing to argue when the enemy was breathing down their neck.

"Good luck with that." Magni chuckled. "Varian Wrynn is as stubborn as a dwarf."

And it was Varian who was the problem right now. The King of Stormwind quite blatantly didn't trust the Horde and was firmly opposed to working with them as equals. He would not allow a Horde commander to give orders to his troops, nor allow Horde soldiers anywhere near Alliance military forts. In fact, if he had his way then the Horde would effectively be reduced to either auxiliaries or possibly even disposable troops. He justified this by listing out the Horde's many, many crimes and insisting that they could not be trusted to act without supervision.

Thrall obviously couldn't accept this even if he wanted to – which he didn't – but his reasonable counter-suggestions were usually dismissed.

"He doesn't want the Horde – or more specifically the orcs – growing any stronger or getting credibility in the eyes of the world." Harry noted. "I can't say I blame him. I've met cultures that revere violence as holy in the past and they're always trouble."

"They're trying to move away from that." Jaina argued. "They need to be given a chance to do it."

"Thrall is trying to move them away from that, but I don't think he has nearly as much support for it as he'd like." Harry countered. It was a disagreement they'd had in the past. "You know it's funny, those two would fit better if their positions were swapped."

"How so?" Rhonin asked, intrigued.

"Varian is exactly the kind of musclehead that the orcs would love to have as a Warchief. Fierce, uncompromising and quick to action, if he'd been born an orc he would be a hero to the Horde. Meanwhile, Thrall is well-meaning, thoughtful, a stickler for honor and determined to do the best for his people while also demanding the best from them."

"Which is what Stormwind needs right now." Jaina sighed and chuckled wrily. "Westfall is in shambles and the rest of the kingdom isn't doing great either. Thrall would be more focused on putting his own house in order than on obstructing the Horde if he was the king of Stormwind."

"Maybe we could suggest they swap places for a while." Rhonin snorted with amusement at his own idea.

"That would be something!" Magni chortled. "Varian would have fun cracking orc skulls until they listened to him, at least."

"Hmm." Harry hummed thoughtfully. "That might actually not be a bad idea…"

"No, no! This is a terrible idea!" Jaina hurried to disagree. The sheer number of things that could go wrong boggled the mind, and that was before factoring in the reactions of the orcish clan leaders and the House of Nobles.

"I don't mean swapping faction leaders." Harry waved off. "You're right that the risks there are too big, but on a smaller scale? Varian clearly isn't ready to budge on cooperation during battle, but maybe he would go for a training exercise where the sergeants swap units. There's nothing quite like shared hatred for a drill sergeant to promote camaraderie."

"Heh, I have never been in the army, but I could see it working." Rhonin chuckled. "Of course, getting anyone to go along with even this much will be the real trick."

"Aye." Magni rumbled. "I can see the use of it, but I'd rather not trust any of my men or commanders to the honor of the Horde."

"How about a mixed regiment of Horde and Alliance soldiers all training together, with one faction providing a commander and the other his second?" Jaina suggested. "The war against Archimonde and against the qiraji proved that we can achieve much when we work together."

"Even His Royal Dwarfness isn't enthused about it and he's both part of this conversation and partially drunk." Harry noted sardonically, nodding at the frowning Magni. "In my experience it's better not to force people to interact with those different from them any more than necessary. Having Horde troops willing to take orders from an Alliance commander and vice versa in a pinch would be useful, but mixed armies are only likely to work against imminent world-ending threats."

"It's hard to trust the orcs after what they've done." Magni shrugged.

Jaina resisted the urge to huff in frustration. Sometimes it felt like the Alliance was willfully ignoring the fact that the orcs they'd fought in the past were different than the orcs now. Mannoroth's blood curse was gone.

"I suppose." She said unenthusiastically and got up. "I guess there's nothing for it other than to keep trying, then. I'll leave you boys to your drinking."

"I'll go with you." Harry also stood. "Rhonin, Magni. It's been fun, but Jaina's belly is sexier than your beer guts."

"As if my wife would let me develop a beer gut."

"Pah, you humans don't know anything!"

The jeers from the leader of the Kirin Tor and the dwarven king followed behind Harry as he jogged forward to catch up to her. Jaina sped up her stride to get away from him, annoyed by his flirting.

Well, annoyed by the limited success of the diplomatic event she had organized, but his flirting was a convenient excuse to be mad.

"You know, scowling really doesn't suit you." Harry commented. "Your face is too cute for it."

When they'd first met, that might have rattled her composure. Now it barely registered.

"Is this really the time, Harry?" She asked pointedly. "Or can you not control yourself at all?"

Harry's face gained a sort of wistful amusement to it. "You know, I'm having so much fun chasing you that I think I'll be just a little bit disappointed when I finally catch you."

Jaina was about to assert that he didn't have to worry about that since he was never going to 'catch' her, but the words stuck in her throat when he suddenly went tense.

She barely had time to recognize the tensions as battle readiness when the distinctly green-skinned figure of an orc female lunged out of the shadows of the alley they had just passed, two long, viciously curved daggers in her hands.

Whatever small warning Harry had wasn't enough and before he could respond to the threat, one of the knives was dragged over his throat. Jaina heard the scrape of metal on metal and knew that if it wasn't for the elementium skeleton he had forged for himself that the knife might very well have cut clean through his neck.

Blood sprayed into her face from the gaping wound, blinding her.

The entire sequence of events had taken less than a second and she hadn't been ready. She was an experienced combatant, but the shock and horror of it delayed her reaction long enough for the assassin to spin around Harry and plunge the other knife into her stomach before she could truly react.

The Frost Nova she had instinctively started casting fizzled into nothing more than a cold gust of air that barely made the assassin flinch and Jaina saw the other knife – somehow clean when it should be bloody – flashing forward slice through her own neck.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the wicked edge of the curved dagger approached. Already badly wounded and collapsing, Jaina knew with absolute certainty that she wouldn't get another spell off in time to save herself. She was going to die.

Time snapped back to normal as a sudden explosion of force from the side sent both of them hurtling towards a nearby building, but Jaina felt another spell negate her momentum and leave her suspended in the air, while the assassin slammed into it at full speed.

Not that she was able to appreciate this, being in terrible pain from the stab to the gut, which had now been turned into a massive ragged hole from having the knife ripped out so roughly. She hadn't been injured often in the past, so her pain tolerance was nothing to brag about.

Jaina managed to see what was happening from her floating position. Harry was still on his feet despite blood gushing from his throat like a fountain. He raised his hand towards the dazed assassin and apparently took a page out of her own spellbook, freezing her into an ice block.

With the fight over, he grimaced and turned to towards her. Jaina could visibly see his wound closing, until the blood flow slowed and then stopped.

Harry spat another glob of blood on the street and smiled with blood-strained teeth. "Gotta love troll regeneration."

Jaina would have liked to have some troll regeneration of her own right about now. The wound she'd taken would be fatal in short order if she didn't get any healing soon.

Harry knelt over her and pulled out a bottle from… somewhere. It had a gentle silver-blue luminescence contained inside. He unstoppered it and poured it on her wound, which immediately closed as if hit by a high powered healing spell.

"Healing spell in a bottle, never leave home without it." Harry answered the question in her eyes.

Jaina nodded silently – ignoring this latest absurdity he could make with his alchemy for now – and picked herself up, taking a deep breath to center herself after that unexpected near death experience. She also ignored the potential life debt she owed him and instead focused on the assassin.

Now that she had time to take a good look, she saw that the features weren't right for an orc female. The face was softer, the tusks smaller, the green skin a shade too pale, the eyes a solid purple.

"I think that's Garona Halforcen." She said, bewildered at the notorious half-orc showing up again out of the blue after years of silence.

"And not here of her own will." Harry frowned. "I can sense a spell of enslavement on her, linked to those daggers. There's a nasty poison on them as well."

Now that he mentioned it, Jaina was feeling a bit weak and there was still a burning sensation radiating from where she'd been stabbed. She'd thought that was just the blood loss and a phantom pain, but maybe not.

"This is going to be trouble." She said. "If Varian hears about this he's going to want to execute her."

Garona had killed King Llane, Varian's father, shortly before Stormwind was razed by the orcs at the end of the First War. In fact, Arthas has once told her that she had done so right in front of his eyes, cutting the previous king's heart out of his chest while Varian watched. He was not likely to be reasonable about it, to say the least. And, unfortunately, he would hear something about this, because the streets had not been empty when Garona had attacked. 'female orc assassin' was probably going to be enough to get him frothing even without learning that it was Garona herself.

"The spell is old, and I doubt a half-orc would have had a fun time growing up in the Old Horde." He replied, laying his hand on the ice block. "Now that she's free, I think she'll be an ally."

The ice block around Garona vanished before Jaina could protest and the half-orc stumbled, looking briefly bewildered before tossing her daggers to the ground like they were contagious.

"You freed me." She said in wonder.

"I did." Harry nodded. "You mind if I take those daggers? I'll probably need them to make an antidote for the poison."

"Please do, and destroy them afterwards if you can." Garona's tightly controlled voice had a pleading note to it. "I thank you for my freedom and your mercy, and promise to repay you in the future."

"What will you do now?" Jaina asked, both curious and wary. Even if Harry said she hadn't been acting of her own will, this was still the deadliest assassin on Azeroth in front of them, and she would have successfully killed them both if not for Harry's self-made body.

"Cho'Gall was the one who sent me to kill you and as many leaders of the Horde and Alliance as I could." Garona scowled. "He is the only one left alive who knows the workings of the spell Gul'dan placed on me. I tried to kill him, but failed and fell under his control. I won't fail again."

"The leader of the Twilight's Hammer?" Jaina murmured, mostly to herself.

The two-headed ogre mage was notorious for both his power and insanity. He had also been presumed dead since before the conclusion of the Second War. That he had been alive all this time was extremely concerning, and would explain the why the Twilight's Hammer was still so active, and why identifying its leader had proven so difficult. They had been looking in all the wrong places.

"Come to my tower with me." Harry invited. "You can rest up and I'll make you new weapons and armor before we go kill this Cho'Gall."

"That is… generous of you, but I must do this alone." Garona's voice held some undefinable quality to it.

Harry paused, and then abruptly refroze the half-orc into another ice block.

"What are you doing?" Jaina demanded, bewildered.

"'If you let her go off alone, she's going to die', that's what Chromie said." Harry explained, picking up the daggers. "I thought she might have been talking about you or one of my girls, but now I think that maybe she meant our green friend over here."

That… was distinctly possible. And Garona was entirely too valuable as an information source, if nothing else, to be allowed to die on a quest for vengeance. Damn it.

"You're right." She capitulated with a sigh.

"You know what else I'm right about? You getting stabbed in the gut because you refuse to wear armor."

XXXXX

OMAKE – Critical Success.

Varian Wrynn was happy. Today would be his last day as acting Warchief of the Horde.

He still had no idea how Jaina Proudmoore, Bolvar Fordragon, Rhonin Redhair, Magni Bronzebeard, that annoying archmage Harry and even his own son had successfully managed to conspire with Vol'Jin, Cairne Bloodhoof, Eitrigg and Varok Saurfang to convince enough people that having him and Thrall switch places for three months would be a good idea.

There had almost certainly been a great deal of extra strong Ironforge spirits involved.

Varian had feared what kind of mess the orc shaman would make of his kingdom and had been sorely tempted to sabotage the Horde in pre-emptive retaliation, but the advisors, who by agreement he had to listen to, prevented it from happening. He could only hope that Thrall was in the same boat.

Still, even if he couldn't deliberately sabotage the Horde, he could still make favorable deals for the Alliance.

Seeing that the Horde needed a supply of lumber now that their access to Ashenvale had been cut off, he negotiated a deal with Thrall in his capacity as Regent Lord of Stormwind for a trade. However, instead of trying to make a deal that would favor the Horde, he deliberately overpaid for the wood.

Unfortunately, Thrall got him back for it by negotiation for the metals that the orcs mined from Durotar and deliberately overpaid for those, so it kind of evened out.

It hadn't been all bad, though. Varian had deliberately made several very unpopular decrees as the Warchief, which provoked the clan leaders to challenge his rule.

He had fought no less than twenty-three Mak'gora duels in the past three months, all of them to the death. Then he'd sent their clans to fight whichever non-Alliance threat he could find.

To his chagrin, that had actually made him more popular with the orcs. Damned greenskins made no sense.

At least it was finally over now. Varian could only breathe a sigh of relief as he saw Bolvar approaching him, no doubt to tell him that it was time to go. Vol'Jin had already left for Stormwind to do the same for Thrall.

A few minutes later, Varian Wrynn's outraged roar was heard through all of Orgrimmar.

XXXXX

"What do you mean 'they don't want me back'?!" Thrall roared in bewilderment.

"Not yet." Vol'Jin shrugged sheepishly. "It be like dis', mon – da Horde be respectin' you for what you done for 'em, but the human king be more their style."

Thrall could only stare at his old friend, willing the world to make sense again.

"So… what? They want to keep Varian Wrynn on as Warchief for another three months?" The question was asked in a plaintive tone that hid the deep hurt he felt at the seeming rejection by his people. He had dedicated so much of his life to leading them… "What am I supposed to do, then?"

"About dat…" Vol'Jin scratched at his chin. "I been talking to Bolvar and he say that the people of Stormwind be askin' you to stay on a bit longer as well."

"What?" Thrall was starting to suspect that he'd taken a crippling knock to the head at some point.

"The House of Nobles be hatin' you, but the regular people be likin' your way of doin' things." Vol'Jin explained.

That didn't make any sense. Thrall hadn't done that much, had he? Since he'd known that Varian would take any excuse to start a war, he had been very careful to only take actions that would be indisputably beneficial to Stormwind without harming the Horde.

He had pulled back troops, cleared out some bandits, settled matters with the Defias, put Westfall into order… those kinds of things. Nothing special, really. With how rich Stormwind's lands were, ruling the kingdom was pretty easy and Bolvar was a fine advisor.

Alright, so he had taken to hefting the Doomhammer whenever he had to talk to the House of Nobles, because getting them to shut up and listen was impossible otherwise. They were a lot easier to cow than the clan leaders in Orgrimmar, so he hadn't even had to threaten to brain any of them!

"Well, I suppose we can at least say that this experiment was successful."