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randomfoggytiger · 3 months

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Fics That Deserve More Comments (Part IV)

Back on the fic list grind with a part four~!

**Note: Will ghost edit later.**

Loose chronological order below~

@hipsbef0rehands/Millenial_Falcon’s(WBM/WBM)

What do you think Mulder and Scully's best days were, respectively, as children?

He took her onto the navy ship which he he worked, showing her everything from the command room to the engine room. He took her to the tiny bunk beds where the crew slept, the head, and the kitchen. Young Dana looked at the living arrangements in horror. When he took her to the forward dock of the ship and she could see the vast ocean before her. It was then that she understood her fathers love for the sea and adopted the same passion. It was this day that her love and respect for her father grew immensely, and sometimes where she needs to take a break from life and retreat to her happy place, it is on the dock of that ship.

Mulder and Scully come to separate but important realizations as starry-eyed children.

4. Mulder shopping for Scully

It had been easy in the past, with women like Diana and Phoebe, he found the most dazzling expensive piece of jewelry and they were happy. The gifts were nice but he never really put much thought into them. That wasn't Scully.

Post IVF-- Mulder wants to pick the perfect gift for Scully's birthday after the IVF and before the impending millennium.

BED SHARING

Scully continued on with he night-time ritual of putting on her pajamas, fluffing up her pillows, and turning down her sheets, when Mulder emerged from the bathroom. He plopped unceremoniously onto the bed disrupting the sheets that she had just perfected.

Pre-Dating-- Mulder and Scully take their own personal liberties.

20. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

Heaving herself out of the sunken cushion of the battered chair, she pushed it closer to Mulder’s bedside. Once settled back into the Scully-shaped indent she had managed to create over the last three days, she hesitantly reached out and took Mulder’s hand in hers. Despite his improving condition, fear wound around her heart, squeezing out all hope and replacing it with the heavy weight of despair. He could very easily be ripped from her life once again.

Deadalive Scully waits (and begs) for Mulder to wake up.

A Nice Hike in the Woods (Ao3)

“Mulder, are we out here looking for aliens?”

“No” he chuckled. He held his arms out. They were surrounded by pine trees in various shapes and sizes. “Well…” he said. “Pick one”.

Scully raised her eyebrows looking up and down, questioning him with her eyes.

“No, Scully, a tree…. pick one”

Pre-IWTB Mulder tries to make their unremarkable house a home.

You're told to write/direct/produce a msr scene of your own doing for one of the revival episodes.......go.

Taking her left hand he raised it to the level of their eyes. Gently, he began to play with the silver band that no longer adorned her neck but once again, her ring finger.

“I gave this to you almost 4 years ago. I never made good on my promise.”

Revival Mulder and Scully are back on the road and back together, giddy and happy and ready for the next step.

Babylon Headcanon

“She is a doctor, Scully.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard. Well, Mulder, I’ve been a doctor for a lot longer and let me tell you, if you ever do anything like that again, I will have you committed.”

“Scully… you know I will, eventually” he said with a smile.

Babylon Mulder cannot, of course, escape a Scully scolding.

You're the only one I trust (archive.org)

A free-floating assortment of The X-Files fics that are fun to scroll down and read.

mad_martha's (annex-files, x-sites)

Pilot Flipped (Ao3)

In contrast to the corridor outside, the office was brightly lit and austerely neat, its untidiest feature being a pinboard near the door that was covered in newspaper cuttings and photographs. Even those were arranged in a semblance of order. There was a desk which, apart from a stack of ageing files, a set of document trays and a slide projector, seemed to be empty of even normal office equipment; and a set of shelves around the walls filled with orderly rows of books and box files. Mulder couldn't remember the last time he'd seen any office in the Bureau looking so tidy, and he included the Director's inner sanctum in that assessment.

AU-- Pilot Mulder is assigned to Scully.

9 Minutes

The label inside the blouse collar bore the name of one of Scully's favourite outfitters and as she examined it, noting that the size was also her own, she made a disturbing discovery. Just inside the neck of the blouse lay a small tangled gold chain and cross.

Scully's fingers flew to her own neck, where an identical cross, given to her by her mother on her fifteenth birthday, lay against her skin. What the –

Her thoughts were suddenly jerked away by a distant scrabbling sound, barely audible above the noise of the machines around her....

Scully jumped to her feet. That voice had been familiar. "Mulder!" she shouted, hearing her voice echo horribly.

No reply, but there was a series of thumps and grunts, brought up finally by a loud thud.

AU-- Pilot Scully flashes to the FTF hallway in the 9 minutes she and Mulder lose on the road.

Conversations

There was a pause as she tried to hang onto her anger and hurt, but Scully's innate sense of what was fair wouldn't allow this statement to pass unchallenged. "I don't know about that, Mulder," she observed ruefully. "I can think of a couple of occasions when I haven't been particularly fair to you. More than a couple, if I'm honest."

"I won't argue you with you, but nothing you've done, or imagine you've done, can possibly match how unfair I've been to you over the past five years."

"I don't want to play "my blame's bigger than your blame" either."

Mulder gave a rough chuckle. "Okay."

Pre-Dating-- Mulder and Scully get nudged and scolded by her family (twice) and Skinner (once) before they finally confront their S6 hurts and confess their love... in a cave-in.

@two-microscopes/twomicroscopes's

Sicktember 2022 Day 12: Psychogenic (Ao3)

He swallowed. “Scully, even if that’s what I’ve done to you–”

“Don’t make this about yourself.”

“Take care of yourself.”

S1 Scully's health keeps breaking down in her overexuberance to keep up; and Mulder, worried, tries to look out for her.

Sicktember 2022 Day 1 (Ao3)

“Chicken soup, I said–I said I’d bring you some,” he spluttered.

He was so desolate, it tugged at her heart.

“Buffalo chicken pizza soup, to be specific, I guess.”

Scully is sick and snappy about Mulder's mother henning, but relents.

Sicktember 2022 - Chapter 4

“Do you just want to get into pajamas now?”

“Mulder,” she sighed, slumping onto one bed, “you know they took our luggage.”

Ah, yes, when the vengeful cultists also smashed their rental car’s windows and slit its tires. They were nothing if not thorough. You had to grant them that.

Scully is running a temperature, and Mulder gets her to a motel as fast as he can with slashed tires and missing luggage.

Sicktember 2022 Day 5 (Ao3)

He leaned closer and drew a deep, argumentative breath against his congestion, instead sneezing dramatically.

“Great, now I have your germs all over me.”

Scully insists on taking Mulder home after he keeps sneezing in the office.

Sicktember 2022 Day 20 (Ao3)

They’d last seen each other at that briefing–was that three days ago already? By then even Mulder had admitted this case might not be an X-file.

No, a serial killer was ravaging across DC and their already non-existent work-life balance.

Buried in their office, Mulder swam in a sea of tissues, too.

Scully skips an autopsy to care for her sick, insomniac partner.

Sicktember 2022 Day 3: Painkillers (Ao3)

In the dim light, he could make out Scully’s eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. She rolled her head towards him as he leaned down to touch her matted hair. This was worse than he’d been expecting.

Cancer arc-- Mulder rushes to help Scully, reasoning past her refusal to take painkiller meds.

Sicktember 2022 Day 9: Home Remedy (Ao3)

“Scully? Scully!” Mulder called through their adjoining motel rooms’ door.

Faster than a conspirator to a smoke shop, she rushed out of bed and burst into his room.

Post Redux II Mulder's nose bleeds; and Scully rushes in to assess the injury and calm their panic.

Sicktember 2022 Day 10: Excessive Use of Tissues (Ao3)

Here Scully was, curled up with her Capote novella. Only Jeopardy playing in the background split her attention. Oh, and her sickly partner sniffing on her couch.

“Mulder, for the last time, blow your nose.”

“But, Scully,” he whined from her couch, “I just did.”

Dating-- Mulder is sniffly during a cozy night in.

@hamster-on-fire/fade_into_the_dusk_with_me's For The Sake Of Driving (Ao3)

‘I just. I need to drive, Scully.’

It’s trivial & bizarre & it really is too late....

‘Yeah- um, yeah, alright.’ She nods along to herself, as if he can see her. As if it matters.

Car rides shared between Mulder and Scully through the years.

@sunlightscully's

Travel

There are moments where he makes a fool of himself in airports. He catches glimpses of dark braids, swinging for just a moment before disappearing into the throng of people, and finds that his hands are shaking. She is forever escaping him, forever just a few steps ahead, and his chest tightens with the absolute conviction that it was her, that those braids belonged to her and now he has lost her again in the crowd.

It happens for the first time around Scully. She reaches for her gun and then his hand. He is incredibly grateful, suddenly; he hadn’t realized he’d been afraid that she wouldn’t.

Early seasons Mulder and Scully bond in airports, learning to appreciate each other.

City in the Clouds

He tells her he wants to settle down in the country, grow old where he can see the stars. He tells her she could be a mother, and she thinks for the first time of settling down with him. Fleetingly, she sees herself in the window of a little white farmhouse, wearing an apron. Cooking oatmeal.

She couldn’t stand it.

Scully realizes, years later, that she did want to live Home Mulder's domestic dream.

Kitchen

On the tabletop, her index finger splashes into a small pool of blood. “Come on,” she says, and Mulder leans obediently forward. The cut isn’t bad, or deep – head wounds always look worse than they actually are – but she dabs at it anyway, cleaning the blood away, applying disinfectant. He hisses, tries to move away, but she has one hand pressed to the top of his head, holding him steady.

Scully cleans up Mulder's latest injuries; and the two make a laughing but important blood brother pact.

Food

“There’s cheese on your mouth,” she says, and he tries to see it in the reflexion of the window but the car weaves and she grabs his arm instinctively.

“Mulder! Watch the road, I’ll do it.”

She wipes the corner of his mouth crudely with the scratchy brown napkin.

Mulder realizes he loves Scully while they eat food in the car, scratchy napkins and celestial comparisons serving as evidence for his belief.

Beautitudes

“I can’t accept it,” he says, and she wants to say, “You have to, it’s happening,” and, “There’s nothing anyone can do about it,” but he wouldn’t believe that either.

He makes everything harder.

Somehow, though, she is thankful. He’s fighting for her, and no one fights harder than Mulder.

Scully and Mulder support each other through their shared and separate tragedies.

My_Love_Forever's

The Strength of Their Beliefs

Sometimes he talks. Don't leave. I need you to stay. Keep fighting. I'll make them pay for this. I don't know who did this. I can't let them let you go and I can't make you stay.

One Breath Mulder desperately clutches Scully's necklace while Scully feels his gaze, even in her coma.

The Realization of Weakness

Hidden in the back of his mind, the thought of not finding the thought of the Scully he lost. He has noticed that things faze her that she never blinked at before. Now she turns away and says she needs a moment when she is faced with the horrors of the world where previously she would have been fired up with rage at the perpetuator and would be shooting down his theories with facts. That is one of the things he missed most when she was taken for that long time; he would say "I think you have a vampire problem here" and pause, expecting her to take a deep breath and start listing all the reasons why that can't be after her exasperated "Mulder."

Irresistible Mulder wants to help support or heal Scully, hoping that, somehow, he is.

Waiting, in Reverse Order

For once, in a change of pace, she waits at his bedside. They have changed places, one sleeps on the bed and the other keeps a vigil in the uncomfortable chair at the bedside. Last time she was the one in the bed and he was waiting but now they have changed. She saved his life and waits at his bedside, hoping that her last memory of him is not the one where he ditches her to keep her safe.

End Game Scully waits in the hospital instead of Mulder, for once.

Viridian5's

Blowing Smoke

"Things are tough all over," I replied in my best hard-boiled voice.

He smiled darkly. "A change is gonna come..."

"Yeah?"

"You may not see me again. I think I'll be getting a promotion soon. I only had to stab a few backs to capture it."

S2 thug observes Krycek on a break.

Haunted

//As the roar and keening whistle grew louder, I stood up and walked into the trough between the rails. With an increasing feeling of clarity and peace, I turned to face my ride. When I threw the empty bottle against the rails, I couldn't help smiling at the sharp, crashing sound it made as it shattered. It sounded final. The approaching train looked liked a darker, moving cutout in the night. Except for the flashing lights.

//The lights.

//I couldn't move. Terror and a bone-deep feeling of loss gripped me along with paralysis as the flickering lights froze me in place. I couldn't see through the glare, and I heard someone screaming, and I could swear it was a girl, and she was screaming words, but I couldn't make them out, even as I sensed that she yelled the same word over and over again, and I was helpless and couldn't move again...

//NOT LIKE THIS! FIGHT! MOVE!

Mulder is transported to the memories of his childhood suicidal ideations while investigating a ghost and train tracks casefile.

Dead to the World

He looked so pale and still lying there. He had something odd, something that had left bruises and abrasions, wrapped tightly around his neck. Two more lines of that something enveloped his wrists. When she felt his neck to search for a pulse her fingers brushed it and quickly shied away. It was warm, moist, and alive. The other end of each of the lines trailed off into the darkness.

But he still lived. She took a scalpel from her coat pocket and prepared to cut him loose.

Mulder's eyes slowly opened, as if consciousness didn't come easily. She watched so many emotions flicker through them before he settled on blankness.

S5 Mulder willingly lets a monster parading as Samantha kill him; and Scully watches, horrified at his suicidal tendencies.

Circle - Chapter 1

It’d be interesting to see what Alex’s Consortium would be like. Maybe no better. Maybe his would even be worse.

But he was the one paying me.

AU-- Cashier rises through the Consortium ranks with the help of Krycek... only to face him again, years later, in a darker context.

Unprotected

"You have a neck brace on. You could have been killed. It was a stupid thing to do."

Mulder couldn't tell if he felt rage or despair. It teetered from one side to the next from second to second. He told myself that she was just upset that he'd ditched her and injured himself again, but--

He remembered why he never confessed anything to her or anyone if he could avoid it.

An injured Mulder feels alone after a careless comment from Scully.

7-Eleven Nightmares at 3 a.m.

Mulder was surprised his whole head didn't get devoured in his last yawn, which felt like it had split his face. //If I were a cartoon character...//

An insomniac Mulder is bored out of his mind... then starts to question his sanity after spotting a cup of very black, very oily diner coffee.

Starbuck_Lover's Under The Milky Way - Chapter 1

“You insisted I come with you in the middle of the night, you won’t tell me where we’re going, and you’re being incredibly vague,” she gestured wildly, “Excuse me for noticing a pattern.”

“You’ll love it,” he beamed at her, “I promise.”

Mulder wakes Scully up, taking her to a field to watch the stars.

Deb Longley's

Whistlewood - Chapter 1

I take a little longer than I should to turn back around, but the room behind me has transformed: it is lit softly, by candles fixed on each side of the fireplace, casting amber halos on the walls, and the fireplace now has a fire, which has burned down to nothing but softly smoldering ashes....

I swing back in his direction. He hasn't budged. Unexpectedly, he moves past me into the room, startling me into a yelp which he doesn't seem to hear.

An unconscious Mulder witnesses the vision of a dead man sledgehammer his family.

The Fear Place

I wonder what other people see when they look at him; the man is beautiful with his wild, windblown dark hair, and eyes, and tall, lean frame. A few of them are audacious enough to look him up and down, but they usually stop when they get to his eyes. He's thirty-eight, but he has the eyes of an old soul. He sees deep, and through, observing things that others overlook. He looks at smiles and perceives the lies hiding behind them. He sees the truth.

Mulder's messed-up knee and mother-son dynamic drives him to call Scully on Thanksgiving for reinforcements. Tena finally relents, if only a little.

story_monger's Predictable

He’s predictable, and he knows that.

Want to see the Mulder guy do some flips? Stick him in front of a missing child’s report; make it a little girl with dark hair. Watch him run.

He feels sick....

They should know that there’s a girl missing, and she has dark hair, and she’s supposed to turn ten in a week.

Mulder loathes his own reactions to cases similar to Samantha's; and Scully helps him to calm and get some sleep.

enigmaticblue's

True Hearts

He’s told Scully that the truth will set them both free, but he feels like a hypocrite for saying it. Mulder believes in the truth, he trusts in its power, and yet he’s hiding the truth from his partner.

Mulder has half-convinced himself that it’s not important, that they have to get through this crisis first. He owes Scully the truth, but he can’t bring himself to add to her burden.

Post Memento Mori Mulder feels guilt over not telling Scully about her ova.

Let Them Eat Cake

Scully peruses the plate of donuts at the end of the table, irritated when she realizes that cake donuts are all that’s left. She feels someone lean in close behind her, and an arm snakes around to snag one of the chocolate-frosted ones with multi-colored sprinkles.

She glances over her shoulder to see Mulder’s grin. “You didn’t want that one, did you, Scully?”

She resists rolling her eyes through a strong effort of will. “I don’t like cake donuts, Mulder.”

“Cake donuts are the best kind,” Mulder protests, taking a big bite, catching the crumbs with his tongue.

S6 Mulder and Scully debate donuts at a team-building conference.

Under the Mistletoe

“Hm?” He adjusted his glasses as he looked up at her.

“Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

“About what?”

“You know about what.”

He frowned, clearly confused. “No, I don’t know. What did I do?”

Scully pointed to the mistletoe, waiting for him to confess, or at least smirk. Instead, his face remained completely innocent—although that didn’t mean much, since this was Mulder.

Pre-Dating-- Scully notices but avoids the mistletoe. Mulder does not.

Reflections

His old man had missed Vietnam, but Doggett had an uncle who’d joined up. He’d heard a few stories, most while on leave after boot camp. Uncle Duane seemed to think they shared a connection that hadn’t been there before, and he talked about steamy nights that were filled with gunfire and the smell of reefer.

Later, much later, when he’d been given an honorable discharge after Beirut, Uncle Duane had talked about the horror of watching your friends get limbs blown off, of hands stained with the blood of innocents.

Pre-This Is Not Happening Skinner shares the details of the Unrequited case with Doggett. Both wonder what was and wasn't worth it.

A Strong Shoulder

The knock on the door came as a surprise around ten, and Scully heaved herself up off the couch, one hand on her back for support. A quick glance through the peephole had her hurrying to open the door.

Mulder stood there, a crooked grin on his face, his eyes a little lost, a little vulnerable. “Hey.”

Post Three Words Mulder slowly drifts in, glad Scully wants him to stay even if he's handling reentry badly.

All I Ever Get For Christmas Is Blue

Scully gave thanks that William was such a good-natured baby; he stirred once as she bundled him up, opening his eyes sleepily, then immediately closed them again once he was secure in his carrier. Keys in hand, she set the car seat down in the hallway to lock the door behind her, then froze as she heard footsteps.

How was it that she could recognize his walk after he’d been gone for months? How was it that she could sense him coming even though she had no expectation of his arrival?

AU-- S9 Mulder returns to Scully and William for Christmas; but he leaves again, though both wishes he could stay.

@cauldronoflove/thegoodthebadandthenerdy's

Close Your Eyes, Be Patient

He stood in his forlorness like it was a new winter coat. It was draped across the downward curve of his shoulders, tugging impishly at his struggling-to-remain-steady mouth. It wasn't that she'd never seen him like this - as much as he tried to hide it, she knew there were certain cases that kept him awake long into the night, same as her - it was just that she'd never seen it so set in.

Pre-Dating-- Scully makes a calculated effort to carefully disentangle Mulder from his mind.

The Prairie State Debate

Dinner twisted away like dandelion wishes, table plated in hard plastic cups and warm to the touch dishes. The tea was syrupy sweet, made by the hand of a true Southern child despite their current place on the map, and the food sported heavy gravys and savory score marks - a combination that left Scully, two servings and only yeses for 'would you like a refill?' Scully, ready to collapse into the gossamer sheets of her bed until tomorrow.

But when she felt fingers on the rise of her shoulder, heard an absence of footsteps beside her, glanced up at a dazzling marquee, she lead the way in to the theater. She was tired, yes, but she had been more so, no doubt would be same time next week, and these moments like monthly allowances were something she needed as much as anything.

Dating-- Scully remembers their first not-date.

••• - •- -•--

It's dark out, moonlit sky extrapolating between the slats of still open blinds, but he gets the sense that it's not the same night he remembers falling asleep in. The only other light is a small lamp somewhere above him, casting low light that does nothing for his pale, thin skin. He looks fragile, even from his own estimates - battered and bruised and made from poorly picked and sewn together parts.

He can't help but think he doesn't deserve the smile he finds waiting for him, not in this state. That doesn't stop her though....

Scully saves a drugged up, nearly dead Mulder.

All I Need's a Fraction of Your Happy Heart

Scully ducked her head into the street, looking both ways before bustling across the crosswalk, Mulder following a single footstep behind. To onlookers, their height difference was exasperated as they hitched their arms up and jogged quickly through the sounds of honking traffic, but it never seemed to cross their minds. When they picked back up on the sidewalk, he ducked his head and leaned forward, just enough so she could hear him, just enough so she could let a laugh kick up her throat.

AU-- Scully, giddy and freshly married on a case, reflects on the events that led to their mutual proposal, and courthouse wedding.

Gravity, Oh Gravity

because the second thing he sees is scully. scully in a shirt he's had to have seen her in a thousand times, the one he thinks is green, but isn't sure because his eyes have always betrayed him. his eyes have to be betraying him. scully and-

and and and

(and his heart stops beating.)

it thunders back to life as he stumbles forward, legs feeling like they've been chopped from his body and reattached in the wrong direction.

AU-- This Is Not Happening Mulder wakes on the ground to the stars and Scully's face. Even Skinner cries.

Looking Back Over My Shoulder (I See it Clear as Day)

There are few people that Mulder is okay with calling him Fox. Admittedly, they're all named Scully....

Her sister isn't, though.

Revival Mulder and Scully chuckle over Melissa's ghost's audacity to chew out her sister's partner.

@youweremytouchstone's First time she winked at him!

He looks back over at the door. As usual, nobody down her except for him this early in the morning. He turns his attention to the cases piling up on his desk.

And then in a flash, she’s at his desk, looking at him like she’s been there the last hour.

Dating-- Scully enjoys teasing Mulder and pretending it never happened.

@pukajen's (Ao3, LJ) Sleep Cycle

Even all these years later, it feels like a stolen moment to watch him sleep peacefully; undrugged, unconcussed, in their bed, the one they've shared for years. So many times in the past she's kept vigil over his hospital bed, watching him sleep, worried he'd never wake up.

Revival Scully still loves watching Mulder sleep.

@dinascully/unsedentary's Miles Adrift

She said something about being blinded by someone’s brights, losing control, ending up in the ditch, and he tries not to think about whether or not this was an accident. He’s already called Skinner.

He waits a few minutes before trying to start the car again. If he’s lucky, they’ll be on their way and home before Scully wakes up. But the car has other plans – it coughs pitifully, whines, and refuses to go anywhere.

Breakup-- Scully and Mulder reconnect after a car accident. His car breaks down, forcing them to have a tearful conversation.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

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kats-fic-recs · 1 year

Text

The Best Batman fics I've read in 2022

As the end of the year comes closer, I've decided to make an Ao3 Wrapped for myself out of the best fics from every fandom I've read this year.

Here we go.....

The Best Batman fics I've read in 2022

Multi Media Marketing Mistakes

Gotham Gazette @gothamgazette

What did Oliver Queen and Bruce Wayne get up to in boarding school?! gothamgazette.com/baidguh24h

Oliver Queen @queenofficial

no comment

Bruce Wayne @brucewayne

@queenofficial you know that commenting ‘no comment’ on a tweet kind of defeats the point

Oliver Queen @queenofficial

@brucewayne shut up im not talking to you anymore

Bruce Wayne @brucewayne

@queenofficial then stop texting me

games without frontiers

“Pennyworth.”

When he turned, Damian was hesitating at the doorway. His face was white.

He recalled Thomas and Martha’s well-intentioned consolations and chidings -- little snippets of it’s just a bat and it won’t hurt you intermixed with please, just go to sleep, Bruce, I’ve checked all the windows, it’s silly--- and discarded them with a pang.

They hadn’t helped Bruce, after all.

“If the creature is so dangerous,” Alfred said neutrally, surfacing from the memory. “We’ll need to get it out of the house. For the safety of the others.”

“...For safety. Yes,” Damian said. When he turned around, the paleness in the boy’s face had faded. He seemed burgeoned by the impending responsibility. “I will assist you, of course.”

the politics of dancing

After months of silence following his mysterious resurrection from the dead, the prodigal Wayne heir shows up at an unlikely meeting.

“Where is Mr. Wayne?”

Jason crossed his legs, cracking his neck. “He’s not coming.”

“I was assured Mr. Wayne would be here.”

“Tough. Looks like you’ll have to settle for me, huh?”

Comes In Threes

Felicity Smoak has a bad track record with billionaires.

Scrub-A-Dub

Talon's new master has put him in water, and Talon does not know why. This new master, though...Talon thinks he might like this new master.

Frightening, But Not Afraid

When the family is hit by a new strain of fear toxin, safety is in numbers. Unfortunately, three members of the flock are still out there, afraid and alone. Bruce may not be the best at comforting his children, but apparently, he can let his wings do the talking.

((aka, the classic fear toxin hurt/comfort but with a splash of the classic wings-make-u-feel-safe hurt/comfort))

Reclaiming Innocence

Jason Todd was kidnapped at nine-years-old and given two options. Work for his keep, or be forced to to work for his keep.

His life was not pleasant, but Jason was nothing if not a fighter, and dammit if was he going to let the hell around him kill who he was as a person. Or his dreams of growing up and going to college.

Those dreams suddenly came a little more into focus, when his idiot of a pimp accidentally tried to rent him to Bruce Wayne. Poor bastard could have never guessed he was the Batman himself. Heck, not even Jason figured that out, at first. And Batman had practically adopted him.

What would you do, if it all came back to you?

"Still standing, Jason clicked on the folder and opened the first video – Jesus, there were quite a few – and suddenly Bruce was staring at him. He moved the mouse, thinking the video had frozen, but no, Bruce really did spend the first few seconds just staring. (...)

“I… I found the book in your bedside table. “The Picture of Dorian Gray.”” He paused, looked away, then back at the camera. “You were always reading. I can’t remember the last time I just read a book for fun.”"

The Jason Project

Jason had just wanted to see his autopsy report, he had only wanted to know what information Bruce had about his death. And when Bruce hadn't given it to him, he had stolen it. He hadn’t meant to stumble upon the bucket list of a dead child and the footage of a grieving father crossing one item after another off the list.

bad people don't live in our house

Bruce stirred when the bed beside him dipped, and the sheets across his chest were yanked hard.

“What,” Bruce said roughly. A small hand smacked against his face.

“Shh,” said a little voice. The sheets pulled again. “Go back to sleep.”

More Precious Than Gold

Most dragons sleep on their hoards.

Bruce's hoard sleeps on him.

Or: Bruce is a dragon. Predictably, he hoards orphans.

Gifts From the Sea

Bruce, aimless after abandoning his plans to become a special education teacher, takes an internship at Amnesty Bay Aquatic Zoo. His life changes forever when he meets the zoo's orphaned merboy. (AU where the Batkids are merpeople and Bruce is their human adoptive dad.)

I Was Lost For You to Find

Bruce never planned on having kids. After watching his parents die, the idea of starting a family of his own was foolishness at best and an impending disaster at worst. Never in his wildest dreams did Bruce think he'd ever be up to the task of raising a child, and he was okay with that. But when an orphaned acrobat starts weighing on his mind, Bruce makes the (questionable) decision to become a foster father. Everything after that is just dumb luck.

Yesterday's Voices

While trying to take down a drug cartel that deals with memory altering drugs, things go awry, and Batman wakes up with no recollection of the last five years.

As a result, his family must now race against time to find the antidote, while also having to deal with a Bruce who still thinks Jason is Robin. A Bruce who doesn't recognise most of them. A Bruce far less jaded and cynical than the one they're used to. A Bruce who still cares.

Take Care of Business

Summary: Bruce has a conference call with Wayne Enterprises. Having it at the Manor was, in hindsight, a really shitty idea.

“I don’t have your phone!”

The two boys began trading hits, yelling at the top of their lungs. Bruce turned back to the webcam just as Damian leapt on top of Tim’s back, a high-pitched battle cry torn from his lips.

“Mr. Hodges,” he said cheerfully, unflinching as Tim threw Damian into the wet bar sink. “Have you had a chance to examine the chart I pointed out?”

Brother Wanted

Well-behaved boy (10) is looking for big brother (11-15). Must meet up with me three times a week, for at least two hours each. Overall duties include helping me with homework, playing videogames with me, and showing me how to play catch. 10$ per hour.

Tim, lonely and in desperate need of company, decides that if his parents are not going to give him a sibling, he's going to hire one instead. Luckily, Jason Todd-Wayne shows up in the nick of time.

and i'll be two steps on the water

Studying his profile as she pours, the name clicks in her head like she knew it would. Even downturned, that face is unmistakable, and the realization thunders lightly in her mind.

Bruce Wayne.

All the Cups Got Broke

The police officers of metro Detroit had seen a lot of weird over the years, between the violence of the day-to-day, the year with all the freaky clown sightings, and that time with the tiger at the auto plant.

Their newest transfer - pretty-faced, former circus kid, son of a billionaire - might have been the weirdest, though.

his name was king

Everyone knows who the butler is.

The Bachelor: Robin Edition

Gotham loses its Robin and Bruce Wayne loses a son. Tim finds one of these too tragic to bear. In his quest to make sure Bruce Wayne lives to see the next year, he strikes upon the perfect solution: another son.

His best bet is, naturally, Crime Alley.

By 8 pm that day, Drake Manor is filled with ten black-haired, blue-eyed boys sitting around the large dining table, looking around the room suspiciously.

Well. Eleven. But Tim doesn’t think he counts.

Empty Graves

Swimming with the Fishes

The Bat rules Gotham with an iron fist. People do not come out of his Manor. They say he has a monster lurking within the building’s walls.

Jason is brought to the Manor as gift to earn the Bat’s favour.

*****

Mob Boss + Mers -> the combination you didn’t know you needed.

How to Train Your Mers

The tank lurched again and he silently begged for any sea god to please let him out of the dizzying, pitch-black hell. His body ached from getting beaten into the box’s side. The water was stale and disgusting in his gills. There wasn’t any light and he couldn’t see anything.

He was so full of fear he was beginning to get numb to it.

He didn’t know what these humans wanted with him, but he knew it couldn’t be good if they started by shoving him into this too-small box and tossing him around like a boat on an angry sea.

-----

Clark is an aquatic mammals trainer at the Metropolis Aquarium and Bruce is their very unruly new resident. Clark doesn't realise that Bruce is only the first of many mers that are going to live in the Aquarium.

Loading and Aspect Ratio

So, it didn’t start out like this.

Alfred would scoff at the statement, about how Bruce was trying to justify the whole situation to himself. It had started out as a simple design, black everything with black outlines and black hood. It got a little more intense as the world went on, got wind of his ghost on the streets, and became scared of The Bat . So Bruce got a little more creative with it, Alfred and him had a good laugh over the name, the scare, and Alfred had a vicious streak of humor that he had passed onto his ward-

So now the suit had a visible bat-theme, an insignia to drape in the shadows and to paint across the streets of Gotham.

It only took a year into the whole charade of heroism for Bruce to overhear a conversation between some goons- some low level thug hired by the Riddler this week- about nothing at all pertaining to what the hell the Riddler was doing in the sewers but instead:

“ The Batman can fly, you know, I’ve seen his wings.”

A world where nobody has wings, but people think they do, and that changes everything.

Bonus Superman fics:

Time travelers who plan to kill Superman never account for Martha Kent in their plans. She may not be the World's Finest, but she's a mother with a shotgun, and all told that might be scarier.

darling, so it goes

Clark shows up still wearing his suit—the sixth and final attempt—holding tight onto a little girl’s hand and looking terrified. The same symbol from his ship is displayed onto her odd looking clothes. Martha takes one look at the pair of ‘em and then goes to see if they’ve got any lemonade in the house

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congruenceadvisers · 12 days

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Navigating Second Wave and Impending Lockdowns: A Strategic Guide for Investors

As the world grapples with the resurgence of COVID-19 cases, accompanied by the looming specter of fresh lockdowns, investors find themselves standing at a critical juncture, pondering their next moves. The COVID-19 pandemic has unleashed unprecedented volatility in global markets, challenging even the most seasoned investors to adapt to the rapidly changing landscape. In this flash note, we dissect the current scenario and provide strategic insights on how investors can navigate the second wave and impending lockdowns.

Understanding the Current Landscape

The emergence of new variants, coupled with lagging vaccination rates in certain regions, has fueled the resurgence of COVID-19 cases worldwide. Governments are once again confronted with the daunting task of balancing public health concerns with economic stability. In response, many countries are contemplating or already implementing stricter measures, including partial or complete lockdowns, to curb the spread of the virus.

Market Reaction and Volatility

Unsurprisingly, financial markets have reacted to the resurgence of COVID-19 with heightened volatility. Investor sentiment oscillates between optimism fueled by vaccine advancements and apprehension regarding the economic impact of renewed restrictions. Equity markets, which experienced a robust recovery following the initial outbreak, are now exhibiting signs of nervousness as uncertainty looms large.

Strategic Considerations for Investors

In times of uncertainty, a well-thought-out investment strategy becomes paramount. Here are several considerations for investors navigating the current environment:

Diversification: Diversifying your investment portfolio across asset classes can help mitigate risk during periods of heightened volatility. Allocating assets to defensive sectors such as healthcare, consumer staples, and utilities can provide stability amidst market turbulence.

Risk Management: Adopting robust risk management practices, including setting stop-loss orders and regularly rebalancing portfolios, can help protect capital during volatile market conditions. Additionally, considering the inclusion of alternative investments with low correlation to traditional asset classes can enhance portfolio resilience.

Quality Over Quantity: In uncertain times, prioritizing quality investments with strong fundamentals and resilient business models can provide a buffer against market downturns. Focus on companies with solid balance sheets, sustainable cash flows, and competitive advantages within their respective industries.

Opportunistic Investing: Market downturns often present attractive buying opportunities for long-term investors. Keeping a watchful eye on undervalued assets and selectively adding to positions can yield favorable returns over the investment horizon. However, exercising caution and conducting thorough due diligence is essential to avoid value traps.

Adaptability and Flexibility: Flexibility is key in navigating rapidly evolving market dynamics. Remain vigilant, stay informed about geopolitical developments, and be prepared to adjust investment strategies accordingly. Being nimble allows investors to capitalize on emerging trends and mitigate downside risks.

Long-Term Perspective: While short-term fluctuations may induce anxiety, maintaining a long-term investment perspective is crucial for achieving financial goals. Avoid succumbing to knee-jerk reactions driven by market sentiment and adhere to disciplined investment principles based on sound fundamentals and research.

Conclusion

The resurgence of COVID-19 and the prospect of renewed lockdowns have injected a fresh wave of uncertainty into financial markets. However, with uncertainty comes opportunity for investors who approach the situation with diligence and strategic foresight. By diversifying portfolios, managing risk, prioritizing quality investments, seizing opportune moments, remaining adaptable, and maintaining a long-term perspective, investors can navigate the current environment with confidence. While challenges persist, disciplined investors stand poised to weather the storm and emerge stronger on the other side.

#finance #investing stocks #investment #stock market #stock trading

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cafoundationbook · 3 months

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CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024

Updated by ICAI

The Institute of Chartered Accountants of India (ICAI) is ushering in a new era for CA Intermediate aspirants with the introduction of an updated syllabus, set to roll out on July 1, 2023. The maiden voyage for this revamped curriculum will be the CA Intermediate 2023 exam, scheduled for May 2024. To navigate these changes seamlessly, aspiring Chartered Accountants must remain well-versed and attuned to the transformation. It's worth noting that, under the existing syllabus, the final exam is slated for November 2023.

Key Transition: CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024

The impending alterations demand meticulous attention from students, urging them to delve into the intricacies of the CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024. This proactive approach is vital as examinations from the upcoming year onward will strictly adhere to this refreshed curriculum. Let's delve into the essential aspects of the new syllabus and how candidates can gear up for success.

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024 Papers

The CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024 has 6 main subjects. Students can take the help of some of the best CA Intermediate Books to qualify their CA Intermediate Exam. Here’s a simple breakdown of each one for a better understanding of the students:

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024

S. No

Paper Name

Marks

Advanced Accounting

100 Marks

Corporate And Other Laws

Part I: Company Law And Limited Liability Partnership Law

Part Ii: Other Laws

100 Marks

Part I: 70 Marks

Part II: 30 Marks

Taxation

Section A: Income Tax Law

Section B: Goods and Services Tax

100 Marks

Section A: 50 Marks

Section B: 50 Marks

Cost and Management Accounting

100 Marks

Auditing and Ethics

100 Marks

Financial Management And

Strategic Management

Section A: Financial Management

Section B: Strategic Management

100 Marks

50 Marks

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024 Paper 1: Advanced Accounting

The section of the CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024 emphasizes the practical application of accounting principles in real-world business scenarios. It involves the preparation of financial statements, incorporating Indian Accounting Standards that closely resemble International Financial Reporting Standards (IFRS). Additionally, the curriculum addresses the convergence with or adoption of IFRS, along with the framework for the preparation of financial statements.

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024: Advanced Accounting

Topics

Sub Topics

Application of Accounting Standards

AS1 Disclosure of Accounting Policies

AS2 Valuation of Inventories

AS3 Cash Flow Statements

AS4 Contingencies and Events Occurring After the Balance Sheet Date

AS5 Net Profit or Loss for the Period, Prior Period Items and Changes in Accounting Policies

AS6 Construction Contracts

AS7 Revenue Recognition

AS8 Property, Plant and Equipment

AS9 The Effects of Changes in Foreign Exchange Rates

AS10 Accounting for Government Grants

AS11 Accounting for Investments

AS12 Accounting for Amalgamations (excluding inter-company holdings)

AS13 Employee Benefits

AS14 Borrowing Costs

AS15 Segment Reporting

AS16 Related Party Disclosures

AS17 Leases Earnings Per Share

AS18 Consolidated Financial Statements of single subsidiaries (excluding problems involving acquisition of Interest in Subsidiary at Different Dates, Cross holding, Disposal of a Subsidiary and Foreign Subsidiaries)

AS19 Accounting for Taxes on Income

AS20 Accounting for Investment in Associates in Consolidated Financial Statements

AS21 Discontinuing Operations

AS22 Interim Financial Reporting

AS23 Intangible Assets

AS24 Financial Reporting of Interests in Joint Ventures

AS25 Impairment of Assets

AS26 Provisions, Contingent Liabilities, and Contingent Assets

Company Accounts

Schedule III to the Companies Act, 2013 (Division I)

Preparation of financial statements – Statement of Profit and Loss, Balance Sheet, and Cash Flow Statement

Buyback of securities

Accounting for the reconstruction of companies

Accounting for Branches, including foreign branches.

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024 Paper 2: Corporate and Other Laws

The aim of this segment within the CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024 is to comprehend legal statutes and their practical applications. It entails gaining insights into legal frameworks and their pragmatic utilization.

Key Learning Objectives:

Comprehend the principles and applications of the General Clauses Act.

Acquire familiarity with the statutory interpretation rules crucial for legal practice.

Develop foundational knowledge of the Foreign Exchange Management Act of 1999, particularly its provisions concerning foreign exchange and financial transactions.

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024: Corporate and Other Laws

Topics

Sub Topics

Part 1: COMPANY LAW AND LIMITED LIABILITY PARTNERSHIP LAW

The Companies Act 2013

Preliminary Incorporation of Company and Matters Incidental thereto, Prospectus and Allotment of Securities, Share Capital and Debentures, Acceptance of Deposits by Companies, Registration of Charges, Management and Administration, Declaration and Payment of Dividend, Accounts of Companies, Audit and Auditors, Companies Incorporated Outside India

The Limited Liability Partnership Act, 2008 including important Rules

PART 2: OTHER LAWS

The General Clauses Act, 1897

Important Definitions, Extent and Applicability, General Rules of Construction, Powers and Functionaries, Provisions as to Orders, Rules, etc. made under Enactments and

Miscellaneous provisions

Interpretation of Statutes

Rules of Interpretation of Statutes, Aids to Interpretation, Rules of Interpretation/Construction of Deeds and Documents

The Foreign Exchange Management Act, 1999

Significant definitions and concepts of Current and

Capital Account Transactions

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024 Paper 3: Taxation

The goal is to comprehend income tax regulations and employ them in practical scenarios, alongside grasping the fundamentals of the goods and services tax for addressing complex situations effectively.

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024: Taxation

Topics

Sub Topics

Section A: Income Tax Laws

Basic Concepts

Income-tax law: An introduction

Significant concepts in income-tax law, including person, assessee, previous year, assessment year, income, agricultural income

Basis of Charge

Procedure for computation of total income and tax payable in case of individuals

Residential status and scope of total income

Residential status

Scope of total income

Heads of income and the provisions governing computation of income under different heads

Salaries

Income from house property

Profits and gains of business or profession

Capital gains

Income from other sources

Provisions relating to clubbing of income, set-off or carry forward and set-off of losses, deductions from gross total income

Advance Tax, Tax deduction at source and tax collection at source

Provisions for filing return of income and self-assessment

Computation of total income and income-tax payable by an individual under the alternative tax regimes under the Income-tax Act, 1961 to optimise tax liability

Section B: Goods And Services Tax (GST)

Objective:

To develop an understanding of the provisions of goods and services tax law.

To acquire the ability to apply such provisions to address/ solve issues in moderately complex scenarios.

GST Laws: An introduction including Constitutional aspects

Levy and collection of CGST and IGST

Application of CGST/IGST law

Concept of supply including composite and mixed supplies

Charge of tax including reverse charge

Exemption from tax Composition levy

Basic Concepts

Classification

Place of supply

Time of supply

Value of supply

Input tax credit

Computation of GST liability

Registration

Tax invoice; Credit and Debit Notes; Electronic way bill

Accounts and Records

Returns

Payment of tax

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024 Paper 4: Cost and Management Accounting

To grasp the fundamental concepts and use them to calculate the costs of making products and offering services, and then use this information to set prices.

To understand cost accounting statements.

To apply this knowledge for determining costs, planning, control, and decision-making, and use various methods to calculate costs for different purposes.

To employ suitable techniques for making short-term decisions.

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024: Cost and Management Accounting

Topics

Sub Topics

Paper 4: Cost and Management Accounting

Overview of Cost and Management Accounting:

Introduction to Cost and Management Accounting

Objectives and Scope of Cost and Management Accounting.

The users of Cost and Management accounting information, Functions of management

Accounting.

Role of the cost accounting department in an organization and its relation with other departments.

Installation of Costing System.

Relationship of Cost Accounting, Financial Accounting, Management Accounting and

Financial Management.

Cost terms and Concepts.

Cost Reduction and Cost Control

Elements of Costs.

Cost behavior pattern, Separating the components of fixed, variable, semi-variable, and step costs.

Methods of Costing, Techniques of Costing.

Digital Costing

Elements of Cost and Preparation of Cost Sheets

Functional classification and ascertainment of cost.

Preparation of Cost Sheets for the Manufacturing sector and for the Service sector.

Ascertainment of Cost and Cost Accounting System

Material Cost

Introduction to procurement procedures. Valuation of receipts, issue and closing stock of Material, Stock verification.

Material requirement analysis through digital costing including Government e-Marketplace (GeM). Introduction to Costing through Enterprise Resource Planning (ERP). Process of tender and quotation.

Inventory control:

Techniques of fixing the level of stocks- minimum, maximum, reorder point, safety stock, determination of the optimum stock level

Determination of Optimum Order Quantity- Economic Order Quantity (EOQ)

Techniques of Inventory control- ABC Analysis, Fast, Slow moving and Non-moving (FSN), High, Medium, Low (HML), Vital, Essential, Desirable (VED), Just-in-Time (JIT)- Stock taking and perpetual inventory system, use of inventory control ratios, Digital Inventory control.

Treatment of Normal/Abnormal Losses w.r.t. waste, scrap, spoilage, defective, obsolescence.

Employee Cost

Introduction to Attendance and Payroll procedures.

Elements of wages- Basic pay, Dearness Allowance, Overtime, Bonus, Holiday and leave

wages, Allowances, and perquisites

Employee Cost Control

Employee Turnover- Methods of calculating employee turnover, causes of employee turnover, effects of employee turnover

Remuneration systems and incentive schemes- Premium Bonus Method (Halsey Plan and Rowan Plan

Direct Expenses

Identification of direct expenses with the main product or service and its treatment

Overheads

Functional analysis- Factory, Administration, Selling, Distribution, Research and Development.

Behavioral analysis- Fixed, Variable and Semi-Variable.

Allocation and Apportionment of overheads using the Absorption Costing Method.

Factory Overheads- Primary and secondary distribution.

Administration Overheads- Method of allocation to cost centers or products.

Selling & Distribution Overheads- Analysis and absorption of the expenses in products/customers, the impact of marketing strategies, and the cost-effectiveness of various methods of sales promotion.

Treatment of Research and development cost in cost accounting

Concepts of Activity-Based Costing (ABC)

Integration of Cost and Financial Data

Recording of financial data and its segregation.

Introduction to Non-integrated and Integrated Accounting Systems.

Items included in cost accounts only but financial accounts and vice versa.

Reconciliation of profit as per Cost and Financial Accounts (under Non-Integrated Accounting System)

Methods of Costing

Single Output/ Unit Costing

Job Costing

Job cost cards and databases, collecting direct costs of each job, attributing overheads to jobs, Application of job costing.

Batch Costing

Determination of optimum batch quantity, Ascertainment of cost for a batch, Preparation of

batch cost sheet, Treatment of spoiled and defective work

Process/Operation Costing

Process cost recording, Process loss, Abnormal gains and losses, Equivalent units of

production, Inter-process profit, and Valuation of work in process.

Joint Products-Apportionment of joint costs, Methods of apportioning joint cost over joint Products.

By-Products-Methods of apportioning joint costs over by-products, treatment of By-Product cost

Costing of Service Sectors

Determination of Costs and Prices of services

Standard Costing

Setting up Standards, Types of Standards, and Standard Costing as a method of performance Measurement.

Calculation and Reconciliation of Material Cost, Labour cost, Variable Overhead, Fixed Overhead.

Cost Control and Analysis

Marginal Costing

Basic concepts of marginal costing, Contribution margin, Break-even analysis, Break–even and profit volume charts, Contribution to sales ratio, Margin of Safety, Angle of Incidence,

Cost-Volume-Profit Analysis (CVP).

Determination of Cost of a product/ service under marginal costing method, determination of

cost of finished goods, work-in-progress.

Comparison of Marginal costing with absorption costing method- Reconciliation of profit under both methods.

Short-term decision-making:

Make or buy decision

Discontinuation decision

Multiproduct break-even analysis

Limiting factor (key factor)

Budget and Budgetary Control

Meaning of Budget, Essentials of Budget, Budget Manual, Budget setting process, Preparation of Budget and monitoring procedures.

The use of budget in planning and control.

Flexible budget, Preparation of Functional budget for operating and non-operating functions

Cash budget, Master budget.

Introduction to Principal/ Key budget factor Zero Based Budgeting (ZBB), Performance budget, Control ratios, and Budget variances.

Budgets and motivation.

Feedback and Feedforward controlling in budgeting

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024 Paper 5: Auditing and Ethics

The CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024 for auditing aims to teach you auditing concepts, techniques, and ethical principles.

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024: Auditing and Ethics

Topics

Sub Topics

Nature, Objective, and Scope of Audit

Auditing Concepts:

Origin of Auditing,

Meaning of Audit,

Need for Audit (Benefits of Audit), Objective of the Audit, Scope of Audit, External Audit engagements,

Qualities of Auditor

Inherent Limitations of an Audit; Relationship of auditing with other disciplines.

(SA 200 Overall Objectives of the Independent Auditor and the Conduct of an Audit in Accordance with Standards on Auditing)

Audit Strategy, Audit Planning and Audit Program:

The auditor’s responsibility to plan an audit of financial statements. Benefits of audit planning.

Planning is a continual and iterative process.

Discussion of elements of planning with the entity’s management.

Involvement of Key Engagement Team Members in planning the audit. Preliminary engagement activities.

The auditor’s consideration of client continuance and ethical requirements. Planning activities.

Establishing an overall audit strategy- Assistance for the auditor. Development of audit plan.

Documenting the overall audit strategy and audit plan; Audit program.

Development of Audit Plan and Program

Risk Assessment and Internal Control:

Audit Risk.

Risk of Material Misstatement, Inherent Risk and Control Risk, and Detection Risk.

Sampling and Non-Sampling Risk.

Concept of Materiality, Materiality in Planning and Performing an Audit.

The auditor’s responsibility to apply the concept of materiality.

An auditor’s determination of materiality is a matter of professional judgment. Materiality and Audit

Risk.

Application of materiality in planning and performing the audit. Concept of Performance Materiality.

Determining materiality and performance materiality when planning the audit.

Use of Benchmarks in determining materiality for the financial statements as a whole. Materiality level or levels for particular classes of transactions, account balances, or disclosures.

Revision in materiality as the audit progresses. Documenting the Materiality.

(SA 320 Materiality in Planning and Performing an Audit).

Identifying and Assessing the Risk of Material Misstatement, Risk Assessment procedures.

Understanding the entity and its environment; Internal control.

Documenting the Risks.

Evaluation of internal control system.

Testing of Internal control; Internal Control and IT Environment (SA 315 Identifying and Assessing the

Risks of Material Misstatement Through Understanding the Entity and Its Environment).

Digital Audit

Key features

Impact of IT-related Risks

Impact on Controls

Internal Financial Controls as per Regulatory requirements

Types of Controls

Audit approach

Understanding and documenting Automated environment

Testing methods, data analytics for audit, assessing and reporting audit findings.

Audit Evidence

Meaning of Audit Evidence.

Relevance and Reliability of Audit Evidence

Sufficient appropriate audit evidence

Meaning of Assertions

Assertions contained in the Financial Statements. Source of audit evidence

Test of controls

Substantive Procedures- Test of details and Substantive analytical procedures, Audit procedures for obtaining audit evidence.

Evaluation of Audit Evidence (SA 500 Audit Evidence), Audit Trail

(Using the work of Internal Auditors – SA 610)

Internal audit function.

External Auditor’s Responsibility for the audit, Evaluating the internal audit function.

Basics of Internal Financial Control and reporting requirements. The distinction between Internal Financial Control and Internal Control over Financial Reporting.

Audit Sampling: (SA 530 Audit Sampling). Meaning of Audit Sampling.

Designing an audit sample; Types of sampling (Approaches to Sampling).

Sample Size and selection of items for testing; Sample selection method.

Obtaining evidence of the existence of inventory; Audit procedure to identify litigation & claims.

Obtaining evidence regarding the presentation and disclosure of segment information

(SA 501 Audit Evidence – Specific Considerations for Selected Items)

External confirmation procedures.

Management’s refusal to allow the auditor to send a confirmation request; Negative Confirmations (SA 505 External Confirmations); Audit evidence about opening balances; Accounting policies relating to opening balances; Reporting with regard to opening balances (SA 510 Initial Audit Engagements-Opening Balances)

Meaning of Related Party; Nature of Related Party Relationships & Transactions; Understanding the Entity’s Related Party Relationships & Transactions (SA 550 Related Parties)

Analytical Procedures.

Meaning, nature, purpose, and timing of analytical procedures; Substantive analytical procedures.

Designing and performing analytical procedures prior to Audit.

Investigating the results of analytical procedures (SA 520 Analytical Procedures)

Audit of Items of Financial Statements

Audit of sale of Products and Services; Audit of Interest Income, Rental Income, Dividend Income, Net gain/loss on sale of Investments, etc.

Audit of Purchases, Employee benefits expenses, Depreciation, Interest expense, Expenditure on Power and fuel, Rent, Repair to building, Repair to Machinery, Insurance, Taxes, Travelling Expenses, Miscellaneous Expenses, etc.

Audit of Share Capital, Reserve and surplus, Long-term Term Borrowings, Trade Payables, Provisions, Short-term Term Borrowings, and other Current Liabilities.

Audit of Land, Buildings, Plant and equipment, Furniture and fixtures, Vehicles, office equipment, Goodwill, Brand/Trademarks, Computer Software, etc.

Audit of Loans and advances, Trade Receivable, Inventories, Cash and cash Equivalent, and Other Current Assets. Audit of Contingent Liabilities. (The list of items is illustrative only.)

Audit Documentation

Concept of Audit Documentation

Nature & Purpose of Audit Documentation; Form, Content & Extent of Audit Documentation. Completion Memorandum.

Ownership and custody of Audit Documentation (SA 230 Audit Documentation).

Completion and Review

Meaning of Subsequent Events;

Auditors’ obligations in different situations of subsequent events.

Procedures for subsequent events. (SA 560 Subsequent Events).

Responsibilities of the Auditor with regard to Going Concern Assumption; Objectives of the Auditor

regarding Going Concern.

Events or Conditions that may cast doubt about the Going Concern Assumption.

Audit Procedures when events or conditions are identified (SA 570 Going Concern). Overview and

Introduction of Evaluations of Misstatements identified during the audit (SA 450).

Written Representations as Audit Evidence.

Objective of Auditor regarding Written Representation.

Management from whom Written Representations may be requested.

Audit Report

Forming an opinion on the Financial Statements.

Auditor’s Report- basic elements (SA 700 Forming an Opinion and Reporting on Financial Statements).

Communicating key Audit Matters in the Independent Auditor’s Report (SA 701) Types of Modified Opinion, Circumstances When a Modification to the Auditor’s Opinion is Required, Qualified, Adverse Disclaimer of Opinion (SA 705 Modification to the Opinion in the Independent Auditor’s Report).

SA 706 Emphasis of Matter Paragraphs and Other Matter Paragraphs in the Independent Auditor’s Report.

Nature of Comparative Information.

Corresponding Figure; Comparative Financial Statements (SA 710 Comparative Information – Corresponding Figures and Comparative Financial Statements).

Branch audit; Joint audit; Reporting requirements under the Companies Act, 2013, including CARO

Special Features of Audit of Different Types of Entities

Appointment of Auditor,

Audit Procedure and Audit Report in respect of different Category of Entities

Government; Local bodies; Not-for-profit organizations; Trust and Societies, Partnership Firms

Audit of different types of undertakings, i.e., Educational Institutions, Hotels, Clubs, Hospitals, etc.

Basics of Limited Liability Partnerships (LLPs) Audit and Co-operative Societies Audit.

Audit of Banks

Understanding of accounting systems in Banks

Audit Approach

Audit of Revenue items,

Special Consideration in Bank Audit with emphasis on Advances and NPAs

Ethics and Terms of Audit Engagements

Meaning of Ethics. – Ethics is a State of Mind, Need for Professional Ethics.

Principles-based approach v Rules-based approach (Ethical or Legal).

The fundamental principles of Professional Ethics: Integrity;

Objectivity; Professional Competence and Due care; Confidentiality; Professional Behaviour.

Independence of Auditors.

Threats to Independence: Self-interest threats, Self Review threats, Advocacy threats, Familiarity threats, Intimidation threats.

Safeguards to Independence; Professional Scepticism, Terms of Audit Engagements Preconditions for an audit; Audit Engagement

Agreement on Audit Engagement Terms

Terms of Engagement in Recurring Audits (SA 210 Agreeing the Terms of Audit Engagements)

Overview and Introduction of SQC 1 Quality Control for Firms that Perform Audits and Reviews of Historical Financial Information and Other Assurance and Related Services Engagements

Overview and Introduction of SA 220 – Quality Control for an Audit of Financial Statements).

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024 Paper 6: Financial Management and Strategic Management

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024's Financial Management module instructs on money management, wise financial decisions, and working capital management.

CA Intermediate New Syllabus 2024: Financial Management and Strategic Management

Topics

Sub Topics

SECTION A: FINANCIAL MANAGEMENT

Financial Management and Financial Analysis

Introduction to Financial Management Function

Objective and scope of financial management

Profit Maximisation, Wealth Maximisation and Value Creation

Role of Financial Manager and Financial Controller

Financial management environment

Functions of finance executives in an organization

Financial distress and insolvency

Financial Analysis through Ratios

Users of financial analysis.

Sources of financial data for analysis.

Calculation and Interpretation of ratios.

Limitations of ratio analysis

Financing Decisions and Cost of Capital

Sources of Finance

Different Sources of Finance, Characteristics of different types of long-term debt and equity

finance, Method of raising long-term finance.

Different Sources of Short-term Finance.

Contemporary sources of funding- P2P lending, Equity funding, Crowdfunding, Start-up funding, etc.

Internal funds as a source of finance.

International sources of finance

Other sources of finance- Lease Financing, Sale and leaseback, Convertible debt, Venture capital, Grants, etc.

Cost of Capital

Significance of cost of capital

Factors of cost of capital

Measurement of costs of individual components of capital

Weighted average cost of capital (WACC)

The marginal cost of capital.

Capital Structure Decisions

Significance of capital structure

Determinants of capital structure

Capital structure planning and designing

Designing of optimum capital structure.

Theories of Capital Structure and Value of the firm-relevancy and Irrelevancy of Capital Structure

EBIT- EPS Analysis, Breakeven- EBIT Analysis.

Under/ Over Capitalisation

Leverages

Types of Leverages- Operating,

Financial and Combined. Analysis of leverages.

Capital Investment and Dividend Decisions:

Capital Investment Decisions:

The objective of capital investment decisions

Methods of Investment Appraisal

Payback period, Discounted payback period.

Accounting Rate of Return (ARR).

Net Present Value (NPV) – The meaning of NPV, Strengths, and limitations of NPV method, The working capital adjustment in NPV analysis, Capital rationing, and Equivalent Annual Costs.

Internal Rate of Return (IRR)- Limitations of the IRR method, Multiple IRRs.

Modified Internal Rate of Return (MIRR)- Definition and explanation of MIRR, Process for calculating MIRR, Strengths of the MIRR approach. – Profitability Index

Dividend Decisions

Basics of Dividends.

Cash dividend, stock dividend/ bonus share, stock splits, share buyback.

Determinants of dividend.

Relevancy and Irrelevancy of Dividend Policies- Traditional Approach, Walter’s model, Gordon’s model, Modigliani and Miller (MM) Hypothesis

Management of Working Capital:

The management of working capital- Liquidity and Profitability.

The Working capital financing decisions- Primary and Secondary Sources of Liquidity.

The Working Capital Cycle (Operating Cycle) is the effectiveness of Working Capital based on its operating and cash conversion cycles.

Assessment of working capital requirement.

Management of Accounts Receivables (Debtors).

Factoring and Forfaiting.

Credit Management:

– Credit granting.

– Monitoring accounts receivables.

– Debt collection.

Management of Accounts Payables (Creditors). Management of Cash and treasury management.

Banking norms of working capital finance

SECTION B: STRATEGIC MANAGEMENT (50 MARKS)

Introduction to Strategic Management

Meaning and Nature of Strategic Management.

Importance and Limitations of Strategic Management.

Strategic Intent – Vision, Mission, Goals and Values.

Strategic Levels in Organizations (Network, Corporate, Business and Functional)

Strategic Analysis: External Environment

International and Macro Environment: PESTLE

Analysis. Defining the industry for analysis (Value Chain, PLC).

Porter’s Five Forces – Industry environment analysis.

Understanding customers and markets.

Competition in the industry

Strategic Analysis: Internal Environment

Understanding key stakeholders (Mendelow’s Model).

Strategic drivers (Industry & markets, Customers, Channels, Products & Services, Competitive

Advantage).

The role of resources and capabilities.

Combining external and internal analysis (SWOT Analysis).

Gaining competitive advantage (Michael Porter’s Generic Strategies).

Strategic Choices

Strategic Choices: Concentric, Conglomerate, Market Development, Product Development, Innovation, Horizontal integration, vertical integration, Turnaround, Divesture, Liquidation.

How to Develop Strategic Options:

Ansoff’s Matrix

ADL Matrix

BCG Matrix

GE Matrix

Strategy Implementation and Evaluation

Implementation: Formulation vs. Implementation Matrix, Linkages and Issues.

Strategic Change through Digital Transformation.

Organization Structure (hard) and Culture (soft).

Strategic Leadership.

Strategic Control

Strategic Performance Measures

Conclusion

The updated CA Intermediate syllabus for 2024, as released by ICAI, reflects the evolving landscape of the accounting profession. Scanner CA Intermediate Books are the best for students willing to give the CA Intermediate May 2024 exam. It incorporates contemporary topics, aligning with international standards and technological advancements. With a focus on practical skills and holistic development, the revised syllabus aims to equip aspiring chartered accountants with the competencies needed to thrive in a dynamic global market. These changes mark a significant step towards ensuring relevance and excellence in accounting education.

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ailtrahq · 7 months

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In early September 2023, the US Financial Accounting Standards Board (FASB) finally approved the commonly accepted accounting practice of mark to market accounting to apply to corporations and businesses holding crypto digital assets. Previously, companies like Microstrategy and Tesla needed to file crypto digital assets as intangible assets like goodwill and Intellectual Property (IP). If the value of these intangibles went down, they needed to declare a loss. However, if the value of the intangible went up, these companies were not allowed to declare a gain of asset values. Michael Saylor of Microstrategy, perhaps the most visible Bitcoin bull who has accumulated a lot of Bitcoin for his company, pushed the FASB to make the move. Every time the Bitcoin spot price took a dive during reporting season, Microstrategy had to declare a loss. However, when the spot price rose during reporting season, they could not declare the higher asset price. Saylor felt it was unfair that the negative downside needed to show up in the balance sheet, but not the positive upside. The new FASB rule puts crypto in a separate digital asset category, where the gain or loss based on the acquisition price, would be declared in a mark to market fashion. Although the rule formally takes effect in 2025, companies that choose to adopt it earlier may do so. This accounting rule change has massive consequences for Bitcoin and crypto adoption into the corporate treasury world. Previously, management and CEOs felt that acquiring digital assets would penalize their quarterly performance. With this change, corporate finance managers can determine the adequate portfolio allocation based on the upside potential (alpha) and volatility (beta) of the digital asset. The FASB announcement seems timed with the impending SEC approval of a Bitcoin (or even Ethereum) spot ETF, the world of digital assets will no longer be the market that started with crypto punks and adventurous individuals. A spot Bitcoin ETF will give the corporate holder the protections of the law that the SEC provides. Prior to any approval, the SEC asked all proponents to ensure that the entity selling the ETF (like Blackrock or Fidelity) will be separate from the custodian (like Coinbase), and trade monitor (like the Chicago Mercantile or the NASDAQ). Recently, Grayscale won a DC Court of Appeals decision against the SEC. The three judge court said that since the SEC had approved a futures ETF, there was no reason why it could not approve a spot ETF which was correlated in most cases to the futures price anyway. Once corporations, family offices, sovereign wealth, hedge funds and other institutional clients adopt Bitcoin and crypto, the high price volatility may go away because these entities are not prone to sudden selling. Also their tranches of orders will not be in the tens or hundreds of dollars that finicky retail investors do, but in the millions and billions. The volatility of Bitcoin and other cryptos is really more a function of who is buying and selling these assets. Right now, most holders on the market are retail traders and speculators. With the advent of institutional buyers, it is expected that the volatility could dampen somewhat because these larger parties do not really go in and out of the market that quickly. Once a spot Bitcoin ETF gives these institutions the protections that the SEC provides to investors, coupled with this accounting change, the market cap and usage of these digital assets could grow substantially over the next few years.

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customerserviceusa · 2 years

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Top Ways Financial Recovery Services Help Simply Debt Recovery Process

Missed payment may not be intentional. However, there are times when customers may forget to pay or think they've already paid. Debt collection is integral to lending businesses, yet, things need not be complicated. As a financial lending firm, you must strengthen the debt recovery game to earn steady revenue streams. Moreover, you need to save yourself from impending losses.

The collection process

Debt collection is a creditor's attempt to recover loans that are yet to be paid back by a customer. With the right strategies, you can not reduce the cost and time but also drive a better customer experience. It involves going beyond just sending email and making repeat phone calls and instead resorting to a more contemporary approach. Financial debt recovery agency use a comprehensive collection management system.

Sending account updates in Real-time

A collections process that features automated synchronization ensures that delinquency data gets updated in real-time. In addition, features including automated statement generation and sending payment notifications to customers can ensure that the customers get notified about their dues well in advance to prepare themselves. Automaton also provides that the agents don't touch base and annoy the customer who's already paid off their dues.

Integration of contact preferences & behavioral segmentation

Companies can record a borrower's contact preferences in order to contact them with the most probable mode of communication. There are digital channels that offer a hassle-free way of getting in touch with borrowers. Financial recovery services utilize advanced analytics, machine learning, and automation in order to run tailored messages through the customer's preferred channels at strategic time gaps.

Scheduled tracking

With the scheduled payment reminders, including SMS texts and emails, it's an easy way to follow up with a borrower. Systematic follow-up of borrowers' accounts reinforces a sense of seriousness and urgency for the customer.

Utilize contact collection system

It is a secure end-to-end debt collection solution that helps businesses automate and streamline the collection process. Contact offers transparent processing while being scalable. Moreover, you can optimize collection costs and reduce human intervention comprehensively.

The user-friendly debt collection software can be configured quickly and efficiently; its flexible yet secure user interface helps users to implement their strategies. In addition, you can configure the data grid as per the demand.

Running best practices

Change in collections and recovery starts with the first stage of the credit cycle-debt origination. Then, when the customer applies for credit, when you approve them, and when you set the right credit terms, the customer can repay on time and implement the credit by setting the terms of the agreement. Here you have the option to set up a potential delinquent.

Successful change here is a matter of insight, managing the risk of customer delinquency, and enhancing collections and recovery operations if delinquency occurs. The basic principle is prevention is better than cure,

Centralized information and insights

Take responsibilities and user groups in an aggregated viewing and reporting system, with automatic notifications of changes. Everyone responsible for a customer account must be able to discover everything they need to know about that account with a simple process.

Manage documents

Credit origination creates many documents. When organizing and digitizing as many of these as possible, you can create an unbroken record of everything that's happened during the creation. That record helps inform the recovery strategies if any account becomes delinquent.

Adopt robust risk analysis

Risk analysis tools and personnel access open a platform for necessary data, including financial statements and balance sheets. In addition, it can calculate appropriate risk-related metrics, including the probability of default and loss given default.

Institute productivity reporting

Financial recovery services must track team productivity to manage operations in real-time. Whatever tool or process you introduce here should enable you to sort, filter, visualize and export data.

Conclusion

When going for debt collection, looking for the long term is essential. Introducing new systems starts with announcement and consultation, and collection and recovery begin long before a loan ceases to perform. Professional financial recovery services teams include data-driven, intelligent, customer-centric, and experienced approaches. We can reach out to customers via channels where they're likely to respond and educate staff to engage with them on the best possible terms.

#financial recovery services #Financial debt recovery agency

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strawwritesfic · 2 years

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Peter Parker x Pregnant!Female!Stark!Reader: Where Gods Do Fear to Tread [Ch. 3]

Summary: The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry, the best laid plans of teenagers even more so.

Challenge: “9 Months” challenge by crackleviolet on Lunaescence Archive -- Bonus Two -- Teenage Pregnancy

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (sexual references; two underage people having consensual sex off the page; teenage pregnancy; family drama; mixed families; teenage cruelty; discussion of abortion; discussion of adoption; foul language; crude humor; postpartum depression; Stark!Reader; Lila & Reader friendship)

Pairings: Peter Parker x Female!Reader; Tony/Pepper; Happy/May; Steve/Bucky; Clint/Laura; past!Tony/Reader’s Mom

Tag List: @imaginesfire, @plutoneu

Master List

Chapter 3: How You Told Him

Perhaps lying about having a group project to finish in addition to all your usual end of semester exams had not been your greatest idea. Neglectful though he might have been in regards to double checking that your after school activities truly existed, your father did not slack off in ensuring you kept up with your studies.

Every moment that he wasn’t distracted by the impending arrival of his second child he spent with you, drilling you with Spanish flashcards, going over your physics review sheet, even quizzing you for your English test with the help of SparkNotes. He seemed to think that your good grades would convince all the other girls to like you—because what had always attracted everyone to him was his ability to solve complicated equations in his head, obviously.

His enthusiasm unfortunately prevented you from seeing Peter for the rest of the week. It was a long week, too. You didn’t dare give him the news over the phone; texting wasn’t any less risky; and every single minute that you put things off was a minute that you continued to lie to your father.

Your nausea could have been from morning sickness or guilt now, and it only got worse the longer you waited. Seven days of agony followed your purchase of that pregnancy test. Only upon the following Monday—when he was free from school for two whole weeks—did Peter arrive at the tower.

Not that that had put an end to your misery, however. Peter hadn’t come to see you. No, he’d come to run drills with the rest of the team. He had been at it all day. By four o’ clock, you could no longer feign complete disinterest in his whereabouts and left the safety of your bedroom to hunt him out yourself. No more asking FRIDAY for regular updates; that would only arouse suspicion if your dad looked at the logs.

Unfortunately, Peter was exactly where she had said he would be that last time you had asked her: the training hall. You stood outside in the attached room to watch through the one-way windows. Some exercise or another remained in full swing upon your arrival. Your dad—the flash of red and gold high at the top of the room—had quite an impressive hologram rig in use in there. Through the fake smoke and not-so-fake explosions you could also see your boyfriend in bright blue and red, using Steve’s shield to propel himself through the air.

“Is he ever going to come out of there?” you wondered aloud, just in time for a very sweaty, very rumpled Clint Barton to come through the nearby door that led to the training hall.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting,” he answered cheerfully. “That boy of yours is real dedicated.”

“I know that.”

You couldn’t entirely suppress the note of pride that crept into your voice, even if you were frustrated with Peter’s dedication at the moment. He was an amazing guy. No other boys you’d met were so devoted to serving others. Peter saved lives voluntarily, on the regular, without asking for recognition or anything else in return. That he wanted to be with you of all people—a girl with no powers or great acts of kindness to her name, only a famous father—was nothing short of a miracle…a miracle, you realized, that just might come to an end once he heard your news.

“Hey, don’t look so pensive. I’m sure he’ll be out in time for dinner. Isn’t there something else you could do while you’re waiting than sit there and watch? You know, paint your nails, braid your hair. Girl stuff.”

“Is that what Lila does in her spare time?” you asked.

Clint’s grin made clear what you already knew: He was teasing you. As you glared playfully back (as playfully as you could under the circumstances, anyway), he snatched up a thin white towel from the stack sitting on the nearby counter and dabbed at his glistening brow.

“She’s not allowed to date until she’s forty, so what’s the point? Speaking of Lila, she’s been asking about you lately.”

“She has?”

“Yeah, she wants you to come over again. She’s thinking sleepover. You interested?”

“Of course I am!”

“Great. I’ll ask your dad about it when he comes out of there. Maybe we can arrange for something this weekend.”

“Oh. I’m not so sure about this weekend.”

“Why not?” Clint frowned, slowly lowering his towel. “Already got plans with Pete?”

The truth was that you didn’t think your father would be letting you go anywhere after you came clean to him, even if anywhere was the Barton ranch. Never mind your dad’s constant dalliances (including those with your own mother), you were to be held to a higher standard. He thought you had escaped inheriting the worst of his personality. When he found out otherwise, he was going to be crushed. It wouldn’t matter that Lila lived in the middle of nowhere with no one but her parents and little brothers for company. Even if your dad did decide such a sleepover would be safe, Pepper certainly wouldn’t. Letting Clint set up said playdate would mean someone would have to call and cancel it. Then all the Bartons would find out about your not-so-little secret.

“[Name]? Earth to [Name]. You still with me?” asked Clint.

“No, I…”

Luckily, you were spared having to think of an excuse that wouldn’t make it sound like you wanted nothing to do with the one girl on the face of the planet that didn’t hate you. Just as Clint looked as though he were about to ask if you were going to throw up again and if he needed to call your dad over, the door to the training room opened a second time. In popped the boy you’d been waiting for for so long.

“Oh, hey, [Name],” Peter said as he peeled off his mask. “What are you doing here?”

All that lead up and his faint smile already had your legs turning to jelly. It was a wonder you were able to summon up enough to courage to reply, “Waiting for you. I’ve got something I want to show you upstairs.”

“Don’t you want me to clean up first? I should definitely take a shower—”

“Now.” You leaned over to grasp his hand.

He stilled and shot you a confused look. “Okay. If you say so.”

Before he could change his mind or get caught up discussing battle strategies with Clint for another three hours, you yanked Peter toward the hall leading to the elevator. He stumbled after you with a faint cry of surprise.

“Er…see you later, Mr. Barton!” he called over his shoulder.

You stopped in the doorway to look back at the man watching you both from the center of the room. “I’ll look at my calendar and find out when I can come see Lila. Promise. Dad’ll call once I work out my schedule.”

Clint nodded, brow still furrowed. The expression on his face caused a cascade of ice-like nerves to fall into your stomach. You tried to ignore the sensation and move on without attracting more attention. Soon enough, he was hidden from view by both the door that led to the observation booth and those belonging to the elevator. Your relieved sigh hissed loudly in the silence that followed.

“You okay, [Name]?” Peter asked. He shifted his hand inside yours to get a better grip.

“I’m fine,” you answered.

“You sure? I haven’t heard from you in days.”

“Dad had busy me studying. I just now found the time to breathe.”

He nodded, and said nothing more. His hand remained in yours for the duration of the trip to the tower’s highest floor. All the while, his deep brown eyes roved across your face. You tried not to show any signs of your fear in your expression, but couldn’t do anything to stop the pulse ramming through your body. Could Peter feel your heart beating that hard where your palms connected?

The elevator open up again an eternity later. At last Peter let go of you, probably because he didn’t want Pepper to catch you both wandering around like that in your private area.

He needn’t have worried. A lot of kids had rules about having members of the opposite sex in their bedrooms: hours they were allowed inside, doors that had to remain open, people that had to be informed. Not so you. For the time being, your father trusted you, and you intended to take advantage of that while you still could. After he followed you inside, you closed the door and turned to find him standing in the center of the room staring at you.

“You’re breaking up with me,” he said.

The statement drew you up short, driving all thoughts of how best to get to the subject of babies from your mind. “What? What are you talking about?” you asked.

Peter approached you slowly. His hands twisted the mask he held between them at an alarming rate. “Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize it. Please don’t do this, [Name]. Whatever I did, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Peter—”

“Was it—was it the…sex?” he lowered his voice upon that word. “I’m sorry if it was bad. It was only my first time!”

“I’m not—”

“I don’t know how I’m going to explain to Mr. Stark that I did something to get his daughter to break up with me! He’ll kick me off the team for sure!”

“I’m not breaking up with you!” you shouted.

“You’re…not?”

“No.” Although that didn’t mean your dad wouldn’t kick him off the team for what you were about to tell him. You thought it best not to lead with that, however.

“Then why are you acting so weird?” he asked.

That question was all it took. One moment, you stood in front of him trying to calm him down; the next, your own legs seemed unable to support your weight. Tears spilled over your bottom eyelids and splashed down your cheeks.

“[N-Name]?”

Before you could hit the carpeted floor, he caught you and guided you carefully over to your bed. You collapsed onto the comforter without any break in your quiet tears. If you made any noise at all, Pepper would be sure to hear and come as quickly as her pregnancy would allow. Though you knew this, you couldn’t get yourself to stop crying. Seven days’ worth of fear and guilt continued to leak from your face.

Peter just patted your shoulder for a long time. This didn’t exactly make you feel any better. You had lied to him too, not to mention you were the one that had got yourself into this mess to begin with. If you hadn’t brought up having sex to him, you doubted he would have considered it until you were both in your twenties.

Eventually, you crying did slow, and when you lifted your head, you found him holding out the Kleenex box you kept on your bedside table. You pulled out a single tissue and shoved it into your wet face.

“Thanks,” you said hoarsely, voice a little muffled.

“No problem.”

Then Peter sat down next to you. He didn’t say another word while he waited for you to pull yourself together. You felt his heels hit the mattress a few times as he kicked his legs in and out in front of him. At last he seemed unable to wait any longer.

“Something is wrong, right? You wouldn’t be crying if everything was fine,” he said.

“I…It’s fine.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Water filled your eyes again, but this time the tears were not allowed to run down your cheeks. “Because I’m pretty sure that you’re about to break up with me.”

“Never!”

“You don’t even know why I think that.”

“It doesn’t matter. I love you, [Name]. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your hand clutching the Kleenex fell into your lap. Peter’s expression was so sincere. You wanted to believe him when he said sweet things like that. How could you, though, remembering how your mother had acted when she first found out that she was pregnant with you?

Sure, your dad had accepted you, after you’d ran away from your foster home to see him, after all the DNA tests confirmed what you claimed, after the media storm began to fade a bit. But if he had known about you before—before Iron Man, before your mom died, before he won over Pepper…well, sometimes you wondered if you had revealed yourself to him then, if he would have been so accepting.

Peter wasn’t your dad. For all the similarities between the two of them, they were not cut from the same cloth. He was, however, also a superhero and a genius and a boy with a bright future ahead of him. Whether or not he was more like your father than you thought, you had to tell him. You couldn’t keep your baby a secret, not like your mother had before you.

“Peter, I’m…” You swallowed, struggling for the right words. Your tongue felt like lead inside your mouth. “I’m…I didn’t plan for it to happen. I didn’t want this. I’m sorry, but—Peter, I’m…I’m pregnant.”

He snapped to attention at once. His eyes went huge. You bit down on your heavy tongue as hard as you could to keep yourself from babbling further. It was his turn to talk now, his turn to react. A loud ringing started up in your ears in protest of your choice to remain silent.

“You…You’re sure?” Peter asked after some time passed.

You nodded.

“You took a test.”

You nodded.

“Even though we used protection?”

You nodded.

A slow breath issued from his mouth. You braced yourself for the anger that would follow—but it never did. When Peter touched you again, it was only to pull you to his chest. His chin soon found the crown of your head.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“For what? It’s my fault.”

“What do you mean, your fault?”

“I asked you to have sex with me. If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have thought of it.”

Peter’s snort shook the strands of hair beneath his nose. “That was not the first time I thought of having sex with you.”

Hesitantly, you pulled yourself away from him. A pleasant flutter soared through your veins. Hearing that should not have made you feel so pleased given present circumstances, but somehow it did. “It wasn’t?”

“No. But what are you gonna do? About the baby, I mean.”

“I haven’t really thought that far ahead. I just…needed to tell you before I did anything else.”

“And your dad doesn’t know yet?”

“No.”

“Yeah, figures.” He let out a breathy laugh. “He definitely wouldn’t have let me in the training room if he already knew.”

“I’m going to tell him, Peter. I have to.”

Without explaining to him what you meant by that, you knew he understood. You weren’t going to get rid of the baby before it was born. Even if you tried, you doubted you’d succeed in managing to do so entirely in secret. Buying a pregnancy test without detection was one thing. Getting an abortion was another. So, sure, you could just not mention the baby to your dad, but he would find out eventually—or Pepper would, or Natasha, or a teacher at school, or (you shuddered at the thought) some journalist looking for a picture to plaster on the front of their tabloid for three months straight. Leaving things to chance was just too much of a risk for everyone involved.

“I’ll have to tell May, too,” Peter said.

You scooted back onto a free place on your bed to look at him. “Can you wait? Just a little? So I can tell my dad first?”

He didn’t look thrilled by your request, and you knew why. Peter didn’t like lying to his aunt any more than you liked lying to your father. Just keeping her from finding out he was Spider-Man had been hard enough for him. That hadn’t even worked out for long either.

“It’s just,” you added quickly, “I know she’ll call my dad as soon as she finds out. I want him to hear it from me first.”

“You’re planning to tell him soon?”

“Yeah! I don’t know when, exactly, but it has to be soon. I just want to do it when the whole team isn’t—”

A sharp knock on your bedroom door had you both springing apart. Peter actually jumped across the room, all the way to where your computer desk stood, while you just managed to leap closer to your headboard.

“Come in!” you said, hoping you didn’t sound nearly as husky as before. You finished wiping your eyes with your tissue just in time for Pepper to stick her head in, too.

“Peter, you’re here also. Good,” she said as she stepped inside. The swell of her pregnancy protruded obviously from between her hips. Your baby half-sister was going to be huge, though apparently you were the only person with that train of thought just then.

Peter lifted a nervous hand in greeting. “Hey, Mrs. Stark.”

She turned her sharp eyes on him. “I told you last time you called me that that if you did that again I would kick you out of the building.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

That having been arranged, Pepper’s turned her attention to you. You sat up a little straighter. Even pregnant, she seemed to command a level of decorum you never quite felt you could achieve. She was fine as far as step-mothers went. Her first words upon being introduced to you were, “I’m not at all surprised to find out you had a kid somewhere,” and she’d gone on to marry your dad about year later anyway. Still, you always felt nervous around her normally. Coming off the heels of a crying jag over a pregnancy that would never have happened if you’d only followed her rules didn’t exactly soothe such feelings.

“I just came to ask you,” she said, and you held your breath waiting for her to say FRIDAY had been relaying your entire conversation to her, “to not schedule anything for this Friday night. You, too, Peter. I just got off the phone with May, and she and Happy will be coming over for a little pre-Christmas dinner. Isn’t that nice?”

She didn’t sound entirely convinced herself, breathless and rubbing the swell of her stomach. The look you exchanged with Peter while she was distracted was one of shared horror. Unfortunately, she was not distracted long enough to miss the look entirely.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“No!” you said in unison.

“Sounds great,” Peter added.

“Can’t wait,” you put in.

Pepper looked suspiciously from your face to his before she turned laboriously to leave. “Sorry if we ruined date night, but it’s just one dinner. And what were you two doing in here with the door closed? It really ought to be open if you’re in there together.”

As if to make her point, she did not shut the door behind her. She instead toddled off down the hall with further muttering about teenage hormones. A hysterical laugh almost burst from your chest over how close to being right she was—but this was not a laughing matter. Your eyes met Peter’s for a second time. Obviously he was thinking the exact same thing that you were: now you had a deadline, and meeting it might make everything even worse.

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yinses · 3 years

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make it a show

| gojo has been away for awhile and now he’s missed … times two |

gojo satoru/reader/geto suguru

rating: 18*

rqst: okay okay why choose between geto and gojo? why not just have both?

a/n: why not indeed.

it starts with an i miss you text.

gojo was on another long mission. his reputation often preceded him in the worst ways and popularity drew him across the country- and then some. for two weeks now he’d been in europe trying to clear out an infestation.

he still checked in when he could. sending short texts to probe about your day and shooting tourist pictures to showcase the better parts of his trips. he made sure to send different sets to suguru, giving you both the opportunity to snuggle close and share the crumbs your mutual boyfriend left behind.

its twenty minutes later, after said text, that gojo boasts about the free premium wifi upgrade that had come with his hotel reservation. and less than two minutes go by before he decides what he planned to do with that commodity.

above your head, gojo takes in the scene eagerly from the face of your phone.

“so what are you wearing?”

you make a choked sound somewhere stuck between a laugh and a moan as geto laps firmly at the dampening fabric of your panties. his fingers run along the elastic, cheekily plucking and letting it snap back against your skin with a smack.

undeterred, your other boyfriend mumbles something incomprehensible before latching onto your clit and toys with you through the fabric.

gojo’s bangs fall into his face as he huffs, electric blue eyes darkening with lust. “this isn’t just show and tell, you two. don’t ignore me.”

his whine is cute, you think as your back arches off the bed when geto adds suction to his play through. your gaze darts down when you feel a nibble to the inside of your thigh- a nudge to get those lips moving.

“i-uh… the purple one’s,” you manage. thankfully you’re still wearing them otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to properly reply.

“aw, why couldn’t you have worn the blue ones?”

because you sudden thrust this upon us, you wanted to remind him. nor were you exactly keen on dirting up a new pair just for some quick fun.

“drop your knee to the side, honey. i want to see suguru work.”

you comply, letting the limb framing geto’s head come to rest by his shoulders. it improves your view too, just catching his dark gaze before his head drops back down again. his fingers finally hook on the edge and drag the fabric down your legs and gojo whistles at the sight.

“i don’t know what’s wetter. your pussy or his lips. but i guess its a packaged deal given the circumstances.”

he’s the only one who chuckles at that, as usual.

geto adds fingers, slender limbs sliding through your slick and circle your entrance.

“if you’re going to eat her out properly, let me see too.” he directs his attention to you. “hold the phone up for me, sweetheart. at least do some of the work.”

its snarky enough that you almost don’t want to comply but then geto is pausing and you know its a command to follow. reaching behind, you grasp the device and settle the camera facing just below your navel. as the new sole source of focus, geto raises his head and gives a cheeky little grin.

gojo coos immediately at the sight,” hey, baby. fuck you look beautiful today.”

the frame of the phone obscures your vision a little but you swear you see geto blush at the compliment. how could he not. even in another country, gojo was a smooth man.

“wish i was behind you right now, making you feel as good as you’re making her.”

gojo was always good at this- the phone sex. but he exceeded the expectations whenever he was granted a visual.

“eat her out for me, yeah? fuck, i bet i could taste it.”

the audio picks up on the shifting of clothing as gojo shimminging his pants down his hips to free his cock. he keeps the camera at the perfect angle fit the slow fisting of his cock in the frame

“you’re not in charge here, satoru,” geto murmurs all while lowering his head anyway. his mouth latches back onto your throbbing heat and fits his tongue between your labia. the hands finding purchase at your hips urge you to grind down as the talented muscle flicks up. sparks of pleasure prickles your nerves and you reach around the phone to tug the band free from his bun. before the dark tresses could trickle down against you, you’re there to comb it back.

“fuck- toru .. he feels so good.”

there is a hitch to gojo’s voice, something of a light pant as he responds. “i can see him, honey. he spoils you so good.”

geto’s nose brushes your clit when you rock forward and you cry out at the unexpected friction. he pulls back enough to return his fingers to the slick of your sex, two fingers easily dipping into your core. your hand slides to the back of his skulls as his fingers adopt a rhythm.

gojo seems keen on torturing himself by edging his fingers along the sensitive head without providing the needed friction. the distorted pleasure in his voice sounds like something is caught but you know he’s just staving it off as long as he can. you wonder how flushed his face is right now, but you can’t bring yourself to interrupt geto enough to ask for an update.

“he’s going to fuck you so good, honey. bet you’re loose enough for it.” gojo swallows audibly and you can tell he’s pushed back yet another orgasm. “tell him you’re ready. … please.”

with a simpering plea like that how could you not comply.

the free hand not currently working you towards nirvana, slides up your stomach to cup the weight of your breast. unable to resist, your legs come up to squeeze around the protruding limb, shamelessly rocking against the muscle of his bicep.

“fucking hell, you’re such a dirty girl.”

you can only whine when geto flexes in response, or maybe its because of the fingers finally leaving you. the same wet fingers take the phone from you, leaving a tacky residue behind. the bed shifts as geto rises to his knees, shaking away your hold.

he’s looking at you properly now, mouth free. “i’m waiting on that begging.”

cheeks warm and lips bitten raw, you give his leg one last desperate hump, hoping eager desperation can smooth the way. “please fuck me. make gojo cum,” you add and to your satisfaction the man’s groan rumbles against your stomach.

geto leans over you to drag a free pillow closer. the phone mostly sinks into the plush fabric but he’s able to angle it in just right. from the corner of your eye you can finally see gojo, skin flushed and cock fat and leaking. his hand works in short jerks, thumb darting across the head the way he likes.

geto’s hands pry your legs apart again, but his attention is directed to the phone.” you going to hold out on us all night? this is a mutual exchange,” he teases.

your other boyfriend huffs, but his eyes greedily take in the sight of geto stripping bare. “i think i liked you better when your mouth is full.”

geto doesn’t miss a beat. “you normally do.”

he takes one of your thighs up and hooks it at his hip. geto takes you slowly, making you feel every inch and drag as he parts your folds with his cock. the burn is absent but the stretch persists as you babble. where gojo favored length, geto was graced with width. frankly they were right to call you spoiled, blessed with the best of both worlds.

“is he all the way in, princess?” gojo’s voice is strained as he asks as if he can’t see half of the cock still working its way in.

your tongue is thick and heavy but you manage, whimpers with eager hope the sounds might coax him to go faster. you could only ask, after all, geto rarely took kindly to unsolicited demands. “not yet, but i already feel so full, toru.”

“fuck yeah you do. always such a snug fit. can’t get enough of either of you.”

geto continues to ease himself deeper, confident and calculated, until the base nudges your clit. large hands caress the curve and down to your hip to squeeze the flesh. it marks the steady increase of his pace, hips drawing back nearly all the way before smacking back against you pelvis.

he wasn’t a quiet lover, but he knew when to take advantage of gojo’s presence. his shadow encompasses you as the edge of his teeth drag against your jaw. ”make it pretty for him, bunny,” he coos against the shell of your ear. “make him come home.” is emphasized by a firm thrust that rocks your entire body.

then he’s pulling back to haunches before gojo can complain about the obscured view.

your fingers grasp at the sheets when he thrusts into you at a sharper angle. the hand at your hip goes tighter as he fucks the tremble right out of you. you can still see gojo, teeth worrying his bottom lip as he matches the pace driving into you. able to catch the silent prayer in his gaze, you answer is with a broken whine.

“he’s really giving it to you ... and you’re taking it so well,” his breathing is short, heavy with his impending climax.

“he’s so deep, toru. i feel like there isn’t even room to squeeze him. geto groans when you try, hissing through his teeth as he picks up the pace. you try to maintain eye contact with the distant shaman but he’s not doing a good job either. blue eyes greedily take in everything there is to offer, darting from the jiggle of your breast to the bead of sweat forming on geto’s temple.

everyone’s tipping the edge. you can feel the palpable tension in the air on the brink of snapping.

your vision whites out the moment he starts to spurt, thick strands bringing the arc of his hips to a sloppy grind. the harsh pant against your lips is a brief warning before he swallows your tongue eagerly, groaning the remnants of his release into your mouth.

in your ear, gojo follows the sentiment, breathing heavily. you can imagine the mess he makes of himself, chest white with sticky streaks of cum. he is very much out of breath but chuckles anyway as geto pulls himself free.

“messaged received. i’ll try to get home soon.”

#gojo satoru #geto x reader #geto suguru #gojo x reader #gojo sins #geto sins #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader

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blinkpen · 5 months

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inky balloonopus

#mog art #artists on tumblr #character design #balloon animal #octopus #this one... is Supposed to go on the impending adopt sheet...#i must resist Bonding with it [puts a paper bag over it] there

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10millionyearsdungeon · 4 years

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Kinktober #1 - Praise

A/N: Sugawara hates when you tear yourself down; you’re so perfect in his eyes and can’t understand why your self-talk is so detrimental. He lifts you back up the only way he knows how...

==============================

“Look at you taking it so well…” Deft fingers spread your dripping folds wide; you could feel his hot breath fanning over your most intimate places, only sending you closer to that elusive peak. “You’re practically twitching for me, and all I’ve done is toy with you a little.”

A little…

You couldn’t help but fixate on the way his voice lilted over the words, how casually his pretty lips formed over each syllable as he coaxed those long, dexterous fingers along your glistening sex. He had only been edging you for the better part of two hours with those lithe fingers. You could barely remember where it all began. Another moan ripped through your tightly-wound body as he wrapped those lush lips around your swollen clit. Your slick walls clenched around his fingers, urging him to continue. You could have cried when he pulled away, only to stare up at you with those warm coffee eyes. Hot tears pricked your eyes as he rested his cheek on your thigh and withdrew his fingers from your quivering entrance. “No...no fair, Koushi,” you gasped. He answered with a smile that left you breathless as he stared up at your flushing face from under his pale eyelashes. “Fair? You wanna talk fair, sugar?” Sugawara adopted a tone you only heard when he was winding up to scold one of his students. You shifted uncomfortably, suddenly too hot, too exposed under his focused gaze. You knew all too well what he was referring to-- the vicious self-talk you used to tear yourself down, how harsh your own words could be when you picked yourself apart stitch by stitch. If you could melt into the sheets and evaporate on the spot you would, but Koushi held you firmly with his quiet, stern stare. Long, loving strokes along the silvered stretch marks striping your inner thigh he delivered with gentle, feather-light brushes. With a sigh, you rolled your head back onto the pillows and arched into Sugawara’s touches. “I want to hear you tell me you’re beautiful, sugar. I want you to mean it.” Your toes curled impulsively with another brush of his tender lips along the curve of your hip bones, eyes imploring you to give in to his seemingly small demand. “I’m waiting, sugar,” he purred. “Your skin is so soft, sugar. Say it.” “I...I’m…” the words faltered on your tongue. Your mind wandered back to the scars along your shins from years of stumbling and tripping through life, the stretch marks that left your hips and thighs discolored, how you couldn’t seem to shed that extra couple pounds and you felt yourself withdraw further into every tiny flaw. Sugawara sunk his teeth into your hip, skillfully wrapping his lips around the bite and sucking hard into your skin. A strong arm pinned your thrashing hips to the sheets as he continued to suck a vibrant violet bruise into your skin. “Say it,” he growled, sinking his teeth in again. “I’m beautiful!” you screamed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked harder into the deepening bruise. “I’m beautiful!!” Koushi moaned into your hip and found himself casually grinding his hardening cock along your scarred shin, laving his tongue along the love-bite he left in his wake. “That’s my gorgeous girl,” he hummed. With every inch he climbed up your trembling body he marked his territory with another sucking kiss to mar the beauty of your skin. “Say it again for me, sugar.” “I’m...I’m beautiful, Koushi,” you whimpered. You could taste yourself on his fingers as he toyed with your lower lip. He groaned at your words and lined his cock up with your heat as if he could do it asleep. With the sudden intrusion, you shuddered and dug your nails into his toned back, deceptively sturdy muscles shifting to life under your rude hold. Your hips rose to meet his, urging him deeper as he nuzzled into your ear and groaned low. “You’re stunning, sugar. Gorgeous stretched over my cock like this…Say it again.” He sunk deeper into your need, eyes meeting yours with a sweet grin. With slow, deliberate thrusts, he pulled another shuddering sigh from your body and revealed in the bounce of your breasts and the color staining your cheeks. “Let me hear your beautiful voice again, sugar. Say it, beautiful.” Clutching him to your body, he groaned low, feeling the quickening flutter of your walls tighten around his cock-- every fibre had you singing a song only he could hear. He continued to thrust you through your sudden peak, dragging his teeth along your shoulder, murmuring soft words of love and adoration. “I’m beautiful…” you huffed, moaning into his silver hair as another wave of pleasure pulled you back into his hand. You felt his lips curl into a smile as he continued to tease your skin with his teeth, every brush sending vibrations through every nerve ending to prolong your pleasure. “That’s right, sugar. And you’re so perfect cumming on my cock like this. Let me see it again. I want you to cum again for me, beautiful.” “Please, Koushi…” He stilled his hips and leaned up, looming over you like a predator before the kill with that same, slow smile sweetening his heartbreaker face. “I’ll do it...if you promise to never talk down to yourself again.” You shuddered and nodded furiously, trying in vain to pull him back into your needy body. “Please, Koushi.” He collected your hands, holding them tightly to the pillowcase as he nudged his nose along the line of your cheek. It was a gentle distraction from the sudden piston of his hips and the stretch of his cock inside your aching pussy. Close enough to feel his heart beating in his throat, you couldn’t help the impending orgasm that had you clamping down hard enough to hurt. You met your end together, Sugawara hissing and falling into you with his seed filling your waiting womb. He stayed inside, gently petting and kissing along your hairline with tender lips. “Such a beautiful voice for a beautiful woman,” he crooned. You couldn’t help but curl into the warmth of his chest when he pulled out. “You’re perfect, sugar…” he sighed, tucking your sweat-curled hair behind your ear. Glancing up at him, he grinned and poked the tip of your nose with enough affection it left you tingling in your toes. “Negativity begone, sugar.”

#Kinktober #koushi sugawara #sugawara smut #sugawara x reader #haikyuu!! smut #Kinktober in the Dungeon #hq!!#haikyuu!! kinktober #haikyuu reader #sugawara x reader smut #let's get dangerous #the smut pile #the smut pile server

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orbitguideofficial · 2 years

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Why is MBBS Abroad Is a Great Option for Indian Students?

Studying MBBS is the dream of most of the students in India. In Indian society, parents, teachers, and influential people from childhood recommend engineering or medicine to study. When two children live in the same household, there are high chances that one will become an engineer and the other a doctor—considering that studying abroad is one of the most rewarding experiences for new-age kids and parents. Studying abroad gives you a chance to be a part of the culture and customs of the country. One of the main reasons Indian expatriates learn MBBS in foreign universities is the low fee structure. There are around 10,000 Indian students who get MBBS accreditation from leading universities in 12 different countries every year. Ultimately, it is safe to pursue a Ph.D. in MCI accredited universities.

Let's talk about the NEET entrance exam. Indian students have to reach 600+ out of 720 to get MBBS admission in Indian government universities, which is challenging for medical students. In such cases, many medical students remained absent and reappeared or applied for admission to private medical schools in India the following year.

However, when it comes to the high tuition fees charged by private medical colleges in India, it is just too much for the typical Indian student. In such a situation, MBBS Abroad for Indian Students program was started to help medical students. It is also an ideal option, especially for Indian medical students, as studying MBBS abroad is a step towards your goal of becoming a successful doctor.

How To Choose the Best Foreign Nations for MBBS Abroad Study?

To pursue MBBS abroad, choosing the best foreign country for an MBBS course is the first and foremost step.

Budget:

Just as the currency varies from country to country, so too do MBBS fees. In such cases, Indian students can get an idea of the typical MBBS tuition budget in other countries. MBBS in Ukraine, MBBS in Kyrgyzstan, MBBS in China, MBBS in Kazakhstan, and many other countries offer low-cost MBBS programs.

Evaluation:

The security of a foreign country, impending war, and other factors should be examined before you decide to study MBBS. Try to choose a study abroad location for your MBBS degree with a high-security level.

weather:

Climate is another important aspect to consider before enrolling in an MBBS program outside India, as some countries are colder than India. Find a foreign country where you can adopt, even if the weather drops below freezing!

In general, MBBS students from abroad can avail various career opportunities after completing MBBS abroad to complete their studies. Medical students are also encouraged to pursue a medical career purely based on their interests.

Admission Process

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Click to know more about study MBBS Abroad, visit our website Orbit Guide.

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roman-writing · 4 years

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you search the mountain (5/6)

Fandom: World of Warcraft

Pairing: Jaina Proudmore / Sylvanas Windrunner

Rating: M

Wordcount: 21,557

Summary: The borders of Kul Tiras are closed to all outsiders. Sylvanas, Banshee Queen, hopes to use the impending civil war in Boralus to her advantage, and thereby lure Kul Tiras to the side of the Horde. A Drust AU

Content Advisory: horror, blood, gore, typical Drustvar spooky deer shit

read it below the cut, or you can read it here on AO3

On the road to Watermill Hill, it began to snow. Sylvanas could smell it before it arrived. The sky grew heavy and grey. The first flakes dusted the shoulders of the troops. They cottoned onto buff coats and helms, onto cuirasses and the curve of pauldrons. The fields were blanketed, and the boughs of trees began to sag beneath the additional weight. Slowly, the land went quiet and white, until the stamp of feet and horse's hooves faded to a shadow of itself, until the mountains to the west were utterly shrouded from sight, until not even the heavy carts pulled by teams of oxen could churn together the snow and mud, so that the world seemed pall-wrapt.

It was deep enough that it cast a strange spell over Drustvar, but not so deep that it deterred their march. The long line of troops headed ever northward. They had left behind a garrison at Barrowknoll, but only as few as they could spare. Most of the troops were all they would have for the winter ahead and the battles that awaited them. Yet even the thunderous march of an army faded beneath the weight of snow in the air and on the ground, until they walked, ghost-like, through the pale haze of the earth.

By the time they reached the river south of Fallhaven on the second day, the snow had lost all of its charm. More often than not, Sylvanas could hear the grumblings of soldiers as they pitched their tents at night. They would rub their gloved hands together and stamp their feet, cursing the temperature which lowered with every passing day.

In her opinion, it was an improvement on the constant rain. But it would not last that way for long. Soon, the snow would freeze. The icy winds would come racing down from the glacial spine of Drustvar. The horses would starve first. The living would eat them. And then the oxen. And then -- well. That was a gruesome thought. They were far from that point yet. And if Jaina were to be believed, they would not want for food.

The river between them and Fallhaven was broad and deep and brackish. It washed directly out to sea due east. Through the drift of snow, Sylvanas could make out the shape of canvas sheets. The masts of Ashvane merchant ships modified for war raked against the pale grey sky. There were five of them anchored in the river, choking any relief to Fallhaven by water. More ships still were stationed at Carver's Harbour, controlling the inlet to Fallhaven. Where once there had been a bridge on the westernmost end of the river, there now was nothing but smoke-blackened stumps poking out of the fast-flowing water. Without ships of their own, they would need to spend more time going all the way around to find a suitable fording spot west of their current position.

Had this been summer, Sylvanas might have been tempted to order a bridge to be built. But summer was a distant memory, now. The city of Fallhaven itself wasn't much of a city to begin with. Its most prominent features were its belltower commanding the city square near the river, and the squat stone walls that surrounded the city's entire perimeter. It had been built with a siege in mind, commanding the river and surrounded by rolling farmland for miles around. It was the breadbasket of Drustvar. Normally, shipments of grain would sail out to the rest of Kul Tiras from the river, but the Ashvane fleet had made quick work of that. The only ground near enough to threaten it was a rise to the northeast, which Sylvanas could just make out over the top of the city if she stood up in her stirrups and craned her neck.

"It looks so peaceful, doesn't it?" Lucille said, seated on her own horse not far off. "One could almost be fooled into thinking it wasn't under siege."

"Mmm," said Sylvanas noncommittally.

She guided her skeletal mount along the road, while Lucille rode beside her. To Sylvanas' left rode Velonara on a dark horse that looked almost exactly like Lucille's but for its white-socked legs. The three of them traveled midway along with the army, neither front and center, nor bringing up the rear. A group of Forsaken soldiers trailed after Sylvanas, whilst Kul Tiran guardsmen followed in Lucille's wake bearing the banners of House Waycrest, emblazoned with a grey falcon.

"I can remember the first time I came to Fallhaven. I was only seven," Lucille continued blithely on. "Even then, Cyril White was in charge. A Proudmoore man through and through. He had just left a position in the Navy serving under Daelin, and my mother endorsed him as Lord Mayor of Fallhaven as a show of goodwill between our two Houses." Lucille sighed, shifting her reins between her hands. "How times change."

"Hmm," Sylvanas said again.

Velonara remained completely silent. She rode with one leg swung idly over the saddle as though sitting half cross-legged. A small glass vial of varnish was balanced in the crook of her knee. In one hand she was wielding a small brush, which she dipped into the vial and then stroked along her fingernails to apply a careful coat of blood red paint. How she managed to not smear herself with the stuff while she rode a horse was a complete mystery.

"Cyril's father's family are good sturdy yeoman stock," said Lucille. "Very popular with the demographic in this area. Primarily farmers, really. He made a good move by marrying into the White family, who are the local lords -- minor cousins of mine, in fact. Though more closely related to the Greys of Katherine's family, who hail further south in Fletcher's Hollow. Both of them share the same family motto, strangely enough. ‘Freely we serve.’"

"Mmm." Sylvanas made a small gesture with her hand, a Ranger symbol to try to get Velonara's attention, but Velonara was too busy blowing on her nails to dry them.

"So, of course, being rather politically ambitious himself, Cyril gave up his father's name and decided to adopt his mother's line for the titles and prestige. Though from what I understand he was a great success in the Navy through force of character alone. Titles tend these things, of course. One never goes beyond Captain without some sort of patronage."

Ever since that night at Barrowknoll three days ago, Lucille had somehow gotten it into her head that she and Sylvanas were now close friends. This rather inconvenient liberty was only exacerbated by the fact that Katherine was cross with the whole lot of them, after discovering that both Lucille and Sylvanas had known about Jaina’s true identity without telling her. Where once Lucille would have ridden at Katherine’s side, now she haunted either Sylvanas or Jaina’s footsteps. After three days of unending lectures about Drustvar’s political families and constitutional climates, Sylvanas was just about ready to jump into the river.

“Velonara,” Sylvanas turned to her Ranger. “Didn’t you say something about how the High Thornspeaker wished to speak with the Lord Admiral and Lady Waycrest?”

“Oh?” Lucille glanced over her shoulder, looking for Katherine. She had a sudden anxious air about her at the thought.

Sylvanas nodded. “Yes. I distinctly remember it. I believe it had something to do with changes to land laws and ownership structures after the war.”

That certainly got Lucille’s attention. For all her nerves where the Lord Admiral was concerned, her expression hardened somewhat. She began tugging at the reins of her horse. “That sounds like it requires my attention. Excuse me. I will be back shortly.”

Sylvanas waited until Lucille had ridden off, before she rounded on Velonara with a glare. “Why didn’t you save me?”

Velonara pretended not to have heard, and continued painstakingly painting her nails.

“You are heartless,” Sylvanas accused in a complete deadpan tone.

“Consider this your just reward, my Queen,” Velonara countered. She lifted her hand in front of her face to inspect her work, then lowered it back down to her thigh for another coat. “Now you know what I’ve had to deal with ever since you assigned me to watch her.”

“I have learned the error of my ways. Have pity on me.”

“Give it a few more days. She hasn’t even told you about her deepest darkest fears yet.”

“Which are?”

“Being killed by her mother and raised to serve her in undeath. Which, I’ve been told, was a real threat at one point in time.”

“My my,” Sylvanas murmured, looking over her shoulder after Lucille. “It seems we have more in common with our dear Lady Waycrest than previously thought. What a horrifying concept.”

Fortunately for them, Sylvanas had not been lying when she’d said that Jaina wanted to speak with Katherine and Lucille about land reforms. Lucille did not return for hours. As the army marched past the burned bridge, Sylvanas made a disgruntled noise.

“This will add another three days to our trip,” she said. “What a nuisance.”

Velonara had long since finished her nails, and was now looking utterly bored. “Don’t worry, my Queen. That just means there’s more time for Lady Waycrest to kindly regale us with local history. She’s a wonderfully thoughtful hostess like that.”

Sylvanas groaned.

It was a long march around the river. Fallhaven faded into the distance, obscured by snow, until only the mountains to the west loomed. Sylvanas managed to elude Lucille for most of the day, slipping away when the army made camp to her own tent and staying there as night fell. The Forsaken kept the night watch, allowing the living to sleep.

Sylvanas herself worked through to the morning. She did not bother with amenities in her tent apart from a foldable desk and a few chairs. She needed nothing else. When dawn began to inch over the horizon, grey and flecked with the promise of more snow, Nathanos entered her tent with a parcel of missives. Without comment, he crossed the space and handed them over. She took them, leaning back in her chair to begin perusing the latest reports.

“Anything good?” she asked as she ran her thumb beneath the seal of a letter from Orgrimmar to break the red wax.

“Second from the top,” Nathanos answered.

She set the unread letter from Orgrimmar aside and turned over a small bit of folded up parchment. Unfurling the page, her eyes scanned the few lines hastily scrawled onto the note. With every sentence her eyebrows crept higher up her brow, and she sat a little straighter until she was resting her elbows upon the desk, reading avidly.

“Well, well.” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she set down the piece of parchment. “I must admit. I am impressed. Who would have thought our new Zandalari friends would be so efficient?”

“I believe their Princess is rather keen to make an impression,” said Nathanos.

“And she has succeeded.”

Sylvanas tapped her finger against the parchment thoughtfully. The ships from Zandalar would be arriving at Fallhaven almost a week early. She laughed softly. “They might just beat us there, you know.”

“You always did prefer arriving to events fashionably late.”

A shadowy chuckle escaped her at that. “And they’re sure they weren’t spotted by Stormsong’s insurgents?”

Nathanos nodded firmly. “Indeed. They are small force. Only five ships. And I understand they have a talented young shaman aboard one of them, who was able to shroud them in a fog as they sailed up the Sounds.”

“I hope you have more good news for me,” she said, picking up the next letter.

Clearing his throat delicately, Nathanos gave a slight shake of his head.

“Go on,” she ordered.

“As of last night the Ashvane forces have begun their assault of Watermill Hill.”

With a grunt, Sylvanas broke the seal of the next letter and began to unfold the parchment. Her eyes were already scanning the page. “As was expected,” she murmured. “I am amazed they did not begin sooner. I would have taken it a month ago.”

“Not everyone has the resources or expertise you do, my Queen.”

“That much is clear.” She glanced at him over the top of the page. “Anything else?”

Nathanos shook his head. “No. Nothing of much interest. The usual. Trade deals. A Mak’gora was called in Orgrimmar to settle a border dispute between two parties.”

“Anyone whose death would be inconvenient for me?”

“No.”

“Good.” Sylvanas waved a dismissive hand at him, and with a bow he left.

The next few days passed without further incident. The army crossed the river at last, taking care not to freeze on the way, and marched back east towards Fallhaven until the city crept over the hills. The morning before they were set to arrive at Watermill Hill, both Anya and Nathanos entered Sylvanas’ tent this time, their expressions harried.

Sylvanas had her feet propped up on a corner of the desk. A light dusting of snow on Anya and Nathanos’ shoulders told her that it was already snowing again outside. Or perhaps it had never stopped, snow drifting lazily down straight through the night. She arched an eyebrow at the sight of them and said, “It is rare for the two of you to grace me with your company at the same time these days. Which means something’s wrong.”

“A new ship has arrived in Fallhaven’s river harbour,” Anya said.

Sylvanas waved her away. “That will be one of our Zandalari sloops scouting ahead of the others, I imagine.”

“No,” Anya said firmly, undeterred. “It is a Kul Tiran ship. Far bigger than a sloop. You would recognise it yourself, in fact.”

Scoffing, Sylvanas said, “I highly doubt that. You know I can’t spot the difference between naval vessels, Anya.”

“You would remember this one, my Queen,” Nathanos said darkly. “We saw its ceremonial launch ourselves on the docks of Boralus.”

Sylvanas froze. Slowly, she lowered her feet to the ground. “Lady Ashvane’s ship is here? Right now?”

“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you, yes.”

Straightening in her seat, Sylvanas looked down at the detailed map of Fallhaven, all her copious scribbled notes of Windmill Hill, and the open ledger filled with rows and rows of supplies and troops and costs. Then abruptly she pushed back from the table and rose to her feet. “Have you seen Jaina this morning?” she asked Nathanos.

He shook his head. “Still in her tent, as far as I know. Unless she took a portal from the tent itself. I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Somehow Sylvanas could not imagine Jaina fleeing from a battle. Especially not one like this. Jaina had not shied from battle at Barrowknoll, and Windmill Hill was supposed to be a skirmish. If Lady Ashvane’s ship was here though, that might have just changed.

"Nathanos, find out exactly who is aboard that flagship," Sylvanas ordered, already ducking from her tent and striding in the direction of Jaina's tent with hasty steps.

"Using what?" Nathanos asked.

"Your imagination, preferably," Sylvanas drawled. She did not slow down or look over her shoulder as she spoke. "Bribe someone. Kill someone. Impersonate someone. I don't care. Just get me eyes on that flagship."

When Nathanos and Anya started trailing after her, she gestured for them to be elsewhere. Nathanos frowned and Anya huffed, but they both did as they were told. He veered off, already heading towards the river. Sylvanas paid them no heed.

There was no raven or sabre cat guarding Jaina’s tent. Sylvanas looked around for any sign of Arthur or Adalyn, but neither were to be seen. Slowly, she approached the tent’s entrance. Her fingers parted the heavy canvas flap, and she peered in. There was motion and darkness, but she could hear nothing within. The cloying taste of magic settled in the back of Sylvanas’ mouth, but it always tended to do that whenever Jaina was nearby. Dim lamplight did little to illuminate the tent’s interior, where outside the glare of the morning sun dazzled against the snow. Sylvanas squinted, but the contrast made spots appear in her sensitive vision.

“You might as well come in,” Jaina’s voice said, sounding exasperated. “You’re letting out all the warm air.”

Stomping her boots free of snow first, Sylvanas ducked beneath the tent flap and entered. It was indeed far warmer inside than out, though she could see no brazier. A rune had been scorched into the ground at the centre of the tent, glowing faintly. Whether that was the source of heat, or simply a ward against prying ears, she did not know.

Most of Jaina’s personal things had been packed up into a traveling trunk at the foot of her foldable cot. The bedding had been rolled up, revealing the wooden cot frame. Jaina herself was bent almost double on the far side of the tent. She stood peering into a tiny scratched mirror that was propped against a nightstand and a few books. Sylvanas blinked in surprise. In lieu of her usual druidic robes, Jaina was wearing dark high-waisted breeches and white stockings tucked in at the knee. Her boots were gone, and instead she wore shiny black shoes with gold buckles. A greatcoat and waistcoat were slung over a chair, leaving her in nothing else but her shirtsleeves and suspenders. The skull mask and staff were nowhere in sight.

She did not turn around when Sylvanas entered the tent. Instead, she continued to fiddle with a long strip of white cloth, which she was trying to wind around her neck to form a cravat. When the cravat refused to cooperate, she straightened slightly and swore vehemently under her breath, “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Ears quirked at a curious angle, Sylvanas wandered across the tent until she stood behind her. “I assume there’s a reason why you’re wearing this instead of your usual robes?”

Grumbling, Jaina undid the messy cravat knot with jerky impatient movements. “It is part of the plan. My mother thinks I ought to be seen wearing the uniform instead of -- well, you know.”

“The horrible deer skull, and some leaves you found on the forest floor?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Jaina started tugging up the stiff collar of her shirt once more, trying to get it to stay in the right position so she could try tying the cravat again. Impatiently, Sylvanas watched her struggle and fail to wrap the cloth around her neck properly, before she finally interrupted. “Do you need some help?”

“No.”

Sylvanas lifted an incredulous eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

With a sigh, Jaina fully straightened and turned away from the mirror. “No,” she said again, this time holding out the fabric with a defeated expression.

Eyes fixed on Jaina’s face, Sylvanas slowly reached out for the cravat. When Jaina had been angled away from her, she had not been able to get a good look at her. Now it was apparent that the clothing wasn’t the only thing to have changed. She had never seen Jaina wearing cosmetics before. They had been tastefully applied. Kohl lining her eyes, and rouge darkening her lips to a sinful shade of red.

Smoothing out the length of silk between her hands, Sylvanas said, “You could have just asked your mother for help. I’m sure the Lord Admiral has worn enough cravats in her lifetime to know how to tie one.”

Jaina’s brow furrowed in a thunderous scowl. “I would rather eat a rusty old horseshoe.”

With a snort, Sylvanas said, “Lucille could have shown you, then.”

Jaina shifted her feet and her cheeks were tinged slightly pink with embarrassment. Finally she admitted sheepishly, “I thought I could figure it out on my own. I mean, how hard can it be?”

Giving her a pointed look, Sylvanas held up the long narrow length of silk and said, “Lean down for me.”

Jaina did so without question, and Sylvanas began to wrap the cravat around her neck. She had to reach around Jaina, rising up onto her toes to be able to do so.

“Why are you so tall?” Sylvanas grumbled under her breath as she moved Jaina’s braid out of the way.

“I think a better question is: how do you know how to tie a cravat?”

“I thought the answer to that was obvious.” Now that the ends of the cravat were doubly wrapped back around Jaina’s throat and hung down her chest, Sylvanas was able to sink back down to the flat of her feet to finish the job. She tugged lightly at the ends of the cravat to tighten it, and quipped, “All elves are snobs and slaves to fashion.”

Jaina laughed softly. The corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled. She kept her head slightly bowed while Sylvanas straightened the upturned collar beneath the wide strip of fabric. “That makes sense,” Jaina said with faux solemnity. “Though I do wonder what that says about all the skulls and spikes you wear.”

Sylvanas clucked her tongue in admonishment. “Skulls and spikes are all the rage in the major cities these days. Very chic. I wouldn’t expect a human from a backwater like Kul Tiras to understand.”

“Of course. My mistake.”

Sylvanas was far too concerned with the dimple that appeared when Jaina’s smile broadened. Her hands slowed in tying the cravat, and her fingers lingered against the warm skin of Jaina’s pulsepoint. The rope scar was a raised band of tissue looped around Jaina’s neck. Sylvanas pulled the cravat material a little higher to hide it from view.

Jaina noticed. Her eyes flickered down to where Sylvanas’ hands rested beneath her chin, then up again to her face. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Sylvanas’ only answer was a hum. That heartbeat quickened, fluttering like a bird’s wings under her thumb. Jaina was watching her very closely, as though waiting for Sylvanas to speak. The air felt far too warm for a Kul Tiran winter.

Sylvanas bid her hands move again. Her fingers made quick work of the last knot. She took an extra few seconds to pull the knot a little tighter before lowering her hands. That seemed to break whatever spell had settled over them. The air did not feel quite so heavy when Sylvanas was no longer touching her.

“I should really learn how to do this myself someday,” Jaina sighed, tugging at the knot so that it was arranged just so beneath her neck and loosening it in the process. “Since apparently I’m going to be wearing this outfit quite a lot.”

“I would offer some instruction, but I am a terrible teacher. Never had the disposition for it.”

“Too used to giving orders instead?”

“Something like that, yes.” She swatted Jaina’s hand away, and scolded her softly, “Stop that.”

Jaina huffed in annoyance, but lowered her hands and allowed Sylvanas to fix the cravat and tighten it again. When Sylvanas stepped away, she reached for the waistcoat slung over a chair and handed it over. Jaina took it with a murmur of thanks, shrugging into it. Sylvanas had to tamp down the urge to move forward again and do up the row of small dark buttons. Instead, she clasped her hands firmly behind her back, watching Jaina button up the waistcoat and tuck the ends of the cravat away.

Swinging the Admiralty greatcoat over her shoulders, Jaina next fixed a green sash into place before fussing with the wide sleeves of her coat. She tugged at them, rolling her broad shoulders beneath the fabric and muttering curses to herself about how it inhibited her movement. In this outfit, she looked uncomfortable. She also -- Sylvanas had to admit silently -- looked incredibly good. It was a far cry from her usual druidic rags. Instead, she appeared sleek and polished. Perhaps it was the unprecedented kohl lining her eyes. Perhaps it was the red lipstick that made her mouth appear brighter and more alive. Or perhaps Sylvanas really was just staring, now.

Jaina glanced up with a worried frown. "Do I have something on my face?" she asked, and ducked her head to gaze at herself in the tiny mirror again. "I thought I'd done the makeup all right? I'm not very good at this. I think this eye is uneven. Does it look uneven to you?"

"No," Sylvanas said. "You look fine."

Still, Jaina took a finger and carefully tried to correct the dark kohl around her blind eye. She swore to herself again. "This would be a lot easier if I could see properly."

"If I tell you that you look very striking, will that convince you?"

Jaina straightened and turned. "That depends," she said. "Are you being honest? Or just kind?"

"When have you ever known me to do something purely out of kindness?"

"That's a fair point."

"You look very striking," Sylvanas said, more firmly this time. "Apart from all the lint on your back."

Eyes widening, Jaina tried to peer over her own shoulder. "What? Where?"

"I am joking. Your outfit is faultless."

Jaina glowered. “You are an ass.”

“So I’ve been told,” Sylvanas drawled. “And stop fiddling with the cravat. You’ll make it come undone.”

Jaina continued her fidgeting with the fabric wound tight around her neck. “It’s suffocating. I don’t like it.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” Sylvanas broke off her next sarcastic remark. Her ears twitched, hearing approaching footsteps outside, and then a hand pushing aside the tent flap.

"Am I interrupting something?" Katherine asked, her voice cool.

Immediately, the warmth in Jaina's gaze vanished, as though poured out onto the ground. She glanced over Sylvanas' shoulder at her mother, then turned back towards the mirror to straighten her lapels. "Nothing at all," Jaina said. "What do you need?"

Sylvanas was not bothered by cold weather -- apart from the unpleasant wet -- but it was very chilly in the tent all of a sudden. She took a step towards the tent entrance and murmured, "Excuse me. I will go and come back in just a -"

"No. Stay," Jaina said. Then she added a little more softly, "Please."

She was caught. She could make some excuse to leave, but Jaina shot her an imploring look. And it was probably better if both Katherine and Jaina received the news. So with a sigh, Sylvanas stayed put.

For a brief moment, Katherine hesitated at the entrance to the tent, before ducking beneath the flap and stepping fully inside. The bright morning light dimmed when the flap swung back down, enclosing them all in the tent. Katherine's pale gaze took inventory of Jaina's appearance, roving over the golden bands of rank at the sleeves of the greatcoat, and the shining tasselled epaulettes. Finally, she said, "I'm glad to see it fits well. Sylvanas is right. You look very good."

Jaina's reflection in the little mirror frowned, and she turned around to face her mother fully. "I sense a 'but' coming."

"But -" said Katherine gamely. "You are missing a few things. May I?”

Reaching into her pocket, Katherine pulled out what appeared to be braided cords made of thick gold threads. It took Sylvanas a moment to recognise them for what they were. Aiguillettes did not feature often in elven military uniforms, if at all. They were a uniquely human trimming.

Jaina hesitated, then gave a stiff nod of consent. Katherine limped closer, but paused when she stood before her daughter. She looked between the aiguillettes and her cane. Silently, Sylvanas reached out a hand.

“Thank you,” Katherine said, giving the cane to her.

The chased silver falcon’s head retained traces of the warmth of Katherine’s hand. Sylvanas placed the tip of the cane onto the floor and leaned her weight upon it while she watched. Katherine worked quickly and efficiently, tying the complex braiding into place so that it hung from one of Jaina’s shoulders and was pinned with a silver anchor fastener right over the green sash. Jaina was absolutely still throughout the entire affair. She looked like a statue made flesh. A figure of Kul Tiran myth carved for public appreciation.

Katherine stroked her thumb over the pin. "This belonged to your father," she said, then stepped back. "I thought you should have it."

Something darkened across Jaina's face, then was gone again, like a cloud passing between the earth and the sun. "How thoughtful of you," she said, though she sounded less than thrilled at the idea.

"Yes. Well." Katherine cleared her throat as though trying to clear the chilliness in the air. "More importantly, other people will remember it as such."

Jaina’s expression soured. "Of course, they will."

"I mean this as a favour."

"I'm sure you did."

"Enough with the act, my dear. We are all very tired of it."

"Act? What act?" Jaina smiled thinly. "This is very real."

To that Katherine had no reply. She and Jaina seemed to be having some sort of silent conversation featuring nothing but hard glares and unyielding stubbornness. Eventually however, Katherine relented with a sigh and held out a hand for her cane. Sylvanas gladly took this as a sign that the awkward moment was over, and handed it back to her.

"Now, if only you walked like you didn't have a stick up your ass, you might be a bit more convincing in that outfit," Katherine said.

Sylvanas had to bite back a snort of laughter. Jaina fumed quietly, and gave her a warning look.

"She has a point, though," Sylvanas said in her own defense.

"You try wearing this stupid outfit," Jaina growled. She was tugging hard at the cravat again. "I feel like I'm hog-tied and on my way to be butchered at market."

It finally dawned on Sylvanas, then. Why Jaina was so preoccupied with the cravat. Why she did not like having things tied tightly around her neck. How foolish of her to have not noticed before. Especially since she had just been touching the very scars on Jaina’s throat not a few minutes ago.

It was one thing to hide the scars with a bit of loose fabric. It was quite another to emulate their making.

Katherine sniffed. “You’re being overly dramatic. As always.”

Sylvanas’ coal-bright eyes darted to Katherine, then to Jaina. Neither of them were paying her any attention. They were too preoccupied with one another's presence, like two wild cats meeting in a dark alleyway. Not for the first time, Sylvanas wondered what exactly had transpired back at the Church in Barrowknoll. The two must have discussed a great deal of things, but that had clearly not included a full reveal of exactly how Jaina came to be in the position of High Thornspeaker.

“I have worn my fair share of uncomfortable military outfits,” Sylvanas said before Jaina could fire back a retort at her mother. She carefully kept her tone smooth and light. “You get used to them. Eventually.”

For a brief moment it seemed Jaina was still inclined to a fight, but she lowered her hand and left the cravat alone. “Yes,” she said, sounding tired now. “Yes, you’re right.” Then she shot Sylvanas a puzzled look. “Why did you come here, anyway?”

“I received news from one of my Rangers,” Sylvanas said delicately.

“Good news, I should hope,” Katherine said.

“That remains to be seen.” Hands clasped firmly behind her back, Sylvanas announced, “As of early this morning, Lady Ashvane’s flagship has arrived in the harbour.”

That certainly got their attention. They both glanced at her sharply, their movements and expressions terrifyingly identical.

“The LAS Integrity?” Katherine asked as though she had misheard. “Here?”

“Is it really a Lord Admiral’s Ship if she’s rebelling against the Admiralty? And with that kind of name?” Jaina asked.

“Yes, we all appreciate the irony of the situation. Thank you, my dear,” Katherine said, her tone bordering on waspish. Then she said to Sylvanas, “Do we know if Priscilla is aboard the ship?”

Sylvanas shrugged. “I cannot say for sure. But I intend to find out.”

“She is,” said Jaina.

Both Sylvanas and Katherine blinked and turned to look at her.

“How do you know?” Katherine asked.

“Did one of your druids fly over it already?” said Sylvanas.

But Jaina only shook her head. She reached over to the chair, where a pair of white gloves were neatly folded. One after the other she began to tug them into place, the last of her ensemble until she appeared every inch the Lord Admiral’s Heir. “No,” she said, pushing the finely stitched quirks more firmly between the webbing of her fingers. “I just know.”

Katherine shot Sylvanas an exasperated glance, as though seeking some sort of solidarity. Sylvanas offered none, keeping her gaze fixed on Jaina.

“Vagueness helps nobody,” Katherine said. “Especially not in times of war.”

Jaina’s only answer was a shrug. Garbed now in the full military dress of the Navy, she strode past them both and pushed open the flap of the tent. “Shall we begin the march? I want to reach Watermill Hill as soon as possible. I have a good feeling about today.”

“Again with the vagueness,” Katherine sighed, though she followed her daughter out without further question.

Once outside, Sylvanas took her leave, making her way towards the cavalry and reserve units. Katherine and Jaina did not speculate on her absence. They had already discussed the plan the night before. They swept off in one direction already calling for their horses, and the march began anew.

When Watermill Hill came into sight, Sylvanas perked up a bit in her stirrups for a better look. It was one thing to hear about something in reports, and quite another to see it in person. Where she had expected a meagre fortification, there stood a small castle in its stead atop a hill overlooking Fallhaven and commanding the surrounding terrain. The eponymous watermill was stationed with a small village nestled between the hill and the river.

More importantly however was the Ashvane army attacking it. A large force was assailing the southwest gatehouse, trying to seize entry to the west bailey. From this distance Sylvanas could see the occasional tuft of gunpowder from either side, as they returned fire on one another. Hayles and his men had already run down a number of Ashvane scouting groups on their approach to Watermill Hill, but they could not catch all of them. The ascent to Watermill Hill was a narrow road that sloped up to the main gate. All around the rest of the hill, the earth was too steep to assail without building further groundworks. The Ashvanes had funneled themselves onto this road to assault the castle. By the time the combined forces arrived to pin their quarry against the castle, the Ashvanes had raised the call of harried trumpets and were attempting to reposition themselves. It was all far too late. In a matter of moments they would be surrounded and trapped like prey in a snare.

Had Sylvanas been alive, she would have felt the hunter’s itch under her skin. As it was, she tamped down the urge to kick her skeletal steed to a faster pace and shout commands for double time. Strictly speaking, this was not her fight. Jaina was supposed to be leading the charge. And indeed, Jaina, Katherine and Lucille were all riding at the fore of the main body in order to make a symbolic statement with their presence. Which left Sylvanas restlessly commanding the left flank and bringing up the rear of the procession.

Seated high atop her horse, she frowned over the ranks, her gaze roving in search of a particular cluster of officers. From this position she could barely make out Jaina in her stiff Admiralty greatcoat. Sylvanas saw her white-gloved hands make a sharp gesture, the motion followed by the blaring of a horn. Immediately, the troops increased their pace, the stamp of their feet like a thunderous heartbeat through the snowy fields.

“Finally,” Sylvanas grumbled under her breath.

Beside her, Hayles glanced up from his conversation with Anya. “Something wrong, my Lady?”

Sylvanas answered with an irritable wave. “Your future Lord Admiral is rather slow on the uptake.”

He shot her a puzzled look beneath his helm, but made no further remark. Meanwhile, Anya’s ears tilted at a curious angle and she said, “I’m not so sure about that, my Queen. Two minutes too slow isn’t bad for someone without a few centuries of experience under her belt.”

“A lot can happen in two minutes,” Sylvanas said with a warning slant of her own ears that Anya would understand but which would have left Hayles even more bemused.

Anya bowed in her saddle and murmured, “Of course.” Her words and tone were deferential, but everything else was mocking.

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes. “Anya, take a scouting party and bring me back the latest report on the walls,” she ordered.

With another low bow, Anya did as commanded, leaving Hayles riding in uncomfortable silence at Sylvanas’ side. He made no attempt at small talk, which she appreciated. Nor did any of the other officers trailing in her wake, awaiting their commands. She craned her neck back to look up, spying a raven wheeling slowly overhead, its broad black wings a spot of black against a backdrop of white. A few minutes later, Arthur flapped down through the gentle sprinkling of snow, landing atop the bony neck of Sylvanas’ horse.

“They’ve engaged the Ashvanes just now,” he reported, shuffling a bit on the exposed vertebrae in an attempt to find better purchase with his talons.

Sylvanas nodded. “Good. And the Ashvane guns?”

“Still pointing to the castle. They couldn’t turn them around in time.”

“You and your men are to be commended, Hayles,” Sylvanas said without looking in his direction. “The scouts you ran down could not give away our advance.”

He shifted his weight in the saddle and knuckled his forehead beneath the flat brim of his helmet almost bashfully. Ever since their encounter with Captain Ashvane last week, when Sylvanas had lost her temper, he had been remarkably more docile when she presumed to give orders.

Some time later, Anya’s horse loped easily towards them. She pulled back on the reins, slowing to a trot, and then finally a stop before them. Her horse’s dark coat was spotted with snow. When it snorted and shook its head, small plumes of white steam trailed from its nostrils.

“Anything?” Sylvanas asked.

But Anya shook her head even as she reached forward to pat her horse on its neck. “Nothing yet.”

With a resigned sigh, Sylvanas leaned back in her saddle. “Then, we continue to wait.”

Whereas Hayles and the others seemed perfectly content to do so, Sylvanas did not share in their leisure. They formed a separate little group a few paces away from her. Anya chatted easily with the others, joking about her latest conquests over cards the night previous with the group of officers. Sylvanas ignored them, keeping her eye upon the main body of their forces, watching the toil of a fight beginning. She did not begrudge Anya’s ease with the others. Far from it. Her orders had been for Anya to endear herself with the locals, to make herself a crux of information. And judging by the way a number of the officers laughed at one of Anya’s crude jokes, she was doing an excellent job of it.

“Not like that,” Sylvanas muttered to herself as she watched Jaina’s movements from a distance. She made a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat and tightened her grip upon the reins.

Arthur was preening himself, still perched on the neck of her horse. “Did Jaina do something wrong?”

Mouth pursed to a thin line, Sylvanas shook her head. Jaina hadn’t done anything wrong. It just wasn’t exactly how Sylvanas would do it. She was not suited for sitting in the wings and watching. The last time Sylvanas had done this had been when her mother was Ranger General and given her young daughter a colonel’s command as a learning experience.

The snow was deepening. As the afternoon dragged on, flurries of white drifted from the sky like flour through a sieve. Hayles’ cavalry and the infantry battalion of the left flank stamped their feet in an attempt to warm them. The soldiers huddled as close together as they dared without breaking ranks. Sargents rustled along the lines, keeping calm and order while they waited and watched the main force continue to fight. At least Sylvanas wasn’t alone in her restlessness.

In the distance a rallying cry went up along the Ashvane ranks. Sylvanas straightened in her saddle, and she could hear Anya and the others do the same. She opened her mouth to give a command, but stopped and frowned in confusion. Rather than begin pushing against where Jaina’s combined troops had pinned them against the castle, the Ashvane’s right flank surged forward towards the eastern walls.

Rounding on Anya, Sylvanas snapped, "Get me vision on that area.”

Anya tugged at the reins of her horse, but before she could urge her mount forward, Arthur said, "I got it! It'll be faster if I fly over."

With a flap of his wings, he flew off into the air. Sylvanas kept an eye on him for as long as she could, but he was soon lost through the veil of snowfall. Various other reports from scouting groups trickled in while she waited for his return, officers in drab Forsaken uniforms giving detailed accounts of the front lines’ actions.

By the time Arthur returned, she had set her horse to pacing, her crimson gaze trying to pierce through the snow. The sunlight filtering through the clouds reflected across the blanketed ground. She had to blink away the blinding glare. She did not want to think of what this would be like if she had still been alive and her oversensitive eyesight had been exposed to the glare.

Arthur landed on her shoulder. "There's some Fallhaven soldiers caught outside the westernmost walls," he said. "They're fighting with the Ashvanes over a little door in the walls."

Sylvanas' eyes widened. "A sally port?"

In reply Arthur shrugged his wings.

Swearing under her breath, Sylvanas yanked on the reins. Her skeletal horse bounded forward. Snow was cast about by every heavy fall of its hooves. “All troops march to the western walls! Double time! I want us there post-haste!”

The group of officers went scurrying about in her wake. Flags were raised, standards waving signals to relay orders to the regiment, as well as to alert their allies of their actions.

“How many did you see?” Sylvanas asked.

“A few thousand Ashvanes?” Arthur said uncertainly. “Far less Fallhaven soldiers, that’s for sure.”

Hayles was urging his horse to catch up to her.

“Screen our left flank!” Sylvanas said to him. “And if the enemy try to run, chase them down!”

“Yes, my Lady.” And with a salute, he began shouting orders to round up his men.

She only pulled back on the reins and sat firmly in her saddle to stop her horse when she had reached the foremost ranks of Forsaken infantry. Anya shadowed her movements rather than stay with the cavalry; her bow was already drawn, expression wary as though expecting an attack on her queen at any moment despite the fact that the enemy was still a good distance away. For their part the Forsaken infantry seemed emboldened by Sylvanas’ presence. Their ranks bristled like a wall of spears and axes and ranks of muskets six deep.

As they advanced, a few junior officers kept sending daunted glances in her direction. It seemed to get even worse when the cluster of higher ranking officers found her again and gathered to her side, waiting for any other orders she might give.

When they drew closer to the enemy, a cavalry company broke away from the Ashvane flank. They rode forward, skirting around the hill further west. Already Sylvanas could see Hayles riding out to meet them, screening their flank and keeping the Ashvane cavalry at bay, allowing them to advance. Pistols fired, their shots muted across the snow and distance so that they sounded less like a volley and more like the patter of rain. Meanwhile the Ashvane infantry were caught. Most of them had turned to face the attack, but Sylvanas could still see skirmishing near the walls just behind them.

Ahead of her, the first line of Forsaken infantry dropped to their stomachs, the second kneeling behind them, and the third remaining standing. All three aimed down the sights of their muskets, awaiting the command to fire. Officers roared out the order, and gunsmoke tinged the air a dirty grey. The three ranks shuffled back as quickly as possible, while the three behind them stepped forward to do the same.

Slowly they advanced up the hill towards the enemy position, exchanging fire. If the Ashvanes had been better equipped and had a larger force, they might have been able to stave off the attack until they could retreat back to the safety of their main lines. But whatever they sought at the sally port was too valuable to give up so easily. They held their ground even as the Forsaken crept ever closer, close enough that the rows of pikemen could step forward and stab at one another. Blood sprayed across the snowy hillside. The Ashvanes’ red coats hid most of the gore, while the Forsaken bled black and sluggish.

For every Undead that fell -- pinned by spears, or chopped at with axes, or shot -- three more Ashvanes fell before them. From her position near the front ranks, Sylvanas could see the fear on their faces as they realised exactly what kind of enemy they were facing. She heard panicked cries go up -- some nonsense about Drust ghouls -- and the enemy line began to falter. A musket ball went spinning past her, near enough that she could hear it whistle through the air, but she did not flinch. She could hear Arthur give a great squawk of protest and launch himself into the air with a hurried flap of wings.

Well, if the Kul Tirans were squeamish about the Undead, she ought to give them a show to remember.

Kicking her horse forward and pulling her bow from her back, Sylvanas barked orders at the group of officers behind her. “Push forward! Drive them against the walls! And make it look rabid! The rest of you, with me!”

A few of the humans appeared puzzled at these commands, but the Forsaken officers’ eyes glowed a keen and sickly gold. The orders swept quickly through the ranks, and the fighting reached frenzied heights. With a company of soldiers at her back, Sylvanas leapt from her horse and strode to the right flank to cut off the enemy’s route back to the west bailey, leaving only one retreat. Every arrow she fired into the enemy’s flank shrieked as it soared through the air, streaking with veins of black energy. When they struck into the sensitive exposed flesh of a neck or shoulder, tendrils of dark necrotic magic would lash along their bodies so that they fell, twitching and bloated as though they had been drowned in a fetid lake.

It did not take long for the Ashvane line to break. They were outnumbered and pinned against the castle walls on a steep slope. Soon, they were routed and scrambling down the hill towards the snowy western fields, where Hayles and his cavalry would chase them down. Sylvanas fired a few shots after them, her arrows arcing through the air and finding their targets with deadly accuracy. Red-coated soldiers stumbled to their knees, choking on blood and falling into the bank of snow.

“Anya, get your horse and join Captain Hayles. Take Arthur with you. He can help track down anyone who runs,” Sylvanas said. She did not need to look over her shoulder to know that Anya had been beside her through the thick of the fight, ensuring her safety. “If the Ashvanes even think about regrouping, kill them.”

With a silent bow, Anya darted off through the snow in search of her horse near the base of the hill. Overhead a black speck in the sky soared after her. Sylvanas shouldered her bow and turned back towards the castle. Her soldiers had surrounded a group of grey-coated Fallhaven troops near the sally port while the Ashvanes fled. Her ears twitched when she heard raised human voices. Frowning, she rose up on her toes to see over the warren of tall Forsaken soldiers, but could only catch glimpses of steel and snow and grey stone walls.

Rows of undead soldiers parted before her like a wave, making way for their Dark Lady as she walked towards the ruckus. A cohort of Fallhaven infantrymen held their rows of pikes at the ready, aiming down the sights of their muskets, ready to fire should any of the undead get too close. They were gathered round what appeared to be their leader, a greying man with a bushy mutton-chop beard and fierce pale eyes, who had one hand clenched around the handle of a gilded silver pistol and the other around the hilt of a fine sword.

“Get that bloody door open, already!” he roared over his shoulder. His cocked hat was silver-trimmed and dark. When Sylvanas stepped forward from the ranks of the Forsaken, he pointed his pistol at her, his expression hard. “Not another step!”

Lifting her hands to show she was unarmed, Sylvanas continued walking forward. “I mean you no harm. Are you the garrison commander?”

He pulled the trigger, firing a warning shot at her feet. A plume of snow burst up around her greaves and she froze.

“I said -” he snarled, “- not another step.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I have just helped drive off your invaders,” Sylvanas said. She kept her hands up; it would be easier to reach for her bow and quiver if this turned messy.

Flinging aside his pistol, he held out his hand and an officer near him gave him another, which he again levelled at her. “I don’t know who you are, or why you’ve helped us. But I do know you lead an army of ghouls, and you yourself are no living creature.”

“Oh, good. You have eyes. I was beginning to wonder.”

With his thumb he cocked the pistol. She arched an unimpressed eyebrow at him, though her hands were ready to snatch up her bow. Before he could shoot her properly this time, the heavily fortified gate swung open behind him with a great groan, and four men stumbled out in its wake. “Lord Cyril!” one of them cried, “You must come to the battlements at once! The -!”

“Quiet, lad!” he snapped, not once looking away from Sylvanas.

Sylvanas’ hands lowered a fraction. “Lord Cyril, did you say? Cyril White?”

“And what of it?” Cyril growled.

She remembered that name. She remembered Lucille’s local history lessons, and the utter boredom that had come with them. Finally she said, “I have come with your cousin. Perhaps you remember her?”

His bushy brows furrowed in bemusement. “My cousin? What are you talking about -?” Suddenly his eyes widened. “Wait. You’re here with Kath?”

“I am.”

The moment of hesitation vanished, followed by suspicion. “And why should I believe the Lord Admiral would be here? Let alone with the aid of -” He waved his pistol at her overall appearance with a disparaging look. “- someone like you.”

Sylvanas’ mind raced. The fact that he still called Katherine ‘The Lord Admiral’ even after she had technically been deposed by Lord Stormsong was a good start at least. She thought back to every inane thing Lucille had told her about on the march north, trying to scrape together any information that might be useful. Cyril’s frown was deepening with every passing second, and she said quickly, “Freely we serve.”

It was the first thing that she could think of, and it was just enough to give him pause. Cyril blinked at her, though he did not relax a whit.

“If I tell you that she takes her tea with milk and no sugar, will you believe me?” Sylvanas said. “What about if I said she can beat anyone at a game of whist? Or that she enjoys needlework? Or that her grandfather used to tell her stories of the Old Bear that haunted the Crimson Forest?”

Cyril’s face screwed up in confusion, but his stance relaxed. Slowly, he lowered his flintlock. “Who the bloody hell are you?”

Lowering her hands fully now, Sylvanas said, “I am a friend. And I am here to reinforce Watermill Hill, along with Lady Waycrest, the Lord Admiral, and the Lord Admiral’s Heir.”

“Heir?”

Behind him one of the soldiers who had burst through the sally port from before said, “That’s what we’re telling you, my Lord! It’s not Lady Waycrest leading the army!”

Momentary flummoxed, Cyril stood there without speaking or moving until with a shake of his head he sheathed his sword and tucked his flintlock away into his belt. “Get everyone inside!” he ordered his own men, then turned to Sylvanas. “What role would you play in all of this?”

“Let me and my soldiers in, and we will help you man the walls,” Sylvanas said, already giving a significant look to a nearby officer of her own, who bowed and trotted off to relay her orders.

Cyril looked less than pleased at the prospect of letting in her and the other undead. When he pursed his lips and scowled, the resemblance between him and Katherine was far more pronounced. “Very well,” he said, already turning and ducking through the sally port.

The sally port was small enough that she had to duck as well to pass beneath it. Inside, the narrow stone corridors of the castle were a hive of activity. People rushed about, carrying munitions, carrying gunpowder and arrows, their arms filled with gauze for the medical wing or other supplies. Everyone had to press themselves against the walls to pass one another, soldiers hugging their weapons and shuffling sideways until they could reach the mustering grounds.

Most took little notice of Sylvanas. A few puzzled frowns were cast in her direction. Her Forsaken infantry garnered more attention. Some people swore, startled, when they saw an undead soldier looming beside them. A fight nearly broke out somewhere behind her. Sylvanas heard shouting and people shoving one another, until a sergeant roared at them to cease the kerfuffle. She paid them no heed, trailing close on Cyril’s heels.

The castle mustering grounds were a small square of churned mud and snow. Cyril lengthened his stride and trotted up a set of narrow stairs leading to the nearest parapets. His sword clanked against his greaves. When they reached the top, it was a struggle to even get to the crenellated battlements. Archers and musketmen were clustered along the walls, firing from their positions down into the amassed Ashvanes at the gates. Every now and then a cannon would boom out, and bits of rock would be knocked loose from the walls while men crouched down and covered their heads, shrinking away from the blast.

Cyril shoved his way to the front to get a good look at the battlefield below. “Where?” he demanded of the soldier that had opened the sally port and followed in Sylvanas’ wake. “Show me.”

Before the soldier could answer, Sylvanas pointed. “There.”

Cyril squinted, shielding his eyes with the flat of his gloved hand. True enough, just behind the Waycrest lines rode Jaina beneath the standards of House Waycrest. Somewhere along the way, Katherine and Lucille had managed to procure a gold-tasseled, anchor-stamped standard of the Admiralty, which waved proudly beside the dull gray banners bearing the falcon of Drustvar. Even from this distance Jaina was impossible to miss, her pale braid a stark contrast to the dark wool of her greatcoat, surrounded by officers in their glittering finery, Katherine and Lucille riding behind her like personal guards.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Cyril muttered under his breath, slowly lowering his hand.

Another boom of cannons crashed through the air. This time the massive iron-bound doors to the castle shook. Pieces of wood splintered and buckled beneath the concentrated barrage.

Immediately Sylvanas turned and snapped at one of her Forsaken officers, “Get all of our reserve troops onto the mustering grounds and into formation! Prepare for a breach!” Then she turned her attention back to Cyril. “Do you have any cannons of your own?”

“We do, but we ran out of shot yesterday afternoon. We’re under-resourced, and we’ve already had to repel two attacks on Watermill. Everything else we have is in reserve in the city, should we have to fall back.”

Swearing in Thalassian, she glanced over the parapets. The Ashvanes were scrambling to reload their cannons. Everything they had was facing the castle gates. They had already taken the bailey and set down planks to cross to the main motte. This castle was old. Its walls were flat and tall, neither sloped nor angled. It was not built to withstand more modern artillery fire.

“They need to break through and take the keep to regain a defensible position, otherwise they’ve lost,” she said.

Cyril nodded. “I will bring everyone I have to the mustering grounds. We will hold them off as long as we can.”

Sylvanas reached over her shoulder and counted the number of remaining arrows in her quiver. “Bring me as many arrows as you can spare. I will stay on the battlements.”

He barked an order at someone nearby, who scurried off to do just that. Then with one last parting glance in her direction, Cyril strode back down to the grounds to gather his men in the courtyard and wait for the worst.

The soldiers along the walls gave her odd looks but said nothing to her as they continued to fire down into the mass of the enemy. Sylvanas drew back her bow and fired alongside them. Someone brought her another large quiver bristling with arrows, which she placed on the ground at her feet. When her own quiver ran out, she exchanged the two. The Ashvanes would return fire, and musket balls would go whizzing past her. She along with the soldiers beside her would duck behind the crenellation. Several of the others slipped in the snow gathered along the walkways, and they would scramble to press their backs against solid stone, holding their weapons over their heads in an attempt to protect themselves. Chips of stone would scatter from the old walls like shrapnel as the barrage peppered the battlements.

Peeking carefully back over the walls, her hands were already drawing back on the bowstring, the fletching of a fresh arrow brushing against her fingers. Then she paused. She blinked through the glare of light against the snow, and tried to get a better look through the constant flurry drifting from the sky.

New sails had appeared in the distance. A group of ships were sailing in formation towards Fallhaven.

“Who the fuck are they?” said a soldier beside her.

“No idea,” said another. “More Ashvanes, probably. Look at them red sails.”

“Those aren’t Ashvanes,” Sylvanas said, startling them though she did not raise her voice. A dangerous fanged smile had spread across her face. “Those are mine.”

A distant boom sounded out and a puff of smoke trailed through the air. The Zandalari ships were engaging the Ashvanes, going right for the throat and aiming for Integrity with a boldness that bordered on madness. The Kul Tirans may have been a seafaring people, but the Zandalari were just as formidable on the waves. And the Ashvanes were traders at heart. This was not the pride of the Great Fleet of Kul Tiras. These were merchant ships that just so happened to be outfitted with guns.

Their only hope of winning relied on the fact that Lady Waycrest could muster no ships of her own in time to contend with them. They had not expected to test their mettle against battle-hardened Trollish warships.

“Not a moment too soon, either,” Sylvanas muttered to herself.

The soldiers beside her were watching avidly. A few of them gave whoops of excitement and slapped each other on the back, their grins fierce and broad. One of them even patted her on the shoulder in a comradely fashion. She slowly turned to fix him with an incredulous glare, and he snatched his hand back as though suddenly afraid she would bite it off.

“Celebrate later!” she snapped at them. Rising to her feet, she shot another arrow down onto the invaders. “Keep firing!”

Immediately they straightened their backs and leapt to do as they were told. The roar of cannons filled the air once more as the Ashvanes fired off another desperate barrage directly at the gate. Wood splintered and chunks of the door rained down with the snow. Ashvane soldiers thundered across their makeshift bridge, pushing and shoving at the gap that had been gouged into the iron-banded wood. Above them, Fallhaven troops manning the walls strained at the handles of enormous wrought-iron bowls heated over coals. They turned the bowls over, tipping their contents through slits in the stone at their feet and pouring hot oil onto the invaders. Below Sylvanas could hear a muted splash followed by hair-raising screams.

A cry came from somewhere along the walls. “Damn your eyes! Are you blind? Lower the portcullis already!”

Two men sprinted for a windlass. They heaved their weight against the spokes of the crank, and the stones beneath them groaned and creaked as the mechanism began to slowly turn. The heavy portcullis shuddered in its place and crept lower. Then there was a grinding snapping sound, like that of a tree being felled, and the windlass turned no more.

“It’s stuck!” one of them shouted.

Two more people raced over and began hauling on the spokes of the windlass, but the mechanism was as old and rusted as the castle itself. Below them, Sylvanas could hear the sounds of fighting breaking out in the courtyard. Leaning over the walls as far as she dared, Sylvanas peered down at the mouth of the gate. Red-coated soldiers boiled like an upended nest of ants, shoving at the gates, hacking with axes and swords to widen the breach and get inside as quickly as possible. Behind them, Jaina’s troops were breathing down their necks, trapping them into place.

Reaching over her shoulder, Sylvanas counted only three arrows left in the spare quiver that had been brought to her. Resolutely she shouldered her bow, squared her jaw and hauled herself up so that she crouched atop the crenellation. It felt all too familiar. Standing on the edge of a frozen keep, flecks of ice and snow drifting around her as she stared down the long steep drop.

“Ma’am!” one of the nearby soldiers called out to her in a panic. “Ma’am, what are you doing? You are going to fall!”

“Yes, soldier,” she said calmly without glancing over at him. “That is the point.”

And she stepped off the ledge.

The castle walls were not perfectly smooth and uniform. They were far too old for that. Bits of stone stuck out at odd ends, dislodged by time and the slow shifting of the earth beneath them. And somewhere along the way, the owners of this castle had repaired the arrowslits staggered along the walls, and they had done a poor job of it. Blocks of stone created little ledges like steps at various points. Nimbly, she dropped atop the nearest arrowslit. She did not stop to take a moment and steady herself before leaping to the next. One of her hands kept touching the wall, ready to cling to a bit of stone should she need to dodge any incoming fire. But none came.

The Ashvanes were now so preoccupied with what was before them, they did not think to look up. Swiftly and silently, she picked her way to just above the gates, and then leapt down. She drew the bow from her back midair, and fired two shots onto the ground below. The arrows snapped with black necrotic energy and their impact was accompanied by a blast like cannon fire, flinging soldiers back. Landing with a lithe roll, Sylvanas did not stop. She continued towards the gate until she was between it and the portcullis which guarded the outer section of the wall. With the last arrow, she pointed her bow not at the incoming Ashvanes, but up. The arrow struck the mechanism that locked the portcullis into place, and blasted it into a mess of splinters and frayed rope.

With a great clanging groan, the portcullis was released. It slammed down onto the ground, its spiked ends landing atop a row of red-coated soldiers and impaling them against the floor. A few of them were dead immediately. Others writhed, coughing up blood or pulling at their pinned limbs in a futile attempt to free themselves. Already the Ashvanes locked out were trying to move the portcullis, but it was a web of thick dark iron. They would need to batter it aside with more than just the strength of their arms and backs.

Over a dozen soldiers were trapped between the gate and the portcullis with her. They turned, pointing their swords and flintlocks in Sylvanas’ direction. They formed a crescent shape, bearing down upon her, their faces hard. She was outnumbered and completely out of arrows. So, Sylvanas shrugged her bow back over her shoulder and reached for the only weapon she had left.

When she pulled the silver hunting knife from her boot, they laughed.

It took her less than two minutes to kill them all. Calmly, she tugged her knife free from the last one’s chest. It caught against a rib, and she had to yank. She took a moment to clean the blade on the dead man’s coat, bodies strewn on the ground around her in various states of disassembly. The men outside the portcullis that had watched the whole affair were staring at her in silent horror. Sylvanas ignored them and strode towards the half-broken gates. Without glancing back, she hauled herself through a fractured gap in the wood and into the courtyard on the other side.

The moment she had climbed through, a staccato of shots fired in her direction. She felt the sting of one find its mark in her thigh. Gritting her teeth and hissing, Sylvanas raised her hands and shouted, “Cease fire! It’s me, you idiots! Cease fire!”

A few yells echoed her command, and the volley stopped. With a vicious glower, she stalked forward, her stride completely unimpeded by the musketball now lodged in her femur. She could feel the cold sludge of her blood oozing down her leg. Soldiers were arrayed in various sections of the mustering grounds, her Forsaken guarding a ramp that led up the walls, but most of the human soldiers positioned along the walls to fire down into the enemy if they managed to break through. Those that had shot at her from the walls shrank back, cowed, when Sylvanas aimed a baleful glare in their direction.

Cyril waved her over with his hat. When she approached his position, he eyed her over. “Are you quite all right?”

She waved his concern aside. “I am fine.”

“I could have sworn they hit you.”

“They did,” she said. She would need to see the Apothecary again. What an absolute pain. “I have managed to buy us a bit of time, but not much.”

Jamming his hat back onto his head, Cyril nodded. “When they break through, we’ll be ready for them.”

“I don’t suppose you have any more arrows, Lord Mayor?”

Rather than answer, Cyril reached behind him for a musket that was leaning against a crate along with a series of other firearms. He tossed the musket at her, and she snatched it from the air. Sylvanas wrinkled her nose at the weapon, but took it regardless. It was heavy and cumbersome, but she would have to make do.

“Place yourself where you like,” Cyril told her with a gesture towards the castle at large. “I’ll be staying here.”

Sylvanas turned to walk away, but paused. “Why are you stationed here instead of a garrison commander?” she asked.

Cyril had already pulled another flintlock from the pile behind him and was inspecting its sights. “She died. Last night, I’m told. So, I sallied forth from Fallhaven with a small force in the hopes that I could give Watermill a fighting chance. Thank the Tides you lot came when you did, otherwise we’d be buggered six ways to Tuesday.”

With a grunt, Sylvanas strode off towards the nearest steps that would lead her to the wall-walk above. She made quick work of the stairs, the pain in her leg having faded to a dull ache by now. After a few curt questions and pointed fingers, she found the squad that had shot at her.

“Gentlemen,” she murmured silkily when she drew up beside them.

They shuffled their feet, their faces alternatively pale or flushed with a mixture of fear and apprehension. A few of them touched the brims of their hats. None of them wanted to meet her eye.

“Which one of you shot me?”

A series of nervous coughs and clearing of throats followed her question. Nobody said anything. Eventually, a young man was shoved forward, the others backing away as though he were a sheep placed upon a sacrificial altar to appease the wrath of some god. He clutched his musket like it was a buoy keeping him afloat in a storm. His hands shook so badly she thought he might drop the weapon.

“Congratulations,” Sylvanas said blandly. “You are the only one here who can aim to save their life.”

“M-Ma’am,” he mumbled, touching the brim of his hat and quailing under her scarlet gaze.

“Do not shoot me again.”

“N-No, ma’am.”

“And fetch me more muskets. As many as you can carry.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

There was a beat in which he did nothing.

“Now,” she hissed.

He started at the dark and slithering echo of her voice. Kneeling down slowly, he placed his own musket at her feet like an offering. And then he scrambled away, sprinting off to bring her more.

“The rest of you!” Sylvanas said, lifting her voice to be heard even though the squad was already hanging off her every word. “Get into formation! We are going to have a lesson in trigger discipline! If anyone fires without my command, I will have you flogged!”

There was very little chance that she could actually make good on that threat -- Lord Cyril was lenient letting her loose in Windmill Castle as it was -- but they certainly did not know that. Sylvanas spoke with the weight of centuries of military experience behind every syllable. A squad of only twelve men, most of whom looked like they had just come off the farm, did not have enough wherewithal to question her. Even the corporal, who was supposedly in charge of this squad, scurried to do as he was told.

There was a banging and crashing from the walls as the Ashvanes attempted to batter down the portcullis. The young man who had shot her returned, puffing up the stairs with his arms laden with muskets and extra bags of shot tied at his belt. He started arraying them all before her so that she could fire them in rapid succession, when the portcullis finally gave way with a squeal of warped metal and a clang that reverberated through the stone ground.

Picking up a musket, Sylvanas shooed the young man away until he stood beside her, ready to hand her a firearm when she needed it. “Ready!” she yelled.

Everyone checked their weapons. A row of soldiers were kneeling on the wall-walk, while behind them another row stood to fire over their heads. The sounds of Ashvanes battering down the door to the courtyard grew louder.

“Aim!”

They shouldered their muskets. Their faces were pale but determined. In a snap of wood and iron, the gates caved inwards, and red-coated soldiers poured into the courtyard below them. Sylvanas waited until they were within range, carefully gauging the distance.

“Fire!”

The kick of the musket punched into Sylvanas’ shoulder, but her shot flew true as any arrow. A volley of musket fire showered the enemy, and a row of Ashvane soldiers staggered to the snowy ground. Puffs of smoke trailed from the long muzzles of the muskets into the air. Sylvanas roared out the order for them to rotate and reload, watching the squad’s actions carefully even as she cast aside her single-shot flintlock and reached for another. The young man passed on to her without question, taking the used musket and reloading it for her so that she could continue to shoot. For every one that a Fallhaven soldier fired, she fired three, her movements smooth and rapid.

The Ashvanes never made it further than the courtyard. The moment they set foot on the ramp, her Forsaken troops bore down upon them, shoving them back into the killing zone, where they were shot at from every angle. Red was painted in slops and sprays along the snow-strewn earth. Soldiers littered the ground, their corpses piling up with a blanket of white as snow continued to drift down from the sky.

Overhead, a loud caw caught Sylvanas’ attention. She paused in swapping out her muskets, craning her neck to look up. The dark form of a raven flecked the sky, circling high above her and then careening off towards the gate. When she glanced down, the Ashvane soldiers had been driven to the point of exhaustion and were beginning to throw down their weapons and kneel in the snow.

“Cease fire!” Sylvanas called out, and not a single trigger from her section of the walls was pulled further. All of the soldiers tucked their weapons against their sides, looking tired but elated. Some of them glanced in her direction as though seeking a pat on the head for their good behaviour. She rolled her eyes and drawled, “Yes. You can obey simple orders. Very good.”

Despite her dry tone, they beamed. Shaking her head, Sylvanas turned her attention back to the courtyard.

Cyril and his men had begun the process of capturing the enemy soldiers and gathering their weapons so they could not pose a threat. A tired cheer went up throughout the castle at the sight of red-coated soldiers being lined up along the side of the courtyard to await their fate. Sylvanas did not join them. She was watching Cyril. A Fallhaven soldier had rushed up to him and was now making excited gestures towards the castle entrance. Cyril straightened his hat and said something she could not hear, before moving to stand in the centre of the courtyard and facing the entrance.

The sound of a horn sang a single high note that shivered through the air. The cheers died down, and everyone turned to the castle entrance. At the fore of a procession through the gate rode Lucille and Katherine, and ahead of them both, like the centrepiece of a painting, was Jaina astride a white horse. Her coat was scuffed. There was a bloody tear in the sleeve from where a musket ball or sword had grazed her in the fray. A streak of blood rested high upon her cheek, as though a man had clawed at her as he died. She sat straight and tall and poised in the saddle.

"Lord Mayor," Jaina said to Cyril, her voice carrying across the stone walls. She tugged back on the reins so that her horse stopped in the middle of the mustering grounds right before him. "I heard you were in a bit of trouble."

Cyril stared between Jaina and her mother, realisation dawning in his eyes. He nodded and replied, “Your arrival could not have been more perfect, Lady Proudmoore. You have my gratitude.”

She tilted her head to the side. Beneath her the white horse stamped its hoof and she rocked easily with the motion. “I hope I have more than that. Times are changing, Cyril, and we have much to discuss.”

Slowly, he swept his hat from his head and placed it over his heart. When he bowed, a hush fell across the mustering grounds and extended all across the walls where onlookers watched en masse. Cyril straightened, but kept his hat clasped over his chest and said firmly, “I am your servant, madam."

The castle interior was as damp and old as its exterior. As far as Sylvanas was concerned, Windmill Castle was a perfect reflection of the country itself. Sturdy. Defensible. Outdated and out of touch. By no means a jewel in anyone’s proverbial crown, but reliable nonetheless.

After hours spent rounding up what remained of the Ashvane forces and getting the combined Waycrest and Horde soldiers settled, Cyril had led them to a side chamber that had turned into a command centre for the now deceased garrison commander of Windmill Castle. The hearth was cold and dark. A long wooden table was positioned in the centre of the room, strewn with maps and inkwells and quills and candlesticks dripping with hard pale wax. The walls were hung with moth-eaten tapestries that had seen better days and probably ought to be thrown into the tip, truth be told. Likely it would cost more to remove them than to simply leave them be. Whatever scenes they had once portrayed were long since faded from both sight and memory.

Upon entering the room, Sylvanas had fully expected Jaina to cross over to the hearth and light it with a snap of her fingers. She did not. Instead, Jaina conversed in low tones with Cyril and her mother, while Sylvanas, Velonara and Lucille went over the latest figures from the field. Casualties. Injuries. Stock reports.

“Hayles and Anya are still rounding up stragglers,” Sylvanas told them.

Lucille nodded, not at all surprised by this news. “Yes. Arthur told us.”

Two soldiers trotted into the room. One carried an armful of ice-dusted firewood, which he dutifully began stacking in the hearth and coaxed a spark to life with flint and tinder from his pocket. The other was carrying a piece of parchment, which he gave to Jaina with a bow, as though offering her a great treasure. Sylvanas could hear Jaina’s murmur of thanks as she took the long unfurled scroll, and immediately set it on the table for later.

Slowly the room began to warm, but a chill lingered along the stone walls and floors further away from the fireplace. The soldiers took their leave. Outside, the snow was coming down thick and fast now. If they had been delayed any further, their army would have been in serious trouble. Sylvanas would glance at the windows every so often and dwell on unpleasant memories of wintering with an army through unpleasant conditions. Their quiet conversation was broken up by the arrival of a few familiar faces.

Nathanos was striding towards them. Behind him, flanked by two tall Trolls in gleaming golden finery as though they were an honour guard, was Lady Priscilla Ashvane. She was not bound in any way, but the Zandalari kept a careful eye on her movements, preventing any escape. Their hands rested against the pommels of their cutlasses with an ease that belied how carefully they were monitoring their captive. Lady Ashvane herself walked with her head held high. Her eyes glittered darkly. She wore nearly as much gold as the Zandalari, whose gilded tusks and various piercings gleamed in the lamp light.

When they had reached the table, Nathanos bowed. “May I present, Lady Priscilla of House Ashvane, whose ship has been claimed as a prize by the Golden Fleet of Zandalar.”

At the mention of the fate of Integrity, Priscilla’s lips pressed into a thin white line and her hands clenched at her sides in silent anger. Nathanos escorted her to a free seat at the table, pulling out the chair like a butler. Jaina, Katherine and the others watched her like hawks. Priscilla did not flounder beneath their gazes, shoulders back and head held high as though she were being escorted not to a chair but to a gallows.

“How good of you to join us, Priscilla,” Katherine greeted coolly. “I trust your travels were uneventful?”

Priscilla gave a snort of derisive laughter. “Quite. Thank you.”

Offering her a thin smile, Jaina gestured to the table and said to the others, “Shall we begin?”

Meanwhile the Trolls stood aside, waiting. Rather than sit with the others, Sylvanas stepped forward to greet the Zandalari. “Which one of you fine gentlemen is the -?” She paused for a moment, thinking back about naval ranks and which one would apply here. Finally she said cautiously, “- brigadier?”

The Troll to the left bowed deeply to her, before straightening to his full height once more. He was staggeringly tall like all of his kin. What she had previously thought to be an angular gold necklace across his partially bare chest was actually a series of detailed tattoos carved into skin the colour of a sea at storm.

“Commodore Issoufu,” he said by way of introduction. “It is an honour to meet you in person, Warchief.”

“I can say the same of you, Commodore,” she replied, offering him a small rare smile. “From what I’ve been told, you and your shaman are personally responsible for our victory on the river today. You are to be commended.”

He shook his head, his own smile wide and revealing sharp teeth. “The crew of the Rhunok did the real work.”

“And you should all be proud. I shall remember you to Princess Talanji.”

With another low bow, Issoufu clasped his hand over his heart then gently touched his forehead at the mention of his princess’ name. “May she live forever,” he murmured. “I would be most grateful, Warchief.”

“Of course.” Sylvanas made a quick Ranger gesture with her fingers at Nathanos, who had returned to her side after Lady Ashvane was seated. When he answered with a silent nod of understanding, she then said to Issoufu, “You are to scout Carver’s Harbour, but do not engage the enemy. I doubt further action will be necessary. In the meantime, I will write to Dazar’alor of your valour. I hope it is not too much of an imposition for you to take Nathanos aboard one of your ships? He will be there to report back to me only, I assure you.”

Issoufu laughed, the sound deep and short and booming. “No imposition at all. We will have plenty for him to do. There are no idle hands on my ships. I will put him to work.”

She smirked, ignoring Nathanos’ flat glower in her direction. “Very good. You are dismissed.”

He left, taking his men with him. Nathanos waited until the Trolls had gone before he growled, “Put me to work?”

“I hear life at sea is very bracing. Good for the spirit. Besides, you heard the man.” She patted him on the shoulder. “There is always work to be done on a ship.”

“He can hire enough sailors to sink a first rate with the prize money he’s getting from Integrity alone.”

“And I am sure the good Commodore deserves every copper piece.”

When Sylvanas had turned back to claim her seat at the table, conversation had already been struck up between the others. She sat down as quietly and unobtrusively as she could, content to watch events unfold from the sidelines for now.

Jaina sat at the head of the table, with Katherine at her right and Lucille at her left. She had her hands clasped calmly over the page the soldier had brought to her earlier. Her hands were bare, her white gloves tucked into a pocket of her greatcoat. Somewhere along the way, she had found the time to rebraid her hair so that it did not look so messy as it had after the battle. The smear of blood had also been wiped away, though it did little to make her appear less foreboding.

Priscilla sneered at her. "You can't honestly expect me to sign that."

Jaina's stare was unflinching. She tapped her clasped hands against the parchment. "I can. And I do."

"Why on earth would I even entertain the thought? This isn't over."

"In case you haven't noticed," Lucille said from her seat. "We captured your flagship. You are our prisoner."

"And I still have a dozen more ships at anchor in Carver's Harbour. Not to mention the hundreds of merchant vessels fueling the Kul Tiran economy." Priscilla folded her arms and sat back in her chair. "What do you have? A few ragtag Trollish frigates and a prayer. Fallhaven will starve before the winter ends, and the city will fold like a house of cards."

Jaina turned a questioning look to Cyril. He cleared his throat and nodded. "It's true. We barely have enough food to feed ourselves for the next four weeks. Damn Ashvanes burned the crops a few months ago right around harvest time. We're already tightening our belts as it is."

"That won't be a problem," said Katherine smoothly. She nodded towards Jaina. "We have a solution to that."

Cyril turned a curious gaze upon Jaina, who sat at the head of the table. In her fine waistcoat and her shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, she appeared every inch the Heir to the Admiralty. When everyone at the table gave her their full attention, she made an abortive motion with her hand, as though about to scratch her face only to think better of it. Her fingers closed into a fist and she placed it deliberately in her lap.

She was, Sylvanas realised, trying not to tug at the cravat still tied tightly around her neck.

"Have you given shelter to the farmers in the area," Jaina asked.

Cyril nodded. "Of course," he said. "As many as could safely be housed in the city."

"Good. Bring as many of them as you can to the fields north of the city tomorrow morning."

Face screwing up in confusion, Cyril said, "Might I be so bold as to ask what for?"

"To harvest crops," Jaina answered in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Katherine appeared startled. She leaned closer to her daughter and lowered her voice to a hushed whisper, which Sylvanas' keen ears could still pick up across the table. "This isn't what we agreed."

"No," Jaina said firmly, not bothering to lower her voice at all. "It isn't. But it is what will happen nonetheless."

"We should bring them after you've -" Katherine made a fluttering gesture with her fingers, trying to hide the movement from Priscilla's keen eyes.

Jaina's expression was chilly. "Say it."

Blinking, Katherine leaned back in her seat. "What?"

"Say it," Jaina repeated, and now her words could have been carved from ice. "Say: 'after I have used magic to make the plants grow.'"

Lips pursed in a thin line, Katherine sat ramrod straight in her seat. In spite of her affected poise, her pale eyes darted to Cyril and Priscilla, then flicked back to Jaina. "We talked about this," she said her voice hushed and hurried, as though explaining something to an unruly child. "Kul Tiras has never had a Lord Admiral who was also able to use magic before."

"Magic is part of who I am. I will not hide it."

Before Katherine could retort, Sylvanas interrupted calmly, "She couldn't, even if she wanted to."

Now every pair of eyes swung towards her at the opposite end of the table.

"What do you mean?" Katherine asked. "If she just didn't use it in front of people, then -"

But Sylvanas shook her head. "I do not think you quite understand. Most people might not notice, yes. However, others will only have to stand in her presence to know. Powerful magic users cannot hide what they are."

Katherine scoffed. "And I suppose you can sense her presence, or some such rubbish?"

"Yes." Sylvanas caught Jaina's gaze across the table and held it. "She reeks of arcane. Like a thunderstorm in summer. It is very distracting, truth be told."

Jaina appeared taken aback by the odd confession. On the other hand, Katherine wrinkled her nose -- more in distaste than in disbelief -- an expression that was shared by Lady Ashvane.

"So, it's true. I thought Alfred was just spouting some Tidesage bollocks about the Drust, but he was right. You’re a witch." Priscilla shook her head and leaned an elbow heavily upon the armrest of her chair. She spoke to Katherine, now. "I thought we had finally rooted out this damned Drust infiltration when Meredith died, but now it has hooked it's claws into the Admiralty itself. You ought to be ashamed, Katherine."

Jaina's face darkened. Her eyes blazed. When she spoke her voice was wintry. “You have nothing, and you will sign this treaty or reap the consequences.”

“You can’t hang me.”

“I don’t need to hang you to win.”

An ugly look crossed Priscilla’s face, and she hissed, “I haven’t lost, yet. My people will ransom me back. I will buy the rest of your army. You have nothing.”

Leaning back, Jaina drummed her fingers against the page. Her fingertips created a dull staccato rhythm against the solid wood. For a moment Sylvanas thought Katherine or Cyril might interject and take charge of the conversation, but then Jaina spoke, "It was obvious you could never attempt to invade western Drustvar until you had secured Fallhaven and the east. It would be too difficult to supply your army when the pass at Arom’s Stand was inaccessible during winter. To say nothing of what would have happened if your men had dared come into the Crimson Forest. From there it was only a matter of time. You have money, yes, but nothing else. You're not the Navy. I can break any siege with food. But most of all, I knew I could always depend on you being as untrusting as you are untrustworthy. So, of course, you came here personally. Because war is expensive. Because you believe your officers are incompetent fools. Because you wanted this over as quickly as possible. The moment you sailed to Drustvar, you lost. All I had to do was wait."

Silence fell over the room. Priscilla glared at her, but the effect was dampened by the way she darted her eyes towards Katherine and Sylvanas, as though weighing up her chances.

Jaina cocked her head to the side, considering Priscilla with an unblinking gaze, as if looking right through her. Then, she reached out and slid the paper across the table closer towards Priscilla. "Sign it."

Priscilla's throat bobbed when she swallowed thickly. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, as though she were cornered. Slowly, she lifted the page and began to read it more closely. Her brows furrowed darkly as she scanned the lines of flowery script. By the time she reached the bottom, her cheeks were flushed with incredulous anger.

"You can't be serious," she snapped, though she did not push the treaty aside. "Severe munitions limitations on merchant vessels? Removing the press and running the Navy on volunteers alone? Giving Drust the ability to own land? And opening the borders to the likes of -?" She suddenly pointed towards Sylvanas and spluttered, "- her?"

Sylvanas bared her teeth in a smile, but remained silent.

Meanwhile Jaina said firmly, "The borders of Kul Tiras will open whether we like it or not. By force. By attrition. By choice. It will happen. All we can do is choose how."

Even Lucille and Katherine looked a bit uncomfortable at that declaration. No one at the table said anything to the contrary however. Cyril shifted in his seat but nodded with a small resigned shrug.

Priscilla narrowed her eyes. “What else is there? Surely this can’t be everything?”

“No, you’re right. It isn’t.” Jaina’s face was a cold unwavering mask. “I want you to travel with me to Boralus as soon as this is all over. We will call a meeting of the Great Houses, and I want you to vote for me to become the next Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras.”

“Any why would I do this?”

“I can offer you incentives.”

“Which are?”

"You will vote for me, and not only will I permit you to keep your life, you will keep your station, your name, your wealth -"

"But not my pride," Priscilla sneered.

"No," Jaina murmured. "Your pride belongs to me."

A log slipped in the hearth and the fire popped, casting a cascade of sparks onto the soot-blackened stones before it. Outside it was beginning to grow dark. Night came early to Drustvar in winter. Priscilla worried a corner of the parchment between her ringed-bright fingers. Then she sighed. Her shoulders slumped and she gestured for Jaina to pass her the quill. Wordlessly, Jaina slid the inkwell and quill towards her. The rest of the table seemed to hold its breath -- apart from Sylvanas and Nathanos -- as Priscilla scratched her signature onto the bottom of the document with an angry scribble.

Jaina rose to her feet and pulled the document back towards herself. “Cyril,” she said, “Would you be so good as to witness this for us?”

“Certainly, madam.”

“Good.”

She signed the document herself, then passed it to both her mother and Lucille in turn. Eventually it made its way into Cyril’s hands, and he checked that everything was in order before he picked up a quill and signed beneath all their names.

As if not believing his own words, Cyril said, “I hereby witness that all present parties have sworn that this document shall be observed in good faith and without deceit, given by our hand, and so pass the Treaty of Windmill.”

“Jolly good,” Lucille said, sounding relieved.

Priscilla was pinching the bridge of her nose. “I need a stiff drink. Or five.”

By the time they rode into Boralus, the snow had faded and it was -- predictably -- raining. Sylvanas had almost grown accustomed to the rugged terrain of Drustvar, so that the countryside of Tiragarde Sound felt tame in comparison. Here there were no vast and wooded forests, no plains of dun and purple heath as far as the eye could see. Instead the snow-capped peaks dwindled on the horizon.

People had stared and pointed when they had entered the capital. Word had quickly spread that Katherine, Lucille, and Priscilla had all entered the city together. There were confused murmurs at the sight of Jaina, speculation running wild.

Meanwhile, Sylvanas, riding at the back of the procession, had her cowl drawn low over her head. She remained as inconspicuous as possible and garnered very little attention. No Forsaken or Tauren accompanied her, and she was trailed only by the three Rangers she had first brought with her to Kul Tiras. As soon the Treaty of Windmill had been signed, she had ordered her Horde troops to begin their travels back to Kalimdor. The last thing they needed was for Jaina to be seen riding into the city with the Horde at her back.

Not yet, anyway. But that would come later. Sylvanas was greatly looking forward to seeing a Horde banner flying on the docks of Boralus. Or perhaps even from Proudmoore Keep. She hadn’t decided yet.

Proudmoore Keep itself was as draughty and incommodious as ever. She could not tell who looked more uncomfortable being there: Jaina or Priscilla. It was a close match. Whereas Lucille and Katherine strode through the halls, chatting idly, Lady Ashvane grimaced at a butler who came to take her cloak. On the other hand, Jaina just looked like she was going to be ill.

A steward was speaking in low courteous tones to Katherine, “Lord Stormsong arrived just before you, madam. I took the initiative of escorting him to the audience chamber.”

“Very good, Bernard. Tell him we’ll be there shortly. And bring some tea while you’re at it.”

The steward bowed. “Right away.”

Jaina’s face seemed to lose a bit more of its colour. “Lord Stormsong is already here?”

“Of course, my dear,” Katherine said, already striding off in the direction of the audience chamber. Every alternate footsteps clacked as her cane contacted the stone floors. “Alfred always was a stickler about being on time.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Priscilla said, her lip curling just slightly. “For the leaders of the Great Houses to meet so you could rub your victory in our faces?”

Jaina scowled at her. “No.”

“Well, if you’re getting cold feet, you could elect me Lord Admiral instead.”

At that, Lucille said firmly, “Not to be crude, Priscilla, but I would rather vote for a shit-farmer from Dampwick.”

Ahead of her, Katherine snorted in amusement.

Jaina wrung out her braid while they walked, sending drops of water splattering to the floor. “I just thought I would have time to change into something dry.”

“Welcome back to Boralus,” Sylvanas muttered under her breath.

Just outside of the audience chamber, Lord Stormsong stood flanked by two Tidepriests with their faces deeply cowled and their eyes blazing. The shadows seemed to cling to them, and the lanterns strung from their belts glowed with a faint blue light. Lord Stormsong himself was a tall man with dark eyes. His height was only accentuated by the mitre of office he wore. He clutched a scrolled staff in one hand and glowered as the group approached.

A butler was trying to serve him tea, but he waved the man away irritably. “No, thank you,” he said.

“A cup for me, please,” Katherine said, drawing up to the butler and hooking her cane beneath her elbow so she could take the tea. “Hello again, Alfred. You’re looking as cunning as ever.”

Alfred’s eyes narrowed. “Katherine,” he greeted. “I thought you’d died when I sunk your flag off the coast of Tol Dagor.”

Katherine sipped primly at her tea. “And give you the satisfaction of having killed me? Never.”

His only response was a sour grunt.

Sylvanas watched this interaction from the sidelines with a muted kind of glee. She had spent the last few years enduring the politics of Orgrimmar, most of which involved a great deal of fisticuffs and beating of chests. This veiled cutting back and forth however, was far more similar to what she had grown up with back in Silvermoon. She almost felt a touch nostalgic. It was difficult to keep her expression neutral.

Alfred’s dark eyes moved to Lucille. “You look even younger than when I last saw you.”

“And you’re just as insufferable as I remember,” Lucille said cheerfully. She held out her hand to the butler bearing a tea tray and said, “I think I need one of those too, if you please.”

“Tides,” said Priscilla. “Can we just get this bloody thing over with?”

Alfred turned to her. “I don’t know what you mean. A meeting of the Great Houses has been called, and so I have come as summoned. But so far nobody has deigned to tell me why.”

With a contemptuous sniff, Katherine said, “Don’t play dumb. It really doesn’t suit you.”

Alfred opened his mouth, but stopped when Jaina cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention. All eyes swung towards her, and she straightened her shoulders somewhat. “I called the meeting.”

His eyes roved over her from head to toe. “And who are you?”

“That’s my daughter,” Katherine answered before Jaina could speak. “Perhaps you remember her. Though the last time you would have seen her, she was about yea high.” She held a hand up to her waist to indicate Jaina’s height as a child.

Some dark expression flickered across Alfred’s face. “The child you sent to be raised by those wood savages?”

Sylvanas could see Jaina’s jaw tighten, though she said nothing in reply.

“The very same,” Katherine murmured into her cup of tea. “I’ve named her my Heir.”

"If you really expect me to vote for a Drust witch, then -!"

"I don't," Jaina interrupted him. "In fact I fully expect for you to vote against me, and lose anyway. I have already secured a majority. You are only here as a courtesy."

His face went pale, then red, then an unpleasant shade of purple. He rounded on Lady Ashvane. "If you'd just listened to my proposal, then we never would have been in this situation."

Priscilla's lip curled, and she snapped, "Oh, go hang yourself, Alfred."

“Well,” said Lucille. “This is getting off to a wonderful start. Shall we go in?”

“Please,” Katherine sighed, setting aside her finished cup and saucer onto the butler’s silver tray.

Two Proudmoore guardsmen flanking the large double doors to the audience chamber moved to push the doors open. The old hinges groaned beneath the weight. Still bickering, Priscilla, Alfred, Lucille and Katherine began walking inside. The Tidesages did not follow after their master, instead taking up residence in the shadows of a corner of the hallway to mutter amongst themselves quietly, their murmurs like the lap of waves against the shore.

Jaina took a step after the others, then paused. She turned to Sylvanas and said, “I’m afraid outsiders are not permitted to watch the proceedings. You may wait outside if you wish.”

“I think I would prefer to change into some dry clothes,” Sylvanas replied.

“I am green with envy.”

From inside the audience chamber, raised voices could be heard. Jaina winced. Sylvanas glanced over her shoulder to see what was going on. It appeared that Alfred and Priscilla were already getting into a heated argument, while Lucille was mournfully gazing into her empty cup of tea, and Katherine rubbed wearily at her brow.

Jaina made a face, scrunching up her nose. “I’m going to be here a while. I don’t suppose you would make a distraction for me, so I can flee back to the Crimson Forest?”

“And ruin all my hard work?”

“You’re evil.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.” Turning on her heel, Sylvanas gave a little wave over her shoulder. “Try not to have too much fun without me.”

Behind her she could hear Jaina sigh.

The last time she had been in Proudmoore Keep, the butler had escorted her around with a leery glance at her weapons, as though she might attack its inhabitants. Now, warm quarters had been provided for her and her Rangers. They were a far cry from the sumptuous amenities of Silvermoon -- or even Dalaran, for that matter -- but they were some of the best Kul Tiras had to offer foreign dignitaries.

Hours had passed. Night had washed over Boralus. And still the meeting of the Great Houses had not finished. Velonara was lounging on a couch with her feet up, filing her fingernails to be repainted. Anya sat at a table, practising sleight of hand tricks with coins and a well-worn deck of cards. Meanwhile, Nathanos paced before the fireplace. He would wear a ditch into the carpet before long.

"You look troubled, Nathanos," Sylvanas remarked. Her fingers were laced behind her head, and she had her feet propped atop a cushioned footrest before a blazing hearth. For the first time in months, her clothes were completely dry. It felt like heaven.

"I wish I had your confidence," he said.

"You don't trust that they will open the borders to us?"

"All I know is that I have no idea what they are discussing in that chamber."

"Are you telling me you don't have spies in the room?" She tsked, tapping her tongue against the back of her teeth. "For shame."

"I tried," he growled, continuing to pace. "But there are two very powerful magic users inside. They don't want to be overheard."

“And they needn’t be.” When Nathanos opened his mouth to retort, she waved him away. “Relax. Or haven’t you realised yet?”

His pacing slowed. “Realise what?”

Sylvanas smiled, and her fangs glinted in the firelight. “We’ve won.”

The ascension of the Lord Admiral's Heir demanded a ceremony before the citizenry of Boralus. Sylvanas kept out of the way during the preparations. Servants and guardsmen scurried about in Proudmoore livery, ordered to and fro by Katherine, who barked commands as though she were back on a flagship. Though she was not the only one to be kept busy. More than once, Sylvanas could spy Lucille fussing over decorations and ledgers. Apparently there was to be a large dinner at the Keep after the ceremony itself. More like a military ball than anything else.

Lucille had even personally delivered an invitation written in her own flawless hand. Sylvanas had turned the cream-coloured cardstock over between her fingers before tossing it into the fireplace. She would have to attend, of course. It wouldn’t do to snub her new allies by not making her appearances. Especially not when everyone of name and worth in the city was going to be in attendance.

If Lucille was put out by the way Sylvanas had discarded the invitation she did not show it. “There is a dress code,” she said. “Formal military, if you please.”

In answer, Sylvanas gestured to her current armoured outfit.

“Oh. Hmm.” Lucille reached out and touched one of the spikes on Sylvanas’ pauldron. “I don’t suppose you have anything a little less...er….lugubrious?”

Sylvanas gave her a flat look and said, “No.”

“Right. Of course. Would you mind if I sent over my tailor? She can whip something up for you in a jiffy. She is really very good, and I think a Kul Tiran tailcoat would look very fine on you indeed.”

“No.”

"But -!"

In the end, Sylvanas had to all but steer Lucille towards the door to get her out of her private quarters in the Keep. And to think that only just a few months ago Lucille had been too afraid of her to step foot in her personal space alone.

“She’s right, you know,” Anya said from a chair by the hearth once Sylvanas had slammed the door shut behind Lucille.

“About what?”

“You would look good in a Kul Tiran tailcoat. And they’re very comfortable.”

“Not you, too, Anya.”

Anya only shrugged. “Velonara made me get one with her.”

Aiming a glare at the two of them, Sylvanas said, “Wear what you like, but I shall be representing the Horde as Warchief.”

At that, Velonara’s expression turned dubious. She shared a silent meaningful look with Anya, who shrugged and mouthed, “I tried.”

“All right. I am leaving.” Sylvanas tugged the door back open and stalked out.

It was a winding walk through the draughty halls of the Keep to reach Jaina’s personal quarters. A guard was stationed outside. He kept stealing nervous looks at the enormous bone and branch sabre cat that lounged just beside the door like a common house pet. Its tail twitched when Sylvanas strode forwards.

Stopping before the door, Sylvanas spared Adalyn a glance before speaking to the guard. “Is she inside?”

The guard came to attention without needing to be prompted. “Lady Proudmoore is getting ready for the ceremony, ma’am. The Lord Admiral is with her.”

“Oh?” Sylvanas’ ears cocked forward slightly. “I don’t hear any yelling.”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then they won’t mind if I intrude. Unless someone else objects?” Sylvanas said, looking at Adalyn again.

The cat yawned broadly, revealing fangs that could shred her to pieces, and Adalyn lowered her head back down to her crossed paws for a snooze.

Wordlessly, the guard opened the door for her, and Sylvanas walked inside. The door shut softly behind her. As the Lord Admiral’s Heir, Jaina’s personal apartments were sprawling with multiple rooms. The sitting room was empty, though there was evidence that people had recently inhabited it. A fire was crackling in the hearth. Two empty cups of tea sat atop a table beside a teapot. The spout still steamed faintly. A silver spoon was turned over so that it leaned against the saucer. The tip of a quill was balanced in its well, and ink was still glistening and fresh on a small piece of paper.

Sylvanas could hear the faint murmur of voices through one of the doors leading to another chamber. On silent feet, she approached, but did not push the door open immediately. She leaned against the wall beside it and listened.

“...and whatever you do: don’t lift the sword above shoulder-height.”

“I know, mother. We’ve been over this a hundred times, now.”

There was a momentary pause, before Katherine continued softly. “Yes. Of course.” The sound of rustling fabric followed, and then Katherine said, “Here. Let me.”

“You don’t have to -”

“But I would like to. Please.”

Jaina gave no verbal answer. The soft whisper of fabric returned, and then Katherine said, “You should have told me sooner.”

“I didn’t want to make that conversation at Barrowknoll any worse than it already was.”

“All the same. I would’ve liked to have known about this.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Jaina, you died.”

“You don’t have to remind me. I was there. No, don’t. Stop. Please.” Jaina drew in a deep shuddering breath. “It’s in the past. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

A sigh, and then the sound of uneven footsteps. “Well, you certainly look the part of Lord Admiral, in any case.”

“That’s all I have at the moment,” Jaina grumbled. “Appearances.”

“You will learn.”

“Hmm.”

“You are not alone. The Admiralty is not without its resources. And you have me, as well.” The gentle tap of Katherine’s cane joined the fray, and her voice drifted as though she were walking about the room. “I may not have much time left in this world, but what time I do have is yours.”

“Thank you,” Jaina said softly.

Katherine made a wordless scoffing noise. “Don’t thank me, my dear. It really is the least I can do.”

Jaina lowered her voice, and Sylvanas strained to hear it.

“I see,” Katherine said. Then, she said very clearly, “You may come in now, Warchief. I was just leaving.”

Before Sylvanas could even touch the handle however, the door swung inwards and Katherine began limping through it.

“Lord Admiral,” Sylvanas greeted.

“You won’t be able to call me that for much longer,” Katherine drawled without pausing. “Just ‘Kath’ will do. But never in public, if you please.”

Sylvanas wasn’t sure she would ever call her that, regardless of whether they were in private or not. For her part, Katherine did not give her the opportunity to respond. She was already heading towards the main exit, leaning heavily on her cane with every step. Sylvanas watched her go until the door shut behind her. Then, she glanced into the room beyond.

Jaina’s bedroom looked like any other bedroom in the Keep. There were no personal touches to it, as though she hardly spent any time here apart from what daily sleep her body required. The four-poster bed was ornately carved and canopied with green drapes. A trunk sat at the foot of the bed. A large wooden wardrobe was open, revealing a panoply of military clothes that could have belonged to any high-ranking Naval officer.

Jaina herself stood before a narrow, full length, silver-backed mirror. She was tying a white silk cravat around her neck, except this time she was actually accomplishing the feat.

“The only good thing about being back here,” Jaina said while still studying the movement of her hands in the mirror, “is that I can ask a valet to teach me how to tie one of these wretched things.”

“I see they’ve succeeded,” Sylvanas said. She stopped by the bed, crossing her arms and leaning her shoulder against one of the carved pillars.

Jaina huffed with self-deprecating laughter. “Barely.” She continued fiddling with the cravat, tucking the ends away just so into her waistcoat. Her greatcoat was draped across the mattress beside Sylvanas alongside her gloves. "This all feels like it's moving so fast. Weren't we just fighting in Drustvar?"

"Three weeks ago."

"Like I said. Fast."

"Would you prefer to keep fighting?"

"Of course not." Jaina had finished with the cravat and now smoothed her hands down the front of her waistcoat. "I do wish I could vanish back to my little cabin, though. Life was simpler as the High Thornspeaker."

Sylvanas cocked her head to the side. “Is that a title you will retain?”

“It is. Though I will be ceding many of my duties to the other Thornspeakers. I am not giving them up by becoming Lord Admiral. I am - I am ensuring their future.”

She sounded firm, like she was trying to convince herself.

Without responding, Sylvanas continued to watch the way Jaina nervously fiddled with her clothing. Then she picked up the greatcoat from the bed and approached, holding the article of clothing up so that Jaina could slip her arms into it and shrug it into place over her shoulders.

“Thank you,” Jaina said. She straightened the lapels of her greatcoat, but her hands slowed, and then stopped. For a long silent moment, she stared at her reflection in the long mirror, her face going strangely slack.

When Jaina continued to stare and not speak, Sylvanas asked, “Is everything all right?”

"I've - I’ve dreamed of this moment," she breathed.

"Really?" Sylvanas said dryly. "Because you certainly fought against it long enough."

"No. I mean: I've Dreamed of this moment."

It was only then that Sylvanas noticed the trembling in Jaina's fingers. Her shoulders were beginning to shake. Her face was pale. Her eyes were wide, gazing at herself in horror. Her breaths grew rapid, turning into short sharp gasps.

Startled, Sylvanas reached out. The moment she touched Jaina's shoulder, the tension in the air went sharp as a whip and the mirror cracked. Jaina flinched. A long jagged line now ran down a section of the glass, exactly mirroring the scar down her cheek.

Shaking her head, unable to look away and slowly stumbling back a step, Jaina mumbled, "No, no, no, no, no -"

Sylvanas opened her mouth to speak, but froze when she caught sight of the mirror. Jaina’s reflection did not match. In the mirror, she still wore her Naval uniform, but there was a sword through her chest. She was bound and gagged, her face a bloodied mess, her eye gouged out, dangling by a rope from her neck. Sylvanas blinked, and the image was gone, replaced by a completely normal reflection once more.

Beside her, Jaina was panting now. Her hands flew to her throat. She started tugging at the cravat, ripping it free and gasping as though struggling to breathe. Sylvanas tried to manoeuvre herself into Jaina's sight, stepping between her and the mirror so she could not look at herself again. Wary, she reached out and gently grasped Jaina’s shoulders.

“Listen to me,” she said, keeping her voice low and calm. “You are awake. You are alive and you are safe.”

Jaina flinched.

“Do you want me to leave?” Sylvanas asked.

Immediately and fervently Jaina shook her head. She grabbed hold of Sylvanas’ arms as if afraid she might go anyway.

“All right,” Sylvanas murmured. “I will stay.”

Jaina’s breathing still came short and harsh and fast. Her fingers dug into Sylvanas’ forearms, clinging to her as though she were the only thing keeping her afloat. The cravat was a mess of silk hanging around her neck like a noose that had not yet been tightened, revealing the ropey scar tissue of her throat, bracketed by her high collar.

After a few minutes where the only noise in the room was Jaina’s sharp gasps for breath, Sylvanas said idly, “You know, Lucille wants me to wear a tailcoat to this military ball you’re throwing tonight. She was very adamant, but I think I would rather die a fourth time than wear that drab. What do you think?”

Jaina had hung her head, and now she lifted it to blink at Sylvanas in muddled confusion.

Sylvanas gave Jaina’s shoulders a comforting squeeze. “Shall we show them what it means to have real taste? You can wear the deer skull, and I, the foreign armour with spikes. We will be the scandal of the capital on your first day as Lord Admiral.”

At that Jaina gave a weak huff of laughter. She nodded, closing her eyes and trying to take a deeper breath. Her pulse was a rapid rhythm at her neck, fluttering beneath the skin, but her breathing began to slow. Finally she managed to say, “Keep talking.”

“Now, that is an invitation you are going to regret.”

Sylvanas spoke. She kept the topics inane and rambling. The latest news from Durotar. Some juicy outdated gossip about a few of the noble families at the old court of Silvermoon. A humorous war story about a lance corporal who was literally caught with his pants around his ankles during a night exercise. The last was a tale she had always reserved for dinner parties to make the more uptight people in the room laugh and relax. She hadn’t needed to employ it for years.

Jaina wasn’t smiling though. Over the last few minutes she had gotten her breathing under control. She swallowed thickly and rasped, "I can't do this."

"Yes, you can."

Jaina shook her head. She was staring down at their feet. "No. No, I'm going to be bad for Kul Tiras. These people deserve better than me. I can't. I'm not the right person."

"There is no other person,” Sylvanas insisted. "And you know what is bad for Kul Tiras? More conflict. More fighting. More death. You have already stopped that."

"I will make it worse again. I know I will. I've seen it."

"The ceremony is in just a few hours. They are waiting for you. They want you. They don't want someone else."

But Jaina's voice was watery and weak, like she was choking on the words. "I can't. I'm not - I'm not Derek. I'm not Tandred. I'm not good. Not like them."

"Look at me. Jaina."

When she did not respond, Sylvanas grasped Jaina's chin and nudged her face up so that she was forced to look at her. Jaina's cheeks were wet, her eyes red-rimmed and frightened.

"No, you're not going to be good. You are going to be great," Sylvanas said vehemently. "I have seen it. Not in a dream. Damn the Dream. I have seen it here. In this life. The place where it matters. And I know it to be true."

Jaina was staring at her with wide eyes, utterly silent. It was only after she had finished speaking that Sylvanas realised she was cupping Jaina's face in both hands, tenderly stroking her thumb over one cheek. She tried to let go and step away, but Jaina slipped a hand to the back of her neck and tugged her gently forward.

It was not at all the kiss Sylvanas had expected. Jaina’s mouth was soft and warm, and even a touch fearful. As though she wanted something to ground her, and this was the only thing she could think of doing.

Though Sylvanas would have been lying if she’d said she hadn’t thought of doing this before. Perhaps back at camp, or in that cosy cliffside cabin. When Jaina still did not know how to tie a cravat. When Jaina hadn’t been desperate and crying just moments ago.

Jaina broke the kiss but her hand remained on the back of Sylvanas’ neck. “I wish we hadn’t done that.”

“Why?” Sylvanas murmured. “Did you not want to?”

“No. I did.” They were still close enough that the words ghosted across Jaina’s mouth. Her eyes flickered down and she swayed forward. Sylvanas tilted her head to the side, but Jaina stopped before they could kiss again. Jaina bit at her own lower lip and said, “That’s what’s going to make this next part harder.”

Moving her hands, Sylvanas smoothed down the lapels of Jaina’s greatcoat so that they rested flush against her collar. “I know I gave you some advice about your personal wants and the needs of your nation -”

Jaina chuckled weakly. “It was more of a speech, really.”

“A fantastic speech, I might add.”

“It was very poignant, if I recall,” Jaina agreed.

“I have had many years to practice. Just as you will.” Sylvanas could not justify keeping her hands on Jaina any longer -- her greatcoat was sharp and pristine -- but she let her touch linger nonetheless. “Kul Tiras cannot expect you to be a spinster.”

“No. I imagine not. In fact, I think they’d want me to produce an Heir as quickly as possible.”

“I’m not sure I can help you there,” said Sylvanas dryly.

Jaina’s answering laugh was exhausted. She shook her head. “Unfortunately for them, they’ll be waiting a good long while for anything like that.”

Sylvanas toyed with a burnished button bearing a fouled anchor. “In which case, we are free to entertain ourselves in the meantime.”

Jaina was watching her intently, as though trying to scour her face to memory. Her eyes dropped to Sylvanas’ mouth and fixed there. Her fingertips traced a hesitant line across the nape of Sylvanas’ neck. “I don’t think you’ll want me after I -”

With a soft tug at the lapels of her greatcoat, Sylvanas brought their mouths together again. Jaina made a small noise into the kiss when Sylvanas lightly traced her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. Any hesitation vanished, and suddenly Jaina was gripping her close, one hand at Sylvanas’ hip, the other bunched in her long ashen hair.

Sylvanas had to remind herself to take care, to not rumple Jaina’s outfit or her hair overly much. It was more difficult than it should have been. The slight brushes of Jaina’s skin against her fingertips burned like the noonday sun of her homeland, and the only thing Sylvanas could think of was wanting to reveal more of it, her hands already slipping beneath the greatcoat and settling on the warmth of Jaina’s sides. A heady sensation rushed sluggishly through her, and it took her a moment to give it a name -- it had been far too long since Sylvanas had felt desire like this. Years. Now, it prickled at the base of her spine, crawling up her back as Jaina held her closer.

Slightly breathless, Jaina broke away. Her hand tightened for a moment and something flickered across her face. After a split second of hesitation however, Jaina stepped back, swallowing thickly. “I really ought to finish getting ready. Can we meet here after? We should talk." She gestured between the two of them. "About this. And other things."

Sylvanas nodded. "I will return here before the ball. We’ll talk."

A crowd was gathered on the main docks of the harbour. Banners of all the Great Houses swung in an icy breeze, most prominent among them the green flag bearing the anchor of the Admiralty. Citizens of every stripe huddled together, the gentry rubbing elbows with dockworkers and fullers from Dampwick Ward, finely clothed merchants and ash-streaked farriers, their leather belts draped with rasps and large pliers, fishermen and stevedores with the collars of their worn coats turned up against the chill.

Sylvanas stood well in the back. She did not bother trying to get closer, preferring to remain out of sight, lingering in the shade of a shop awning, which had been abandoned by its owner in favour of watching the ceremony. A sleek frigate was anchored and lashed at the docks. The name ‘Restoration’ was emblazoned across its stern in gold. It was not, so Sylvanas had been informed, a flagship, but it was a perfectly serviceable first-rate. Which, of course, meant it was massive beyond compare, a veritable floating barracks filled to bursting with sailors, marines, and enough gunpowder and shot to blow away a small city.

She did not take her eyes off the ship. Officers stood at attention in their glittering finery, while five figures were arrayed before them. Even had Sylvanas not known who they were, their silhouettes were impossible to misrepresent. Each of the leaders of the Great Houses and Jaina Proudmoore in the very middle of them all, like the focal point of an old painting.

This was not a ship blessing ceremony, but it felt exactly like the one Sylvanas had attended almost exactly a year ago in this very city. The only thing that was missing was the rain. For once, Boralus was merely overcast, pale watery sunlight shunting through a part in the clouds and illuminating the vast stretches of canvas sails.

For all Jaina’s hesitation at the Keep, she stood straight-backed as a pillar now. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her pale hair stark against the dark fabric of her military greatcoat. Beside her, Katherine had a ceremonial sword buckled at her waist, and in a smooth motion she drew it, her gloved hand clenched around the wire-wrapt hilt. She passed the blade to Jaina, who took it without a word. When Jaina held the sword out before her, Lucille was the first to step forward.

Lucille’s words were loud and clear, carrying across the docks as the onlookers watched in a silence broken only by the whistle of the wind and the creaking planks of the ship. “I, Lady Lucille Waycrest, head of House Waycrest, do truly and sincerely acknowledge, profess, testify, and declare in my conscience before the Tides and the world, that Jaina Proudmoore is the lawful and rightful Lord Admiral of the realm of Kul Tiras. I swear that I will well and truly serve the office of the Lord Admiral, and I will do right to all manner of people after the laws and usages of this realm, without fear or favour, affection or ill will. And I do make this recognition heartily, willingly, and truly, upon the Tides.”

After speaking she leaned down in a low bow and kissed the flat of the blade held before her. She stepped back, and Lord Stormsong stepped forward in her place. The same words and rituals were repeated by each of them, ending with Katherine.

Everyone on the docks seemed utterly rapt by this ceremony. Sylvanas tuned out the repetition after the second time they were said. She was too busy studying how striking a figure Jaina cut atop the stern of the ship. She was still thinking about resuming that kiss from earlier -- hopefully with less crying and self-loathing this time -- when she realised Jaina had pulled out a small folded piece of parchment and had started to give a speech.

“...a long road lies before us,” she was saying, her voice carrying too clearly across the chilly air. She must have been amplifying her words with a subtle spell. “And I know that I am not the leader you expected. And though you have had and will have many wiser and stronger Lord Admirals, you never had nor will you ever have one as grateful or as dedicated. There is nothing I hold in higher regard than the well-being of Kul Tiras and its people. Everything I do henceforth will be for you and you alone. This I swear.

“The times shift as the Tides, and in the shadow of adversity all we can hope to do is steer a course that sees us safe and victorious. Which is why, for my first act as Lord Admiral, I will ensure that this nation is a safe harbour for everyone.”

As Jaina continued to speak, Sylvanas could feel a satisfied smirk pull at the corner of her mouth. She did nothing to quell it.

“Effective immediately as voted by the Great Houses, Kul Tiras will open its borders,” Jaina said. “No longer will we drown in our isolation beyond the waves, and instead we will become greater than we ever were alone. I have struck favourable deals with representatives abroad from both the Horde and the Alliance, which will make Kul Tiras a haven to all.”

It took a moment for that statement to register. Slowly, Sylvanas uncrossed her arms and stood straighter as she digested the words. The smile slipped from her face and she hissed, “What?”

Jaina was still talking. She addressed the crowd, refusing to look in Sylvanas’ direction. With every word, the sensation of icy horror gripped at her stomach like a clenched fist. Standing there -- anger rising to rage, then to some ineffable emotion that sang in her jaws -- Sylvanas finally realised that she had been played.

#jaina proudmoore #sylvanas windrunner #sylvaina #you search the mountain #roman writes #drust au #time for me to sleep for one million years

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