#bfa au

(I just finished reading the novel Rise of the Horde, and it inspired me to write some hero vs. the Horde kinda thing. Which turned into this. Canonical for Draggka’s story. Enjoy!)

So it comes down to this, does it? Draggka thought bitterly, taking her bow from her back. Well, then here we go. Spirits watch over me.

Spike’s lips curled, baring his teeth, but he stifled his growl as he and his hunter approached the clearing. If they were lucky, they’d fall upon the rambling dark ranger and her deathguard-

“Ya ain’t got a shred of honour between ya!” Zekhan burst out of the undergrowth with a shout, unable to contain himself. Draggka silently cursed the younger one’s hot-headedness, but she rose from the gloom to back him up. “How ya gonna turn ya backs on Saurfang, after all he’s done for da Horde!”

Heads of the Forsaken deathguards and Dark Ranger Lyana whipped around to see the trolls, the brief surprise in her red eyes quickly snapping back to fury.

“Champion. I thought I gave you an order to take no further action until you heard from me again.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you and this troll so willing to defy your warchief?”

Draggka didn’t know where the emotion came from - perhaps some of her lifemate was rubbing off on her - but it rose within her, and it made the troll’s lips curl into a sardonic grin. She lifted her chin up, staring into Lyana’s eyes.

“My Warchief be dead,” she said. “I watched his body burn on da funeral pyre afta da fel-poison took his life.”

(Not a conventional Valentine’s fic, but it’s got Draggka and Khadgar being sweethearts to each other, so it counts! I consider this a partner piece to Quickening, though it’s set after that one. Enjoy!)

(Tagging: @highpriestessbriyanna. @elfgirl931, @fer8girl, @galleywinter and @sigurdjarlson)

“I still tink dat we be better off try’n break da sword down into smaller pieces, den slowly pull it from da wound.” Draggka said, looking up at the mage that paced by her position on the couch. “Dere be no way we can be pulling dat sword out in one go. It be takin’ you and da whole Council to move Dalaran. Don’t tink even all of ya, Jaina and Medivh could shift it right now.”

“I understand, and you’re right about us lacking the power to move it in its current form, but we still don’t know how deep the blade goes.” Khadgar replied, stepping carefully over Spike’s tail. “It is clearly deep enough to cause Azeroth to bleed, and provoke Azerite eruptions across the surface of the planet, but we need to know exactly how deep. We cannot afford to shatter the sword and leave fragments of it inside Azeroth. It is bad enough we have Old Gods buried within her, without pieces of Sargeras’s sword in there too.”

“But we drained it of its dark energy.” The hunter said. “It be as dead as a rock.”

“Yes, well. Our Gul’dan was dead, but his skull was still a powerful demonic artifact - indeed, Illidan’s powers were taken from it.” The wizard pulled a face. “And it talked to me.”

“Tink dat might be a feature of da skulls of demons. Remember Thal’kiel, dat skull dat Liz were using against the Legion?” Draggka said, shifting position. “Apparently he were very talkative.”

“That doesn’t exactly bring me comfort, dearest.” Khadgar remarked dryly. He sighed, closing the book he had in his hands. “Light curse Sargeras. I thought that maybe, maybe...”

Draggka sat up, reaching to take one of mage’s hands, squeezing it gently. He glanced down at her, a smile pulling at his lips.

“I’m sorry, love. You don’t want to listen to me complain about Sargeras for umpteenth time,” he said, setting the book aside and moved over to the couch she was lying on, Spike opening one blue eye to regard him.

“Still be better den Nathanos grumbling ‘bout da Zandalari fleet, or makin’ remarks ‘bout how I somehow don’t be havin’ time to help da ‘Honourbound’ out.” Draggka replied, rolling her eyes as Khadgar lifted her feet up to sit down, setting them in his lap. “No doubt he now be whining ‘bout me going on leave for da baby.”

“Champion of the Banshee Queen or not, even he cannot demand you charge into battle with a belly swollen with a child.” Khadgar said, his eyes tracing down her legs to the troll’s rounded stomach. “Hmm. It's only been a a week, but I’m sure its gotten bigger. When you first came to Karazhan, one could have mistaken it for gut rot. Now it is clearly a pregnancy.”

“I thought so too.” Draggka nodded. “Armour be gettin’ uncomfortable before I came here. Little adjustments were fine, and it be easily hidden, but now? No, dere be no way to be wearing armour witout people knowing.” She ran a hand over her stomach. “I couldn’t be risking it. Not any more.”

“I do wish it hadn’t taken an Alliance attack on Dazar’alor to bring you home to us.” Khadgar said, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. “When I felt you contact me after the battle, and your first communication was ‘I’m alive’-” He shook his head. “Light, Draggka, I dropped everything to get to you. If I’d known what was happening I would’ve-”

“Ya would’ve gotten yaself killed.” The hunter said, steel in her voice. “Like I said back den. Da Zandalari would have attacked ya for bein’ human, as would da Horde. Dat’s why I hid it from ya.” She sighed, Spike lifting his head up from the ground to rumble sympathetically. “I broke my heart to be lying to ya. But I needed to be keeping ya safe as well. If I lost ya, I...”

She stopped herself from completing that sentence. Her mate did not need to know that he and their child were one of the few anchors keeping her on Azeroth.

“We be here now.” Draggka said instead, her other hand going to pet Spike’s head, avoiding his knowing gaze. “I promise, I not be goin’ anywhere else now.“

“I would hope not.” Khadgar replied. “Even when you said you were taking leave, you stayed to help Talanji undertake trials to become Queen, and then you went and spoke with the Lich King!”

“I be owing dat to her and Vol’jin!” The hunter spat back, her fur prickling at his tone. Spike whined, and she sighed, her ears drooping. “I be sorry, Khadgar. I...I know ya be my mate, but...dey be my people. Dey be my family for a long time, before Dranka came home. Before you. Vol’jin still be my Warchief in my heart.” She stroked her thumb listlessly against his hand. “I’m sorry. Curse dis war. Curse dis war and Sylvanas for making me choose between my people an’ my family.”

“I know.” Khadgar replied, breathing out his own sigh. “I know. You know how I feel about it all. I’ve only just found you, a love I’d never thought I’d have in my life, and I...I’m so frightened of losing you. Of losing our child. I want to lock you in Karazhan to keep anything from happening to you. But I know that you need to be free. Your honour drives you to protect the people of Azeroth and the Horde - one of the many reasons I fell so deeply in love with you. You cannot stand by when they suffer, selflessly throwing yourself into danger again and again for them. Especially as dark clouds gather within their ranks once more.”

His fingers gently interlaced with hers, the golden band on his ring finger glinting in the light.

“I don’t begrudge what you did. I understand why. I only selfishly wish that you’d put yourself first a little more. Or rather, you’d put me first.” He smiled weakly, lifting a shoulder. “A flaw in my character, I’m afraid. I’m rather scared of losing things I care about.”

“So am I.” Draggka replied, a slight smile on her lips. “I understand, Khadgar. I know why ya be mad. I were upset when ya be throwing yaself into dose tings when we be fightin’ da Legion. It only be fair dat ya be upset when I be doin’ da same.”

“In my defence, you are carrying our child too,” he said, tapping her stomach with a spare finger. “Regardless of how strong trolls are, and you in particular, I can’t help but worry.”

“I know, I know.” She squeezed his hand again. “But, it be enough adventuring for me for now. I be putting myself first now, like ya wanted me to.” And thankfully, away from Sylvanas.

“Mmmhmm.” The mage hummed, raising an eyebrow. “I will believe it when I see it. No doubt your need to wander will return, and I will make myself available as an escort when it does.” He smiled warmly. “I intend to make sure you don’t give me any more sleepless nights.”

Spike gave a dismissive snort, glaring at Khadgar as if he’d just been insulted. The mage chuckled.

“No, Spike, I wasn’t insinuating that you cannot protect her yourself. You’ve done a fine job getting her this far, after all. It is more to ease my own anxieties, than accuse you of being negligent in yours.”

The raptor looked very disbelieving at that, but he seemed to accept the explanation and rest his head back down on the floor again.

“You two gobble like mother turkeys.” Draggka commented, unable to stop the smile playing on her lips. “Even wit da baby, I can be lookin’ afta myself, ya know.”

“I recall you bursting into tears when you saw Medivh replace one of the chained books in the library.” Khadgar replied. “Something about ‘what did they do to deserve that’?”

“Dat has nothing to do wit being able to take of myself!” Draggka pointed accusingly at the now smirking mage. “An’ ya shouldn’t be chaining books anyway. Not unless dey be dose aggressive flappy ones.”

“They’re precisely the ones that are chained, dearest.” He replied, clearly amused. “With Medivh and I here, we no longer need to rely on their enchantments to keep thieves at bay. That, and we need to protect them from your arrows and Spike’s teeth.”

Both hunter and raptor snorted, the former pulling her hands away to fold her arms in a sulk, the latter glaring up at him.

“I be coming here to rest, an’ all ya be doing is being mean to me.”

“Oh come now, I’m only teasing.” Khadgar’s smirk became one of his winning smiles, one that made his eyes twinkle and Draggka’s heart flip in her chest. “If you cannot spar with your arrows, I at least wish to offer you sport with our words,” he said, pulling his gloves off and setting them aside. “And if you wish to rest instead, I would be more than happy to give you comfort too.”

With that, he began to rub the troll’s feet, tenderly massaging her sore soles. Draggka tried to hold her grumpy pout and sulk, but she couldn’t help but groan in relief at the touch of the mage’s warm hands.

“Does that feel better?” He asked softly, making sure to give her toes the same attention.

“Yeah...Much better. Tank you.” Draggka sighed, laying her head back down against the arm of the couch.

A now familiar flutter of movement arose in her stomach as her baby rolled over, seemingly in reply to her relaxation. Khadgar caught the look on her face, tilting his head questioningly.

“Dey be on da move again,” she said. “I tink dey be- Ow!” The troll winched as she was suddenly struck by a random limb into her more sensitive innards. “Dere was no need for dat!”

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” Khadgar asked, reaching for her, hand hovering anxiously over her stomach.

“Yeah, I be fine, dey just be givin’ me a punch. Or a kick, I don’t-” Draggka suddenly paused, a thought clicking into place. “Khadgar, ya hand.”

She quickly grasped him, settling his palm over the last impact site. “Come on, little one, let ya father know dat you be here.” He’s been trying to sense you for months, please give him this.

Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, Khadgar pressing his hand in as firmly as he dared for even the slightest twitch their unborn child could or would make. Disappointment was just starting to crease the mage’s face when the baby finally moved again, and Draggka felt it punch out directly under his hand. The look on her life-mate’s face was, for the lack of a better word, magical. His whole face lit up, his eyes widening and he gasped, lips stretching into a beaming smile.

“Draggka! I, I felt it! Our child, our baby just kicked! They just kicked me!” Khadgar may have looked the ripe old age of eighty, but his excitement shaved the years off him to almost a tender twenty, and his joy was delightfully infectious. He reached over, wrapping her in a hug and pressing a sloppy kiss to her lips, not caring if her tusks dug in his cheeks and chin, before he leant down to her stomach.

“I felt you, young one! Your daddy felt you kick me!” He cooed, almost pressing his face into Draggka. “Oh, I love you so much. You’ve still got a little way to go before we’ll see you properly, but I can’t wait. I love you. I love you and I love your wonderful mother who’s carrying you right now.” Khadgar glanced back up at the troll, still grinning from ear to ear. The hunter couldn’t help but start laughing.

“Oh you, ya be ridiculous!” She reached forward, ruffling his hair and making him chuckle. “Ya hear him, little one? What a charmer ya father be? You’ll love him when ya see him. We both be loving ya wit everyting we have. Jus’ don’t be kicking me too hard, dat not be fair.”

“Yes, be good to your mom.” Khadgar said. “She’s been through a lot, including growing and hauling you around, so don’t make her job any harder for her, okay? Do it as a promise to your daddy, okay?”

“If she be anyting like you, she be takin’ dat as a challenge.” Draggka grinned.

“Actually, I’m sure that will be your blood talking.” Khadgar replied, grinning back. “Thank you, Draggka. I...” He glance down at her stomach, then back up, utterly speechless. “I love you.”

“Love ya too, Ba’la.” Draggka grinned back, before he pulled her back into an energetic, loving kiss.

“Light, Draggka.” Khadgar suddenly said as he pulled away, cupping her cheeks. “I’ve got to tell Medivh. I’ll be right back, I promise.” He almost sprang off the couch, bouncing off out of the room crying: “Medivh! Medivh! The baby! I just felt the baby!”

(A quick little thing I wrote off the cuff, set in BFA, just before the Uldir raid. Tagging the people who are interested otherwise tumblr will never let them know: @elfgirl931, @galleywinter, @fer8girl, @sigurdjarlson, @highpriestessbriyanna)

The rain was coming down heavily again as Draggka and Spike made their way through  the streets of Dazar’alor to the local inn, Spirits Be With You. She paid for a drink at the bar and weaved her way past the tables to one on the threshold, letting her watch the rain and others hurrying through the streets.

Spike curled up on her feet, more interested in watching the other patrons in the inn than the ones outside. Though many glanced Draggka’s way, they soon turned back to their own drinks or food - the Horde had been in Zandalar long enough for the Zandalari to become used to their presence. Of course, a few remained that looked down their nose at the Horde (Draggka had heard the whispered comments from the other troll tribes on the Speaker’s Terrace), but their efforts to assist had quietened many of the disgruntled, and many had begrudgingly admitted that at least the Horde’s Speaker was a troll, not like their undead Warchief. (She could sympathize.)

It wasn’t long until the hunter spotted him through the rain storm; the familiar lope of a tiger, crimson mane and blue fur heavy with moisture, brown eyes brightening when he caught sight of her.

“Drank!” Draggka smiled as the feline rose onto its back feet, morphing elegantly back into a lanky troll. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Drak.” Dranka grinned, shaking out his robes before taking a seat next to his sister. “Hey Spike,” he said, patting the raptor laying at Draggka’s feet, and earning a polite rumble in reply.

“You know, Ximo won’t appreciate you getting his floor wet.” Draggka commented, a smile playing on her lips.

“Pfft. I bet he’s used to it. They’d have to be, with all the rain they get.” Dranka replied, raising a hand to a server that looked their way. “Anyway, so long as I’m paying, I’m sure he won’t mind too much.”

“I suppose.”

A brief silence settled between the two siblings as the server brought the druid his drink, Dranka murmuring his thanks.

“So, you’re going to take on G’huun soon.” Draggka said, watching her brother take a sip of beer, her own drink that of sunfruit juice.

“Yeah. If it’s dark enough to corrupt Loa and give Vol’jin pause, we need to destroy it.” Dranka spoke. “And whatever else is lurking in that Titan vault.”

“Sounds like an Old God, if it was protected by those seals.” The hunter nodded. A pause. “I still think I should be with you to take it down.”

“No. We’ve been over this, Drak.” Dranka sighed. “One, it’s an Old God, and shouldn’t be messed with unless absolutely necessary. Two, it’s an Old God that has power over blood.  That’s bad in itself, but what if it gets into the little one? I know you’d survive it, but will they? Could you tell Khadgar you lost your child? Could you live with yourself?”

“I know, I know.” Draggka winced at his hard words, cupping her drink closer. “But I feel bad that I’m not finishing the job for Talanji and her people. And Vol’jin. It doesn’t feel honourable.”

“Well, good thing Talanji doesn’t feel that way.” The druid replied. “You’re the Speaker for the Horde, and she and everyone else knows what you’ve done for the Zandalari. Bowing out of killing G’huun is understandable if you’re ill or injured. And though she knows the truth, she knows that you can’t take a little one into such a place safely.” He raised a hand as Draggka opened her mouth to protest. “Vol’jin would agree. He didn’t raise arms against Garrosh until he was sure he was sure we were safe. He knew we had to flee the Broken Shore, or all be killed.”

He reached out, laying a hand on her arm. “And anyone who says otherwise can go fuck themselves.”

Draggka managed a chuckle at his sharp tongue, patting his hand.

“Maybe don’t say that in the earshot of the Zandalari, Drank,” she said, glancing at the inn patrons. None of them seemed to be listening, or if they were, they didn’t care.

“The ones criticizing you are the same ones that already hate our tribe, so no loss.” Dranka said matter-of-factly, lifting a shoulder. “‘Sides, gives you more time to chill and take some time with Khadgar.”

“Maybe. Knowing my luck, the Consort will be on my ass demanding I do things for the Horde.”

“No. Same rules for Nathanos as with G’huun. If you can’t go fighting an Old God, you can’t go helping and his Queen out.” The druid said firmly, taking a drink. “Let some other Horde champion have the spot-light for a while. I’m sure some of the Mag’har would love to show off for Sylvanas.”

“Mmm, I guess so.” Draggka hummed, speaking quietly. “How long before they turn on her, I wonder. Hopefully they won’t turn on the rest of us too...”

Another silence settled upon them, drinking and watching the rain lash down outside, only drunk patrons and fishermon braving the downpour. As Draggka sat and let her mind drift, she felt something peculiar happen. It was an odd fluttering sensation, as if she’d swallowed some butterflies and they were doing their damnest to get out of her stomach. Gonk’s teeth, I haven’t got time to be ill.

“You alright, Drak?” Dranka asked, his brows creased into a frown.

“I...think so...” Draggka replied quietly, self-consciously touching her belly. “I’ve just be getting these weird feelings in my stomach every now and again. This is about the third time today.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Like...It’s a bit hard to describe. Like...Like I’ve got the jitters, but I’m not worried at all. or like...butterflies. That’s the phrase, right? ‘Butterflies in your stomach’?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Dranka leant back on his bench, looking thoughtful. “So it feels like something is moving in your belly. Something inside you.”

“Yes.” A pause whilst the words slowly sunk in. Draggka’s eyes widened, and she blinked owlishly. “Wait. Is, is it-”

“Do you want me to check?” Her brother asked, his brown eyes holding a kindly yet mischievous look to them, as if he was finding glee in her slow realization. She resisted the urge to punch him.

“Yeah, sure.” Draggka shifted closer to him, loosening some of the catches off her cuirass so she could lift her tunic up enough for Dranka to lay a hand on her stomach. She still wasn’t showing yet, but Draggka was sure it wouldn’t be long before she would have to get creative with her armour, and find some armourers who could keep secrets. As well as consider retiring from combat...

Dranka’s eyes glowed a light blue as he tapped into his powers, and Draggka felt the strange ghostly feeling as his druidic energies flowed into her, searching. Almost in response, the fluttering began again, and a grin spread across her brother’s face.

“Ah, yeah, that’s your baby alright.” He pulled back, the glow fading from his eyes. “Those feelings? That’s the little one moving.”

“Really?” Draggka looked down at her belly then back to him with wide eyes, the thought having trouble really settling in her head. She’d been feeling her baby - her and Khadgar’s baby - moving inside her. The small, precious, fragile life within her. “I need to tell Khadgar.”

“He won’t be able to feel it just yet.” Dranka said quickly. “You can feel the movements because the baby’s in you. But it’s too little for anyone on the outside to feel yet. Probably why you didn’t really notice until now.”

“I guess. But I’m going to tell him anyway.”

“He’ll be thrilled to hear, I bet.” Dranka smiled, his eyes bright like hazel gemstones. “Though I doubt he’s ever going to stop touching your stomach afterwards.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!” Draggka giggled, more so when the druid rolled his eyes. “How’s the young one doing, anyway?”

“Perfectly fine, Drak. Nothing to concern yourself with.” He spoke, waving a hand. “Let’s keep it that way, yeah?”

“Of course.” Draggka nodded, lifting her drink in a toast. “For my child.”

(This is some very self-indulgent AU stuff. Extremely self indulgent, and extremely AU. But I had to write it to stop the plot bunny from bothering me any more. Also I believe @galleywinter was especially interested in this?)

“Khadgar! It is good to see you.” Anduin said. The archmage bowed to him, taking the proffered hand to shake.

“You too, your Majesty,” he said. “It has been a long time since the King of Stormwind set foot in Dalaran. If you don’t count your father after he...abdicated, of course.”

“Well, he didn’t exactly come on a royal visit.” Anduin admitted, sharing the sad smile on Khadgar’s face, and noting the hollowness in the archmage’s eyes. How old was he now, fifty? He would soon match his outward appearance. “Although, neither is this. Has the Warchief already arrived?”

“Not yet.” Khadgar replied, gesturing for the King to follow him. “But she will be here soon. I decided upon the gardens as it is a fair distance away from both enclaves, unlike Krasus’s Landing, which shares a wall with the Horde district.”

“As you said in your correspondence.” Anduin said, glancing back at his small retinue of guards. “I confess, Khadgar, I’m not exactly confident in this. Sylvanas was ousted from power and delivered to the Alliance for judgement, but the Horde has committed grievous crimes, and we have no information as to who has taken the throne. My spies have only reported rumours or...not reported in at all.”

“I understand your misgivings, especially with your spies suddenly going silent. But considering she bargained for peace, and handed the Banshee Queen and what remained of her...’Prince’ over, I would presume it’s a good start to peaceful negotiations.” The mage commented. “That and her suggestion to meet on neutral territory.”

“Yes. It is a show of good faith...” He eyed Khadgar suspiciously. “You seem to know an awful lot about this mysterious new Warchief. Too much.”

The archmage just smiled knowingly, blue eyes sparkling.

“We all have our secrets, your Highness. And our sources.” Before the young king could ask more, Khadgar seemed to freeze, his eyes focusing on something Anduin could not see. They seemed to glow slightly, as did what appeared to be runes inscribed on the mage's collar that he hadn't noticed before. Had they always been there? "She's here. A moment, please."

The older man vanished in a flash of arcane magic, leaving Anduin feeling he was missing a big piece of the puzzle. Khadgar was clearly sitting on something, but for all the mage’s habit of being reckless and eccentric, he wouldn’t do anything to put Anduin in true danger. He trusted him.

Anduin closed his eyes and murmured a soft prayer to the Light. It hadn’t steered him wrong yet, and it didn’t feel like it was changing its pattern this time.

The sound of footsteps made him open his eyes to see Khadgar leading the Horde party into the gardens. It consisted only of a retinue of guards, mirroring what had been agreed in the letter, and Anduin noted they seemed to be almost entirely female, representing every race in the Horde (including, surprisingly, a Forsaken caster).

It was only when they came to stop in front of him (Khadgar moving to the side respectfully), did Anduin finally get a look at the Horde’s new Warchief. She was a female troll, shorter than her other compatriots, but she still carried herself with their same pride, dressed in what had to be formal wear for her race, similar to what he’d heard the Zandalari described as wearing. It was a dress that seemed quite bulky, masking the shape of the troll’s body underneath, decorated with gold filigree and abstract images of what had to be her Loa.

Her bright red hair was worn up in a mohawk, with four braids hanging down over her braids, decorated with black raven feathers, whilst her ears were pierced with a pair of gold rings each, and the right nostril of her nose also had a ring in it, a gold chain linking it to one of her earrings. At her side was a large red raptor with intelligent blue eyes, who regarded Anduin calmly, despite its hide been covered in scars.

The troll’s orange eyes met Anduin’s blue, and a memory stirred. She seemed familiar, and he was sworn he’d seen her before. Known her, even. What was her name...

She smiled at him, a small, but earnest one.

“Ya look well, Ya Majesty,” she said in her Zandali accent, and it clicked.

“Draggka?” Anduin said incredulously. “You’re the Warchief of the Horde now?”

“Dat be me.” Draggka replied, bowing her head slightly.

Anduin give Khadgar a look, all the pieces falling into place.

“You knew it was her all along.”

“Yes. I’m sorry Anduin, but I was in no position to let you know.” Khadgar said, looking genuinely abashed. “Regardless of my neutrality, most in the Horde see me as an Alliance hero, and with my mate now as Warchief, there were concerns that I was going be a...’malign’ influence. In order to allay their concerns, I had to pretend to be as clueless about the Horde’s new leadership as you. I am also as far divorced from their affairs as possible, unable to influence anything aside from offering the Warchief advice.” A smile played on his lips. “As far as the Horde views me, I am the Warchief’s consort. No more.”

Anduin looked back to Draggka.

“When I returned Saurfang to the Horde, I did not expect the result to be...this. How did you end up here?”

“I be sufferin’ through Garrosh. I were not gonna let myself be a pawn of Sylvanas. Not when Azeroth be dying.” Draggka replied. “Da Horde I believe in be worth fighting for, so I did. It not be my idea to be takin’ power at first. But afta talkin’ wit Saurfang and de others...” She took a breath. “I be havin’ da best chance of turnin’ da Horde in da right direction, witout Go’el.”

“I see.” Anduin nodded, his face grave. “You do understand the Horde has to suffer consequences for what happened in the War though, don’t you?”

“I be painfully aware.” Draggka sighed. “It be difficult to be makin’ up fer da Burning of Teldrassil. Even if we handed ya da agents of its destruction, we still be on da hook for it.”

“Yes, but the Alliance appreciates the gesture in you handing her over to us.” He glanced to Khadgar again. “I assume her method of imprisonment was your doing?”

“I suggested the use of an arcane prison.” The archmage said, lifting a shoulder. “But it was the sin’dorei who provided the means. I only offer advice, remember.”

“I be more den willing to talk peace wit ya Anduin because I trust ya to be fair.” Draggka spoke. “But ya need to know, we already be badly drained. Da war be taking a lot outta us, even wit da Zandalari allying wit us. We be takin’ out Sylvanas an’ her support base quickly, but da consequences be gutting us. Lotta people be turning on Sylvanas, but dere be a good section of da Forsaken loyal to dere Queen.”

“I can imagine.” Anduin sighed softly. “How many remain now?”

“Few.” Draggka nodded to the woman in her ranks, who bowed her head. “Da last val’kyr be slain before we took Sylvanas, so da Forsaken now be da last of da last. Dose dat have accepted dat have stayed. De others...be dead or banished.”

“I see.” Anduin’s mind lingered on Calia for a few moments, but he dismissed it. He had a rapport with Draggka, and didn’t want to damage it so early. He’d made that mistake once before. “Perhaps we should go somewhere else, if we are to discuss the details of peace agreements.”

“Dat be fair.” Draggka nodded, turning her head to Khadgar.

“Very well. The Council Chambers should be free at this time, so I’ll open a portal there.” Khadgar said, weaving his magic. “Assuming you two will want to sit down to talk?”

“If da King of de Alliance doesn’t mind, I be needing to sit. Da fight wit Sylvanas an’ her Princeling be leaving me wit some wounds.” The troll said, her hand self-consciously moving to her stomach.