Chapter Text
Chapter One
“I don’t really have the time, Vereesa,” Sylvanas sighed, already knowing this was a losing battle.
Her fatal mistake was looking into her sisters' too big, watery eyes and noticing her tragic, despondent pout.
She made one last rally. “The shelter will survive without one week of your donations, Little Moon. Send in double next week.”
Vereesa made a pathetic noise over the phone, her face scrunching up on Sylvanas’ screen. “But they’re so underfunded, Sylv. They need us to help. And I’ve got my hands full with the boys being so unwell, you know I can’t make it…”
Sensing her sister’s weakening stance, Vereesa pushed on. “The shelters only around the corner from you, and you know how much dad wanted us to grow up and be kind and charitable-”
Sylvanas groaned, cutting her off. Anything to avoid that conversation. She much preferred her mothers outlook on life, anyway.
But Vereesa was a force of nature on the best of days, and an absolute natural disaster on the worst of them. Today was leaning towards the latter.
“Fine! Fine. Just stop hassling. Leave the cans on the doorstep - I don’t want to catch the plague from you whilst doing you a favour, okay?.”
Vereesa’s tragic expression transformed immediately, her pitch raising so much as she screeched in delight that Sylvanas’ phone crackled. Sylvanas winced; elvish ears weren’t made for that kind of onslaught.
“Enough, enough! I’ll pick it up after work tonight, okay? When does the shelter close?”
After a few more minutes of back and forth, Sylvanas hung up the phone and slumped backwards, weary. She had a seven hour shift ahead of her at the park, and all she wanted was to be able to launch herself into a cocoon of blankets at the end of the day. Instead, she’d be getting herself covered in animal dander while she dropped off donations from her big hearted, annoying little sister.
Although, she mused, at least I’m not covered in baby vomit.
Sylvanas hefted her bag and set off, already exhausted.
◇◇◇
“What do you mean I can’t camp here?” The rather scruffy looking man had puffed himself up as he spoke to her, and Sylvanas found he looked rather like a bloated piece of roadkill.
Sylvanas leant rather unprofessionally on her rifle. “I mean , there are designated camping sites in this park and this is not one of them.”
The blonde found herself feeling rather irate. She had less than an hour left on the clock and had had full intentions of maybe leaving ten minutes early. Now, she was busy trying to shift an immovable force - otherwise known as the not-so-local population.
“Okay, - what was your name?” She asked.
“Gerry Greentile. Now liste-”
Sylvanas barely stopped herself from snorting before interrupting. She had no intention of listening.
“Well, Greentile. You have exactly ten minutes to pack up your tent and move to an allowed location before I give you the fine of a lifetime, and call the Forest Guard to tell them you were loitering and being unruly.”
The older man gaped at her. She smiled.
“I have never been so insulted before in my life, young lady! The council will hear of this!”
Sylvanas felt her ears twitch with irritation. Considering she was likely a thousand years this human’s senior, the epithet of ‘young lady’ didn’t sit quite right.
But her family had protected these woods for generations, and they had rules for a reason. She pasted on a bland, mildly threatening smile. Opening some of the trails in the Eversong had been one of her mothers worst ideas to date, second only to when she’d arranged a marriage for Alleria.
“Let me see,” She sighed, pulling out her phone, “Lady Liadrin shouldn’t be too far from here. Adept with a gun, but she still prefers her sword, you know?”
Truthfully, she didn’t need to threaten the man with Liadrin. She was more than capable of frightening him with the arsenal of blades she herself held onto despite technology developing around her. Unfortunately, Lireesa Windrunner, the current Ranger General, had forbidden it after one too many complaints of aggressive behaviour from the council.
The memory made her scowl - she’d had her bow confiscated for the last two months because of the little spat that had caused with her mother, and she was very close to committing treason to get it back. A good bow and a bit of magic would always outclass a human rifle. Carrying the gun was as much her punishment as going without her bow was. Her squad had never stopped laughing at her, and the next time she heard them snickering at her she was set to explode.
The man’s stuttering brought her back to the present. “Well - well, there’s no need for all that. I’ll move along, I don’t really like this spot anyway.”
Sylvanas let a slither of fang show. “Perfect. I’ll escort you.”
◇◇◇
Two hours later, she was gunning it out of Silvermoon with a boot full of cat food and toys. There also seemed to be an assortment of blankets. Trust Little Moon to take advantage of her big sister's kindness.
Her little sister lived in the thriving heart of Silvermoon with her husband and children, whereas Sylvanas had remained in Windrunner Spire with her mother. Alleria, after her leave of absence, had been convinced to settle into her own little cabin not too far from the spire, yet still nestled safely in the woods. She was a private woman on the best of days, and a hermit on the worst.
Still a better ranger than Sylvanas felt she would ever be, though. A thought for another day.
The shelter was apparently run by one of the survivors of the Theramore bombing, and was a quaint little building within the local village. She vaguely remembered the fuss of it all ten years prior; a human had requested permission to live within the village. Her mother had approved her for some reason to do with magic, and within a year a small shelter and mage’s shop were being run out of the same building.
She couldn’t really begrudge the shelter’s existence, though. A fair few years ago a visiting embassy had lost a handful of their Ladies’ cats. Within the next five years, the village had had a horrible problem with strays. Now they were safely being desexed and rehomed, at no cost to the Ranger General, and Sylvanas didn’t have to deal with any kind of upsetting reduction programs in the future.
It had been a win overall, despite the strangeness of having a human flitting about her home. She’d never actually seen the mage; she was known for being a little reclusive. Perhaps she’d get along with Alleria.
Sylvanas cracked her neck as she turned the final corner and parked outside the village. Cars were useful for getting between landmarks outside of the forests quickly, and had the added benefit of not needing to bother a mage for a portal, but they weren’t beloved. Sylvanas held a little distaste for them herself, despite using one. They were loud, smelly and destructive machines. They weren’t allowed off their designated roads, and she was glad of it.
Even if it meant she now had to haul multiple bags of supplies to the other side of the village. Of course the mage had chosen the spot as close to the forest's edge as she could. Sylvanas scowled as she began the first trip. Weren’t humans meant to be frightened of big, dark woods and the things that went bump in the night?
Then again, mages weren’t exactly the average human. Known for their bad temperaments, long lifespans and snotty attitudes, a mage's ego often outclassed that of even a Quel’Dorei. No small feat, that.
She sighed. Perhaps she should be less judgmental.
However, it was late, and it was the middle of her off season. During this time she usually only did a few short rotations in the woods, rather than her usual week long treks and full day shifts that she did with her squad the rest of the year.
She was supposed to be relaxing and recuperating. Maybe indulge in some late night… activities with the rest of her squad, as they so often encouraged her to. Instead, the various members of her family had spent the last month sequestering her with chores. She found herself briefly envying Alleria, alone in the woods.
She approached what looked like a quaint, if oversized, cottage, thatch roof and all. It would have seemed out of character for a mage if not for the tacked on tower that had all sorts of mysterious vines growing on it. Sylvanas glared at them reproachfully. If any of those were invasive species she’d throttle the mage herself, consequences be damned.
Dropping her first box of wayward donations at her feet, she raised her hand to knock only for the lights to all flicker on and the door to open. A disgruntled young woman who absolutely reeked of mana stared out at her, irate.
“Visiting hours are over.” The statement was said so severely, Sylvanas almost didn’t notice the white haired woman was in her dressing gown.
Almost.
She arched an eyebrow. “A bold thing for a human living in my village to say.”
The mage snorted. “So you’re Vereesa’s sister. She warned me you would be coming. Glad to see you’re as cranky as she says.”
Sylvanas sputtered. “Cranky? You’re the one spitting vitriol in your nightclothes!”
The mage barked a laugh. “It’s late. Now come in, before I write to your mother to tell her you have a bad attitude. I’ll help you with the supplies.”
It took the two women remarkably little time to bring in the assortment of goods, especially with the strange woman’s magic helping her.
Finally, she stood awkwardly on the threshold of the mages home, her task completed. She hesitated before beginning to move away, when she was stopped.
“Would you like a cup of tea? I should at least let your sister know I’ve offered the proper hospitality.”
Sylvanas winced but hid it well. Human and elven hospitality were very different things, but she didn’t want to cause any more offence. A letter to her mother was actually a more damning threat then she thought the mage realised.
She sighed. “Very well.”
The opposing woman’s eye twitched at her resigned tone, but she nonetheless led her deeper into the cottage. Arcane spilled off of the very walls, and as they stepped into the kitchen, Sylvanas saw the first of the many cats.
Gathered in the kitchen for what seemed to be magically heated flooring, the strange little beasts had claimed most of the space for the night. There was such a large variety of them that Sylvanas felt her eyes blur a bit, if only for a second. How could someone fit so many animals in such a small space comfortably?
A nearby tabby hissed at her, and she bared her fangs back. A soft giggle caught her attention, and she whipped her head around to stare accusingly at the mage in question.
However, any incriminating expression had already been wiped off of the woman’s face, and she was now serenely setting up a tea pot and a plate of biscuits.
“I’m Jaina, by the way. Mage and crazy cat lady, it would seem. Makes sense though. Cats are drawn to the arcane just as badly as you Quel’Dorei are.” The white haired woman – Jaina – smiled at her before Sylvanas could take offence, and the elf felt it like a blow to her gut.
She had a pretty smile.
“I’m Sylvanas,” She said, recovering as best as she could.
“I know,” was the only reply she got.
They stood in silence for a moment before Jaina picked up the tray and strode off, leaving Sylvanas once again off kilter. What a bizarre woman.
Lirath would adore her.
Bewildered, she slowly followed Jaina and tried not to pay too much attention to her shapely form. The thin bathrobe didn’t hide nearly enough, and Sylvanas was a woman of taste.
Belore, that’s enough. This was meant to be a contactless drop off! Drink your tea and make your escape before it’s too late.
The living room was filled with yet again more cats, and Sylvanas stifled yet another sigh. It's not that she hated cats, but she certainly didn’t like them. Jaina sat down comfortably in an overstuffed armchair, tea set on the low table in front of it. She gestured impatiently to the couch across from it, and Sylvanas slunk over.
She blinked owlishly. A small, thin kitten looked up at her with ears too big for it’’s head. She flapped her hands at it and was promptly ignored. A second attempt resulted in a nipped finger and a plethora of curses spilling out Sylvanas’ mouth. She hissed through her teeth and the belligerent creature had the indecency to close its eyes and look away from her.
A breathy laugh and a sudden warmth next to her had her nearly jumping out of her skin. Surely the mage wasn’t so sneaky?
“That’s Lune. He’s only young, but was really sick when I found him. I’ve had a lot of trouble getting him adopted actually.” Jaina spoke gently. There was a level of care in her voice that hadn’t been noticeable before now.
“He’s a menace,” Sylvanas retorted, wagging her bitten finger in front of Jaina’s nose.
Jaina rolled her eyes and reached over, picking up the cat with ease. Her breast brushed against Sylvanas’ forearm and she had to forcibly remind herself to think pure thoughts.
Belore, but Jaina was a stunning woman.
Not that it mattered. Sylvanas had other priorities right now. In fact, she even had a date – with her mattress and heaviest blanket. She was very late for that little arrangement, actually.
Begrudgingly she sat down and eyed Jaina accusingly from behind her hair. The mage sat back down, kitten on her lap, completely oblivious to her elven guest’s ire. It was obviously her fault Sylvanas was distracted. She was the epitome of self control, so it was only reasonable to expect some strange magic was being worked on her.
The only magic here is your natural born weakness for women. The voice in her head sounded a lot like Alleria, so she ignored it, as was best practice when dealing with the grouch.
Sylvanas picked up her tea and eyed its dark colour with suspicion. It smelt nothing like the fruity tisanes her family preferred, but she took a sip nonetheless. Her eyebrow twitched.
As predicted, it was awful.
Jaina seemed to find this incredibly amusing. “You look a bit like a put upon kitten yourself, with your ears all the way down like that.”
Sylvanas blinked once, mildly outraged. Her ears shot straight back up, unknowingly catching Lune’s attention. The kitten wobbled it’s way off of Jaina’s lap and began its way back to Sylvanas, but she ignored him.
“It’s the height of rudeness to comment on an elf’s ears, you know,” she seethed.
Jaina rolled her eyes. “No it isn’t. I believe as Vereesa put it, ‘ Ranger’s are over emotional and vain. Myself included. Especially about our ears.’
‘If it makes you feel any better, your droopy ears are attached to a rather cute elf, especially when she pouts.”
Despite the compliment mixed in, Sylvanas chose to hyperfixate on the insult. She couldn't handle thinking about the ‘cute’ comment right now. “I do not pout - I am the next Ranger General of Silvermoon, I deserve some respect.”
Jaina smiled. “Why of course. Dearest next Ranger General, shall I beg for your forgiveness? Shall I lay an offering at your shrine? Should I visit your sister in the woods and pray she intercedes on my behalf? Perhaps I could beseech Vereesa into revealing your majestic lordships fav–”
“Enough! No wonder Vereesa gets along with you. You’re despicable,” her glare was half hearted, though, and her words held no real edge.
The mirth dancing in the mage’s eyes was nearly as comforting as the arcane dripping off of her.
Of course, no good thing lasts forever. The little terror chose violence in that moment, and launched itself at her. She swore again, catching it by the scruff and holding it away from her.
She gave the shelter owner an accusing look. “This is your fault.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Jaina said placidly, sipping on her tea and curling up in her chair. “He seems to like you.”
“Yes, well that’s too bad for him. He can – oh, he only has three legs.” Sylvanas exclaimed.
The kitten was now staring at her with big, watery eyes that seemed impossibly sad. He was missing his back leg on the left, and his egregiously fluffy tail flicked a little, undermining his trickery. Sylvanas would not be fooled into sympathy, no matter how fluffy his ears were or how many legs he lacked.
She wouldn’t be. Not at all.
“Well, yes. I couldn't save it by the time I found him. He’s recovered incredibly well, even though he’s a bit thin. Really, you should hold him a bit better, Sylvanas.” Her tone turned chastising, and Sylvanas flinched a little, feeling guilty.
She lowered the kitten to the arm of her chair but tucked a finger into his collar to stop him from getting too close. She didn’t want any more cat fur than necessary on her leathers.
Still, she couldn’t help but ask. “Is this why you’re struggling to get him adopted?”
It was Jaina’s turn to sigh. “Yes, unfortunately. A lot of people here have big, airy houses and sizable barns. They want mousers, and refuse to believe he’s just as fast as any other cat. I worry though. I want him to find his person, you know?”
For a second, Sylvanas sympathised with Jaina. She knew a lot about wanting people under her care to succeed. And then the bewitching young woman just had to get a sly look in her eyes, and suddenly Sylvanas felt very trapped.
“You know, he’s taking quite the shine to you.” Jaina began.
“Has he?” Sylvanas deadpanned. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Jaina ignored the blatant warning in her voice. “And I’m sure the publicity of the next Ranger General adopting a kitten would not only do wonder’s for her own image, but that of the shelters… Think of all the good energy you could create, with such a simple action.”
Jaina, the traitor, was rummaging through what looked like a stack of adoption certificates. A wave of her hand had a pen materialising.
“Absolutely not,” Sylvanas seethed. “I refuse, mage. I have no need for a three legged cat!”
◇◇◇
Three hours later, a disgruntled Sylvanas was sitting on her bed, glaring at the kitten trapped across from her. She’d managed to construct a pen of sorts, to at least keep the monster contained for now. She already mourned her most expensive silks and furs, knowing they would soon fall to ruin at the devious paws of her newest charge.
“I hate you,” She said balefully.
Lune meowed and let his too-big ears droop flat against his head. Sylvanas looked away and pretended her heart hadn’t lurched a little at his pathetic display.
Yes. Pathetic. He’s a horrible beast, and I despise him.
Her phone buzzed and snarled, knowing already that it would be her conniving youngest sister. She picked it up anyway, considering the merits of blocking her and the consequences she would face for such a thing.
Making Vereesa cry had always led to Lireesa Windrunner enacting one of her more creative punishments. When they were children, Sylvanas and Alleria had always found themselves saddled with the most peculiar chores after pranks had gone wrong. Well, until Alleria had married, had a child, divorced, and left to enjoy her own company for a while.
However, the message that was awaiting her caused her heart to lurch, not in anger but nervousness.
Thanks again. BTW, here is Jaina’s number. She wanted me to pass it on, and said you were interesting.
….
Alsooooooooo~
Is it true you got a cat?! THE Sylvanas WIndrunner has a three legged kitten??
Sylvanas flopped back on the bed with an over exaggerated groan. Lune meowed in response, and she called out to him.
“What have you gotten me into, you little menace?”