Chapter Text
Your husband is cheating on you.
Jaina blinks twice at the screen. The in-game message is still there, still visible, not a caffeine-induced 2am hallucination as she'd hoped it might be.
So she fumbles for the mouse to click the user ID instead of blinking at it some more.
Username LindsayRavensun. Character: Bansheequeen-Quel'Thalas [70 Forsaken Archer]
Mutual Friends: None
Alright, if nothing else, Jaina is perennially curious, so she'll bite and see what this troll (well, Forsaken) has to say. Well hello to you too, Lindsay. I'm very well, thank you for asking. Go on then- if you're so clever, what's my husband's name?
The chances of this being a thirteen-year-old wannabe stalker are very high, and maybe she can screenshot this conversation to show her fellow lecturers tomorrow. Jaina yawns, scrubbing at her face with her other hand, preparing herself mentally for some misspelled dick joke-
Arthas Terenas Menethil, comes back almost immediately. His birthday is 13 th June, he works for his father at Menethil Housing Services (4 Krasus Avenue) as deputy company director, and he drives a brand new Paladin Charger, numberplate 4RTH4S. Want me to keep going?
Jaina swallows. Alright, so if nothing else, Lindsay Ravensun is a qualified stalker.
What's YOUR name? How do you know him?
Unimportant. What is important is that you understand that he is a dangerous man. Move yourself and your belongings to safety and only contact him through solicitors. Never meet up with him and NEVER confront him alone. He will hurt you, Jaina, and he has the contacts and the money to get away with it.
And Lindsay knows her name too. Of course she does, she probably knows what colour underwear Arthas has on right now. Actually, speaking of- Is he cheating with you?
No.
Then how do you know he's cheating?
Unimportant.
By the Tides, this is getting a bit annoying. You might think so, Jaina rattles off back at her, grinding her teeth, but it's very important to me. How do I know any of this has any merit?
Where is Arthas right now?
In spite of everything, in spite of the total ridiculousness of a stranger on World of War of all places messaging her about her husband's alleged infidelity, Jaina's stomach drops. She would be lying to herself if she said she didn't think he was capable of cheating. If she hadn't had her suspicions about the many nights he spends away from home. I don't know, she admits. I don't keep tabs on my husband everywhere he goes.
I know where he is, but I can't send photos in-game. The open invitation hangs, unspoken. Jaina swallows. Do you want them?
… Yes. My chat ID is the same as my username. ArchmageofTheramore.
[LindsayRavensun] has gone offline.
Jaina exhales a shaky breath. “What the fuck just happened?” she asks out loud to an empty bedroom. “And why the fuck did I give this nutcase my chat ID?”
A nutcase who knows your husband's name, birthday, where he works and the car he drives, the little voice in her head uncomfortably reminds her. And your marriage has certainly been stale of late-
“No it hasn't,” she tells it, unconvincingly.
Mainly because it has.
It's practically growing mould.
Jaina quits out of the game and runs her hands through her hair, glancing round the PC for where she's put her glass of water. Maybe Lindsay will think better of continuing this charade. And Jaina should too, she has work in the morning, and the most likely scenario as far as Arthas is concerned is that he's had too much to drive home and he's crashed at his father's place for the night, she'll phone Terenas in the morning-
New message from: LindsayRavensun
Jaina's heart pounds.
Slowly, hardly daring to breathe, she reaches for the mouse again, palm slippery on the plastic.
Opens the chat.
“Oh, fuck,” she moans, and drops back in her chair, staring dumbly at the photo of Arthas playing tonsil tennis with a quel'dorei woman.
Well. That. That's proof for the divorce lawyer, at least.
Could she have doctored- But it's his regular spot, the back-most booth in the bar near Arthas' father's office. Even the scratches on the table are present and correct. He's wearing the suit he put on this morning, minus the tie. He has the same zit on his chin as he did this morning. And the same cufflinks.
Jaina's eyes well up. I bought him those cufflinks. Fucking prick. Those were expensive!
The chat box pings with a new message. I'm sorry, Jaina. Genuinely.
The sobs rise in Jaina's throat. All these years. Five fucking years, and he made an oath to her at the altar, he promised, he said-
How long?
I don't know exactly.
Did- did he cheat on his first partner too? The one who passed away?
A pause. Yes. Multiple times.
And how do you know THAT?
Unimportant.
YES IT IS TELL ME NOW
Jaina doesn't realise she's panting until her vision starts to sparkle. She feels unattached, disorientated, cold and hot at the same time. I mean it, Lindsay. She was MURDERED for fuck's sake, the investigation is still open, Arthas LOVED her. You can't just charge into my life and throw that at me and then tell me nothing. I'll find you. I'll make you tell me everything.
You won't.
A fucking challenge? Jaina's nostrils flare. You're not the only one capable of stalking here. I have ways and means. She doesn't. One call and I can have the police hunting you. Do NOT fuck me about. Fuck, maybe she should just head for work now, before Arthas gets home- if he comes home tonight- judging by that photo he's definitely coming tonight the cheating fucking BASTARD-
I'm sorry to be so vague. I wish I could tell you. Your anger is totally justified, and I'm sorry you have to go through this. You deserve better.
Oh. Jaina deflates like a popped balloon. Alright, that was... unexpected.
Truly. I would tell you everything, but Jaina, I can't. For my own safety.
And now Jaina's in Student Safekeeping mode. Are you safe? Do you need shelter? I know of a charity that can help you if you need it.
A pause. You just threatened me and now you're asking if I'm safe?
I'm sorry. I'm in a highly emotional state right now.
Lindsay reacts with a laughing face emoji, then deletes it almost immediately. Jaina can't quite tell why she's so happy that this woman who just exploded her life thinks she's funny, but she'll unpack that later.
He just left. Lindsay flicks offline for a moment, and Jaina holds her breath but then she's back and typing. He said he's going home. I don't know whether he's going back to your house or not.
Tell me if he gets in his car.
A pause. Jaina's heart is hammering.
Yes, he got in his car alone. He was in the Cathedral of Light Bar, by the way, but I suspect you knew that from the photo.
OK. Thank you. And yes, I did. Shit. Shit shit shit. What the fuck is she going to do- Will you be up for a while?
I can stay up if you want me to.
Well. That's oddly sweet.
Thank you. Yes. Please.
Then I will. But please don't confront him. Get out of there before he gets home.
How are you so sure he's dangerous?
I know him. There's another long pause, but Lindsay's still online this time. If he thinks he's about to be exposed, he'll lash out. Please don't confront him under any circumstances. Oh- because you're putting your trust in me (as far as I know), the other woman is called Velonara. She has no idea he's married. Please don't be angry at her, she's just horny and desperate, I'm trying to set her up with someone better.
In spite of herself, Jaina snorts. Is she a friend of yours? Another possible avenue to trace Lindsay through, though the thought of exploiting the information Lindsay gave her on trust chafes.
A friend of a friend. And she can do a lot better. Like you.
You don't know me.
I know that your gut is telling you Arthas is a cheating, lying scumbag, so I know you're smart enough to do way better. Jaina's eyes well up a bit at that. She has to wipe the tears away to read the rest of the message. I also happen to know that you're heavily involved in the Purple Parlour women's shelter and the Theramore survivors' charity, and you use your resources at the University to help them. Oh, and you have two degrees (law and physics). Is that enough, Dr Jaina Proudmoore?
Yes, yes, you're a good stalker, I get it.
Yep. Now get out of there.
Jaina is, indeed, a highly educated woman. Two degrees. A highly successful (and stressful) job. Thousands of hours of charity work and thousands of hours wasted on a game that she's still only average at (spellcaster is hard though, in fairness). And up until tonight, a husband with plenty of accolades to his name too.
And here she is, packing her life up on the say-so of a total stranger, and printing the photo out to lie it on his pillow, and walking out of the back door just as he tiptoes in the front.
-0-0-
Arthas phones her continuously, even after security escort him out of her university building and ban him from the grounds. His family's lawyers are bombarding her inbox with message after message all day at work.
Jaina doesn't read any of them.
She does, however, make her way to the public records building straight away after work, pretends to consider a date with Kalecgos to get into the non-public section (grim), and emerges again with three pieces of information: one, Velonara's phone number; two, there is nobody named Lindsay Ravensun on the entire planet, never mind in Dalaran; and three, the police investigation into the murder of Arthas' former partner, Sylvanas Windrunner, is still open, and that in spite of Arthas' many tearful monologues about the weeks he spent helping the police, the transcripts of his interviews are empty.
Four pieces. Sylvanas' body was never found.
-0-0-
I just thought you'd like to know I'm safe.
Lindsay is immediately online. Jaina smiles before she can stop herself. Thank you for letting me know. I'm glad. Does he know where you are?
No, of course not. I'm in a very nice hotel room. Minibar, fridge, lovely memory foam sofa, all the mod cons.
… Good for you?
Right, she'll have to spell it out. Lindsay, I'm asking if you can come and meet me here.
I don't think that's a good idea.
Really? Like asking me to trust you beyond question, when you can't even tell me your real name?
Silence. Lindsay is still online, but not typing anything. Jaina is suddenly gripped by anxiety that she's gone too far.
I'm sorry.
No, Jaina, I'm sorry. I said before, I wish I could be more transparent with you, but it is a matter of personal safety. I don't know what Arthas would do if he saw me. And he will be looking for you. I know he tried to find you at work today.
Thank the Tides for Illidan the security guard and his muscles. I'm pretty sure he picked Arthas up at one point. But you were in the bar with him the other night?
I wasn't. Velonara got a friend to take that photo.
Ah. Another crumb of information. Then why don't I come to you? That way, you don't even have to leave the house.
Silence.
You seem to be taking this very well, Jaina, is what Lindsay finally comes back with. Your husband of five years has been cheating on you, and you seem more concerned about my identity than anything else.
Oh no, trust me, that particular wall of emotion will hit me sooner or later. Right now I'm taking the advice of my good friends Silvermoon Blanc and Dalaran Red.
Silvermoon Blanc is also a friend of mine! What a coincidence.
Then why don't I pick some up on the way?
Silence again.
Look. You gave me an out of my loveless marriage. I wish I'd had the chance to work with Arthas to try and rescue things, but at least I know now that it would never have worked. My friends think he's still mourning Sylvanas and he went for another quel'dorei woman to fill the void.
I don't think that's the case, but you deserved to know.
Can I ask something?
Yes.
Did Sylvanas know he was cheating on her too? Did you tell her?
Another long, long pause. Jaina watches the minutes tick by on the giant TV screen opposite her bed.
Her phone screen's gone to sleep by the time Lindsay finally responds.
Arthas didn't murder Sylvanas.
The relief that hits Jaina is difficult to describe. An angry ball of different emotions, gratitude that she wasn't married to a murderer, a weird half-disappointment that she didn't just receive more justification to hate him.
And there's something unspoken there too. That makes you sound like you know who did.
Arthas didn't murder Sylvanas, but he tried to.
Jaina freezes.
How do you know? And do NOT say unimportant. This is extremely important. Her sister, her little sister Vereesa, she works at the university for the love of the Tides, I know her.
Does she? What does she do there? Is she happy?
Well. A bit weird. She's a fellow lecturer, she teaches massage therapy within the sports faculty. She talks about Sylvanas all the time. Bit tired since she had the twins, but she seems very happy- and her husband absolutely dotes on her. How do you know he tried to murder Sylvanas?
Twins? Boys, girls? What did she call them?
Lindsay.
A pause. Lindsay's still online.
Lindsay, did you talk to the police? I think someone tampered with the statements. There are no statements, even though I know Arthas was interviewed multiple times. Look at it this way, it's going to make my divorce and your life a heck of a lot easier if he's in prison for murder, isn't it?
I told you, he didn't murder her.
So who did? Do you know where her body is?
Another pause.
Jaina exhales, long and slow. Can I send a taxi to pick you up and bring you here? There's a side entrance. I can tell the staff to let you in. You said I deserved to know Arthas was cheating on me? Then I deserve to know about Arthas trying to kill his former partner. I'll tell you anything you want to know about Vereesa, I've got photos of her twins, I can fill you in on everything.
I don't feel safe in a taxi.
How can I get you here safely?
Tell me the name of the hotel and your room number and I'll get Velonara to drop me off.
Well, Jaina's not going to argue with that. Though she might hide the steak knife from dinner up her sleeve, just to be sure. It's the Krasus' Landing Hotel and Spa. Room number 512.
Alright. Wait there for me.
I will.
And Lindsay goes offline.
Jaina drops her phone on the bed and grabs the clothes scattered across the sofa. She might as well try to restore some semblance of decency to the room, before her world is blown apart yet again by whatever Lindsay has to reveal this time. If this were a true crime podcast, I'd be all over it, honestly, but nope, it's my life.
On nothing but a whim, she checks Vereesa's social media profile for a picture of her and Sylvanas. Maybe a tangible reminder of Sylvanas will help Lindsay open up.
Arthas kept a photo of her on the mantelpiece, him and Sylvanas together for the one Winter's Veil they had (which he liked to remind her of, tearfully, whenever she asked him to help with the housework). That Sylvanas had been stiff and unsmiling, her arm held tight to her side even as the then-Arthas had tried to hold it in both of his own; she'd been feeling unwell, was his excuse, or she'd had a headache, or once he'd admitted that they'd just had a fight (and of course the memory of them fighting had him so distraught he absolutely could not help with the washing up).
But this Sylvanas is beaming. Hugging Vereesa, their hair flying in the wind, the picture of carefree elven radiance, and it makes Jaina's heart hurt to think this woman's life was cut so cruelly short.
And then, because she's already a glass of Dalaran Red down, Jaina promptly fat-fingers her phone and likes the photo.
Vereesa pops online.
Shit! Jaina quickly closes the app and busies herself with tidying, even as message after message pops up.
Jaina! Sorry I missed you today <3
isn't it a lovely pic. We were so happy then. Sylvanas was so happy. Oh Belore now I'm crying (what else is new)
are you alright? Is this something to do with Arthas?
Well, she has to say something. Anything. Hey Reesa! <3 yeah just thought of her out of nowhere haha. Beautiful picture. Sorry to disturb you. Hope all's well! Got to go <3
Jaina? You ok?
Jaina is about to respond but there's a soft, uncertain knock on the door.
“Lindsay?”
“Yes,” a Thalassian-accented voice calls back.
Heart pounding, Jaina pushes herself up, the steak knife still in her sleeve.
She strides over and peers out through the peephole and yes, it is just the one blurry figure, so she opens the door, keeping herself behind it as Lindsay comes through just in case-
Lindsay turns towards her.
The door falls from Jaina's numb fingers, clattering shut.
“Sylvanas?”
Lindsay bolts.
Chapter 2
Notes:
you're all amazing. thank you for your support. <3 i will respond to your comments when i have enough brain to do so, but please know that i read them, and that you all helped an awful lot. you awesome anonymous internet people, you.
have another chapter!
tw for: violence, vague mentions of gore, domestic violence, difficult family dynamics
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The door slams shut behind Lindsay, and Jaina is left blinking at the empty space in front of her where Lindsay- Sylvanas- was.
“Erm,” she says, slowly. “I think you fled through the wrong door.”
“I panicked,” comes the miserable response from the bathroom.
The silence stretches on.
“Do... do you want me to turn the light on, or-”
“No, I'll come out.”
And a slightly red-faced elf emerges, fiddling with the strap of her handbag and looking anywhere but at Jaina.
Jaina's first thought- inappropriate, bad timing, how could you- is that Arthas was punching way above his weight with this gorgeous specimen of elfhood, this goddess incarnate in black lipstick standing in her hotel room, platinum blonde hair in a neat ponytail, spare hand picking at the skin around her (also black oh no that's hot) nails.
Her second thought is just how much alike she and Vereesa look. By the Tides, they must have been two peas in a pod as children-
“Well, it's nice to finally meet you, Lindsay,” she says, unsure how to start this off. “I suppose thanks are in order for your generous tip-off.”
“No need,” Sylvanas says, stiffly. Licks those gorgeous stop it black lips and glances back to the door. “I hope the photo from the Cathedral is sufficient proof.”
“More than sufficient. My lawyer is a very happy woman.”
Sylvanas nods, a quick jerk of her head.
The silence bears down on them again.
“Sylvanas-”
“How did you know?” Sylvanas bursts out. Her hand is white-knuckled on her handbag strap. “Did you trace my IP address? Hire a private investigator? Hack World of War's user database for my email address and phone number-”
“Vereesa has a photo of you.”
Sylvanas' cheeks flare even redder. “Oh. Right.”
“And so did Ar-”
Jaina freezes. Momentarily considers throwing herself off the balcony for mentioning the man who tried to murder Sylvanas within seconds of meeting her.
Sylvanas finally meets her gaze.
“Arthas,” she finishes, voice soft. “I know. It's alright.”
“It's not alright!” Jaina throws her hands up. “He- he tried to- he hurt you! And I just- just went ahead and married him!”
“You didn't know.”
“But how could I not? How could I have missed it? There must have been signs that I missed, it's statistically near impossible that there couldn't have been something-!”
“Because he's a manipulative son of a bitch with the money and the connections to cover his tracks.” There's a weary finality to Sylvanas' voice. “You're not to blame for his actions. You're not to blame for anything. He makes his own decisions. He chooses to hurt people. He made me feel like I had to apologise for him and do as he said and be a good little ghost and I wasn't even there out of choice so Belore help me, Jaina Proudmoore, I will not let you martyr yourself for what that creature did to you too.”
They stare at each other. Jaina's chest feels tight, her throat thick. “What do you mean, you weren't- you weren't there out of choice?” She's dizzy, heart pounding. “How-?”
“Unimportant.”
Jaina jams her arms folded. “Oh for the love of the Tides, Sylvanas.”
Sylvanas looks away, jaw clenched. “He had blackmail material on Quel'Thalas.A shared military exercise in Stratholme that went wrong and left innocents dead. He wanted easy access to Silvermoon's wealthy aristocracy, and my minn'da was not in a position to refuse him.” And she picks the Silvermoon Blanc up and unscrews the top, taking a long gulp straight from the bottle.
Jaina's eyebrows rise.
“I knew men like him. They breed in the gilded cages of Silvermoon, where men guard their power jealously from women who are better than them in every way.” Another swig. “I was his partner in name only. If I denied him all physical contact, eventually, his control would slip. He would find someone else to bed. All I would need was proof, and a judge he hadn't bribed yet.” A third glug. “So I insisted we live in Dalaran. Daddy Menethil had the politicians of Lordaeron in his pocket, but not the Kirin Tor. And as soon as the time was right... I sent in Areiel as a honey trap.”
Jaina exhales slowly. “Always one step ahead. You must be very good at chess.”
“And you need to work on your pick-up lines.” But as soon as the words are out, Sylvanas' eyes widen and she shrinks back into herself. “I... I apologise. That-”
“Well, you're right. Look at what I bagged with them.” Jaina plops down heavily onto the sofa. Pats the cushion beside her but Sylvanas simply stares at her, like a deer in a snare. “Did Areiel not- manage it?”
“She did. The pictures were... iron-clad. There was nothing he could do.” Sylvanas sets the wine bottle down and folds her hands behind her back. “But I made the mistake you did not.”
Her eyes drop to the floor.
“Fool I was, I confronted him.”
Jaina exhales, low and hard. No wonder you were so insistent. “And he doubtless realised you set him up. He's not a complete idiot. Did he... get violent?”
There's no response. Sylvanas' eyes are unfocused.
Slowly, Jaina stands. Walks carefully closer, each step measured, and dares to hold a hand out to Sylvanas.
“You remember the Pandaren knife set in the kitchen?” Sylvanas' voice is low. Her hand twitches towards Jaina's but clenches halfway there. “The one in the carved wooden block? There's a knife missing.”
“Yes, how did you-”
Cold realisation hits Jaina like a bucket of water to the face.
“No,” she whispers.
Anything but-
“He told me he was taking me home so I could discuss this with my minn'da. Drove me out to the tulip fields in southern Eversong.” Sylvanas' voice is strangled. Her chest heaves with each breath. “The Belore-damned coward couldn't even stick around to make sure he'd finished the job.”
“He never fucking finished me off, so that checks out,” Jaina breathes.
Sylvanas hiccups out a sobbing laugh. Stumbles, and Jaina's arms shoot out to wrap round her out of nothing but instinct, and suddenly she's the only thing holding Sylvanas up and Jaina has the arm strength of an overcooked noodle so they stagger backwards together onto the first soft thing they hit.
Which, Jaina realises as she scrambles up, happens to be the bed.
Sylvanas peers up at her through eyelashes sticky with tears, their bodies flush with one another. “Were you hoping I would do a better job?” Tries to laugh and hiccups again.
“I promise, I don't make a habit of suddenly bedding women after listening to their traumatic life stories.” Sylvanas is still blinking up at her. “I'm squishing you. I'm sorry.”
“You're not squishing me.”
“I am definitively squishing you.”
“Maybe a little bit, but it's fine-”
The door bursts open and Flynn Fairwind and Taelia, both dressed as housekeepers, run in with Tasers drawn.
Jaina blinks at them. “That's your undercover gear?”
“Housekeeping takes their job very seriously here,” Sylvanas says faintly beneath her.
“We saw an unknown enter your room, Lady Proudmoore!” Flynn has his Taser aloft in one hand and is wrestling with his pinny in the other. “Is everything under control?”
“I'll say it's under control,” Taelia sniggers.
Jaina pushes herself up off the bed and quickly straightens up, clasping her hands behind her back in parade rest. Behind her, Sylvanas struggles upright, staring between the three humans in utter bemusement. “I did tell you someone was on her way up to the room, Flynn. She's the someone. You can stand down.”
In the silence that follows, she glares pointedly at the Tasers.
“Now,” she adds.
“C'mon, Flynn. I told you everything was fine. You worry too much.” Taelia yanks him backwards and out of the room. “We'll return to our undercover duties. Have a lovely evening, Lady Proudmoore!”
And the door slams shut behind them.
Groaning long and deep, Jaina drops her head into her hands. “You should probably know,” she mumbles through her fingers, “that my parents are the Lord and Lady Admiral of Kul Tiras. The title's mostly for show these days, and they have very little influence in Dalaran, but what I do have is state-sponsored security, whenever and wherever I need it.”
“That's... useful.”
“It is that.” It had grated in her craw to call on them, the last thing Jaina wanted was for her mother to find out she was now a scorned woman, but at least Daelin had offered to disembowel Arthas and hang his remains on the scaffolding outside the Keep, which was sweet, if a little violent. “And those two clowns, unfortunately, were the security.”
Sylvanas chuckles. “At least they're eager.”
“Yes, you could call it that.” Clearing her throat, Jaina turns back towards her. “Do you... need a moment? Something to drink besides wine? They put tissues beside the bed, if you need to wipe your face. Kind of them. If a bit optimistic.”
“I need more than a tissue,” Sylvanas says, eyes dropping to the floor, “but at least I know where the bathroom is.”
Halfway across the room, she pauses. Turns slightly. “I suppose you should know that I've never even told Anya what happened to me. You're a very good listener. And if you'll excuse me for a moment, I need to go and release some adrenaline.” And she wobbles into the bathroom, the door falling shut behind her.
“FUCK YOU, ARTHAS,” comes screamed from within.
Jaina has a fresh bottle of water and a clean blanket ready for her when she emerges, ruddy-faced and holding onto the wall for balance. “Thank you,” Sylvanas says, voice a little ragged, and eases herself down onto the other half of the sofa; Jaina puts the water bottle in her hand and gently, cautiously, rests a hand on her shoulder. “Oh. … Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
“Jaina, you owe me nothing. I mean it.” Sylvanas leans her head back against the sofa, watching Jaina steadily. “I could not stand by and watch you get hurt like I was. You deserve to be safe. He's still pursuing you, isn't he?”
“Of course he is. Him and his expensive lawyers.”
Sylvanas' lips thin. “Of course,” she mutters, and swigs her water.
Jaina rubs her thumb over Sylvanas' shoulder. “He won't dare try anything physical. Not to me. There's too much of a paper trail now. The worst he can do is drag my name through the mud, and that would be irritating, but that I can withstand.”
Nothing compared to what Sylvanas went through, a little voice reminds her.
“And it may also reassure you to know that Flynn and Taelia aren't the only ones watching my back. If Arthas Menethil comes within five hundred yards of wherever I am, he'll... shortly not be within five hundred yards of wherever I am.”
Sylvanas laughs. “Good to know.”
Tides help me, she's pretty when she laughs. “My people are many things, but pushovers we are not.”
“No, I daresay you are not.” Sylvanas looks down at her water, swirling it idly in the bottle. “My sister told me once of a Kul Tiran colleague of hers who punched an orcish man clean off his barstool after he enquired about her bra size.”
The heat rises in Jaina's cheeks. Tides damnit, Vereesa, of all the stories you could tell about me, you picked THAT one-? “Ah, well.” She clears her throat awkwardly. “You'll be glad to know that was, erm, me.”
Sylvanas' head shoots up. “Belore, that was you? We shall have to spar sometime. For some reason, I've been brushing up on my self-defence.”
“Is that when you're not topping the realm leaderboards in World of War?”
“I- Belore take me, you've stalked the stalker.” Sylvanas looks outright impressed. “What did you find out?”
“Top Archer in Dalaran for the last two expansions. I've read your blog, it's superb, totally changed my rotation on my archer alt, she does better DPS than my main now. You should really stream your gameplay, you'd be very popular- oh, of course, you wouldn't want anyone to hear your voice.”
Sylvanas offers her a wan smile. It's still beautiful. Unfairly so.
Even if she looks exhausted.
“I think you stalked me a bit too hard,” comes out of Jaina's mouth before she can stop it. “You look really tired.”
“I haven't slept. Since...” Sylvanas' words trail off. “Since,” she finishes, a little limply.
“Since you sent me that message on World of War?”
Sylvanas nods.
“You can have the bed. I haven't slept in it and you look dead on your feet.” Jaina's already on her feet, pulling the blankets off the bed; Sylvanas opens her mouth to protest only to snap it shut and duck as a wrapped set of pyjamas sails past her. “Tides, sorry about that. I was trying to gift them to you, not bludgeon you with them. They're brand new. Promise.”
Picking the pyjamas up in both hands, Sylvanas frowns down at them. “Jaina, I told you, you owe me nothing.”
“Then take them as a gift.” Jaina waits for Sylvanas to look up, holding her gaze evenly. “From one friend to another.”
Sylvanas twitches. Her fingers clench on the pyjamas. “I... don't need pity.”
“It's not pity.”
“Then what is it?”
“It's friendship. I just told you.”
“You barely know me, Jaina.”
“Well,” Jaina says brightly, and turns to pull the curtains closed, “we'll work on that, once you've slept. There's a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet. I'm going out onto the balcony to get some fresh air, and read a bit more of my book. Elor'aminor!”
And she steps out onto the balcony to give Sylvanas some much-needed privacy.
“Sinu a'manore,” comes quietly from behind her.
-0-0-
Jaina doesn't take in more than five words of her book.
Her mind races, grabbing at each piece of the puzzle, slotting them together in her head. Terenas must have known Arthas had done something to her. Why else would Arthas ask him to bribe the police into losing those statements? Why aren't Sylvanas' family looking for her? What narrative did the Menethils feed them? Does Arthas genuinely believe she's dead, surely he must, or he would've been looking for her- or did he just not find her?
Her gut clenches.
Does he recognise her MO? Would he... would he try to do the same to me? Sylvanas was well-connected in Quel'Thalas, and he did it to her-
Her phone starts ringing. Jaina glances to it only to groan out loud, flopping back in her chair. “Mother, why,” she moans, lifting the phone up and squinting at the screen. “Why now? Why ever, in fact?”
Well, here goes nothing. “Hello, Mo-”
“Are you safe?”
Jaina blinks. “Yes,” she says, slowly. “You sent half the Proudmoore Guard to make sure I was.”
“Good.” She can hear Katherine clearing her throat. “Would you like to return home?”
“We're just coming up to exams, Mother. I can't really abandon my students with five days to go. You told me you didn't raise a quitter-”
“Dalaran University be damned. Say the word and your father and I will get you home.”
Jaina exhales slowly. Mother, you make it sound like you care. “Thank you, Mother, but I need to be here, these are their final exams and I won't have anyone penalised for my personal circumstances.”
A huff. Jaina can't tell if it's disapproving or not. “I thought that might be your answer. Well, then, say the word and your father and I will have Arthas Menethil taken care of.”
What in the name of the- “Tides, Mother! I thought you liked him!”
“Liked, Jaina. Liked.”
Jaina sits in stunned silence. Licks her lips. “You... you were the one who persuaded me to marry him, Mother.”
“I regret it.”
“You do?”
“Don't make me repeat myself, Jaina. I would never have put you within five hundred yards of that scoundrel if I had had the slightest inkling that he would desert you and bed some cheap Thalassian whore. Your father is preparing some choice words for Terenas.”
“Dad is? I assumed you'd have the honours.”
“Don't be ridiculous, dear, I'm far too busy running a country single-handedly.”
“I know you've got a lot on- what?”
“Your father will be arriving at your hotel at nine AM sharp tomorrow to give you a hand with the Menethil boy. Please do ensure it's tidy. He still complains about foot pain from all the failed science experiments he stepped on in your bedroom.” A pause. “Anything else, dear?”
“Mother, it's really not-”
“No, dear, your father will sort this, so you can focus on your students. It's no trouble at all. Right. I must go. Goodnight, dear.”
“Mother-!”
“Sleep well, Jaina. May sweet dreams come to you upon the Tides.”
Jaina stops. Tears well in her eyes.
“You... you haven't said that to me since I was a child,” she forces out through a thick throat.
“I regret that too. I shall speak to you soon.”
And the line goes dead.
Still staring down at the blank screen, Jaina wipes the tears that have spilled out onto her cheeks. “Well,” she croaks, “that went better than I expected. How am I going to explain the elf in my bed?”
Notes:
thank you so much for reading! i really hope you enjoyed <3
thalassian translations:
elor'aminor = sleep peacefully
sinu a'manore = well met (i'm using this to mean 'i'm glad i met you')
Chapter 3
Notes:
thank you SO much to KeiraWinsIRL for your help with the plotline! i promise, I had an idea what i was doing (spoiler: i did not)
also to clarify: there is no SA theme in this fic. I'll make it clearer in further chapters, but that would require a lot more time, energy and finesse than this piece would afford it. <3
tw for: war crimes, mentions of war, weapons, and all the warnings of previous chapters (forced partnership, cheating, domestic violence, mentions of murder/attempted murder)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“So, Papa. Let me start off by telling you there's an elf in my bed.”
Takeaway cup of tea in one hand and breakfast butty in the other, Daelin blinks at her. “Jainey,” he says, slowly, “that's one hell of a rebound, my darlin'.”
“It's not like that-”
“Honestly, Starshine, it's alright. Your da don't judge. I've only eyes for one woman, but even I can see how beautiful those bloody quel'dorei are, the cheekbones on the fellas-! How's a man meant to compete with that, eh?” The lift doors open with a ping and Daelin steps back to allow a tauren couple out. “Bloody unfair, so it is.”
“True. Vereesa doesn't even get bedhead. I nearly cried when she told me.”
“Your ma cried every morning trying to untangle your bird's nest.” Daelin slurps down half the tea in one go and sticks his tongue out. “What kind of bloody dishwater- never mind, Daelin, you'll be home soon. What's the lucky lad's name, then?”
“Da! It's really, really not like that-”
“Oh, of course not, darlin'! Tidemother knows you deserve some love and affection after what that- boy- put you through.” The doors slide shut behind them. “I promise to play nice.”
Jaina pinches the bridge of her nose between two fingers and lets out a long, deep sigh. “Da,” she says, eyes still squeezed shut, “do you remember Arthas was a widower?”
“How could he let any of us forget! Every bloody time I saw him, it was my darling first wife this, my darling first wife that, I warned him that if he kept comparing you to her, I'd have his face comparing with my fist-”
The doors rattle open to a bedraggled Taelia and Flynn, feather dusters in hand, juggling a mop and bucket and a stack of towels between them.
Daelin stops. Opens, then closes his mouth. “Morning,” he says through gritted teeth. “Housekeeping.”
Taelia flushes bright red. “M-morning, um, honoured guest,” she mumbles. “Welcome to the Krasus' Landing Hotel and-”
“Lord Admiral,” Flynn pants, wobbling around on one leg in an attempt to stabilise the precarious mound of towels in his arms, “permission to take another undercover role? I'm really bad at making beds.”
“He is,” Taelia adds.
“And she's worse.”
“I am.”
“And I keep getting my pinny strings caught on-”
“STOW IT! I thought I requested that my finest officers be sent to guard my daughter? Not my bloody court jesters!” Taelia and Flynn shrink back under Daelin's gimlet-eyed glare. “What would you prefer I sent you in here as? Kitchen scullys? Shoe polishers? Window cleaners?”
“Sorry, Lord Admiral, I haven't a head for heights,” Flynn says faintly.
“Then you'd best learn how to make a bed and damn fast, Fairwind! Remember to tuck the edges in! Now- who's guarding the room?”
Flynn and Taelia blink uncomprehendingly at him.
Daelin pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Who,” he says, slowly, enunciating, “is guarding, Jaina's room? The room I sent you undercover to guard? The whole point of you being here?”
“Oh! The elf said she'd do that. Could someone give me a hand? I'm losing my bala-”
“Wait a moment,” Jaina interrupts. “The elf you're meant to be guarding, said she would guard the room?”
“Yes- we were already five bedrooms behind schedule, this hotel is clearly understaffed and WHERE'S MY OTHER FOOT-”
Flynn topples over with a yelp. Taelia sighs, deeply.
“Jainey, you sort these two beached threshers out. I'll go relieve your elf of guard duty.” Daelin drops the rest of his tea in the mop bucket and strides past, marching away round the corner. “What's her name again?”
Jaina's head jerks up. “Wait- hold on, Da, I really think it's best if I-”
“Nonsense! I know how to be tactful. GOOD MORNING, SUNSHINE! SO! YOU THINK YOU'RE GOOD ENOUGH FOR MY DAUGHTER, EH? LET'S HAVE A LOOK AT OW!”
Jaina drops Flynn and Taelia and pelts round the corner-
Daelin is sprawled on the floor, a pyjama-clad Sylvanas stood over him, wielding Jaina's book in both hands.
“Good morning to you too,” Daelin croaks from the floor.
“Jaina?” The chuckle bubbling up in Jaina's throat dies at the tremble in Sylvanas' voice. “He- he just burst in-”
“Hey- it's alright, he's with me.” Slowly, holding Sylvanas' wild-eyed gaze the whole time, Jaina reaches forwards and slides the book out of Sylvanas' hands. “He's my father, actually.”
“I- oh.” Sylvanas' cheeks flush bright red. “Your father. The... the Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras.”
“Yes, that one.”
The blush shoots up Sylvanas' ears, and she stares at Jaina in wordless horror.
“Jainey, darling,” Daelin groans, still flat on his back, “can we have a chat about you switching to paperbacks?”
-0-0-
“Now, Da,” Jaina says, placing a fresh cup of tea down beside her father and plopping onto the sofa, “you have to be nice to Flynn and Taelia now. That's the fastest I've ever seen someone find an ice pack.”
“Point taken,” Daelin says, clutching the ice pack to his forehead. “I almost feel confident leaving you here with them.”
He leans back, glancing towards Sylvanas, huddled by the balcony door with arms jammed folded. “Perhaps I should hire you as my new honour guard. Did a bloody good job on me, that's for sure.”
Sylvanas stiffens. “I apologise,” she says shortly, eyes darting round. “You- startled me.”
“The feeling's mutual. What's your name again?”
“I-” Sylvanas' head jerks up, staring at Jaina in a wordless plea for help. “It's, uh, Lindsay Ravensun.”
Daelin squints at her. “What a very elven name. Not.”
“You can tell him.” Jaina keeps her voice gentle. Clenches her fists to stop herself from reaching out to Sylvanas. “He's here to help. We can keep you safe-”
“No!” The strength in Sylvanas' voice has them both flinching back. “I- I cannot involve you. It wouldn't be fair. I'm- I'm unimportant. You don't need to get caught up in my mess.”
“You keep using that word,” Jaina says. “I'm not sure you know what it means.”
Daelin glances between them, frowning. “And what am I helping with? Is she tangled up with Arthas too? Did he- wait, you're not the side piece, are you? Are you? Bloody hell, Jaina, this is complicated-”
“DA!” Jaina throws her hands in the air. “Da, for the love of the Tides! No. Her name-”
“Jaina, please, don't-”
“-her name is Sylvanas Windrunner.”
Sylvanas folds even tighter into herself, like a wounded beast in a snare.
Daelin blinks at her. “Well, that's a very pretty name, I'm not sure why you're so- wait. Sylvanas? Like... Sylvanas, the darling first wife Sylvanas?”
“Yes, Da,” Jaina says. “The darling first wife.”
Still pressed against the balcony door, Sylvanas drops her head. “Bal'a dash, Lord Admiral,” she offers, quietly.
For a moment, there is silence, as Daelin stares open-mouthed at Sylvanas, and Sylvanas stares down at the rug, and Jaina stares at the ceiling and prays to the Tidemother for one of them to say something.
“I see,” Daelin says, eventually, and drops the ice pack onto the table with a crunch. “You look very well for the victim of a murder investigation.”
“Da!” Jaina hisses. “What happened to tactful?”
“In fairness, Jaina,” Sylvanas says, still staring at the rug, “I did just hit him in the face with a hardback. I think we're past tact.”
“He brought that on himself!”
“That I did,” Daelin says, wobbling to his feet and stretching. “It's a valuable reminder to knock before bumbling into someone's bedroom. Least we know why they never found the body. It was too busy wandering around hitting people.”
“Da, for the love of the Tides-”
Sylvanas laughs.
Whatever Jaina was about to say fades on its way to her mouth, subsumed by the fluttering in her chest as she stares at Sylvanas' beautiful face, stretched in a smile.
Her mouth is the most beautiful Cupid's bow. There are freckles on her cheeks. How did I not notice there are freckles on her-
“Jainey,” Daelin mutters, mouth close to her ear. “Azeroth to Jainey.”
“I- uh- yes,” Jaina gabbles, and jumps up from the sofa to make an undignified exit to the bathroom with the kettle. “Anybody fancy some proper Kul Tiran tea?”
“That's my girl,” Daelin calls after her. “Sylvanas? You had real tea before?”
“My nerves are still a little on edge, so forgive me if I say no this time, Lord Proudmoore. Thank you.”
Jaina twists round, offering Sylvanas a gentle smile, and Sylvanas returns it.
Oh by the Tides, her eyes. It should be illegal to have eyes that shape. And how do all high elves have skin so-
“Jaina, you're flooding the bathroom.”
“Oh. Thanks, Da.”
-0-0-
“-so we decided to focus on the glyph system and... Mrs Proudmoore? Is, uh... everything alright?”
Jaina blinks. Blinks again. Kinndy and Pained are peering at her from the other side of the table, their final year project spread out in between them.
“Oh! Sorry. Yes. You must be blinding me with your brilliance again.” She attempts a laugh.
Pained's nose wrinkles.
“Right,” Kinndy says, slowly. “So... the glyph system? What would you recommend?”
There's another pause.
“I'm going to be honest, Kinndy, I wasn't paying attention at all.”
“I'm going to be honest, Mrs Proudmoore, we could tell.”
Dropping her head into her hands, Jaina exhales, long and deep. “I'm so sorry, you two. You deserve better than this, you really do. Can we- can we recap after I've had some coffee?”
“Why not,” Pained says, and hauls Kinndy up from her chair, ignoring the squeaky grumbling. “C'mon, Kinn, let's see if Wilfred and the theatre majors are still rehearsing in the library.”
Kinndy's face goes white. “Don't you dare. Pained, I'm warning you, if I have to sit through his monologue again- WILFRED FIZZLEBANG, MASTER SUMMONER-”
“Ladies, can you hold on just one moment?”
Pained and Kinndy freeze. Turn back towards her.
“Pained. Kinndy,” Jaina starts, and swallows. Looks down at her hands, limp on the desk. “This is, erm. Extracurricular.”
Her students exchange glances.
Jaina clears her throat awkwardly. “Do you, erm... do you think you can tell if someone is a bad person?”
Pained's brow furrows. “Well, that depends. Bad people don't run around with 'I'M A BAD PERSON' tattooed on their forehead.”
“Though that would be nice,” Kinndy pipes up.
“But... what if someone you trust, turns out to be a bad person? What does that say about you?”
Pained plops back down in her chair. “Is this about your husband, Mrs Proudmoore?”
“Of course not! It would be extremely inappropriate for me to talk about personal circumstances with my students. Even those who have more degrees than I do-” Kinndy blinks- “and those who are older and therefore have more life experience.” Pained frowns. “Both of which I would hypothetically find very useful right now.”
There's a pause.
“Alright, so hypothetically, this is not about your husband,” Pained says, and drops Kinndy back onto her seat. “And I have no idea what happened, and this is all entirely hypothetical, but of course you can't control someone else's actions, and being cheated on is not a reflection on you as a person-”
The door bursts open and Antonidas jogs in, slams the door behind him, and throws the bolt across.
Jaina stares at him.
“Morning, Mrs Proudmoore,” Antonidas pants, and leans against the door, smoothing his robes out. “Modera's trying to get me to go for a morning jog with her again.”
“You just need to be firm with her, Nidas. Tell her your knees creak too much.”
Crouched to hide beneath the window, Antonidas casts her a bewildered look. “How does that woman have so much energy in the mornings? What eldritch being did she make a dark pact with? Oh, and Jaina, there's a delivery for you downstairs.”
“Thanks, Nidas. You should be safe now, if you go via the fire escape.”
Antonidas salutes her, cracks the door open, and peers left and right before taking off down the corridor.
Jaina sighs, deeply. “It's not just the cheating, Pained,” she says, voice soft. “Arthas... hurt someone. Someone I consider a friend.”
Pained's brows furrow. Her fingers touch Jaina's arm. “Are they alright?”
“They're doing as well as can be expected.”
Pained looks down at the desk. “Sometimes, Jaina, bad things happen to good people. And sometimes, bad people happen to good people. It's not your fault and you couldn't have foreseen it happening. I-” The fingers of her other hand are clenched into a fist. “The Sentinels have been riding with the Dark Mages for over twenty years without so much as a broken mud-guard on a bike. Should I have known that morning that Dar'khan would come swinging for me, the moment we stepped off our bikes? Should I have been prepared?”
“No, of course not!”
“Then why do you get to hold yourself to a higher standard than you hold me?”
“Don't talk about higher,” Kinndy mutters, straining on tiptoes to peer over the desk.
“I-” Jaina snaps her mouth shut. Slouches in her chair. But you knew something was off, didn't you? You kept telling yourself you had a gut feeling about him. You should have trusted it-
“Even if you had a gut feeling, it's not your fault. You did the best you could with what information you had. Stop it. Now.”
Jaina throws her hands up in the air with a groan. “When did you become a Tides-damned mind reader, Pained?”
Pained bares her fangs at her in a toothy smile. “It's a natural talent of mine. Go and get your parcel. We'll be back at two.”
“I've only got Rommath after lunch, one would be fine-”
“We'll come back at two.” And Pained swipes their papers up and stuffs them back in their folder. “C'mon, Kinndy. I was only joking. We'll go haunt the Rangers.”
Kinndy's eyes brighten. “Hot elves with bows? Ooh, goodie!”
-0-0-
“Were you at Stratholme?”
Sylvanas stiffens. Daelin Proudmoore has been quiet for the last half an hour, tapping away on the laptop perched precariously atop Jaina's cluttered desk; she'd been so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she hadn't noticed him stop. “I was not. Stratholme was a terrible disaster,” she says, slowly, evenly. “Though Quel'Thalas was not without blame, the misjudgments of Uther Lightbringer cost us many good Farstriders. I am glad he accepted the blame without an extended trial.”
Daelin purses his lips. “Mmn,” is all he says, and turns back to continue typing.
Heart hammering in her chest, Sylvanas looks down at her fingers, fingers that itch to discharge their nervous energy on a keyboard as Bansheequeen-QuelThalas. Breathes slowly, up to ten, and back down again. “Why do you ask?”
“Because Kul Tiras was deliberately excluded from the trial.” Daelin pauses. “By your mother and Terenas Menethil. And a month later, you're marrying his son.”
Sylvanas swallows. “It was- a whirlwind romance. And I was but a Ranger-Captain, hence why I was not present at Stratholme myself-”
“No, but you were in charge at Fairbreeze Village, where they took the survivors.” When she looks up, Daelin's eyes are boring into hers. “Where Uther was arrested.”
Her chest feels too heavy to draw in breath. “Lord Admiral,” she starts, and clenches her fists in her lap, “I beg of you, no good will come of you following this path. It sounds like you already know more than enough. I am grateful for your protection. I will be out of your hair soon.”
Daelin stands so suddenly it sets Sylvanas' teeth on edge. “Listen, girl. I may look, sound and act simple, but best believe I'm not- I know a set-up when I see one, and Uther was hung out to dry like a damn tea towel. I never once got a straight answer out of Terenas in five years of Jaina's marriage. Kul Tiras lost over a thousand-count that day-”
“I am not a girl.” She's up on her feet, body thrumming with adrenaline. “I am sorry for your losses. Quel'Thalas lost three thousand, four hundred and sixty-one. Uther accepted the blame and is serving the punishment he was set and that is the end of it!”
“AND UTHER LIGHTBRINGER MADE THE BLIGHT, DID HE?” Daelin roars. “ALL ON HIS OWN IN HIS SPARE ROOM?”
Sylvanas stops.
The Blight. Who could have-
“How did you receive that information? That classified information?”
“Your nation isn't the only one with a spooky-dooky society.” Daelin's mouth curls into a smile. “And Valeera Sanguinar was all too ready to turn double agent, after the injuries the Blight left her wife with. Liadrin, I believe her name was? Nice lady. A good soul.”
Belore take me, he's done his homework. Like father, like daughter. “Then if you know so much, Daelin Proudmoore,” she says, slowly, carefully, “what information could I possibly have for you? Surely not enough to exchange for the name of your spy? Me, a dead woman, haunting the shadows of Dalaran?”
Daelin's face softens. “Sylvanas, I learned of your continued existence about half an hour ago. Very abruptly.” In spite of herself, a smile twitches at the corner of her mouth. “I don't want anything from you. I don't want to be interrogating you like this, I'm not the bad cop! Jaina asked me to keep you safe, and that, I believe I can do- but I need to know who wants to do you harm, and the reason you stayed dead.”
There's a pause.
“Please,” Sylvanas says, finally, “for your sake, and for your daughter's sake- let Sylvanas Windrunner stay dead. My life is cold and dark, but it's a life. I cannot risk more innocents being harmed. And they will be. They will be, Daelin.”
He steps closer. “I didn't think you the type of woman to let Arthas Menethil win at anything.”
“I-! You won't manipulate me that easily-”
Daelin's phone rings.
“Jaina,” Daelin says, immediately. Jogs back to the desk to pick it up. “'Ello, Starshine! You alright?”
“Daddy. Come pick me up. Please. Right now.”
Sylvanas' stomach drops at the fear in Jaina's voice. “What's happened?” she demands, rushing towards Daelin. “Jaina? What's happened?”
“Please... come get me. Now.”
-0-0-
“Please, Daddy,” Jaina whispers.
Stares down at the package in her hands, the package addressed to her, to Professor Jaina Proudmoore of Dalaran University.
And the single item within it, the largest of a set of Pandaren kitchen knives.
Notes:
thank you so much for reading! i promise to respond to all your comments soon, i truly do- it's just finding the words. <3 hearing from readers makes my day, i promise, i will reply.
take care of yourselves <3
Chapter 4
Notes:
evening all, i'm still going (with thanks as ever to KeiraWinsIRL for her help with the plot!)
i promise to respond to all your wonderful comments, i hope to have the emotional headspace soon, but know that each one makes my day, and you're all absolutely amazing and i owe you an internet stranger high five (or hug! i do those too!)
tw for: [as well as previous chapters and those tagged] mentions of mutilation (past), violence, gore (mentioned), boarding school (mentioned), war crimes, bioweapons, and Valeera Sanguinar flirting
and thank you so much for clicking!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Come on, Flynn, speed up! You drive like my grandfather after he lost his other eye!”
“Please, Lord Admiral, unlike Kul Tiras, Dalaran does actually have speed limits-!”
Taser eschewed in favour of a gun, Taelia twists round in the front passenger seat. “This car's mine, Lord Admiral. I'd like it to arrive in one piece.”
“Then you shouldn't have spent the whole trip down in the lift bragging about how “mind-bendingly fast” it can go-”
“From what I've experienced so far, Mr Fairwind seems like a very competent driver, though one who could certainly speed up if he so wished,” comes Sylvanas' voice from behind Daelin. “And if he could warn me, should we approach any big potholes, that would be greatly appreciated.”
Daelin peers over the back of his seat. “It was your decision to travel in the-”
“BRACE!” Flynn screams.
Du-dunk du-dunk as the car thuds across a set of train tracks.
“Thank you, Mr Fairwind,” comes the strained voice from the trunk. “That was very helpful.”
“You're welcome, Lady Windrunner.”
There's silence from the boot. “I... would appreciate you calling me Lindsay Ravensun,” eventually comes, through what sounds like gritted teeth. “It was not my choice to be unmasked, as it were.”
“Fair 'nough.” Flynn's eyes flick up to peer at the back in the rear view mirror. “How did you and Jaina meet then-”
“Focus on the road, Fairwind, not chit chat!” Daelin squints through the windscreen. “And mind you don't go through that red light-”
SKREE! from beneath the car as Flynn's foot slams the brake to the ground.
“Ow,” comes faintly from the trunk. “By dose hurts.”
“My brake discs,” Taelia moans.
Panting, Flynn grips the steering wheel with white-knuckled fingers. “Sorry, Syl- I mean, erm, Lindsay.”
“Ib's OK. And you dob't have to do it here. Jubt in public. Has anybody god any tissues?”
“Oh, yes, somewhere, in one of these pouches-”
“FLYNN! Light's going green!” And Daelin is thrown back in his seat at the force of the acceleration. Taelia squeaks and scrambles for the armrest. “Tides, Fairwind, when I said speed up, I didn't mean break the land speed record-”
“We need to geb to Jaina,” Sylvanas says, loudly enough to cut Daelin off mid-sentence. “She neebs you.”
Daelin stares down at the footwell. Jaina doesn't need me, he wants to say. Jaina is a fully-qualified university tutor with years of experience and multiple world-renowned papers to her name. I'm an idiot who twaddles around on boats and shouts at people. Jaina doesn't need anything from me.
And yet she'd sounded so damn small, so damn scared, that he'd all but frogmarched the lot of them out to the car without a second thought.
“It's just up here, Lord Admiral,” Taelia calls back. Her fingers quickly, deftly load a round into the chamber of her gun. “Would you like me to put the siren on?”
“No, no need for that. Jaina will have told them we're arriving soon.”
“But how are they going to recognise my-”
As if on cue, the gates swing open.
“Jaina has a photographic memory,” Daelin finishes, proudly. “She can recite the plate of any car that me, her mother, or her brothers have ever owned. Used to drive me up the bloody wall, it did. Every promise I made to get her to go to bed on time- had to make good on it. She'd never let me forget otherwise.”
The front doors of the University building burst open.
Daelin's already stumbling out of the car, sprinting to catch Jaina her eyes are red my girl's been crying wraps both arms tight around his little girl and holds her close, stroking her hair. “Daddy's here,” he soothes, rocking her from side to side. “Daddy's got you. Whatever happened, we can sort it, it'll be alright.”
Jaina clings to him. “He- he sent me- I can't believe he would- sick fuck- where's Sylvanas?”
“She's in the car. She's safe.”
Gently, reluctantly- dragging in a long breath as she does so- Jaina pulls back and out of his arms. They ache at the sudden emptiness. “Where- Da! You put her in the trunk?”
“She put herself in the trunk!”
Hood pulled tight over her face, only her wide, anxious eyes visible, Sylvanas scrambles out of the boot and jogs over to meet them only to squeak as Jaina grabs her and hauls her into a hug too.
“I'm so glad you're safe, I'm so glad you're safe- he sent me- Tides I can't even say it-”
“Show us, Jainey.” Daelin rubs her back. She's trembling- “Come on. Whatever it is, we'll tackle it together.”
“He's a sick fuck- I can't believe I didn't see it when I was-”
“Still not your fault,” Sylvanas reminds her, stiff and awkward in the overwhelm of a Jaina hug. “I'm sure your ann'da has a harbour or two we could make Arthas disappear in.”
Daelin huffs. “And the bloody rest.” He takes Jaina by the elbow, gently, carefully disentangling her from the petrified elf in her arms and walking her towards the double doors of the University building. “And quite a few sailors who'd do a bloody good job covering it up too.”
Jaina hiccups out a wet, bubbling laugh. “Thank you, Da,” she says softly. “I knew I could count on you.”
Daelin's vision goes misty.
“You didn't tell me your car had a siren!” Flynn whines behind them. “I would've loved to play with that!”
“That's why I didn't tell you it had a siren.”
“Meanie!”
-0-0-
“Right. So you want me to find out who dropped it off, when they dropped it off, and what direction they went in?” Modera's tapping one-fingered at her keyboard, glasses perched on her nose, sweatband still on her forehead. “I'll try, Jaina, but this technology thing isn't my strong point. Did you see Antonidas earlier, by the way? I was going to invite him out for-”
“No, no, I didn't see him,” Jaina lies, as smoothly as she can. “Sorry.”
“I suppose I'll probably spot him at some point too. Give me a minute, dear. I think these are my running specs.” Modera straightens up and heads out of the room, humming under her breath.
“Running specs,” Daelin mutters. “You do know some strange folk, Jaina.”
“It's very good for your cardiac health and it releases endorphins,” Sylvanas says, looking like the polar opposite of an endorphin, hunched into herself on the opposite side of the room. One chipped black nail picks restlessly at a scabbed-over graze on her elbow. “I used to race my sisters every morning, five miles minimum.”
Yes, Vereesa told me all about your early morning runs. Jaina's mouth curls up in a soft smile. She was a bottle of wine down at the time, telling me how you used to team up with her and set traps for Alleria, or dunk everyone's shoes but yours in seawater the night before. She laughed until the tears rolled down her face.
Her smile fades. Then she started crying. Told me deep inside, she wanted them to find your body. That she felt so guilty for it that she'd never told anybody else. That she didn't want to know you were dead. She just wanted closure.
I'll bring you her body, Vereesa. With a Sylvanas inside it.
“You're sure this is...?”
Jaina snaps back with a jolt. Daelin is peering into the package, mouth a tight line in his ruddy face. “Yes. As sure as I can be without forensic examination.” She glances to Sylvanas, who studiously refuses to meet her eyes. “Sylvanas opted not to look.”
“But we need to know-”
“No.” Daelin stops dead at the firmness of her voice. “I won't force her, Da.”
“I can look,” Sylvanas mumbles, pushing herself off the wall with her shoulder. Her hands clench on her own ribcage. “I- if it makes this easier.”
“Who for?” is out of Jaina's mouth before she can stop it. “Not you, that's for sure.”
Sylvanas flinches. “It- it's fine, Jaina. You need it confirmed. I'll confirm it-”
Daelin snaps the box shut and shoves it into a bright pink shopping bag. “No need,” he says shortly. “It'll have to be confirmed by the police regardless. No use everyone poking and prodding it two ways to Sunday. Flynn- I want you to hand courier this box to the Major Investigation Team in Boralus, you understand? Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred gold. Straight there. Tell nobody you have it.”
“Yes, Lord Admiral.” Flynn eyes the neon pink shopper. “Is that-”
“The perfect disguise. Nobody carries a murder weapon around in a bag like that.” Blank stares. Daelin sighs. “Look, I grabbed one of Katherine's shopping bags by accident, now go and get the damn thing home, Fairwind.”
“You can borrow my car,” Taelia offers softly. “I'll show you where the siren is.”
Flynn's eyes light up like a child at Winter's Veil. “Really? Proper really? Aw, yessss!” And he grabs bag and Taelia and all but drags her out of the room.
The moment they've vanished, Daelin rounds on Sylvanas. “There you are,” he says, voice careful. Soft. “It's gone now.”
Sylvanas exhales, long and slow. Her shoulders drop. “Thank you, Lord Admiral,” she murmurs. “I apologise- I swear to you, I can identify it, I just- it-”
“I hate dessert forks.”
Sylvanas blinks. “Good to know,” she says slowly, glancing to Jaina.
“I hate dessert forks because one of 'em took my eye out when I was a boy. I'll tell any bugger that listens that it was a great sea battle, but that's the truth. My brother and I got into a fight at the dinner table, and he had a dessert fork in his hand that he'd forgotten about, and then he didn't, and he's felt guilty about that day ever since. Even though I forgave him long ago.” Daelin pulls a chair out and perches backwards on it. “But I can't stand dessert forks. Katherine got the most beautiful set as a wedding gift, and she saw my face when she brought 'em out for the first time. Locked them away and never used them.”
Jaina draws in a breath. “You've never told me that! The bit about the wedding gift forks,” she adds, quickly. “Mother would never waste good cutlery.”
Daelin offers her a crooked smile. “I rather think she didn't like to see me upset, dear.”
Jaina's heart starts to pound. Her tongue is suddenly dry in her mouth. “She sent me off to boarding school at eight, she saw me upset then-”
The door bangs open and Modera wanders back in, sucking idly on a mint. “Hello, Jaina! There we go, it's loaded up. Computers, eh? Give me a good old typewriter any day- now I click on this, and- and this- I seem to be in a menu- oh dear, no, I didn't mean to open Kodo Run 2, who put Kodo Run 2 on here? Was that you, Jaina?”
“No,” Jaina lies again, and rounds the desk to pull the laptop gently out of Modera's hands. “I'll sort it, Modera. Swap you for my final year students at 1pm.”
“Ooh, deal. I've been meaning to get my hands on that Rommath of yours. So much potential, he just isn't quite there yet!” Modera snatches her backpack up from the chair and pushes her glasses back up onto her nose. “I'll see you later, Jaina. Oh, in case the screen locks up, the password is-”
She stops. Her cheeks flush pink.
Jaina leans closer. “Is...?”
Even Modera's ears turn crimson. “Antonidas123,” she mumbles, and all but runs out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her.
Sylvanas snorts into the neck of her hoodie. “You should set them up on a blind date together.”
“One terrifying crisis at a time, please, Sylvanas.” Jaina's finally got the CCTV programme running, scrabbling with the finicky mouse pad to rewind the video. “Modera said the package arrived somewhere around ten. Come on, this will be amazing evidence for the divorce lawyer- sod the divorce lawyer, the police won't be able to wriggle out of this one, no way, this is airtight, nothing that Daddy Terenas can do to get that asshole out of-”
A figure finally appears on the screen.
A figure with long, elven ears, and a small, familiar box.
“Jainey?” Daelin's squinting at the laptop screen. “Did you get the wrong time?”
“No. No, this is- look at what's in her hands, Da. That's the box. I-” Heart pounding in her throat, Jaina swerves to Sylvanas, who stands deathly still, face bloodless. “Do you know who that is?”
Jerkily, Sylvanas nods.
“Who is it?” Daelin steps closer. “You can tell me. You can tell ol' Daelin.”
“I know I can, but I don't want to,” Sylvanas croaks. “I don't- she didn't know what was in that box, Lord Admiral, I swear, she never would have-”
“Sylvanas,” Jaina says, gentle but firm. “Who delivered the box?”
Sylvanas jams her arms folded. “Ranger-Captain Anya Eversong. She was my second in command. Now in charge of my unit.”
Silence.
“She was loyal.” Sylvanas' jaw is set tight. “I could have ordered her to jump into Blackrock Mountain and she would have asked how high. She has nothing to do with this.”
Jaina glances to Daelin, who stares back at her, confusion written all over his face. “But- how could Arthas have got to her, Jainey? Valeera told me Arthas had only ever been interested in Thalassian nobility, and Sylvanas' second in command wouldn't have been nobility. Not to be second to a Windrunner. She doesn't fit this puzzle at all.”
“And Arthas never went back to Silvermoon. I renewed his passport, the useless idiot could never remember anything like that, I always had to do everything, short of wipe his ass-”
“Jainey,” Daelin prompts quietly.
“... Sorry. What I meant to say was: the only stamp from the Thalassian border was from the day Sylvanas disappeared. I assumed he'd been searching for her. Now I think about it- yet more evidence Daddy Terenas must have paid to make disappear.” Jaina frowns down at the laptop screen. “He must have someone in his pocket in Quel'Thalas.”
“Not necessarily,” Sylvanas says softly.
Jaina glances up at her, throat tight. “Sylvanas, I'm sorry to ask this of you, but do you remember if- if he took the knife with him after he... hurt you?”
Sylvanas looks away.
For a moment, Jaina hardly dares to breathe.
“I do remember,” Sylvanas finally says, haltingly. “He left it. He... pulled it out and left it beside me.”
In the heavy, stunned silence that follows, she folds her arms tightly over her chest and squeezes her eyes shut.
Something twists painfully in Jaina's belly. He pulled it out of her. He wanted her to bleed to death-
“Scummy, filthy coward!” Daelin's face is ruddy red. “Where's my gun-”
“Da! Focus!”
“I'll focus my fingers around his scrawny man-child neck!”
“Wait, Da.” Daelin freezes. Jaina dives back down to the laptop screen again, zooming in on something in Anya's other hand. “Sylvanas- isn't that a Thalassian badge of some sort?”
Arms still jammed folded, Sylvanas creeps closer, squinting at the screen. “Yes. It's a very specific warrant card. Belonging to... a certain noble house.”
Jaina swerves round. “What does that mean?”
Suddenly, Sylvanas' face is giving nothing away. Her eyes are blank. As though she's forced herself into numbness. “It means-”
“Oh, it is Lady Sylvanas!”
“VALEERA!” Daelin bellows, whirling round on the spot. “For the love of the Tides, you're my double agent! Stop bloody creeping up on me! You just took ten years off my life.”
A giggling blonde-haired elf waltzes out from behind Jaina's filing cabinet. “Bal'a dash, Lady Windrunner,” she says to Sylvanas, who glares at her, chin raised. “So good to see the esteemed Ranger-Captain again! And Dr Lady Proudmoore- so many titles in here!” She saunters closer to Sylvanas, eyes trailing up and down her body. “I need a library card... I'd like to take this one out.”
“Piss off, Sanguinar,” Sylvanas snaps. “You still can't afford me.”
“Rumour has it that you're recently single, Windrunner, I'm sure you could do me a discount-”
Sylvanas lunges forwards and Valeera dodges her fist with a cackle, only to yelp as her left leg is kicked out from under her and an elbow slams into her sternum on her way down.
“Alright, one-nil,” she groans from the floor.
Daelin hauls her back up and brushes her off. “You two know each other?”
Valeera coughs out a laugh. “You c-could say we have a little bit of history.”
“Emphasis on little,” Sylvanas spits. “Valeera forgot to tell me she was being deployed to infiltrate Stormwind. The morning after our date.”
“I did rather fancy taking you with me,” Valeera croons, reaching to caress Sylvanas' chin, only to snatch her hand back as Sylvanas bares her fangs. “Oh, yes, I do remember you being bitey. Some things never change, hey?”
“You're very flirty for a married woman. Liadrin leaving you unsatisfied?”
Valeera's smirk vanishes. “Shut up, Windrunner.”
“Dish it but you can't take it,” Jaina mumbles, only to slap a hand over her mouth as Valeera's head snaps round. “I- I'm sorry. That was inappropriate.”
“It was fair. And funny. I like a spicy professor. Makes me all hot and bothered.” Valeera turns back to Sylvanas. “Liadrin got caught in a Blight explosion. Not just the gas cloud. She took the brunt of a bomb exploding.”
“Oh- Belore, Valeera, I'm sorry. Is- is she-?”
“Recovering. Slowly.” Without the playful smirk, the bags under Valeera's eyes are glaringly obvious in the hard strip lighting. “We're doing it together. Every step. Together.”
Staring at the ground, Sylvanas chews on her lip. “Can... can you give her my best?”
“Yeah, course I can. But I'm sure she'd prefer it if it came in person.”
“Valeera, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm legally dead-”
Valeera snorts. “Bit chatty for a corpse, but yes, I had noticed, and I'm here to tell the Lord Admiral here that unless he wants to come face to face with the conductor of this murderous little orchestra, he'd better skedaddle. Along with you, Lady Jaina and hopefully me. Done way too much walking today.”
Jaina's breath catches in her throat. “Arthas is here?”
“Psh! I said the head honcho. Not the small fry.” And before Jaina or Daelin can stop her, Valeera's crossed the room in two strides and pulled Sylvanas into her second hug of the day. “Good to see you, Sylv. Gorgeous as ever.”
“Why is everyone hugging me,” comes muffled from Valeera's shoulder.
“You'll recover. C'mon.” Valeera grabs Sylvanas and Jaina by the elbows and hustles them out to the fire exit. “She's closing in.”
Panting and straining to keep up- maybe Modera has a point about her needing regular exercise- Jaina's head jerks up and her brows furrow.
She?
Notes:
thank you so much for reading!
Chapter 5
Notes:
i've been globetrotting! sorry folks. here, have this chapter.
tw for: violence (mentioned), grief, self-destructive ideations, valeera sanguinar
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“I spy, with my little eye-”
“VALEERA! WATCH THE STOP SIGN!”
“What stop sign?”
Jaina yelps and dives down in her seat as the car screeches round the corner and weaves through four lanes of traffic to burst out the other end, trailed by angry horns.
“Oh, that stop sign back there?”
“You're not funny, Valeera,” comes yelled from the boot.
“You say that, but you're OUTTA MY WAY ASSHOLE! You're smiling on the inside, Sylvanas. Can't contain your STAY THERE GRANDMA, VALEERA COMIN' THROUGH!- joy, I've made your day!”
“Yes, you've made it so much worse so can you slow DOWN?”
Valeera scoffs delightedly. “Boring!”
And Jaina shrieks and grabs the dashboard again as Valeera takes a corner full-pelt.
“Tides-!” Her heart is pounding in her throat. In the rear-view mirror, Daelin's wide-eyed face is lit in stark profile by the black SUV right behind them. Weren't you there a minute ago too? “How many speeding tickets do you get per month?”
“Ask your expenses department, Proudmoore!” Valeera laughs out loud, blasting through a red light and cutting up cars with glee. “Still alive back there, Sylv? By the way, you seeing anyone? Other than hopefully a therapist?”
“Please, I don't have anything to hold onto-”
“You can hold onto me once we get back to the hotel, babycakes. Nah, I'm taken, but I know a few folks I could set you up with,” Valeera continues blithely, skidding the wrong way down a one-way street and careering up towards the rail crossing. “Unless you're into threesomes? Make sure to warm up first, mind, Liadrin's a beast in the sheets-”
Jaina's whole body stiffens as the rail crossing barriers light up. “Valeera, the crossing barriers-”
“Eh, we'll be fine.”
They're about to come down we'll be SQUASHED “Valeera, the CROSSING BARRIERS-”
“Jaina,” Valeera says lowly, so quietly that Jaina has to strain over the squealing tyres to hear her, “not to worry that pretty head or anything, but I'm driving like a fucking idiot because that big black SUV is chasing us, and if they catch us, that pretty elf in the trunk will meet her actual, final death.”
Jaina's eyes snap up to the rear view mirror, and the big black bonnet leering up behind them, and cold fear drops into her stomach.
“So.” Valeera's hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel. “We cool, Proudmoore?”
In lieu of answering, Jaina grabs the gearstick and shifts the car into Sport Mode.
“BELORE,” comes shrieked from the back as the car leaps forward with a throaty roar and clears the lowering barriers with a split second to spare.
The black SUV skids to a halt and disappears behind the train.
“I remember it taking a lot more work to make you scream like that, Sylv!” But Valeera's face is pinched and tense, eyes darting everywhere. “Alrighty, kids, back to Krasus' Landing. Liadrin's meeting us there, so I'll be distracted for long enough to let you do whatever emo shit is so important on the computer, Sylv.”
And, quietly: “Nice one, Dr Professor Lady.”
“Any time.” The road behind them is blissfully empty. Jaina sags in her seat, exhaling in relief. “Any time.”
-0-0-
Jaina's phone rings as they pile out of Valeera's car.
Shit, it's 2pm, it must be Modera needing something for Pained and Kinndy- Tides take me, I love them, but I could do with focusing on MY chaos for a bit- “Give me a moment,” she tells Daelin, who nods, eyes tracking Sylvanas' hunched form inside. “If Sylvanas still needs it, my laptop password is the same as my computer at home. She seemed very insistent that she needed to email someone.”
He offers her a smile and marches after Sylvanas into the lift.
Jaina waits to be sure they're safely inside before she lifts her phone to her ear. “Hi, Modera, is everything alright-”
“Jaina! I finally got a hold of you!”
Jaina's breath catches in her throat at the sound of Vereesa's voice. “Reesa!” In spite of everything, she can't help but beam, her shoulders loosening of their own accord. “I'm sorry. Things got... things got hectic,” she finishes.
Slight understatement there.
“That's alright. It's crazy here too- what's that, dalah? No, Galadin, no, no more sweeties! Your tummy will hurt. I love you too much to let your tummy hurt. Go on, go and find Daddy, he'll give in and let you do whatever you want.” A gentle laugh. “They've been growing so quickly. You'll be amazed next time you see them. Is he gone? Yes, he's gone.” The sound of a door closing. “No, I... I actually really...”
Jaina frowns. “Reesa?”
A choked, sobbing sound.
“Reesa!” Her hands clench on the handset. “Reesa, what's wrong?”
“I'm sorry- J. I'm so sorry.” Another little whimper. “I'm- I really needed to talk about... about Sylvanas, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, tell me to go away if you need to- I know you and Arthas only just broke up- it's just...”
Vereesa's voice tails off into sobbing.
Jaina's spare hand clutches uselessly at her thigh. Her eyes flick unbidden up to the balcony above her, the balcony of room 512.
“Of course you can talk to me, Reesa. Take a deep breath. What did you need to say?”
“Thank you, Jaina... you know I've been putting the wedding off?” A wet hiccup. “Rho's been so understanding. So, so understanding. But it's been... five years now, did you know that? Five years? And I can tell he wants to make it happen. And I do too. But I- it came back to me, the other day, when you liked the photo, when I saw her again. Why I've been putting it off.”
Jaina bends over the phone, as though sheltering Vereesa's words from the air, from the judgement of others. “Because she wouldn't... be there?”
Another thick sob. “I always had this dream, Jaina. Minn'da refused to walk me down the aisle. We'd had a fight, she was in one of her moods- and Sylvanas saw how upset I was, how disappointed. And... she promised me she would. Said she'd be there in a suit and tie. She'd walk me down the aisle. She was more of a minn'da to me than- every childhood memory, she's in it- it was my dream to- I can't do it on my own, Jaina. I can't. I can't walk down that aisle without her.” Vereesa's voice is choked. Jaina's own bottom lip starts to tremble. “But if I don't, I'll- I've already lost Sylvanas. I can't lose Rhonin too-”
“No! Vereesa, Rhonin's not like that. At all. He loves you so, so much, he would never leave you. Or the boys! And you won't have to-”
Jaina stops.
You don't have to get married without Sylvanas. Her eyes widen. You can have your dream wedding.
“Jaina?” Vereesa's crying has stopped. “Jaina? You there?”
“Yes! Um... look. Vereesa. I really want to help you, OK? I love you to bits. I promise, I will bring you someone who will help you.”
“Someone? A person?” A thin laugh. “J, the only person you could bring me to do that is dead.”
Jaina takes in a deep breath. Lets it out slowly.
“Jaina?”
“Vereesa. Please. Trust me.”
“I- alright.” A shaky exhale crackles through the tinny phone speakers. “It's alright. Rho's been on my ass to see a therapist too. I- I felt like I didn't have any right to go to a grief counsellor, you know? Because they never found her. But I guess they might be able to help.”
A pause. “I'd do anything for you.”
In spite of herself, Jaina's face breaks into a smile. “Just hold your horses, alright? And for the love of the Tides, go and talk to Rhonin about how you're feeling.”
“No! No, I can't burden him with that. He needs me to be strong for the boys. It- she died five years ago, J, I can't- I have to be better than this.”
“There's no time limit on grief. My parents still mourn for Derek and he died nearly twenty years ago, V. You're allowed to take your time.”
A long pause. Jaina can almost see Vereesa curled up on her expensive Thalassian sofa, picking at the ornate embroidery with nails that are perennially bitten.
“No,” comes, eventually. “You're right. But... let me talk to whoever it is first.”
“Of course.” The balcony door opens and Daelin appears, peering quizzically down at her; Jaina gives him a thumbs up. “Reesa, I've got to go, my dad's in town- can I call you soon?”
“Oh, of course! Pass on my love.” A little sniffle. “And thank you.”
“Any time. At all. Please. You're my friend.”
A voice in the background. “One moment- oh. Rho, it's alright, I'm just coming! Sorry, Jaina, the boys want to go to the park. I did promise them.”
“It's alright! You go.” Jaina smiles in spite of herself. “Say hi to them from Auntie Jaina.”
“I will!” A pause. “Thank you. So much. I wanted to burn some peacebloom and pray to Belore tonight, Sylvanas always did it when we were little, so... I know you don't believe in her, and honestly, neither do I anymore. Not after Sylv- but just in case she does exist, I'll tell the Mother Sun to tell Sylvanas to watch over you.”
Jaina's face breaks out into a soft beam. “Oh, Reesa. That's very sweet of you.”
“Windrunners aren't sweet, J. You know this.” A pause. “Speak soon, alright?”
“Of course. You look after yourself.”
“And you! Bye! Love you!” And the line goes dead.
Sighing out a long breath into the still air, Jaina tucks her phone back into her bag. “Well,” she says to nobody in particular. “These Windrunners, eh?”
-0-0-
“There you go,” Daelin says, plopping a little blue laptop down in front of Sylvanas. “The password is DaughterOfTheSea123.”
Sylvanas nods numbly. Takes the laptop from him. “Does it have full privacy settings enabled?”
“They have what settings?”
“... Never mind.”
Tugging at the knees of his trousers, Daelin plops down beside her. “You young people are so Tides-damned clever, you know. Jainey's got two degrees. You had a pretty bloody brilliant military career. You've hidden yourself for five years- five years! And then there's me. My biggest accomplishment is that I'm in a barber shop quartet and we sing sea shanties. Badly.”
In spite of herself, Sylvanas smiles. “I don't think you can be that bad.”
“I can't even hum right. Bolvar says I'm in key, but which key is anyone's guess.” His crooked smile is warm. Soft. “You looked ever so sad, you know. When we got out of the car.”
“Being dead will do that to you.”
“Aye, I'll let you have that one, but- we've got your back now. You're not doing this alone.”
In lieu of answering, Sylvanas looks back down at the laptop screen. The spots from the SUV's headlights have long since faded away from her vision, but the fear is still there, thrumming behind her sternum.
Her heart pounds. So acutely aware it is on borrowed time.
“I'll go make sure Flynn's on the right track. His husband said he'd meet him at the ferry.” Daelin stands with a groan, joints clicking. “Valeera's keeping an eye on the corridor and I'd best give my excuses to the lads for our rehearsal tonight. They can always pop out and catch a seagull, it'll sound much the same.”
“You're very kind,” she blurts out, unbidden. “All of you. Very kind.”
Daelin's smile widens. “My ma brought me up to be a good man to those who deserve it.”
She doesn't. Sylvanas looks away.
The laptop isn't quite on factory settings, but it only takes a few tweaks of the registry to disable the location data; Jaina already has a VPN, much to her surprise, but it's not switched on (user error? Or did Arthas tell her not to?)
Her WASD keys are worn away. Even this potato plays World of War, I suppose.
“-bought your tickets already? Solid lad. Let him know to pass it on to my treasurer and he'll be reimbursed in full.” Daelin's talking on the phone, voice low, back turned to Sylvanas and staring out of the window over Dalaran. “And for the love of the Tides, make sure that shopping bag gets back to Katherine. I'll never hear the end of it if I lose one of her good ones. And you've got the-? Good lad. Valeera trained you well, eh? Alright then. Hang on a mo, I'll just go and call Jaina in, bear with.”
He glances back to Sylvanas, and trots out of the room, offering her a smile on his way out.
Sylvanas swallows against the lump in her throat.
Opens the browser on the laptop, and starts to type.
-0-0-
“-Jainey? You alright?”
Still hunched over her phone, Jaina's head jerks up at her father's voice. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “I, erm, everything's fine-”
“Good. We're going to pop round the corner, you and I.”
Jaina blinks. “Are we?”
“We are. Little shop that sells Thalassian herbs.”
“But you don't like Thalassian herb tea-”
Daelin catches her eye and shakes his head once.
Oh. You've made contact with an informant. “Well, why not start in Dalaran!” she chirps, and offers him her arm. “Funny enough, I wanted to buy some peacebloom for someone.”
“Well, there we go.” His eyes dart to the hedge. Jaina follows his line of sight just quickly enough to catch the flash of binoculars disappear into the sculpted hotel gardens. “Ready?”
“... Sure.”
They walk the two streets in heavy silence, eyes tracking every movement, every passer-by. Jaina's fingers itch for the handguns she grew up shooting at her father's practice range. They'd been arm in arm then, too. He'd wanted to make sure she was safe.
Is Valeera with Sylvanas? itches on her tongue. Did you warn her not to tell Sylvanas about the SUV-
“Here.” Daelin's voice breaks through her thoughts, and she's guided through a shabby, flaky door before she can gather her thoughts enough to say anything. “Good afternoon, Sharlindra, how're you doing? How's the weather?”
“Been cloudy this week. Since Monday, I'd say.” The shopkeeper- a stocky elven woman with long, bright-blonde hair- drops a muddy trowel beside her till with a thunk and starts stripping her gardening gloves off. “Keeps threatening to rain.”
Daelin nods. “Which weather forecaster do you watch, then, to get such an accurate forecast?”
“The Thalassian one.” Sharlindra's eyes snap up, making direct contact with Daelin's. “They're stationed in southern Eversong. Family business.”
Daelin's eyebrows purse.
“You want to watch them,” Sharlindra continues, her tone airy. “They never miss. Lots of nasty headwinds around there. Must be quite hazardous.” Glances to Jaina. “I've something for you, by the way.”
Jaina starts. “F-for me?”
Nodding, Sharlindra reaches beneath her counter with a grunt. “Here you go. Free of charge for the Lady.”
Jaina steps forwards-
Sharlindra presses a bundle of dried peacebloom into her palm and wraps Jaina's hand in both of her own.
“Keep an eye on her for me,” she says, voice low. “I saw a nasty black SUV hurtling along earlier today. Couldn't help but deflate its tyres. Someone could get hurt doing those sorts of speeds.” And she steps back, sniffing and squaring her shoulders.
“Well! I'm afraid that's me closing up for lunch. Do come back if you'd like more peacebloom, Lady Proudmoore.” She offers them both a thin smile. “Shorel'aran.”
Daelin nods tightly at her, and Jaina finds herself marched out of the shop and back out into the thready Dalaran sunlight.
“Da? What was that about-”
“Da's got to have some secrets, starlight.” But his grin is strained. “I promise, I'll tell you everything. But let's head back first. I don't like leaving Valeera in charge of anything, let alone another person.”
“Pot plant?”
“... Still seems risky. Come on, you. Stir yer stirrups.”
-0-0-
They open the door to room 512-
Just as Valeera comes barrelling out, gun drawn and eyes wide. “LINDSAY? WHERE IS SHE? LINDSAY!”
“She's gone?” Jaina casts round frantically. Further down the corridor, another door bursts open and an elf in healer's scrubs limps hastily towards them, long red ponytail swinging behind them. “But you were keeping an eye on her, weren't you?”
“The window was open- little fucker was always flexible- LINDSAY! LINDSAY, THIS ISN'T FUCKING FUNNY ANYMORE! LINDSAY-!”
“Jainey, I left my gun in the bedside cabinet. Go get it.” Daelin yanks his phone from his chest pocket. “When did you last see her?”
“She was on the laptop, seemed her usual emo self, LINDSAY! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU MYSELF, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!”
Jaina yanks the bedside cabinet open-
It's empty.
“Da, where's the gun?”
“Right there, Jainey. Hello! This is Anchor, I need immediate contact with Weathervane and Witchwood-”
“It's not there.”
“-we have a Code Blue in Dalaran- It's got to be there, I left it there, it's not in my bloody trousers!”
“Da, I think she's-”
The laptop screen flares to life as she jostles the papers beneath it.
Jaina fumbles to push her glasses back into place.
To: [email protected]:
I hereby give notice that I have vacated my hired property at 30a Grommash Hold with immediate effect. You may dispose of my belongings at the Bare Bones homeless shelter. Please do this in person and do not hand anything over to anyone in a black SUV.
Thank you,
L Ravensun
“Let me see!” Jaina squeaks as she's jostled half out of the way by Valeera. “Oh, for fuck's sake, she signed into her email on an unknown device-”
“Scroll down.” Daelin's voice is low behind them. “Any clues as to where she might have gone.”
To: [email protected]:
Nathanos Marris:
Thank you for being curious and following that Paladin Charger with the custom numberplate, all those years ago. Thank you for saving me. And thank you for telling me to take up “that stupid game” with you.
I'll miss you.
And for the love of Belore, ask Lilian out! She doesn't bite! And you'd probably like it if she did!
Until we meet again-
Lindsay
“Nathanos Marris?” The red-headed woman- Liadrin, that must be Liadrin- is frowning down at the screen. “He volunteers at the hospital. Does our bakery deliveries every morning. Lives on a farm on the Eversong border.”
Daelin pinches the bridge of his nose. “Call him. Now. Keep going, Jainey.”
To: [Dark Rangers]:
It has been the honour of my life to lead you as Bansheequeen-QuelThalas. You have given your (virtual) lives for me, followed my orders into oblivion- well, the Oblivion Lands- and grinded for hour upon hour to take us from a nothing guild to a powerhouse rivalled only by Burning Legion and Wildhammer. Undercity is a name that will forever garner awe and respect from those who hear it.
But it is with a heavy heart that I announce my permanent departure.
I have loved you all. Loved every moment with you. I am so sorry that this is so sudden; I request that you not try to find me, for it would put you in danger. Know that you have made the last five years of my un-life brighter and warmer.
May the Dark Lady watch over you all.
Al diel shala.
Bansheequeen-QuelThalas
For a long moment, all three of them sit in stunned silence.
“Using a civilian laptop to send emails to multiple contacts? Potential unknowns? Communal inboxes? I thought she was meant to be smart! She really does have a fucking death wish, doesn't she.” Valeera yanks her own gun from her holster. “Fucking- oh, found your gun, Daelin! ... WAIT WHERE'S MINE?"
“That's just it, Valeera.” Jaina's chest feels too heavy to draw in breath. “That's exactly what she has. A death wish. These emails aren't just emails.”
Valeera stares at her.
Jaina swallows, throat dry with terror. Her eyes are stinging with tears.
“She's saying goodbye.”
Notes:
hope you enjoyed! i promise i'll get to answering comments asap- i'm sick right now but this chapter was 99% done so i wanted to throw it out there into the internet ether. thank you for reading. <3
Chapter 6
Notes:
once again thanks are due to KeiraWinsIRL and also to QueenMelsRevenge for help with this chapter!
tw for: gun fights, eye injuries, car chases, mentions of war and war-related violence, valeera sanguinar making terrible puns
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Evening,” comes a voice from behind an enormous stack of bread. “Don't normally see people in here at this time of day. Or ever, honestly. Unless they're hungry and they smell my world-class loaves-”
“Nathanos Marris?”
A shaggy brown head peers round the loaves. “Aye, I'm pullin' your leg, I knew you'd turn up, Liadrin said I had visitors coming. Have we met?”
“We will have in a second. My name's Lord Admiral Daelin Proudmoore of Kul Tiras, and we're looking for someone, someone who's- vulnerable, shall we say- you seem to know her?”
The man's crooked nose scrunches up. “Let's have a look at her, and I'll see what I can do for you. Quick-like, mind. I've still got a van-load of these buggers to unload.”
“Thank you, Mr Marris.” Daelin side-steps the bread and steps closer, pulls the photo of Sylvanas from his breast pocket; Valeera, one hand on her gun, remains hidden behind the crates, silent as the night. “Do you recognise this woman?”
Thick, calloused fingers gently take the photo from Daelin's fingers.
A flicker of something soft crosses Nathanos' face before he's carefully schooled it into polite befuddlement. “Can't say I do, no.”
Hmph. “Well, clearly that explains why she emailed you that sweet and highly personal note this afternoon. Mister [email protected].”
Silence.
Nathanos sighs. “Alright, so I'm not a good liar.”
“No. Not particularly.”
“Look. Lord Admiral.” Nathanos folds his arms. “She asked me not to tell anyone about her, and I said I would do that for her, on the condition that she call me every weekend'n tell me how she was. And she has.” Glances up to look Daelin in the eye. “I'm not looking for trouble now, Lord Admiral, but I'm not one to break a promise, alright?”
There's the chink in the armour I need. Daelin steps closer. “You're a good man, Mr Marris. So I know you'll be worried, like me, when I tell you that we have evidence to say that she's in imminent danger.” Watches Nathanos' brow tighten. “Worried enough to help us out here.”
There's a long pause.
“I... alright.” Nathanos takes a deep breath. “I thought the email might've been some kind of code. And I've been getting a few alerts for- never mind that. How long's she been missing?”
“Just over an hour. She was under our protection and she disappeared.” Beside him, Valeera flinches away. “We just need to find her.”
Nathanos rubs a floury hand over his forehead. “How much do you know about her?”
“Just give me everything you know.”
“Alright, erm- well, her name's Lindsay Ravensun. The only places she has ties to are her place in Grommash Hold, and her friend Areiel. I can go have a drive around, look for her? I'll probably find her at some point.”
“Where does this Areiel live?”
“I- hold on, where's my phone-” Nathanos tugs an ancient flip phone from his pocket and opens it with a clunk of old plastic. “It's somewhere in my contacts list 'ere. Let me just... take a look at... actually, erm, seems I must have, erm, forgotten to put it in, it's probably in my address book, which is at home, I'll have to go drive home and OI! WHO THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!”
“An incredibly sexy elf, and your phone is now property of the Proudmoore Admiralty,” Valeera says, phone held aloft and clicking away furiously on the keypad as Nathanos snatches futilely at it. “Ooh, you do like texting this Lilian gal, don't you? When's the wedding?”
“Valeera,” Daelin says, voice low.
“Spoilsport.” Valeera peers at the screen. “But I'm warning you, Roly Poly, I'll text her if you don't. We're talking about this Areiel Cloudstrider, yes?”
“Yes, fine, the address is in there, I'll give it you, now give me my phone back!”
“Now now, don't be so sourdough, I'll roll it right back to you as soon as I dough knead it any more-”
Nathanos' boot slams down and Valeera doubles over with a yelp, clutching at her foot.
“You deserved that,” Daelin says, plucking the phone from her fingers. “For the phone, and for the puns.”
“Liadrin loves them,” comes wheezed from the crumpled heap of elf on the floor.
Pulling his own spectacles up from beneath his jacket, Daelin slots them into place and peers down at the screen. “This is in the Eventide, yes? Down towards the Silver Enclave?”
“I think so. I've never been in meself, only dropped Lindsay there. They were both Farstriders. Look, I really need my phone back-”
The phone vibrates in his hand, and Daelin looks down at it.
At the text alert at the top of the screen, the one that reads TRACKING: SYLVANAS. UPDATED LOCATION.
Flip phone, my big Kul Tiran arse.
“You're not being very straight with us here, are you, Mr Marris.” Nathanos has gone very still. “You said the only places you knew of that she had ties to. Strange way to talk about your friend, that, don't you think? Very detective-like language to use.” Valeera's peering up at Nathanos with narrow eyes, still massaging her foot. “Not to mention the fact that you knew she was missing before we told you.”
“I watch a lot of them crime shows-”
“And you have a tracker on Sylvanas.” Valeera's straightened up, glaring down her nose at Nathanos, who glances between them, edging slowly back towards the emergency exit. “Doesn't make you suspicious at all, that, does it- not a step further or I break your arm in six places!”
“Try it, ponytail! I'll mail what's left of you back to Quel'Thalas, express delivery-”
“ALRIGHT, THAT'S ENOUGH!”
Nathanos freezes, hand on the door lever.
Daelin clears his throat. The phone buzzes in his hand; all three of them twitch at the sound. “Mr Marris- Mr Marris, we are on the same side. Sylvanas is our mutual interest. She is in danger, right now, at this moment. I need to know where she is. And you know.”
Nathanos looks down. His jaw muscles work silently.
Exasperated, Daelin holds the phone up. “Valeera, you have any experience with these tracker things-”
Boots thud across the storeroom floor and the handset disappears from his fingers.
“I'm only saying this once, so you perk them ears up, grabby hands. I was assigned by my DCI to follow Sylvanas Windrunner prior to her disappearance.” Nathanos' voice is flat. Hard. His eyes don't move from the screen, thumbs clicking furiously over the keypad. “We suspected the Menethil family of interfering in police matters here in Dalaran, and Sylvanas was a recent and bizarre addition to the family. So- I was told to report back on her every move. Monitor her bank accounts, her outgoings, especially her incomings.”
“Spooky dooky branch, then?” Valeera leans back, scrutinising Nathanos. “Well, aren't you a bad boy, Doughnuts. So you were following her when she disappeared?”
“I observed an argument between her and Arthas Menethil. He made a phone call, and then he put her in the car and he took off.”
“Put her in the car? That's very specific language.”
“It is indeed.” His eyes never leave the phone screen. “I had to follow at a distance- had her tracked, as you've just seen.”
Nathanos pauses. Takes a deep breath. “I couldn't tell you what happened between them, but when I arrived, Menethil's car was gone and Sylvanas had suffered a stab wound to the chest cavity.” Finally looks back up at Daelin, thumbs still moving. “He'd waited 'til it was dark. Dragged her into the tulip fields, metres from the road, in dense growth. I only found 'er because of the tracker. I don't doubt he believes she's dead.”
Valeera's eyebrows rise. “Well, that's a whole new level of sadism.”
“I assessed her in the field, used the emergency kit in the car to stem the blood flow and took her straight to a Thalassian field hospital near Windrunner Village, where she was treated by Areiel Cloudstrider, a Farstrider and advanced medic. And of course, I reported all of this back to my DCI, Drenden, and Areiel to her commander, Alleria Windrunner.”
“Then why isn't it in the official files? Jaina's seen them. They mention none of this.”
Nathanos snarls, eyes once again fixed on the phone. “Because by the time Sylv had recovered from surgery and I persuaded her to come back to Dalaran to testify, my DCI and I had been dismissed for gross misconduct and Areiel Cloudstrider had been discharged from the Farstriders due to 'irregularities in her documentation'.”
Daelin exhales. “Ah.”
“That makes things tricky,” Valeera says.
“A tad.” Still a useful eyewitness. “Does- does Sylvanas know about-?”
“No. She thinks I'm a kind birdwatcher who found her and whisked her to safety. I get a bird-themed something every year for Winter's Veil. Does my head in. I hate birds.”
“My friend Rommath's the same,” Valeera pipes up. “Strictly cockerels only.”
Nathanos ignores her, eyes fixed on Daelin. “And you're not to tell her about me. I'll be the one to break her heart. Besides- there was a part of me was glad to leave that life behind. Gave me the kick up the arse to turn the family farm into the bakery I'd always dreamed of. Believe it or not, I've never been happier.” His face clouds over. “All it took was them bent coppers darkening my door.”
“Want me to take my top off and brighten it up again?”
“Valeera,” Daelin hisses, and shoves her back behind the bread. “I do apologise for her, Mr Marris, she clearly had too much sugar for breakfast.”
“'Salright. I had enough honey traps laid for me in the police force. One more ain't doing me in.” Nathanos sets the phone down on the table and jams his arms folded. “Was Sylvanas alright? When you saw her last?”
“Yes. Nathanos, does she know about the tracker-”
“No.”
Daelin blinks at him.
Nathanos sighs, deeply. “I know, I should've told 'er. She's more'n capable of looking after herself- heck, more capable than I am, I've seen her in close quarters combat, surprised there was anything left of the other guy. Still don't know how Menethil subdued her- but even she doesn't have all the facts. And... well, I didn't want all of Areiel's hard work to go to waste.”
Well, good to know she'll put up a fight. Daelin looks back down at the phone. “My lips are sealed, if yours can keep busy updating us whenever she moves. What's it tracking? Her phone, her car?”
“Psh, she's too smart for either of those. I put it in her necklace.”
“I- her necklace? She wasn't wearing a necklace.”
“No, I know. Never seen her wear it, but she keeps it hidden in her handbag. Blue sapphire necklace. Her older sister bought a pendant with three stones in it- sapphire, ruby and emerald- and divided them up into three matching necklaces, one for each sister.” Nathanos yanks a set of keys from his pocket and holds up a slightly floury van key. “Want a ride or did you drive here?”
“We're alright, but thank you,” Daelin says, eyeing the leather raven keyring dangling from Nathanos' hand. “She give you that?”
Turning the keys to squint at the raven, Nathanos chuckles, a warm rumble deep in his chest. “Aye. Hideous, innit.” Strokes his thumb over its well-worn wing. “Well. 'Nough of that. Shall we get going?”
-0-0-
“ONE MOMENT, JAINA! Sorry, the hallway's full of muddy boots and muddy coats, I swear I'm the mother of two baby hippos, how are you, Jaina? Wasn't expecting to see you today, thank you for the phone call- Rhonin's in the-”
The door bangs shut and Vereesa squeaks as Jaina grabs her by both arms and all but throws her against the wall.
“Reesa, look at me. Look me in the eyes.”
“Jaina? What- what's going on? Of course I'll look you in the eyes, I can't really look anywhere else right now, what's-”
“Have you seen Sylvanas?”
Vereesa's eyes widen. Her mouth opens and closes wordlessly, like a fish out of water.
Jaina shakes her by the shoulders, banging her back into the wall. “HAVE YOU SEEN SYLVANAS? YES OR NO?”
“SHE'S DEAD, JAINA!”
“NO SHE ISN'T, SHE'S ALIVE, VEREESA, LISTEN TO ME! SHE'S ALIVE!”
Vereesa's knees buckle beneath her and suddenly Jaina is the only thing keeping her upright.
“I- Jaina? What do you- what kind of sick fucking joke, RHONIN-”
A blur of blue cashmere jumper and smart slacks comes bolting out of the home office and suddenly Rhonin's hands are over Jaina's, he's taking Vereesa's weight, pulling her into his arms as she sobs, great heaving sobs that tear out of her body. “How could you,” she wails, clinging to him. “I trusted you, Jaina Proudmoore!”
“Jaina, what the hell's going on?”
“Sylvanas is alive.” Vereesa keens, low in her throat. “Reesa, you know me, you know I'd never say that if it weren't true- she's alive, I had her at the hotel and now she's gone, have you seen anyone today who looks like her? Do you think Alleria might know where she is?”
“Alleria? Jaina, I- I don't even think she's in Dalaran- her new girlfriend, I- this... you're serious, aren't you? Please tell me you're serious- tell me you're serious TELL ME!”
Jaina nods wordlessly.
“You- are telling me Sylvanas is alive. She's alive. Right? Right?”
“Yes.”
Vereesa's hand latches onto hers, trembling furiously. Tears drip down her face from eyes that stare at Jaina in wordless, desperate hope. “Promise me this isn't a joke, Jaina. Promise me.”
“I promise you.”
“You've seen her?”
“Seen her, held her, she knocked my father out with a hardback book.”
Something between a sob and a laugh bubbles up from Vereesa's chest, a second before she collapses bonelessly back into Rhonin.
“Well,” Rhonin says, still balancing her in his arms, “that does rather sound like her. She put me in an armlock the first time we met. Remember that, Kim'jora?”
“Sh-she said she was testing your mettle,” Vereesa sobs.
“She tested my ligaments for sure.” But Rhonin's staring at Jaina, arms tight around his trembling wife. “Where's she been, then? Five years, Jaina, surely she would've reached out to us- she loves Vereesa fiercely, you know that-”
“She couldn't. It was- it was in her best interests to let Arthas think he'd killed her.” Jaina drags in a breath. Her heart is pounding in her throat. “There's a whole story, Reesa, but I need to find her, alright? I need to know she's safe. I think she was planning to give herself up and we- we cannot let her do that.”
“I- Arthas? What does he have to do with-”
A door bangs open behind them, and Jaina cranes round to a tall, rake-thin quel'dorei woman with iron grey hair, cradling a small boy in her arms.
Glaring directly down at her with furious eyes.
“Minn'da!” Vereesa jumps up and runs for her, throwing her arms around her. “Minn'da, Jaina- Sylvanas is alive, Minn'da, she said she's seen her! We need to go and find her right now!”
“Careful, Kim'lune, Galadin's finally asleep. Let's not wake him up now, hmm?” The woman- Lireesa, that's what Da said- carefully disentangles herself from Vereesa, keeping the sleeping Galadin carefully level. “And I'm afraid that Dr Proudmoore must be mistaken. My Lai'lune has been gone for years, Dr Proudmoore, Belore rest her soul- you must simply be in contact with some elaborate scammer.”
“Lady Windrunner-”
“I do apologise that you've come all this way. Perhaps we could offer you a lift back to work.” Lireesa turns her back, gently rocking the boy in her arms. “Rhonin, could you get Vereesa a fresh cup of tea? I've put Giramar down, he was just about sleeping by the time I-”
“LADY WINDRUNNER!”
In the silence that falls, all heads turn slowly towards Jaina.
Lireesa's expression is tight with anger. “Explain yourself, Dr Proudmoore,” she says, low, cold. “Now.”
Jaina drags in a long breath, exasperated with herself, exasperated with Vereesa, exasperated with Sylvanas- “Lady Windrunner, she's alive. Sylvanas is alive. And well, the last time I saw her. But she's gone missing. And I would much rather talk about this on the road looking for her, please, so shall we go? I promise, I'll explain everything, everything I know, but we need to find her, really, really need to find her, we need to get going.”
Yanks the front door open-
And Lireesa pushes it shut again with a bang.
“I'll stay here with the boys. Wait for you to return from this little errand.” Lireesa's eyes are so hard. Her mouth is thin in her pleasant face. “You might take my son-in-law and my daughter for fools, Dr Proudmoore, but you shan't see me buying into whatever nonsense you have dreamed up, do you understand? Now- Vereesa, I'll put them to bed at seven, if that suits you both. Remember to take a coat. And you, Rhonin. You're... rather prone to sniffles.”
And she turns on her heel, brows pursed, and marches back into the front room without so much as a backwards glance.
Staring after her retreating back, Jaina's only broken out of her daze by a hard shove from Vereesa as she scrambles past Jaina and out of the door, Rhonin following close behind.
-0-0-
Lireesa watches silently as Jaina's car peels out down the road.
Pulls her phone from her pocket and taps the screen, still cradling Galadin in one arm, and lifts it to her ear.
“You were right. The Proudmoore woman does know,” she snaps, without allowing the voice on the other end time to speak. “This is a problem of your making! You and your little idiot! You have sixty minutes to find and kill Sylvanas and get the body to a secure location. Collateral damage is likely, so make sure you mop up afterwards. Sixty minutes.” And she throws the phone back onto the sofa, breathing hard through her nose, and stares down at her sleeping grandson's face.
“I won't let this empire of ours crumble,” she tells him. “I won't.”
-0-0-
Hello, Jaina! I have 59 minutes of driving time left before you must refuel or recharge me. Drive safely!
“I will do no such thing,” Jaina tells the car as she yanks the gearstick into Sports Mode.
“Jaina?” Vereesa's directly behind Jaina, watery eyes wide in the rear-view mirror, curled up against Rhonin in the back as the car roars away. “Your dad's saying to go to the Eventide. He's just about to read out the JAINA WATCH FOR THE RED LIGHT!”
They swerve straight through the intersection at the end of Vereesa's street, sending cars screeching left and right in their wake.
“Sorry,” Jaina pants, white-knuckled on the steering wheel. “Valeera must be rubbing off on me.”
“Valeera?”
“It's a long story- HOLD ON!”
And Rhonin just has enough time to grab Vereesa and pull her close before they're both sent flying.
“You alright back there?” Jaina's eyes swerve frantically from the road to the rear-view mirror and back. “Where did you go?”
“We're fine,” Vereesa calls back, and the car rocks beneath Jaina as they scramble up and out of the footwell. “Oh- here we go, Daelin's typing again- he's quite slow, isn't he?”
“Big thumbs- WATCH OUT!”
And for the second time in as many hours, Jaina floors it over the railway crossing with a split second to spare and Vereesa and Rhonin scream as the blinding headlights from the train fill the car-
BANG and the car skids violently to the left and Jaina fights to regain control as they career down the street and no please not into another car stop STOP
They lurch to a standstill, an inch from the front of a cafe.
Jaina stares into the wide-mouthed, bloodless face of a woman sat in the window, toasted sandwich still held midway up to her mouth.
“So sorry to disturb you,” she mumbles. “Don't mind us.” And reaches down with a shaking hand to put the car in reverse and silently, looking carefully round all the while, reverse back onto the road.
“It's, um... it's, it's down the street to your right, Jaina,” Vereesa says dazedly from the back. “Do you think you could, um, do you think we could not do that again?”
All three of them jolt in their seats as a siren starts up directly behind the car.
“Actually,” Rhonin croaks, “Jaina, floor it.”
“I'm so sorry, both of you, I'm so sorry-”
“FLOOR IT!” Vereesa screams.
Jaina's foot slams down and all three of them shriek as the car lurches away and down to the right, throwing up a huge cloud of dust in front of the blue flashing lights bearing down on them and some go swerving off the wrong way but the sirens are still coming coming from multiple directions “Shit, shit, shit Vereesa where now?”
“Uh- left- perfect- and now we need another left- there's a roundabout coming up, you need the third exit- Belore save us now go straight- that's it- did we lose them? Third exit again at this one- and just past that red car on our right JAINA DON'T HIT IT ah well done!”
Jaina's jerked back as Vereesa hauls herself up using the driver's seat and peers out past her. “Not far now! Oh, behind the silver car- NOT THAT SILVER CAR- yes, perfect, now-”
A slender hand clamps down onto her shoulder. “Hear me out, we dump the car here and run. Who's in?”
“What? No!” Rhonin stares at her. “We can't just leave the car here-”
In the distance behind them, another siren wails.
“Actually, maybe we can,” Rhonin finishes, and grabs for the door handle.
Shivering as the cacophony draws nearer, Jaina snatches up her bag and shoves the door open. “Lead the way, Vereesa.”
Vereesa is gone like a bolt of lightning, Rhonin right on her tail as Jaina scrambles out and belts it after them.
-0-0-
“Good morning, how can I h-”
Areiel Cloudstrider is promptly squashed behind her own front door as two humans and a quel'dorei barge past and run straight into her kitchen.
“Sorry,” one of them calls back. “Are you Areiel? I really hope you are, or this is a bit awkward.”
Massaging her forehead, Areiel turns back to the doorway, and the three figures still stood outside, peering into her hallway; one's hood slips enough that she can see Nathanos' face peeking out from beneath it, and she offers him a soft smile that he returns. “Yes, I'm Areiel. Good to see you again, DI Marris. Are they with you?”
“The blur in blue and white was my daughter,” the other man outside says, scratching his beard. “My name's Lord Admiral Daelin Proudmoore, we're here on official Kul Tiran business, believe it or not. May we come in?”
“It doesn't seem anyone's waiting for permission today, so do come on.”
They tramp on through-
The third figure pulls her hood off, and Areiel scowls at the mane of blonde hair that cascades out of it. For real? “Sanguinar!” The blonde hair turns, a smirk on her face. “What the fuck are you doing in my house? The nerve of you after- not so much as a word before you left- and you did the same to Sylvanas! We were squad-sisters, she told me everything!”
Valeera grins lazily, descending with feline grace onto Areiel's perfectly fluffed sofa. “Weren't you in for a treat, then! Relax, Cloudstrider, there just happened to be a bed available. We were never anything more than that.”
“Yes, it was a hospital bed! In which I was treating you! What did you seduce Sylvanas in, a fucking tree?”
“I mean, that would indeed have made it a fucking tree-”
“Enough.” Daelin Proudmoore holds a hand up. “Areiel- we're actually here looking for Sylvanas, but Jaina, can you explain what in the Tides is going on with you three?”
“We're being chased by the police,” says a familiar voice from the kitchen. Areiel blinks. Vereesa Windrunner? “Jaina had to abandon her car and we walked here. Ran here.”
As if on cue, a police car goes screeching past, sirens blaring.
“Oh goodie.” Areiel pinches the bridge of her nose. A headache is starting to build behind her temples. “How many wanted fugitives am I harbouring?”
“Oh, only three,” the human man in the kitchen pipes up.
“Only three-”
The doorbell rings.
“I- just stay in there,” Areiel snaps, and slams the kitchen door shut on her way back to the front door, ignoring the yelp from behind it. “And keep quiet!”
“That was my foot!” Vereesa yells after her.
Areiel yanks the door open-
Sylvanas Windrunner blinks up at her from beneath her hood, clutching her backpack in both hands. “Anaria shola,” she says softly. “Can I come in?”
“I think you'd better, because my house is full of people looking for you.”
Those silvery eyes widen. “What?”
Areiel grabs her by the elbow and hauls her inside, ignoring her protests, and all but throws her into the living room. “Here. Let me know when you're done talking, and the wanted criminals can leave via the basement tunnel. Enjoy!” And she stomps back into her office and slams the door.
-0-0-
For a moment, a long, long moment, Sylvanas doesn't dare move.
She stands, back pressed against the door, backpack clutched in front of her like a shield as Daelin stands slowly. As Nathanos slumps back against the sofa cushions and exhales in relief.
As Jaina emerges from the kitchen, beaming. “Oh thank the Tides, you're here, you Tides-damned idiot, you're safe, you're- thank the Tides-!”
She's crossed the living room in a split second and Sylvanas yelps as she's grabbed by the arm and dragged into a hug so tight she can barely breathe. “Don't you ever do that again,” Jaina hisses in her ear, even as she rubs up and down Sylvanas' back. “Ever! We've been looking everywhere for you! I broke traffic laws for you! Lots of them! Now- your sister's here.”
And she's turned-
Vereesa.
Staring at her.
The sister she misses so much it hurts.
The sister she thinks of every hour of every day.
Staring at her with such love in her face that Sylvanas loses her breath.
She's-
She's the same and yet so different. Softer. Hair longer. As beautiful as she ever was. Reaching for her slowly, with trembling hands, as though Sylvanas might startle, brushing her fingertips over Sylvanas' as though afraid she might shatter into a thousand pieces.
In that moment, Sylvanas feels she might.
“Sylvanas,” Vereesa whispers, and the word is reverent, adoring. “Sylvanas. Lai'lune.”
Her tongue is thick in her mouth when she speaks. “Kim'lune, I- I'm sorry-”
“No! No, don't you dare, don't you dare apologise, you've- Minn'da will be so-”
MINN'DA “Don't tell her!”
Vereesa lurches back as though slapped. “Why? She'll want to-”
BANGBANGBANGBANG and Sylvanas grabs Vereesa and pulls her behind the bookshelf as a hail of bullets shatters the window.
-0-0-
Phone clutched in one hand, Liadrin wheels herself as fast as her chair will go down street after street, bowling unsuspecting pedestrians out of the way as her eyes rake up and down for the car Valeera sent her a photo of, a little sea-blue hybrid with the numberplate JA1NA and it must be down here she must be down here-
The phone pings with an updated location for Valeera.
Only a few streets away, looks like she got to Areiel's safely. But Liadrin can't breathe yet. Through an alleyway, past a police cordon- round the front of a cafe? Would Lireesa target a cafe? Of course she would- and down to the right, come on come on the tracker must be right Valeera knows her shit-
There's the little blue car. Skewed across the road.
A bullet hole in the rear right side of the car.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathes softly.
BANGBANGBANGBANG from two streets away and Liadrin yanks her own gun from the holster on her wheelchair and zips away.
-0-0-
“ANCHOR ONE TO SCHOONERS, IMMEDIATE RESPONSE TO MY LOCATION!” Daelin's barking into his phone, Valeera behind him ducking and diving to return fire as best she can. Vereesa is trembling in Sylvanas' arms. Her hands hold Sylvanas in a vice-like grip, too tight to get round, Daelin had a gun he might still have a gun- “REQUESTING ARMED BACKUP, RESPOND IMMEDIATELY- IS ANYONE THERE? CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?”
“Is anyone hurt?” Jaina cries. Hands run over Sylvanas' back, round to her chest over the scar and she throws Jaina off instinctively only for Jaina to misunderstand and pull her shirt to one side and she snarls and pushes her back-
Her hands brush a gun in Jaina's back pocket.
Daelin swears loudly to her right. “Nobody's answering- Jaina? Did you pick up my gun?”
“Yes, I did, it's right here in my SYLVANAS!”
Sylvanas yanks it from her pocket and shoves Jaina at Vereesa as she slides past both of them and ducks out to return fire-
One shot two shots a scream one down one to go she aims at the other gets the shot off half a second before a bang and he's falling I didn't get him who got him
She's hit in the face.
She falls back.
-0-0-
It was a cold day. Sylvanas remembers that.
Death comes for us all in the end, her gai'minn'da had said, looking at the toy soldiers in Sylvanas' hands. I will be no different.
Her gai'minn'da, the woman for whom Alleria was named. Holding Sylvanas on what Sylvanas didn't yet know was the woman's deathbed. You make up the future, my resilient little Windrunners. I spent my life building an empire. I taught your minn'da well. And she and you and your sisters will continue it, so no, I have no regrets.
She'd been so small, she hadn't even known what an empire was, as she played with those toy soldiers atop the bedclothes.
She certainly hadn't understood the concept of death.
Or her gai'minn'da's legacy, that she so proudly parroted to her classmates and teachers at Falthrien Academy. My gai'minn'da introduced che-mi-cal warfare to Quel'Thalas. She is the first Ranger-General to use bi-o-ha-zard weapons and weapons of mass des-truc-tion.
Her classmates gaped at the long words she knew.
Her teachers moved quickly on, leaving Sylvanas sat in silent tears, confused and hurt because everybody else got a that's wonderful, well done you and she didn't, just another failure, just like the meltdowns she had, when the guards that took her to school and stood in the corridor pulled her away from yet another prospective friend-
Her gai'minn'da, the woman whose hands held her so gently, who played toy squirrels with her, who sang Thalassian nursery rhymes in a voice that crackled from a lifetime of bellowing orders. How could that tiny elfling that Sylvanas had been, how could she have known just how much blood stained those soft old hands?
How could that tiny elfling have known that her own skin would sting and peel beneath the weight of her gai'minn'da's legacy as she carried Uther away from Stratholme?
Stinging like-
“-her eyelid, I can't see any damage to her eye but I can't be sure until I have a closer look, Sylvanas? Sylvanas, can you hear me?” Areiel's voice. Close. Warmth on her face, on her cheek. “Sylvanas, stay down, you were hit by shrapnel, it's cut your eyelid, I need to wash your eye out.”
Sensation returns in a rush, a rush that leaves her light-headed and nauseous. “Did I get them?”
“You got them.” Her eyelid is pulled up and it stings and she yelps and tries to push Areiel away but Vereesa grabs her hands. “Belore, you're bleeding a lot, Sylv. You didn't bleed this much after Arthas stabbed you.”
A strangled, horrified noise from Vereesa. “He what-”
Banging on the door. “Police! Police, we're here to check on your welfare, come and open the door!”
“Right- who isn't holding Sylvanas, eyewash or a gun? Daelin, thank you. Just make sure they're real police.” Cool water on her face. A form over her, with Areiel's dark hair. “Key's on the table- let me just-”
Gentle fingers ease her eyelid up. “Can you see me, Sylv? Any pain from your eyeball?”
“No, just- just my eyelid.” She blinks the fluid out of her eye as best she can. Looks up at Jaina. Still so beautiful, so my eye must be working.
“Alright. Just a bit more eyewash, alright? Vereesa, make sure she's lying flat- lovely, thank you so much.”
Vereesa's hand gently tilts her head, thumb stroking over her temple. Sylvanas reaches up to lay her own fingers over it.
“I love you so much,” Vereesa whispers.
Footsteps somewhere in front of her. “Everybody alright? Who's this on the floor?”
“She's fine.” Nathanos, a dark shadow, moving in between her and the newcomer. “Let's see your warrant card.”
“I've checked it, Nathanos. His name's DCI Drenden-”
“No it bloody well isn't!”
The figure reaches for something at their waist and the weight of the gun disappears from Sylvanas' other hand as Jaina leaps up and a gunshot rings out.
The body thuds to the floor.
Silence.
“Jainey,” Daelin whispers, and rushes towards her.
Shoving Areiel and Vereesa away, Sylvanas pushes herself up and reaches for Jaina as she crumples to her knees, whimpering. “Jaina- Jaina, it's alright. I've got you. Give me the gun.” Tries to inject authority into her voice, even as Jaina wails, loud and guttural and Sylvanas' heart aches for her. “It's alright- Jaina, Jaina, I've got you. Just put the gun in my hand.”
A shaking hand drops it into Sylvanas' palm.
“That's it. I've got you.” Blood is dribbling down her face and soaking her shirt but she ignores it, her free arm wrapping around Jaina's shoulders. “Daelin, can you take-?”
She holds the gun out towards him, handle first.
It's slid from her fingers and she immediately pulls Jaina into a hug with both arms, just like Alleria did with her the first time she killed someone. “You did the right thing,” she soothes. Daelin is kneeling beside them, rubbing Jaina's back, heartbreak written across his face. “You've nothing to be sorry for.”
Jaina clings to her like a drowning woman, muffling her sobs in Sylvanas' bloodied shirt. “I killed a- killed him, I killed a man-”
“He would have killed us.” Jaina's hands fist desperately in her shirt. “You were so brave, Jaina. You're incredible. You protected us all. I'm so proud of you, Proudmoore.”
“Yes, you did do the right thing, Doctor.” Nathanos tilts the man's head this way and that, frowning. “Bugger's got a gun too, hidden in his waistband. That's what 'e was trying to get out- I recognise 'im from somewhere, can't place 'im. Daelin?”
“Alright, I'll come and have a look. Jaina? You alright if I go and see if I recognise him?”
Jaina nods jerkily and clutches Sylvanas tighter.
Reluctantly, Daelin stands, and- giving Jaina's back one last rub- moves over to kneel beside Nathanos. “Give me a moment to get my glasses out- Tidemother take me, that's Terenas Menethil.”
Sylvanas stiffens.
Terenas Menethil.
The man who demanded me as a fucking prize.
Her vision darkens at the edges, and this time, it's not blood. Where's the gun? I'll shoot him again-
“That's whomst now?” Valeera leaps up, cackling. “This is definitely a diplomatic incident now. They're juicy, they are.”
“Yes, Valeera, it's Terenas Menethil. I don't- what in the name of the Tides is he doing skulking around in disguise as a police officer?”
“As in, Arthas' ann'da?” Vereesa's voice is sharp. “The Arthas you just told me tried to kill my sister?” Her lips are drawn back in a snarl as she glares at the body on the floor. “What's he doing here?”
“Well, as of a few seconds ago, he's not doing an awful lot.” Nathanos is already rifling through the man's pockets. “You're sure, Lord Admiral?”
“I'm sure.”
“Well,” Jaina says, voice weak, and drags in a deep, shuddering breath, glancing up at Sylvanas through eyelashes sticky with tears. “Now I can say I have daddy issues.”
The tightness coiled in Sylvanas' chest starts to unwind.
“Silly bugger's still carrying his official ID an' all.” Nathanos is looking back at the group, holding it up for the others to see. “Not very good at subterfuge, was 'e? Think 'e might've been midway through a shave.” Drops it on the floor and starts pulling odds and ends out of the man's trouser pockets. “He's still got shaving cream on 'is cheek.”
Gently pulling Jaina back in again, Sylvanas turns her head enough to peer at Nathanos, busily organising possessions on the floor beside the man's body. I recognise that level of precision. Trained precision. “Not as good at subterfuge as you, it would seem.” Nathanos stiffens. “You're not just a birdwatcher, are you, Nathanos?”
Determinedly not meeting her eyes, Nathanos sighs, his hand still in the man's coat pocket. “I'm sorry, Sylv. I'll explain everything- I'm on your side, alright? I promise. That's the most important thing. I meant it when I told you I just wanted to be a friend. I did.”
Another guard stood outside my classroom at school- “Are you a friend, though?” She snarls, blood dribbling down her cheek and into her teeth. “You lied to me- after I trusted you.”
“Please believe me, Sylvanas, I had to-”
Jaina bubbles with sobs again.
Sylvanas turns back to her, breathing in the lavender scent of her hair. She's so warm. She's holding me like she cares, when was the last time anyone held me like this- stop that Sylvanas, she doesn't need you, she just needs reassurance STOP
“It's alright, Jaina. I- I won't fight him,” she finishes, lamely, and strokes Jaina's hair back, tucking it behind her little round ears.
Mouth firmly downturned, Nathanos drops the man's coat back down and peers at the little piles beside him. “You- Valeera, wasn't it? See what you can get from the bugger's phone.”
“I don't take orders from you, Cupcake.”
Jaina pulls away, and Sylvanas lurches forwards as her comforting warmth disappears. Belore take you, Windrunner, YOU'RE meant to be soothing HER- “No, but you take orders from me. Examine the phone, Sanguinar.” Jaina's eyes narrow. “Now.”
“Jainey, don't you worry about-”
“Alright, Proudmoore, don't get your rigging in a twist.” Valeera scrambles up behind her. “Where's the damn phone? Keep an eye out the windows. Liadrin should've been here by now-”
“Liadrin is here,” comes shouted from the garden, and Valeera bounces on the spot, squealing with joy. “I'm just checking the vicinity in case Dumb and Dumber had backup. You're welcome, by the way, Sylvanas.”
“For what?”
“Shooting the person shooting at you- SHIT THAT'S THE SUV! RUN!”
In a flash, Areiel's bolted into the kitchen and flung a trap door open. “Down! Down there, now!”
Sylvanas barely has time to glimpse Valeera hauling Liadrin through the window before she's scooped up in strong arms and pressed to Jaina's chest as they run down the steps and into pitch black-
And the trap door slams shut behind them.
Notes:
thank you so so much for reading! i so hope you enjoyed- comments do indeed make more words appear, and faster! (and also make my day :D)
Chapter 7
Notes:
SPECIFIC CONTENT WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: murder, gore, gunshot wounds, mentions of war crimes/genocide AS WELL AS OTHER WARNINGS LISTED
(i promise, there will be a happy ending, and it is coming soon.)
we're getting to the juicy bits here folks- i'm not as experienced with writing action etc, and most of this was written in one sitting, so i'm always keen to hear your thoughts! hope you enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Has anybody got a light?” comes Liadrin's voice in the pitch black.
Jaina cringes back as four phones light up all at once, pointing directly at her and Sylvanas, who yelps and slaps at them. “Ditelia'jaela not into my face!”
“Sorry,” four voices mumble, and all the phone lights shut off simultaneously. “Oh.”
“For the love of the Light,” Liadrin mutters, and clicks on the enormous torch in her hand and everyone shrieks and covers their eyes again. “Sylvanas, put that hand down and let me get a look at you.”
“Your pick-up lines haven't improved,” Sylvanas mutters, still cringing away.
Jaina tries to ignore the acrid surge of something in her gut as Liadrin shoves the torch into Nathanos' hands and bends closer, peering at Sylvanas' eyelid. “Well... it's clotted now, at least. You might get away without stitches. Vision alright? Not blurred?”
“I'll let you know when I don't have three thousand watts of light shone directly into my face-”
“Is this soundproof? This... wherever we are?” Daelin, practical as ever, his hand warm on Jaina's shoulder. “And lightproof?”
“Yes, I've been down here before. We're quite safe. What am I sitting on?”
“That would be me, light of my life,” comes Valeera's strained voice from below.
Sylvanas' legs extend, and-
And it hits Jaina like a freight truck that she's still holding Sylvanas bridal-style to her chest.
She's so warm. Arthas was always kind of cold, but she's warm like a heat lamp, even though she's so small and wiry and YOU NEED TO PUT HER DOWN JAINA “oh by the Tides, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-”
She quickly drops Sylvanas down to stand on her own two feet; Sylvanas staggers, blinking dazedly and Jaina quickly steadies her, well done Jaina, she's injured and you're dropping her “I'm so sorry!”
“Jaina, it's alright. It's fine.”
“I didn't ask before I picked you up-”
“We were under attack, Jaina.”
“Yes but consent is important!”
Sylvanas fumbles for a camping chair, pulling it over to perch on. “Jaina Proudmoore, you have my express and blanket consent to pick me up and carry me out of danger whenever you see fit. By the grace and love of Belore. Happy?”
“I... yes. But still. I'm sorry.”
“So would I have been if you hadn't picked me up. You have excellent aim. Dead centre of the forehead. You should have been a Farstrider.”
Jaina's whole body goes cold.
So that- stuff- that stuff on the floor was- was brain matter. That's what brains look like. Little bits of brains. Speckled on the floor.
The acrid feeling rises in her gut again.
“Jaina?” Sylvanas launches off the stool, ignoring the cries from those around them, grabbing Jaina's forearms smearing blood on them just like the pool around Terenas' head I killed him I KILLED A MAN I KILLED HIM “Jaina-”
Jaina lurches to the side of her and is unceremoniously sick.
“Belore, not my nice futon,” moans Areiel behind her. “It's dry clean only!”
-0-0-
“Belore, what an idiot,” Zendarin Windrunner mutters, kicking Terenas' corpse.
Drathir- wimpy, Drathir, but predictable, though why Zendarin brought him along, he's still not entirely sure- braces himself against the wall. Not a battle-seasoned wimp, then. “Was- was it quick?”
“Lights out, nobody's home. That quick.” Zendarin's already got his hand in the man's pockets. “Whoever it was knew what they were doing. They've gone through his clothes. Fuck. Do we know if he had anything classified on him?” And, at Drathir's blank stare: “Stratholme! Did he have anything to do with Stratholme?”
“N-no. Not- not on paper. I don't think. Everything was digital.”
“Fine. Go tell Lireesa.”
Drathir stumbles out of the room, emptying his stomach on the way.
Zendarin glances up after him, mouth twisting in a grimace. He's far too green for this shit. Should have kept him in the administrative halls of Silvermoon where he belongs, covering up for Lireesa like a good little minion-
“I left the car running. I- I'll be right back.” Dar'khan's voice is weak. “And then we'll- we'll go.”
“No. I'm not letting you drive in the state you're in.” Zendarin jumps up, Terenas forgotten in his haste to comfort Dar'khan, which is of course entirely because I have to put up with him for the rest of the day nothing more NOTHING MORE- “Let's just say he had nothing on him. Come on. Let's get you something hot and warm to drink.”
Who's stupid enough to carry important stuff on thumb drives with them anyway?
-0-0-
“Haven't seen anyone carry a good old thumb drive in a while. I guess Terenas wasn't one for cloud storage. Ironic, really, seein' as the bugger's on one now.”
Sylvanas, still rubbing up and down Jaina's back, cranes round. Nathanos' face is lit in stark profile by Areiel's laptop's screen; he glances up to her, and just as quickly down again, cheeks colouring. “Sorry, Sylv. Bad- bad timing, I know.”
“It's fine,” Jaina says faintly from within Sylvanas' and Daelin's arms. “It- it happened. I'll... come to terms with it sooner or- hic!- or later.”
Sylvanas reaches for the bucket only for Jaina to shake her head and push it away.
“Bugger. It's all stuff to do with Stratholme, I can see the file names, but bastard's put a passcode on it.” Nathanos slumps back, exhaling hard through his nose. “Well... that won't matter when we have an IT expert and we're not in a basement hiding from people with guns, I s'pose. Erm... maybe we could-”
“Ask Sylvanas.”
Sylvanas' head jerks up, lips drawn back in a snarl. “Why would I know his password?”
“No.” Daelin's gaze doesn't waver. “About Stratholme.”
“I- maybe let's not do that,” Vereesa babbles, quickly moving forwards in front of Sylvanas and Sylvanas' heart aches at the sight of her, standing up for me, nobody's done that in years, not since Alleria- “Sylvanas is hurt, and we- we have a lot to catch up on. I really don't think this is the time for us to talk about Stratholme.”
“I know you do!” And why does Daelin look so damn kind when he looks at her, that little smile on his face. “I know you both do. But I've got to understand what this is all about, and I know enough to know this is about Stratholme in some way or another. And I want it to come from you, Sylvanas. Not some damn files on a thumb drive.” His fingertips brush her shoulder. “I want you to be the one to tell us. Then you have all the time in the world with your sister. We're on your side. Yours, Sylvanas.”
Sylvanas stares at him.
“I'm on your side too,” Rhonin pipes up, perched elegantly on the arm of the futon Areiel's busily scrubbing. “Oh! Areiel, you missed a bit-”
He ducks the towel thrown squarely at his face.
He must be so good for her. For their children. Softness to her brittle, where Minn'da carved into her like she did me. “You... won't be on my side.” She can't look at Vereesa, can't make eye contact. “Maybe... maybe when we're out of h-”
Gentle hands slowly, lovingly, wrap around hers.
Sylvanas looks up at Vereesa, and the tears dribbling down her face.
“I love you,” Vereesa whispers.
Sylvanas' vision mists over too, and she scrubs the tears roughly off her cheeks and Rhonin nearly topples sideways in his rush to press a clean handkerchief into her hand.
“Oh. I... thank you- I'll get it all bloody-”
“That's what washing machines are for.”
All Sylvanas can do is nod weakly. Looks round to Areiel, who's dropped the towel, ears alert, eyes trained on hers. “You weren't at Stratholme, were you?” Her voice is low. Raw. “You don't know what happened.”
Areiel shakes her head. “No, but I know you. I know you wouldn't get yourself into anything stupid on purpose.”
“I was there,” Liadrin says, voice strong in the small room. “You carried me to safety.”
“You did?” Vereesa's voice is so thick with pride it hurts Sylvanas, deep in her chest.
“Did you,” Valeera breathes, staring at Sylvanas as though she were Belore herself.
“I- it's not like that, don't be proud of me!” Sylvanas tears her hand from Vereesa's and cradles it to her chest as though it hurts. “You have no reason to be proud of-”
“I don't believe you.”
Jaina's voice is soft behind her. Small. Like Jaina, huddled in her father's arms, staring at her but there's steel in her eyes good on you Proudmoore- “I don't believe you, Sylvanas. So.”
And she squares her shoulders, jaw tight, resolute. “Tell us what happened.”
Silence.
Sylvanas takes a deep breath. Stares down at the floor. At her boot, flecked with blood, hers or Terenas', she isn't sure.
I'm sorry. I'm... so sorry, Vereesa.
Her heart thumps painfully in her chest.
“Minn'da- Lireesa, Ranger-General Lireesa Windrunner- she did use chemical weapons. She did use chemical weapons at Stratholme, in contravention of the Dalaran Treaty of Personal Rights.” Her voice echoes, cold, defeated. “She ordered me and my rangers to place the barrels in strategic locations throughout the city, to blanket it. I asked her what was in them. She said explosives. I... didn't feel it was my place to question.”
Her throat is so thick. “I... I had no reason to...”
“Go on,” Jaina says softly.
“It- one of them detonated whilst we were still in there. Liadrin included. I realised they weren't explosives. My gai'minn'da, my great-grandmother, she was the one who invented-” Her breath is coming so fast and shallow she can barely talk. “I told Thyala to go- go back and- and throw the barrel we'd just placed into the well. Mitigate some of- and she- never came back. It exploded in her hands. It... I killed her.” Acid rises in her own craw. “I killed her with that order. It didn't even matter. Stratholme was lost, and... all I could do was grab Liadrin- I failed her. All... all of them, I failed all of them.”
Daelin leans forwards. “But why? Why use chemical warfare in the first place? What had happened in Stratholme?”
“They were preparing to overthrow the Menethils and expose Lireesa's influence within Lordaeron. I- I say they. I mean a political group within Stratholme. Descendants of the Arathi. Terenas wanted to be sure they would all be killed. Stamp- stamp the ideology out like the plague it was, he said.”
Vereesa touches her wrist, the mottled band of scar tissue, where she had scooped Liadrin up off the ground. Sylvanas pulls her hand away as though scalded.
“I was the only one who knew about the existence of the chemical weapons. What- what they were. Lireesa knew that. I'm sure she told Terenas. And I- I shouldn't have, I doomed him, it was stupid, so stupid-”
“You told Uther.”
Sylvanas nods miserably. “I told him everything,” she whispers. “He- he'd lost so many- he just wanted to know- I doomed him. And they stitched him up like a Belore-damned sunfish. I just... I just wanted them to face the consequences, but- but then when Uther called on me to testify with him- I told him I needed twenty-four hours to prepare. And that's all the time she needed. To- I... my own minn'da, I didn't know how to- I just needed some time to prepare myself, Vereesa, I should have been tougher, I- it's all my fault!”
“Sylvanas-”
“NO!” They all cringe back from her howl, she didn't even sound elven, don't comfort me don't tell me this isn't my fault I couldn't be her perfect weapon it's my fault IT'S MY FAULT “DON'T SAY IT VEREESA-”
“It wasn't your fault.”
Jaina's hands are on her back. On her shoulders, shoulders that are shaking with sobs and she can't hold them in they sting her injured eyelid and she tries to pull away but Vereesa's there, and Liadrin, and Rhonin and Areiel and Daelin and she tries to push at someone anyone-
Arms come round her, and Vereesa still wears the same perfume.
Sylvanas howls again into her shirt.
-0-0-
Arthas draws the curtains back to the sight of Lireesa Windrunner stepping from a black SUV.
Why? Grinding his teeth, he stomps through to the hallway and yanks the door open. “What do you want from me now-”
“Your father's dead.”
Arthas blinks. “He- what did you DO?”
“Dead. Shot through the head. Unlike my traitorous daughter, who is still alive and kicking because you're a moron who missed two opportunities to kill her!” Lireesa grabs his sleeve and smears something on it. “There.”
“What's that?”
“Your daddy's brain matter.”
Bile rises in Arthas' craw as he stares, dumbfounded, at his glistening suit sleeve.
“What- you- monster,” he croaks. Dad? “Where-”
“Not important.” Something flashes and his head jerks up to the barrel of a gun. “Say hi to him for me.”
“N-”
BANG and he knows nothing more.
-0-0-
“Sip of water, Sylv.”
Eyelashes sticky with blood and tears, Sylvanas glances up to Valeera. “S-since when do you-?”
“Wait on you hand and foot? You saved my wife's life.” Valeera cranes over to plant a big, sloppy kiss in the dead centre of Sylvanas' forehead. Sylvanas blinks. “I think you've earned yourself a glass of damn water. Now, speaking of my wife- hot stuff and I will be in the corner with Muffins.”
“My name is Nathanos,” comes grumbled from the corner.
“Whatever you say, Cookie.” And she's off.
Rhonin leans over and silently proffers the handkerchief again.
“How long has Lireesa been messing about in Lordaeron?” Daelin's pacing beside them, thumb worrying at the skin around a hangnail. “I had my suspicions, but this is- this is far more than I thought. Do you know the full extent of it, Sylvanas?”
“Not any more.” Wiping off the last of her forehead, Sylvanas drops the handkerchief back in her lap. “She had three daughters to ensure the continuation of the Windrunner empire. Alleria was to take over from her, I was to be the spare if she refused, and Vereesa was simply the safety margin. The one afforded a normal childhood. So, to answer your question... ultimately- exactly as Lireesa wished it- I knew as much as Alleria didn't.”
Daelin's voice is gruff when he speaks next. “You can't- you can't have children like... like you're- like that. That's not how it bloody works!”
Sylvanas looks up at him. Her chest feels hollow. Empty of life. “It was for her.”
Daelin stares at her, eyes so full of compassion Sylvanas has to look away.
“Vereesa then went and had children,” she says to her lap. “Became the most valuable of us. Alleria ran off and I refused to follow Lireesa.”
“I- Sylvanas, are you-”
Vereesa's lower lip starts to wobble. She sucks in a shuddering breath. “She's never- I knew you and Alleria were treated differently, but-”
“She never had the guards follow you to school. You had friends.”
Vereesa opens, and closes her mouth. “No,” she admits, in a small voice. “And yes. I did.”
Sylvanas turns away and says nothing more.
“Sylv... Sylv, please look at me.” Reluctantly, she does. Vereesa's eyes are wide. Pleading. “Do you think Minn'da would harm my boys?”
“No. They're the future of her empire. She'll do whatever she can to protect them.”
Vereesa exhales. Her hands unclench in her lap.
“I think she might be harming other people, though,” Nathanos says from the corner. “Jaina, you don't need to worry 'bout your husband any more.”
“Why?”
“Bugger's dead.”
Jaina sucks in a sharp breath. “Dead-?”
“News just broke. Him and Terenas.”
Jaina's body, pressed into Sylvanas', starts to tremble again.
“Jaina-” Sylvanas twists round only for her lap to be full of sobbing Jaina.
A head is pressed into the crook of her neck. A head that smells of strawberry shampoo and her hair is so soft. Like spun silk. Belore take me, you might be the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes upon, and this is NOT the moment but your hands are very soft as well-
“-sayin' they were both shot.” Oh. Nathanos. “They've got Forensics on site and I think they might have a whiff of what's going on, there are officers from Quel'Thalas being called in.”
“How do you know that?” Daelin's staring at him. “You telepathic or something?”
“No, they forgot to rescind my police login. You can spend hours on 'ere, nosing round everything they're doing, it's great.”
“Never knew being a baker could be this exciting,” Valeera says, all but bouncing up and down in her chair.
“Stop jostling me, light of my life.” Liadrin loops an arm around Valeera's shoulders as she speaks. “Why would they have officers from Quel'Thalas-”
The door handle rattles.
Sylvanas is up in a second, gun in her hand, kneeling in the shadows and motioning for everyone else to get back as Valeera stalks silently to the other side, flanking her without a word.
The handle rattles again. A fist batters against the door.
And a voice.
“Little Moon? Are you in there?”
-0-0-
Panting, badge clutched in his hand, Lor'themar Theron jumps out of the car and barrels towards the cordons around Areiel's front door. “Hi- Lor'themar Theron from the Thalassian Farstriders- hi- can I come through? I got a call-”
He squeaks as he's grabbed by a very tall orcish woman in Dalaran army uniform and all but thrown into a command tent.
“Bal'a dash to you too,” he says, readjusting his uniform jacket to lie straight.
The woman grunts. “Aggra.”
“Oh, you're Aggra! So we finally meet. Charmed.” Lor'themar extends his hand for a handshake that nearly takes him off his feet. “I've got another nugget for you,” he continues, straightening his jacket for the second time. “Dar'khan Drathir and Zendarin Windrunner left Farstrider's Lodge this morning and crossed into Dalaran soon after. They've been driving round a few key locations- including here.”
Aggra grunts. “It all fits, doesn't it? A Windrunner again.”
“It does.” Belore, it's a relief to be able to speak plainly here, where he's not surrounded by Farstriders that may or may not be Lireesa's lackeys. “Lireesa herself is here too. We don't have a numberplate on the database for her, she usually uses army-issue vehicles.”
Aggra nods. “She's been moving funds around. One thing you can be sure of with Lireesa: she doesn't deal with orcs. Doesn't think anything of us. I've had sixteen officers tracking and monitoring her higher-ups and she hasn't got an elements-damned clue.”
Lor'themar snorts. “Elven racism at its finest. I'm surprised at Lireesa, honestly. You wouldn't think she would be that stupid.”
“Never put anything past anyone. Not least stupidity-”
“Little Moon? Are you in there?”
Lor'themar's head jerks round. Aggra's mace is already in hand. “Who's that?”
Alleria? “I'm not sure- give me a moment, I'll go and check-” He's already halfway out of the tent and in through the front door, past the brain-smattered carpet, down and into the kitchen-
Just in time for a door to open in front of Alleria Windrunner and Vereesa Windrunner to step out and shriek at the sight of him.
-0-0-
“Alleria?”
“Vereesa?”
“Lor'themar?”
“Daelin!” Daelin pipes up from the sofa. And, at Jaina's gimlet-eyed glare: “Sorry, love. Felt left out.”
Jaina rolls her eyes at him and turns back-
Just in time to spot Sylvanas sneaking past the cluster of elves chattering hard and fast in Thalassian and she's almost to the bathroom window by the time Jaina grabs her elbow.
“Where are you going? Sylvanas, we've done this once before, it was not fun-”
“You'll want me to go sooner or later, I may as well go now, whilst Dalaran is unaware I'm alive-”
“Lady Moon,” says a deep, rich voice behind them. “I'm so glad you're safe.”
Sylvanas' arm goes stiff beneath Jaina's fingers.
“Alleria.” Her voice drips derision, in a way that makes Jaina's hair stand on end. “Took you long enough, didn't it? After you left me to clean up your-”
“I've just told Vereesa most of the story. When we're- when we've sorted all of this, I will tell you everything, I swear, I tried to get to you at school before I ran, but the guards saw me- did- did she do it... do it anyway?”
“Do what anyway?”
Silence. Alleria's ears, perked high, wilt.
“Then she probably did.” Alleria laughs, low, sad. Her eyes are full of tears. “Her mother's final great invention. Extremely lethal in low, targeted doses. She wanted to keep it within the family.”
“What?” Vereesa, just behind her, sways on the spot; Rhonin hurriedly steadies her. “You didn't tell me that bit, neither of you- Sylvanas-”
“Sylvanas?”
The male elf- Lor'themar, she heard Vereesa call him- steps forwards. “It is you! I thought I recognised your voice- BELORE PLEASE DON'T SHOOT ME!”
Jaina swerves to grab Sylvanas' hand over the gun as it points dead at Lor'themar's head. “Hey, hey,” she soothes. “Nobody else needs to get shot today. Please. It'll give me a headache.”
“Not to mention me,” Lor'themar says faintly, hands up above his head. “I'm on your side, I promise, I've been working with Alleria and Xal'atath, chasing Lireesa for years. Including investigating your disappearance. So I'd, um, I'd appreciate it if you didn't shoot me. My remaining eye is very nice and I like it where it is.”
“You're a Farstrider.” Sylvanas' aim doesn't waver. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you.”
“I can give you quite a few good reasons why you shouldn't kill me- alright, alright, I'm sorry, poor timing, here you go.” Eyes on her the whole time, Lor'themar digs in a satchel slung across his chest and proffers a file. “You're welcome to read through it, most of section three is to do with you.”
Sylvanas' eyes swerve to Alleria.
“I promise, Sylv.” Alleria's gaze never wavers from her sister's. “If he were any danger to you, I would have killed him already.”
“Ah, sisterly love,” Lor'themar mumbles. “So touching.”
There's silence.
“Put it away,” Sylvanas says abruptly. “But I'm keeping my eye on you. Who's Xal'atath?”
“Not the eye-related jokes- I'M SORRY I'M SORRY! Xal'atath is Alleria's partner, she helped her get out of Quel'Thalas. Specialist in hacking. She's back at our HQ, terrifying my officers.”
“Sounds like my dark delight,” Alleria says absent-mindedly, fiddling with her necklace.
And then she stops. Her fingers go still on the gem.
“Sylvanas.” Her voice is sharp, urgent, so much so that Jaina's gut clenches. “You're not wearing your necklace.”
“It's in my bag. Why-”
Alleria swirls round to Vereesa, who startles backwards. “And- and you're wearing-”
She lunges forwards and Vereesa shrieks.
“HEY!” Alleria goes flying backwards as Rhonin steps in front of his wife, every inch of him taut with anger. “YOU DON'T TOUCH HER, GOT IT?”
“Lireesa put trackers in their necklaces. I'm sorry. I should have said. I'm sorry. You're right.” Alleria's chest is heaving, her eyes still fixed on the necklace. “Little Moon, I'm sorry. Can I-? Sylvanas, can I see yours too?”
Sylvanas' hand slips out from beneath Jaina's and goes to her backpack-
“I took it out of Sylv's.” Nathanos, skulking just behind the doorway, staring at Sylvanas with anxious eyes. “She's fine.”
“Alright. Vereesa?”
“I don't- there's a tracker in my necklace?”
“Yes.”
Nathanos takes a careful step forwards, still glancing guiltily at Sylvanas. “May I?” And, at Vereesa's nod, finally looks away and gently unclasps the necklace and slides it off her. “Yes. There it is. Same as Sylvanas'. Bugger me three ways to Sunday, why didn't I think-”
“Then Lireesa knows where we are.” Alleria's jaw is tight, teeth bared as she snarls round at the doorway. “No doubt she's on her way. Too much is out of her control now. She'll want to deal with this herself.”
“My bill for redecorating is going to be astronomical,” Areiel moans behind them.
Jaina lets her hand trail down Sylvanas' arm, to her shoulder, squeezing gently. “Are you alright?” she asks softly. “I feel like so much has happened for you just now.”
Sylvanas makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a hiccup. “I... I don't know,” she finishes, and lets the gun fall to her side, safety already clicked into place. “I don't know how to respond when someone asks me if I'm alright.”
Jaina rubs up and down her back, just like Sylvanas had for her. Feels the wall of muscles beneath her hand, toned and primed, relax ever so slightly. “Would you like me to hug you?”
“Yes. By Belore, yes.”
And so Jaina does, pulling her in close, hiding her from prying eyes as the rest of the world bears down upon them.
Notes:
thank you for reading! for every comment, my dog gets a peanut butter treat <3 (don't worry, he gets them anyway because he's a good boy, but i can always double them up heheh)
Chapter 8
Notes:
hi yeah, i'm sorry this took so long. been working, been starting the process of moving house... it's all happening here.
content warnings for: violence, unethical medical practices, weapons and bioweapons, sylvanas windrunner making a dad joke
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Do you think Lireesa's still got her automatic handgun?”
Somewhere to her right, Jaina hears Alleria snort. “Do I think fish swim, Vereesa? The woman has never met a gun she won't carry. She's like you used to be with your toy dragonhawks, actually, Little Moon, do you remember those? The ones you stole from me. They were actually mine, all of them, except the-”
“Oh for the love of Belore, this again? After everything that's just-”
“They were my dragonhawk toys!”
“You- you never played with them! You said I could have them!”
“I said you could borrow them!”
“I did borrow them! I just omitted to return them-”
“That's still called stealing, Little Moon-”
“Is this really the time?” Rhonin attempts, only to be shoved aside by his own wife. “Apparently it is,” he says, to nobody in particular, and casts a pleading look towards the middle sister.
Curled into herself in the midst of the bickering, Sylvanas is suspiciously quiet, staring sightless at the floor as one chipped black fingernail picks at the skin around her cuticles.
“Don't you just love family reunions. Remember when you pushed Tandred overboard for refusing to share the jammy biscuits, Jainey?” Daelin perches beside them, busy checking the mechanism of his own gun. “It would've been hilarious if he hadn't had his phone in his pocket.”
Jaina snorts. “He was more worried about losing his authenticator code for World of War than anything else. Big fan of Undercity.” Glances to Sylvanas, who blinks, eyes meeting Jaina's for a moment. “Said Bansheequeen was his favourite.”
“I'll sign a print if I survive,” Sylvanas says, and rips at her cuticle again. Jaina gently disentangles her hands.
Propped up by Valeera, Liadrin hobbles to the bench seat Nathanos hurriedly pulls over. “Lor'themar's going to give a signal when Lireesa arrives. They're going to feign ignorance when she gets here, buy us some time-”
“It's Lor'themar Theron,” Valeera says, twirling Liadrin's hair around her finger. “Not much feigning will be required.”
“Are you still mad that he didn't give you all the juicy goss on Sylvanas' case?”
“I asked nicely. Then I asked un-nicely. And he still said no!”
“You'd snuck into his HQ with a forged badge, Valeera.”
“I thought that would impress him!”
“Yes, dearest, so much that he arrested you-”
“Xy'vix.”
Everyone falls silent at Sylvanas' voice.
“Xy'vix?” Daelin leans closer. “This must be a new version of Common that I haven't learned yet. What's that when it's at home-”
“A boss on World of War,” Jaina and Tandred chorus, and blink at each other.
Daelin sighs, heavily. “Nerds. My children are nerds.”
“Xy'vix,” Sylvanas repeats, but louder, more urgently, as though sure of herself now. “Jaina, when you first pull in the Xy'vix encounter, he does a frontal cone attack across the room through the doorway, and you have to bait him in.”
“Yes, you have to tag team him with the tanks and lure him into the boss arena with no exit-”
Jaina's eyes widen.
“You want us to bait Lireesa in here,” she breathes. “Into a room with only one entryway and no other exits. Sylvanas, that's genius!”
“It's fucking suicide,” Alleria snaps, shoving Vereesa out of the way; Vereesa shoves her straight back. “If you get it wrong- Little Moon, fucking stop already-”
“Then we don't get it wrong,” Sylvanas says, simply. “What happens next during the Xy'vix encounter, Jaina?”
“You have to disable his field of vision by dousing the torches on each side of the room. Alright, so we turn the lights out and lure her into the dark.” Jaina's mind is racing. “Then when she's-”
“Hold on, hold on,” Daelin interrupts. “That's all fine and dandy, but if she can't see, we can't either.”
“No, she's- stay still you little shit- coming in from outside,” Alleria grunts, wrestling with Vereesa in a headlock. “Sylvanas has a point. Her eyes need ow fuck you crucial seconds to adjust, and don't you fucking tickle me ours don't-”
“Then he focuses on one tank, and he can't be taunted by the other, until his health reaches thirty per cent, when he uses his Gas Explosion mechanic.” Without breaking eye contact with Jaina, Sylvanas stands and delivers a swift chop to Alleria's funny bone. Her sisters spring apart, howling. “The raid party needs to be close to the door so they can line of sight the attack.”
Daelin blinks at her. “... I mean, I understand each individual word you said.”
“Lireesa never goes anywhere without Gai'minn'da's weapons.” Sylvanas smiles, a sharp fang poking out from her upper lip, and Jaina momentarily forgets how to breathe. “We're going to turn this bunker into the new Stratholme. But only she will be in it.”
Silence.
“Brilliant,” Daelin breathes. “Or it'll kill us all. One way or the other. Who's in?”
“My home insurance premium,” Areiel wails, and sinks into the sofa, burying her face in her hands.
Alleria pats her on the shoulder. “It could be worse. It could be explosives-”
The rest of her sentence is cut off with a shriek as Vereesa tackles her from behind.
-0-0-
Lor'themar waits.
The sun is hot on the top of his head. His shoes aren't quite worn in enough; the sides pinch his toes, restrict their movement ever so slightly. His cufflinks refuse to remain straightened.
Funny what you think about, he muses as he stares sightlessly at a very pretty shrub, when you may be seconds from death.
The shrub is very pretty. He pulls his phone out and snaps a picture of it.
“If I survive this,” he tells the shrub, “I'll plant another one of you in my garden.”
The shrub continues being pretty.
Lor'themar rocks back and forth in his too-tight shoes. Clasps his hands in front, then behind, then lets them fall to his sides.
“I would like to survive,” he says to the shrub. “That would be nice. I had plans, you know? I'm sure Lireesa Windrunner also has plans, I've been studying her movements for years, so I know she has lots of plans, but they involve a lot more death than mine. My plans mostly revolve around my garden. A nice cruise. Maybe replacing the living room carpet. I was debating a nice Eversong oak for the hardwood floor, what do you think?”
The shrub rustles. Lor'themar chooses to believe it approves.
“Well then,” Lor'themar says, and plants his feet a little further apart. “In that case, I'd best make sure this works.”
And a black SUV comes careening around the corner.
-0-0-
Alone in the dark, Sylvanas Windrunner waits.
Ready to tank the boss.
I'm nervous. I'd obviously got too used to playing DPS.
Her eye stings, somewhere, but the pain is muted. Her breath sounds too loud in her own ears; she tucks the drawstrings of her hoodie into the neck to keep them out of the way.
Daelin's gun is heavy in her hand.
She can't admit how badly she wants Jaina here with her.
Jaina's safe, she chides herself. That's the most important thing. Safe out there, hidden in the depths of Areiel's house with her father and their evidence against Lireesa, it's for the best that she's not involved in this.
She can't be involved in this. It's not safe for her, Jaina is too innocent for Sylvanas, Sylvanas doesn't deserve her, Jaina deserves better than Lindsay Raven-
Than Sylvanas Windrunner, failed soldier, failed heir, failed defender of Quel'Thalas.
She stares down at the floor, and in that second, she truly does feel dead.
“It's for the best if I die,” she tells herself firmly, and clasps the gun tighter, weighing it in her fingers. “I'm too problematic. Too many people would harm others to get to m-”
A hand slaps over her face.
Sylvanas twists to throw it away and she's halfway up and moving to shooting the person behind her but they spring round and grab her gun arm just as Minn'da taught us wait a FUCKING SECOND
“Alleria?”
“Hi,” comes her sister's voice from the gloom. “You say it's best if I die one more time, and I'll shoot you myself.”
“That seems counter-intuitive- wait, hold on, what are you doing in here?! Alleria, she's going to use a biochemical weapon!”
“Yes, she is.”
“A bioweapon that kills everyone it touches!”
“Yes, it does.”
Sylvanas grabs her by the forearms. Feels Alleria's muscles flex beneath her fingers. For half a second, she's tiny, clutching those same arms as Alleria helped her take her first few stumbling steps. “Are you- Alleria, you're fucking insane, you have a child, and a girlfriend, Alleria, you need to get the fuck out-”
The shadow before her moves and her hands are suddenly empty.
Gentle fingers touch her cheek.
“No,” Alleria whispers. “I'm not leaving you again. Ever.”
-0-0-
“Good morning, DCI Theron,” Lireesa Windrunner says, and pulls a gun from her bag. “I need you to step aside.”
Lor'themar eyes the gun. “Obviously,” he says, keeping his voice carefully neutral, “you are my superior, and I must do as you say.” He moves to one side, motioning for Aggra to do the same; she does, her eyes fixed on his.
In the shadows beyond her, Valeera vanishes.
Lor'themar clasps his hands behind his back, and lifts his chin. Forces himself to smile. “Would you like me to stand everyone down now that you're here?”
Lireesa turns back towards him, and the movement lifts her jacket the half-inch it needs to expose three glass vials strapped to her back.
Lor'themar swallows. Hard.
Lireesa's eyes flick across his face, and her mouth curls in a smirk. “Yes, DCI Theron,” she says, voice low, amused. “I think you should. Wouldn't want anyone to get hurt now, would we?”
“No,” Lor'themar chokes out. His heart is hammering in his throat. “We wouldn't.”
“Then stand them all down. There's a good boy.”
And Lireesa disappears through the kitchen door, leaving Lor'themar staring after her, struggling to breathe.
-0-0-
“I- what the fuck are you doing, Alleria, if you don't get out I'll fucking throw you out-”
“Minn'da told you you had the 'flu.” She can't see the sadness on Alleria's face, but she can hear it, clear as day. “I took you to the “doctor”. I never found out what his real name was, everyone in the military called him Putress.”
Sylvanas stares at her, at the pallid glimpse of Alleria's face she can see in the dark.
“They had to be so precise in how much they gave you, to make sure you were immune to it without killing you. It's so toxic, Sylv- so toxic, you saw what it did to Thyala- they weighed you, took measurements, everything. You... I kept waiting for you to question something.” The pad of a thumb strokes her eyebrow. “I think because I wasn't questioning him, you didn't feel like you could, either.”
Her chest feels like it's constricting on itself.
“They wouldn't let me touch you.” Alleria's voice is hardly there. “You were a child. I think you- you'd just tried to ask a girl out for the first- the first time, to the movies? Sweet girl- and Minn'da said, she said no, you couldn't have weaknesses, you might be opening yourself to blackmail! Like you weren't a fucking teenager, and you just wanted connection with something, anything, and I couldn't even- you were right there, all small in the blankets, and you were so cold, and-”
Her voice hitches. “I couldn't even hold your hand.”
“I don't remember.” Sylvanas can't quite swallow her panic back. “I don't remember any of this!”
“Good. That's good, Sylvanas, it means- it means the coping mechanisms worked.” A hiccup. Alleria's hand is trembling on her cheek. “I remember mine. With Putress. I was never as good as you, you know, never as disciplined, Xal says that's a good thing, but I still feel guilty-”
The door opens, and a vial smashes on the floor and Sylvanas feels the air filling even as she leaps round and opens fire.
-0-0-
“LADY ADMIRAL!”
Halfway through an official summary of Quel'Thalas' nautical trade system- virtually non-existent, from the looks of it- Katherine glances up. One of her husband's guard. “Fairwind, is it?” she says nonchalantly, already on the next sentence of the shipping regulations for Sunsail Anchorage. “Can I help you-”
A bright pink shopping bag is slammed down on her desk.
“Ah,” Katherine says, evenly, and puts the document down. “I was wondering where that had got to. Let me put it back with the others.”
“I wouldn't,” Fairwind pants. “It's got a big knife in it.”
Katherine freezes halfway to the handles.
“A knife? Is Daelin alright? Is Jaina-”
“I don't know.” Fairwind is frantic, eyes darting this way and that, clothes rumpled, obviously slept in. “Someone sent a knife to Jaina. That's when I left. Daelin wanted it tested to see whose blood was on it, probably Sylvanas' blood- oh yeah, Sylvanas Windrunner is alive- oh and I heard on the radio that Arthas Menethil's been shot- Lady Admiral, permission to send everyone?!”
Alright. So it's safe to assume that Daelin has got himself in a spot again.
“Mobilise the entire Proudmoore Guard immediately. Take them straight to Jaina. Dae can look after himself, but make sure he's accounted for as soon as possible.” She's already out of her chair, running down the hallway with her inner watch chasing after her, yelling her name. “Now, Fairwind! NOW!”
And she grabs her pistol from the wall and bolts for the helipad.
-0-0-
Fuck, Sylvanas thinks wildly, ducking out of the line of fire. We triggered the Gas Explosion early. Must be a bug.
“Traitors, both of you,” Lireesa yells, and Sylvanas dives to one side as a bullet clangs off the wall behind her. “I could have given you everything, Sylvanas!”
“You nearly killed me!” Sylvanas screams back. “Twice!”
“Oh, many more times than that,” Alleria says, only to shriek and leap away from a volley of gunfire.
Lireesa pants, gun aloft, eyes wild. “All you had to do,” she hisses, scanning frantically from side to side, “was shut up and be a good little girl. Both of you! EITHER OF YOU!” Her hand jolts up and the sofa explodes, shredded by bullets. “Why couldn't you just DO AS YOU WERE TOLD!”
“I did,” Sylvanas cries. Stick with the plan, don't let her draw you in, stick with the plan- she's just Xy'vix on Deity difficulty- she tried to kill you, SHE NEARLY DID- “I did everything you asked of me, Minn'da! Everything!”
“Sylv, don't listen to her.” Alleria's voice is thick with panic. “She's trying to manipulate you- don't listen to her, Sylv, listen to me! We're going to-”
“I loved you so much, Sylvanas.”
“We'll move out at the same time-”
“I held you every day when you were little. You were so pretty. White-blonde and doe-eyed. I showed you off to everyone I could.”
“You aim for her leg-”
“You used to curl up in my arms after school. Draw on my skin with your fingers. I would have let you do it forever if you had so wished.”
“I'll take out her dominant arm-”
“You told me I was your whole world, Sylvanas. And you were mine. My everything, Sylvanas, my whole wide world.”
“Sylv, on my count, you move-”
“You could still be my everything. I would still have you. I would still love you. My daughter.”
“SYLVANAS! MOVE! DON'T LISTEN TO-”
“You were always terrible at hide and seek,” a voice purrs in Sylvanas' ear, and the muzzle of the gun on Sylvanas' throat is almost as cold as the lips on Sylvanas' cheek.
-0-0-
Alleria was supposed to give them a signal.
Jaina waits, heart in her mouth, waiting. Every muscle is primed to move.
If Lireesa has used one of the vials- Lor'themar said he saw three-
“I say we move.” Rhonin's face is white. “We can't leave them in there.”
“Alleria said it was fine-”
“I can't see either of them.” Nathanos' voice is strained. “My camera isn't sending anything back. Something's interfering with the signal.”
“Like a bioweapon,” Valeera mutters, already halfway up before Nathanos pulls her back down again by the belt. “Hey! Buy me dinner first!”
“You go in there, you're dead,” Nathanos says without even looking up at her. “I'm- Lord Admiral, what are your orders?”
Jaina cranes round-
And catches a wisp of something green and vapour-like floating out from the door.
She's off before Nathanos can catch her.
-0-0-
“Let her go.” Within half a second, Alleria's there, her gun at Lireesa's temple. “I can kill you before you kill her.”
“Dead woman's trigger,” Lireesa says simply. Her other hand rifles through the pockets of Sylvanas' hoodie. “You're slacking, Sylvanas. Where's your backup dagger?” Tuts, her breath hot on Sylvanas' cheek. “I taught you better than this.”
Sylvanas forces herself to swallow. “What do you want, Lireesa?”
“I want- Lireesa?” Her voice is rich with faux outrage. “I birthed you, fed you, clothed you, paid for the finest tuition and you call me Lireesa? I'm quite offended, Sylvanas Alleria Talana Windrunner.”
“Hello, quite offended,” Sylvanas grits out through her teeth, free arm rising slowly. “I'm Sylvanas.”
“Oh, for the love of-”
Sylvanas twists and the gun fires into nothing as she spins and in a split second, there's a knife at Lireesa's throat.
The door rattles.
“Oh, clever,” Lireesa whispers. “You see? I did raise you well after all!”
And she fires the gun into Alleria's leg.
“ALLERIA!” It takes everything in her to keep the knife in place, even as Alleria falls with a scream. Blood spatters on the wall in front of them. Fuck, arterial, I- “You- she's your-”
“She's not my daughter.” Lireesa's voice is cold as stone, loud even against the frantic battering on the door. “You could be. If you make wise decisions now.”
Alleria groans, faint, breathless.
“You can let me go,” Lireesa says, and holds up a roll of bandages, “and save your sister's life. Or you could kill us both.” Turns, her eyes boring into Sylvanas'. “And then I take you.”
“Take me-”
“Home.” She's smiling, but it doesn't reach her eyes. “Where you belong.”
“No,” Alleria whispers.
Sylvanas draws in a long, unsteady breath.
Jaina, I'm so sorry.
Drops the knife.
Lireesa beams. “There's a good girl-”
The door bursts open and Sylvanas dives down as gunfire rains into the room.
Notes:
thank you so much for reading, i so hope you enjoyed! for every comment that is left, my dog Arfie gets a belly rub <3
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LittleNickyTheStoryteller on Chapter 1 Sat 17 Aug 2024 04:37AM UTC
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GhosterM on Chapter 1 Sat 17 Aug 2024 05:25AM UTC
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Greythwaite on Chapter 1 Wed 21 Aug 2024 05:37PM UTC
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Madi0r on Chapter 1 Sun 25 May 2025 11:28PM UTC
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