#████ ꜰʀɢᴍɴᴛs; ᴜɴꜰʀɢᴛᴛɴ // drabbles.

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          it was as if the world had gone white, the first time she had seen Vereesa walk in with Arator. Her sister had given her a sympathetic and slightly wistful expression upon seeing their three faces—hers, Arator’s and Turalyon’s—so shocked, mouths hanging open, eyes wide. She didn’t know what to do other than try to stammer out some sort of nonsense, as if words meant anything right now.

          He was a young man, now. Tall, strong, pointed ears shorter than an elf’s but with features as finely carved as one. Her heart was so full of love and pain at having not seen him in so long, it felt like it anchored her down where she stood. She barely even registered movement until she felt arms wrap around her shoulders, very nearly lifted her off her feet. Tears welling up in her eyes, Alleria kissed her son on the cheek, and then hugged him so tightly that he could not have let go of her if he had wanted to. Then, another pair of strong arms enveloped them both, and Turalyon was there, and this time he really did pick them both up off of the ground, laughing and crying on both sides. A family. 

          ( She could see Vereesa smiling at them over her husband’s shoulder, and there was a twinge of pain in her little sister’s eyes that she couldn’t place—a sort of melancholy envy, and a faraway look. )

          Certainly there would be talk when this was over. Certainly there would be questions and pain and reconciliation to make after so much lost time. But for now—just this moment, she was determined to be happy. Happy. Together. With her family.

          And for the first time in a long time, the world was quiet.

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What's the best and/or worst memories you've had with Sylvanas and Vereesa? Either all together or separate, up to you

RELATIONSHIP QUESTIONS MEME

(cut for length)

                  ❝ I have memories. It’s hard to call a lot of memories good or bad. Many are both... bittersweet, because of how things have changed... and I prefer not to dwell on the past these days, since the void likes to mock memories while you relive them, good or bad, but... I can conjure some things that I remember very strongly. ❞

          The air was gold with spring, sunshine filtering through the twisting canopy of the white-trunked trees and down onto green fields dotted with yellow flowers. The remains of a picnic were scattered at the bottom of the blooming hill, down in the fields — they had come up to enjoy one free afternoon that they had at the same time, something that was becoming rarer and rarer as the two of them became more and more important.

          Alleria was sitting down on the ground in the dappled-shadows underneath a large tree. She could hear the branch under Sylvanas’s hand creak before it even moved, and, without looking up, shouted from where she sat on the ground,  ❝ That won’t support your weight. ❞

          Sylvanas, ever indignant, replied, laughing, ❝ What are you implying, Lady Sun? ❞

          ❝ I’m not implying anything, just that— ❞

          Of course, it didn’t matter how much she said. Within a second of speaking, her sister had swung, grinning, onto the next branch, and she heard the telltale snapping of wood as it bent downwards. Alleria scrambled to roll out of the way, getting onto her hands and knees just as Sylvanas landed on top of her in a shower of golden leaves, swearing like a cheated goblin. They both let out an OOMF as the air was knocked out of them. Finally, a second after Alleria was beginning to push her off, the branch came hurtling down from above, covering them all with a second shower of leaves. Alleria waited a second, and then relaxed her body, laying face-down in the grass.

          ❝ I love you, Sylvanas, ❞ She said, deadpan, her voice muffled into the earth, ❝ You are going to make a fantastic ranger-general. But I am not giving you my sweet cakes after dinner for the next month. ❞

          There was a moment of silence, and then Sylvanas rolled off of her, laughing loud enough to shake leaves out of her own hair. Alleria lifted her head up, and straightened herself out, crossing her legs and dusting off her front. She managed to hold a scowl for a good ten seconds before melting into a soft smile, and then a chuckle of her own. 

          At last, Sylvanas reached forward and re-adjusted Alleria’s hood for her, picking a few leaves out of her hair as she spoke.  ❝ I love you, too. You think I’ll make a good ranger-general, huh? I still think the job should go to you. You’re a better shot than me, you’re faster, and I’ll never outlast you. Plus, you don’t fall out of trees when you climb them. ❞

         ❝ You can and you will, ❞ Alleria said, ❝ You’re younger, but you’re already better than I was when I was your age. I can guarantee you that not a single living thing is going to get past that  gate while you’re standing behind it— as long as you lay off the pastries a little when you officially get the job, anyway. ❞

          Alleria laughed and ducked her head as Sylvanas pulled up a handful of grass and threw it in her face, pouting. ❝ Stop it! I’m not in charge yet, I can be fat if I want to. You’re such a jerk. ❞

          ❝ Okay, okay! ❞ Alleria relented, finally closing her book, ❝ I apologize! You’re my best friend, you know, little sister, I’m just teasing. ❞

          Sylvanas replied by leaning over and hugging her. ❝ I know, but you’re still a jerk. ❞ Then she let go, and laid down underneath the tree, her hands behind her head in a patch of flowers. Alleria stretched out next to her, and finally re-opened her book. 

          You will be the greatest of us, someday, I think, she mused to herself, and everyone will know your name.

          ❝ Riding a horse, ❞ Alleria said, wheeling her steed around, ❝ Is not like riding a hawkstrider. They’re faster, for one, and a lot stronger. A scared hawkstrider will stop, maybe complain— but a horse can throw you, and then trample you afterwards if you’re not— are you listening to me, Vereesa? ❞

          Vereesa looked as petulant as any fifteen-year-old would, staring down the neck of her horse, reins in her hand, keeping a careful and controlled step with her sister as they wandered down the Eversong beach. ❝ Mhm, ❞ She said, not looking up at her, ❝ It’s not that different. I’m a better rider than most of my class, too, hasn’t mother told you? ❞

          ❝ It is different. ❞ Alleria said, keeping her voice level despite her frustration as she realized that her sister was not really listening to her. Vereesa shot her a sour expression as Alleria ignored her final comment, and went on, ❝ When you are learning to ride a horse, you have to remember— VEREESA! ❞

          Alleria grabbed her own reins as she watched her sister spur her horse forward suddenly, taking off down the beach at a gallop that stirred up clouds of sand after her. Urging her steed onwards as well, Alleria charged down the beach in the same direction as her sister plowed on towards where the river met the sea.

         She could see that Vereesa kept her seating well, and rode like someone who was not currently mounted on her first horse. She will be an excellent rider, someday, Alleria thought as she kept step with her little sister, if she doesn’t kill herself first.

          But Vereesa’s horned mare had a good headstart on her, and Alleria could only ride and watch as her sister crested the sandy hill and rode down towards the river. She had a split second thought that Vereesa might actually make the leap, but just as her horse reached the edge of the river, Alleria watched it rear back, and the young elf lost her seating, hitting the sand with a thud as the horse stamped, and then began to meander along the river shore.

          Alleria leaped from her horse’s back and onto the sand in one swift motion the second she got near, and ran to help her sister up off of the ground. Vereesa was not seriously injured, other than being a little scraped and having the wind knocked out of her. She was curled up and didn’t uncurl until Alleria had wrapped a hand around her shoulders and pulled her into her lap, hugging her as soon as she realized that she was unhurt. There were tears in her eyes.

          ❝ I messed that up, ❞ Vereesa said, wiping her face with the sleeve of her shirt, ❝ I messed it up! I could have done it, because I really am a good rider, but I— ❞

         ❝ Oh, little moon, you scared the daylights out of me, ❞ Alleria kissed her on the forehead, ❝ I know you’re good, I do. You’re going to be an excellent ranger someday. I’m sorry if I got snappy with you. Please don’t do anything like that again, promise me. ❞

         There was a long pause, and then Vereesa took a deep breath, and sat up on her own. ❝ I won’t. ❞ She wiped wet sand off of her own cheeks, ❝ ...I’m so stupid. ❞

          ❝ You’re not. ❞ Alleria held out a hand, and helped her sister up as she got to her own feet, ❝ You’re not, I think you’re actually smarter than me or Sylvanas in some ways, and you’re right about being talented, but we all have more to learn. It’s okay. Here, lessons over for the day. ❞

          She could see Vereesa’s expression shift from indignation and frustration to embarrassment, and she replied with a nod and nothing else, ears drooping. Alleria gave her sister a soft, sympathetic smile.

          ❝ ...you want to go get some lunch in the city today, little moon? ❞ She said, moving to go gather the horses. She could see Vereesa keeping her head down, trying to look as pouty and embarrassed as possible, but now with one ear slightly perked.

          ❝ ...yeah. ❞

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          Alleria draws back her bowstring. Her head roars with a cacophony of shrieks and jeers, a thousand voices clambering over one another to be heard among a roiling storm of emotion; anger, fear, disgust, anxiety. She feels like her skull was full of flies, each buzzing drone becoming part of one collective chorus. 

                 ( KI͢LL—̀                 —̕UP̷O̴N ̷T̵H͏E ̶ŞEA̵T ̵OF KI̴N͝GS— ͏                                              ̛ ̛ DANG͠E͘RǪUS͠,͏ DAN͟G͞ER͘OUS͡ ̀— M̡URDĘR͢S͜ AND RUIN͜ȨD̵ L̕IV͏ES,͘                   ̕ ̶ ARE ͘YOU ̀     A̶FRAÍD͜?̷ ARE YO͡U͞ ͜ ͘ ͟ ͞ ̧ ͜ ́ ҉ ̸ ͞ ҉ ̵      YO̸U̴ ́WI͝LL͟ ̡BE AT ̛F̨AU҉L͝T ͝IF͘ ỲO͟U̡ DO NOT ͟ACT҉,                     ͟ ̡Y͟OUR͏               G͝R͟A̢V̢E ̕B̕ENEAT̛H͠ ҉TH͞ȨSE ͜STO̕N͏ES̶ ͠WĮLL N͝EVE̛R͏ BE̢ REMEMBER͢ED,                               ̨ ҉ ̀ ͜ ͘ ̕ ̷ ̡ ͘ ͝ ͘ ͢ D̡Ǫ YOU ̢F͘ANCY̡ ̵Y͞OUR̶ŞEL̶F ̨ TH̡E W̴OL҉F ?̨                                                                              ͡ÒR T́HE͝ ͢DE̶ER ? )

          One shot. That’s all it would take, she watches as Anduin confronts her sister. Jaina, Anduin, Genn, herself — certainly Sylvanas has lost this battle. Her forces are pushed back, her land broken open like a cheap safe. Nevertheless, her voice and stride are confident, with no hint of surrender in her. 

          Alleria can imagine her like this before the Lich King. Proud, confident, unwavering. She did not know the might of the Scourge army, she had not been there— but she can picture the ranger-general with her bow in one hand and her chin held high, fearless before the most fearsome thing any elf has ever seen. This she can picture; the unmovable pride and courage of the Windrunner family. She can hear her mother’s voice: This is your legacy; we will die before we will kneel.

           ( S̵H́EWILL͡S͘A͘LT͢T͟H͢ISÈÀRTH͢BEF͟ORE                SH͟ÉWI͘LLL͘EA̢VE̸ITT͏OB҉ETAKE̴N )

         She does not heed the void lightly. Secrets and futures from the shadow are hard-won, but she tilts her eyes to the ceiling. It’s right. There is no backup here, she can sense no other presence. The Horde has evacuated. Sylvanas is facing down four powerful leaders — Alleria or Jaina alone would be at least an even match for her — with no assistance, not even her pet ranger. Something is wrong. 

          Alleria tightens her grip on her bowstring. She can hear Locus-Walker, see him leaning towards her, saying, it takes no special skill to banish the dead back to the Shadowlands, if you would like to learn... She could end this here, kill her before she could give an order and then flee. She closes her eyes, breathes in—

          Unbidden, an image quiets the screaming crowd inside her head like a hush falling over a theater at the start of a performance; she remembers holding an infant. Her sister. Chubby hands clutch at her hair, marveling at the colorful hawk feathers that she’s tied into her braid. Their mother is gone out for work, and Alleria is thinking about how much responsibility this child will have someday. Their family, and the expectations that come with it, fall heavy on her own shoulders. In innocence, she makes a promise that she will fail to keep: You will be okay, you know. I will never let anything harm you. I swear it. 

          When Alleria opens her eyes again, Sylvanas is gone, and she knows it. She expects it. If she had fired at all, the point of her arrow would not have found its mark, but the wall behind. From when she had pulled back her string, she had known it.

          Murmurs begin in the back of her head, and she follows the other leaders mechanically, but she doesn’t hear them. Her lungs are burning and there is a pricking sensation in her head and limbs, like needles under her skin. She looks up; the others feel it too, as the room floods with poison. 

          They will be afraid, angry; afraid to die, angry at their losses or their only-partial-victory. Alleria is neither. She cannot be afraid. She won’t die here; doubtless Sylvanas would bring her back, not wanting to waste her in such a way, and she would not waste a second chance. In her heart, she cannot find space to be angry; or even sad, or disappointed. She feels numb. Even as Jaina proclaims hold on, with a low, furious confidence, she doesn’t feel anything. 

          Alleria, the eldest of the three Windrunner sisters, holds her head high as the twinge of Arcane brings them upon the floating ship. She takes an unsteady step forward, her breathing heavy as pain seeps out of her limbs with the fresh air. Across the ruined battlefield, the Horde retreats on their airship, their parting glares only a hint at what was to come.

          A thousand years, she thinks, to herself, and was it worth it?