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redisaid · 5 years ago

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In Good Company - Chapter 7

One Voice

It’s elf time. I swear we’ll get to the actual Sylvaina eventually.

6428 Words

Read it on Ao3!

"You've been blessed by Belore," Sylvanas could hear Liadrin say with a laugh behind her.

Followed, of course, by the sound of hurried footsteps. "Bullshit!" Valeera cried out as she jogged up the line. "Let me see!"

"What are you even talking about? Why is everyone looking at my face?" Jaina asked.

Sylvanas turned around to find that the train had stopped behind her, and instead of an orderly line of marching rangers, she now had herself a knot of curious elves tangling themselves around an understandably slightly uncomfortable human.

A human who now had a noticeable pattern of freckles across her cheeks, as Sylvanas knew was normal for the pale ones of their kind to have on occasion, when they spent time in the sun. As she knew was rarer among her own people, and though the same correlation existed, was still considered a sign from their sun goddess of exultation. Sylvanas herself was one of the rare elves to sport a near constant smattering of freckles on her cheeks, but she had also endured it being interpreted as a sign of her worthiness and high birth since childhood.

But, she wasn't about to spoil this. Perhaps, if she could not fully convince this lot that Jaina was worthy of their company, than perhaps Belore herself could.

Valeera leaned in and poked at the bridge of Jaina's nose in jealous disbelief, or perhaps hoping to smudge them away.

"The freckles?" Jaina asked, using the Common word for it, as the Thalassian one was literally just translated to "sun's blessing". "You don't understand freckles? But the Ranger General has them. Right?"

"She's the Ranger General," Belorin offered, as if that would explain anything.

"You are a human," Keloria said to back up her twin sister, though she was equally as unhelpful.

Jaina swatted away Valeera's hand as she went to poke at her again, and waved the curious younger elves that had surrounded her away. "It's not a blessing," she tried to explain. "I get these from being in the sun a lot. Like sunburn. In fact, sunburn turns into these. You should see my shoulders. They're even worse, what with all the swimming we've been doing."

Swimming, that Sylvanas noted Jaina now participated in without much of a second thought. Swimming, which she was in fact very good at. No surprise, coming from the observance of one who was raised by the sea to another. Swimming, which had led the others to start to become much more comfortable with Jaina, though perhaps maybe too comfortable, too tactile, and naked far too often. They were starting to treat her like an elf, which was both a positive and a negative.

A negative in that Valeera had to poke at her a third time to be truly satisfied, and that Jaina was starting to get overwhelmed with the amount of touching that was going on that morning.

A negative also, in that Sylvanas felt the need to step in and help, explain that maybe they should give her some space. But, no. She shouldn't. She would just erase the progress that had been made in those last few days by the lake.

A negative, also, in that she couldn't stop feeling this way.

"I've been getting these all my life. It's just from the sun," Jaina assured them as she successfully warded Valeera off with a gentle shove that time.

"We consider anything the sun does to be sacred," Liadrin tried to explain through another laugh. "So, if Belore marks you, she must be trying to tell us something."

"I hope it's a good thing," Jaina sighed as she straightened out her hood, which still slipped back on her head too much, even after they had attempted to alter it for her short ears not to have any part in holding it up.

"I hope so too," Sylvanas finally butted in, and watched as the younger rangers suddenly seemed very interested in falling back in line as she spoke. "Perhaps Liadrin could enlighten us further once we reach Dawnstar Spire. I trust that you would all be more comfortable hearing a sermon in Magister Drathir's parlor than you would on the side of the trail."

Well, Sylvanas would not be, but that was a thought for another day.

Though the grateful smile that Jaina gave her was a thing that occupied her thoughts for longer than she wanted it to.

The distance that she had planned to maintain was getting harder and harder to keep. Part of it was due to the nature of this ritual, of course. Thalasdiel was as much about re-establishing the bonds between squad members as it was anything else. Thus the months spent in close quarters saw even Sylvanas relaxing her guard and letting her Ranger General mask slip now and then as she spent time in the company of old friends like Liadrin. It was good for all of them to see her as a person too, something she knew she had to show more of, even when she was barking out orders and leading a charge out on the field.

Another part of it was just for Jaina herself. She was so damn interesting, yet gave away so little. Sylvanas found herself watching her more often than not, not wanting to miss anything new. And sun above, Sylvanas was proud of her. Way too proud of her, actually. Jaina was really starting to fit in. Even now, she was still in the middle of the pack that walked behind Sylvanas, chatting with Artemisa, modern slang already creeping easily into her vocabulary that had been down right bookish a mere week ago. Most of the others would hold a conversation with her now, or even tried to start them. Well, most of them. Not all.

That was another mountain to climb.

But also, she could fucking fight. Sylvanas was less ashamed at how impressed she was with seeing Jaina in actual combat. The strategist in her has been busy these last few days, thinking of what a line of arcane archers like Jaina could do in a battle. Of what she might call them. The sheer power of those shots...damn. It was something between arrows and artillery, and Sylvanas was enamored with the possibilities of using such power.

She could never tell Kael'thas, though.

But even having Jaina save their skins hadn't been enough for some of the squad. Valeera was still acting like a child that had been introduced to her new baby sibling and was not at all pleased with the idea of no longer being the center of attention. Or at least that was Sylvanas' interpretation of it. Perhaps the young elf just plain didn't like Jaina. The twins too, seemed to be put off by her still, but they rarely spoke to anyone other than each other, so perhaps that was just normal. And Cindel. Of course, Cindel.

Sylvanas had known that the timing in this case was very poor on her part. But even then, even if Cindel had been back in the squad again another ten years, this would have irked her. No one likes to be outclassed, and even though Jaina had mostly made good on her promise to refrain from using magic, it was impossible for any of them not to notice the thick sheen of arcane that clung to her, singing praises of the human's power and prowess. Sylvanas even wondered if Jaina was aware of this. Probably not.

She gave a glance over to their magistrix. Cindel walked alone, near the end of the line.

"Tessandra," Sylvanas called back to the captain that was the closest behind her. The other women's ears perked up as she awaited an order. "Take point for me for a while, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, Ranger General," the veteran dutifully replied as she began to move in front of her to scan the trail ahead.

"Sylvanas is fine out here, you know," she reminded her.

Tessandra offered a grin to that, which spoke of many things she could not say to her commanding officer, or at least did not feel free enough to do quite yet.

Perhaps, in another month, when the soles of their boots had lost more and more of their thickness, then maybe she would say it aloud. Maybe then she'd be comfortable enough to accuse Sylvanas of what she was always guilty of--of forgetting that there were indeed times that she could be "just Sylvanas", but that she had to act in kind as well.

Sylvanas tried to fit an acknowledgment to all of that in a nod and a flick of her ears as she dipped back down the line. She also had to try to ignore Jaina's hopeful look as she passed by her, and met up with Cindel further behind. She tapped the dark-haired mage's shoulder, and gestured for her to wait on the trail with her.

"Cindel and I will watch our backs for a while, Illeryn," Sylvanas called back to the older captain, who was keeping her usual position as the rear guard again.

"Only if you ask nicely," Illeryn chided as she passed them. At least that one was never afraid to speak her mind. She would even when Sylvanas was in full regalia or commanding a battle. In fact, she had. Many times.

"Pretty please," Sylvanas sneered back at her with a grin. "Go socialize."

"Gross," Illeryn snorted even as she moved up to the middle of the pack.

"I take it you wanted to talk?" Cindel asked as they watched the others begin to fade into the trees ahead.

Sylvanas turned to her and nodded as she set a hand to Cindel's back and bade her to walk along with her.

And pretended not to notice how quickly it was shrugged off.

She gave the smaller woman a brief glance. The last few years had represented a large change in Cindel's life, but her appearance was as it always was. Dark hair, another rare feature for an elf, which she wore in the same loose ponytail she always had. Glowing blue eyes cast to the ground. Ears adorned with just simple silver, but on her neck, a chain that held a pendant with a brilliant ruby shaped like a flame, which she wore proudly over her robes at all times.

"I wanted to ask how you were," Sylvanas finally started, keeping her voice low even though they had dropped pretty far behind by now. "How your family is."

"I wouldn't be here if I thought they wouldn't survive without me, you know," Cindel responded after a moment, finally looking up at her.

"I know," Sylvanas replied softer still. "I have worried for you. And, knowing your husband, I will worry about him and your little girl all the same if you aren't with them."

That finally cracked the first smile from her that Sylvanas had seen in this whole walk. "He's actually wonderful with her. He keeps the house tidier than I can as well. I don't worry about them, so you shouldn't feel the need to."

"That's good. That was how my father was too. He somehow always managed to keep us fed, mostly clothed, and entertained while mother was in the field. The only way I could ever get in serious trouble with him was to get mud on the carpets," Sylvanas said with a laugh.

Fuck. She missed him. Every time she went back to the Spire, she expected to see her father sticking his head out into the foyer to remind her to take her filthy boots off before she dared to walk on his floors. And every time, she would remember to do it anyway, even when the hall stayed silent.

"I have said many things in the past that I did not mean," Cindel went on, eyes on the ground again as they walked. "And I know I've already told you as much. But I know why you worry."

"Your barging into my office in Silvermoon, crying as loudly as the baby in your arms comes to mind, yes," Sylvanas said.

"Things are better now," Cindel replied.

"I know."

"What did you really want to talk about, Sylvanas?” she finally asked.

“Not the past, that’s for sure,” Sylvanas told her. “So we can let that rest where it belongs. I wanted to talk to you about your future here, to make sure you felt it was as secure as I do.”

“Ah, so I see it’s my turn now to complain about the human,” Cindel said with a shake of her head, finally looking back up at Sylvanas. “You might have already guessed how I feel. And now that I’ve seen what she can do, how do you think that is?”

“I feared as much,” Sylvanas admitted. And she had. She had watched as Cindel began to be the one that distanced herself from the others, as Jaina started to find a place within them. As she had kept to the banks of the lake, or taken her dinner to the edge of the fire’s light at night to eat alone.

“You said you had no intentions of replacing me,” Cindel reminded her. “Yet you bring on a mage that is twice as powerful as I have any hope of being and tell me she’s a ranger? What am I to believe Sylvanas? Your sweet words, or my own eyes? If you didn’t think I would last here, you could just say so.”

“And I feared that you still felt the way your eyes told me you did when we first spoke of it,” Sylvanas pointed out as she ran a hand under her hood and tangled it into her hair, pulling at the silvery blonde strands perhaps a little harder than she needed to. “And yes, I regret not doing more to ease your mind then.”

“You can practically taste the magic around her! What’s she doing here? She belongs back in Dalaran!” Cindel said, realizing that perhaps she was getting a little too loud, and tapering off into a whispering yell at the last syllable.

“According to her, she does not. I had hoped the two of you might find common ground there, but that would require you to actually have a conversation with her first. She’s just looking for a place to belong, Cindel. None of the human kingdoms are home to her,” Sylvanas tried to explain. “A story very different, but at the same time, very similar to that of most ranger mages.”

“Well, at least I should take comfort in knowing that she’s well above the level of just opening anchored portals and placing wards. I bet your little sea kingdom princess there wouldn’t take kindly to being given such lowly work,” Cindel spat, kicking aside a fallen branch as they walked.

“You’re starting to say things you don’t mean again,” Sylvanas warned.

“Because that’s all I can do. I’ll never be able to fry a troll’s eyes out of his skull. Don’t think I didn’t see it. That’s how I’m useful, because I allow the rest of you not to be steeped in the mundane. It’s my mundane. My ferrying you a new pair of socks, or teleporting to the depot to ask them for more arrows, or conjuring the kind of mana bun everyone likes as a treat. I will never be her. I will never have that kind of power. I have already found my place, Sylvanas. Until now, even with all I went through after I had my daughter, I was content with it,” Cindel offered, descending into that agitated whisper again.

“Jaina doesn’t want to take your place,” Sylvanas tried.

Cindel looked up, capturing Sylvanas’ gaze with hard eyes for a moment before she answered that with, “Perhaps not, but she might make it unnecessary.”

In all her plotting and daydreaming about having an army of Jaina's at her disposal, Sylvanas had not considered what that might mean for the ranger mages that accompanied them--those who were just skilled enough to earn the title of magistrix or magister, but not progressing much further beyond that. Her mother had been the one to create a place for them with the rangers so long ago, to give purpose to those mages who did not show enough promise to make ranks among their own. She had not thought about how they would feel, acting as a taxi service for far more powerful spellbows who could do all the same things as them, only infinitely better.

"Perhaps you hadn't considered that," Cindel responded to her silence.

"In some ways, I thought I had considered it overly much, but now I'm seeing that I hadn't nearly thought about it enough," Sylvanas admitted. She took a few steps forward, stopping Cindel as she stood in front of her. "I do not want to replace you. I do not want you to go away. I don't even want to give you an excuse or an easy out because I feel you need to retire. I don't. I want the same thing for both you and for Jaina. I want you to have a place to belong."

Cindel stared up at her from beneath her blue hood, gold-trimmed to signal her status as the group's mage, as if her travel robes didn't give that away enough. "It would be easier for me to accept those words, if I knew that's what I truly wanted," she said after a while.

"What is it that you want then? Why did you come back?" Sylvanas asked, daring to lay another hand on the other woman's shoulder again.

Cindel didn't shrug it away this time. "So that my daughter would be proud of me. So that, at least for a while, until she knows better, she would have something to look up to in me," she answered.

"That's a better reason than most," Sylvanas told her.

"What would you do if you had a child? If you had a little person whose entire world you were? Would you let her see her mother as a failure? As weak and unfit? Or would you keep trying to be something for her?" Cindel went on, fists balling and eyes hard as she looked up at Sylvanas.

"I would do everything I could to protect her," Sylvanas answered, squeezing Cindel's shoulder a bit for emphasis. "And that's exactly what you're doing now. You are here, fighting for her and for thousands of other daughters. It doesn't matter how you fight. It only matters that you are willing to."

Cindel let out a breath, that then turned into a laugh as she steadied herself against Sylvanas, gripping the arm that held her shoulder still. "I hate how right you always are," she said.

"I've been told it's infuriating," Sylvanas replied. "Do you believe me now?"

"I'm trying," Cindel told her.

"That's all I can ask for," Sylvanas said with another squeeze before she let go. "Come on now. I take it all that chatter ahead means the others have spotted the Spire. It's time for us to go endure your husband's master."

"I can hardly wait," Cindel rolled her eyes as she replied and followed Sylvanas down to the trail, toward where the waters of the lake were just becoming visible through the trees again.

---

Jaina only had a few moments to wonder at the identity of the foppish elven magister that came out to greet them, with the oversized feather in his hat waving in the lakeside breeze.

From behind her, Sylvanas called out to him with a voice dripping in forced enthusiasm, "It's been too long, Dar'khan."

"Has it really?" Dar'khan asked with a smirk and a flick of his ear that ruffled the feather in his hat again. A flick that Jaina now knew meant that he had about as much affection for Sylvanas as she had for him, and that they were both well aware of how little that was.

"No," Sylvanas laughed, and demonstrated that with the position of her own ears as she stepped ahead and back into the lead of their little group with her usual long, graceful strides. "But thank you for hosting us again anyway."

"My Spire has become a regular party now," Dar'khan scoffed.

"I'll say it has," another male voice added as his distinctly angular silhouette appeared in the doorway.

"Prince Kael'thas. What an unexpected pleasure," Sylvanas greeted him as he swaggered out onto the steps.

“Magister Drathir and I were just finishing up a meeting. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it,” he assured her. “Oh, go right on ahead then, don’t let us interrupt,” Sylvanas said, her voice still laden with undeniable ire. Jaina supposed it didn’t make sense to hide it if all parties knew of her discontent.

Curious then why this Magister Drathir would even invite them to spend the night at his Spire then?

A shadow crept in front of the doorway again, and Jaina was beginning to wonder if there were any other mages that Sylvanas couldn’t stand that she had yet to meet.

“Cindel!” another male voice cried out before even half of him came into view.

“Al’theas?” the magistrix in question asked as she stepped out from the back of the crowd of rangers.

The door swung open the rest of the way to reveal an elven man with long blonde hair and impeccable red and gold robes. A mage by the looks of him, and decently high ranking enough to afford such finery. And on his hip, a little girl--a toddler with the same golden hair, wearing a little red dress.

“Al’theas!” Cindel cried out again as she ran up to meet him.

They met halfway, just at the bottom of the stairs. All the sudden, Cindel, who was honestly as cheerful as a storm cloud on the best of days, was nothing but smiles and laughter as she ran into his waiting arm, and let him wrap her in a tight embrace with it, as he held the child up to her with the other. For some reason, it had never occurred to Jaina that any of her squadmates, much less catty Cindel, might be married, or have children. Yet, there they were--a wonderful, happy little family. She blamed it again, on their infernal agelessness. It was hard to think of someone as being matronly when they all had the bodies of twenty year olds, and good-looking twenty year olds at that.

Still, Cindel was the last person she expected to be lavishing her little girl with kisses and coaxing a few quiet little words from her--and in turn speaking her own to her. Jaina couldn’t hear them, but imagined that it would be the sort of thing that a little girl would like to hear, maybe that her dress was pretty, or that her mother had missed her smile.

It was all such a sudden change or perspective on this woman that Jaina almost felt a headrush from it. She had been so sure that Cindel was a miserable bitch in all aspects of her life, as she had not budged one bit on the nasty glares she kept sending Jaina’s way in these last two weeks of their walk. Even after the incident with the trolls, where the others had started warming up to her, Cindel had kept her distance, her coldness.

But now it was clear that she was just that person when Jaina was watching. Very clear, as she took her child from her husband and held her close, looking happy as anything.

“Now that I’ve appeased my very insistent apprentice with this little surprise,” Dar’khan sighed toward Sylvanas, still watching all this unfold from just beyond the doorway, “I should like to finish up that meeting. You have arrived earlier than I expected, so your accommodations are still being prepared. But I’ll have my servants bring some refreshments down to the parlor for your rangers while you wait. Do me a favor and ensure that Magister Daybringer isn’t distracted too long.”

“I am very curious as to what a great meeting of the minds this might be,” Sylvanas noted with more sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“Curious you shall remain, Ranger General, lest we bore you with talk of magical theories and research,” Kael’thas answered, perhaps just a little too quickly to be subtle.

But, let’s face it, with all the frantic ear movement between those three, nothing about this conversation was subtle. At least, if one had eyes.

“Fair enough,” Sylvanas said with a nod. “Come on then, rangers. Perhaps Cindel will introduce us to her family once we get inside.”

“Oh I am holding that baby, whether she tells me I can or not,” Illeryn threatened with a grin as she began to stalk up toward the little family.

Jaina was nearly too busy still being awed by the transformation in the squad’s mage. Just almost too absorbed, but she still caught the look that both Dar’khan and Kael’thas were giving her before they slipped back through the door and into the spire. She caught it enough that Kael’thas answered her eyes with a wave. But why were they looking at her?

Perhaps this Dar’khan Drathir didn’t take kindly to having to put up with a human guest in his home. But by the time she made her own way into the spire, he and Kael’thas were already rounding the spiral stairs and disappearing into the upper floors, so she wasn’t going to answer that question today.

Instead, she found herself a spot in a comfortable chair on the edge of the circle that had formed. Close enough not to be fully outside of it, but far away enough not to be in it. When the servants came around with glasses of wine, she took one and pretended to sip at it for a while, as she watched the other rangers pass around the little elven girl. It seemed like children were quite the novelty to them.

Now that Jaina thought about it, she hadn’t really seen that many children. Even in Silvermoon. In any human city, the streets would be filled with them. It would be difficult to go into a market town in Lordaeron, or dockside in Boralus, and not be just absolutely tripping over children. But there just weren’t a lot of them here.

Come to think of it, why would there be? Constantly producing a younger generation wasn’t necessary when the older one wasn’t due to die out for several thousand more years. If anything, children were probably a very conscious choice among the elves. More questions to ask. More things to discover. More pages of journals to fill with her ideas, only to be proven wrong by some offhand comment from one of her squadmates a day or two later. As much as it proved frustrating, Jaina was starting to love unraveling the little mundane mysteries of the elves. All their quirks and notions, so normal to them, but still so foreign to her.

But, she did think that it might be nice, to have children because you wanted to, because you were ready to welcome that love into your life, and ready to provide for them, and not because you were told that you must before you get too old.

Still, she didn’t think that she would be welcomed to meet this little girl, who she had learned from the excited babble of the others was called Eledrea. That was fine, really. She knew Cindel didn’t like her. She knew that she felt threatened by her. Jaina certainly wasn’t going to be able to change her mind on any of that. Not when the woman wouldn’t talk to her, or even look at her without furrowing her long brows, or flattening her ears like a cornered cat.

So she was very much surprised when little footsteps toddled her way, and were followed by the shuffling a blue robes. Cindel caught her daughter as she wobbled a bit, and kept steering her towards Jaina.

The others were distracted now, chatting and enjoying their wine and snacks. All except for Sylvanas, who gave Jaina a brief smile, then laid a finger to her lips as she turned and went to butt in on a conversation between Cindel’s husband and Selanay.

“This is Eledrea, my daughter,” Cindel said as they came to a stop in front of Jaina’s chair. “And I think you might be the first human she’s ever seen. She’s very curious about you.” “That’s all right,” Jaina said, giving the little girl a smile, then looking up at Cindel, who was oddly enough, smiling back down at both of them. “Hello Eledrea. Nice to meet you.”

The girl didn’t go to hide behind her mother at the greeting, but she didn’t answer it either. She just stared up at Jaina with her shining little eyes and giggled.

To her credit, Jaina slid her infernal hood back from her hair when she walked inside the Spire, another custom she noted that the elves didn’t seem to follow. So her differences were in plain sight. Her short, and unpointy differences.

“How old is she?” Jaina asked.

“Just about to turn four,” Cindel said. She cocked her head a little, then found a free chair near Jaina’s and slid it out for herself before taking a seat in front of her. “We grow up a little slower than you, so you probably thought she was younger.” “I’ve never been the best with children, so I would have taken your word for it,” Jaina answered with a chuckle at her own expense. “But I figured as much.” “She’s also much more talkative when she’s not in a room full of strangers, but aren’t we all?” Cindel offered.

Jaina nodded to that, unsure of what to make of her sudden attempt at casual conversation.

Luckily for both of them, little Eledrea had different ideas. She stumbled her way up to the tips of Jaina’s boots, before looking up at her and holding her arms up in a sign so universal that it would no doubt cross most cultures, not to mention entire species. Jaina had even seen little orcs do this with their parents in the internment camps. As little as she knew, or wanted to know, of children, Jaina knew that the little girl very much wanted her to pick her up.

Still, she shot a questioning look to Cindel first, not daring to fulfill this simple request. Not yet.

Cindel just gave her a nod, and another strangely warm smile again before warning, “It’s fine. She’s probably going to touch your ears.”

“I’m used to it,” Jaina said she steadied herself and picked the little girl up, setting her on her lap.

Eledrea let out a brief squeal of delight, then did exactly as her mother warned she would, and went to tug on one of Jaina’s rounded ears.

“Gentle,” Cindel reminded her. “You’re lucky that Jaina is tolerating you, you know.”

The toddler was surprisingly gentle in her exploration all the same, and it seemed as though she just wanted to test if Jaina’s ears were real. She let go after a moment, and was then just happy to stay smiling up at her.

“She’s a very happy little girl,” Jaina noted as she steadied the child, who barely even squirmed.

“Always has been, ever since she was a baby. Thank the sun for that. I was a wreck when I had her, so her little laugh was the only thing that kept me going for quite a while,” Cindel confessed, scooting her chair a little closer so she could straighten out her daughter’s dress.

“Difficult pregnancy?” Jaina asked. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever even seen a pregnant elf…”

Cindel shook her head. “No, just difficult for me to adjust to having to care so much for someone else. I love Al’theas. You will too, if he ever stops schmoozing over there and gets to introducing himself. But he can take care of himself. Loving someone that can’t take care of themselves at all, who needs you for everything? That was something I wasn’t ready for at the time.” “I’ve never thought of it like that,” Jaina said, even as she had to steady the girl again to keep her securely in her lap.

Eledrea giggled again at that.

“Exactly,” Cindel told her. “But I wouldn’t change anything for it. I thought I wouldn’t get to see her again for months now, but I’m so glad that Al’theas brought her here to visit. I needed a reminder of why I’m here.” “Minna,” Eledrea cooed, looking toward Cindel and holding her hands out. Jaina didn’t know the word. It took her a moment to realize that she was just trying to say “mother” in Thalassian, but not quite hitting the last syllable.

Jaina lifted the girl up and helped Cindel transfer her from one lap to another. “She’s certainly worth fighting for,” Jaina noted once Eledrea was settled in her mother’s arms again.

“So you do understand,” Cindel said, still looking at her daughter as she spoke, and giving her a little kiss on the forehead before she looked toward Jaina again.

Jaina, meanwhile, was not sure what it was that she was supposed to understand.

“I want my daughter to be better than me one day,” Cindel told her, as she stood the little girl up and helped her balance on her knees. “I want her to be the best apprentice in her class. I want her to get high rankings in the magistrate. I want her to study and research and enchant everything she comes across. I don’t want her to be just a ranger mage, doing what she can with what little power she has. That’s the reason we have children, isn’t it? To give them everything we couldn’t have.”

“I mean, everyone wants their children to have the world,” Jaina told her. “But what did you mean, about ranger mages?” Cindel looked back toward Jaina, her brows suddenly shooting up. “You don’t know, do you? After all this…”

“Don’t know what?” Jaina asked again.

“Ranger mages are the lowest of the low. We’re the ones that can’t find a placement after our apprenticeship, so the rangers take us. We can’t really put up a fight, but we can make their chores go away. We can portal in their supplies and such, but nothing else very useful,” Cindel explained, and settled Eledrea against her again, hugging the girl close. “My husband at least is working under Magister Drathir, and will soon enough come into his own. Me, well, this is probably the best I’ll ever do.” “You shouldn’t say that,” Jaina told her. “Maybe magic is different for you than it is for me. Maybe they teach it differently here, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s that your potential, your power, is only a thing that you can limit. No one else can tell you where it ends and where it begins. You are the only one that knows where those limits are, and I still have no idea where mine are yet. I honestly have no idea how old any of you are, but I’m going to be that even the oldest magister among you still hasn’t found his yet.” “That’s...kind of you to say, Jaina, but really, I’m not--” “You’re not the lowest of the low, Cindel,” Jaina said flatly, shaking her head. “Don’t let anyone tell you that. Don’t let yourself believe that. You’re just still learning. Just like your daughter. You’re still learning.”

“Even when my teachers have told me there’s nothing more worth teaching me?” Cindel asked, looking a little less incredulous now.

“Get new teachers. Seriously. If you want to do something, just try. Keep trying. Fail, then try again. I once wanted to learn illusion magic. I tried to make an apple look like an orange for two days. Couldn’t do it. Then all the sudden, I could give myself red hair for the day with no problem. I made my master’s pen into a snake way too many times that day and got sent to go look up reference books for the rest of the afternoon as punishment,” Jaina divulged, laughing at the memory of old Antonidas smacking his own pen off the desk for the third time in a row before sending her away. Ah yes, the good times, before she went and ruined it all with that same damned curiosity.

“I’ve always wanted to try illusions,” Cindel noted with a new little smile. Her ears, which had been drooping back before, were now just slightly perked forward in interest.

“I mean, I can help, if you would let me,” Jaina offered, still unsure of how the other mage might take her offer.

Cindel looked at her child again. Eledrea was snuggling back into her, her little eyelids drooping as sleep threatened. She had gotten so comfortable so quickly, as if knowing she belonged there, that she was safe in those arms.

She looked back at Jaina with her answer, “If you wouldn’t mind.” Jaina nodded. “Not at all. I haven’t had anyone to talk to about magic with for a while now. Well, besides your prince, but he’s rather insufferable. Don’t repeat that, please.” “I wouldn’t. And I agree.”

A laugh came over Jaina so quickly that she snorted it out. “Why haven’t we talked before again?”

“Does it really matter?” Cindel asked her beneath a giggle of her own.

“No, it really doesn’t,” Jaina assured her.

Two glasses of wine, one brief introduction to Al’theas, who was indeed a delight, three courses of an overly fancy dinner, and a short break for Cindel to tuck Eledrea in for the night later, they were still talking--still telling stories of their very different apprenticeships, and sharing secrets of their craft.

And Jaina noted three particular sets of glowing eyes on her and Cindel as they talked, though honestly everyone had looked on in a mixture of confusion and astonishment at some point in the night. But Sylvanas wouldn’t stop grinning at her. And Kael’thas and Dar’khan kept glancing her way, only to smile when she caught either of them.

And to keep smiling as they talked among themselves again.

#Sylvanas Windrunner #Jaina Proudmoore #sylvaina #fanfic #in good company #bonus points if you now understand who cindel is #the slowest burn ever #it might kill me

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