Chapter Text
“Would you please stop your incessant pacing, sister?”
Vereesa's voice snapped through the crisp air of the sterile hallway, her eyes weary as she watched Sylvanas stop dead in her tracks; finally a moment to rest.
Fingers clenched at her sides, Sylvanas snapped her head to meet her sister's gaze, wanting to construe anger and agitation but only succeeding in appearing like a petulant, tired child who was very overdue for their afternoon nap.
“You sound like those damned nurses, Vereesa,” Sylvanas retorted, her voice losing some of the edge she had intended. Sighing softly, she brought her hands to her temples and began to rub them absent mindedly, brow furrowing before she finally allowed herself to be seated beside her sibling.
A cocked brow, Vereesa rested her elbows on her knees while regarding Sylvanas.
“If you would have just calmed yourself and sat still like any other perfectly supportive wife or husband, I'm sure the nurses would gladly have allowed you to stay in the room,” the corner of Vereesa's lip twitched into a smirk. “Jaina does well to put up with you under most circumstances but I feel even she was glad to have you removed.”
A loud scoff left Sylvanas' lips, her eyes narrowing at the silver haired woman beside her. The very cheek of her!
“As Ranger-General I am entitled to every right to be by my wife's side and assist in the delivery-”
“-you literally tried to take the tools from the doctor's hands and called him a 'careless buffoon',” Vereesa stated in a deadpan voice, meeting her sister's gaze and regarding her for a few moments.
Clearing her voice, Sylvanas averted her eyes and tucked a few strands of silken hair behind one of her long, pointed ears. Said ears pushed back along her scalp, almost horizontal as they lay there in indignation and perhaps- just a little bit- of embarrassment.
“I was concerned he would hurt her. Down-” motioning with her hand, Sylvanas gave a vague wave to her nether regions.
Eyes widening momentarily, Vereesa had to contain a snort of laughter that was threatening to escape from her lips. She settled instead for a shake of her head, resting her face in the palm of one of her hands.
“Dearest sister, I can guarantee you have less to worry about the doctor hurting her, when something the size of a baby half-elf, half-human is coming out of an opening the diameter of several fingers.”
A blush crept its way onto Sylvanas' cheeks, her high cheekbones painted a rosy red as she realised the absurdity of her own behaviour. It's not like it was her fault, after all, she was a control freak and not being in control of a situation was maddening to her and sent her into a state of panic and unrest.
By the Goddess, she had never even seen herself as the motherly- fatherly?- type. At least, not until Jaina. In the beginning it had been different of course. An arranged marriage, one of political and leadership reasonings, to bind together the two great nations of land and sea- Quel'thalas and Kul'Tiras. There had been many options of course, to take the beautiful Lord Admiral's hand in marriage, and so Sylvanas was surprised when she received word that she would be taking that honour.
The first couple of years had been tentative. It was a slow, careful dance between the two. Sylvanas could be insufferable, wary and distant. Jaina was confusing, burning brightly hot one minute and cold the next. Both of them could act like toddlers at times, and it took many attempts at getting to know one another before they fell into regular routines together. Small touches and warm smiles became lingering gazes, wandering eyes and playful banter. Cautious intimacy became comforting embraces and warmth throughout cold nights, until it seemed all the puzzle pieces fell into place.
Almost overnight the two became inseparable, a shining beacon of love and hope and all that everyone had wished would become of a union between the two races. Now, several more years later and some good old fashioned sorcery, Jaina had been gifted with a magical pregnancy that belonged biologically to both her and Sylvanas.
While children, or at least heirs, had been stipulated in their marriage contract at some point in the 238 pages, Sylvanas had never had any intention to force her wife into parenthood unwillingly. It had come by choice of one too many nights spent babysitting Vereesa's twins, or visiting by the local orphanage to hand out boxes of toys, blankets, and clothing. Sylvanas had seen the warmth in Jaina's smile as she sat down to read a bedtime story to the sleepy twins, or kneeling down to receive a thank you hug from a happy orphan; somewhere along the line the Elf had found herself feeling that same warmth.
A click sounded from their right and the both of them shot up from where they were sitting to stand before the Doctor who was coming out of Jaina's room. His long flowing golden hair was tied back tightly to avoid any stray strands falling into his face. A warm smile graced his thin lips, his pale scrubs covered in a few smears of blood and clear fluids.
“Well? How is she?” her voice came out more clipped than she had intended, her patience wearing to a very thin line. Trying to see past the doctor in the room, Sylvanas could just make out the shape of Jaina in her bed.
Clasping his hands behind his back, the doctor followed her gaze.
“She is doing well, there were no complications. She is of course very tired after her labour, and a little tender.”
Sylvanas didn't notice the small change of tone at the end of his sentence, furrowing her brow just a little at his implication. Of course her wife would be tender, did he take her for a brainless fool?
“And our child?”
He stood up straighter, bowing his head down in a polite manner.
“Eight pound five, a perfectly healthy baby girl.”
Sylvanas' eyebrows rose on her head, a swirling of warmth building in her chest and a prickling starting to press at her eyes. Jaina and her had left the baby's gender up to guessing and old wives tales, but secretly Sylvanas had been hoping for a little girl.
Motioning with her hand, she averted her gaze from the man and took a step towards the doorway, Vereesa close behind her.
“May I?”
The doctor nodded briskly, moving out of the way so that they might pass.
“Of course, do take as long as you need.”
Without another word, Sylvanas moved into the room with Vereesa closely in tow. Her footsteps were soft, padding over to the side of the bed where her wife lay, arms wrapped around a bundle in her arms as it lay against her chest. After a moment, Jaina tilted her head up to meet the warm elven gaze above her.
“My love,” Sylvanas regarded her, just above a whisper, leaning down to press their lips together in a gentle kiss. Pulling away, she threaded fingers through Jaina's blonde locks of hair. They were damp in places from sweat, clinging to her flushed cheeks and falling around her face in a mess. Yet to her the woman was still a shining light of beauty. “Are you feeling well?”
A single brow lifted above Jaina's right eye, a tired smile working its way onto her pink lips.
“I'm fine, I feel like I should be asking you the same thing. You've been acting a nervous wreck ever since we arrived here.”
A light roll of her eyes was the taller elven woman's only reply, but she allowed a smile despite herself.
“A concerned wife and father-to-be, that's all.”
Reaching out with her slender fingers, Sylvanas began to gently pull back the soft white blankets until they parted to reveal her newborn daughter's face; the warmth that blossomed inside of her at that very moment almost had her falling to her knees.
“She has your eyes.”
It was true, the child had Sylvanas' glowing, steely eyes. But there was something beneath them, a tinge of warmth that as she looked into them reminded her of the plucky human she was lucky enough to call her wife. Atop the child's head sat a little mop of blonde locks- the same tone blonde as Jaina's. Little pointy elf ears were pressed against the side of her head, her skin a softly shimmering tone of bronze.
Sylvanas wasn't aware of the wet streaks of tears rolling down her cheeks until she felt a warm hand reach up, brushing away the offending tears and cupping her cheek with a palm. She pressed her face into it, cherishing the touch of her wife. Reaching out, she ran the back of her index finger along her daughter's soft, chubby cheek, letting out a small hum of approval when the little child grabbed her finger with her chubby little hand and gripped it tightly.
“Such a strong grip, my littlest one. You shall make a fine archer someday.”
A snort sounded from behind her- Vereesa- and a chagrined sigh fell from Jaina's lips.
“Really darling, I will not have our daughter running about shooting arrows everywhere.” Another snort, this one earning Vereesa a withering glare as Sylvanas snapped her head back in warning.
“Don't speak such nonsense,” Sylvanas' voice was tight and posh, the epitome of her entire race in a single sentence. She turned back to Jaina, her stern features slowly melting into a mischievous grin and a squeeze from her hand. “She must of course learn to shoot from a standstill before she can perform tactical manoeuvres and movement while shooting.”
Groaning softly, Jaina let her head fall back onto her pillow, her eyes slipping shut and revealing the true tiredness she had been trying to mask.
“Gods Sylvanas, how did I ever let you talk me into parenthood?”
Taking a moment to pull a chair up beside the bed, Sylvanas allowed herself to sink into it. Her hands remained in the bed however, one now linked delicately with Jaina's fingers while the other cupped the back of their daughter's head.
“As I remember, it was about three bottles of very expensive wine, some musty old seer's spell-book and the blessings of your mother,” a soft smile crept onto her features, her hand giving Jaina's a squeeze. “And from memory, it was much of you who did the convincing, not myself.”
A second later, Jaina's lips curved into a matching smile. A small hum of approval left her throat and her head shifted to the side to face Sylvanas, her eyes remaining closed however.
“It was good wine, too.”
The room was quiet save for the soft cooing of the baby in Jaina's arms, Vereesa's feet shuffling against the tile before moving closer beside the bed.
“So, have you decided what you're going to name such a precious one?”
Truth be told, they had only really discussed names in passing, but hadn't given much thought to it. Sylvanas had assumed Jaina would choose some silly Human sounding name and they would argue over it before ultimately coming to some sort of truce on a Thalassian name. What she hadn't expected however was for her wife to open her mouth right there and utter an Elvish name without skipping a beat.
“Elaria.”
Both Sylvanas and Vereesa looked down at her, a look of contentment on the blonde woman's face as she opened her dark rimmed eyes and met those of her wife's with a look of absolute love and adoration.
“Elaria Windrunner.”
Everyday this woman found ways to surprise Sylvanas- 99% of the time being good surprises- and this was one of those good days.
Leaning over, Sylvanas pressed a tender kiss to Jaina's forehead before bending down a little further to press an accompanying kiss to their daughter- Elaria's- forehead.
“Elaria Windrunner, daughter to the Ranger-General and the Lord Admiral.” A smile played at Sylvanas' lips, a burning sensation of pride and adoration pulsing behind her chest. She felt the strong hand of her sister steady upon her shoulder, the corner of her lip twitching up even more as she heard the other woman sniffle in the subtlest way possible.
Sylvanas had no doubt their daughter would go on to do many great things. Whether she became the greatest archer the lands had ever seen, or a magnificent mage weaving spells to turn the tides, she just knew that this small life peering up at her with inquisitive eyes would make her and Jaina so incredibly proud some day. But she also knew that even if she didn't go on to make a great name for herself, Sylvanas and Jaina would always be there for her. To love her, to dote on her, and to encourage her regardless of the path life took her on.
And perhaps, just maybe, Jaina might even agree to the joy of bringing even more little perfect Human-High Elf hybrids into the world with her.
As though hearing Sylvanas' thoughts, the very wife in question began to softly snore.
Well, perhaps not just yet.