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Valeera had expected hell to be hot. Wasn’t that what people always said: that there was fire and brimstone and such? She’d always associated demon hunters and their burning hot flesh with hell, and demons themselves with hell, and so it was an odd feeling to be, well, cold. If she’d known it would be this cold, she would have packed something a little warmer to wear than her usual fare. As it was, her thighs and arms were covered in goose bumps. She ignored it. It wasn’t that bad; Northrend had been worse. The wind bothered her more, it howled and whipped at her hair, throwing it about her face and making it difficult for her usually sharp ears to follow the sound of fighting Anduin had told her she’d hear.
Despite the discomfort and irritations, she eventually found Sylvanas in the centre of a ring of spirits attacking her, pulling at her hair, scratching at her skin with their nails, wailing and gnashing and howling at her. Sylvanas made short work of them by cutting them off her neatly with an arrow to their chests and thrusting them away with a vambrace. There was no pleasure in her movement, it was a sombre chore and the spirits attacking her were not her enemies. One by one, they relented, softening and fading, and in their retreat their forms solidified: night elves. A druid. A mother and a child, who embraced as they recognised each other. An older woman, who touched her own face and then looked down at her hands.
Sylvanas’s bow fell as she fought off the last of them. One by one they looked upwards, one by one absorbed in a halo of light. Sylvanas watched them until they were all at peace, and then turned towards Valeera.
Valeera drew a sharp breath but stood in place, her cape and hair billowing about her. Of course Sylvanas had noticed she was being watched; she’d been a ranger once, after all.
“Valeera,” Sylvanas observed, realising it herself. “Anduin told me of you.” She considered Valeera at length, not taking a single step toward her. “A traitor to the Horde, it seems,” she said eventually.
Valeera was unmoved. “Is it really me who was the traitor to the Horde?”
A faint smile. “I suppose not.” She hung her bow on her back. “I gather our little lion sent you?”
Valeera nodded once.
Her smile deepened. “He feels guilty he left me. He shouldn’t.”
“He shouldn’t,” Valeera agreed, surprised at the venom in her voice. “He shouldn’t care about what happens to you, either, after what you did to him. Nevertheless, he does.” She swept her gloved hands out to present herself. “So here I am.”
Sylvanas appeared to take note of Valeera’s sharp tone, a slender eyebrow rising. “And now you know I am well, you have done your duty to him and can tell him as much.” Sylvanas gestured behind Valeera, towards the portal she had stepped through in the distance.
For a moment, they just stood. Valeera considered leaving; it would be very easy to turn on her heel and return to the warm sunshine. Anduin would probably have been content to know Valeera had spoken to Sylvanas and feel comforted by that. But… something pulled at Valeera, anchoring her here.
The Sylvanas in front of her was in many ways a familiar sight: poker face, magnetic charisma, and that heavy, unblinking stare. It was intimidating even though Valeera suspected that without the various powers Sylvanas had once wielded and Valeera’s relative inexperience notwithstanding, they might be quite evenly matched.
What was unfamiliar was how unassuming she was now. How at peace she seemed. Valeera couldn’t help feeling rather curious about it. “I think Anduin would prefer if I spent some time aiding you.”
“Would he, now?” The smile in Sylvanas’s voice suggested she doubted that. Thankfully, she didn’t say as much. “I gather by those blades you can fight.” Valeera nodded. “Join me, then.”
She led Valeera over the rise. Spirits collected around them, pulling at their clothes, shrieking in their ears, and clawing at them like wild animals trying to tear them to pieces. The fights were no challenge themselves—they were swiftly defeated and easily guided to ascend. The challenge was the relentlessness of their advance, the sheer numbers of spirits that fell upon them the moment they advanced in any direction. It was exhausting.
Valeera found she had limited energy for them; a byproduct of being able to plan her ever fight from the shadows. It was humbling.
“Shouldn’t a young thing like you have more stamina?” Sylvanas observed, neatly shooting a ghostly arm from Valeera’s wrist as Valeera missed her strike.
Valeera grimaced, straightening. “Perhaps this excursion will prove valuable for me, as well,” she said, then added, “although I am comparing myself to someone who doesn’t need to catch their breath.”
Sylvanas shot a mild grin at her with the same ease as she shot the head off another spirit. “Being dead does have its advantages.”
Valeera surprised herself by laughing once at that—and surprised herself by rather suddenly discovering she found Sylvanas to be rather pleasant company. Easy company, too. Sylvanas didn’t want or expect anything from her, it seemed. She just accepted her presence.
When eventually Valeera could fight no more, Sylvanas led her to an alcove that could be completely lit by a fire in the centre of it; no shadows for spirits to grow out of or spaces for enemies to sneak in behind them. Valeera found the warmth of the fire most welcome and sat before it, rolling off her gloves and her boots to inspect her skin inch-by-inch for wounds that needed cleaning.
Sylvanas stood by the mouth of the cave with her bow ready should anyone—or anything—choose to attack them. She didn’t look at all like someone who’d just spent hours, or days, or even months fighting. She just looked poised and stoic. She cut quite an impressive figure, Valeera thought, admiring her.
Sylvanas noticed. “Not what you expected?”
“Not what I remembered.”
Sylvanas regarded her for a few moments. She seemed pleased with that assessment. “Thank you.”
It was so strange hearing someone speak like this, Valeera reflected. It was also so very odd to Valeera that the fire in her belly she’d once had at the thought of facing off with Sylvanas was completely gone. “When I first learnt of what you did to Anduin, I vowed to destroy you myself.”
Sylvanas guessed what happened there. “He made you promise you wouldn’t harm me.”
Valeera laughed. “How do you know him so well?”
“There’s a lot of time to talk down here, and the young king does so love sharing things.”
Valeera had to laugh out loud at that; she was so very right! Anduin had made her uncomfortable many times with how candid he was about his feelings, because there was always the gentle expectation she would reciprocate and share her own thoughts and fears and Valeera was not really one for that sort of chatter. She would have been perfectly happy just to be in his presence and know he was well; perhaps that’s why Sylvanas’s company was so welcome.
Welcome, and soothing. Her wounds patched and cleaned, Valeera felt the slow creep of exhaustion that would normally have her retiring to her bed. Oddly enough, sleeping here didn’t seem at all out of the question even though she could probably easily hike back to the portal.
She’d been silently considering the stone floor when Sylvanas’ voice cut through the silence. “Sleep, if you must.”
“You don’t need to sleep, do you?” Valeera found herself realising aloud.
Sylvanas shook her head in a small movement. “Or rest, unless I wish it for peace of mind. I will watch over you while you sleep, though, if you wish.”
Valeera paused at that only because she was surprised the idea had some appeal.
Sylvanas mistook it for hesitation. “Or return to your charge. It’s all the same to me.” She turned her attention back out of the mouth of the cave. Her voice hadn’t caught, and her tone hadn’t changed. There hadn’t been anything about her face or body or intonation that suggested that what she’d said wasn’t the truth. Yet, she was facing away from Valeera for the first time since Valeera had arrived, eyes veiled.
It caused an uncomfortable weight in Valeera’s stomach. Her decision was made. “I will sleep here, if it really is all the same to you.”
Sylvanas’s ears pricked towards her, and her shoulders loosened slightly. It was such a small movement, but Valeera’s sharp eyes didn’t miss it. “Very well.”
Perhaps Anduin was right about her, Valeera reflected as she found a comfortable position to sleep in near the fire.
Despite the fact she was technically in hell, and despite the fact she so rarely slept in anyone else's presence, Valeera found herself drifting off to the nearby sound of howling wind and wailing souls in the presence of Sylvanas Windrunner.