Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jaina inhaled a deep breath of the chill night air and released it slowly, watching it fog out of her mouth like smoke. The night sky above Dalaran was clear as glass, a dark and deep backdrop against which the stars became brilliant pinpricks. She loved the floating city in the winter, especially now when they’d lifted it to higher elevations for the Games. The aurora flickered brightly near the horizon, a riot of color against the inky sky.

Exhaling again, she hefted her hockey bag higher on her shoulder and pushed open the door to the ice. Realistically, Jaina knew she should be in her dorm getting some rest. Liadrin had reminded her of that when she saw her leaving, gear in tow. But tomorrow was the opening ceremony, and she was nervous as hell.

Her first Olympics.

It didn’t matter that she’d been training with the team for the last month, or that they’d been in Dalaran’s Olympic village for most of a week now. The opening ceremonies made it all real in a way it wasn’t yet. And she really needed to burn off some of that nervous energy, or she’d never get to sleep. So she’d made a call, and found out that yes, the practice ice was available for another hour, until the start of curfew. She’d rolled her eyes at the terse reminder about athlete curfew, but acknowledged it.

Except. She hadn’t remembered to ask if the ice was empty, only that it was available.

Which, it clearly wasn’t. Empty, that is.

Worse, the lone occupant was ugh, a figure skater.

Jaina sighed, watching the woman—elf, she realized—float across the ice. Dammit. Oh well. She’d been promised ice time, and she wasn’t going to let some (admittedly talented, even she could acknowledge that) figure skater get in her way. Quickly sliding into the first locker room, she geared up and laced up, grabbing her stick and the bucket of pucks set near the players’ entrance before she stepped onto the ice.

The elf’s ears pinned back as soon as she saw her. Jaina’s eyes narrowed, watching her approach. The elf gave her an annoyed once over as she slid to a graceful stop. Jaina couldn’t tell if the near-contempt was because she’d been disturbed, or because she was a hockey player, or both. She mentally shrugged, realizing she didn’t really care.

“Before you try and throw me out, I was told the ice was available for me to practice.”

One ear twitched, and eyes narrowed a fraction. But more than half Jaina’s teammates were elves, and she could read the nonverbal cues clearly. She tensed, ready for the coming argument, or bitching out, or whatever this woman’s deal was going to be.

Instead, the skater huffed softly. “Fine. But you had better control your pucks, or I will have words with the players’ commission.”

Jaina rolled her eyes. She wasn’t a talentless grunt, unlike some players she knew. “The only place I’ll be putting my pucks is that net behind me. I’ll stick to this zone, even, if it makes you happy. You can have the rest of the sheet.” The words came out with more venom than she wanted, and Jaina forced herself to take a breath. Figure skaters weren’t all bad, she reminded herself. Vereesa’s sister was one, she knew. Just because you’ve got baggage, doesn’t mean you have the right to take it out on anyone else, she reminded herself. Her mother wasn’t here. “Sorry. I just. Need some ice time.”

The elf twitched her ear again, but her grey-blue eyes softened a little. “First Games?”

Jaina tapped her stick a quick double-tap on the ice, annoyance flaring again, tinged with embarrassment.

At least she hadn’t worn her official jersey. Just her old Boralus Bruisers practice jersey. The dark green one she loved, from before they’d shifted their colors.

“Yeah.”

The elf watched her for another moment before waving her hand. “By all means, then. I’ll stay on my end and avoid anything that needs a full length build up.”

Jaina nodded curtly. Gratitude bubbled up in her, though she kept that locked down. The last thing she needed was to give the lithe, pretty elf any ammunition. She could see in the cant of her ears and the corners of her mouth and the slight rise in one eyebrow that any weakness would absolutely be capitalized on.

And oh tides fuck she’d realized the woman was pretty. With her startling grey eyes and silver-blonde hair half tied up in a lazy bun, and the all black ensemble she wore. And the fucking crop top. A cropped hoodie that was the only splash of color, that almost matched her own jersey. And her ear piercings. Plural. She held herself with a natural poise, like the ice was her home, and Jaina wondered for a second just who she was.

Before she could make a fool of herself by opening her mouth (she knew herself well enough to know she absolutely would), Jaina spun, dropping a few pucks to the ice. The figure skater behind her snorted softly.

“Nice number.”

Jaina, cheeks aflame, glanced over her shoulder. “Thanks. My mother hates it.”

The elf laughed, and Jaina took it for the win it was. She said nothing else, just separated a puck and started control drills she could do in her sleep. She quickly lost herself in the pattern of puck drills, speed drills, shooting drills. The figure skater, true to her word, stayed on the other end, and the sound of skates on the ice became the best kind of white noise, soothing the nervous panic Jaina had felt all day.

All too soon, the PA crackled to life, announcing that the ice sheet was closing and their curfew was near.

Jaina quickly collected her pucks and skated back to the player entrance. She gave a silent nod to the elf, who’d gone the other direction to the players’ bench and was already unlacing her skates. The figure skater inclined her head, ears forward.

No words, which was how Jaina preferred it. They’d had a good skate. No need to ruin it by speaking.

It wasn’t like they were likely to encounter each other again.

Jaina definitely didn’t think about her the entire way back to her dorm.

Vereesa glanced up from her book as Jaina slid back into their shared room. “You’re cutting it close.”

Jaina dropped her gear bag, unceremoniously shoving it to the side, and scowled. “I know. Sorry. Didn’t even get to shower.”

“Well, I was going to give you a hug because you look like you need one, but not until after you shower. Was it not a good skate?”

Toeing off her shoes, Jaina shrugged. “It was fine, once I got into it. There was a figure skater there.”

Vereesa’s ears perked. “Oh? Was she a total bitch? Do we need to hunt her down and break her kneecaps?”

That got a laugh, and a smile. “No, please don’t. She was fine. I just. I wanted to be alone, and she was a little bit of a bitch, but we made it work.”

Vereesa gave her a long look, narrowing her eyes. “She was fine, huh?”

Jaina shrugged and looked away, shrugging off her hoodie. “Yes, Ree, she was fine.”

“Oh. Oh.” Vereesa burst out laughing. “She was pretty, wasn’t she? What did she say?” Jaina mumbled something and beelined for the bathroom. “What was that?”

Sighing, Jaina slumped, the memory of silver-blonde hair, grey eyes, and a lithe, strong form stuck firmly in her mind. “I said, she liked my number.”

Vereesa’s cackles followed her all the way through the slammed door.

“Gentlebeings of Azeroth, good evening and welcome to the Opening Ceremony of the 83^rd Winter Olympic Games! Once again, I’ll be your host, Lor’themar Theron (as if you lot didn’t know), and I’m joined this year by my fabulous(ly sparlkling) cohost, Kinndy Sparkshine!”

“Thank you, Lor. We come to you this year from the floating city of Dalaran, home to some of the greatest mages in Azeroth. This is the fifth time Dalaran has hosted, and what Games this promises to be!”

“Indeed, my small shiny friend, indeed. Old rivalries and new are a hallmark of these Games, and I can’t wait to see what’s in store for us this year.”

Sylvanas quirked her mouth at Lor’themar’s antics as she waited with the teams from Quel’Thalas for their turn in the parade. It was a silly tradition that they go alphabetically, one that had always annoyed her for the wait. Most of the pomp and ceremony around the Games was fairly ridiculous, but people loved it, and at least Lor’s commentary kept it amusing. She let his voice hang in the background as she scanned the gathered delegates.

The hockey player she’d run into last night had to be there somewhere.

She wasn’t even sure why she was looking, if she was honest. Belore knew she’d had her fair share of awful interactions with hockey players, despite her own family’s ties to the sport. But whoever the human was, she’d intrigued Sylvanas. She’d watched the woman in the number 69 jersey lose herself in drills she’d seen her own siblings run a million times. Whoever she was, she was good, which had been enough to keep Sylvanas watching out of the corner of her eye. But (from what she’d been able to see from under the helmet and pads) she was also attractive enough to catch her interest. Tall, for a human, and broad. Judging by the Boralus practice jersey she wore, likely part Drust.

And those eyes. Such a sharp blue, especially when Sylvanas had initially confronted her.

“Azeroth to Sylvanas, come in Sylvanas…”

Sylvanas dodged instinctively as Lirath’s elbow jabbed out towards her. “I’m right here, Little Spark.”

Her younger brother leaned dramatically against her, throwing an arm across her shoulders despite the height she had on him. “Your body may be here, but that mind of yours was miles away. You’re not regretting your comeback, are you?”

“Hardly.”

“Good, because you deserve to be here.” Lirath sniffed, long eyebrows pulling together. “I can’t wait to watch you beat all their pants off. But if you’re not contemplating the demise of your competition, what has you so lost in thought?”

Sylvanas hummed to herself. Her brother would likely tease her, but he might also know who the mysterious hockey player was. “I had my practice skate last night interrupted by a hockey player.”

He stiffened against her. “Do I need to—”

“Relax, Lir. She was perfectly respectful. But I have no idea who she is.”

“Oh?” Lirath relaxed, and she didn’t need to look over to know what expression he wore. “What did she look like?”

“Lir…”

“What? I’m assuming you want to find her. If I don’t know her, Little Moon might.”

Sylvanas sighed. “Tall. Broad. Human, possibly drust. She wore a Boralus Bruisers practice jersey, but it was old and could mean nothing. I don’t see her in the Kul Tiran delegation, anyway. Blonde, I think, but she had a helmet on.”

“So, not a lot to go on.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Lirath barked out a laugh. “She doesn’t sound familiar, but Reesa might know her. We can ask later.” He stopped leaning on her and stood up, nodding towards the entrance to the main arena. “Looks like we’re almost up.”

Ahead of them, the Pandaren teams had lined up and were heading in. Sylvanas breathed deeply and slowly, straightening her spine. She knew, after everything that had happened in the last Games, that there were a lot of people unhappy she was here.

She didn’t care. She’d earned her place many times over. If they wanted to hate her, that was on them.

Still, she was grateful as the other quel’dorei grouped around and behind her, teammates and friends silently offering support. They’d made it plain that Sylvanas had their support, made the decision as a group to state it deliberately and publicly.

It meant a lot. So much, that she’d struggled not to cry when they told her.

She wouldn’t cry now. Not for the jackals to see. Now, she put on her mask of indifference. Schooled her breathing, even as Areiel, the captain of their hockey team, handed her the flag.

She twitched her ears forward, hefted high the banner of Quel’Thelas, and stepped forward.

The amount of nervous energy burning through Jaina made it impossible to be still. She bounced on her toes and shifted from foot to foot as the other delegations paraded through the arena. She’d watched the broadcast before, but it was something else entirely to be here as the tauren delegation from Mulgore tromped past, Nazjatar’s naga behind them.

Next to her, Vereesa hissed. “I swear to Belore, Jaina…”

“Sorry? I can’t help it.”

Vereesa snorted a laugh. “I know. At least you’re not leaking mana like you used to when you got overstimulated.”

Jaina whined, rolling her head to the side to stare at her best friend. “It’s just so exciting!” She reached over and bodily lifted the smaller elf, who squealed loudly in response. “How could I not be affected?”

“Fucking—Jaina! Put me down!”

Around them, their team laughed at Vereesa’s protests while Jaina hugged her tightly.

A hand reached out to ruffle Jaina’s hair. “Alright, alternate captain, put our poor wingwoman down before she passes out from embarrassment.”

Liadrin’s voice was colored with amusement. Jaina set her best friend down, laughing as Vereesa made a show of putting as many of their teammates between her and Jaina as she could. She shook her head and turned to look at their team captain. Liadrin radiated a calm borne of experience. Jaina soaked it in, trying to take her cue from the veteran.

“You doing alright there, Proudmoore?”

Jaina laughed nervously. “It’s… it’s a lot.” She felt the pressure of Liadrin’s hand on her shoulder, and breathed in slowly.

“You’ll be fine, Jaina. You’ve more than earned your spot here.”

Jaina nodded, focusing on managing her breathing. Around them, the pitch of the crowd rose as Lor’themar announced Quel’Thalas. She peered over the crowd, watching the quel’dorei in their soft teal and gold. Her eyes settled on the flagbearer, and Jaina’s world tunneled.

Her.

Chapter Text

“Vereesa?”

Jaina pushed back into the locker room, looking over it for any sign of the elf. She didn’t see her, didn’t see anyone. The benches were empty of all but equipment bags and miscellanea, and Jaina ran a hand over her freshly-trimmed sidecut before turning towards the door.

A noise from the toilet stalls in the back stopped her.

“Ree?”

She hurried over, the rubber flooring beneath her skates muffling her steps, only to find her best friend head down over a toilet bowl. Jaina hurried over to her, grabbing and wetting a towel at the sink on the way.

“Tides, Reesa, are you sick? Why didn’t you say something?”

Vereesa grunted, spitting into the bowl and gladly taking the proffered towel. “Not sick, I’ll be fine in a minute.”

Jaina looked at her friend, brows furrowing. Already the color was coming back to Vereesa’s narrow face. She hadn’t had anything to drink the night before—all of them had been careful, knowing they had their first preliminary game today. But Vereesa had stuck entirely to water. In fact, she’d had nothing except water for weeks now, Jaina realized.

And she’d never been a nervous puker.

“Oh, Titans. Vereesa, are you—”

“Pregnant?” She let out a nervous laugh and motioned for Jaina to help her to her feet. “I’m starting to think so.”

Jaina twisted the top off a bottle of water and handed it over. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I don’t actually know! Or, well, I didn’t, but I’m pretty sure now.” The elf rinsed and spit, then leaned against the sink, bottle still in one hand. “Rhonin and I… we haven’t actively been trying, but we agreed to just… let it happen if it happened. And it didn’t seem to be happening. And we’ve been so busy, getting ready, but I’ve been feeling off, so I just thought I’d err on the side of caution until I could get checked out.”

“Vereesa.” Jaina pinched the bridge of her nose. “Tides dammit. This is a full contact sport. Even if the padding is fantastic, you could still get hurt if you’re hit right. You know that. If you’re pregnant, you absolutely shouldn’t be taking that risk. You should’ve at least picked up a test and talked to us, if you knew it was a possibility!”

“I know, okay? I just… It’s our first game, and your first Games. I wanted to be there on the ice with you. I still want it.”

“Ree—”

“Jaina. It’s my choice. I want to play. We can talk more about it after.”

Jaina narrowed her eyes. “We’re playing Lordaeron. They’ve got some real assholes on the team. If it turns into too rough a game, I will make you sit.”

“…fine.”

“Today’s game marks the opening of the preliminary round for ice hockey, and the perfect matchup it is. Our hosts Dalaran will play against Lordaeron to kick things off, and Kinndy, I’m very excited about this game.”

“You’re right about that, Lor. Lordaeron has a strong line up going into this game, but they also have a reputation for strongarming their competition. Their young captain, Arthas Menethil, has now three seasons in the AHL under his belt, but also one of the highest penalty counts in the league. It will definitely put Dalaran’s team to the test. They’ll have to keep him under control to have any shot at beating them.”

“Too right, Kinndy. There was some worry about how well this team would do, with the retirement of veterans Tirion Fordring and Saidan Dathrohan late last year, even with Turalyon Exarch still in the net, but they made a powerful showing in the qualifying games. And while his mettle hasn’t been truly tested yet, it looks like Taelan Fordring will do well in his old man’s skates.”

“Let’s talk about this Dalaran front line though, Lor, because I think if we just focus on the brute force of Lordaeron’s team, we might miss what a truly exceptional team our host city has assembled.”

“Right as ever, my small friend. The joke that Dalaran is a nation-city of adopted orphans is not entirely without merit, and it shows in their team here. Captain Liadrin Sunsworn, number 00, is a seasoned veteran of these games—this will be her fourth appearance, and I’d be hard pressed to say there’s a better defender in this sport. Her leadership has taken her team to the medal podium twice now, and she’s a viciously good player on the ice.”

“She’s definitely someone for this Lordaeron team to worry about, and she’s well matched by her fellow defender, number 23, Pained Moonborn, who has been compared to the great tree Teldrassil—towering and immovable.”

“That’s definitely a theme for Dalaran’s defense, especially with their goalie, number 10, the legend Maiev Shadowsong.”

“Lor, there is no goalie in this game like Maiev Shadowsong, she’s a veritable brick wall in the net. It will take some real finesse for Lordaeron to get anything past her.”

“Maiev is the ultimate veteran of this game, as well—an unprecedented eight Games, it’s simply astonishing. But while Dalaran has age and wisdom a-plenty, their offensive line is full of talented new blood.”

“That’s right Lor, and I think that will be where the wild cards will come in, especially with the newly dubbed Twin V’s. Vereesa Windrunner, the right wing number 03, is the only one of the set that has been here before. She’s a strong right, fast and smart, but I’m especially interested in their new left wing, number 42, Valeera Sanguinar.”

“Kinndy, Valeera is definitely someone to watch, you’re so right. If Vereesa is the anchor, Valeera is the speed. Her ability to steal the puck and be gone before the other team even realizes it put Dalaran in excellent position after the qualifying rounds. But let’s not forget the other rookie on this team, center number 69, Jaina Proudmoore.”

“Lor, I have to tell you, I’m incredibly excited to see what Proudmoore does. Everyone expected her to continue the family legacy after brother Derek’s injury a few years ago put him out of play. Certainly it seemed Head Coach and father Daelin was pushing her to head up the Kul Tiran team, but here she is surprising everyone by playing for Dalaran.”

“The Proudmoore family are legends in this game, Kinndy, and I am so curious I can hardly stand it to know why their youngest prodigy isn’t playing with brother Tandred under Daelin and Derek’s coaching. But if she’s anything like her family, she’ll be an explosive power in this game. And the fact that she’s been named alternate captain as a rookie tells me we’ll be seeing great things from her.”

“Whatever happens today, it’s going to be a fantastic match up, that’s for sure.”

Jaina’s skates made a reassuring shush on the ice as she made small figure eights while the captains exchanged pleasantries. Liadrin’s lip curled as she turned back to the team, and the tall quel’dorei paused briefly beside her.

“Careful with that one.”

Jaina snorted. “Arthas? Unfortunately, I’ve had the displeasure. I’ll deal with him.” Their families had known each other since before Jaina had been born, but she’d played both with and against him enough to know better than to fall for the nice guy façade he often tried to put on.

Liadrin nodded and skated back to the defensive zone.

They’d talked strategy extensively already. Lordaeron was aggressive and physical, but not nearly as fast or technical. They just had to watch out for those hits they all knew were coming.

She took a deep breath as Uther Lightbringer skated to the center, puck in hand. Jaina glanced over to the right where Vereesa was already lined up, fingers moving quickly.

You sure about this?

Vereesa nodded almost imperceptibly, ears shifting.

I’m fine. Let’s do this.

Jaina nodded, replacing her glove and skating forward for the puck drop, opposite Arthas, whose eyes were fixed firmly to his left—Jaina’s right.

“Windrunner.” He growled the name.

Jaina narrowed her eyes and watched as his focus slowly came back to center.

“Proudmoore.”

“Menethil.”

Jaina was delighted to realize he no longer had inches on her anymore.

“Alright, let’s have a good game.” Uther’s deep voice came between them. “Dalaran, ready?”

Jaina nodded.

“Lordaeron, ready?”

Arthas sneered.

The puck dropped, and Jaina was faster, flicking it left to Valeera while she shoulder-checked Arthas. He spun, off center, and then they were off.

For several minutes it was all back and forth, the puck traveling end to end across the ice sheet. The Lordaeron players were just as aggressive as Jaina had expected, but they didn’t seem to anticipate it returned. Jaina was everywhere, using her taller and broader stature to block anyone who looked to go after her Twin V’s, while Liadrin and Pained kept their zone clear.

And then Vereesa had the puck, and a clear shot on goal. A quick flick of her wrist, and it sailed right over Turalyon’s shoulder and into the net.

The crowd erupted.

“A fantastic shot by Windrunner gives us our first goal of the game, and—oh, well I never—seems that greatly upset young Menethil. The boy’s got a temper, we all know, but he just shoulder checked Windrunner on his way to the bench. Proudmoore looks like she’s ready to drop her gloves.”

“Let’s call that what it is, Lor. That was a shit move by Menethil. But I’m also surprised the refs didn’t say anything.”

Jaina seethed in Arthas’ direction as Vereesa held her back.

“It’s fine, Jaina, he’s just an asshole.”

“Yeah, he is,” she muttered under her breath, even as she turned back to her friend. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Please stop fussing.”

Modera looked between the two as they neared the bench. “Excellent shot, Vereesa. How’s your shoulder?”

Vereesa waved her off. “I was just telling Jaina I was fine.”

Modera nodded. “Good. Get back out there, but Tess is ready when you need a break. Keep that puck moving, ladies.”

Arthas’ scowl had deepened by the time Uther dropped the puck again. He was more ready for Jaina this time, and they scuffled over it before she managed to kick it back to Pained, who sent it up to Valeera, and so it went. The puck skipped across the ice as Lordaeron went on the attack. Liadrin and Pained bullied anyone who made it into their zone, clearing the puck out almost as soon as it was there. But Jaina and the Twin V’s struggled to get clear enough to make any decent shots.

Vereesa, especially.

“Kinndy, is it just me, or does young Menethil seem to be targeting Windrunner?”

“No Lor, I believe you’re right. He’s been coming at her hard since the start of the game, even more now that she’s put Dalaran in the lead, and OHHH that had to hurt as he drives her into the boards again.”

“But there’s Proudmoore with the response, and down he goes! She certainly seems ready to answer hit for hit.”

The whistle blew, ending the period, and Jaina rolled her neck as she drifted towards the bench.

“Proudmoore!” Modera’s bark snapped her to attention, freezing her in place as she reached for her water bottle. “You’ve been out of position for half the period, what is going on?”

“He’s targeting Ree. I’m trying my best to give her cover—”

“But you’re leaving your position open in the process.” Modera sighed loudly. “Windrunner, any idea why he’s got a bug up his ass?”

Vereesa shrugged, rolling her shoulders. “Not a clue, aside from the goal.”

Modera grunted. “Pained, play forward a little, we’ll stagger you and Liadrin and see if we can force them even further out of our zone. Windrunner, I want you to take a breather to start, that last hit was a lot—Greymane, you’re up. Proudmoore, I know you’re trying to block but I need you focused on the puck at least as much—actually… Sanguinar! I want to widen our margin, think you can put those quick feet to work?”

“Got it, boss.”

“What I like to hear. Proudmoore, Greymane, see if you can clear a path for her.”

“Looks like Dalaran is doubling down in this second period, Kinndy. Rookie number 77 Tess Greymane is in for Windrunner, providing a little more in the way of punch. It is interesting to see her on the line with Proudmoore, as she comes from a family of hockey players too, despite Gilneas failing to qualify for this year’s Games.”

“Another story for us to wonder about, Lor? But back to the game, look at Dalaran’s back line, too. Playing a defender forward to provide more support and cut off Lordaeron just that much earlier. They’re looking to answer aggression with aggression, it appears, and hold onto their lead. We’ll see if their plan works.”

Jaina grunted as she slammed into the boards, the puck skittering away. She pushed off, scrambling after it, and managed to dump it to Valeera in time to take another hit. She twisted free in time to take the pass from Valeera and toss it to Tess, rolling to block another attack as it was sent back to Valeera.

Valeera cut sharply on the ice and lined up her shot.

Then dumped it to Jaina, just as she swung past the net, tipping it just past the post.

This time, when Jaina was forced into the boards, it was her own team piling on her.

Her first Olympic goal.

Pained lifted her bodily as they all laughed, drifting to their bench. Modera just nodded.

“Good job, you three. See if you can do it again.”

“An unbelievable score by Proudmoore, off a last minute fake and assist by Sanguinar! That puts Dalaran up two-nothing in this second period.”

“Lor, that was an amazing dump score by the rookie alternate captain. But you can see Lordaeron is not happy, judging by the argument happening on their bench.”

“Yes, they do seem a tad bit upset by their apparent inability to answer Dalaran’s scoring.”

The Lordaeron team was very unhappy. The hits got harder, the penalties more flagrant, and by the start of the third, Jaina was starting to feel battered.

Worse, Arthas truly seemed to have it out for Vereesa.

Every time she stepped on the ice, he was on her, and Jaina had taken more than one hit meant for her. The last straw came when he charged Vereesa full steam, clearly intending to board her hard enough to hurt. Jaina took the hit, almost not reaching her friend in time, and the charging penalty.

“What a hit by Menethil! And there’s the whistle, as expected for that intentional boarding.”

“It would be impossible not to call that, Lor, it was so blatant. But I am a little surprised by the charging call on Proudmoore, when it was clear she was protecting Windrunner yet again.”

“Ree, this has to stop,” Jaina hissed from the penalty box.

Modera had pulled both Twin V’s during the 4v4, letting Serena and Tess take the ice. Vereesa looked away, refusing to respond until Modera marched over.

“Alright, spill, now. What’s going on.”

Jaina scowled at Vereesa’s continued silence. “Tell her or I will.”

The quel’dorei huffed. “Fine. I think I might be pregnant, and Jaina’s being ridiculously over-protective.”

Their coach blinked. “We’re going to talk more about this after the game, Windrunner. For now, you’re benched for the rest of the game. Don’t argue,” she added as Vereesa started to protest. “Proudmoore, I don’t want to see you in this box again. Get your head back in the game.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And that marks the end of our first ice hockey match of the 83^rd Winter Games, and what a showing by Dalaran, setting the tone with a shutout 2-0 win over Lordaeron in what can only be described as a slugfest.”

“Lor’themar, Dalaran really showed their skill in protecting their zone today, and scoring under threat, but I can’t help but point out that it felt like something besides hockey was happening on the ice.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Kinndy. Lordaeron’s focus seemed split for much of the game, like only half of it was on the actual game. Their aggression out of the gate, while not unusual, seemed less directed to scoring and protecting their zone, and more about just hurting Dalaran.”

“Exactly, Lor. Arthas Menethil, their captain and center, in particular. He seemed oddly focused on Vereesa Windrunner, more like he was enacting some kind of vendetta instead of playing hockey. And that definitely bled into his team, which just goes to show what happens when a captain is out of focus.”

“You know, Kinndy, I have to wonder if this was even about hockey at all.”

“Well, now you’ve got me intrigued. What tea have you got for us, Lor?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny anything, my small friend, but I do feel it behooves me to point to the drama in another of our favorite on-ice sports.”

“Oh my, Lor! Now you mention it, I think you might just be onto something. Calia Menethil, the younger sister of Arthas Menethil, is Lordaeron’s star figure skater, and their best hope for a gold. In fact, going into this season, she was thought to be a medal favorite.”

“Was being the keyword. With Sylvanas Windrunner’s surprising return and subsequent decimation of the competition in qualifying, despite the scandal that sent her into early retirement, the likelihood of Calia attaining gold has dropped severely. She has never once beaten Windrunner in competition.”

“Not to mention the new crop of skaters, some of whom are quite impressive. And Calia is now on the older side for a human skater. This is likely her last chance at a gold, or any medal.”

“Precisely, Kinndy, precisely. Now, who can say if that had anything to do with today’s game and Arthas Menethil’s seemingly intentional targeting of Vereesa Windrunner, but I believe this brings a whole new dimension to sibling rivalry.”

“Mm, so much drama, already! I really can’t wait to see what else is in store for us!”

Jaina groaned as she hefted her bag. Her whole body felt like one big bruise, despite all her gear. It had been worth it to protect their smaller players, Vereesa especially, but Tides was she feeling it.

“Healers, Proudmoore.”

She nodded tiredly at Liadrin, who was sat whispering quietly with Valeera. Everyone on the team knew they were sweet on each other, mostly because they kept doing shit like this. “I know, I’m heading straight there.”

“Hey, thanks again,” Valeera offered up. “Definitely lived up to your home team today. ‘Bruiser’ Proudmoore… hm, doesn’t quite roll off the tongue. We’ll workshop it.”

“Please don’t,” Jaina laughed.

“Try and stop me,” Valeera threatened with a smile, and Liadrin snorted.

“Behave, Val.”

Jaina rolled her eyes, smiling, and headed for the door. “I’ll see you guys later. Good game today, Tess.”

“Thanks, Jaina!”

She shouldered out the door, wincing again, and trying to remember where the closest healers office was when she spotted Vereesa. She was standing talking with Rhonin and what looked like another elf, though she couldn’t really tell in the dimmer light of the players’ hall.

Vereesa had not been happy to be sidelined the remainder of the game, and Modera had pulled her as soon as she was changed. Jaina felt bad, but it really had been for the best.

Still, she owed her best friend an apology.

“Hey, Ree…”

She let out an involuntary squeal as she was immediately engulfed in a hug by Rhonin.

“Jaina! You are amazing. Thanks for watching out for my wife out there.”

Vereesa snorted. “Your wife is right here, and please put Jaina down. I’m pretty sure she’s been ordered to the healers after all the hits she took for me.”

Jaina laughed a little breathlessly as Rhonin set her down, his face apologetic. “Well, if I didn’t need to go before I definitely do now. I think my bruises have bruises.”

“I’m not surprised.”

Jaina didn’t recognize the new voice. Or rather, she did, just, the context didn’t match, it couldn’t be—

“Hey there, sixty-nine.”

Jaina’s brain short circuited as her eyes found the owner of that voice. And it was her, which didn’t make sense unless— “You—”

The blonde elf, the figure skater from the other night gave a sly smile. “Me, yes.” She held her hand out to shake. “Sylvanas Windrunner. And despite his brutish methods, I agree with my brother-in-law’s sentiments. Thanks for looking after my little sister out there.”

“Jaina Proudmoore. I—” Jaina blinked. Nope, she was still there. She slowly reached out to reciprocate the handshake, somehow remembering to move into a more proper quel’dorei forearm grasp instead. And—oh, shit fucking Tides she just said— “You’re Ree’s sister?”

Vereesa looked at her like she had grown another head. “Yeah, I told you Sylvanas was competing in figure skating, remember? Why are you—oh. Oh. Oh, this is her, isn’t it? Your pretty skater from the other night?” Vereesa cackled. “Oh, Belore, that’s hilarious! You know, she was just asking—”

“Little Moon, do I need to remind you which of us has the most embarrassing stories from the others’ childhood?”

Vereesa promptly shut her mouth, but Jaina hardly noticed. Her brain was still stuck on pretty elf pretty elf Ree’s sister oh Tides pretty elf.

It was Rhonin who unstuck her, slapping her on the back with a laughing comment. “I think you might’ve broken her.”

Jaina’s whole face grew hot. “I. Um. Yeah. Ree’s my best friend. Of course I wanted to keep her safe.” She scowled. “I have no idea why Arthas was being an even worse dick than usual, or why he kept going after her.”

“I’m afraid that might be my fault.”

“Sylvanas, it’s hardly—”

Sylvanas rolled her eyes at her sister. “Fine, I’m afraid it’s likely because of me, is that better Little Moon?”

Vereesa sniffed. “Yes.”

Jaina cocked her head, confused. “Why would it have anything to do with you? Sorry, that sounded rude, didn’t it? It did. Sorry. I just meant, why would he go after Ree because of you.”

Sylvanas laughed, a low chuckle that hit Jaina right in her gut. “Because his little sister Calia has it out for me.”

Jaina frowned. She vaguely remembered that Calia was a figure skater, but that still didn’t make a whole lot of sense. “Why? I mean, are rivalries in figure skating that intense?”

Sylvanas laughed again, a darker sound this time. “You have no idea. Though, I’d say Calia’s rivalry with me is rather one-sided. I never really paid attention to her.”

“And then that bitch went and spread those rumors last Games,” Vereesa seethed. “She couldn’t beat Lady Moon, so she tried to ruin her career.”

Sylvanas shook her head. “She was extremely displeased when I started competing again. I would be very surprised if she didn’t go crying to her brother about it. So thank you, again, for watching out for her out there. Especially with her current state,” she added with a soft look at her younger sister.

“Ah, so you told them?”

Vereesa nodded, blushing. “Yeah, Modera had a healer confirm already. It’s official, and Tess will be taking my starter spot. Modera said I can still play, but only as a substitute and definitely not if we face Lordaeron again.”

Jaina scratched at her neck. “Sorry, Ree. But also, congratulations. I didn’t get to tell you that before the game.”

“No, it’s…” Vereesa sighed. “You have nothing to be sorry for. In fact, I owe you for looking out for me.”

“It was particularly bullheaded of you to insist on playing as long as you did,” Sylvanas added with a glare.

Vereesa rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, we’ve established that. Anyway, Jaina, you really should go see the healers. We’re headed over to watch the rest of Lirath’s game, but we’re all going out for dinner tonight. Do you want to join us?”

“Oh, he plays for Quel’Thalas, right?” Jaina sighed. “Good luck to him. As much as I would love to join you tonight, I’m afraid I’ve been summoned for Proudmoore family supper. With all of us here and involved in some way for the first time, Mum was insistent.”

Vereesa made a face. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Hopefully this will fill the quota and I can avoid any more.” She wrinkled her nose, annoyed now she was thinking about tonight. “Anyway. I’ll see you later, Ree. Rhonin. Um. Good to meet you properly, Sylvanas. At least I can call you something other than pretty skater elf lady in my head,” she added under her breath.

Completely forgetting about elves and their hearing.

At least, until Sylvanas laughed, and Vereesa groaned, and Jaina turned about as red as Durotar’s jerseys.

“Does that mean I have to stop calling you hot hockey player in mine?”

Jaina’s brain shorted again.

Chapter Text

Jaina stepped into the restaurant bracing herself. She knew she was late, and she’d catch hell from her mother for it. Worse, her mother had, of course, picked the fanciest, most expensive restaurant in Dalaran, and she’d been forced to dress for the occasion.

She’d always hated dresses and frilly things. But if there was one thing she’d learned from an early age, as soon as she started butting heads with her mother, it was malicious compliance. She felt good in the three-piece suit, the darker green of House Proudmoore. But no matter how well tailored, the lack of a dress would probably be strike two.

Third would be her hair, she knew. She’d worn it up in a french braid that showed off the sidecut her mother hadn’t seen yet, really drawing attention to it.

It was, of course, entirely possible that her mother had changed. That the stifling drive to turn her only daughter into a proper young lady had finally accepted defeat. But the idea made her laugh (a little hysterically, but at least internally). Katherine Proudmoore wasn’t wired to admit defeat.

So Jaina took a deep breath, preparing for the inevitable fight, pushed up her glasses, and smiled at the hostess. “Hi, Proudmoore party?”

The hostess hummed, blatantly checking her out before she gestured. “Of course. Right this way.”

Jaina blushed, still unused to that kind of attention, and followed her lead.

“You’re late.”

Jaina sighed. Strike one, check. “Apologies, Mother.” That one really was on her. She’d fallen asleep after seeing the healer, and despite the alarm she swore she’d set, woke up with barely enough time to get dressed and get to the restaurant. But Katherine Proudmoore didn’t do excuses, so Jaina offered none, especially since it seemed her mother had taken it upon herself to order for her already.

Her mother sniffed, looking her over. “It wouldn’t have killed you to wear a dress, you know. Menswear is hardly appropriate for—”

“This is a woman’s suit, mother,” she ground out in reply as she sat. Strike two, hello. “The entire fashion industry disagrees with you.”

“And Tides below, Jaina, what have you done to your hair?” Katherine’s pitch rose a full octave.

And there’s strike three. At least that’s out of the way.

“Now, now, Kath,” her father finally chimed in. “I think it looks sort of rakish on her.”

Jaina could hear Tandred snickering next to her.

“She doesn’t need to be looking rakish, Daelin! Tides sake, she’s a girl! I should never have let you corrupt her with your hockey and hitting.”

Ah, and there it was. The real root of contention. “Da didn’t corrupt me, Mum. I skated for you both, and decided I liked hockey better. And women. And more masculine leaning clothing.” She sighed, straitening her napkin and not even bothering to look up. They’d had this argument too many times. Especially after Derek had taken her suit shopping the first time, and taught her all about fit and how to tie a tie and the different cuts of shirt. “And I like shaving the side of my head.”

Across from her, Derek snorted. “I bet the ladies love it, too.”

Jaina shot him a grin as her father and Tandred laughed. “They do, actually.” She had no idea, really, but the choking sound her mother made was worth it.

“I suppose you all knew about this.”

Jaina rolled her eyes. “If you’d come to my games, you’d know too. I’ve had it like this since qualifiers.” She couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of her tone, and she felt more than saw her mother’s narrowing eyes in response.

“Speaking of games,” Derek chimed in before Katherine could continue. “That was a beast of one you had today. You took a lot of hits, Twinkletoes.”

Jaina snorted at the old nickname. “Yeah, Lordaeron were on a weird warpath today.”

Tandred barked out a laugh, his mouth half full of food. “No kidding! It was like they weren’t even playing hockey!”

Jaina chewed a bite of her salmon—she’d have preferred the wagu, but it wasn’t worth the argument—and thought about what Vereesa and Sylvanas had said. “Arthas wasn’t, I’m pretty sure. Mum might actually know more about it.”

Katherine huffed. “What would I know about your hockey drama?”

“Well, apparently Vereesa’s sister is Sylvanas Windrunner, and I thought you might know about her figure skating drama. They seemed to think it linked back to Calia.”

Her mother paused, genuinely startled. “Well. I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to willingly bring up figure skating, but I suppose you don’t pay enough attention to it to know what happened at the last Games.”

Jaina counted in her head, breathing through the urge to snark back. “No, but I’d love to hear it if you’re willing to share.”

She could feel her mother’s eyes on her as she continued eating, and knew just what a conundrum she’d handed her. On the one hand, how garish to share gossip in public. On the other, the chance to flaunt her knowledge and get Jaina talking about figure skating wasn’t something she was likely to pass up.

“I don’t know anything about it involving the Menethil girl,” Katherine finally said, “but from what I’ve seen of her I wouldn’t put it past her to have caused the whole mess, now you mention it. She’s always been a bit of a drama queen.” She took a small bite, a thoughtful look on her face. “Hm. Well, the first thing you need to know is that Sylvanas Windrunner is figure skating royalty. Her mother Lireesa was a rare talent, and Sylvanas followed her example beautifully. She’s been fairly untouchable in the rankings her entire career.”

Jaina was hit, very suddenly, with the memory of Sylvanas practicing alone the other night, the sheer grace she exhibited on the ice.

“After she came first in the last games, there was a rash of rumors that cropped up.” Katherine’s brow furrowed. “We never did figure out where they started, but they were very suddenly everywhere.”

“Rumors?” Jaina prompted. She remembered Ree had said something similar.

“That she’d slept with a judge, or judges, and that’s why she won. Ridiculous, really, her talent spoke for her, and the technical panel agreed. She kept her medal, but I will admit the skating community can be vicious when they want. She was ostracized. Her coach, Thalyssra, ended up retiring, though I believe she’d been looking to do so already. It was a shame, really. I was both surprised and impressed when Sylvanas showed back up in qualifying. We all thought she was done.”

“Huh.” It was definitely not what Jaina had expected.

“You could do a lot worse than be friends with Sylvanas Windrunner, you know.”

Jaina froze, confused. Was her mother… proud? Was that what that was? “Thanks? She’s Ree’s big sister, so we’ve run into each other a few times, and probably will again?” She hoped, anyway.

A small smile teased Katherine’s lips. “Maybe your friend can get you to watch some proper skating then, since Tides know I haven’t been able to convince you.”

Jaina opened her mouth to snark back and stopped. The idea of watching Sylvanas skate was, actually, one she liked.

Well, shit.

“I make no promises.”

Katherine rolled her eyes. “Of course not.”

Sylvanas drifted across the ice, letting the music set her pace. It was freeing, not thinking five moves ahead, not worrying about setup, just… feeling. She skipped through footwork to the underbeat of the song, letting it lead into a spin, another long loop of the sheet. The axel came on the drop beat simply because it felt right, as did the spin combinations that followed.

It wasn’t a something that came naturally to her, feeling her way through a skate. It was something Nathanos had pushed her to learn after the disaster the last Games had become. She’d been so much in her own head, and the practice had helped, a lot. So much so that she relied on it every time she felt herself sinking back into her head and second guessing this whole comeback.

The song slowed to a close, and Sylvanas let her spin unwind with it.

The sound of applause startled her out of her breathing, and her eyes snapped open. She relaxed immediately at the sight of her tall, lanky best friend stepping onto the ice.

“Bloody good, that. How was supper with the fam?”

Sylvanas snorted at Nathanos. “You know, you could’ve come, and then you wouldn’t have to ask me how it went.”

“Yes, but I already had a date. If you’d wanted me to skip it, you know I would’ve.”

Sylvanas waved him off. “No, it was fine. Alleria and Minn’da were there.”

Nathanos blinked. “Crikey. So it really was a full affair.”

Sylvanas nodded, pushing herself into patterns that her friend mimicked. “It was. But… it was good. Little Moon is pregnant. She said I could tell you.”

Nathanos squawked. “Good bloody Light, you’re joking! You’re not joking?” Sylvanas shook her head. “Wait, she’s not still planning to play the rest of the Games, is she? I saw the highlight reel, that was a brutal game.”

Sylvanas sighed and shook her head. “Yes and no. Modera has taken her off the starting line, but is going to let her substitute in here and there still. Though, not if they end up playing Lordaeron again.”

“That’s good,” Nathanos nodded, absently. “The fuck was with that game, anyway?”

“Arthas Menethil.”

Nathanos’ face went through a full range of expressions before settling on fuming mad. “That bloody fucking bitch. Fucking family.”

“Yes.” Sylvanas rolled her neck, then smirked a little. “Though they apparently bit off more than they can chew with her new teammate.”

“Oh?” Nathanos propped his head on his hands as he skated past her, grin wide. “Do tell, bestie.”

Sylvanas bore her fangs in a grin to match his. “She’s Kul Tiran.”

“Oooo, we stan a big woman, go on.”

“She’s the best friend Little Moon has been on about for years.”

Nathanos huffed. “Right, so, that tells me nothing. Except that she’s probably as protective of her as you, which, fine, but. Sylv. I need to know.” He slid to a stop and gripped her shoulders. “Is she hot?”

One eyebrow cocked. “I don’t think she’s your type, darling.”

Nathanos wrinkled his face in feigned annoyance, making his bushy mustache wiggle. “But is she your type?”

Sylvanas felt her face flush. “She’s also the hockey player I ran into the night before the opening.”

Nathanos chortled, doing a little dance on the ice. “I’d say that’s a yes, then. So, next question. When’re you seeing her again? Wait, is she why you were freestyling to get out of your head?”

Sylvanas shoved him and skated away without answering. He chased after her.

“Wait, when’s Dalaran’s next game? We’re going, right? Sylvanas, I have to meet her!”

“Nat, enough—”

“Not until you agree!”

“This is ridiculous, she’s my sister’s best friend and teammate—”

“Nope, not doing that, you’re interested, I can tell.”

“Nat—”

“We’re going to the game, Sylv, you’re going to introduce me, and that’s it.”

Sylvanas slid to a stop with a huff. “Fine.”

Nathanos whooped and danced a victory lap before hitting a hard stop in front of her. “Now, how was supper aside from Little Moon’s news?”

She laughed softly and gestured to the bench. “It was good. It’s strange to have Alleria here. She hasn’t been to a Games since she retired from the biathalon. It’s… nice. To have her support.” She sat, grabbing a towel and wiping down her skates. “You know I wouldn’t be here without you and Minn’da.”

It was true. After the fallout from Calia’s rumor spreading—and she knew it was Calia, because Calia had made sure she knew—she’d gone home. Retired, not because she wanted to, but because the skating world had closed ranks against her, and Sylvanas just. Hadn’t known what else to do. And Lireesa had supported her decision, not because she felt it was right, but because it had been her decision.

She’d also been there to remind her that just because she wasn’t competing anymore, didn’t mean that she had to give up skating. Lireesa and Nathanos had been her primary support—getting her back on the ice, getting her out of her head, and when Sylvanas had realized she wasn’t, in fact, ready to retire, that she felt she still had something to prove, wanted to prove, they’d been there to support her return.

And it helped, having them both here. So much.

Nathanos wiggled his mustache at her until she laughed. “Yeah, yeah, but Sylv. You got yourself here. In spite of every opinion stacked against you.”

She snorted. “You mean to spite.”

“Well, yeah, that too.” He grinned again. “Spite’s a great motivator. So’s a pretty girl.”

Sylvanas groaned. “Leave it alone, Nat.”

“Not a chance!”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

Sylvanas heaved a dramatic sigh, then laughed. “Yeah. Yeah I do, you damn queen.”

Nathanos preened.