Stretching your arms for a moment, your attention returned to the commander. She was asking a rather important question – one that held little importance to you now. Regardless, you declined her request for details. “There is nothing for me to say, Ma’am.”
The commander was disappointed, and you understood the reasons for this. However, there was no reason for you to reveal anything about yourself and the Queen. Any further dialogue on the subject would be considered tasteless, given your new traitorous status. Degrading yourself wasn’t high on the list of things you wanted to do in front of these elves. Before you could apologize to the commander for your refusal, she mysteriously perked up. It would seem she found a way to coax the truth out of you, and was in no rush to conceal this fact. You decided to play along for the moment.
“You may leave, then.” The commander quipped, the enthusiasm she bore a moment ago having vanished. You blinked in confusion. You knew that you weren’t wrong in your discovery. She must have been planning something, but you chose to take your leave. Upon exiting the tent, you discovered a slight problem. A thick darkness surrounded the camp, rendering any visibility into the forests impossible. The ranger’s tents were set up in a circular pattern to ward off the night, almost as a barrier to protect the largest tent you had just walked out from. Each of these canvas tents were equipped with a series of torches to assist in warding off the darkness. It didn’t take long to figure out that it was night.
So this was what the commander was betting on. “May I trust you’re not stupid enough to go searching for your beastly companion in the dead of night?” She asked, flowing out of the tent to stand beside you. As you took notice of her arrival, you noticed her gentle, blue eyes gazing upon you. Growing nervous of her soft gaze, you found an exceptional quantity of grass to stare at just beside the entrance to the tent. “During your time here, the sun has gone down. It would be best if you stayed in the camp for tonight.” The commander wasn’t pushing this on you like her requests from before. Rather, it seemed like she was inviting you personally.
“Shall we?” With a brief pat on your shoulder, the commander began walking to her tent. You eventually followed. There was no idea to know what she was planning, but it would be discourteous of you to refuse such an offer. As you passed one of the nameless tents, a torch illuminated the commander’s bare legs while she walked. You were barely stowed your surprise, noticing the healthy, orange glow that now emanated from her legs. While the sight was dazzling, you were curious to ask why she declined to put her legwear back on. Trudging through the mud and clusters of damp grass barefoot, you figured she was planning something.
It felt like the right time to inquire these intentions. “You’ll go barefoot, Ma’am?” A knowing smirk appeared on the commander’s face as she turned to face you, as if your question was expected. She merely shrugged and went back on her way, dragging you on a lengthy journey around the camp. Her lack of cooperation was no surprise, but you couldn’t help but wonder what she would gain from doing this. You wanted to know about the commander – about the woman behind her rank. “May I at least know your name?”
The commander stopped in her tracks, tilting her head to the side in thought. A few moments of hesitation prepared you to receive a disappointing answer. “My name is Sylvanas, and I’m the next heir to the Windrunner Clan.”
Ah… ‘Sylvanas’, then? It was a beautiful name. It fit her forward-thinking personality, and even more so added to the reasons you wanted to know more about her. Still, her willingness to indulge you was more than a surprise. While this could mean any number of things, ranging from her trust in you to a slightly more disparaging outcome, she didn’t seem to have any hostile intent. Besides, her last name was a little more thought-provoking.
The Windrunner Clan was renowned for their service to the royal family, and even more for their triumphs on the battlefield. In specific, heroes of the Windrunner Clan were often coined as being ‘the fleet of foot’ for their extraordinary maneuvers during battle. Considering all of this, it felt strange for such a powerful individual running errands away from the capital city. This felt like a sensitive topic, so you spared Sylvanas the questions. “That’s a lovely name.” Sylvanas responded with a lighthearted grin before resuming her walk through the camp. Both you and Sylvanas were silent the rest of the way. Nothing needed to be said from that point on. It was obvious that she wasn’t interested in discussing her role in the family.
On the approach of a large tent towards a corner of the camp, Sylvanas began speaking again. “Before we find you a place to sleep, I need one thing taken care of.” The two of you stop in front of this tent, as Sylvanas bends over at the entrance. A torch latched onto the front of this tent exposed these moments for you. The firm muscles beneath her emblazoned skin were drawn taut from her shift in posture. Sylvanas had a slim yet muscular build – a body fit for combat. Indeed, she was a real Windrunner.
As Sylvanas slipped back upward, you averted your gaze from her lower half. In her hands is an empty wooden bucket that she picked up from in front of the tent. Your suspicion gets the better of you. "What's the bucket for?"
In response, Sylvanas hands the bucket to you. “Bring me a pail of clean water from our well, and then we’ll talk.” Before you could question this demand, she slipped into the tent. You caught a glimpse of something just before she left your view. Light beads of sweat accumulated across her brow, her body communicating these secret intentions of hers. It was hard to believe, but it seemed like Sylvanas was nervous.
Bucket in tow, you journeyed back to the middle of the camp. Just as you noted before, this was where the well Sylvanas spoke of was. A short respite was exactly what you needed to formulate the possibilities regarding her intentions. Sylvanas displayed similar reactions during the investigation, particularly when your tongue graced the sole of her foot. You weren’t sure what she had to be nervous about, but there seemed to be only one possibility now. Sylvanas was contemplating something erotic.
The reason she walked through the camp barefoot, and now the reason you’re carrying a bucket full of water back to her tent. Was she planning on testing you, to prove your affiliation with the Queen? Showing your lineage mark should have dissuaded her from taking such action, but it was still a possibility.
Standing in front of her tent with the requested bucket of water, something about this situation felt uncomfortably familiar. You paused in thought.
- - -
“Would you please bring me a glass of warm milk? I’m having trouble getting to sleep.” The Queen waved to you from underneath the silk-imbued comforter neatly covering her bed. It was your will to accept this task from your master, despite the implications of a male servant entering the Queen's personal chambers this late at night. She didn't care; why should you?
- - -
Shuffling these memories back into the depths of your mind, you attributed these suspicions to the recent developments regarding the Queen’s betrayal. However, everything just felt too similar to be a mere coincidence. If Sylvanas truly knew something about your service, then perhaps she was looking to share the Queen's latest conquest. This was looking to be an exceptionally long night.
Working past the entrance flap to the tent, you soon found Sylvanas sitting on the edge of a lengthy cot. Her legs were crossed again, much like they were during your interrogation. It seemed like an unconscious habit produced by her tension. This posture drew your gaze down to her feet, as they both dangled in the air, unable to reach the roughspun fabric that formed the floor of this tent. As you imagined, there were smudges of dirt and loose pieces of foliage plastered about her feet. Upon catching sight of a scrubbing brush in her hands, you began to piece together what Sylvanas was planning.
“I brought the water.” You stated, watching your silent partner as she flexed the soft bristles of the rectangular brush. Her eyes veered upward as you placed the bucket beside her cot. Averting eye contact, you took a look around the interior of the tent. Besides the cot Sylvanas was sitting on, there was no place for you to sleep.
No sense in jumping to conclusions. You returned your gaze to Sylvanas, only to find her deep in thought. “I’d like to talk to you.” She said, handing you the scrubbing brush. “And I’d like for you to clean my feet while we do.”
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