Chapter Text
“There’s no two ways around it, Sylvanas.” Lor’themar pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his seat. “You’re going to have to look for a sponsor.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Sylvanas glared in response. A sponsor? For her girls? Even if Silvermoon University was only a branch campus, surely they must have funding for their own teams.
“It’s not ridiculous.” Lor’themar toyed with a button at the end of his shirt. He’d untucked it since they arrived at the bar, just as Sylvanas had released the tension in her shoulders. Nothing like a cold beer after work, right?
“The Rangers are our school’s pride and joy. They represent what it is to be a student and a quel’dorei. I simply can’t understand why the University as a whole wouldn’t support funding them for a competition.”
“Sylvanas,” Lor’themar drawled, leaning across the table. Sylvanas watched carefully as his eyes narrowed. He made an awfully good dad impression. “Competitive archery isn’t exactly something you can join the lads at the pub for-”
“Of course it is.” Sylvanas leaned back, crossing one long leg over the other. In her defense, she pointed at the screen across from them where the Worgen Bloodfangs were currently playing.
“You ripped the remote away from the barkeep and turned that on yourself,” Lor’themar deadpanned. “Do you see anyone else watching it?”
“It’s a Wednesday night.” Sylvanas couldn’t suppress the indignant roll of her eyes. She was sick of being told no. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. All I’m asking for is enough money for new uniforms for the girls and a trip to Mulgore for the competition. I’m not demanding a new facility or something else extravagant.”
“I can’t just free up funds every time you have an idea. It has to pass through the proper channels.”
“But Lor, we’re friends.” Sylvanas attempted her best impression of a puppy. At Lor’themar’s suppressed snort, she knew she wasn’t winning with sympathy.
“And because we’re friends, I’ll help you out.” Taking a long sip from his beer, he raised a brow. “Unless you’d like to petition the Board of Trustees directly. I’m sure Kael-”
“I thought I told you we don’t mention Mister Insufferable after work.” A sneer crossed Sylvanas’s face before she continued. “Plus, even if I did want to regale him with my presence, he only cares about academics.”
“That leaves you only one option.”
“Yes. I know. A sponsor.” Sylvanas downed the rest of her drink, casually wiping the foam from her upper lip. “And who do you propose I ask to sponsor the girls?”
“Unfortunately, your options are limited,” Lor’themar said. He waved a waitress down for another round of beer before continuing. “Rugby is all the rage right now. It’s what people usually watch. You know, when someone doesn’t hijack the TV.” He pointed to a television across the bar, where a burly group of tauren were squaring up to face an equally rowdy group of dwarves. “It’s only the training season and already people are excited.”
“Ugh.” Sylvanas scoffed, making a point of peering down her nose at the opposite television. “How do people find this appealing?” Her comment earned some odd looks from other bargoers, but she pointedly ignored their criticism.
“Don’t ask me why. I’m just telling you the facts. Archery just isn’t...as exciting, I suppose.”
“It’s plenty exciting!” Sylvanas slammed her palm against the table, nearly startling the waitress as she delivered their drinks.
“We can sit here and argue about the merits of exciting sports all night, but that isn't going to help you.” Lor’themar quickly downed another third of his drink. Sylvanas had grown used to having that effect on him. “I have a few ideas for sponsors. Well, one in particular. You’re just not going to like it.”
“Spit it out, then.”
“Our new adjunct professor.”
“New adjunct…” Sylvanas filed through her mental list of faculty. She’d learned most of them by name and at least what department they covered. Still, she couldn’t quite place any new staff.
“You did meet Dr. Proudmoore during her welcome breakfast, didn’t you?”
“Afraid I didn’t. Who is she again?”
Lor’themar’s eyed widened in disbelief. “You...you don’t know…?”
Proudmoore. Proudmoore. Where had she heard that name before-
Oh.
“The human?” Sylvanas’s ears twitched in irritation. “The Kirin Tor mage? She’s our new adjunct?”
“Former Kirin Tor,” Lor’themar corrected. “And yes, she is. And we at Silvermoon University are delighted to have such an esteemed professor of theoretical arcane studies here at our own campus.”
“Huh,” was all Sylvanas could say, taking a long sip from her beer. “How would she fund my girls?”
“Not her directly. Don’t you know her family name. Haven’t you ever had a package delivered?”
“She’s the same Proudmoore as the shipping company?”
“Sylvanas, please for once pay attention to these things.” Lor’themar could barely hold back his frustration. “Yes. While Dr. Proudmoore is a highly talented mage, she is also heir to her family’s industry. She has connections. Why don’t you speak to her?”
Sylvanas groaned as she slid further down her chair. She knew her dramatics had no effect on Lor’themar - her old college roommate and now valued friend - but that didn’t stop her from acting out. She did not plead for things, much less money. She hated asking for assistance from anyone. But now, she’d not only have to ask, but ask a human? The numbers of her team’s total costs flashed through her mind as she contemplated raising the money herself. Even with her salary, it would take...years to raise everything needed. Maybe she wasn’t entirely honest with Lor’themar. The Rangers needed new uniforms, yes, but more importantly they needed the best equipment. Her girls deserved it.
And if that meant begging a human for help… The thought made her jaw tighten and her ears pin back hard against her head.
“Are you considering?” Lor’themar gently prodded.
“...Yes.” Sylvanas barely said the word through gritted teeth, but she said it. “I’ll consider it.”
“You’re a smart woman. Invite her to a training session. Show her what the Rangers are all about.”