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Timeless: a Wranduin Story	By : flagfish Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 4143 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Warcraft nor any of the characters,nor do I make any money or profit from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
There was in Jaina compassion enough that she didn't seize Kael straight away; she'd been prepared for this sort of thing, at her age she knew that even the best of intentions could lead down a dangerous path. Here, she understood, was a purpose borne of some deep and penetrating ache.
This time, Kael didn't say stuff like let's go to the Well or I wanna see the harp, or you have to say you'll dance with me; he removed himself delicately from the bench and began making his way to the exit, speechless like he'd just seen a ghost.
Jaina didn't know what it was exactly that had him turn on his kingdom before, or what had made him ally spontaneously with Kil'jaeden— from the short glimpse she had into who he might have been, she could see it had all left him very broken and lost.
He really had been a child, raised sheltered and surrounded by luxury, whose greatest concern had been the academic matters of the Kirin Tor— until one day his days in the sun came abruptly to an end when news from home came of the attack. In the life of an elf, he may well have been no farther along in maturation than Anduin, maybe he still was at the end of adolescence when the weight of the kingdom fell on his shoulders.
He'd had no knowledge of politics or national leadership, and the humans took full advantage of his naiveté— after the fall of Quel'thalas, unlike Anduin during Varian's absence, Kael had no one older or wiser remaining on whom to fall back. Of those remaining, his closest advisors were no older than himself. Was that how it was? Jaina wondered, had he really been just a child, left with the charge of a grieving nation...?
She placed her hand on his wrist very gently, and got him to look at her; "Tell me," she asked, "What are you going to do?"
He regarded her somberly, like he was trying to find words to make her understand; "Is it the Well of Eternity?" Jaina asked, "Are you thinking of heading there?"
She wondered if Kil'jaeden was calling to him through the Well, and felt disappointed to think this was really what he'd wanted to come here for; she got her hands on his face to make him pay attention, and said, "I won't be harsh with you the way I was in Dalaran. I'll restrain you the gentlest way I can—"
There was in his eyes a glimmer of fondness, his hands came warmly on hers on his face; "To think I had lived to hear you offer such beautiful things to me directly," he said, "and that I was forced to turn them down."
She didn't resist when he took one of her hands and kissed her knuckles, there was some consolation in seeing him flirt again; but she understood it would have to come to force, she really would have to bind him against his will. "I'm sorry," she said, there was none of the venom in her that she'd shown at the Violet Hold; the arcane binds she got on him latched instantly into place, and she thought she'd never seen him so satisfied.
His eyes went shut and his mouth stretched in a smile that was wholesome and warm, like sunshine; he chuckled and said, "Jaina, my— darling—"
When his gaze fell on her again, there only was honest affection, "You drive a very hard bargain," he whispered, "you have no idea—"
At that, he vanished from within the binds, Jaina cursed to find he'd tricked her, and that he'd actually made his way to the door; he paused there, however, visibly regretful , she could tell he felt he really had to go.
"This isn't some game," she said irritably, "you're starting to test my patience."
"No," he replied, "It definitely isn't a game."
But even then, he wasn't trying to be devious or cunning; it really seemed he felt there was something he just had to do.
It made it that much more difficult to hold him back, she almost wished she hadn't got to know him; she chased him out of the backstage area and through the gardens, where the spells they cast at each other seemed only slightly out of place amidst the glittering enchantments already flashing all through the yard. Two times she'd just nearly got a hold on him, she was surprised to find he was at least as powerful as she was; had he been holding back all along?
Already Jaina had mentally planned what techniques she would use to halt him from approaching the Well, and how she could diminish his magic if he'd got there— but it occurred to her somewhere during the chase that he wasn't heading to the Well at all.
He had got about halfway through one of the gardens when he just stopped; his attention was visibly transfixed elsewhere, and his only acknowledgment of Jaina's presence came with a casual wave of his hand, to cast a ward around himself against her magic.
Then he just stood there, slightly out of breath, his hair all out of sorts as he stared out from beyond the bushes at absolutely nothing.
Jaina regarded him with combined irritation and confusion, she batted half-assedly at his ward, which made a low, hollow sound; "What," she muttered while catching her breath, "What are you—"
She looked out from beyond the bushes, but saw nothing there which would have made him stare; it was just the regular garden, with just guests walking through, she wondered what he had up his sleeve. Is it ley lines? she wondered, though she didn't feel any; is it some demonic power he can sense...?
Maybe this was something to do with the blood elves' infamous addiction; maybe he really was crazy, like people had said. Either way, she was at the ready to restrain him again.
But there came no outburst after that, he merely stood and looked on; when Jaina turned to ask something else, the words never came. It occurred to her she'd seen him like this, just the other night, when he'd told her outright he had loved her.
At the direction he'd been staring there was a small group of what looked like Kaldorei priestesses, but it wasn't they who had Kael's attention; it dawned on Jaina that Master wasn't Kil'jaeden at all.
"That's Illidan, isn't it," she asked, her fingertips slid smoothly along the outline of Kael's ward, and her voice sounded with audible disbelief; he had just looked so different, she'd never have recognized him.
It appeared that even before going demon, he'd been quite tall, his eyes glowed bright amber and his hair had a dark and silky, heavy shimmer that fell around him like a veil.
The naked innocence of it came to Jaina completely unexpected; it occurred to her that at the absence of anyone else older or wiser, the child prince of Quel'thalas had turned to very old relations for guidance.
She could tell Kael had recognized Illidan's magic even now, without the demonic powers he still didn't have; she didn't know what exactly had happened between them, or why they'd parted ways— but whatever reasons Kael had, it was evident in the end he'd bled despite them.
Had he come to repent?
All the while, Kael hadn't said a word; his gaze caressed Illidan with intangible affection, with a sort of love he hadn't known until it was gone.
Illidan had never told him outright he'd been fond of Tyrande, but Kael knew of him the unspoken and intimate, he'd felt the forbidden, fragile heart everyone knew the Lord of Outland didn't have.
He must be happy tonight, Kael'thas thought, now that he's stood by her side.
Have I ever seen him truly happy...?
On looking closely now, he could see discreet little gestures, Illidan briefly touched Tyrande's shoulder, his teeth flashed candidly when he smiled— it was a curious thing to behold, like Kael had never truly believed Illidan was ever really Kaldorei.
"His eyes," he finally spoke to Jaina directly; "his eyes— were amber—"
--
Anduin hadn't realized how hopeless his Darnassian truly was until it was finally put to the test in this real-life setting; apparently, much as he'd impressed his tutors at Stormwind, his excellent scores did not translate to practical use. He could see people try with commendable effort to understand what he was on about when he'd asked if anyone had seen a group of priestesses.
"Their accent is impossible to understand...!" Anduin said to Wrathion with vast annoyance, "And they all speak so fast...!"
"Well, what did you think you were gonna do when you approached the High Priestess for your testing? She'd probably flunk you just for your crappy Darnassian."
"My Darnassian isn't crappy."
"Could've fooled me."
"You try it, then, you talk to them."
"Maybe I will."
"Great, go for it."
"I will. I am."
Wrathion stood for some moments and examined the crowd, like he was trying to pick out his prey; finally, he approached a group of night elves stood by the dessert table and asked very charmingly in draconic whether they agreed that Anduin was dressed like a complete asshat.
Anduin's draconic had been put to use much more frequently than his Darnassian, and he understood everything; he tugged Wrathion hard by the wrist. "Okay, I get it," he whispered angrily, "you don't want to be here."
Also, I should have just used draconic.
"If you think I'm going to lead you to those priestesses, you've got another thing coming," Wrathion said, "I'm completely opposed to that, and I'm going to stop you if it's the last thing I do."
"Stop me from what?" Anduin flung his arms to his sides, "They're involving me so I can purify the Dragon Soul...!"
"They're involving me so I can purify the Dragon Soul!" Wrathion mimicked Anduin's words in a ridiculous and high-pitched tone, while waving his fingertips around; "You shouldn't even be here, this isn't even your business, you're nosey— you're self-righteous— not to mention ungrateful—"
"Oh!" Anduin huffed, "Oh! I'm self-righteous?! Me?!"
"Pff— hello?! You are like— the embodiment of self-righteousness—"
"You— absolute— I'm gonna like—"
"Go for it, smite me like right here, that'll look real great to the priestesses, not to mention the queen or whoever..."
"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? I bet you'd just love to see me screw up in front of the priestesses—"
"What I'd love is for you to go back home and stay out of my business— "
"I bet you would— I bet you'd just love that— and what the hell do you mean, I'm ungrateful— what exactly have I not been grateful for? No, really, enlighten me, oh great one, what is this elusive and mysterious thing you've done for me that was just soooo great that I haven't properly expressed my gratitude for? Was it what amazing company you are at parties, because I must have somehow missed that part—"
Wrathion's eyes appeared alight with living fire, like he was gonna devour him any minute; he said nothing for some time, then quietly muttered, "And here I could've sworn you were awake enough to have remembered it, you certainly seemed to enjoy it enough."
"W— what are you—" Anduin regarded him with confusion, until understanding finally set in; he meant that time in the cave, when Wrathion went down on him.
"Oh," he said quietly, now suddenly shy; he couldn't help smiling a bit, before he remembered he had to look angry; "Well— but I did thank you for that, why are we on about that now?"
"Oh, you thanked me! Yeah, that's great, Anduin Wr— Anduin, what I wanted in return for that was totally just being thanked."
"You just said you wanted to be thanked!"
"By the Titans, you're so stupid!"
"What the hell! Why am I the stupid one! You're the one who's stupid!"
"Oh, right, Anduin, whatever you say. I'm stupid, and you're, like, this— completely perceptive genius who just— understands— everything—"
"That's not what I said! I never said I understand everything—"
"Well, you act like you do—"
"I don't act like I understand everything!"
He'd been partway to whatever poisonous words he had prepared next when something occurred to him: was Wrathion just pissed because that night he, Anduin, never finished him off? Was that what he was trying to say with what I wanted in return was totally just being thanked?
He paused where was stood and regarded him for some moments; then, very quietly, he mouthed, "Are you— upset because— I didn't— because that night— after you— you know—"
Now Wrathion flushed; he got his arms crossed and looked aside moodily, he felt his ears burning hot; "Well, obviously," he stammered. "I mean— what, you only realized that now—"
Now Anduin flushed, too; "Oh," he said stupidly; "Oh— well— that is— you could have just said something—"
"Yeah, well— yeah— well— like— you should have known on your own—"
"Well— how would I know— if you don't say anything—"
"Pff! How would— it's only polite—"
"W—what kind of... Okay— okay, know what— okay, fine. Maybe you have a point."
Now Wrathion regarded Anduin suspiciously out the corner of his eye; they both appeared terribly awkward.
"Well, so you'll do it?" Wrathion asked without shame.
"What? Well— that is— yeah."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah, I mean, I guess I owe you— so—"
"Okay," Wrathion nodded, his mood appeared visibly improved; "Yeah, okay, that's cool."
(On to Chapter 15)
--
A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you're over 18 and feel like giving it a try, please let me know (contact info on my profile). Thank you!
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Timeless: a Wranduin Story