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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
- 15
- 16
- 17
Wrathion took off with complete lack of grace; for all his majesty, his wings flapped with awkward imbalance and great gusts of wind, they brushed roughly on branches and sent leaves and blades of grass asunder— all because he was so nervous.
Fuck, he thought, now Anduin probably thinks that's how I normally take off, like I'm some kind of idiot—
"Sorry," he stammered while fighting to straighten himself midair, but one of his hind legs bumped on another branch, and then some birds flew out of that tree and squawked loudly.
This is seriously the worst, he thought, I can't believe I just did that.
He was certain Anduin must be vastly unimpressed, that he must find him a very lame dragon, and felt direly he must clean up his act and show off some majestic flying moves; Anduin, however, was mostly just terrified after the rough takeoff, like some old memories of Onyxia had threatened to return and he couldn't really tell one dragon from the other. He might have braced himself as per his extensive riding practice on horse- and gryphon-back, except that Wrathion had no saddle or reins, and Anduin had no control over where he was going or how fast.
For all his meticulous riding etiquette, he found himself now unexpectedly helpless, his arms came firmly round the dragon's long neck and he held on for dear life.
"Hey—" Wrathion said, he paused somewhere midair, his wings flapped at his sides with great force and sound; "That's kind of tight, think you can ease up on—"
"Slow down," Anduin muttered, "Also, could you straighten yourself, I'm falling—"
"Oh—" Wrathion said rapidly, he was so bloody embarrassed; "Shit, sorry—"
He wasn't exactly certain what Anduin had meant by asking that he straighten himself, he tried carefully to level his body in a way he thought would be reasonable for a rider. "That all right?" he asked.
Anduin hadn't eased the death grip he had round his neck; "Straighten, I mean, your back is at an incline, I'm sliding off—" The words came fast and nervous, Anduin had his eyes forcibly shut all the while; it occurred to Wrathion that for someone who wasn't a dragon, perhaps this whole experience might be very different indeed.
"I'm trying to straighten, okay, just calm down— How's this?"
"This part! This part of you should move up!"
Anduin tried lightly to tap Wrathion's thigh with one of his feet, but he held on so tightly with his entire body he nearly lost his gauge on moving his leg; he quickly tried to get his grip back, and ultimately wound up giving Wrathion's thigh a hard kick.
"Ow! What the hell, I'm not some horse—"
"Please just straighten yourself! This is— oh, Light be praised, thank you—"
Anduin's pulse was going impossibly fast, he still had his eyes firmly shut and was holding on forcibly with all four of his limbs; Wrathion took it as personal criticism and became defensive.
"Sheesh, I never got so moody when you carried me, when I was a whelp..."
"Wh— I carried you gently! Gently!"
"I am carrying you gently."
Anduin didn't respond; he just wished for this to be over, but because he'd not said anything, Wrathion continued with his defensive explanations.
"It's not my fault if you don't appreciate— do you know what an honor— what an opportunity it is— for a mortal— to get a ride on a dragon's back— and I'm the last of my kind, too, so—"
"Please can we just land—"
"What— you think you could do better? You think it's any day that a dragon just— lets some mortal— like—"
"No, Wrathion! I don't think anything, I'm bloody terrified— please just land already!"
The words had caught Wrathion entirely off guard; it hadn't crossed his mind this might be terrifying. Somehow, the awareness he'd wound up menacing instead of majestic was a terrible personal blow.
Some moments passed before he spoke again;
"You're terrified...?" He asked with a soft note of defeat, he grew quiet after that and only headed to the nearest cliff in silence.
He had tried his best to make the landing gentle, and then lowered himself to the ground so that Anduin could climb off; for some seconds, Anduin still hadn't moved, Wrathion became aware of his arms and his chest, his face buried in the scales of his neck— How did I get him so afraid of me...? He wondered.
Anduin slowly lifted his face from over him, he surveyed the area tentatively, like he wondered if it was safe to step off; he didn't want to fall down the cliff or skid off if he wasn't careful. "By the Light, I'm shaking all over," he murmured, his legs slowly slid across Wrathion's back and then down one of his sides; he touched ground with a low scrape of gravel, and felt a bit lightheaded when he proceeded to walk a bit after that.
They hadn't flown as high as the waterfall, but they'd got far enough up there was a nice view, distant sounds came from the party still ongoing somewhere below; the wind rustled gently through grasses and the boughs of trees, it did Anduin good.
Wrathion proceeded to change back to his human form, he turned to Anduin guiltily; "Hey—" he said as he slowly got one hand on his arm, "—I'm sorry."
Anduin slowly regarded him, he flushed and ran one hand absently through his hair; it was curious to see him in his human form again, catching a glimpse of his eyes got him shy.
"I'm— sorry, too," he said, though he wasn't certain what he was sorry for; "I'm not used to riding without any sort of control— for a moment I seriously thought I was gonna die—"
"That bad, huh," Wrathion asked quietly, and it occurred to Anduin then he'd effectively insulted him without meaning to.
"Oh— hey, listen, I didn't mean it like that—"
"No— no, it's all right— it's just—"
"I just— maybe it's just me, maybe I'm just not used to— you know— how we mortals are—"
"No, that's—" Wrathion turned to him honestly for a moment; "I just wouldn't say that I'm terrifying."
He spoke the word like he expected Anduin to realize how far from the truth it was, and then to appropriately correct himself.
"...oh..." Anduin said in a moment of understanding; he'd not thought of it at all, but, of course, possibly Wrathion's greatest fear was that he'd become like his father.
"Hey— come on, it wasn't like that— you really are a very majestic and stunning dragon— it was just— maybe you're not used to letting people ride you—"
Wrathion flushed on hearing that; "You..." he looked away and tried to conceal his smile with one hand— "You think I'm majestic and stunning?"
Anduin had meant to console him, and to somehow correct his mistake from before; he'd not realized that in so doing he'd transparently let on a secret sort of admiration he'd felt for some time. His pulse skipped a beat in a bout of embarrassment, his thoughts raced to find some credible explanation to neutralize what he'd said.
"Ah—" he stammered, "No! That is— what—" He laughed forcibly, like he'd been joking around all along; "What— you think— that I— that we— why would I— it's not like—"
Oh, by the Light, he thought as his face had got redder and redder, I totally just had had my arms and legs all pressed up to him like a moment ago, and like my entire body— fuck, that's so embarrassing—
They stood silently on the small cliff, both staring out unto the woods below; distantly between the trees there glittered the soft lights of wisps, secretive whispers of natural magic that were too subtle to notice at the palace, when they'd been surrounded by the arcane energies of the Well.
The gentle forest breeze swept through Anduin's hair, it felt somehow refreshing and cool, and there came inexplicably in him a knowing sense of calm; the white warmth of moonlight that streamed between branches glimmered all around him in tiny specs of stardust, they fell like immaterial snowflakes on his clothes and his hair. He became aware of a curious breath of eternal life and hope that whispered through him with countless inaudible voices, which had his senses suspended with humility and awe—
At his side, Wrathion remained silently still, the hair bristled at the back of his neck at the barely discernible but unmistakable echo of dreamlike singing, inhumanly soft, it wove like an intangible wind or spirit in the rustle of leaves—
There Anduin stood bathed in moonlight, behind him his hair and the fabric of his clothes floated in slow motion as though underwater, and he appeared momentarily distant and transfixed; as of their own accord his hands came slowly before him, where a low light grew gradually brighter until it took vaguely the shimmering outline of a large flower.
It didn't look like the blossom of the dream that Ysera had given him before, but something ethereal and otherworldly, its radiance washed Anduin over until he was nearly obscured entirely by its light; then, it began very gradually to diminish, the beams floated weightlessly away in silvery caressing ribbons, which ultimately faded out of existence and into the night air.
A short distance away, Wrathion stood speechless, the dreamlike song of the forest had dissipated out of audible range and finally Anduin's clothes and the locks of his hair settled calmly, like whatever wind had swept them through had passed.
What he had witnessed he could not deny.
Wrathion knew without asking, the offering intended to grant them recognition on part of Elune's priestesses had been accepted by the Goddess directly, and he was as much horrified by it as he was emotionally overcome with reverence.
Neither of them spoke for a long time as they stood motionless at the cliff's edge, mutually aware of what had transpired, and how no one would ever believe them if they'd tried to explain.
No words were exchanged as Wrathion's fingers wove slowly through Anduin's, he felt his grip come firm and tight, and here was the friend he'd remembered— the nights spent staying up late over drinks and board games, the reality of his injuries after the Bell and how despite them they teased and taunted each other, because it would be terribly depressing to let something like that get in the way—
—and also, here was his old friend, in whose gentle and mild demeanor there always had echoed the pulse of the Light—
"My dearest friend," Wrathion said, and for once his voice weighed with genuine empathy; it came heavy and laden with sorrow all throughout, a deep sort of compassion he'd never desired for Anduin to need.
"Never had I wished for you to know the burden of a secret you absolutely cannot tell."
They both knew— what claims Anduin might make to the Sisterhood of Elune that the Goddess, herself, had accepted him would be taken as the highest sort of blasphemy and insult— especially with Anduin being male, where males were considered among the Sisterhood inferior and incapable of true communion with Elune's heart.
They would never accept the suggestion I might be a prophet, Anduin thought, I can't even tell them this much; I must ask only that they agree to test my abilities, Ysera will be witness and judge to my performance.
However, the deep significance of what they had seen coursed through him with its incontestable truth: Anduin's insistence to come here had not been unfounded— and whether or not there was validity to Kairoz's prediction, he certainly did have some pivotal role in Wrathion's plan.
At the cliff's edge, they stood somberly united under the burden that now bound them to the same heavy fate, their fingers twined tightly while they watched the wind sweep through the moonlit valley below.
(On to Chapter 17)
- 15
- 16
- 17
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Timeless: a Wranduin Story