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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
- 16
- 17
- 18
For a long time, Wrathion and Anduin sat at the edge of the cliff in silence; they hadn't released the hold they had on each other's hand, because then they'd need a new excuse to do it again. It was exhilarating and curious, an unspoken confirmation of what they both were too shy to say— but under the weight of all they'd just recently witnessed, there was tremendous consolation in the knowledge they were in it together.
Anduin's free hand picked absently at blades of grass, he watched the twinkling lights still brightly flashing down at Azshara's palace;
"Thanks, by the way," he said, "for bringing me up here."
It was the first thing either of them said in a while, Wrathion was taken a little off guard to hear it; he turned to regard him slowly from where his head rested on the bend of his knee. "I thought you hated me for that," he said, "you freaked out so badly..."
"Yeah," Anduin replied, he shyly turned to glance at him; "I was really scared, but— now I'm glad— that you offered, because—"
Because he felt this place was somehow blessed, and maybe they were meant to come here; it occurred to him the Goddess could have chosen to visit him alone, and maybe she chose to make her presence known to Wrathion, as well.
What it meant, he had no idea.
Wrathion watched him for some time without saying a word; in the pale moonlight, he thought the subtle glow from before still lingered on Anduin's figure, and for the first time he wondered if his role might really be necessary to save Azeroth.
His fingers tightened in their joined hands while he looked out on the valley; "These past years," he said, "I really missed you."
It was almost too subtle to hear, but at his side there came a very soft gasp at these words; Anduin looked rapidly away, he sniffled and swiped boyishly at his eyes, his voice wavered despite audible attempts at composure.
"I missed you so bad," he said, at last laying his heart bare; "You just left— you just left me—"
Although he now understood Wrathion's reasons, he'd spent so many years hurt and confused, until eventually bitterness had given way to despair, and he'd been willing to forgive any injustice if only he could see his old friend again; Wrathion stilled at the intimate confession, he'd not expected to hear such vulnerably candid things.
"Hey—" he said, uncertain how to handle Anduin when there were no insults or taunts; "hey, come on—"
Anduin still had his head turned away, he was stupidly rubbing at his eyes and Wrathion got one hand on his shoulder; "Come on," he said, there were to his voice undertones of adulthood that were foreign even to him; he tried to prompt him to turn, aware Anduin deliberately wouldn't look at him because he was embarrassed about crying;
"Are you crying?" he asked.
"No," Anduin cried, still turned away;
"You are crying," Wrathion's voice came uncannily soft; Anduin stiffened when his arms came around him, one round his back and one hand reaching to turn his face to his.
"You're crying, like a little baby," Wrathion said, but he was gentler than he'd ever heard him; Wrathion leaned forth and carefully kissed each of Anduin's eyes, then the places on his face that had got damp, and finally his mouth—
Anduin wasn't certain, but he could've sworn that just before he'd kissed him, he'd heard him whisper,
I'm sorry.
They fell on the sandy earth in a struggling tangle of limbs, where they gripped and grabbed at each other's clothes with impatient desperation, and it was like nothing Anduin had felt; he now knew, he was painfully, wretchedly in love, it was a devastating anguish he'd never suffered before—
He wondered how he would ever endure this ceaseless torment of his soul.
--
Even out in the palace gardens, the seating and catering service were impeccably elegant; it took Kael'thas back to more innocent times, his sheltered upbringing at the Spire and how blissfully unaware he had been of the dark days to come. He'd been thrilled by the opportunity to study away at Dalaran, away from his father's scrutiny and the rigid discipline with which he'd been raised; when earlier that night he'd said to Anduin, You've really never lived, he'd been thinking of his own past.
Anasterian had never completely approved of Kael's studies away from home, and amidst the humans, at that— as while necessity had the Thalassian monarch consent to an alliance with the humans of Arathor, he'd never felt at ease to permit his kingdom out of its long-standing seclusion. It was Anasterian, though, who'd permitted for the first time that high elven magic be taught to the humans, and in accordance the city of Dalaran had come to be.
But, even so, he'd never felt exactly right about sending Kael'thas there; he had wondered if his son was aware that one day he'd have to take the throne as ruler of Quel'thalas.
It may have been something of which Kael was aware at the back of his mind, but he certainly hadn't expected it to come so soon; now long past the aftermath of all that had changed, he found curiously that he missed the sheltered upbringing he'd once been so desperate to escape.
He sat back beside Jaina, his fingers slid along the glimmering cutlery placed at their table with quiet contentment; the seating was cleverly arranged as to give an unhindered view of the contest ongoing in the gardens nearby, and this, in itself, was the best sort of entertainment: Kael'thas and even Jaina both felt a sort of reverence for Azshara's cunning, where she somehow successfully arranged for the Stormrage twins to duel one another in only their shorts.
"I say it was worth going back ten thousand years just to see this," Kael remarked, and, despite herself, Jaina was compelled to agree; it appeared the brothers were evenly matched, they had long since stopped using their powers and were on to the more relatable and familiar, ruthless sort of wrestling that only ever took place between siblings.
For some time, Malfurion appeared to be winning, he had Illidan immobilized beneath him while straddled over his hips, his long hair draped disheveled on his face and back; Kael'thas appeared quite concerned as he strained to observe, Jaina watched him root quietly for Master under his breath.
While he'd found Illidan just as handsome like this, Kael had liked his demonic form in particular; he'd always had a taste for the exotic and unique, which was why he'd fancied Jaina, as well: after his life within the reclusive constraints of Quel'thalas, he'd been curious to meet these humans his father had found so distasteful.
After the fact, his advisors never quite understood the prince's exotic human fetish, but Kael had a taste for demons, as well— and Kil'jaeden had just been so...
...big...
Beneath Malfurion, Illidan made an admirable try to buck his brother off, and he almost had him, too, but managed only to throw him a little off balance in the end; Malfurion slammed him back down breathlessly, and after that they'd got in a struggling heap, until Illidan got one of his legs around him and managed to roll himself on top.
"You were not prepared for that, were you, brother?" he asked triumphantly, and Malfurion laughed in response.
Some distance away, Azshara sighed pleasantly into her drink, she was certain this was one of the best ideas she'd ever had for entertainment; "But there needs to be some hot oil, wouldn't you say?" she asked Vashj, who felt quite compelled to agree.
"I don't even care who wins," Vashj replied, and Azshara smiled, "Yeah, I know..."
"Really? I thought for sure you'd be cheering for Illidan."
"I know right, that's what I thought— but didn't he look so good when he was all— straining beneath him like that—"
When finally the match had concluded and neither had won, Kael turned to Jaina and asked if she wanted another drink; he said he wanted to get one for himself, and her first reaction was suspicion, because after his assorted adventures that night she was almost certain he had some other plan in mind.
"What are you really gonna do?" She asked, and Kael chuckled tenderly; he winked and replied, "You don't think I'm just gonna go get a drink, do you?"
"No, I don't."
"What do you think I'm gonna go do?"
Jaina thought for some moments; "I think you're gonna go... I don't know... get in the middle between Illidan and Malfurion somehow... or something like that..."
He laughed at that fully, and his eyes glittered with affection; "You really do know me after all," he said, "And that doesn't sound like a half-bad idea."
She was now trying hard not to smile; "I didn't mean it as some kind of suggestion...!"
"Not jealous now, are you?" he asked, "You know, you could still have all this if you wanted." He indicated himself the way he had last time he'd offered.
"Oh, just go get your drink already."
Kael'thas made his way through the crowd toward the immaculate refreshment table, where crystalline goblets were arranged geometrically around a number of decorated fountains; he'd been just about to reach for a glass when there came a sensation around him he couldn't quite place, and someone's forearm came stealthily round his abdomen. He felt the hair at the back of his neck stand on end, not entirely unpleasantly, when just at his ear there issued words in a sort of seductive whisper he now recognized.
"I thought I warned you," Malygos said, "I didn't want you near the Well of Eternity."
Kael stilled with one hand just over the untouched goblet; despite himself, he could feel he was melting into the touch.
He said nothing, but soon Malygos took him by the hand like they had been intimate lovers, and cleverly slipped into the shadowy garden nearby.
(On to Chapter 18)
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Timeless: a Wranduin Story