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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
- 17
- 18
- 19
At the sandy earth of the plateau, Anduin had Wrathion on his back; he had his trousers down around his thighs, and made good on his promise to do it to him till he'd finished him off. He didn't complain that time about having to do it, or that it was tedious, or that he wanted to switch; that time, he actually felt like he wanted to.
He didn't care how profane they were, because that time, no one could walk in; there was no one within hearing range, and they didn't need to think up possible excuses for a worst-case scenario where they'd be caught.
But, either way, Anduin didn't care— the last time they'd done this, Wrathion had got him to feel so utterly wretched when he'd emerged from it bitter and annoyed, he'd acted almost like nothing intimate had happened between them; he'd been a jerk after the fact, and had made Anduin wonder what he'd done wrong— and though it had made Anduin angry inside, he was utterly powerless, because he couldn't help his feelings despite everything.
You don't really get to choose whether or not you're in love, and it's a terrible thing when you fall in love with someone insensitive.
But this time, he thought, he'd show him; he'd make it so good Wrathion would have to admit it was worthwhile, he wouldn't want to be a jerk again—
Yeah, right.
Somewhere inside, Anduin knew that Wrathion just was a jerk, like it was some intrinsic black dragon thing; but by then, logic had little to do with it. He was too far gone in his heart, and was aware he was kidding himself if he thought he could merely walk away if he'd been hurt enough.
But, regardless, he found that he wanted to do this, he had one hand tight on Wrathion's wrist and the other at the base of his cock, still gloved, and had at him with hunger he no longer tried to conceal; he sucked on him loudly, profanely, until Wrathion was struggling beneath him and fucking his mouth without shame.
In the candor of ardent abandon, Wrathion asked, "You don't mind? You're not bothered— that I'm a dragon, and you're—"
"No," Anduin said breathlessly;
"And after everything— all the other black dragons you knew—"
"No."
"And—"
Anduin emerged from between his thighs, he gasped for breath as he swiped at his mouth gracelessly; "And after what you did, the trial— yes, Wrathion, it hasn't escaped me that you're an imposing and awe-inspiring black dragon in the truest sense of the term— that you're a cunning and devious, crafty, two-faced bastard— was that what you were going to ask? That even knowing all that, I still—"
Wrathion regarded him speechlessly in the unearthly glow of starlight; his dark hair batted round his face in slow motion, and there was something childlike about him that could almost pass for humility—
He propped himself up and reached toward Anduin, then dabbed at the slick side of his mouth, his lips and his chin— inhumanly delicate, he moved with a regal sort of air that echoed with millennia of ancient dragons before him—
His hand caressed Anduin's cheek with fragile softness that had him almost confused, he kissed him with tenderness of which Anduin never imagined him capable—
"Foolish, hopeless little mortal," he whispered, his eyelashes flickered innocently on Anduin's skin; "Haven't I told you, your gentleness will be your undoing—"
—but he may well have said,
Even knowing all that, I still love you, too—
--
Malygos recognized Kael'thas even without having seen his true form before; dragons could smell you out, but this one also sensed his magic— and although Kael was aware he was in trouble, it didn't really feel that way. The other day when Kairoz and Murozond had grabbed him, he'd been fully alert, he had a number of weapons at the ready— but this was something entirely different.
Seduction was the most poisonous sort of attack— Malygos was somehow hypnotic, his magic was vivid and pure, and Kael gave into him readily; there was never any hope for his arcane addiction now that he was faced with something like this outright.
For a brief moment, he wondered if Kalecgos was like this, too, he thought he ought to ask Jaina— I'll ask her after this, he thought, when it occurred to him that after this may never come.
Curiously, he felt somehow at ease about that.
But no, he remembered, there were things I still had to do— important things—
He could feel the wet warmth of Malygos' breath at his neck, his very existence pulsed with arcane energies more deep and rich than any he'd known; he clung feverishly, ravenously, when there came something that wasn't right.
Malygos had done it so subtly Kael might not have noticed at all, but almost too late he'd become aware his last verdant sphere was being drawn from him.
He had found that resistance at this point became excruciating, like trying to shout in a dream; any attempt at alarm came just barely a breath or a whisper. Kael'thas had never been one to go down without a fight, but he now felt somehow paralyzed; it occurred to him he would watch helplessly while Malygos extracted his last sphere, something that should not have been possible in the first place.
But I can't, he thought, I still have so much to do— I still love—
He'd just nearly succumbed to this sweetest sort of venom when, somewhere beyond the abyss of unawareness, there glimmered distantly a blinding flash of light; it crashed soundlessly but with tremendous impact, and as vision returned to him slowly, he saw with vague confusion what seemed like the aftermath of some arcane struggle.
There stood a tall figure between him and Malygos, a silhouetted form which appeared like a shadow before the bright light; in the last of the conflict, his dark hair batted wildly, and all around him was encompassing power so achingly familiar Kael almost reached to hold it—
—he felt it bleed viscerally through him, electric with life and charge—
Sound issued as though muffled underwater, but Kael hazily caught the tail end of an exchange; he heard Illidan tell the blue aspect,
"This little mage has done no wrong."
Soft, ethereal hands, the innocence of mercy— was this absolution?
In the desolate void, something inside Kael'thas burst, a virginal chastity he'd long since lost hope to deserve— there was a burden he'd carried so long he'd forgot what it was to walk without it.
He was too far overcome for words; in the stupor of after-effect, he heard vaguely the words of formal propriety as Illidan spoke to Malygos, all cunning and polite decorum, Kael remembered how Illidan spoke to Kil'jaeden this way—
From somewhere off came other voices, he heard Jaina, she had some spell cast to his benefit and was asking him not to move; and there, from just a short distance, was Lady Vashj— Kael brightened to see her, but she wasn't looking at him. She was conversing directly with the queen, who, Kael had now noticed, was stood closer than he'd ever been to her, he could feel her encompassing arcane magic, she had power like no mortal person he'd known before—
—but they weren't mortal back then, were they— the night elves—
He saw obscurely that Azshara's hand brushed just a bit along Illidan's back, and while it was a very subtle gesture, there was something about it—
—it left him curious and confused, and he wasn't exactly certain why.
After that she was speaking with Malygos, and though Kael'thas couldn't really hear, he could tell there was an argument; Azshara was trying to figure out why Malygos attacked Kael.
At his side, Jaina continued steadily with whatever spell she had cast, she was irritably muttering about how she'd been a fool to think she could leave him alone for even a moment— he reached absently to feel the place where the spell was directed, and she slapped his hand away.
He'd not felt so loved in years.
"You're a terrible babysitter," he smiled, and Jaina told him to shut the hell up.
He'd only then seen that the queen was looking directly at him; "Vashj," Azshara said, "would you look at that— those two look like dragons, but they aren't— and it's not some disguise—"
He felt overwhelmed by her presence and the intensity of her magic, he could see now from up close the painstaking perfection with which her garbs had been crafted; she approached with impeccable grace, but appeared terribly suspicious.
"His power is familiar," she said, "I'm certain I've felt it before—"
"Dath'remar," Vashj chimed in, and now Azshara smiled brightly; she turned to her handmaiden with certainty and said, "Yes..! That's it, you're always so good at this—"
But then the queen turned back toward Kael, her smile wavered a little, like there still was something about this that had her discontent; "But— you know— there's something else, too— something I know really, really well— it's just so familiar—" Her brow furrowed and she appeared deep in thought, until slowly she brought both hands over her mouth in a moment of clarity, and Kael'thas could swear he'd seen her flush.
This creature, who looked like a dragon but wasn't, had both Dath'remar's and Illidan's magic; she was now certain of this.
"Oh— oh, crap," she whispered to Vashj, "how loud was I just now when I said all that stuff— about his magic being really familiar, and how I know it so well?"
She asked this because Illidan was like right there, and if he'd heard that bit, he may know how intently she'd been watching his magic— like some freakish stalker.
She leaned close to Kael'thas and spoke directly to him now, like she could tell he still wasn't entirely cognizant, but felt her questions couldn't wait; "How do you have Illidan's magic?" she whispered, clearly not wishing for Illidan to hear.
Kael still felt a bit too weak to move much, and his thoughts were still clouded— but the question registered clearly enough, and it was unexpectedly pleasant to hear. From this close up, he could see the elaborate detail of the markings drawn upon her face, Lady Vashj's familiar handiwork, he felt very curiously like he'd somehow come home.
"It was Illidan's magic which saved me," he said, "Now it's been twice."
--
"We're here with Ysera," Jaina explained to Lady Vashj, her accent in draconic made it clear enough she really wasn't a dragon; "she has come to arrange a meeting with the Sisterhood of Elune— hey, what are those guys doing...?"
A number of Azshara's servants had now gathered around Kael, and had begun to cast some spell which Jaina was quick to shoo off; "Oh—" Azshara said to Jaina, "I'd like to have your friend treated, he's unwell, as you can see—"
Jaina turned to Kael and knelt at his side; "Kael'thas," she said, "please tell the queen you're fine, we'll have Anduin look at your injury— your Highness, there's no need—"
She wondered why she worried for him this way; did she merely not want him involved directly with the palace...?
But even with his injury, Kael'thas was enough cognizant to appreciate the attention on her part; "Are you gonna take care of me, Doctor Proudmoore?" he grinned, "I think I'm feeling better already."
"Is this somehow funny to you?" Jaina asked, "That's not a light injury."
He could've kissed her stupid just then.
"I take responsibility for this," Azshara said, "since the fight was provoked here at the palace grounds— Vashj, would you mind calling for Dath'remar—"
Could it be— had the queen just now blushed a little when she asked...?
After that, Jaina leaned close toward Kael'thas and whispered, "I don't want you going with them, I don't trust her."
"Jaina," Kael replied affectionately, "I trust them, it's Lady Vashj..."
"You don't know Lady Vashj of ten thousand years ago," Jaina whispered back, "And she doesn't know you."
Out the corner of his eye, he saw that Illidan had begun to walk off with some of the others, and Azshara rapidly tapped him on the shoulder; after that, she recoiled momentarily, and it was very curious to watch, because the gesture appeared almost timid. "I'll— need your presence," she stammered, then cleared her throat and fought hard for an air of omnipotence; "Because— we—"
"Yes!" Kael'thas chimed in, "That's a good idea—" He then flushed at what he'd actually said aloud; for a brief moment, he and Azshara exchanged very curious glances, but then both turned to gaze at Illidan again.
Azshara cleared her throat; "Yes," she said, "There, it's decided, proceed."
"Kael'thas, what are you doing?" Jaina whispered, "You don't know what she's going to do, it's too dangerous—"
Kael's eyes glittered with warmth, his hand closed slowly in hers; "My dear Jaina," he said softly, "Since when have you started to care for me like this...?"
"Since when have you become so irresponsible?!"
"Don't leave my side," he whispered, "I need you."
"First you ask to be taken by these people you don't even know, then you say you need me to be there?!"
"Sounds about right."
"Light damn it, Kael'thas..."
She could see exactly what this was about: Kael was excited to see Illidan and Vashj, he probably imagined they still were some super trio like they'd been in their own timeline— and now he was going to go with them willingly— as though Azshara wasn't historically notorious for her immeasurable power and unique talent for enslaving handsome men with her spells.
But for someone who could spell any man she wished to do her bidding, she appeared curiously timid about speaking with Illidan— almost like she had feelings of her own, and fears and doubts— and wasn't the stereotypical female object of seduction and attraction you read about in stories.
(On to Chapter 19)
- 17
- 18
- 19
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Timeless: a Wranduin Story