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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
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(A/N: If you feel a bit confused, please keep reading; all will be revealed, in time...)
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"No, this isn't how I die," Murozond had said.
In the Time-Lost Glade, he knelt over Kairoz's form, his dark hair veiled him in its rippling fall; he'd seen his own demise, and this wasn't it. Kairoz, himself, had made possible for Murozond to save him.
The infinite dragonflight existed in order to restore the bronze dragons' power, in order to stop Murozond's death.
Which could not be prevented.
But it didn't happen like this.
This wasn't where he died, but where his existence became possible.
His, being Murozond, being Nozdormu, being Kairoz.
The sweet scent of grass wafted softly nearby, in his elven form Kairoz clutched his fingers in Murozond's back, he trembled with struggle and coughed sickly into the naked skin of his shoulder; Murozond held him and spoke like he would to a whelpling.
"Shh..." he said, "There, beloved; nothing that cannot be mended by time..."
--
The bronze and black dragonflights had made a pact; several years had passed on Draenor when Kairoz met again with the Black Prince, but to Kairoz it'd only been a short while. Wrathion could scent him when he came, he'd not known another dragon's presence in years, and stiffened in his bed when he'd been roused.
He'd stayed with Admiral Taylor in the Spires of Arak and had his own quarters, he'd bribed and charmed nearly every member of the staff to his bidding.
"Finally found you, little whelp," Kairoz spoke softly, he'd stealthed inside the tavern in a way Wrathion hadn't expected, his clawed hand slid round Wrathion's back and clamped over his mouth.
"Unhand me," Wrathion seethed with stifled annoyance, their eyes glowed in the dark of the room. While, to Kairoz, very little time had passed, he could see Wrathion was a grown drake now; in his human form he was slender and tall, his straight black hair fell to his shoulders.
"Or you'll what? Call your guards?" Kairoz's voice came smooth at his auricle, his hand trailed from his mouth to his chin, and he turned Wrathion's face toward him in order to have a good look.
"It doesn't work in this timeline, Garrosh is lost to us," he whispered, and Wrathion didn't let on whatever thoughts crossed his mind; by that point, Garrosh had worked well to unify a number of powerful orcish clans, who had even begun making way toward Azeroth— but Wrathion knew better than to doubt a Timekeeper. He wanted to hear what he had to say.
There were humans in this tavern, they might overhear; from behind Wrathion, Kairoz leaned in very close, just over his shoulder, somehow draconic even in his elven form; his fangs glinted in the darkness as he mouthed the words just at Wrathion's temple.
"One Iron Horde was not enough. They were defeated too readily, before they became a real threat— and Garrosh met his demise at Thrall's hand."
He spoke in past tense, but these things hadn't happened here yet; that was, this was what would happen, what Kairoz had seen.
"Also," he whispered, "He slew me within moments of setting foot on Draenor."
For some moments, Wrathion remained entirely still, his eyes glowed an unreadable red in the black of the room; at pleasantries and deceptive cordiality he was adept, he didn't let on whatever emotions this stirred in him.
"You're telling the truth," he said, this he believed, and it vastly annoyed him his plan failed again. Garrosh slew Kairoz, but then fell at Thrall's hand? The Iron Horde was defeated too readily...?
"No, that can't be right," he said, slowly thinking aloud, "Something here... something doesn't add up."
Somehow, Kairoz was compelled to agree; Garrosh was meant to play a greater part in this, and there was some piece missing, something that would have prevented Kairoz's death, the one living creature immune to Garrosh's wrath.
"There is no such creature alive in this world," Wrathion said, "or any other. This was not the correct route."
But even as he spoke, he knew he was wrong; he had known somehow, even as a whelp, that one day—
"We leave here tonight," Kairoz said conclusively, he could feel Wrathion's rage begin to well, but turned his face toward him sharply; "You want your plan to work, don't you?" he whispered with quiet impatience, "Tonight, Murozond—"
Tonight, Nozdormu—
"But if Garrosh slew you, then how? How was the infinite dragonflight possible?"
"You mean, how were infinite timelines possible? How was an infinite number of Iron Hordes possible?"
"How are you possible? How are you still alive?"
"We'll go farther back," Kairoz mouthed, his voice now almost inaudible, "We'll make them possible. We'll seek help from the only dragonflight who still have their titan powers."
Because they'd not been invested in the dragon soul.
"A charming notion, Kairozdormu," Wrathion's laugh came low and amused, "But unless you'd forgotten, I'm the last of my kind."
"Surely you're clever enough to figure this out," Kairoz said, "We'll go farther back than that."
"Farther back?" Wrathion chuckled bitterly, "To before I had them slain? Have you forgotten why I had them slain?"
But then he understood: farther back, to before they became corrupt.
He remained silent for a long time.
"But even uncorrupt... my father..." he trailed off, the fear for once audible in his voice; his first impulse was to say that, surely, even uncorrupted, Neltharion must be immune to Garrosh's wrath— but if Garrosh slew Kairoz...
"No," Kairoz said, "there is one living creature who would not incur his wrath in the first place. "
It wasn't Neltharion.
Tonight, Murozond would take them back.
And tonight, Nozdormu would—
--
Jaina only ever knew one person who developed weapons with resistance to mind control; she wondered if she'd have shown Prince Kael'thas greater gentleness had she known he'd fancied her at the time, and if she wasn't already dating Arthas then. None of that mattered now, Kael was before the Sunreavers, and, as it were, she found herself again bickering with Sunreaver mages just outside the Caverns of Time.
Nozdormu was stood as a living barrier between her and Aethas Sunreaver, they circled him like two angry beasts and threatened each other with spells.
Prince Anduin was in trouble with Jaina, that was for sure, he'd had some balls to mind control the head of the Kirin Tor into casting a portal for him, to get to the Caverns of Time. Several years had passed since Garrosh had nearly crushed every bone in his body, he'd never fully healed; still in his early twenties, he had sharp pains in his right leg from a slipped vertebral disc.
He'd grown handsome and tall, and had mastered not only the Light, but the shadows, as well, in a way that vastly irritated Jaina, that night in particular.
He'd only used it rarely, to be fair; the Light was his true calling.
But this night he was desperate.
He'd lost her trust for sure, this much he could tell, and his heart ached for it; she'd finally caught Aethas by the collar of his robes and asked if he wanted to be taken to the Violet Hold again.
Aethas paused, visibly frightened, maybe because he was really very young—
Or maybe because he'd never wanted Jaina to be so angry with him—
"All right," he said, he didn't try to blink away from her; "all right, you can have it—"
Don't tell Lor'themar. Don't tell Rommath.
It was a bit hard to focus with her so close, and so angry, he was genuinely frightened while thinking back to the time she'd got him imprisoned—
When he only ever wanted her affection.
There was uncanny elegance in the way he wove the spell into manifestation, a shimmering staff materialized in a flash of crystalline lights, and Jaina's eyes narrowed with suspicion that he'd just hand it over.
"The Staff of Disintegration," she said, but didn't reach to take it; her attention diverted momentarily to Anduin, but she never moved her gaze from Aethas. "You're in a lot of trouble, mister," she said to Anduin, "Once your father hears what you did—"
"Aunt Jaina, please—" Anduin asked, now in his early twenties but still a little boy inside; the words had Aethas waver, he glanced him momentarily and then turned his gaze back to her. Aunt sounded so strange.
"No please," Jaina replied, "Do you realize what you might have done? You can't just—" She waved one hand in the air for emphasis, "—make use of a licensed mage's powers—"
"If you will, Lady Proudmoore," Nozdormu finally spoke, like they'd all forgotten he was there at all; he sounded almost apologetic. "Prince Anduin's presence is of dire importance."
Finally, Jaina paused.
"...I beg your pardon...?" She asked, not having expected to hear it from Nozdormu, himself; she'd thought he'd certainly prevent and bar Anduin from the Caverns of Time, up till then she'd been glad he was there as a potential voice of reason.
"His presence is of crucial importance? Where?"
"You mean, when," Nozdormu corrected, and immediately she understood here was something intended discreetly, because Varian would never permit his son to go, because it was very dangerous— but Nozdormu still insisted.
"When?" she repeated, "What do you mean, when? How can a time portal be opened?" The bronze aspect had lost his power to do so long ago, after all. She regarded him suspiciously, there was something like guilt in Nozdormu's eyes. Anduin's gaze went from Aethas to Nozdormu and back, somehow, he felt compassion for Aethas—
But if Aethas had handed Jaina the staff, she would overcome what mind control Anduin had left on her, and she'd take him back to Stormwind.
"Please," he asked him, "Something bad will happen if I don't go— though I don't know what—"
Even Aethas felt it; he should be permitted.
"You'll make the right choice, either way," he softly said to Jaina, he pressed the staff in her hand and closed his fingers on hers.
His magic, it was familiar— not like back in the Violet Hold, but—
"How is it that you have this staff?" she asked—
But she already knew.
There was something in the back of her mind, but there was no time for that now— she stepped toward Anduin and summoned a spell to stop him in place. "You will talk this over with your father," she said, but there was compassion in her voice; "and he will decide what to make of this."
"Lady Proudmoore," Nozdormu spoke with quiet severity, "King Varian will forbid it, you know this; it is too dangerous a matter to leave to chance."
"I can't send him off on a mission like this," Jaina said, and it wasn't only because of her duty to the king; she cared for Anduin like he were her own flesh and blood.
"If I may, Lady Proudmoore," Aethas' voice came soft and calm, and several sets of eyes turned toward him, like no one remembered he'd been there at all; "Perhaps the young prince— could use accompaniment."
Already Jaina's expression contorted in preparation to chastise him for such a foolish idea, but the words never came; it occurred to her the plan wasn't entirely without merit.
"I can't abandon the Kirin Tor," she said softly, "I can't abandon the Alliance—"
But Anduin would go, either way.
That night, Murozond would take Wrathion and Kairoz very far back in time, to the Obsidian Dragonshrine of long ago;
And Nozdormu would take Anduin, accompanied by Jaina and another young prince, who wasn't certain if he was terrified, or still enamored by her as he'd been years ago.

(On to Chapter 3)
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A/N: I'm still looking for someone interested in RPing Wranduin, Illidan/Kael, Varian/Arthas, or many other m/m pairs from Warcraft (if this is on here then I'm still looking, hehe!) So, if anyone out there is up for it, please let me know ^^ (Contact info on my profile). I don't mind if you don't know that much lore, if you're new to Warcraft or to RPing, if you're a little shy, or if English isn't your first language; I just like writing with someone else who's passionate about the same stuff =)
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Timeless: a Wranduin Story