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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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It was frustrating, being unable to see clearly through time; Nozdormu felt it, too, he would have liked to know how this will turn out, and what purpose Anduin would have which was so distressingly dire— but any attempts on his part at elucidating the future fell useless, he had only a feeling, at best.
He stood beside Jaina and Aethas while watching from some distance away, concealed by a spell, while Wrathion spoke with his father; it was vastly unnerving. Two of them hadn't known Neltharion as anything but utter horror, and Nozdormu worried for other reasons entirely: Wrathion's motive might have been altruistic, but Kairoz must have something up his sleeve if he'd helped bring him here.
"I can't watch this," Jaina finally said, "Anduin doesn't need to be out in the open like this, I don't trust those two." By those two, she meant Wrathion and Neltharion, and she had good reason to feel this way— Varian and his son had a history of torment at the hands of black dragons, after all.
She tried to get Anduin's attention from where she was stood, by means of a subtle spell— and if he noticed, he made no indication of it. He was utterly transfixed, with something like desperation or distress in his eyes, and Jaina sighed because she knew he'd never really got over his once-friend's betrayal.
He's gonna want to ask him why, she thought, and have him explain— and in the meantime, those dragons would devour him.
Anduin did, in fact, take notice of her signal, but he ignored it, for exactly the reason she'd expected; he remained where he was, prepared to defend himself in the event of attack but unable to move away. He waited for the moment he'd get to talk with Wrathion finally, it occurred to him then how desperately he'd wanted to do so for several years; Jaina wondered if his motive to come here was based entirely in selfless altruism, and if there wasn't just a tiny bit of it that was the irresistible impulse to see his old friend again.
He did grow to be handsome, she thought, Wrathion, that was; she knew Anduin must think so now that he regarded him this way, likely waiting for him to finally take notice...
In truth, Wrathion had noticed long before; he could smell him out, and would have been able to notice the others had they not been magically concealed.
"Have you come to stop me, Anduin Wrynn?"
He asked without turning around, and now Jaina began whisper-calling to him in frustration, aware he couldn't hear from beyond the barrier.
Anduin shivered to hear his name spoken directly; he'd not realized Wrathion knew he was there. It occurred to him that he, himself, wasn't certain if he'd come there to stop him, though he'd guessed that was a likely objective to the plan; either way, there was a time he'd been filled with resentment about being betrayed, but over the years this gave way to despair. The sort of sulking that remained in him after Wrathion tricked him and vanished had become a knowing familiar, and the bitterness he'd long-since let go was now renewed at the words, have you come to stop me.
His first words to Anduin in so many years. His voice was so... grown up now.
In his moment of hurt, he'd almost forgot the distress that overtook him at hearing the far more important bit about the world coming to an end.
His courage gathered quickly and his eyes came fixed on his old friend, who still hadn't turned around. "Was it true, what you said?" he asked, his voice trembled just a little, and he fought to hold this back; "Was it true, about the world being destroyed?"
"Father," Wrathion said to Neltharion, "I apologize for this interruption."
At this, Anduin grit his teeth; now finally the Black Prince turned to face him, he paced forth with ease and slid one hand diplomatically round his back. Anduin stiffened at the touch straight away, because it was so bloody casual.
Wrathion led him amicably toward where he'd been stood before, as though years hadn't passed since they'd last spoken, like he'd never done anything dishonest; he introduced him to Neltharion like he'd had no qualms about being spied on, like he'd been expecting him somehow.
For some reason, this made Anduin angrier than all the stuff before.
But he couldn't very well act on those feelings, he'd been bred and raised as a proper prince, and in the end he introduced himself properly even despite being terrified; old memories of childhood returned, he thought of Onyxia...
Jaina was now clearly at the ready. She stood like a beast of prey, all senses focused on Neltharion, in case he'd try anything... she could envision Varian now, Where is my son...? If this was some plan orchestrated by the Sunreavers, she hoped at least there was someone who could explain to the king about this, even if it were the enemy.
Someone who could explain she didn't just abandon the Kirin Tor. And she had all this work to do, too, there was a meeting early next morning... or did next morning have any meaning now? If they'd gone back in time, could they conceivably be back only moments after they'd left, and the king would never need to worry about his son's absence...?
From where they were stood, her party couldn't hear the exchange between Anduin and the black dragons, all three of them strained, Neltharion seemed to be leading them away now...
"Follow them," Jaina whispered, still in low tones even though there was no need, and finally Nozdormu spoke up. "He's not going to hurt the prince, if that's what you're worried about. This isn't the Neltharion you knew."
In fact, he thought, back then we were friends.
He saw Anduin glance over his shoulder as in matter of habit, as though he could see their invisible group; Wrathion noticed this, too. His eyes narrowed and he briefly paused in place.
"Father," he said, "I believe my friend hasn't come here alone."
Now Anduin's jaw came clenched, he cursed himself inwardly for his blunder; he ought to have known the others would likely follow, in order to protect him.
Nozdormu finally stepped out of the barrier, he stood in plain view where Neltharion could see, and actually hailed to him; Wrathion actually smiled, he laughed and patted Anduin's back, his fangs glinted dangerously through his grin. "Nozdormu, himself," he said, "of course, well played, my friend."
My friend.
It sounded like something familiar and old, and both he and Anduin stilled at that; they'd forgot altogether about the others present.
For a very brief moment, Anduin thought the hand on his back felt kind.
--
"There's something else I want from this time," Kairoz said to Murozond. They were roosted not terribly far from Neltharion's lair, in their true forms; they huddled together against the cold, with Kairoz's head lain on Murozond's side. They knew Nozdormu would want to stop them, but he would be utterly powerless, he couldn't see any better into the future than they could.
"The Well of Eternity," Murozond said, "Beloved, I know what you want." Back this many years ago, it still was intact; they knew well by that point what its waters could do.
--
Wrathion hadn't expected his father's lair to be something he'd find impressive; it was far more breathtaking than the Obsidian Dragonshrine of his time. The cavern was large and overwhelming in its majesty, enchanted, the ceiling and walls sloped in mysterious ridges and curves over glimmering minerals and mirror-like streams; here and there shrubs glowed curiously in fluorescent colors, purple and blue and gold, the top of the cave was so high he couldn't quite make out how far up it reached.
There were other black dragons about, large ones and also some drakes, and some very small whelps, Neltharion was sat in his human form across from Nozdormu, with a small, nagging whelp in his lap.
Anduin watched this for some time, there was something oddly familiar about it; it somehow made his heartache worse. He glared speechlessly at his counterpart, who was sat across from him with what seemed like contentment.
Between them a small fire burned, upon which they roasted small pieces of meat on twigs, Anduin's long fingers felt along the branch he had for his slice; he glared at Wrathion some moments without speaking. "You're not going to say anything," his voice finally came, in dangerously quiet tones; "About— about how you just ran away, how— you've done all this—"
Why was he on about that? Wasn't he going to ask about the far more important matter of the world nearing its end?
Whatever emotion Wrathion had in him, he didn't let on; he regarded Anduin with something like amusement, and it was vastly annoying. "You don't honestly think I'm going to tell you about that," he replied, like surely Anduin would see reason.
Somehow, Anduin felt himself again a sulking child; at the tip of his tongue were the words, I thought we were friends.
No, of course we're not, if this was how he'd treated me.
"And what about what you said after that? About how, oh, the world is going to be destroyed?"
Somehow, it seemed very briefly that Wrathion's expression faltered; he regained his composure soon after that and even tried to smile, but there was rage in him Anduin knew, which he noticed, no matter how subtle— even now that years had passed.
"You don't honestly expect me to tell you about that," the answer finally came.
Anduin's hand smacked his own chest with enough impact that some of the drakes turned to look; "It's my world, too, you know!" He'd become self-conscious after that, aware of the show he'd made. He lowered his voice and glared forth angrily, "If something serious is going to happen, I deserve to know."
Looking at his old friend directly was still difficult; he'd grown and had changed, but was still so familiar, his heart hurt with the awareness he'd really betrayed him— because, just meeting his eyes, he'd appeared as though nothing had changed.
"You deserve to know?" Wrathion repeated, with almost a cruel sort of laugh, "So you'll what? Run to your father? We both saw how well he handled himself last time—"
"I won't run to my father!" Anduin seethed, he flung one arm sideward to emphasize the point, "He doesn't even—" He stopped himself before the rest of the words came; he doesn't even know I'm here right now. And he'd probably have me locked in the tower if he knew I was thinking to go in the first place.
After that, between them there was silence.
Gradually, Anduin composed himself, he stared petulantly at the flames, where his slice of meat appeared dark against the incandescent fire; he could feel Wrathion's glowing red eyes, and it was terribly frustrating, not knowing what was really going through his head.
Some distance away, Jaina was sat beside Aethas, she watched the two princes almost guiltily, like it were the least she could do after letting Anduin go; she could have stopped him, she knew. She let him travel here with conscious awareness, and felt like she'd betrayed Varian in this. Was it the right choice? Leading him here, straight to the heart of the black dragons' den, not only after the Wrynns' traumatic history, but Wrathion's personal betrayal?
Beside her, Aethas was almost unusually quiet; she could feel his gaze on her, how he watched her watch Anduin— and what loathing she had for him became confused with what she knew now. She remembered back when his eyes were still blue.
There was a time he had thought he could have stayed in the Kirin Tor forever, he'd had little interest in matters of state, and even the prospect of taking the throne appeared so far in the distant future it wasn't really real; after it was all over, he'd returned to Dalaran and the Council of Six, the last place he still could call home.
He wasn't sure what to make of it when he'd been expelled by Jaina, personally.
Maybe she'd turn around and slay him there and then, at a point so far removed in time no one would be the wiser; either way, he knew better than to offer further commentary. About agreeing to come here. About the way she watched Anduin and Wrathion like a lioness, it was terribly tempting to try consolation, some trite thought like he'll be fine— but she'd probably take it as something very daft. And even though technically she was of far lesser age, in the life of a human she was now farther ahead than he was in the life of an elf.
It made him feel sheepish, like he was just a stupid kid.
He said nothing, and merely remained at her side, one hand idly drawing patterns in the sand while they watched the two princes in the conversation they couldn't hear.
--
That night, Anduin lay to sleep at Wrathion's side, because he'd been introduced to Neltharion as his son's friend; he'd been glaring with silent anger at the back of his head for a while when there came quiet motion in the sheets. It was subtle at first, then a bit more insistent, and finally Anduin turned to see a small whelp attempting to burrow under his blanket.
I'm not in the mood for games, he thought, and he was reminded so vividly of how Wrathion had been when he was this small, that he almost expected the whelp to speak to him in his friend's voice.
"That isn't cute," he whispered, aware it was likely intelligent enough to understand, even if it were a language it hadn't heard before.
"Letting another whelp in your bed, Anduin Wrynn?" Wrathion's voice came from the sheets nearby, and Anduin stilled; his thoughts raced rapidly to remember if he'd said anything terribly embarrassing. But Wrathion flushed hotly soon as he'd said the words, because they came with implication he'd never intended.
They remained both frozen in place, utterly mortified, and, worst of all, the whelp had meanwhile made itself quite comfortably at home beneath the sheets; Anduin could feel it burrow against the back of his legs, he was somehow powerless to do anything about it.
Very slowly, he lay back in his arrangement of blankets, painfully aware that he had, in fact, allowed a little whelp into his bed; he said nothing for a long time, still staring at Wrathion's hair.
"This isn't a bed, really," he finally said, "it's just— some sheets..."
(On to Chapter 4)
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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