Chapter Text
Anduin came around the desk, offering a hand to Baine Bloodhoof. The Tauren took it, and Anduin watched his entire palm get swallowed up in the handshake, and smiled. “Thank you, Baine, for agreeing to let Master Shaw and Captain Fairwind into Horde territory. I promise they’ll be on their best behavior. My spymaster would refuse to be anything other than proper, and he’ll keep Captain Fairwind in line.”
Baine’s eyes sparkled as they shook. “I would much like to meet this Captain Fairwind, I suspect he is quite an interesting man. I have heard many tales. Is it true he was one ensorcelled by a siren?”
“I have been told, yes, that was the case. And if memory serves, it might not have been the first time.” Anduin sighed, but was smiling. “Captain Fairwind is a character, and I think you would like him very much. It’s a pity he’s at sea and won’t be back for several days. If it was as simple as an overnight, I’d have your old chambers prepared, and you could meet him.”
Baine stood, stretching. “I cannot be away from my people that long. The council convenes tomorrow, and my presence is required. Ever since Sylvanas showed her hand, we have been at odds. We are unifying, but slowly. And there is Mayla.”
“Mayla Highmountain will be attending?” Anduin tried for casual, but failed.
“Yes. She has been for some time, as a representative of the Highmountain Tauren. I enjoy our after-meeting conversations.”
“And her antlers?”
If Tauren could blush, Baine would be. He instead looked away, a faint smile on his wide face. “She does have the most perfect antlers, although if you repeat that, I will deny it.”
“I would never dream of embarrassing you so, my friend. “Anduin reached up, clapping him on the shoulder. They began walking towards the door. “She seems like a quality person, and while I’m no judge of antlers, I can say she’s a formidable force, and a capable leader.”
“She is, indeed. We are fortunate to have her on the Horde Council.”
They walked down the Stormwind Keep corridors in companionable silence. Anduin had to lengthen his stride and walk faster to keep up with Baine, but he didn’t mind. He did wish the Tauren could stay longer, as their meetings had become less frequent as they both acquired more duties. He missed his friend.
They came to the room being used as a portal location for his friend’s visit. Inside, two Horde mages, a Forsaken and a Blood Elf sat in a corner, playing Hearthstone. Bored Stormwind guards idly watched the pair from the door, leaning against the walls.
“Thank you for coming, and for the writ, Baine. I’ll sleep easier knowing they’ll be somewhat protected while on the trip. I can’t fix everything, but this will help.”
“Of course, Anduin, it was my pleasure. After all we’ve been through, allowing them access was the least I could get the Horde Council to do. Please give Master Shaw my regards.”
Anduin watched the mages conjure the portal back to Orgrimmar, waiting until they, and Baine, had passed through and the shimmering surface vanished before turning to go back to his study. As he walked, he saw many castle servants, pages, and a handful of nobles, all going about their business. He politely nodded at each, but his mind was on Baine and Mayla. He knew his friend had a crush on the Highmountain Chieftain, and had for some time, but so far hadn’t acted on it. From what little Anduin could tell, the interest was mutual, but Mayla too, was shy. It was a shame, they were such a good fit for each other.
He reached his study, sitting back down at the sturdy oak desk, and picked up the writ that Baine had provided. It granted Mathias Shaw and Flynn Fairwind access to Horde territory as Ambassadors for the upcoming inventory of artifacts and objects of import in the Eastern Kingdoms. Thanks to the armistice, the agreement had been easy to come by, and he would provide it to Master Shaw and his lover in a few days.
The spymaster and the former pirate, now turned respectable captain. He’d known the spy all his life, and never once had Anduin considered that there was a heart under that leather armor. Cold blood, and no mercy, perhaps, but not a heart. Until Flynn Fairwind came along. Now, the two were inseparable, and the change in his top assassin was subtle, but noticeable. He was happier, calmer, and seemed, well, human. Gone was the humorless robot that dispatched threats, and instead there was an actual man. It was incredible what love could do.
Unbidden, his thoughts turned to Wrathion. He hadn’t seen the dragon since he’d left to go to Silithus and work with Magni on defeating N’Zoth, which had been months ago. Their parting had been awkward, with him still angry, and his fist still smarting. The pain, both physical and emotional, had made his words short when he bid Wrathion goodbye, and they hadn’t communicated personally since. Oh sure, there were official reports, but even they had trickled off after N’Zoth’s defeat.
His mind was clearer without the dark impressions left by the Old God, and he regretted his behavior. He regretted not inviting his friend into his chambers for a private dinner and a night of catching up before Wrathion departed. He regretted not trying for more time with him.
He’d harbored a crush on the handsome dragon since Pandaria, since he was a mere teen, crushed by the Divine Bell, and recovering in a tavern in Pandaria. He’d befriended The Black Prince, partially out of loneliness, partially out of need to talk to someone who at least appeared his age, but mostly out of curiosity. And the more he’d gotten to know him, the deeper his feelings had developed.
And despite the years that had passed, he found those feelings resurfacing. He’d hoped the time and distance between them would help him tamp them into just friendship, but it wasn’t to be. Anduin sighed, setting the writ down unread. He wasn’t going to get any work done.
Picking up a pen, he set it to a fresh sheet of parchment. He was due to send acknowledgment to Magni anyway, what was a second letter?
Wrathion,
I hope you are well, and that your projects in Silithus proceed smoothly. I would request you return to Stormwind when you are able. I have need of a skilled advisor at my side, and you have proved most valuable. That is, of course, if you are interested.
King Anduin Wrynn
He read the note over and decided it sounded terrible. He was about to crumple it up and start again, but didn’t know what else to say. With a sigh, he sanded it to blot up excess ink, then folded it. Dripping wax on the fold, he sealed it with his signet ring, and set it aside. Then, he picked up another sheet of parchment and began his letter to Magni.
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Anduin looked up at the knock on his study door. “Enter,” he commanded, moving a pile of papers on his desk.
The heavy door opened, and in came Master Mathias Shaw and Captain Flynn Fairwind. As they approached, Anduin watched the Kul Tiran’s arm brush the older man’s unconsciously. They stopped on the far side of the desk, both straightening.
“King Wrynn, may I present Captain Fairwind,” the Spymaster began, but Anduin waved him off.
“It’s fine, Shaw. It’s just the three of us, there’s no need for formality. Sit. Coffee?”
“Please, your highness,” Fairwind said, promptly taking a seat.
Anduin poured cups and brought them over, noticing his head assassin’s eyes raise. “What? I wanted left alone today. That means doing things myself. I can pour coffee without spilling.”
“Of course, sire.”
Anduin set cream and sugar on the table, adding some to his own coffee. He watched the captain add cream to his, and was unsurprised to find Mathias drinking it black. He took a sip of his own, found it fine, and set it on the top of the desk.
“I appreciate you gentlemen coming by. I know you’re busy preparing for the trip, and also that Captain Fairwind just got into port. I won’t keep you. I’ve secured access to the Horde territories in the Eastern Kingdoms from the Horde Council, and I have a writ for you to carry on you, Master Shaw, to ensure smoother travel.”
Anduin shrugged, and continued. “You know that doesn’t mean it will be easy, but at least I won’t be handling ransom demands or hearing of you executed for trespassing with it. At least, not from anyone official. I’m hoping there’s no splinter group of Sylvanas loyalists out there looking to cause havoc. I would hope SI:7 would have uncovered them by now and you would have told me.”
Shaw shook his head. “As far as we’re aware, the continent has no loyalists to the Banshee Queen on it, nor pockets of those unwilling to accept the Horde Council. With the armistice and the writ, we’re as safe as we’ll get.”
“Good,” Anduin said. “I trust that Captain Fairwind is a capable fighter, or you wouldn’t be asking him along. I wish I could spare more troops, but as this is a small mission, any more people would be too obvious.”
“I wouldn’t want anyone else, your majesty. I’m used to working alone, or in a small group,” the older man said firmly.
“Can I provide anything to help?”
“You’ve done all you can, thank you.”
“Could we get some coffee to take with us?” Fairwind finally spoke up. Anduin and Mathias just looked at him. He shrugged. “What? This is better than I’ve had anywhere else.”
Mathias shook his head. “Only you, Flynn.” Anduin noticed a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“I will have some packaged for you,” Anduin promised, knowing he was also smiling.
“Appreciate it, mate,” the big Kul Tiran grinned.
“Flynn! Show some respect!” A blush coloured the spymaster’s cheeks.
Anduin laughed at Mathias’s obvious embarrassment. “It’s fine, Master Shaw. Sometimes it’s good to be reminded I am merely human.”
“It’s also useful for some people,” Mathias elbowed Flynn in the ribs, “to use their manners.”
Flynn leaned over, kissing his lover’s cheek. “You knew I didn’t have any of those when we met.” He turned back to Anduin. “Thank you, your majesty. Coffee would be most welcome. Spymaster Must-Have-Manners here is grouchy without coffee in the morning.”
Anduin pushed the scroll case, containing the writ, across the desk towards Shaw. “Take this now, so a page doesn’t misplace it. I’ll have coffee sent to SI:7 before you depart.”
Shaw took the case, and both men rose, bowing. Anduin stood to shake their hands. As they walked out, he watched the captain reach out and run a hand along the small of Mathias’s back, and receive a smile for his efforts. A pang went through Anduin’s chest.
He didn’t begrudge Mathias the comfort of a lover. Light knew the man needed a soft touch of someone, and meeting Captain Fairwind had proven he was an excellent fit for the usually uptight Spymaster. But seeing their casual touches, how familiar they were, left Anduin lonely.
He poured himself another cup of coffee, stirring in cream and sugar slowly. Would Wrathion be the sort to touch absently, like the Kul Tiran? Would he brush an arm against Anduin’s as they walked, or even take his hand? Would he be brave enough to lean in for a kiss during a meeting?
The dragon was brash, sometimes bordering on rude, so it was entirely possible he’d think nothing of it, and do what he wished in situations like that. A brief flash of Wrathion interrupting his weekly audience with the public for a kiss came to mind, and he choked on his sip of coffee. No, that would be totally inappropriate, and hopefully wouldn’t happen. People would talk.
But in more private ways? He could handle that. A hand on his knee as they sat side-by-side in a council meeting, or a quick kiss as one of them departed after lunch. Lazy nights on the oversize sofa in his sitting room, curled up before the stone fireplace together. He allowed his thoughts to wander further, to sharing a bed with the dragon, to wake up holding him. His mind briefly wandered elsewhere, but he corralled it back. He wasn’t quite ready to go there. Not yet.
He sighed, and sipped from the delicate porcelain cup. For all he knew, Wrathion had no such interests in him, and only regarded him as a friend. Or worse, his punch had undone any chance at friendship, and all that was left was polite anger. It might be easier if Wrathion decided he wasn’t worth it, and didn’t come back at all. Perhaps then he could push the feelings down, and away.
But then he’d never get to see him in his drake form. He’d heard from a number of Champions that had been there, that Wrathion was beautiful. Deadly and sleek, and he desperately wanted to see it for himself. Hoped, against hope, that Wrathion would take him for a flight, like he’d promised to do all those years ago. He no longer had a father to age ten years in a night, but the idea of being airborne, on dragon-back, was alluring.
Another knock at the door had him spilling coffee as he set it down. “Enter,” he commanded, feeling a sense of deja-vu.
A servant came in. “Pardon me, your majesty, but it’s nearly time for the council meeting. You asked to be notified when it was time to leave.”
So it was. “Thank you. Can you have someone come in and clean this up? I appear to have made a mess.”
“Right away, sire.”
Anduin gathered up a stack of paperwork for the meeting, and strode out the door. Perhaps an afternoon of meetings would clear his mind of one far-away black dragon that probably hated him.