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Anduin woke slowly, disoriented, to the sound of a violent storm blowing heavy gusts of rain down onto the roof of the tavern. He blinked several times, staring into the unusually dark room and waiting for his eyes to adjust. Something wasn’t right. Normally he left a light on, in case he had to get up in the middle of the night. Where was his wardrobe? Why was his blanket so heavy? And why wasn’t the tree outside scratching at his window with every gust of wind?
It took him another few seconds of blearily searching for his possessions before it dawned on him that this wasn’t his room.
The revelation should have been alarming, but he was still too close to sleep to muster any emotions beyond a dreamy sort of bewilderment. Obviously it was all right for him to be here, or he wouldn’t be tucked so comfortably in bed. This was still Tong’s tavern, he recognized the dark bamboo wood of the walls and the lanterns hanging from the ceiling. It just wasn’t his room, that was all. His room was upstairs, where he had a view over the landscape and so he could exercise his leg every day by navigating the stairs. This room was clearly on the ground floor, it lacked the large windows of the rooms upstairs.
Yawning, he worked one arm out into the open air. Despite the weather, he felt almost too warm and his movements were frustratingly restricted. Who could sleep with a pile of blankets this thick? The Veiled Stair always got cold at night, but this was just overkill.
He sat up and stretched, shivering slightly as the air hit his bare shoulders. What time was it? He couldn’t hear any activity in the main room of the tavern, which meant it had to be somewhere in the earliest hours of the morning. Usually when he woke at night he could hear at least a little activity, whether it was adventurers telling tales over a last mug of beer or Wrathion’s agents coming in from whatever missions he sent them on.
Anduin rewound that thought a little bit. Wrathion. He remembered now, this was Wrathion’s room. No wonder it had taken him so long to recognize it, Wrathion kept the door shut at all times and hardly ever allowed anyone inside. Usually he didn’t even let Anduin step past the doorway, insisting that he had everything the way he liked it and if he let anyone come in they would just mess things up. He hadn’t protested earlier, because…
Fully alert now, Anduin slowly lay back down as the memories returned in a rush.
They’d spent the day outside, which wasn’t unusual. The Veiled Stair was beautiful, and Anduin spent as much time out of the tavern taking it all in as his leg would permit him. Many of the adventurers who came up to the tavern complained about the mist that hung over the mountains almost every day, but Anduin thought it only added to the wonder of this place. More often than not now, Wrathion joined him later in the day and they would spend the evening together, walking up through the hills or just playing a game on the porch of the tavern.
The guards his father had sent up to the Veiled Stair with him were unhappy with their inclination to spend so much time together, but his growing relationship with Wrathion was such an overwhelmingly positive distraction that they never struck him as anything more than a slight nuisance. It had become something of a game, conspiring with Wrathion to find creative ways to duck his guards so they could have a moment alone.
This time, Wrathion had chased a group of hozen out of the heated pool at the back of the tavern and invited Anduin to join him. He’d sent Right and Left away somewhere, but Anduin’s guards had been more difficult. He couldn’t outright tell them to do anything, they were following orders from his father to keep an eye on him at all times. Trying to order them away would accomplish nothing, and would probably just cause trouble. Anduin knew they were already suspicious of how much time he was spending with Wrathion, and were just waiting for direct confirmation before bringing their concerns to his father.
But Wrathion had looked so good sitting there in the water, steam billowing all around him with the last of the evening light reflecting on his face. At that moment, Anduin had felt like anything would be worth the risk to be able to spend one more moment out there with him. So he’d made a clumsy, distracted attempt at using the negotiation skills he’d been leaning on his guards. It was embarrassing to have bodyguards hovering over him all the time, the tavern was well-guarded from all sides, and it was an especially cold night out anyway so wouldn’t they be more comfortable waiting outside? He would only be a few feet away, they could be there in seconds if he called for them.
Members of the Stormwind Royal Guard were not stupid, and he wasn’t oblivious enough to think that they had been swayed by any of his arguments. More likely, they’d just decided that they weren’t getting paid enough to listen to him rationalizing for that long. The important thing was that they had eventually agreed, grudgingly, to stay inside. The door was to remain open, but there weren’t any windows out to the back, so they had a degree of privacy. And really, it wasn’t like anything was going to happen, not with his guards and Tong only steps away.
By the time the tavern lights had gone out for the night and it was quiet enough to sneak back inside, neither of them had been thinking anymore about being discovered. It was a shorter walk to Wrathion’s room, and he had ushered Anduin inside without a word.
Anduin closed his eyes and took a slow breath, sinking back down into the pillows. He felt warm all over, and not just from the blankets. Just thinking about Wrathion, the way his eyes had glowed in the dark, and how hot his skin had been to the touch, made him feel like he’d swallowed a whole mug of overboiled tea. Even in memories the feeling was overwhelming, drowning out his thoughts of the potential consequences until they were nothing more than a gentle background hum.
Come to think of it, where was Wrathion? Anduin wished he hadn’t fallen asleep, he would have liked to go with him wherever he’d gone. The tavern was completely quiet, so he couldn’t be conducting business with his agents in another room. Had he gone out somewhere, to avoid waking Anduin up? If so, the consideration was appreciated, but it stung a little that he hadn’t stayed. Wrathion didn’t seem to ever sleep, but surely taking a break from his work for one whole night wouldn’t be that difficult. Especially considering the circumstances.
Maybe he should leave? Although he would much rather stay and wait for Wrathion to come back, he had to admit that if he was going to leave, now would be the perfect time for it. Everyone else was asleep, it would be easy to sneak back to his room undetected. It would definitely be inconvenient if anyone found him here, after all, and he was supposed to be avoiding trouble.
He sat up again, looking around the room and wondering where he’d left his clothes. Just as he was in the process of pulling back the blanket and facing the prospect of walking alone back upstairs in this storm, a slight movement near his stomach made him pause. Lifting the blanket more carefully, he leaned down to look.
Wrathion, in his dragon form, was sprawled out under the blankets in the middle of the bed. He must have involuntarily shifted back in his sleep, Anduin thought with a smile. His wings were scrunched up under him in a way that would certainly be uncomfortable if he were awake, and he was growling and twitching in a reaction to the cooler air.
Anduin reached out on impulse, thinking that he should try to fix Wrathion’s wings, but stopped just short of touching him. Wrathion needed the sleep, he didn’t need someone poking at him and pulling his wings in the middle of the night.
Carefully, slowly, making sure not to make any sudden moves or jostle the bed around, Anduin moved closer until his stomach was gently presed against Wrathion’s side. Then he lay down, pulled the blanket back up, and closed his eyes.
When he woke up next, it was light. The storm had moved on, and it had taken most of the mountain’s fog with it. The sun shining in through the window was bright, and shone down into a warm patch on the mattress. Wrathion had moved during the night, and was now sleeping directly in the center of the patch of sunlight, curled up on his stomach with his head resting on Anduin’s outstretched left arm.
Anduin squinted at the window, trying to work out what time it was. Seven, maybe eight in the morning? The tavern was open for business, he could hear one or two people ordering breakfast from Tong. He hadn’t meant to stay so long, he’d gone back to sleep fully confident that he could wake up at dawn and sneak back into his room before anyone was up. Every minute that he stayed was another minute closer to the moment his guards would notice he wasn’t in his bed and come looking for him.
He tugged gently at his arm, trying to dislodge Wrathion without waking him. Wrathion snorted and squirmed, curling his head inward and trapping Anduin’s arm even more securely.
Eventually Anduin gave up and let his head fall back down onto the pillow with a quiet laugh. He was already late, what would it hurt to stay just a little longer? He rolled onto his left side to watch Wrathion, smiling softly. It was rare that he got an opportunity to look so closely at him in his dragon form, he reserved it primarily for rapid travel and didn’t like to let people see it for very long. Now that the sun was out, Anduin could see every tiny scale covering Wrathion’s body catching the light differently as he shifted around in his sleep. He was perfect. Anduin buried his head in the blanket, momentarily unable to contain his emotions.
It couldn’t be normal to feel so much for someone. If it was, then how could Jaina still function around Kalecgos? How had his father been married, and still managed to run a kingdom at the same time? Seeing Wrathion in his human form, whether he was ordering his agents around or smiling at him across a game board, always made his breath catch and his perception narrow until the only thing he could see or think about was Wrathion. Apparently he had that effect as a dragon too, and it wasn’t fair. He didn’t have to try, he was asleep and all Anduin could think about was leaning down and kissing him awake.
Reaching out with his right arm, he gently touched Wrathion’s head with one finger, brushing against the scales at the base of his horns and imagining what they would feel like against his lips. He couldn’t bring himself to try it, Wrathion would certainly wake up if he did that, but there was a sweetness in wanting it and he lost track of how long he lay there lost in the fantasy.
All good things had to end, and in this case that end came when the sunbeam moved away from Wrathion’s face. He growled, stretched his wings out, opened his eyes, and glared at the window like it had personally insulted him.
Anduin covered up a laugh with his hand. “Good morning.”
“Oh. Good morning.” Wrathion seemed surprised to find him there. His features softened instantly and he flopped back down against Anduin, yawning and stretching and conveniently pressing back into his chest. “Did you sleep well?”
If only every morning could start out this way. “I did,” Anduin said, smiling down at him. Before he could lose his nerve, he leaned down quickly and kissed Wrathion’s head in between his horns. It was better than he’d imagined, and when he pulled back he tilted his head down to press his forehead against Wrathion’s for a moment. His scales were warm, both from the sun and his own internal heat, and they were soft against Anduin’s face.
Wrathion returned the gesture, nuzzling against Anduin for a moment. Then he rolled over, shifting into human form mid-motion and coming to rest on his back. He grinned, the invitation clear on his face, and it would be so easy to take him up on it. Reach for him, pull the covers up over them, block out the world for a while longer.
“I think Aunt Jaina’s right about you,” Anduin said affectionately, referencing a letter she had sent him. “You are a terrible influence.” He ran a hand through Wrathion’s hair, smoothing it down as best he could and marveling at how soft it was.
“Yes, just awful.” Wrathion wasn’t laughing audibly, but Anduin could feel him shaking with the effort of suppressing it. “A ferocious dragon, corrupting the poor innocent baby prince. Whatever will we do?” Propping himself up on his elbows, he leaned forward and kissed Anduin on the nose.
Anduin rubbed at his nose, feigning grave offense, then smiled and leaned in to kiss Wrathion properly. He really was a bad influence. The tavern was waking up, and the time when he could have departed unnoticed had long since passed. He would have to wait for a quiet moment to gather his things and head for his room, and who knew when a good time might come along? I might have to stay here all day, Anduin thought, moving to cover Wrathion’s body more fully with his own. There would be questions about that too, but he was sure he and Wrathion together could come up with some excuse.
Reality intruded in the form of an armored hand knocking sharply on the door. Anduin froze at once, ignoring Wrathion’s quiet, annoyed protests. The door was locked, wasn’t it? He couldn't remember seeing Wrathion lock it, and he certainly hadn't thought to.
“Prince Anduin?” It was one of his guards, a man called Thompson. “I know you’re in there.” He was trying to keep his voice down, no doubt in an attempt to protect Anduin’s privacy from the tavern guests. His efforts were hampered by the fact that he was clearly quite angry. Anduin cringed.
“Yes, I’m here,” he called back, praying that Thompson wouldn't decide to open the door. “I was too tired for the stairs, so Wrathion let me spend the night.”
It was a weak excuse. Lying wasn’t his strong suit, he preferred to not to keep secrets. They only complicated things that should be simple. Still, he understood that they were sometimes necessary. This was definitely one of those times. If Thompson decided that it wasn’t worth questioning him over it, he might be able to avoid an uncomfortable conversation with his father. Or worse, a visit. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than having his father come up here and actually meet Wrathion. There was just no way that would go well.
Thompson didn’t buy it. He could tell from the long-suffering sigh on the other side of the door, although it didn’t take a genius to have guessed that he wouldn’t. “If you go somewhere, or if you don’t feel like you can make it to your room on your own, you need to come get us,” he said. “When we couldn’t find you last night, we thought you’d been kidnapped.” It wasn’t the first time Anduin had gotten this lecture, and he really did feel bad about making their jobs more difficult. Thompson let his words sink in for a moment, then continued. “We had to have that dragon’s bodyguards tell us where you were. If you’d been in danger, what were we supposed to do? Your father would have our heads if he found out that we lost track of you for even a minute.”
Wrathion was running his hands up and down Anduin’s sides, tracing over his ribs in a way that almost tickled and gazing up at him with a wicked smile. He was being a horrible distraction, and he was doing it on purpose. There was nothing Anduin could do about it either, if he moved his arms would give out. He struggled to catch his breath and find something coherent to say. “I know, and I’m really sorry. I should have told you where I was going to be, but it was dark inside and I didn’t want to bother anybody.” One of Wrathion’s hands pushed under the blanket. Anduin gasped, but managed to hide it in a cough. “Can we talk about this later?”
That was the wrong thing to say. The silence that followed was agonizing. Finally, Thompson sighed again. “All right, I guess so.” His armor clanked softly as he walked away.
Anduin relaxed, letting his arms go limp with relief and dropping down against Wrathion’s chest. Wrathion wheezed and scrambled to push him up.
“You’re squishing me!” he complained.
“You deserve it,” Anduin told him, although he took pity on Wrathion and pushed himself back up to take some of the weight off. “You could have helped.”
“Why would I do that?” Wrathion was grinning again, apparently the idea of being walked in on was funny to him. “From what I saw, you handled that just fine.”
“No thanks to you,” Anduin grumbled. “Do you know how close he was to coming in here? If my dad hears about my being with you, he really will kill you. And then he’ll make me go home to Stormwind, and probably won’t let me do anything on my own again until I’m older than he is now. I'm still not sure my guards aren't writing to him right this second.”
Wrathion laughed and kissed his chest, which he took as a peace offering. “You’re being dramatic, Prince Anduin. Surely your father has more important things to worry about than the state of your personal life.”
“You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d ever met my father.” Anduin said. “And if we’re lucky, you never will.”
“That’s fine with me,” Wrathion said. “As long as he continues doing his job properly, I have no interest in meeting your father. The only person I am interested in is you.” He scratched gently at the back of Anduin’s head, tugging on his hair just hard enough to make him shiver and nuzzling at his neck.
Anduin reluctantly removed Wrathion’s hands and sat up. “I can’t believe you’re still at this. You know I have to go now, if I stay in here much longer it’ll just make things worse.” He was going to have to spend the next week being the perfect charge to apologize to his guards so they wouldn’t feel compelled to write to his father. No wandering off, no complaining about restrictions. No alone time with Wrathion. He frowned at the thought. Still, it had been worth it.
“You’re already in trouble.” Wrathion sat up to wrap him in a hug. “How much worse can it get?”
He was being surprisingly clingy. Anduin made an effort to memorize the way it felt to have Wrathion hanging off him, surrounding him with the warmth he was generating. It wasn’t that Wrathion was never affectionate normally, he just seemed to prefer expressing himself in different ways. He would seek Anduin out, not for contact, but just to spend time with him. In public, they hardly ever touched.
Anduin leaned into the hug. “What a good question,” he said sarcastically. “I’d rather not find out.”
“Very well then,” Wrathion said, letting him go and falling back onto the mattress with a tragic sigh. “I suppose I do have some business to see to today, although I would much rather spend the day here with you.”
Saying that he had to leave was one thing, making it happen was another. Every inch of him rebelled against the idea of getting up, and one last kiss evolved into many before he could force himself to let go. He pushed himself onto his feet and stopped to stretch. All his muscles were sore, but not in a bad way. It would take some time to get them going. Shivering in the cold, Anduin slowly made his way around the room, gathering up his clothes from where he’d left them, strewn around among Wrathion’s things. His shirt was hanging off a chair, there was one boot sticking out from under the bed…
Wrathion watched him move around with open appreciation, making no effort to help him find anything. Anduin flushed at the attention, equal parts embarrassed and pleased. He wanted to prolong the process, push back the moment when he had to step out into the real world again, but it really was chilly out away from the blankets. He dressed quickly, thankful that he hadn’t left anything outside. When he finished, he hesitated at the door and looked back at Wrathion. He was still sprawled out lazily, and showed no sign that he planned to move.
“Aren’t you getting up?” Normally Wrathion was up at dawn, delegating daily tasks to his agents.
Wrathion yawned. “Oh, I will in a minute,” he said. “For now I want to stay here a while longer and reflect on what wonderful company you are.”
What could he say to that? What was an appropriate response? Thanks, you too didn’t quite capture the scope of it.
“Go on and see to your guards, Anduin Wrynn.” Wrathion smiled at him, and he felt like his heart might burst. “I will join you shortly.”
Anduin smiled back, gave him a little wave, and pushed the door open. Whatever trouble he was in, at least he knew he wouldn’t be alone.