Chapter Text
The Prince of Stormwind was, in essence, easy to figure out. He was bright, brilliant….and blinding. Wrathion played in dark places, it was well known; but when you have Stormwind’s royalty on your doorstep it’s hard to hide from the light.
And hide he tried. Wrathion’s mysterious air and aloof personality was meant to deter anyone wanting to get close to him. Continuously avoid a question and you’ll find most people will let it go. But not Anduin Wrynn. No, never Anduin Wrynn.
He grew annoyed any time Wrathion avoided giving a straight answer, grew angry whenever he spouted off confusing metaphors and smart-sounding words he only half understood himself. The Prince refused to be pushed out, away, and never once did Wrathion think anything good would come of his incessant questions. Not until they found themselves cornered away in Anduin’s room, late at night, speaking of anything and everything but the war around them.
The Prince of Stormwind was easy to figure out. Anduin Wrynn was a harder puzzle to solve.
Emotions were fickle things for the Black Prince. Things like anger and doubt were his best friends. Oh, sure, he could fake confidence and happiness. But the truth was that Wrathion hadn’t felt anything other than doubt since his father’s death. Could he prepare Azeroth’s forces for the Legion in time? He was lost in it until Anduin came along.
Anduin, who had confidence in his abilities and goals, had an addictive quality to Wrathion. His positivity cleared the dragon’s uncertainty. His happiness lifted Wrathion’s mood. And the ultimate purity Anduin radiated made Wrathion crave it for himself.
It was a dark time the week after Anduin showed up in the tavern, body aching and barely able to walk from his room to the stairs without help. He still had his positivity, but Wrathion noticed the Prince’s usual glow had dimmed.
So there they sat in Anduin’s room, the dragon perched in the window. He would watch Anduin worriedly as the blond reclined on the bed and propped his leg on a mountain of pillows, averting his gaze whenever the Prince looked up.
“That was stupid.” Wrathion blurted out, only gesturing towards Anduin’s injury when the older boy gave him a confused look. “Brave, yes, but stupid.”
“Someone had to stop Garrosh. There wasn’t any time to wait for help. I had one of your champions with me anyways.”
“And you still ended up injured.” Realizing how angry he sounded, the dragon took a breath and diverted his worry elsewhere. “I have no doubt in the abilities of my champions, but they cannot protect you from being crushed to death.”
“You're oddly upset for someone who's using me for their own agenda.”
Wrathion looked away, directing his gaze out of the window this time, so as not to be distracted by the boy who took up most of his thoughts.
“If I was using you, dear Prince, I wouldn't show any concern. Getting attached to a pawn will ruin any plan.”
It was silent for a moment as the two weighed the tension around them.
“What am I to you, then?”
Wrathion faced Anduin once more, meeting his gaze this time, unwavering. “You are a distraction, Anduin Wrynn. A temptation that burns more than it pleases. And I am absolutely enamored by you.”
Anduin stared in stunned silence as a flush of red crept across his pale features. He watched as Wrathion’s face momentarily fell uncertain before the dragon composed himself and stood, excusing himself from the room. Unable to move fast enough, Anduin opened his mouth to protest but quickly shut it. The Black Prince was gone, leaving the blond to think about what just transpired.