Work Text:
Anduin paces anxiously outside his consort’s rooms, trying not to listen to the snarled words and hushed reassurances. Wrathion had been behaving oddly for over a month and it had come to a head a week ago when the drake stormed out of the Keep and flew north to his family’s mountain. It was only a day ago that not one, but two black dragons returned to the city. The king snorts, anxiety easing for a moment, as he remembers the panic of his people.
He supposes Ebyssian hadn’t expected a warm welcome anyway.
The door behind him opens to reveal the older dragon in his Tauren form. He looks….amused?
“Lord Ebyssian, is he okay?” He asks in a rush. The dragon looks surprised at either the question or the honorific, Anduin’s not sure.
He regains his composure quickly enough and smiles down at the king. “Yes, your majesty, he’s fine. Given that you and he have been intimate, I’m sure you know of the uniqueness of his physical form, yes?”
“Of course, but--”
The taller male raises a hand to stop him. “Due to this, he’s grown egg-heavy. It’s rather uncomfortable for him, resulting in his shortened temper. I’m not well-versed in this situation, so I’ve requested the aid of another dragonflight.”
Anduin scowls. “If the Life-Binder comes here--”
“Alexstrasza is not permitted near my brother as long as I draw breath.” Ebyssian interjects fiercely. Anduin backs down immediately, seeing the rage in those red eyes. A short exhale of smoke later and the dragon continues. “No, I’ve requested the aid of Merithra. She hatched her first clutch not but two months past. She’ll be of help to Wrathion now.”
“Wait, hatched? I thought there could be no more whelps.” Anduin states.
“Apparently you were mistaken. Fifty healthy and active green whelps attest to that.” Ebyssian looks hopeful. “If Wrathion’s own is viable and even half that size, our flight has a future…”
Like a cathedral bell chiming, everything the dragon in front of him has been saying rings clearly in his mind at long last. “Wrathion’s own? He’s pregnant?!”
In the older dragon’s defense, he does try to stifle the laugh that echoes down the hallway. The amusement in his eyes comes back full force when he sees the king’s incredulous expression. “In a manner of speaking, yes. We don’t know if it’s just eggs or if the eggs are fertilized, though. Regardless of your doubtless extensive efforts, Wrathion’s physical situation remains somewhat of a mystery to all but the Life-Binder herself. You understand why he’s refused to speak to her about this?”
“Yes.” Of course he does. The nightmares Wrathion still has from when he was aware of what was happening to him have faded over the years, but not stopped entirely.
“Good. Now, as his mate--”
“Husband.”
“Mate, in this case.” Ebyssian reasserts with a level tone. “Ceremony or no, the more instinctual side of him still recognizes you as his mate. That’s more important currently. As his mate, you’ll be welcomed into the room. Merithra is a familiar female, and will be as well. I, however, will need to make myself as scarce as possible. Egg-heavy dragons look on males--except for their mate--as a deadly threat to their eggs. I shall return to Highmountain for the time being, though you will have to send word if he becomes distressed. It may not be far enough away.”
“It may not be--really?”
He laughs. “I doubt it won’t be, but we know how my brother can be. He’s territorial by nature.”
Anduin nods, and Ebyssian starts to leave. “Wait, please.” Ebyssian does so, looking at him. “Thank you. For bringing him back here, I mean. But…if they are alive…” His voice breaks. They’d spoken about what-ifs before, he and Wrathion. What it would be like, where they would grow up, how they’d spend time between Stormwind and Blackrock, what they’d look like--
He doesn’t notice the tears streaking his cheeks until he’s being wrapped in a gentle embrace. There’s a rumble deep inside Ebyssian’s chest that’s oddly soothing. “Hope is never misplaced, Anduin.”
He chokes on a sob and starts babbling to the older dragon until the tears slow and stop. All of their hopes and dreams, their arguments, the despair in Wrathion’s entire being every time the subject was brought up. The words end in a hiccup, and Anduin pulls away from Ebyssian’s embrace, wiping his eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to--”
“I understand.” Anduin’s head snaps up to look at the dragon’s face. His eyes aren’t filled with pity over the situation, but a mixture of sorrow, understanding, and hope. “We’ve spent years looking for more eggs, only to come up empty handed every time. Even the other flights couldn’t find anymore of our kind.”
“He told me…”
“He knows he carries the hope of our flight with him this very moment. I fear that empty eggs may be viewed as a failure. I do not want my brother to break, my friend.”
The human shakes his head vigorously. “He won’t. I won’t let him. I swear this to you on all that I hold dear.”
Ebyssian’s expression turns stern and he looks the small human up and down before nodding. “I knew you were the perfect match for him. Please, send word when all is said and done.”
“I will.”
--
Wrathion winces as the eggs inside him shift again, pressing in all the wrong places. They’re warmer than he is, making him feel too hot and too cold at the same time. He’d wondered why shifting had been so painful for so long, and now he knew. Up until a week ago, they had been small enough that they shifted with his transformation--the last he’d been able to manage before collapsing in a heap at the base of Blackrock Mountain--but now they were just uncomfortable.
He supposed it could be worse. He could have flown anywhere else, been stuck with no answers, but he’d gone home and his brother had come down from the mountaintop to snarl at the many annoyed elementals surrounding Wrathion. Wrathion spares a moment to smile. He hadn’t seen his brother’s natural form until then, and it was everything their flight should be. He hoped he’d be half as majestic as he continued to grow (Ebyssian reassured him that he’d be more so, obviously).
The drake smells more than hears his mate enter the large room and come closer. Wrathion lifts his large head from where it’s pillowed on the mattress, looking at Anduin.
His beloved had changed so much in the years they’d been together. He radiated Light energy now, eyes permanently tinged slightly golden with the power coursing through him. The change had been inadvertent, the result of an effort to remove Sargeras’ sword from Silithus once and for all. The channeled energy had backfired into the Draenei that had been working with Anduin, as well as the king himself. It wasn’t quite the ceremony the Army of Light had explained, but the result was the same.
The whole near-immortality thing was a definite perk in Wrathion’s book, however.
He’s snapped out of his reverie by Anduin’s cool hands on his muzzle, stroking the scales there lovingly. Wrathion almost purrs with it, until one of the eggs shifts lower and he snarls in pain.
Another gentle touch from his mate soothes the pain away in a small flash of Light. “I wish you weren’t in pain.”
“Ugh.” Such a dignified response, but it sums up the dragon’s opinion on the matter succinctly. The laugh from Anduin makes him feel better, too. “Byss says it’s expected at my age.”
“’Byss?’” Anduin inquires as he rubs soothing circles where the eggs are pressing against his belly. “I suppose that’s one way to shorten his name.”
In his human form, the blush would have reached his ears, but instead Wrathion just turns his head away. He hadn’t meant to use his brother’s nickname in front of Anduin, but here they were. “I’m invalid, you can’t hold what I say against me.”
“Hm.” Another egg shifts lower, but Anduin must feel it too. No pain greets him this time. “Merithra should be here shortly.”
Wrathion snorts. For all of the king’s aptitude with the Light, humans were still deaf. He heard the other dragon land five minutes prior. Ebyssian had taken off shortly after, meaning his elder brother had explained the situation in person. At least he’d left before Wrathion could start snapping at him.
It wouldn’t do to do any damage to the one family member he had left, after all.
He’s about to mention the green dragon’s arrival when her scent reaches him. It’s almost as reassuring as his mate’s scent and that alerts him that everything’s about to happen a lot faster than he had thought.
“Oh, Wrathion, you’re almost the shape of a whelp again.” Merithra states as she steps closer to where Anduin is standing.
“So nice to see you, too, dear.” He replies drily. “I don’t know how you did this.”
“It helps to be expecting it, trust me.” Her own cool hands join Anduin’s and she makes a considering sound. “No wonder you’re uncomfortable. Anduin, hello, could you please gather all the blankets you can muster? I spoke to some servants on my way up, there should be more coming.”
“Sure.” Wrathion whines as his mate leaves his side, then more as several eggs shift at once.
“As quickly as possible, if you please.” The green dragon clarifies, a tinge of urgency in her tone. “Now, Wrathion, can you get up on your legs? We need to get some blankets under you so the eggs have a nice place to land. They may be too hot to handle--”
“Like me.”
She smacks his tail, perhaps the one place that doesn’t hurt. He likes her more immediately. “Yes, yes, the Titans gift to Azeroth, we know. I, however, am not a black dragon and would like to not be torched by your eggs, thank you. Now up with you.”
The black drake manages to roll enough to tuck his legs under himself and heave himself up. It hurts, but some of the pressure lessens just as he feels Anduin tuck some blankets--and pillows, Titans bless him--between his hind legs. Wrathion can think of a dozen other situations where he’d like blankets and pillows tucked under him, and none are as horrible as this.
“Perfect.” Merithra’s voice softens to something more soothing. “It may feel like you’re going to--oh!!”
The pressure eases more just as Wrathion feels something slip out of his entrance. It’s the most embarrassing moment of his life, to be so exposed and vulnerable, but then Anduin is next to his head and beaming at him.
“Darling, you have an egg!” His human exclaims, bending forward to press his head against the dragon’s.
“Yes, and I’m rather aware that there are more currently compressing my internal organs, so let’s not celebrate just--oof!”
Wrathion’s dimly aware of more eggs slipping out effortlessly, his body instinctively knowing what to do. Several plop down into the blanket in quick succession, and he decides its best to just not speak for the remainder of the experience.
--
It takes about two more hours for the rest of the eggs to be birthed, the process becoming more and more difficult as there are fewer and fewer eggs in him. The last one finally slips free into the large pile on the blankets, and Wrathion barely manages to shift to his human form before collapsing in Anduin’s arms. Unlike after a typical transformation, he’s left nude and snorts when the green dragon averts her gaze. He must be out of magic, then.
“Never. Again.” Wrathion mumbles into Anduin’s chest--and ooooh, that’s a nice place to be. “Never, ever again.”
His husband kisses the top of his head. “I don’t think it’s something you’ll be able to get out of, love.”
Merithra shrugs. “Once every decade, typically.” She sounds distracted and Wrathion hears her counting. “Quite the amount, though. Seventy-three.”
The black dragon sighs dejectedly. “Only eggs, though. Meaningless.”
Anduin holds him closer and asks, “My lady, does candling work on dragon eggs?”
“Hmmm…I’m not sure. With a bright enough source of light, perhaps?”
“Could you bring some of the eggs to me, please?”
Wrathion whines and shifts so he won’t have to see. He knows what Anduin’s doing, has seen him do it at the chicken coops outside of the Keep, and feels a growing sense of dread. He can hear the eggs being shifted closer and feels the king shift one arm. Merithra must be holding the egg, then.
He tries to not listen to the words Anduin speaks or feel when he shifts to light up another egg. One, two, ten, twelve get checked and set aside wordlessly. The thirteenth egg, however, is different.
“C-could you turn it, please?” Anduin asks in an awed voice. Another moment passes and Wrathion feels himself being nudged. “Wrathion, look!”
He doesn’t know why he bothers to lift his head and be faced with yet another thing he’s failed at, but he manages. What he sees, however, is an egg illuminated from beneath by his husband’s hand, a dark shape twitching inside of it. He moves fast enough that he almost sends the egg rolling from Merithra’s grip.
“But--but how?!” He exclaims as he gets the egg in his own arms, curling protectively around it. “Even if I--if I were--I’ve only been with Anduin!” He turns to face his beloved human, panicking a little. “Please, Anduin, I swear, I’ve never, with what dragon would I--”
“Wrathion, calm down.” Anduin says, laughing. “Velen said odd things might be possible after my experience. Maybe this is one of those?”
He clings to the egg tighter until he feels it shift. It startles him enough that only a quick dive from the green dragon prevents it from toppling to the hard marble floor. “I crushed it!”
Both Merithra and Anduin start laughing. The other dragon places the egg between him and Anduin and shakes her head. “If they were fully hard before we birthed them, do you have any idea how much more painful that would be?” She winces. “They’re a little flexible right now, but they’ll harden in the next few weeks before they hatch.”
“It. Before it hatches. There’s only one.” Wrathion states sadly, glancing at the ones that had been set off to the side.
“So far.” She reaches over and grabs another of the many eggs that remain. “Hop to it, shiny boy.”
Anduin snorts and lights his hand up again. The amusement lessens when the egg shows no darkness inside of it. Wrathion whimpers miserably, but forces himself to keep watching. At least he’d have one.
It takes another five eggs to find a second, a third, a fourth that show wriggling life within them. Each one they find gets set next to Wrathion, who places a hand on each new one before greeting the next.
After what seems like an eternity, they reach the last egg, which gets set next to the others that are empty. Wrathion doesn’t let himself dwell on that one, however, not with eighteen healthy, living offspring waiting by his side. He can’t tear his eyes away from them, not noticing when Merithra summons more of her flight through a portal, each one leaving with the empty eggs until the portal closes and only she remains.
“Well, cousin, I suggest building a bit of a sand and rock pit for them in here, or temporarily moving to Blackrock. They’ll need to be kept warm until they hatch.” She sets to bundling each egg in a blanket, save for the very first one they’d discovered. That one she leaves in Wrathion’s arms.
“I don’t know how well the Keep’s populace would take eighteen loud hatchlings disturbing them…” Wrathion says distractedly. “But…Anduin, would you come with me?”
“Of course I will! I wouldn’t miss our children’s hatching for the life of me.” Anduin carefully reaches over to rest his own hand on the first egg.
“Our children….” His voice is dazed, even to himself. “Our children, Anduin!”
The human’s shining eyes meet his and Wrathion’s glad he’s not the only one crying. “Ours.”
The black dragon passes the egg to Merithra to bundle like the rest and kisses his husband soundly.
After they part, Anduin picks him up gently and moves him onto the bed, tucking him under one of the few remaining clean blankets. Wrathion lets himself drift a bit while servants are called to bring warming pans and instructed to rotate them once an hour until told otherwise. There’s a kiss to his forehead--Merithra, by the scent--and hushed words, then the bed dips and he’s tucked against his husband’s chest.
“You do know that it wouldn’t have mattered to me, right?” The king’s voice is soft.
Wrathion’s quiet for a long moment. “I--I know.”
And, he realizes, he does. The relief coursing through him is intense, but he knows that even if every single egg had been empty, he would have still been loved by this foolish human of his, by the strange green cousin tidying up after him, by his adoring and awkward elder brother. He sobs at the idea. He had a clutch, now, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t had family. It’s just bigger now, but it had already been there.
He realizes something else in that moment and snorts. “How much babysitting do you think I can get out of Chromie because of this?”
Anduin laughs loudly, setting Wrathion off. “No, no, imagine Kalecgos surrounded by our whelps!”
They both laugh harder, and for the first time in a long time, Wrathion feels right. Because he is. He always has been. It just took him too long to understand that he’s loved just as he is.