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“No, my little darling, your left hand should go here, and your right here…there we go.” Wrathion adjusts his son’s hands and watching the young dragon--currently in his favored half-elf form--pluck gingerly at the harp’s strings. He demonstrates the chords again and nods in encouragement when the whelp successfully mimics him. They continue for a while before he looks up to see Anduin standing there, soft smile on his lips.
“How are the lessons going?” The king asks, question more directed towards their son rather than Wrathion.
Varian giggles. “I made him say a bad word earlier!”
”Traitor.” The dragon replies under his breath. At Anduin’s arched eyebrow, he clarifies. “A string was tightened too far and snapped. No one was hurt but I may have said some choice words when it startled me.”
“Mhm. Varian, da’len, your uncle was wondering where you’d gotten off to…you’re late for lessons with him.” Anduin grins when the whelp makes an anxious noise and shifts into his scaled form, wings flapping hard as he zips off to his uncle’s workshop. The blond walks over and picks up the hearth, setting it next to his husband. “He’s got talent, doesn’t he?”
Wrathion shrugs as he places his own instrument aside. “Too early to tell, but he’s got a keen ear. A far cry better than any of his clutchmates, though his younger siblings are already showing some more talent in that arena.”
“That’s not exactly a high bar to pass.” Anduin says with a wry grin. The cacophony of seventeen tone-deaf whelps was enough to last him a lifetime. How Varian had been the only one out of that clutch to have a lick of musical talent, he’ll never know. “How are you feeling, by the way?”
The dragon makes a face. He’d recently been incredibly ill, near-hypothermic in the wake of whatever rare disease could infect a dragon. Ebyssian, fortunately, had had the disease during his earlier years and knew the treatment, not leaving his brother’s side for a moment. Now, however, Wrathion could still barely walk, muscles weakened over the few weeks of illness. “Could be worse, I suppose. At least I can get to the privy by myself now.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to help you…” Anduin comments, expression betraying his guilt.
Wrathion takes his husband’s hand and brings it to his lips. “But you did, my dearest love. You stayed by my side, even though you were worried. I do feel a little bad for Genn, though…” The old wolf had volunteered to watch the whelps while both dragon and king were unable to. Apparently the adventure was enough for several years, as Genn had promptly declared himself on vacation for the foreseeable future.
“He’ll survive the traumatic experience, I’m sure. I didn’t mean to interrupt your time with Varian, by the way, but Kalecgos had come by with the vaccination you’d requested. Making one was relatively simple, according to him, though an exercise in patience. He humbly requests that the whelps attend a week-long class in Dragonblight as payment.” Anduin sits next to Wrathion. “Conveniently, that week will coincide with the meeting of the other Aspects in a month. I already agreed, since Stella’s oldest clutch will be attending as well.”
The dragon’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “You set up a playdate, didn’t you?”
“What? Our children need friends…real friends, not just a spymaster and a wayward captain.”
“Shaw and Fairwind are excellent role models for our children, I’ll have you know!” He tucks himself against his husband’s side with a sigh. “They’ll make proper mischief-makers out of our whelps.”
Anduin snorts. “That they will. By the way, any idea what the meeting is about? Alexstrazsa knows I’ll be attending, yes?”
“Yes, of course. And I’m not sure. Something about something with the Coldarra, who knows? I already told her it’s Kalec’s problem, not mine, so I’ve no idea what she’s going on about this time.”
“Well, I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we?” Anduin kisses Wrathion’s head and sighs. “In the meantime, you’ll note that we’re currently without whelps….for several hours.”
“Oh?”
“Mm.”
“Ah. In that case, husband of mine, why don’t you make yourself useful and take me to bed?” Wrathion suggests outright, not bothering with being subtle.
The blond king snorts. “To have sex or to nap?” He starts laughing when Wrathion rolls his eyes and moves to sit on his lap. “Alright, alright, we can do both!”
“Good king.”
“Spoiled dragon.”