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Wrathion looks over at his husband and takes comfort in knowing that the blond’s just as bored as he is. The red and blue dragonflights have been arguing for well over two hours about the best way to handle the Nexus and Oculus. The main debate seems to be over whether or not the blue dragonflight is able to tend to the Nexus in such a way that the leylines are no longer overdrawn. Kalec mentioned that the dissolution of the Oculus may be the better method, as the levitating rings help focus the power contained in the Nexus, but Alexstrasza seems to be more inclined to rid Northrend of the whole damned Coldarra.
Wrathion looks over at Nozdormu, who appears to be avoiding his gaze. It’s frustrating to know that he’s still looked down upon by the older dragons, though Chromie also seems to be avoiding his gaze. Stellagosa’s engaged in the debate, being a blue dragon, so Wrathion doesn’t even glance in her direction, but Merithra smiles at him and rolls her eyes.
At least one dragonflight supports him.
He’s about to suggest they take a break for lunch--he’s starting to get peckish, which means his children are famished and driving their babysitters crazy by now--when Kalec’s head snaps up and the temple is rocked by a violent wave of magic. All the blue dragons present cast shields around the temple foundations, stopping the shaking quickly. Wrathion looks around at the others present and feels a growing sense of dread.
”Kalecgos, what was that?” Alexstrasza asks calmly. Oh, to be as stoic as she in the face of the unknown.
Kalec looks paler than normal and his eyes are full of panic and confusion. “Something just brought down the whole of the Oculus, destroying it and the Nexus.”
Wrathion is curious as to what could be so powerful, but catches several bronze dragons, including Nozdormu and Chromie, looking in his direction.
He knows what could be so powerful.
Very quietly, he asks Nozdormu, “Where are my whelps?”
“Wrathion…”
“Where are my children?!” He shouts, feeling Anduin by his side with an equal amount of confusion and worry.
Nozdormu stands. “They’re in the Coldarra.”
-
Varian shivers against his best friend, the blue dragon named Andagos, claws digging into the earth as he tries to keep his rapidly created shield in place. He can hear the sniffling of his terrified siblings, some of whom were injured in the collapse. He doesn’t look over at Atraxia’s unconscious form as tears stream down his face. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he chants mentally.
It had all been just a bit of fun! They’d heard the adults arguing over the Nexus when they’d been racing around the temple, and Andagos had thought to bring them there to show them what it looked like. They’d slipped away from their babysitter--not difficult, as they were more interested in books than whelps--and flown to the Nexus. Varian had thought that it would be simple enough to have the earth consume it, and then he and his siblings could be back with their papa and be cuddled and warm and happy!
The second Andagos and the rest of the blue whelps that had come had rerouted the leylines, everything had gone wrong. Varian and Atraxia had tried to compensate for the instability by using their plan to fill the caves with raw earth, but the conflict created between the two schools of magic had collapsed the entire system. The rings of the Oculus had followed soon after, and only a quick shield by the blue dragons, reinforced by Varian and his siblings, had saved them from being squashed like insects.
Now the magic is beginning to fail. The first hole, where the rock had fallen and hit Atraxia, had been quickly patched by the black whelps, but their powers weren’t fully developed and were fading quickly after already being mostly drained. Varian nuzzles against Andagos, petrified that it would be the last thing he’d do.
Just as he’s thinking this, he hears some angry scrabbling at the rocks above them and a voice he’s known since he was an egg.
”I don’t care, I can feel them down there!!! Let me go!”
Varian squeaks, then roars, “PAPA!!!”
“Varian!! We’re coming, my darling, hold on!!” It sounds like more adults start digging as well, and the whelps all flinch when the sunlight finally penetrates into their shields.
”Papa!!” Varian shouts again, seeing his face peering down at them, scales covered in dirt and dust. “Papa, the shields!”
Wrathion is moved out of the way, and the whelps see their uncle Kalecgos’ head appear. Shortly thereafter, a stronger shield forms around them, and the whelps fall over, exhausted. They’re retrieved quickly, all sobbing violently. Nothing is said then, as they’re gathered up and flown back to the temple, but Varian can feel his papa’s emotions and makes himself as small as possible.
-
Three days later, the black whelps return to Blackrock, mostly unscathed except for a few bruises and sprained tails. Atraxia had a concussion, healed quickly by their Aunt Merithra, but otherwise was fine. Varian lands next to his papa, knowing that he needs to stay behind while his siblings disperse.
It had been his idea.
He could have gotten them all killed.
He watches his father shoo his siblings into the mountain and wishes he could join them. The tiny whelp looks up at his papa and sighs. “Papa, may I speak with you?”
“You may.” The older dragon’s tone is tired but holds an undercurrent of anger that makes Varian nervous.
He ducks his head. “Papa, it was my idea. I told Andagos that there was no reason we couldn’t do what you were arguing about on our own. That we had enough raw, unchecked power to do it. That we’d be praised and get lots of treats for being so smart!” He makes a distressed sound. “I’m sorry, Papa.”
The other dragon sighs and shifts down to his human form, scooping Varian up in his arms as he walks over to sit on the throne. “You, my beloved, silly, foolish son, have been punishing yourself enough. Andagos told us everything, under duress of course.”
“What’s duress?”
“It means we interrogated him, my darling. We forced him to tell us, using…persuasive means. He wasn't hurt, don't worry.” Wrathion explains.
“Oh. But…am I in trouble?” Varian asks, still not looking at his papa.
Wrathion chuckles lightly. “More than you know, you little nuisance. But not the way you think you are. Yes, I am very angry with the situation, but not with you. If your sitter had been doing their job, none of this would have come to fruition. If we had come upon the obvious decision earlier, you wouldn’t have heard us arguing. And yes, if you had stopped to think for a minute, you likely wouldn’t have gone….though that’s up for debate. You are my son, after all.”
”I could have killed them…” The whelp wails, sniffling into his papa’s sleeve.
“Yes, you could have. But you didn’t, so we’ll not dwell on that. You understand that your actions could have had a very different outcome, and that’s punishment enough in that regard.” He’s brought up to be kissed by the older dragon. “But I will be tripling the amount of training you get with Ebyssian from now on.”
Varian sniffles. “Why?”
“Because someone needs to teach you how to control those powers of yours, you rotten little whelp!”
“Oh.”
Wrathion rolls his eyes and leans forward to blow a raspberry on Varian’s stomach scales. The whelp shrieks and giggles. “There, that’s better. I’m impressed, V, but if you ever do something like that again, I’m throwing you off this mountain, understand?”
The nickname makes Varian giggle again, an indication that he’s been forgiven. “Papa, I can fly!”
“Really? Why does no one tell me these things?!” Another raspberry has both of them laughing. “Well, then I’ll dunk you in the harbor.”
“Papa, no!!!”
”Papa, yes!” Wrathion pets his son’s scales and sighs. “You’re going to make me go gray, you know that?”
Varian grins. “You can just shapeshift them away.”
”….Menace.”