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Anduin Lothar found Khadgar at the top of the Mage Tower after the grand festivities in Stormwind had died down after the coronation of Varian. The boy (technically a man, of course, horrifyingly brave and noble and astounding, yet, those eyes….) was nose-deep in a book and absently twirling his hand and muttering spells to himself. Occasionally, a shock of arcane magic shot out of the constant purplish-blue orb, but in general the young mage had a wondersome control over his powers and that prowess was evident as soon as Anduin had first seen him work.
“You were missed at the drinking halls, Khadgar.” Anduin’s voice startled the young man and he hastily hid the glow that was emanating from his hand. He was still a little antsy about being discovered since he had abandoned the Kirin Tor. He was all-too-familiar with the stigma surrounding mages. As he looked at the intruder, the warrior just caught the shining blue in his eyes recede to their natural deep brown, huge and wondering in a way that Anduin was now realizing were quite like a blushing maid’s.
The mage hummed in acknowledgement, but didn’t really respond. He was busy studying Anduin’s face, taking in the stunning blue in his eyes and the coarse facial hair that actually had filled in much more than the young mage’s. The privacy of Khadgar’s thoughts was enough for Anduin to press thoughts of blushing barmaids from his mind. No, Khadgar was much more suited to manhood than his feminine features would suggest.
“Midivh’s dead, and the king’s advisors are looking at someone to fill his role. I must learn more in order to--” Khadgar stopped because Anduin stopped listening. He pulled out a gnollskin and held it out to his friend.
“I'm too drunk for this.” A wry smile played at Anduin’s lips Khadgar tilted his head in surprise. To prove his point, Anduin swayed a little and now Khadgar could see the shine in his eyes by the faint candlelight that cast a golden glow around the two heroes. The younger man reached out and wrapped capable fingers around the skin, but his dark eyes met Anduin’s with trepidation. Khadgar gently closed his book and stood. He opened the skin and took a whiff, making a face but still raising the cap to his lips. He hesitated, and his soulful eyes earned a snicker from Anduin.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had a drink.” Unmistakable glee filled the warrior with the striking glare that the powerful wizard threw at him. Truth be told, Khadgar hadn’t had one, nor, for that matter, had he lain with anyone, but he was young and had been focusing on becoming a reasonably presentable caster, and so to his credit, he hadn’t much time for those sorts of things.
“By the Light, Khadgar, it won’t kill you. Bottom’s up. It’s only cider.”
Khadgar found himself drinking greedily from the skin after the first sip, so much so that Anduin had to step forward clumsily and tear the gnollskin away. Khadgar coughed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were bigger now, wide with realization. He shook out his limbs and cracked his neck, and all of a sudden a wide grin spread across his features.
“I understand why people like that,” he said, grabbing the book that was on the table and haphazardly shoving it back into its spot on the dusty shelves that hadn’t been touched in ages. Khadgar’s mind was very slowly filling with haze as the room spun a little.
Anduin merely laughed and threw his arm around the younger man. “The Lion’s Pride is where they put you up, isn't it? Pity, my home is much closer to the city and offers a much better view, at that.” He muttered a curse at the way Khadgar looked at him after they stepped through the portal to the rest of the city. The frustration in Anduin’s face tipped off the young mage, however, and he asked after him.
“No, no, I’m fine, Khadgar. It’s just...you’ll make someone very happy one day.” They had made it down the ramp and now stood out over the city. Lothar’s gryphon sat at the bottom, happily munching on unsuspecting critters. The beast yawned and Anduin knew what that meant.
“They say women are volatile. They've never met a gryphon.” The warrior helped his friend onto the beast and then climbed on in front of him. The taller man felt the boy wrap his hands around his waist and press his cheek to his back.
“M’ready,” muttered the great hero of Azeroth. It was exhaustion that tainted his words now, not drink. The way that he had found the parts of Anduin that didn't have plate armor and we're just fabric was too expert for a drunk, and the way that Khadgar was gently, absently massaging his hips was also a bit of an indicator. The warrior didn’t mind, for Khadgar was most definitely in need of affection and companionship. The poor boy was sent off at such a young age, and it wasn’t as if he had made any long-lasting friends in his brief stint with the Kirin Tor.
Anduin fisted his hands into the feathers of his mount, kicked his heels, and whistled.
They were off. The gryphon launched into the sky and let out a screech, and within a matter of moments, Khadgar could see all of Stormwind lit up with fireworks and the lights from people’s homes. Mostly, curtains were drawn and shutters were closed and the singing of revelers could be heard between the flapping of the gryphon’s wings.
“It’s beautiful, Anduin,” said the young mage. “Certainly a city worth defending, and a place you should be honored to call your home.” A rocket streaked by them and exploded in the air, sending glittering red balls through the darkness of the moonlit night.
Anduin nearly fell off the gryphon when he heard Khadgar muttering a spell. He plunged thier mount downward and they landed on top of the Auction House.
“No, no, higher! The whole city is going to want to see this.” Khadgar scooted forward some on the gryphon and Anduin could now feel Khadgar’s stocky thighs against his ass and hips. With some hesitation, the older man brought the gryphon up higher. Khadgar began the incantation again and this time, Lothar turned around to watch him. His eyes glowed that fantastic blue, and the arcane swirled around him. Tiny jolts of it flew around Anduin and he felt drawn to the mage’s skill. Watching him work, off in his own magical world, was stunning. It took him about twenty seconds, but all of a sudden, a massive blast of arcane magic shot directly up into the air. The gryphon lurched and Khadgar fell forward some, still channeling his spell. Anduin, without thinking, pressed his hands against the mage’s chest. It was enough to get Khadgar’s attention, and the electric gaze that was focused skyward now focused, icy and intense and unseeing, on the man before him. The blue receded but the arcane stayed.
“Look,” said the younger man breathlessly. Slowly, Anduin gazed up at the sky and saw a magnificent show. There was a moving image of King Varian in his royal regalia in brilliant color as if it were daylight, and swirling around him were “Long live the boy king” in all of the languages of the Alliance. The fireworks had stopped and the revelers had gone silent. All that could be heard was the flapping of wings and Khadgar’s excited breathing.
Anduin felt something that tore his gaze from the sight. Khadgar’s hands had covered his own, and the warrior had absently forgotten that he had left them on the wizard’s chest.
“I’m quite thirsty, if you have something. And hungry, too. The cider did some strange things to my appetite.” Anduin dared not to think of the innuendos that were falling out of the boy’s mouth. By the Light, he probably didn’t even know what an innuendo was, much less come up with some quite like that.
“I’m sure there’s something back home,” he reassured. The clock on the Cathedral of Light chimed midnight and there was cheering and more singing as Khadgar’s apparition exploded into tiny little shards of light that rained down all over the city.
“That was wonderful, by the way,” said Lothar. Pressing on, they were near the Keep now, which was quite dark. The King had retired for the evening two hours ago and was undoubtedly slumbering in his chamber. Anduin could only imagine what the boy would see during his reign. Surely, now that the orcs were invading, he would see much more than his father had in peacetime. And even Anduin, in pledge of his life for the King, would be facing it head on.
And with any luck, Khadgar would be at his side, grounding his rage and offering a soft heart to whisper to when the battle-hardened veterans had been asleep for hours. What had he been thinking, inviting this boy to his home? Having the boy warm by his hearth and fed with whatever he had in stock, perhaps even a goblet of wine in him...Light among men, what he would give for a domestic scene like that.
“Thank you. Are those sheep yours?” They had flown above the Keep and into the mountains and there, secluded on a cliff just outside of the city limits was a small home where sheep grazed. It was only a single story with a bed pushed into one corner, a hearth in the middle, a table with two chairs, and a cabinet that may have held anything from bread, cheese, and wine to splendid robes and legendary shields.
“They are. I’ve milked them, shorn them, and butchered them for years. Even their shit works well for the garden.” Anduin had to pause, since he wasn’t sure how the boy would react to swearing, but he’d be hearing much worse in time. Khadgar slid off of the gryphon and headed inside by no leave of Anduin.
“And she doesn’t eat the sheep?” Khadgar was leaning against the doorframe and looked quite at home there. A fire was already going in the hearth (undoubtedly magically set by Khadgar) and the mage was backlit, his pin shining in the firelight and his blue cloak looking rather worn and tattered in this light. The warrior wondered when the last time the boy had gotten new clothes was. He was no longer an apprentice, that was for sure, and so perhaps some proper robes were in order.
“No, I trained her since she was small. She still has some spirit in her. Come, I have bread and cheese, if that suits you? Under the cloth in the bowl on the table.” Khadgar followed instructions and set the table, brushing by some swords that were on the wall. Sheepskin rugs were everywhere, as well as wool blankets and fleece-stuffed pillows. Anduin Lothar’s hut was warm and nest-like, and Khadgar was happy to sleep here for the night rather than on a straw mattress with a single worn blanket and a down pillow with most of the feathers pulled out. Never mind hearing odd conversations and rather loud sex next door.
Following his host’s lead, Khadgar took off his cloak and peeled off his boots. His feet stank, but so did Anduin’s, so he wasn’t too worried about it. Khadgar also unbuttoned his vest and let it hang loosely over his shoulders, and he was glad to be free of the constricting fabric. He inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of wool, cheese, bread, smoke, and feet. But for the last, it was pleasant and within a few pieces of bread and a couple slices of cheese, Khadgar was ready to curl up in a ball in front of the fire and fall fast asleep.
“I haven’t a need to even wine you, and you’re ready to fall into my bed.” Anduin grinned at the young man before him and was met with a mildly alarmed look.
“Oh, I didn’t think you...I’m so...A-Anduin, I didn’t mean to--” Khadgar rose and started to button up his vest and he had his cloak in hand when a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder. Of course, thought Anduin, they boy couldn’t have even considered such a thing. But if he had responded positively, the warrior wondered where they would be now.
“No, no, my dear friend. I was simply making a joke.” The playfulness in those shocking blue eyes comforted the embarrassed mage and he blushed and sank back down into his chair.
“What was that about the wine?”
Three glasses of wine later, and the last one spent staring up at the stars, Khadgar and Anduin headed back inside.
“I won’t be taking the bed,” Khadgar insisted. “You’ve enough skins and blankets that I can make quite the nest in front of the hearth, unless you’re too warm? We are up a little higher, and so I was just a bit chilly and so the fire won’t go out unless you want me to put it out--”
“You talk too much,” muttered Anduin as he shoved a few sheepskins and blankets Khadgar’s way. Once again, Khadgar stripped down, but this time more thoroughly to his undershirt and breeches. He tried not to look in Anduin’s direction afterward, for fear of the bigger, burlier man staring at him with mocking amusement. Setting everything just so, the mage curled into a comfortable position and peered at his friend over the blanket that he had pulled to his chin.
“Thank you, Anduin, for being a wonderful friend.” A hint of a blush was shared between them, and the warrior could only really grunt in response. As Khadgar began to fall asleep, Anduin busied himself with cleaning up their plates and goblets. He tried to be as noiseless as possible.
When he had finished, Khadgar’s mouth was open and Lothar could hear his steady breathing. There was enough room, he observed, to crawl in next to the mage. It was a chilly night, after all, and the companionship that he was longing to give the young man was there for the taking. And so, muttering a curse to the bed, Anduin stripped down and stretched out next to his friend, turning so that the boy’s face was nearly buried in his chest. To the taller man’s delight, Khadgar shifted in his sleep so that they were slotted together, legs tangled and arms in such a way that they were effectively embraced. It was like this that Anduin pressed a kiss to Khadgar’s forehead, and then his scalp, and fell into the most blissful sleep he had had since the sun shone brightly over Azeroth and the orcs hadn’t planned their doom.