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The brief letter, tucked in an inner pocket of Wrathion's overcoat, felt weighty and warm. Like it might burn a hole through the fabric at any moment.
Dear Wrathion, it began.
I hope this missive finds you well, it continued.
It had, in fact, found Wrathion well. With the whole ordeal of Amirdrassil well behind them, it meant the dragon was actually in fine spirits when the letter had reached him. By the time he'd reached the end of the letter, he'd been practically giddy.
I know that this message may not be welcome; in fact, I understand if it's not, the letter went on, completely misunderstanding how it would be received.
However, I have been reminded by someone who is becoming close that I have not been a very good friend, and I would like to rectify that. I do not know if you still consider what we have—if we have anything still—to be friendship, but I would like to hope you do.
Wrathion did.
Khaz Algar is a place full of wonders and dangers, the author wrote, switching subjects as if afraid to dwell on the topic of his relationship with Wrathion. I believe you would find the caverns of Azj-Kahet of particular interest, but I have found some solace in Hallowfall. I've been here for some time, and it is beautiful and full of rich history.
I do not expect any response after the silence I have subjected you to, but I have enclosed the details of where a reply may be sent nonetheless.
The letter was signed with a bit of a royal flourish: Ever your friend, Anduin Wrynn
The brevity of the letter made it easier for Wrathion to memorize it, easier to keep it folded in his pocket away from prying eyes.
As soon as he'd finished reading it, he had known what he had to do.
It had been nearly Winter Veil by the time the letter had found him, and who knew how long since it had been drafted? The timing was a blessing in disguise, though: with families traveling to reunite for the holiday, it would be trivial to disappear into the gathering crowds as Wrathion made his way to Khaz Algar.
He traveled carefully, disguising himself so as not to draw any unwanted attention as he snuck into Stormwind and utilized the portal to Dornogal there, rather than try to book sea or air passage. Flying there under his own power was also out—the point was to maintain a low profile, after all—so traveling via portal was really his only option.
Thankfully, everything went off without a hitch and Wrathion soon found himself standing in the Foundation Hall in Dornogal. The high ceilings caused every little noise to echo, including his steps as he made his way out of the grand hall and into Dornogal proper.
The city wasn't quite as impressive as Valdrakken, but then again, what city was? Without the benefit of draconic architects the buildings were square and bland, though even Wrathion had to admit that the quality of the stonework was impeccable. Oddly, there were also scattered Winter Veil decorations about, perhaps a testament to the influence of the many adventurers coming and going through the city.
It didn't take Wrathion long to secure himself a local guide: a tall-by-dwarven-standards Earthen woman with an impressive beard named Hilde. When Wrathion approached her, she assured him of her ability to be discreet and informed him that the travel time to his destination would not be too long.
The Coreway—the main means of reaching the other areas of Khaz Algar—was still under reconstruction, but that didn't mean there was no way for Wrathion to reach Hallowfall. His guide assured him that there were several points of safe passage to the areas below the Isle of Dorn that would let him travel to Hallowfall with minimal issues. His destination was Mereldar, the capital of Hallowfall. His sources, combined with the information from the letter, said that he'd find what—whom—he was looking for there.
It didn't take him long to get to the Ringing Deeps and onto the trade route that led from there to Mereldar, and the trip was as pleasant as could be expected given that Wrathion was traveling like a common individual and not as the Black Dragonflight's ambassador. Coming into Hallowfall, though, he could see the beauty that Anduin had briefly described in his missive. The glowing crystal suspended from the cavern's ceiling suffused everything with its warm glow.
Wrathion could see why Anduin might like it here. The scenery was almost idyllic, save for the stray Nerubian or creatures he learned were called kobyss. There was a fragile sense of peace to the place.
Mereldar itself was a bustling place, with traders coming and going, military drills happening, and the delighted shrieking of children playing in the streets. There were no Winter Veil decorations here; most of the cross-cultural exchange appeared to have happened on the surface and hadn't percolated down here just yet.
That was fine, though. Wrathion didn't need any fancy decorations for what he had planned.
The tavern in Mereldar—the Empire's Edge—was not difficult to find, sprawling as it was. This was where he parted ways from Hilde; he wasn't particularly keen on the idea of a stranger tagging along on this last leg of his mission. He strode into the inn with an air of confidence that he mostly felt; there was a small part of him that wasn't certain how his actions would be taken. But he waved that thought off. It wouldn't do to bring that kind of doubt into this situation.
The innkeeper was a dark-skinned Arathi woman with a kind-looking face whose eyes lit up when she saw Wrathion walk in. "It's not often that I see a new face around here… welcome!" she greeted him warmly. "What can I get for you?"
Wrathion put on his most winning smile. "I'll have a bottle of your finest wine," he said, hoping that his willingness to spend some coin in her establishment would loosen her tongue a little. "And a favor, if you'll indulge a weary traveler. I'm looking for someone, you see. A traveler from the surface, like myself, who goes by the name of Anduin."
"Oh, you mean the gentleman who meets Faerin Lothar for a few games of Light's Gambit on the regular?" the innkeeper asked, expression softening as she spoke. "You're in luck, they're usually in here every other afternoon to play. If you wait an hour or so, they're bound to show up."
"Wonderful!" Wrathion said, not having to feign his delight. He set more coins than were strictly necessary on the bar as payment for his order. "I'll take an order of whatever hot meal you have on the menu with my wine."
The innkeeper smiled and nodded. "Of course. Take a seat and I'll have it right out for you."
Wrathion chose a seat not too far from the door to the tavern. Not so close as to be immediately visible from the entryway, but not so far away as to lose visibility on it. His food and wine (a hearty stew with dry red) arrived at his table not long after Wrathion claimed his spot. He consumed both at a leisurely pace as he watched the entrance to the tavern like a hawk.
He waited for a bit, casually taking in the sights and sounds of his surroundings: someone at the bar named Mylton (who appeared to be a regular) made gruff conversation with the innkeeper; a few groups of people chatted by the notice board outside the tavern's entrance; revelers upstairs sang a few bawdy songs.
And then Wrathion saw him. The man who entered the tavern was not the ruler that Wrathion remembered. He'd abandoned his priestly vestments, shorn off his blond hair, and grown a beard, but Wrathion would know him anywhere. Anduin gave the tavern a cursory glance as if looking for someone (this 'Faerin,' perhaps?) and, not finding them, he claimed a seat on the opposite side of the door. If he noticed Wrathion, he gave no indication. Perfect.
Now was his chance. Wrathion pushed his chair back from the table he'd been sitting at and stood. He'd not had nearly enough wine to go to his head, but he still felt a little giddy as he looked across the room at his target. It had been years since they'd last seen each other, and their relationship at that time hadn't exactly been on the best of terms. But the fact that the letter referred to them as friends buoyed Wrathion's spirits as he strode towards Anduin.
The human didn't notice his approach at first, but he glanced up when it became clear that Wrathion was headed directly for him. The dragon reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small box that he'd carried with him from Stormwind, which he then set before Anduin on the table.
"Great-father Winter sends his regards," Wrathion said lightly with a smile. "I recall you mentioning that you had a soft spot for Winter Veil cookies, so I thought you might like some to celebrate the season. Straight from Great-father Winter's helpers."
Anduin blinked owlishly, first at the box that appeared before him, then up at Wrathion. It took a few moments before recognition bloomed on his face, during which Wrathion was mildly concerned he'd just gifted cookies to the wrong person. But then Anduin's thoughts appeared to catch up with what he was seeing and he blurted out, "Wrathion?!"
It… wasn't exactly the warm welcome that the dragon had been hoping for, but it certainly beat what he'd secretly been fearing. He once again donned his most winning smile and swept into an exaggerated bow. "At your service."
Anduin gaped at him for a moment before saying, "How did you…?"
"You didn't really think I wouldn't be able to find you after you sent that letter, did you?" Wrathion asked with a cheeky grin. "I'd be a terrible friend if I didn't reply, and I thought the season demanded a more personal touch than just a simple letter. Aren't you going to open your gift?"
Anduin just stared at him, gobsmacked, for a moment before he rose from his chair. For a brief moment Wrathion wondered if Anduin was about to punch him again, but the blow didn't come. Instead, Anduin favored him with an expression Wrathion couldn't quite read, then grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in for a crushing hug.
It took a moment for what was happening to register, at which point Wrathion brought his arms up to loosely return the human's embrace. It was a far better outcome than getting decked again, but it was also more shocking than getting decked. Still, Wrathion wasn't about to complain about having Anduin's arms around him, even if it meant that it was a little difficult to breathe.
After a few moments, Anduin took a step back, but his hands remained on Wrathion's shoulders as if concerned that the dragon might try to slip away. He studied Wrathion's face for a little longer, his expression still unreadable, before saying, "You look… well."
"I am," Wrathion agreed, trying to keep his tone light and airy rather than bristling at the hesitation in Anduin's words. "Based on your letter, I can only assume you are the same?"
At his question, Anduin's expression softened a little. "In a manner of speaking. Here, sit with me. Why don't you tell me about what you've been up to these past few years?"
I'd really rather know what you've been up to since you dropped off the face of Azeroth, Wrathion thought, but he kept the sentiment to himself. This moment felt tenuous, not the least of which because he couldn't quite tell what was going through Anduin's mind at the moment. Instead of speaking his thoughts, the dragon just smiled, nodded, and pulled out the chair next to the blonde’s so he could do as the human had requested. Anduin, too, sat back down.
"Oh, this and that," Wrathion couldn't help but deflect a little. "Things on the Dragon Isles have kept me busy, but it felt right to take a break to pay an old friend a visit for the holiday season."
He offered up a rakish smile, which Anduin slowly returned, an expression that further softened the lines of his face. "You'll have to tell me everything," Anduin said, seemingly genuinely interested.
"We'd be here all evening," said Wrathion with a wry chuckle. "Why don't you tell me a bit about what you've been up to all this time?"
"Oh, this and that," Anduin said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Mostly just… wandering, if I'm being honest." The brief hesitation spoke volumes; the gulf between what had actually been going on and the word 'wandering' must have been vast.
"I'm sure you've seen plenty of wonderful sights," Wrathion said, trying to steer the conversation away from potentially fraught territory. "You'll have to tell me everything."
Anduin huffed out a laugh of his own. "I don't think we'd be here all evening, but I'm sure we could find more interesting things to talk about." He paused, tone sobering a little and his expression shifting to something a little more hesitant. "I'm glad you got my letter. I was a little concerned it might not find you."
"And I'm glad it did." Wrathion's words were warm, but also a hint more serious. "It's been far too long, old friend."
"'Old friend?'" came a new voice, that of a woman. Wrathion had been so focused on Anduin that he hadn't heard her approach. "You didn't mention that you were going to have company! We can always postpone our game."
The source of the interruption was a brown-skinned woman with short, tightly coiled hair, pointed ears, and only one arm, which held a lacquered box of some sort. Judging by the fact that she expected to play a game with Anduin, Wrathion could only assume that this was the 'Faerin' that the innkeeper had mentioned.
"Don't blame Anduin for not telling you," said Wrathion, once again turning up the charm. "I was just passing through and thought I'd surprise him with a visit for the holiday. Faerin Lothar, I presume?"
The woman—Faerin—nodded. "I am. You've got me at a disadvantage, though, as I don't know your name."
"This is my friend, Wrathion," Anduin said.
Faerin's eyes widened. "You mean—" here, she pitched her voice lower as if afraid to be overheard, "—the dragon?"
Wrathion flashed her a toothy grin, "Ah, so Anduin has told you about me!"
"Only the most embarrassing stories from our youth," Anduin deadpanned, but that mischievous twinkle was back in his eyes, and Wrathion knew well enough to tell that he was trying to hide a smile.
Two could play at that game. "Oh, so you told her about the time you—"
Anduin cleared his throat loudly to cut him off. "Anyway, yes, I've told her about you. She's the one who encouraged me to write you a letter."
Ah. So Faerin was the 'someone who is becoming close' that the letter spoke of. He supposed it made sense: she was pretty, and she seemed pleasant enough. While Anduin had spent the past few years 'wandering,' he was still the King of Stormwind and would need to find someone suitable to settle down and produce an heir with.
Thankfully, it was trivial for Wrathion to keep his sudden disappointment off his features and out of his voice. "Well, I appreciate your service, Faerin Lothar. I was beginning to despair that he'd forgotten about me."
"I think it would be impossible for anyone to forget about you," said Anduin dryly. Wrathion did not dignify this with a response.
Instead, he said, "Don't let me interfere with your normal plans. I'm told that you two like to play a game together… why don't you show me?"
"That sounds great," Faerin said cheerfully. "Anduin did say you'd probably enjoy Light's Gambit."
Wrathion arched an eyebrow and glanced at Anduin. "Did he now?"
Anduin coughed. "Yes, well. I think I'll go order us something to drink, if you want to get the board set up?"
*
The afternoon passed pleasantly. Anduin had been correct: Wrathion did enjoy learning the basics of Light's Gambit, and he enjoyed watching Anduin play it. Anduin ordered them drinks, and Wrathion shared his bottle of wine with the table, which meant that everything was pleasantly warm by the time the afternoon bled into evening. Eventually, Faerin packed away her Light's Gambit set and, after delivering hearty farewells to both Anduin and Wrathion, departed.
"You still have to open your gift," Wrathion pointed out once Faerin was gone.
"Oh. I suppose I do," said Anduin absently. He was once again favoring Wrathion with an unreadable expression as he spoke. Then he reached for the box that Wrathion had set down in front of him hours ago and started to untie the ribbon keeping it closed.
Suddenly, Wrathion was overcome by the feeling that his gift wasn't nearly enough. "It's just a small thing," he said.
Anduin removed the lid of the box and peered inside, his eyes immediately lighting up as he spied the contents. "I thought you were joking. Are these from that Jinxsprocket bakery in Stormwind?" He reached inside and pulled out a cookie that had been elaborately decorated to resemble a Winter Veil wreath, complete with a ribbon candy bow.
"They are," Wrathion confirmed, a small smile playing on his lips now that he knew the gift was well-received.
"I'm surprised you remembered," Anduin said as he began to nibble at the confection.
How could I forget? Wrathion didn't say. Instead, he settled on, "You talked about it at great length the last time we were in each other's presence for Winter Veil."
Anduin was kind enough not to point out how many years ago that had been. "Well, thank you. I'm sorry I don't have anything to return the favor…"
"Your company for the holiday is gift enough," Wrathion said, perhaps a little more earnestly than he'd initially intended. But the words were out there now, and Wrathion couldn't find it in himself to try to reel the sentiment back in.
He caught a glimpse of a faint blush on Anduin's cheeks before the human ducked his head. "Why don't we take a walk?" he asked. "I could show you a few of the sights, perhaps? Or we could retire to wherever you're staying."
"I haven't secured lodgings yet," Wrathion admitted. "I was hoping to get a bed here, but I hadn't quite gotten that far. I've had more important matters to attend to." His words were rewarded with a deepening flush to Anduin's cheeks.
"Surely lodging is more important to worry about than the rules to a silly game," the human mumbled, picking the candy bow off the cookie and examining it far more thoroughly than it deserved.
"You wound me," said Wrathion dramatically. "There's nothing more important than being with those you care about this holiday season, and you know I take human holidays very seriously."
That statement startled a laugh out of Anduin. "Of course, how could I have forgotten?" He popped the candy bow into his mouth and crunched on it for a moment. "Well, why don't you go ask Nalina about a room now, before the evening rush starts in full force?"
"Fair point. I'll be right back." Wrathion pushed himself away from the table and stood. On impulse, he laid a hand on Anduin's shoulder as he moved past him. "Don't wander off, now," he said, only half-teasing. Then he brushed past Anduin before the human could respond.
The innkeeper—Nalina—was happy to oblige him with a room for a few nights, and even gave him a discount for being friendly with Faerin and Anduin. Wrathion certainly wasn't going to complain about that, but he would still be leaving a hefty gratuity. By the time he made it back to the table to collect Anduin, the other man had finished the wreath-shaped cookie and was admiring a tree-shaped cookie instead.
"You know, I always wondered how people could make something so intricate out of something so basic as flour, eggs, and sugar," Anduin said as he turned the cookie over.
"The artistic spirit is a force to be reckoned with," Wrathion said. "Come on, I've got a room now."
"Right." Anduin put the cookie back in the box and closed it back up. Then he stood and picked up the box and ribbon. "Lead the way."
They climbed the stairs, Anduin trailing a couple of steps behind Wrathion, and turned down a corridor to find the room that Wrathion had been given. It was hardly the most luxurious place Wrathion had slept, but it was hardly the worst place he'd stayed, either. It had a serviceable-looking bed on one side of the room, a trunk for stashing personal items, a nightstand, and a small desk and chair.
Wrathion gestured widely to the open door. "After you."
Anduin shook his head, but he was smiling as he strode past Wrathion and claimed a space at the edge of the bed, leaving the chair for Wrathion. He set the box of cookies on the nightstand and looked at Wrathion expectantly.
The dragon was fairly certain that the point had been to leave the room's sole chair open for Wrathion's use, but, unfortunately for Anduin, the spirit of mischief had its hooks in Wrathion's thoughts. He breezed past the chair and sat on the bed next to Anduin, letting their knees bump into each other. Anduin looked startled for a moment before covering it with another expression that Wrathion couldn't read.
(He found himself wondering what had happened to turn Anduin from a very nearly open book into this, but he dared not ask, unsure if he was ready for an honest answer.)
The pair of them lapsed into a silence then that Wrathion couldn't tell whether it was companionable or not. Anduin kept his gaze fixed on his hands, which were folded in his lap, and Wrathion tried not to be too obvious about observing Anduin.
Finally, the human broke the silence. "Wrathion, I… I'm sorry."
"Whatever for?"
Anduin snorted. "What's not to be sorry for?" he muttered. "I shouldn't have disappeared on you. You deserved to know what happened."
Wrathion scoffed. "While I appreciate the sentiment, I know I didn't exactly make it easy for you to trust me."
"Perhaps not always," Anduin hedged. "But… What we had should have counted for something."
'What we had.' The phrase caught Wrathion off-guard. "And what was that?" Wrathion asked gently, not wanting to jump to conclusions.
"Friendship," Anduin stated simply, and for a moment, Wrathion was sure he would leave it at that. But then he turned to face the dragon, all pretense dropping away. The expression left on his face was hesitant and raw. "Something more. If… if you wanted it, that is."
Wrathion's heart leapt into his throat. Surely Anduin couldn't have meant what Wrathion thought he did. But here Anduin was, searching his face for any sign he could find, and Wrathion found that he could not resist the temptation. Slowly, slowly enough that Anduin could pull away if he so chose, Wrathion raised one hand to cup Anduin's cheek.
Anduin did not pull away. He leaned into the touch, his eyelids fluttering shut. Wrathion took that as tacit encouragement and leaned forward until his lips brushed against Anduin's.
It was a very chaste gesture, but one that Wrathion had to admit that he'd thought about often. When Anduin tilted his head to deepen the kiss, he felt his heart skip a beat. Anduin's lips tasted sweetly like cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. Wrathion let his own eyes drift closed so he could savor the moment before it passed.
When Anduin leaned back, Wrathion opened his eyes again to see that the human was smiling. Still… "What about Faerin?" Wrathion asked carefully.
"Faerin is a good friend who taught me that I was mistaken about many things," Anduin said goodnaturedly. "Among those being the way that I froze you out."
"Remind me to thank her when next we meet," Wrathion quipped, matching Anduin's smile with one of his own. Then he leaned in to kiss Anduin again. This kiss was much firmer and more certain. Now that he knew that the action was welcome, it was difficult to resist performing it again and again.
Eventually, though, they needed to break apart. Wrathion rested his forehead against Anduin's. "Happy Winter Veil, my dear," he murmured.
"Happy Winter Veil," Anduin replied, still smiling.
There were still a lot of unresolved things between them, but in that moment, Wrathion suspected that they would find a way to manage.