Anduin attempted several times after that to heal himself further. Each time inched him closer to recovery. He slept most of the day, and was awake for most of the night. This frustrated him, but he adjusted, and he could adjust back. He tried to limit his healing sessions to not over exert himself and went about his life otherwise. Wrathion had adjusted himself too, and stayed awake through the night to keep Anduin company. Several weeks passed.

Each time Anduin had wanted to undergo the healing process again, Wrathion had seemed more excited than the last time. Anduin was slightly suspicious of the dragon's behavior, but kept it to himself. Wrathion had told him, finally, about the horrible nightmares he was having. Often too. They seemed lessened in current weeks, and Anduin suspected it might be the influence of the light that Wrathion had the opportunity to observe and encounter while Anduin practiced healing.

Each time Anduin woke from his healing sleep, Wrathion was by his side. He had progressed from pacing the room to sitting in a chair, to moving that chair closer to the bed, to...Last time, Wrathion had been sitting on the bed when Anduin awoke, stroking the soft blonde hair.

Anduin was becoming more practiced, and beginning to master this healing technique. He had learned that the "dream" state he entered was a recurring feature, and suspected it brought him, if partially, to another realm where the healing actually took place. It made sense to him that healing through the Holy Light was done by bringing a person partially into the realm of Light, which healed and restored, before returning it to the mortal realm. That is what made this so dangerous. If he stayed in that realm, he would leave his body forever.

What made less sense to Anduin is the fact that Wrathion had accompanied him to this dream-like state each time. If Anduin was the only one being healed by this method, why did Wrathion come to the realm of Light with him?

But the dreams were becoming less like dreams by now. Often he would see traces of the room or the bed in which he lay as he healed. Between pillars of fire, and soft musical chiming, Anduin could make out Wrathion's face, a pillow, the shudders of the window. Here and there he would feel Wrathion's touch, interrupting his spell casting when it had gone on long enough. A hand holding his, or on his arm...or his cheek.

It was comforting in a way. For all his suspicions of Wrathion, Anduin was begining to like the dragon more and more. He was becoming a closer and closer friend. Wrathion must have felt the same. He had become increasingly affectionate over the last few weeks. Hugs were often between them as a greeting. Always gentle and careful of Anduin's injuries. Wrathion had taken to being Anduin's new crutch. He supported him when Anduin needed to walk, especially up or down the stairs. Anduin was being pampered like a prince again.

He almost didnt want it. He was very happy to have attention, and especially glad of Wrathion's company, but his short travels through Pandaria had given the Prince of Stormwind a sense of adventure. He no longer wanted to be a spoiled prince. His father had been so overly protective Anduin had never learned about the risks he might have taken on his own. And now Wrathion was being protective too.

Morning drifted around the princes. They had become close enough to remove the room divider at night. It collected dust in a corner while they stayed awake playing games or discussing the world, legends, myths, Anduin's family, but never Wrathion's..."family." It was an uncomfortable subject for them both and they were happy to avoid it.

Anduin told Wrathion stories he had heard as a child. Daring deeds of adventurers across the world, saving lives, and always ending up in romance, even if that was not how events really unfolded. Allyria and Turalion seemed to be Wrathion's favorite. Both heroes had been full of emotions, and love for one another. Anduin had said that, even though he never got to meet the man, the two heroes had borne a son who traveled outland. Adventurers would often come to brag their deeds to the King, and Anduin got to listen in.

Wrathion was facinated with the world, as one might expect a two-year-old to be. As much wisdom and maturity came with "dragon years" Wrathion still had much to learn. Politics intrigued him. Science and history and art were all things he knew he wanted to pursue, in time.

The sun peeked over the short horizon of the mountain, spilling light into the room. Anduin was becoming sleepy again and knew he didnt have much time to begin the healing spell. He and Wrathion decided to perform it soon, but as always, they were to eat breakfast first. Neither one was allowed to be malnourished by Wrathion's orders. It seemed overly protective to Anduin, but decided that the dragon was not sheltering him. He certainly did need the nourishment to perform the healing.

"You seem to be feeling better recently," Anduin said over a plate of sweetened bread and fruit, "About your...dreams, I mean."

"They have not stopped," Wrathion admitted, "but I believe I am handling them more appropriately now. I am becoming less concerned with them." Anduin gave him a tilted look. "Always concerned about the return of the Legion, Anduin, but less intimidated by dreams."

"Are you ever going to tell me what you are really up to? Adventurers visiting, you eating mogu tyrant hearts, dueling people to gain the blessing of an August Celestial?"

"No." A short response.

"I am worried about you, Wrathion," Anduin looked serious and thoughtful, "and for my people. For all the races of Azeroth."

"What are you talking about? You should know very well that I am worried for Azeroth too! Far more than the prince of one nation..." Wrathions words stung, but Anduin understood that the black dragon was concerned for the world, the whole world. All living beings were included. But Anduin also knew that Wrathion would sacrifice any of them to save the planet.