Anduin Lothar made his way back to the regent's quarters, his movements stiff and stilted. Today's training session with some of the newer recruits had been cut short when an overzealous dwarven warrior had shattered her practice sword during a sparring match. Shards had flown everywhere, injuring multiple people…including Lothar. The attending priest that day had healed everyone, of course, but the regent lord had decided to end the session. A rest would do them good. Everyone had been training hard since the invasion of the Orcish Horde; they deserved an afternoon off.

Besides, ending the session early would give him more time to spend with Khadgar.

Khadgar. His demanding, recalcitrant, and utterly beautiful mage.

Thoughts of his lover only prompted him to increase his pace, and he tried to ignore the residual pain that even the priests couldn't eliminate completely. It was the nature of magical healing, he supposed – it could close wounds and knit bones, but the soreness associated with them lingered on. He could live with it, though. Compared to what he'd been through in the past, today's injuries were minor.

Lothar's steps quickened as he approached the suite he shared with Khadgar. If he was being honest with himself, he would admit that he'd felt something stir within him the first moment he'd laid eyes on the younger man. He hadn't recognized it for what it was at the time, but once he did, he'd resolutely pursued his prize. He'd been thrilled to learn that the mage felt the same way about him.

Lothar stopped dead in his tracks outside the door to their quarters, however. There were strange noises coming from inside…sounds of items being knocked off shelves, sharp things scraping against the floor, and his mage muttering to himself and cursing. "Khadgar?" he called, through the closed and locked door.

Something else hit the floor at that, and then Khadgar's voice came stammering through the heavy oak that separated them. "I'm fine, everything's fine…what are you doing home so early, Anduin, are you all right?"

The warrior's brow knit. "I'm fine, Khadgar…the question is, are you?"

"Um…I'm good. Really good. Can you maybe go and get us something to eat for later? I wasn't really expecting you back so early…"

Lothar scowled. He could tell when someone was giving him the runaround, and Khadgar…Khadgar was easier to read than most. Plus he was attuned enough with the mage that the tone of his voice and the pattern of his speech made his distress obvious.

So rather than engage him in more conversation, Lothar simply unlocked the door and opened it…and was utterly stunned at the sight that greeted him.

"Anduin,' the mage began. "Before you say anything, let me tell you that I can fix this. Once my mana's replenished, I'll be able to both complete the transformation and then return to my normal self."

Lothar continued to stare. He couldn't help it. "You were experimenting with Atiesh, weren't you?" he finally asked, unable to stop gawking at the sight of his lover…his lover, whose raven-dark hair and eyes had been augmented by actual raven feathers, springing forth from his arms, back, and legs. Some of them fanned out behind him in an approximation of tailfeathers; and his feet looked more avian than human, with three talons at the front and one at the heel.

Khadgar wrapped his (feathered) arms around himself. "Yes. I hadn't realized how much mana the spell would require…I probably should have waited until I was at full capacity, but I'd been researching the staff all day and I was so excited to finally be able to try shapeshifting that—"

"That you decided to try something risky and potentially dangerous, just to see what would happen?" Lothar chided. "Is poor judgment common to mages in general, or is it something particular to the wielders of Atiesh?"

Khadgar was practically pouting (a sight Lothar had always found irresistible). "As I said, once my mana has been replenished it will be a simple matter to return to my normal self."

"Mm," the regent murmured, reaching out to stroke along the feathers of Khadgar's arm. "You look like a harpy. Can you actually get off the ground with these things?"

Khadgar nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "For a little while. That's why everything's all over the floor, the downdraft from the wings—"

Lothar cut off his explanation by kissing him soundly. There was a brief protest from Khadgar before his arms came up to embrace the regent lord, his eyes closing as he became lost in the kiss.

"I'm glad you'll be able to change back," breathed Lothar, running his fingers through the mage's hair. "You really do look like a harpy, you know; at least a male version of one." He kissed the younger man again. "Why is it that there are no male harpies, I wonder? How do they reproduce?" he asked, letting his hands roam over his lover's back. "You need to get yourself changed back, before they decide to carry you away and make you their king or something."

"Anduin," he panted. "Just shut up, and kiss me again."

Lothar smiled, and did what his raven-mage asked.