It seemed to take an eternity before the dust settled from the Divine Bell. Anduin writhed in pain underneath the sharp rubble. What little air he could still suck into his lungs despite the heavy weight pressing his chest down was deathly cold and smelled of dust and blood.

"I have to get out of here..." Anduin thought furiously. "Light, aid me! It can't end here... Not under this broken instrument of harmony, not today, not now... Oh fuck... Who knew death hurt this much?"

Anduin shivered, making little patches of dust flare up again around him in the light of the setting sun. He sighed in annoyance as the Light within him couldn't even soothe his pain anymore. He was exhausted, cold, and bleeding dry. An unknown bird seemed to call out, mocking his stupidity for believing he could stand against Garrosh alone. He had been stupid... And stupidity made him pay the ultimate price. The black spots before his eyes grew larger and eventually took over his entire vision. He was only vaguely conscious of the hastened flapping of wings nearing him.

"Great... I'm dying, and already the vultures come..." he sighed to himself.

"Let them..."

Anduin woke with a start when the cold water touched his forehead. Wrathion frowned as the Human Prince grabbed his wrist with feverish strength. His piercing blue eyes stood wild and questioning, and though his lips were apart not a sound came from them. Wrathion stared back into the young man's gaze with matching fire, though his did not spring from fever.

"You're getting into a lot of trouble, Prince Anduin... You're lucky I was there." he murmured.

Anduin seemed to relax a bit, still fatigued from blood loss and the magically induced fever. Wrathion shook his head and clacked his tongue disapprovingly. The Prince was an invaluable piece in Wrathion's game, sadly enough. His death would have been more than unfortunate. He couldn't help but frown when he remembered the scene where he had found Anduin, already cold as ice in a puddle of his own blood. His leg had taken most of the beating. It had taken him all of his knowledge of the Red Flight's healing powers to make sure Anduin still had both of his attached to him.

"Sleep, my Prince." he cooed at the blonde boy that still looked at him, filled with questions. "Sleep. You won't have any questions left by sunrise... That's a promise."

The fever was inelegant, but it served its purpose. Just like the many heroes that had passed over the floor of the Inn by the Veiled Stair, it served its purpose. Anduin wouldn't remember that it had been Wration that came to save him, or nursed him back to health. He would never know just how priceless his royal arse had become.

Anduin sat upright in the bed. Early morning had broken outside the bamboo walls of what seemed to be an inn's upper room. He perked his ears when he heard a soft snorting. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the other end of the room, he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

By the wall, in a luxuriously padded chair sat Wrathion. Or rather, hung Wrathion. His right leg was sprawled over the arm rest, his left arm hung limply nearly down to the ground over the other side. His turban had slipped down over his eyes so Anduin could only make out the dragon's lips and everything below it. They seemed to glisten, which puzzled Anduin until he realised Wrathion was drooling.

With a snort and twitch Wrathion rolled his head to the side, making the turban nearly fall off, releasing a large part of his half-long black curls down to his shoulders. His earrings seemed expensive and complimented his dark skin, making him seem exotic, powerful and wealthy... Had it not been for the drool and silly pose on the chair.

Anduin shook his head and averted his eyes. He shouldn't be watching him sleep like this. He started inspecting his own wounds. He remembered feeling weak before, like all of the Light he had summoned to aid him and heal his wounds had run out, but now it seemed to be at its regular strength again. As he traced his bare arms and torso he found bandages over his stomach, keeping thicker compresses to his back. Smaller scars adorned his upper arms, most likely from his run-in with the Bell. He didn't remove the bandages, scared that his actions might open up wounds he was currently blissfully unaware of and instead started checking his head.

His hair was wet, which struck him as odd. It was colder at his forehead, but he didn't remember taking a bath before going to bed. In fact, he didn't remember going anywhere after the Bell crumpled and crashed on top of him. He looked around the room again. The door was closed and he didn't see any sign of his usual guards being around.

"This is getting curiouser and curiouser." he murmured to himself.

His clothes were laying on a table not far from the bed. Always having been one to rise early, Anduin shifted his weight to slip off the bed, but gasped in pain when the weight shifted from his leg.

"So much for being blissfully unaware." he cursed. "Light! My leg!"

Anduin hissed, his eyes shut tightly as he focussed on trying to dull the pain with his magic. He breathed in deeply through his nose and out his mouth. He hadn't even noticed Wrathion get up, much less did he expect the dragon to be standing next to him, practically pushing him back into bed. Anduin stared at him defiantly. He expected Wrathion's anger in return, not a playful smile, a wagging of his finger and the tone of a school teacher.

"You shouldn't be up and about, young Prince." he chuckled. "Your leg still needs to heal."

"What am I doing here? And for that matter, what are you doing here?" Anduin demanded.

"Questions, questions..." Wrathion shook his head, his earrings beating the sides of his cheeks as he suddenly stopped.

He looked at Anduin curiously then and ran a hand through his silken black hair. He frowned, angrily almost, seeming to blame Anduin for something. He leaned close to the young Prince, their noses almost touching as he seemed to be looking for something in Anduin's eyes.

"What?" Anduin finally managed, unsure how to approach the dragon and dazed by his sudden loss of personal space.

"What do you remember?" the dragon asked.

"The Bell crushed me. I was dying." he breathed, uneasy under the dragon's fixed glare.

"Ah... Yes. That it did, and that you were." Wrathion hummed, leaning back again and sitting down on the side of Anduin's bed.

"What did you do to me?" Anduin demanded now he regained his composure.

At that Wrathion smiled again. No, it wasn't a smile, it was a smirk. A challenge. As if he were saying Wouldn't you like to know?

"What did you do to me?" Anduin asked again, reaching to pull Wrathion close to his face by his shirt.

"If he won't have respect for my personal space, I won't have any for his either." he thought and gritted his teeth.

Wrathion was taken aback by the sudden forwardness of the Prince. He was stronger than he looked, even after the fever and his near run-in with the afterlife. He laid his warm hand on top of Anduin's, not intending to lose this confrontation. He was aware now, and though Wrathion's power wasn't to be underestimated, he only had a limited amount of it. A limited amount he had spent on nursing the Prince back to health.

"If I tell him nothing, he does have enough pull to get my head on a silver platter... or at least greatly inconvenience my play with the Alliance. What if I told him... Just enough? Truth can be an even more valuable ally than lies..." Wrathion mused, then smiled decisively, more to himself than at the Prince.

"I saved you, Prince Anduin Wrynn." he started.

Anduin did not seem surprised, nor did he interrupt him. Though he was angry, he was also smart. Wrathion knew he had to watch what he said next, for the Prince was listening very carefully to his words.

"I saw you lying in the rubble. I pulled you out and nursed you back to health. You ran quite a fever. It's been three days since Garrosh Hellscream rang the Bell."

Anduin did not relax his grip. Wrathion was getting annoyed and shifted against his grip, only to have it tighten instead.

"Where are my guards?" Anduin demanded.

"I sent word for them." Wrathion lied.

He had planned on leaving the Prince in some fisherman's hut as a surprise. Pandaren were always peaceful and trustworthy enough to make sure that he'd have gotten home again safely. As Anduin narrowed his eyes and let his gaze slide down to take in the entirety of his face instead of simply glaring into his eyes, Wrathion worried his meagre lie was to be discovered. He should have used more detail, and as he drew breath to add it Anduin released him and sank back against the pillow.

"Thank you, Wrathion." the Prince sighed.

Wrathion rubbed his chest and quirked a questioning eyebrow at Anduin, who smiled.

"You saved my life, after all. I guess that means I'm in your debt."

"I... Don't mention it." Wrathion grunted and got up to stretch himself.

"But you-"

"Seriously. I have a reputation to uphold." Wrathion insisted and cracked his neck.

Anduin shook his head and shrugged. Wrathion yawned loudly and scratched his shoulder. He walked back to the luxurious chair he'd been sleeping in and picked up his turban, which had fallen down next to it. He skilfully and quickly adorned his head with it again and winked at the Prince, who crossed his arms and scoffed, unimpressed by his bravado.

"So, my liege. Do you think you can eat?"