As a black dragon, Wrathion knew a thing or two about the shattering of things. He knew, for instance, that shattering was a catastrophe on some level-a shattered glass could be glued back together, but the cracks would always remain. A shattered world could be rebuilt, but not without scars.
He also knew that people were more forgiving of accidental shatterings. If you dropped a glass, people forgave you. If you threw a glass across the room, people looked at you as if you were insane. If an earthquake shattered the world, people forgave it. If a black dragon shattered the world, people looked at all black dragons with justifiable suspicion and anger.
Of course, it wasn't enough that his parentage was violent, to say the least. It wasn't enough that he'd been unnaturally aged, with all the knowledge of a man who'd seen generations of life on Azeroth but all the experience of a toddler, both innocent and corrupted in the same breath. People didn't trust him. And it wasn't fair.
These thoughts had Wrathion in a sullen mood as the days of November waned into December. The changing of the seasons went practically unnoticed in Pandaria, where the climate had remained temperate since Wrathion's arrival, now gaining on more than two months before. He and his spies traveled the continent, observing and chronicling what they saw, watching as the heroes of the Horde and the Alliance edged closer to all-out war and a shattering of their own.
Few forgave Wrathion for the Shattering his father had committed, but he had to wonder if these mortals would hold themselves to the same standard?
"Hypocrites, the lot of them," he complained to Left and Right one day, after he'd heard the last of the reports and was enjoying another of Pandaria's deliriously tasty mushan steaks. "They'll tear this land apart and then cry and blame everything but themselves. Sometimes-" He stopped himself. Sometimes, he wondered if his father hadn't had a point in his drive to destroy the world. Trying to keep the world from destroying itself seemed hopeless.
Right, who had already finished her dinner and resumed her place behind Wrathion, frowned at the prince. "You know better than that," she reminded him. "You've seen better mortals than the ones clashing all over Pandaria. You know they're worth saving."
"Are they?" Wrathion asked. His appetite had fled with the increasing gloom of his thoughts. "Sometimes, I wonder. They squabble like mewling brats over resources they could share, and in their fighting, they destroy those resources. And they never learn" He sighed, a plume of unintentional smoke curling up from his nose and mouth. "Uniting them so that they can save this world is hopeless."
"What about the human prince?" Left asked. She wore a begrudging expression, her old prejudices showing through her usually impassive mask. "Even I must admit that his efforts to end this war and bring peace to the land are impressive."
Wrathion's expression softened, the last wisps of smoke from his nose and mouth dissipating in thin air. "Yes. There is Anduin," he agreed. Since their last meeting, he'd kept an even closer watch on the human prince. Anduin's efforts to maintain peace throughout Pandaria were commendable, to say the least, and Wrathion now felt certain that the prince was the key to ensuring an end to the war and a refocusing of mortals' priorities on threats greater than they were.
And, that aside, Wrathion far too often found his thoughts returning to the memory of Anduin's arms around his waist, his scent almost dizzyingly strong. What would his lips taste like, Wrathion wondered, and immediately dismissed the thought, saying aloud, "If any hope remains for the Alliance and the Horde, it is in-"
Before he could finish his sentence, someone knocked on the door. "I'm through hearing reports for the night!" Wrathion called out to the hallway. "Bother someone else!"
"My lord, it's urgent!" said the voice on the other side, muffled by the great wooden door. Wrathion let out another sigh-and more smoke with it-and waved Left to the door, which she opened to reveal a mustachioed Gnome in black leather, an eye patch covering his right eye.
"My lord," the Gnome said, bowing low. "The Horde and Alliance fleets near the southern coast of the Krasarang Wilds. King Varian and Warchief Hellscream themselves will make landfall before dawn."
Wrathion stood, almost too quickly, and to the alarm of both Right and Left. "You're certain?" he asked the Gnome, who nodded once. Wrathion smiled. "Excellent. Left, Right... we're going on a trip."
Having anticipated this moment for quite some time, Wrathion already had transport waiting for them outside, in the form of a handsome kite, a wyvern for Right and a gryphon for Left (as he appreciated the irony). "We'll speak with Varian to start," he said, balancing carefully on his kite. "Humans do tend towards rational thought more than orcs do, present company excluded." He gave Left a nod, and she huffed indignantly but nodded back. At Wrathion's signal, the three of them took off, letting the wind currents take them down the mountain and across the verdant Valley of the Four Winds.
Wrathion had every intention of continuing until he'd reached the beach and the human king. He needed someone who would listen to reason. He needed to pull a particular string and tug the opposing factions together, even if only for a short time while they stood united against annihilation, and Varian seemed the safest bet in that regard. In other circumstances, with less at stake, Wrathion would gladly have gone after Garrosh, just for the challenge of it, but he didn't have time to-
A scent on the wind halted his thoughts in place and caused him to call over the wind, "Change in plans!" before unstrapping himself from the kite and taking his dragon form halfway to the ground and not far from Anduin Wrynn's horse.
It didn't surprise Wrathion in the least to see the prince traveling alone; after all, hadn't Anduin spent his entire time in Pandaria thus far refusing the accompaniment of Alliance forces? His solitude wasn't surprising, but it did make Wrathion smile, and the black prince had every intention of being stealthy and surprising, when Anduin gave a sharp tug to his horse's reins. He sniffed the air around him and asked, "Are you following me again?" Though the prince's expression was impassive, his voice held a note of a smile.
Wrathion forced himself not to deflate in disappointment, instead simply shifting into his mortal form and bowing to Anduin, a grin on his face. "Implying that I ever followed you to begin with, O Prince," he said, and Anduin wheeled his horse around to face Wrathion.
"I know you've been having me followed," he pointed out, patting his horse's neck before dismounting and approaching Wrathion with his hands folded behind his back. "I've had people following me since I could first walk. I know when I'm being watched."
Wrathion scoffed and chuckled, mimicking the human prince's posture. "I watch everything on this continent," he explained. "Especially those things that may further my interests. But no, I was not following you, though our destinations were likely the same."
"So you've heard, too, that the Alliance fleet is landing." Anduin frowned and dropped his gaze, his arms moving to fold across his chest. "I have to warn my father. When he learns what the Horde has done here, his wrath will tear this place apart. He must know of the Sha. We can't destroy this land with our hatred."
The string was pulled. "Then we're in agreement again." Despite Anduin's worry, Wrathion's smile broadened, almost ferally. "I must say, for someone who claims to stand so staunchly against everything I'm working for, you do fit so nicely into my plans."
Anduin's frown turned into a scowl. "Whatever your plans are, I still want no part of them," he sneered, and Wrathion laughed.
"You're all part of my plans, whether you want to be or not," he said, and Anduin rolled his eyes, starting back towards his horse. A sudden impulse struck Wrathion, however, and he darted out a hand to wrap around the human prince's wrist, eliciting a strangled sound of protest from Anduin.
"I need to go," he said, but Wrathion's grip around his wrist tightened.
"If I can have nothing else, O Prince, promise me this one thing: promise me that you'll be careful," Wrathion said and was surprised at how desperate his voice sounded, adding, "I can't have you interfering with my work, after all," to hide the sudden rawness.
Anduin's expression softened almost unnoticeably. "I'm always careful," he said, no longer trying to tug his arm free of Wrathion's grasp. "Whether it fits into your plans or not."
Wrathion chuckled and moved infinitesimally closer. "That's a promise, then?"
Anduin nodded, and when he spoke again, his voice cracked. "It's a promise."
No witty response came to Wrathion's tongue, nor any thought to his mind beyond his earlier wondering at the taste of Anduin's lips. With that thought, he pulled Anduin sharply to him and pressed his lips against the human prince's. Anduin inhaled in a hiss, the muscles in his arm going tense beneath Wrathion's fingers. He didn't pull away, however, and after a moment, Wrathion felt the pressure of Anduin's lips increase and part slightly against his as the prince returned the kiss before pulling away and staggering back towards his horse. Wrathion brushed a thumb over his lower lip and watched Anduin, who turned to look at Wrathion again before riding away. "It's a promise," he repeated.
"Then I shall see you again, O Prince," Wrathion said and bowed low, remaining that way until Anduin had disappeared into the distance and Left and Right had landed on Wrathion's either side.
"Change of plans again," he said, and his bodyguards groaned. "Send my best eyes to the Alliance and Horde base camps, and have them direct the strongest and wisest of heroes back to me."
"You're not going to speak with the king himself, my lord?" Left asked, and Wrathion shook his head.
"There's no need," he answered, smiling at her. "Not when the human prince will speak for me."