So sorry for the delay in updates, I had a full on week of crazy. I should be back to updating on my normal schedule from now on, so let me know what you think of the story so far!
Varian
Auriana returned Varian to his quarters very early in the morning. She had been quiet throughout the brief journey home, but he had been encouraged by the swift, tender kiss she had given him before she herself disappeared back to Draenor.
Varian found her damnably frustrating, though she now had a hold on him that he knew would not be easily broken. Auriana often reminded him of a flighty deer, ready to run at the slightest hint of trouble, and he was quite frankly surprised that she'd engaged in a relationship with him as long as she had. Sometimes he wasn't sure if she considered their relationship entirely physical, or whether she actually cared for him on a deeper level. Although Auriana had made great strides, she was still a very closed person, and he very much doubted she'd ever simply come out and tell him how she felt. Not, of course, that Varian was much better at declaring himself. He supposed he could simply ask her, but after the night's conversation he wasn't confident that he'd get any kind of clarification. In the end, Varian had lain awake, brooding about Auriana for at least an hour, before finally succumbing to a fitful sleep.
When he awoke in the morning, Varian had barely slept, but was nevertheless filled with a restless energy. He tried to keep his focus on his duties throughout the morning, but by the midday he had decided that he needed to do something physical to burn off the heated vigour that had built up inside him.
With nothing pressing demanding his attention in the afternoon, Varian decided to call a number of his best guards to the Stormwind arena for a sparring session. They followed him eagerly, always willing to test their skills against the legendary King of Stormwind. As he strode quickly through the corridors of the castle, Varian remembered the last time he'd fought in public had been he had taught Auriana the basic skills of hand to hand combat. For a brief moment, an image of the young mage flashed into his mind, but he forcibly dismissed it in order to focus on the task at hand. Varian was a grown man, and had no intention of pining after Auriana like a lovesick youth, not least because he doubted she'd have any respect for him if he did.
Once in the arena, Varian quickly gathered a dull practice sword and stripped down to only his breeches and boots. The afternoon sun was warm on his back, and he flexed his muscles happily as he made several practice passes with his sword. His guardsmen followed his lead, similarly stretching and moving in preparation for the fight.
When Varian was satisfied that he was sufficiently warm, he dragged the tip of his sword through the dirt to mark out a makeshift sword fighting ring about fifteen feet wide.
"The game is king of the hill," Varian said gruffly. "Victory by contact or by forced out. Any questions?"
The guardsmen shook their head as one. They were all well familiar with the drill, though they rarely had the opportunity to test themselves against Varian in earnest. He strode to the centre of the arena, raising his sword into a guard position.
"Who's first?" Varian growled wolfishly.
One of the taller guardsmen, a grizzled and experienced soldier named Garrick, was the first to take on the challenge. He charged Varian with savage abandon, crashing into the King with a powerful downwards blow. Despite Garrick's strength, Varian parried the strike easily, moving to the side with a dancer's grace. He grinned as he threw himself into the fight, relishing the way his muscles strained to resist each blow and the familiar smell of sweat and dirt. Varian was in his true element in a fight, and in no time at all he had forced Garrick out across the dirt line in a brutal show of superior strength.
"You're getting old, Garrick," Varian taunted, wiping sweat from his eyes as he prepared to face his next opponent.
"Perhaps, but I'm still prettier than you, yer Majesty," Garrick shot back, grinning.
Varian roared with laughter. His men had long ago learned that he didn't care much for propriety, and there were few things that he enjoyed more than banter among soldiers.
"What do you think, Ridley?" he asked, turning his attention to a pretty blonde guardswoman.
"I think you're very handsome, Your Majesty," she said cheekily, readily joining in the fun. "Sorry, Garrick."
"Well, I hope that won't stop you from trying to take me down," Varian said, beckoning her forwards.
"Of course not, Your Majesty," she said, darting into the ring with her sword raised.
Ridley was blindingly quick, but she lacked the physical strength to go blow to blow with Varian. Instead, she used her speed to strike at him and dash away in the blink of an eye. Varian was forced to change the strategy he had used to defeat Garrick, instead employing his surprising speed to finally score a successful contact against her chest.
"You're out," he said roguishly.
Ridley bowed out gracefully, shaking her head.
"I always forget how damn fast you are," she said ruefully. "Your Majesty."
"Next!" Varian demanded, his heart pounding eagerly in his ears as he lifted his sword once more.
The guardsmen continued to offer him challenge after challenge, but none of them were able to successfully dethrone Varian as king of the arena. Varian thrilled at the harsh burn of his muscles, and was thoroughly enjoying testing his skills against the variety of tactics the guardsmen brought against him. The fighting was doing wonders for his turbulent thoughts, and Varian thoroughly lost himself as he unleashed the wolf within.
Eventually, he had worked his way through the dozen guardsmen who had followed him to the arena without a single loss, but he still craved more.
"Two at a time," Varian commanded. "Come."
Despite some brief hesitation, the guardsmen came on as he ordered, quickly partnering up to fight him.
As if it would make a difference, Varian thought, entirely confident in his ability to overcome multiple foes.
As far as he was concerned, the soldiers of Stormwind were the finest in the world, but he knew they couldn't match his sheer talent and savagery in the arena. Even working in pairs, they all fell before the might of the King of Stormwind, though it was late in the afternoon by the time Varian finally called a stop to the fighting.
All the combatants were breathing heavily and fairly covered in sweat, including Varian, but spirits were high as the guardsman stood around to discuss the fight. Not a few of them made comments to Varian, praising his prowess and his ferocity, and he found himself explaining several of his more complex manoeuvres in great detail before the guardsmen finally took their leave.
Varian had vaguely noticed a large crowd gathering as he had fought, but he hadn't really paid them much mind. Now that he had finished the day's fighting, he turned his attention to the stands to observe the gathered crowd as they began to depart. A number of the younger guardsmen were in attendance, as well as a group of rogues from SI:7. There were even a handful of noblemen and women sitting in the upper stands, dressed as if they had come to watch a grand tournament instead of an arena scrap.
To Varian's immense surprise, Lord Rohas Anguile was one of those who had come to watch. His sharp patrician features were instantly recognisable even amongst the crowd, though he was accompanied by a lanky girl in a beautiful blue dress whom Varian couldn't identify.
As Varian moved to stow his weapon, Anguile made his way down into the arena, the girl following closely at his heels. Varian sighed discreetly, in no mood to deal with political machinations right now, but he supposed he didn't have much of a choice. He had never liked Anguile, considering him to be among the worst of what nobility could be, and he had liked the man even less since Anguile had made his enmity towards Auriana clear. Varian would be civil for the sake of peace in the Stormwind court, but he wasn't about to do Anguile any special favours.
"Well fought, Varian!" Anguile called as he approached.
Varian turned warily at the unexpected friendliness in the other noble's voice.
"Hello, Anguile," he said slowly. "What can I do for you today?"
"Oh, nothing in particular, we just came to watch the show. You were the talk of the castle this afternoon," Anguile explained smoothly. "By the way… Have you met my eldest daughter, Cathelora? Cathe, might I present the King of Stormwind, Varian Wrynn."
"Your Majesty," the girl said, with a flawless courtesy. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
She was very tall, with graceful, slender limbs and brilliant copper hair, and an air of wide-eyed surprise about her delicate features. Varian supposed that she could be considered quite pretty, but he found her somewhat lacking in comparison to Auriana's silvered skin and her clever, dangerous eyes.
"Ah… I assure you, the pleasure is all mine," Varian replied, nodding at her with more warmth than he actually felt.
The girl blushed prettily under his gaze, and Anguile smiled at her approvingly.
"Cathe will be eighteen in two weeks, I thought I would take the opportunity to start introducing her around the Stormwind court," Anguile explained. "And who better to start with than the King?"
Varian grunted. Anguile's intentions in showing off the girl were fairly transparent, and Varian didn't appreciate them one bit. He idly wondered whether Anguile hoped to marry her off to Anduin, or Varian himself. He supposed that Anduin was of an age where Varian should consider finding him a match, but if he were intent on arranging a marriage, he'd certainly do better by his son than Cathelora Anguile. The girl may have looked sweet and naive, but Varian wasn't about to forget whose daughter she was. He figured that she was either a pretty, willing dupe, or she was a snake just like her father. Neither option was particularly appealing, either for Anduin or himself.
Varian knew that he was quite unusual for a king, having never taken a second wife, and having been content with a single heir. In truth, he'd never really recovered from the loss of Tiffin, and he doubted he'd be so lucky in an arranged marriage a second time. His thoughts strayed vaguely to Auriana, though he knew if he were ever audacious enough to propose marriage to her, she'd run so far and so fast that he'd likely never see her again.
"I see," Varian responded, returning back to the conversation at hand. "Well, I hope you have an enjoyable birthday, Cathe, and that the court of Stormwind is to your liking."
He tried to keep his voice as neutral as appropriate, not wanting to give the girl any ideas.
"Father has promised me a lovely party," she said, her voice eager nonetheless.
"I should hope so," Varian said kindly. "Well... you'll both have excuse me, I'm afraid. As I'm sure you can appreciate, I need to go clean up."
He wiped a thick band of sweat from his brow to emphasise his point, and ran his hand through his unruly hair.
"Of course, Your Majesty," the girl said quickly, though Varian saw the briefest flash of disappointment behind her eyes. "I… I hope to see you around the castle soon."
Ah, he realised. So Anguile hopes to entice me…
"Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, my lady," Varian said noncommittally. "Good day."
He nodded stiffly at Anguile.
"Varian," Anguile said, his penetrating eyes thoughtful.
"Anguile," Varian replied, his face giving nothing away.
He turned away without another word, narrowly resisting the urge to shake his head as he collected his discarded shirt and strode swiftly from the arena.