Auriana

Auriana dreamed. She was somewhere cold, and wet, and her heart thundered in her chest with fear. She was running, sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her, though she had no idea what it was that chased her. All she knew was that it was terrifying, and monstrous, and that it pursued her through the darkness with a single minded determination.

Strangely, Auriana could not have described what the thing looked like, knowing only that she had to run and never stop less the creature catch her. She saw teeth, and blades, and stripes; and all other manner of things that she couldn't have even hoped to describe. Sometimes, she thought she caught glimpses of something - or someone - familiar, but they never came close enough for her to get a good look, and so on and on she ran.

A wolf howled. The darkness swelled, and Auriana found herself falling. She gasped, and her eyes flew open.

The morning light streaming in through the windows was exceedingly bright, and it took some time for Auriana's senses to adjust to the abrupt change. She blinked, breathing heavily from her dream, and was somewhat surprised to find that she was lying in Varian's enormous bed. Whoever had found her had gone to great pains to see that she was comfortable, and she was all but buried in an enormous pile of blankets and furs. Someone, presumably the king himself, had slept beside her recently, and judging from the two chairs pulled up beside the bed, someone else had been keeping a vigil.

Auriana pushed herself painfully upright, trying to remember how she had returned to Stormwind Keep. She could recall some of what had happened over the last few days, though some events were hazier than others. Her body ached, though it was less sore than she thought it might have been, given the circumstances. Her wrist was rigidly bandaged, and she felt a slight pull in her chest every time she took a breath, but other than that she felt surprisingly well. She was clean, too, and dressed in a simple white nightgown; and if not for the assortment of bruises and cuts that marked her body, she felt as if she might have simply woken up from a long night's sleep.

My magic, she recalled suddenly.

Auriana's heart leapt into her throat, and she lunged gracelessly out of the bed. She stumbled slightly with pain and fatigue as her feet hit the cool stone floor, but she steadied herself well enough to limp over to the mirror and inspect her back. Being cut off from her powers by the magebane had reminded Auriana uncomfortably of her time in the torture chambers of Blackrock Foundry, and she prayed that whoever had rescued her had thought to give her the antidote to the insidious poison. Losing her magic always felt as if she were missing some crucial part of herself, almost like missing a limb, and she was desperate to see her powers restored.

Auriana slid to an awkward halt in front of the mirror, trying to ignore the nervous tremble in her legs. She slipped the loose gown off her left shoulder, and twisted slightly so that she might inspect her reflection in the mirror. There was a line of freshly healed skin, perhaps two inches long, that ran vertically down her shoulder blade from where the assassin's arrow had pierced her. The wound was surprisingly clean and pink, and Auriana realised that it would barely even scar. Best of all, the spreading darkness of the magebane was gone, and her skin had returned to its normal alabaster hue.

Her excitement rapidly mounting, Auriana reached tentatively for her magic, and she gasped as she felt the deep wellspring of her power rise willing to meet her call. There were no barriers, no insidious poisons leeching away at her strength, and she was so overwhelmed to realise that she could touch her magic that she didn't pause for a second to wonder whether she should.

Auriana reached greedily for her powers, only to regret her decision to do so almost immediately. Her magic flowed true for a brief moment, before her battered body simply collapsed under the strain. She tumbled forward, and would have hit the ground if not for a set of warm, strong arms that caught her at the last second.

"Varian…?" she whispered hopefully, only to immediately realise that the man that now held her was not her king.

"Regrettably not," Broll apologised. "You'll have to make to do with me, I'm afraid."

He smiled down at her as he gently set her back upon her feet, though he kept one arm wrapped firmly around her waist for support. The last time she remembered seeing Broll he had been in his bear form, fighting off dozens of assassins so that she and Anduin could escape. He had evidently been injured in the attempt, judging from the bandages that peeked out from beneath his loose tunic, and Auriana felt her stomach twist with guilt.

"You're alive…" she breathed gratefully.

"So are you," Broll observed drily, "Though I am not sure you should be out of bed. Anduin will be most displeased. What are you doing?"

"Inspecting the damage," Auriana explained, pulling her nightgown back up over her bare shoulder. "A bit of a habit of mine, unfortunately. I can stand, I promise, I just… I was so excited to have been cured of the magebane that I didn't really think about my other injuries."

"Your magic has been returned to you, then?"

"Yes. It's back to full strength, I think, although my body has some catching up to do," she winced. "Hence my collapse."

"You took quite a beating," Broll observed grimly.

He seemed rather reluctant to release her, and Auriana had to physically peel the archdruid's fingers away from her waist before he would let go.

"It's not as bad as I thought it might be," she admitted. "I mean, I'm a little dizzy. My wrist hurts, and I'm exhausted, but… I expected to feel worse."

"I am glad to hear it," Broll said warmly, his posture relaxing ever so slightly. "You had us all very worried."

Auriana smiled, but inside, her heart fell. Her memory of the last few days was mostly hazy, but she distinctly remembered that Varian had been the one to find her and bring her home, and she rather thought he might have been watching over her as she slept. Deep down, however, she feared that he held her responsible for what had happened in the Duskwood. She had hurt him, she knew, when she had hesitated to accept his proposal, and then she had gone and made it all the worse by exposing his only son to a hunting party of deadly assassins. Privately, Auriana would not have blamed him if he had been angry with her, though she had hoped he would be here for her when she woke.

"W-where is Varian?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light and nonchalant.

"He has hardly left your side," Broll explained. "He was even taking meals here. The maidservants were quite vexed with him leaving so many crumbs in the bed."

Then where is he? Auriana wondered, though she didn't voice the thought out loud for fear of sounding petulant.

It appeared that she could not hide her emotions as well as she thought, however, for Broll's eyes narrowed knowingly, and he placed a bracing hand on her uninjured shoulder.

"He was loathe to leave you," he assured her, "But Shaw came with news. He has been interrogating a captured assassin, and Varian was most interested in what he might have found. He would not have left you otherwise."

"You managed to capture one?" Auriana asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

"I was not there, but one of the search parties caught a man trying to flee," Broll elaborated. "This man has been held in SI:7 for the last three days."

Auriana winced. She had no sympathy for any of the assassins who had had try to kill her and Anduin, but she also did not envy the man in the slightest. The dungeons of SI:7 had a certain reputation, and she very much doubted that the assassin's stay had been a comfortable one. In a way, though, the assassin was probably fortunate that he had been left to the tender mercies of Mathias Shaw, rather than Varian himself. Auriana loved Varian fiercely, but she was not blind to the reality of who and what he was. He could be an incredibly violent, dangerous man, and she pitied whoever was so bold and so stupid as to bring harm to his son.

"I wonder if Shaw has discovered any useful information," Auriana mused idly, when she was suddenly struck by another thought. "Wait - I've really been asleep for three days?"

While she felt much better, her head was still somewhat fuzzy from the combined effects of her injuries, the poison, and whatever it was that Broll had given her in the first place, and it made it somewhat difficult to organise her thoughts.

"It was Anduin's idea," he explained. "He used his powers to keep you sleeping. As I understand it, he was concerned by the damage to your ribs. He was worried that you might be bleeding internally."

"Oh," she said. "Ah - I'm not, am I?"

"No, thankfully," Broll said, smiling.

"What about you?" Auriana asked, nodding towards the bandages that crisscrossed his broad chest.

"Shot several times, unfortunately," Broll growled, stretching his shoulder muscles slightly. "The magebane did not affect me as it affected you, however."

He did not seem overly concerned by his injuries, but Auriana felt awful nonetheless.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"It wasn't your fault, Auriana," Broll said firmly, shaking his massive antlers. "If anything, it's mine. I took you outside the bounds of the city."

He frowned, his brow creasing heavily, and Auriana abruptly realised that he felt as guilty as she. Broll cared for Varian a great deal, and he would have been as upset as Auriana herself to have let his friend down.

"In any case," Broll added quickly, "Anduin should be back shortly. He only stepped out to acquire some fresh bandages, and I know he is most anxious to see you awake. Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?"

"No, I'm quite alr…" Auriana started, only to cut herself off as she realised there was a question that Broll was uniquely qualified to answer. "Actually… I did have something to ask you."

"Yes?"

"When I was in the Duskwood…" she said slowly, "I was cornered by three assassins. I was dead to rights, actually… until, out of nowhere, a pack of wolves attacked."

"So it was wolves," Broll murmured, nodding thoughtfully to himself. "We saw the bodies."

"That's not the strange part, though. I was… completely vulnerable," Auriana said darkly. "I had no weapons, no magic, and no chance of escape. One of the wolves came up to me after the pack had finished slaughtering the assassins… and he did nothing. He just sort of… sniffed at me, and left."

"Really?" Broll asked, his eyes lighting up with sudden interest.

"Yes," Auriana said. "I know I was more or less out of my mind at the time, but... it certainly didn't seem like usual behaviour for a wild animal, much less a predator. Have you ever heard of wolves doing something like that?"

Broll leaned forward, staring at Auriana as if seeing her for the first time. His golden eyes blazed with curiosity, and he somehow seemed to be now looking past her, to something invisible and intangible beyond.

"They are curious creatures, wolves," he mused quietly. "Incredibly powerful, and violent when necessary, but also very much loyal. They mate for life, you know."

"That's… interesting," Auriana said nervously, "But I don't see how it relates to my question…"

"They are also are notorious for protecting their own," he said seriously, as if that explained everything.

Auriana, however, was nonplussed; though she also suspected that even if she hadn't already been drowsy, she still wouldn't have been able to follow Broll's train of thought.

"You've lost me."

"Perhaps I should put it this way - there is a reason that Varian is called Lo'Gosh," Broll said slowly.

He gave her a significant look, and Auriana scowled as a suspicion formed in her mind.

"Hold on... " she murmured, "You're suggesting that Goldrinn protected me… because I'm Varian's... mate?"

She scoffed incredulously, but Broll did not share her mirthful disbelief. He was staring at her with the utmost seriousness, and Auriana's smile slowly faded from her face.

"Broll… come on," she argued. "That's impossible."

"Stranger things have happened," Broll countered, shrugging. "Varian could not watch over you in person, but... perhaps in spirit."

"That's a nice thought, but…"

"Do you have a better explanation?" he asked swiftly, his long green eyebrows quirking upwards.

"I… well… no," Auriana admitted, "But.. surely a wolf ancient has better things to do than watch over my sorry self."

"Ah, because there could be no possible benefit to saving the life of one of Azeroth's most powerful sorceresses," Broll said archly. "Besides… I am certain none of us want to contemplate the man Varian would become were he to lose you. Goldrinn included."

Auriana shook her head, still skeptical, though she supposed it wasn't the strangest thing she had ever heard.

"Still, you were hallucinating, it's possible that none of this ever even happened," Broll conceded. "Perhaps you stumbled on the bodies, already dead, and your mind conjured its own explanation. Something to consider, however…"

It was a fair point, and it was certainly a more reasonable suggestion than the idea that Goldrinn had seen fit to intervene, though Auriana could not deny that the wolf had felt undeniably real. She frowned, and was just about to argue the point further, when the door to Varian's chambers opened, and Anduin stepped inside.

"Auri!"

Anduin's face lit up at the sight of her and he immediately crossed the room to her side, dropping an armful of bandages on the bed as he came. To Auriana's immense surprise, he held out his arms, and pulled her into tight but careful embrace.

"I'm so glad you're awake," he said earnestly, "Though you really shouldn't be on your feet."

Auriana glanced at Broll.

"I told you," the archdruid said, trying not to smile. "He fusses almost as badly as his father."

"I'm a healer!" Anduin protested. "I'm supposed to 'fuss'. Besides, Father is far worse."

"Well, I appreciate it," Auriana said honestly, smiling up at him. "You did an excellent job with my wrist. And the poison. And... the rest of me."

"It was nothing," Anduin said modestly, though he reddened happily at her praise.

Like Broll, he also seemed reluctant to let her go, and he kept both hands resting firmly on her waist as they talked. Strangely, however, Auriana did not find physical contact between them as uncomfortable as she once had, and she permitted his hands to linger.

"You're unharmed?" she asked nervously.

"A few cuts and bruises, but nothing too serious," Anduin confirmed. "You were the worst hurt out of all of us, save for…"

He expression grew grave, and he was suddenly unable to look her in the eye. Auriana's heart went still, and she began to fear that the real reason Varian had left her side was because he had been gravely injured in his attempt to rescue her, and neither Broll nor Anduin wanted to be the one to tell her.

"Varian…" she whispered.

"He's fine," Anduin said quickly. "Very angry, but… fine."

"Then who?" Auriana asked.

"Your bodyguard, Crowther. She was killed in the initial attack," Broll said sadly. "She took an arrow to the neck. I am sorry."

Auriana's heart constricted in her chest, and her knees suddenly felt weak. She staggered forward, landing gently against Anduin's chest as his hands slid up her back to steady her.

"Auri…?"

"She had a son," she murmured.

While Auriana had initially objected to having her own personal bodyguards, over time she had become friendly with the two women tasked to protect her life. Crowther had been a seasoned warrior, a veteran of several campaigns in Northrend and during the Cataclysm, and had been a particularly deft hand with an axe. She had tolerated Auriana's mild irritation at being guarded with more grace than Auriana felt she probably deserved, and had always been quick with a bawdy joke or a sly quip.

"I… excuse me…" Auriana muttered, surprised and overwhelmed by the strength of her own reaction to Crowther's death.

She pushed away from Anduin, ignoring the look of pleading in his eyes, and stumbled her way to the bath chamber. Her hands were shaking as she closed the door and turned the lock, and she only just managed to make it to the mirrored basin before her stomach heaved, and she was violently sick. Unfortunately, there was nothing in her stomach, given that she had been unconscious for three days, and she choked on the acrid bile that welled in her throat.

She's dead because of you.

Auriana glanced up, breathing heavily, and her reflection stared back at her with pitiless blue eyes. She looked awful up close; white as a sheet with big black circles under her eyes, and numerous cuts and abrasions all over her shoulders and arms. Still, she was alive, and Crowther was not, and her eyes welled with tears even as her stomach churned with guilt and shame once more.

"Stop it," she told herself firmly.

Auriana clutched the side of the basin with a white-knuckled grip, biting her lip as she fought back a wave of tears. She absolutely hated to cry, especially knowing that Broll and Anduin were outside listening, and yet she found she couldn't stop. Out in the Duskwood, she had no other choice but to be strong, but in here, her defenses crumbled, and she gasped as the pain of the last few days washed over her.

"Auri?"

There was a quiet knock at the door, and Auriana heard Anduin softly call her name.

"Please come out," he added. "I want to help you."

"I'm not sure I deserve your help," she sniffled.

"Nonsense."

There was a moment of silence, and then another knock at the door.

"It wasn't your fault, Auri," Anduin murmured, as if reading her thoughts. "None of this is your fault, or Broll's, or mine. It's the fault of the people who came after us. Please."

His voice was quiet, but it rang with a firmness and a sincerity that Auriana found hard to ignore. She also supposed that she couldn't hide in Varian's bathchamber forever, and she reluctantly opened the door to see Anduin's worried face staring down at her. There was no judgement or censure in his gaze, however, and he said not a word as he drew her into his arms and held her tightly.

Auriana fought to keep her tears in check, embarrassed by her emotions, but Anduin didn't seem to mind. He stood tall and steadfast, gently stroking Auriana's hair as she struggled the control her breathing. Together, they stood in solemn silence for a long time, before Broll quietly coughed to remind them of his presence.

"I will give you two some privacy," the archdruid offered. "Auriana - shall I tell Varian that you are awake?"

Auriana pulled away from Anduin's kind embrace, and hastily wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. As sweet and comforting as the prince was, it was his father that she truly needed, though she found herself hesitant to call him to her side. She was afraid that he was angry with her for risking Anduin's life, not to mention that she was loathe to appear before him so undone. Varian hated to see her cry, and she had no desire to further add to his stress.

"Ah… no, thank you," she said reluctantly, "He'll just come running up here, and it sounds as if this meeting with Shaw is important. We need answers."

It was true, though she certainly wasn't going to admit the real reason why she was afraid to speak to Varian.

"Are you certain?" Broll frowned, exchanging a surprised glance with Anduin.

"Yes," Auriana said firmly. "He'll… he'll see me soon enough."

"If you insist," Broll conceded, though he sounded very skeptical. "I will be just outside, should you need me."

He nodded respectfully to Anduin, and quickly made his way from the room. Auriana sighed, and rubbed at her eyes as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. Her legs ached, and while she was certainly no longer at death's door, she wasn't at full strength, either. Anduin, however, remained standing, and he watched her with a keen expression that was uncannily reminiscent of his father.

"It's not your fault," he repeated.

"Are you so sure about that?" Auriana said bitterly. "None of this would have happened if I had only had the courage to say yes when Varian asked…"

"No. None of this would have happened if there weren't assassins trying to use our deaths for their own nefarious ends," Anduin corrected her sharply. "Crowther was a warrior. She knew what she was getting into when she signed on to protect you. That was a choice she made."

"Her life should not be considered more expendable than mine because she's the guard and I'm the lady!" she snapped. "I hate this. I hate it."

Auriana hung her head, and her shoulders sagged as the tension of the last few months finally caught up to her. She was used to enemies that struck openly; enemies that she could see and fight, and she was sick to death of living under a cloud of suspicion and fear. She had tried to be strong for Varian; had tried not to let him see how much it bothered her, but Crowther's death was the last straw.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, to no one in particular.

She heard Anduin sigh, and felt the bed shift under his weight as he took a seat at her side.

"Of course she wasn't expendable. No one is," he said gently.

He reached out to take her good hand, and he gave it an encouraging squeeze.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked. "I… I like being a prince, for the most part. It means I have the power to help people in a way that most can only dream of. Unfortunately, it also means that people place a higher value on my life than the lives of others."

He sighed.

"Sadly, this is not the first time I've been the target of assassins," he said ruefully. "Ever since I was old enough to remember, I've watched brave men and women put their lives on the line to protect mine."

"I'm used to being the other end of that equation," Auriana murmured. "I wouldn't think twice about giving my life to save someone's life, but having someone do the same for me? It feels… wrong, somehow…"

"I once watched my own father sacrifice himself to save me," Anduin whispered, shuddering. "It was just after the Cataclysm. We were attacked by Twilight's Hammer assassins, on Remembrance Day no less. There was no question in his mind then, either, no hesitation. He would have gone to his grave with a smile, knowing I was safe."

"Well, protecting you is non-negotiable," Auriana said firmly.

"Because I'm the Prince of Stormwind?" Anduin asked wryly.

"No. Because he loves you," she murmured. "A-and… and so do I."

It was not something Auriana had planned to say, but it was the truth. Anduin's face lit up at her words, and while he did not say anything out loud, it was clear that he was deeply moved. He put an arm very gently around her shoulders, and affectionately rested his head against hers.

"You are worth saving, Auriana," he insisted, his bright blue eyes blazing with fierce passion. "Crowther obviously thought so."

"I…"

"Ah! No!" he exclaimed, raising a finger. "No arguments. Light, you're worse than Father. Stubborn as mules, both of you."

"That's not true," Auriana huffed. "He's far worse than I am."

Anduin broke into a wide, genuine grin, and Auriana couldn't help but to give him a small smile in return. He was such a bright soul, that it was difficult to remain miserable when he was around. He was also right, as he so often was. Crowther had chosen the path of a soldier, much as Auriana herself had done, and she had done so knowing the risks. Still, Auriana regretted her death immeasurably, and she made a silent promise to ensure that Crowther's son was well looked after.

Auriana let Anduin hold her for a while, and his presence did much to relieve some of the tight pressure in her chest. Eventually, however, she pulled away, and wiped the last tears from her eyes.

"Thank you," she muttered awkwardly.

"Any time," Anduin said, smiling. "After all… you're practically family…"

His brow furrowed in thought, and he looked suddenly nervous.

"Do… ah… do you remember anything what happened before you got shot?" he asked shyly.

"You mean, do I remember that I had decided to accept your father's proposal?"

She arched an eyebrow, and Anduin blushed.

"Ah, yes. That," he mumbled.

"You were worried I had forgotten?"

"Not that you'd forgotten, so much as… reconsidered," Anduin confessed. "My family is not a… safe… family, as much as I wish it were otherwise. And I can see how much this hurts you."

His face fell ever so slightly, and he suddenly looked very concerned.

"I haven't changed my mind, Anduin. Varian… he's worth anything this world has to throw at me," Auriana assured him quietly, meaning every word. "I'd take an arrow to the back every day if that's what it took to be with him."

"Please don't," Anduin said, blanching. "I mean, I appreciate the healing practice, but…"

"I'll do my best," she promised.

She chuckled ruefully, but soon grew serious once more.

"Assuming he'll still have me, of course…" she sighed.

"What?" Anduin exclaimed, surprised. "Auri… what are you talking about?"

"I… I put you in danger, Anduin. Whether I intended to or not, my actions put your life at risk," she said sadly. "I don't… I have no idea how to face him after that."

She looked away, and fought to control the sudden tremble that rose in her fingers.

"Auri… please don't think like that. He wants you, I know he does," Anduin said throatily, reaching out to capture her hands with his own. "He's been a wreck, these last few days, and it isn't because he's angry with you. It's because he loves you, and he almost lost you."

"But what if…"

"Ah! What did I tell you?" Anduin tutted. "No arguing."

His expression was light and almost playful, but there was a steely determination hidden deep within his pale blue eyes. He clearly believed every word he was saying, and despite herself, Auriana began to that he would once again prove to be correct.

"I suppose I ought to stop hiding in here, then," she relented, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. "I should go to him."

"What you should do is stay here, in bed. You're still injured, and you need your rest," Anduin countered, "Though I doubt you're going to listen to me."

He tried very hard to look disapproving, but it was clear that he was very glad to hear that she intended to speak to his father, and Auriana couldn't help but to smile.

"I have to listen now, too?" she said slyly. "You're asking too much of me, Anduin. I can listen to you, or I can avoid arguing with you. I can't do both."

It was a weak attempt at humour, perhaps, but it was still something more than tears; and Anduin relaxed considerably to see her fighting against the melancholy that had threatened to overwhelm her.

"So that's a no to the bed rest, then?" he sighed; a small, hopeful grin pulling at the corner of his lips.

He slipped an arm beneath Auriana's shoulders, and gently helped her to stand.

"No bed rest," she agreed, gritting her teeth determinedly against the pain of her weary muscles. "I need my king."