"My sources tell me he has an unnatural ability to tell when people are lying. You must trust me deeply, body and soul, for this to work." Sylvanas' words were imprinted in my mind just as profoundly as the image of her hair fluttering in the north wind blowing through the plains of Mulgore. "For him to believe you're telling the truth, you need to believe it yourself. You need to believe that the words coming from your mouth are real."
"I understand, my Lady," I said, letting her voice wash over me and carve a space of its own in my brain. Everything depended on my ability to deceive someone who could not be deceived. I had to do the impossible without losing myself in the process. Our success, our future, it was my responsibility.
The echo of approaching footsteps disturbed my meditative trance, bringing me back from a world of devotion and faith in the deepest corners of my mind. I opened my eyes and blinked until they adjusted to reality again, memories fading away like shadows being chased by dawn. I had spent the afternoon locked inside my own head, trying to find a balance between conviction and the destruction of my identity, preparing for life in Stormwind. It would undoubtedly be as trying as the previous day—or worse.
I had a good feeling about Anduin. I was sure the insidious strands of my existence were already slithering into his brain, weaving the tangled web of our tale. I was sure he would let me stay. He needed me to stay.
And here he was now, surely ready to prove me right. Walking with the authority of a royal figure, he approached the cell, golden locks framing his young face, hands behind his back and a stiff jaw to set the mood.
"Your Majesty." I bowed my head and walked towards him, grabbing the iron bars on the door for comfort. The new cell did not have a window to confirm my observation, but I assumed the rain had finally stopped—his clothes were dry this time.
"My advisors have told me to send you away," he announced. It wasn't an order, but a simple comment. His shoulders were pushed back, lips in a rigid line, chin high as he looked down on me. Yet, there was still a unique warmth to his presence that he could not hide, even when he was trying hard to appear aloof and detached.
The High King of the Alliance was trying to play a game he could not win.
"Very well," I replied, gently inclining my head and stepping back into the darkness. "I will be gone as soon as you give me back my horse."
"Will you go so easily? Wouldn't that be considered a failed mission?" He pressed for a reaction angled at dismissing or confirming his lingering doubts, but I could not give him the answer he was seeking.
"With all due respect, Your Majesty, after what happened yesterday, I will consider it a success if I manage to get out of Stormwind alive."
Shadows flicked across his face, light jumping from his jaw to the cheekbone—there it was, the truth highlighted in ways his body could not conceal. His mask collapsed with the slightest motion in his jaw, teeth biting back on the remorse and guilt and that undeniable sour taste they left in his mouth. "I have told them I want you to stay."
"I'm sorry?" What a surprise.
"I want you to stay," Anduin repeated, taking a small step forward, one hand resting on the door while the other turned the key. "I want this peace to last, too. It's a chance we can't afford to waste." The shrieking of old hinges filled the cell as he stood in the doorway, a boy playing a grown-up game of war and peace. "You will be given a private room in the Keep, and there will always be a guard at your door. But you will have limited access around the city, and the guard will escort you everywhere you go. Are these terms favourable to you?"
"Of course, Your Majesty."
"There's something else," he added, signalling someone who had approached us quietly while we talked. A young woman came in, eyeing me suspiciously with a frightened look, and handed some folded clothes to him. "I had someone pick out a set of clean clothes for you. I hope they fit you well. I had to guess the size."
"Thank you." I smiled at her, but she didn't smile back. Instead, she retreated quickly to the safety of the corridor, where she didn't have to be near the mean, scary blood elf.
Our hands brushed together when he offered me the bundle, his skin as smooth as the silk on the clothes. "I will let you wash up and change, and then I would like to personally escort you to your room if that's okay?"
"That would be an honour, Your Majesty." I bowed again as he left, turning his back towards me respectfully while he waited.
I hadn't dared to check the extent of my injuries until I took off my leather vest. My torso was littered with purple contusions, an impressive collection even for a soldier's standards. That would explain why my whole body was so sore—as if I'd been rolling down a cliff for a week, hitting every rock and bump along the way. Greymane's talent to hurt me had always been remarkable. I could only hope one day Lady Sylvanas would allow me to finally get my sweet revenge and deal the killing blow to end his miserable, cursed life.
They had provided a clean towel and a bar of soap, so I used them to wash up at the basin. I didn't have a mirror, but I could feel my hair was starting to mat in some places, dirty with dried blood, sweat and dust. I washed it as best as I could and braided it, so it would appear more elegant.
The clothes looked like typical Alliance garments, the kind I had not worn in many years. The white top with lace around the sleeves was a smidge too big, but the light blue skirt had just the right length to brush against the top of my feet and the brown sandals fit me well. Yet, I still felt uncomfortable in something so casual, so disconnected with the warring type of life I had grown accustomed to.
"Your majesty," I called, hands behind my back and a shy smile dancing on my lips as I swayed slowly from side to side.
He turned around, his expression lighting up like clouds parting to reveal the sun, the reserved and indifferent persona completely forgotten and pushed aside. "I'm glad the clothes fit you."
"They are wonderful!" I smoothed the front of the skirt with my hands, trying to get used to how foreign the delicate fabric felt over my body. "I haven't worn anything like this in a long time."
He extended a hand, and I let him guide me out of the cell into the scarcely lit passageway that led to the main corridor. I didn't realize how warm he was until he let go and the cold air of the stockade hurried to envelop my hand in his place.
We walked side by side, allowing the silence to settle around us, slow as dust and just as fickle. The stockade was full of small, echoing sounds—the lazy footsteps of patrolling guards, the occasional rattle of chains or keys, water drip-dropping somewhere in the distance, the chattering of mice and the scratching of their tiny claws on the stone floor. The gloomy corridors of the stockade, with the large cobwebs dangling from the ceiling and the torture devices casually resting along the passageways, didn't seem so bad in his company, somehow—as if Light itself flowed through Anduin to soothe everyone around him.
"Tell me more about you," Anduin started, climbing the stairway to reach the heavy double doors. "Where do you live?"
"I'm currently renting a small hut in Orgrimmar."
The chilly night air welcomed us as we stepped out. I was glad the night had already fallen—fewer people on the streets meant more privacy to us. I followed his lead as we walked along the canals, a beautiful jumble of torchlights reflected in the calm waters.
The loud conversations and clinking of glasses leaked through the open door of a tavern as we walked by, and I was suddenly very aware of how much I needed a drink. Perhaps I could invite him to have a drink with me sometime.
"Is it pleasant there, in Orgrimmar? It's been a while since I visited," he stated as we crossed the canal.
"It's much too hot for my taste," I admitted. "But that's where my Warchief needs me."
"You are very loyal to her, aren't you?"
I paused, glancing at him while choosing the right words for maximum effect without burning any bridges. He was watching me with genuine curiosity, something I did not expect. "I owe her my life."
His eyes widened slightly, surprised at the unexpected answer. "I would like to hear that story if you wish to tell me."
"Maybe one day." I smiled at him, an unvoiced promise lingering in the air between us.
We walked in silence for a while, through an underpass that led to a different part of the city. "Thank you for stopping Greymane yesterday," I said, as we approached another bridge. "I endured because I knew you would show up."
"How did you know?"
We stopped, and I turned to him, placing a hand on his upper arm. "I was certain you would because you're already a better king than he could ever be."
His eyes widened as he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He broke eye contact first, looking down to hide a smile. Realizing that Anduin was shy about his own happiness made me feel sorry for him. Happiness was so hard to come by in our world, we should celebrate every little thing instead of hiding it. Still, I turned around to admire the city, allowing him a moment to recover gracefully.
"This is a beautiful city," I commented, looking down at the wavy pattern of the fish swimming in the water, and then up to the lit-up clock tower across from us. "Orgrimmar has its charms, but it's not very aesthetically pleasing."
I had never lived in a city like Stormwind. Silvermoon had been full of warm colours and delicate structures. The Undercity was dark and melancholic with its underlying green glow. Orgrimmar was red hot and dry, uninviting for someone who didn't handle heat very well. Stormwind, on the other hand, was sobering and solemn, the blue roofs creating a charming contrast with the snowy rock and pale wood of most buildings. The lovely canals running through the city created a pleasant romantic atmosphere, allowing for sentiments to grow unchecked.
He chuckled quietly, resting his hands on the stone wall. The clock marked ten, and a bell rang once. "I'm glad you like it. I do hope we can spend some time together."
A couple laughed out loud in the pier below, sitting with their legs dangling out and their backs turned to us. The man leaned in for a kiss, and she accepted, wrapping her arms around him.
"Your Majesty, it would be an honour to spend time with you and maybe get to know your people a bit better, if they'll let me."
"They might feel shy, at first," he said, as we kept going. "But I think it's important for the people of Stormwind to see us together and know that you are an ally." He paused, and I glanced at him, noticing he was chewing on his bottom lip, uneasy and perhaps a bit worried before proceeding. "Would you like to take a walk through the city with me tomorrow morning? I would like to show you around."
"I would be delighted to do so, Your Majesty." I smiled widely, prompting him to do the same. He sighed like he had been holding that breath for hours, and then straightened up as if a weight had been lifted off his back.
I briefly wondered if he had been nervous about asking me to spend time with him. Maybe he thought I would be averse to it, after what happened with Greymane? Was he that desperate for peace that he actually thought I would say no? But then I realized that the issue was more profound than that—Anduin Wrynn just needed to feel validated.
When we turned a corner, the Keep revealed itself, with its multiple towers watching over the city. It was magnificent and overwhelming, and I allowed a small gasp to escape me, as I took in the splendour of the castle.
"It's something, isn't it?" He clasped his hands behind his back, amused by my surprise.
"I've heard tales of the great Stormwind Keep, but I still didn't know what to expect. You've lived here your whole life?"
He nodded. "Most of it, yes."
"Must be lonely."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, I'm assuming a boy who lives in a place like this would probably not have many friends outside his circle. Especially if he's the heir to the throne. My parents were not royalty, but I still had trouble making friends because most of the other kids were afraid of me." We crossed the drawbridge while the guards bowed their heads to the King. "When you are larger than life, it makes others feel really small. People don't like feeling small."
As we climbed the grand stairway, I recognized the tall statue that stood atop the fountain— it was King Varian Wrynn, overlooking the entrance to the Keep. Anduin stayed behind while I walked to the fountain, interlaced hands and bowed head in silent prayer. Then I dipped my fingertips in the cold water and touched my forehead and my heart before making a curtsy to the statue.
"What was that you just did?" he asked, as we climbed the flight of stairs to the right.
"I recognized the face in the statue, and I wanted to say a prayer for him. Your father was a good man."
"And the thing with the water? Is that one of your customs?"
"Something my mother used to do, though I do not know where it comes from. I asked him for guidance and bravery, it seemed appropriate." I shrugged gently, glancing at him. Our eyes crossed paths as we reached the last step.
"You are an intriguing person, Omellas."