A very sincere thank you to everyone who left a comment or messaged me about the last chapter and my doubts about my writing. I was absolutely blown away by the level of support this story received, and it made no small difference in bolstering my confidence and encouraging me to continue. It means the world.
Varian
The rest of the week disappeared in a blur of feasts and tours and other diplomatic events; each coming one after the other and so fast that Varian barely had time to catch his breath. He had been through all of this once before, of course, but it appeared his memory had done him the kindness of blanking most of it out. Worst of all, he had barely had the chance to spend any time alone with Auriana, which struck him as somewhat ironic given that she was the reason for all the excitement and fuss in the first place.
As the morning before the wedding dawned, however, Varian was finally presented with an activity that he actually might enjoy. Today, he would lead his friends and family and a number of members of the Stormwind Court in a traditional hunt, to capture a prize stag that would be served at his wedding feast the following evening. He had also invited his fellow Alliance leaders, and as he made his way down through the city and out towards the staging grounds just outside the city gates, he was pleased to see many familiar faces milling about the horses.
Admittedly, some of those faces surprised him more than others. While Varian had warmly and sincerely extended his invitation to the other men of the Alliance, he knew that not all of them shared his passion for hunting, and he would not have been offended in the slightest if anyone had refused. Still, it seemed that the bonds of friendship and comradeship held tighter than Varian had expected, and that not a single person had refused his summons.
Genn and Broll were there, of course, neither one the kind to turn down the opportunity for a good hunt, as well as Malfurion and the two dwarven thanes. A little ways away, Gelbin Mekkatorque was chatting animatedly to a young stable lad, who was trying and largely failing to mount the King of Gnomes on a less-than-impressed pony. Much to Varian's satisfaction, Anduin had also come, and he beamed brightly in greeting as Varian made his way through the assembled crowd of hunters, servants, and hangers on.
Somewhat unexpectedly, however, Anduin was accompanied by the Prophet Velen, who had traded his signature robes for a set of draenic hunting clothes. He bore a finely crafted bow upon his back, and had even gone so far as to have his prodigious beard bound and braided in a most practical fashion. In short, he looked entirely unlike himself, and Varian had to do a double take before he recognised the stately Prophet for who he was.
Around a dozen noblemen were also in attendance for the King's hunt, but Varian was not here for them. He had been feeling increasingly restless all week, and had eagerly anticipated the opportunity to burn off some steam. It wasn't just that he felt stifled by the seemingly endless demands on his time, or even that he was nervous. He had been a king almost all his life, and despite what some people may have thought, he knew how to comport himself properly when the situation so demanded. That said, he could no longer ignore the feeling of intense pressure that had been building in his chest for days, though he was damned if he could explain what it was.
Varian forced such thoughts to the back of his mind as he made his way over to his waiting gelding, held in place by one of the Keep's best young stable hands. The boy was grinning broadly, clearly thrilled to have saddled a horse for the King of Stormwind himself, and he fidgeted anxiously as Varian looked the beast over. Fortunately, the hand had done an excellent job, and Varian offered him a gruff but sincere nod of approval as he stowed his bow and began to adjust the saddle for his height.
Varian had just finished tightening the horse's girth when a flash of brightly coloured skirts suddenly caught his eye, and he realised that Auriana had come to see them off. He was glad to see her, naturally, but he had been under the impression that she was meant to be spending the morning in a final fitting for her dress. Concerned, Varian immediately stepped away from his horse, and subtly indicated for her to join him away from the main group so they could speak in relative privacy.
They met beneath the shade of a nearby oak, well out of earshot of the others. Auriana looked beautiful, Varian thought, wearing a dress of his favourite sapphire blue, though he couldn't help but notice the tight set of her jaw and the slight frown that creased her forehead.
"Auriana? I wasn't expecting to see you here, is something wrong?" he asked quietly, resting a broad palm on the small of her back.
"No, nothing's wrong, I just…"
She sighed, and looked down at her feet.
"I'm sorry. It's stupid."
"Auri…" Varian said patiently, "Talk to me. What's bothering you?"
Auriana glanced up at him between long lashes, and took a deep breath as she struggled to find the right words.
"We're getting married tomorrow…" she started.
"Yes, I am aware," Varian snorted. "I was rather looking forward to it, actually."
He grinned wolfishly down at her, but grew concerned when she did not return his smile. Moreover, she would barely even look him in the eye, and his once-mild concern suddenly multiplied tenfold.
"Wait. You aren't… having second thoughts, are you?" he whispered hoarsely, feeling lightheaded as he imagined having come so far, only for her to refuse him.
The blood drained from Auriana's face as she realised how her words must have sounded, and she quickly shook her head.
"No!" she insisted fiercely. "No, of course not."
"Then what?"
"I-I keep… waiting for something to go wrong," she confessed. "And the closer we come, the worse it gets… My heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest, sometimes, and when you're out of my sight, it's so much worse."
She let out a short, sharp sigh of agitation, and fiddled anxiously with her skirts as she continued.
"Like today… I can't help thinking that you're going to have some kind of terrible accident; that's why I came down here. Every moment, it feels like I'm waiting for some of those damned assassins to show up, or some nightmarish creature to slither its way out from under our bed… hell, knowing my luck, the whole damn Burning Legion is going to decide to invade right in the middle of our vows..."
Varian pressed a rough, calloused thumb against Auriana's lips to stop her anxious rambling; hating to see her so distressed. He was acutely aware that this was the most they'd really been able to talk all week, and he intended to use the opportunity to ease her worries as much as he could.
"Hush," he murmured, cupping her cheeks reverentially between his palms. "I would never let that happen."
"I don't think they'd give you much of a choice…"
Auriana looked up at him then, her lovely blue eyes dark with real fear. Varian supposed her concern was only natural, given that they had both led rather eventful lives, but he would be damned if he would let anything come between them now. He stood up to his full height, towering over her, and squared the powerful muscles of his shoulders and back as if spoiling for a fight.
"Bah," he grunted forcefully. "I am Varian Wrynn. There is not a force in this universe that will keep me from taking you as my bride."
There was no false bravado in his declaration, only the absolute truth, and his unshakeable confidence was enough to finally draw a small smile from Auriana's lips. She wanted to believe him, he could tell, though she still remained somewhat hesitant.
"I'll be fine. I promise," Varian insisted, taking her by the shoulders to emphasise his point. "It's just a hunt. This is how men in Stormwind have celebrated impending marriages for generations."
He gave her his best reassuring smile, and tucked a tendril of dark hair back behind her ear.
"Beside which, I have some of the most powerful warriors and sorcerers in Azeroth watching out for me. Surely you trust Broll? And Kalec, and Velen?"
"They're not me," Auriana mumbled.
"Well, no one's as good as you. But in the interests of diplomacy… let's just keep that between us, hmm?" Varian suggested.
That, at least, made her laugh, and she looked him properly in the eye for the first time since they had started talking. She shook herself slightly, as if clearing the memory of a bad dream, and offered him a genuine, if rather effortful, smile.
"Alright then," she sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly as she forced herself to relax. "So... you get a day out drinking and hunting and frolicking in the woods with your friends, and I'm supposed to do what, exactly?"
"First of all, Wrynns don't frolic," Varian grumbled, scowling down at her with mock sternness, "And second of all… well, ah… I believe you are supposed to take a vigil in the Cathedral, to reflect under the Light about your new role as my virtuous wife."
It was a real tradition, if a rather dated one, though he had suggested it more to provoke a reaction from Auriana, than because he actually thought she should do so. What he really wanted was to distract her from her fears and help her to remain calm, and if he had to tease and prod her a little to achieve his aim, well, so be it.
"Oh, I think we both know that's about as likely to happen as Gelbin over there growing five feet and sprouting wings," she huffed, putting her hands firmly on her hips.
"Ah, but you forget - we live on Azeroth. Stranger things have actually happened," Varian said lightly, struggling to maintain an air of seriousness in the face of Auriana's endearing indignation.
He must not have done a good job of being convincing, however, judging from the look of sly skepticism that flicked across her face.
"I know what you're doing…" she told him drily, tilting her head to one side.
"Is it working?" he asked hopefully.
Auriana chuckled, and ran a rueful hand through the lengths of her dark hair.
"Yes," she admitted. "Just don't go falling off your horse and breaking your neck or something. I'd be very vexed with you."
"I've never fallen off a horse in my life! And I would certainly never do anything to risk your ire. I'd be far too scared to do so," Varian teased gently.
"You - Varian Wrynn, King of Stormwind, High King of the Alliance, Lo'Gosh - are afraid of little old me?" Auriana snorted.
She bit her lower lip, her expression wide-eyed and innocent, and Varian was suddenly very eager for a little more privacy. He quickly pulled her further behind the trunk of the great oak, and brushed his lips up against her ear.
"Terrified," he whispered.
Auriana's eyes narrowed suspiciously, as if not quite sure whether he were still teasing or not, and she poked him firmly in the chest with a pale, slender finger.
"You know I'm not above waking you up in the mornings by freezing your toes, right?" she said flatly.
"Is that so?" he asked, trying not to smile.
"Call me 'terrifying' again and you'll find out," she murmured.
Varian lowered his head to whisper a witty retort, when their quiet interlude was interrupted by the sudden, triumphant bellow of a dragon somewhere overheard. Overtaken by instinct, Varian pulled Auriana tight against him, shielding her with his body, only to relax a few seconds later as he recognised the distinctive flash of azure scales that could only be Kalecgos.
The enormous blue made a few playful loops over the Valley of Heroes, scaring an entire flock of birds into the air, before he landed on the grass nearby and smoothly shifted back into a humanoid. A number of the horses whinnied and tossed their heads in alarm, though they calmed down considerably upon realising that Kalec was rather less likely to eat them in his current form.
"Speaking of terrified…" Varian sighed. "You know, between the all talking and laughter and the actual dragon, there's not going to be a single game animal in the forest who hasn't been frightened away."
Now confident there was no danger, he stepped back, though his hands lingered gently on Auriana's waist. As much as he was here for her comfort, he had also come to understand that the strange tightness in his chest only lessened when she was about, and he wasn't willing to let her go quite yet.
"I don't think the deer are quite the point, Varian," she said drily. "You said it yourself. It's about celebrating with friends and family."
She gestured to the excited group of hunters readying their horses, each smiling broadly or wrapped up in animated conversation. Even normally quiet or stoic people like Velen seemed to be in high spirits, and Varian was admittedly pleased to see the each of the varied leaders and heroes of the Alliance getting along so well.
"Very true," he conceded, "Though according to the tradition, if I fail to bring back a deer for our wedding feast, I'm not fit to marry you. Something about… being a good provider. So I have something of a vested interest in being successful."
Auriana glanced significantly up towards where Stormwind Keep towered over the city skyline, and raised her eyebrows.
"You're a king. I think you'll manage to 'provide' for me just fine," she snorted. "And if you can't… well... I'll just conjure us some mana buns."
"Mana buns hardly constitute a feast," Varian pointed out.
"How would you know?" she said archly. "You've never tasted my mana buns."
Varian smirked to himself at her turn of phrase, and took advantage of the shelter of the tree to slide his eager hands further down her body and pin her roughly between his body and the hardness of the thick oak trunk. As expected, she gasped and flushed beneath his touch, and immediately looked around to see if their intimate moment had been witnessed.
"Hmph. I'm fairly sure that's not true," he growled heatedly, biting back a devilish grin as he nuzzled the soft skin of her neck.
He wasn't sure whether it were possible for Auriana to colour anymore than she already had, but somehow the rosy red of her cheeks deepened and spread, all the way up to the very tips of her ears. Still, she did not pull away, and even permitted Varian to capture her lips for a slow and passionate kiss.
"In all seriousness, though," he added, as he reluctantly came up for air, "Are you sure you'll be alright on your own today? I would stay, if you asked."
Varian had been immensely proud of Auriana's conduct over the last week, but he was not so blind that he could not see that she was somewhat overwhelmed. Of course, she would never dream of complaining or expressing such worries aloud, and so Varian had taken it upon himself to ensure that she felt as supported as possible.
"Of course," she said quickly, giving him a small and not entirely reassuring smile. "I'm used to being alone."
"Not anymore," he countered firmly, tightening his hands on her waist to emphasise his point.
"You're not wrong about that," she agreed, glancing somewhat anxiously around the trunk of the tree and back towards the assembled hunters.
Varian frowned.
"Just one more day," he promised. "Then this will all die down and I'll whisk you away and have you all to myself."
As much as Varian eagerly awaited the opportunity to exchange vows with Auriana, he was even more excited to take her away from Stormwind for a few days of much need privacy. He hadn't taken a proper break from his duties in more or less forever, much less taken the time to simply be a man alone with the woman he loved.
"I know this… fuss… isn't what you wanted," he added apologetically.
Auriana considered his words carefully, then shook her head, and smiled.
"No, it's fine. Good, even," she said, once again gesturing to the energy and conversation behind them. "It makes people happy."
"And what about you? Are you happy?" Varian asked worriedly.
Auriana reached up and traced her fingers along the line of his facial scarring, and her expression softened as she stared deep into his eyes. Varian had never told her, but he secretly loved when she touched him like that; loved that she did not fear or abhor the dark, warlike side of his nature. A soft growl rose in his throat, and he leaned longingly into the coolness of her hand.
"It may be a fuss… but… at the end of it all, I get you," she murmured shyly, her voice deepening with emotion. "A-and there's nothing I wouldn't do to be with you..."
Varian inhaled sharply, and a wave of heat rippled through his chest. Auriana had fought against their love for a very long time, but to have her standing firm beside him; to have her running towards their future instead of away from it… well, that meant everything in the world.
"Auri…"
He bowed his head to kiss her for a second time, when he was interrupted by a polite cough from somewhere to his left. He grunted in faint irritation, and pulled away from Auriana to see Genn and Broll waiting patiently a respectful distance away.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Auriana, but it's time we stole your King away," Genn apologised, with a brief sidelong glance at Varian.
"Quite alright," Auriana replied smoothly, though there was still the slightest hint of reluctance in her tone as she blushed and stepped away. "Just… keep him safe, would you?"
"You have my word, my lady," Genn assured her graciously, "Though I make no promises about beating him in the hunt..."
He smirked wolfishly as he turned to make his way back to the main group, but Varian did not immediately respond, nor move to join him. His attention was still fully focused on Auriana; his hands lingering on her waist as they silently stared into each other's eyes.
"Go," she murmured, answering his unspoken question with a small smile and an encouraging tilt of her head. "Have fun."
Varian was still reluctant to leave her - in truth, he always was - but he was far more confident in doing so once he had her express support. He kissed her briefly on the forehead and squeezed her hand, before at last making to follow Genn and Broll back to the horses. By this time, each and every one of the hunters were mounted, even Gelbin Mekkatorque, though they all waited patiently for Varian as he made his final adjustments and swung up into the saddle.
He paused to take one last look at Auriana, now standing alone beside the great oak, before he heeled his gelding into a trot and headed off down the road towards Goldshire. The rest of the hunting party and their retainers followed soon after, and within minutes the group were excitedly talking and boasting and sharing skeins of wine and ale amongst themselves once more. The two dwarven thanes even went so far as to begin to sing; a rowdy and rather salacious hunting song that somehow got louder and louder with each verse.
The hunters rode through Elwynn for over an hour, until they reached a wide clearing on the edge of one of Varian's favourite hunting grounds. From here, they would continue the hunt on foot while the hands and servants tended to the horses and set out a noonday feast. Varian had no particular taste for hunting on horseback, or even with dogs. It seemed unfair, somehow, and he felt that if he wanted to eat, then he should damn well have to earn it with the strength of his arm and the skill of his bow.
After a short briefing discussion - which included no small measure of good-natured posturing and ribaldry - the group split off into pairs, and carefully made their way into the darker depths of the forest. Each hunter now carried a horn to signal when a kill had been made, as well as to warn of any unforeseen danger or injury. There was a competitive element to the day as well - the hunter or hunters that downed the first buck were traditionally gifted a reward from the King's own hand, and pride of place at the lunch feast later that day.
Of course, to win such an honour, the hunters had to best Varian himself, and he did not intend to make their task easy. He had eagerly led the charge into the forest, and now wove all but silently through the trees, clutching his new night elven hunting bow tightly as his sharp eyes sought any trace of a suitable stag. Twenty yards to his right, Broll prowled with equal assuredness and grace, his movements mirroring Varian's as closely as if they were of one mind.
They did not say a word to one another, and nor did they have to. Varian knew Broll's hunting and fighting patterns almost as well as he knew his own, and he trusted the Archdruid implicitly. Broll never panicked or acted precipitously, and Varian could not have asked for a better companion if he hoped to win the day.
They stumbled upon a suitable target only about half an hour of walking; a fine buck with towering antlers and clever eyes that was as large a beast as Varian had ever seen. As luck would have it, however, the buck was grazing within the narrow confines of a stand of ash trees, and was well protected from any arrowfire. Varian guessed that he could perhaps get a shot off into its flank, but from this angle it was far more likely that he would hit a tree instead, and scare the beast off on an inconvenient bearing. He could, however, see a gap in the treeline about a hundred yards south, which would make an ideal ambush point if they were able to successfully flush the deer out in that direction.
Varian glanced over at Broll, crouched about twenty yards to his right, and made a series of swift, silent hand gestures.
Flank west, then sweep south. Move in on my command.
Broll nodded his understanding, and carefully nocked an arrow as he crept off into the undergrowth. He was not hunting as a bear today, instead preferring the challenge of using a bow to bring the stag down. Still, he was just as deadly as a night elf as he was as a ferocious bear, and if Varian had calculated correctly their movements correctly, the hunt would be as good as over within the next few minutes.
Varian forcibly slowed his breathing, counting down through ten heartbeats as he prepared to leap from his hiding place. With himself flanking from the north, and Broll from the west, the deer would have little choice but to turn towards the clearing in the south, where he would be a much easier target for their arrows. Just as Varian had silently counted seven, however, there came the loud, sharp crack of a twig from somewhere nearby. Startled, the deer's head snapped up, its ears twitching violently, and without any further provocation it darted off through the trees in precisely the wrong direction.
Varian swore. He was certain he had not made a sound, and he doubted Broll had either; though he also supposed it made very little difference who had moved when their prey was bounding away through the trees.
A savage growl tore through Varian's throat as he lunged from his hiding place and pushed himself into a full sprint, trusting Broll to follow. Varian was a highly competitive man by nature, and he would not lose the chance to bring down a prize buck his own wedding hunt. He may not have be able to keep up with a stag on an open field, but here in one of the denser parts of Elwynn Forest, he could more or less match the beast stride for stride. He was fast, he knew, especially for a man of his size, and if he could just angle himself across the buck's path and get into a position for a clean shot, the kill could still be his…
Varian leapt high into the air over a fallen log, when a blur streaking through the forest to his left suddenly caught his attention. At first, he thought it might be Genn Greymane in his worgen form, ready to steal the kill out from under him, but this creature was sleeker and not as hunched in the shoulders. It was, he quickly realised, a true wolf, with a shining silver-grey pelt and the sharp, clever eyes of born predator.
The wolf was fast, too, and seemingly fearless; darting through the trees with a mad and heedless joy. Varian's blood rose at the sight of it, not willing to lose his kill to another challenger, but the wolf did not seem to care for the stag at all. It was entirely fixated on Varian, darting around him with the uncontrollable giddiness of a young pup, and when it abruptly changed tack and turned to the east, he made the split second decision to ignore the stag and follow. A fierce, primal impulse had risen within him as he ran, and he had never been one to ignore his own powerful instincts.
It wasn't something Varian could explain, but it felt perfectly natural to be sprinting through the forest on the wolf's heels, and for a moment, he forgot everything save for the simple joy of running free. He didn't know where they were going, and nor did he particularly care. The forest blurred into a haze of green around him as he ran faster and faster, and he could hear nothing save for the thundering of his own heart in his ears and sharp rasp of his breath in his chest.
It had been some time since he had pushed himself to such physical extremes, and he was pleased to find that he had not lost either his speed or his stamina. The wolf, however, was a worthy contender, and it began to gather speed at what seemed to him to be a very unnatural rate. His blood surging, Varian pushed himself as fast as he was able without running headlong into a tree, but the wolf continued to gain ground on him until it finally vanished into the undergrowth with a taunting whine.
Snarling in frustration, Varian skidded to a halt and glared around for the slightest hint of silver-grey fur flashing between the trees, but the wolf had most certainly vanished as quickly and silently as it had appeared. More troublingly, Varian realised had no idea where he now stood, and he cursed himself for getting so caught up in chasing the beast that he had lost track of both his whereabouts, and his ultimate goal. It wasn't like him to be so distractible, but at the time following the wolf had seemed like the most reasonable and natural choice in the world.
Varian brushed his sweat-soaked hair back from his face, and took a few deep breaths as he took stock of his location. He had chased the wolf into a ring of trees surrounding a small, tranquil pool, though he wasn't sure how long they had been running to be able to estimate distance. The light also seemed to be unnaturally bright here, and Varian found that if he stared too long at the rippling water, it began to give him a headache.
A twig suddenly cracked somewhere in the forest behind him, and Varian whirled to face sound; nocking an arrow to his bow in anticipation of any trouble. He was not afraid of wolves, especially not the one who had run alongside him so playfully earlier, but nor did he intend to ignore the prickle of warning that rose at the base of his neck. His muscles tensed as the undergrowth shifted and crackled, only to immediately relax as the branches parted to reveal a slender, wide-eyed doe.
The deer was very young, perhaps only a year into adulthood at best, and was likely too young to have bred. It stared back at him placidly, with not a hint of fear, and for a brief moment Varian considered putting an arrow through its eye. In the end, however, he couldn't bring himself to kill a deer so young, nor one that apparently didn't even have sense enough to run away. There was no challenge, no honour in such a kill, and Varian had never been one to take the easy path.
"Not enough meat on you anyway," he muttered.
He lowered his bow.
"You ought to be careful," he told the doe, watching it closely as it came forth to drink from the pool. "There are wolves about. And worgen, and dragons… and Light knows what else."
Varian sat down on a nearby rock, balancing his bow across his lap as he stretched his legs and readjusted his boots. He didn't know why he had felt the need to give advice to a deer, or even why he was talking to the animal at all, but there was something about its big, dark eyes that struck him as vaguely human.
"They're hunting a stag for my wedding feast - or trying to, at least," he added. "My… my wedding feast…"
As he spoke, he felt his chest tighten, and the weight and reality of what he was about to do abruptly crashed down upon him like an avalanche. He had been so focused on protecting Auriana and getting her down the aisle in one piece - in itself, no easy task - that he hadn't taken much time to think about himself, and how he felt to be standing on the eve of his second wedding.
Varian's fingers opened, and his hunting bow tumbled from his fingers and down into the soft grass. He pressed a hand to his chest, and for a moment, he found it hard to breathe. Suddenly, he felt it all; the sheer weight of expectation on his shoulders mingling with the pressure of a very public wedding and the irresistible power of his love for Auriana… and for Tiffin.
Their wedding had been an equally grand royal affair, of course, but in the years since Tiffin's death, he had forced those memories deep down into the part of his heart that he rarely dared to touch. The image of her smiling and dancing, resplendent in her wedding dress, had almost been too painful to bear. It was a dull ache, now, scarred over many times, but Varian still feared spiralling back down into a depression if he allowed his thoughts to linger overlong.
Sitting alone in the clearing, however, his carefully constructed walls began to crack and crash down all around him. It wasn't that he had forgotten Tiffin, but that a combination of pain and guilt had held him back from remembering more often than not. The pain was old, but the guilt had been a rather new development. In a way, he felt it was a betrayal of Tiffin's memory to have been so happy with Auriana… and he also knew that it was entirely unfair on Auriana if he were to be constantly mulling over the death of his first wife...
Varian ran a hand over his eyes, and abruptly realised that the doe was still standing nearby, staring back at him with those impossibly soft and clever eyes.
"Stop looking at me like that," he grunted, but still the animal did not move.
The doe cocked its head to the side, and continued to watch him with an alarmingly human expression. It almost seemed as if it expected him to say something, too, if such an idea was not patently ridiculous. He was no king out here, however, and the doe flatly ignored his command. It merely twitched a tawny ear in his direction, and patiently waited for him to continue speaking.
"Fine," Varian sighed, throwing up his hands. "I'll play."
He was a private person by nature, and did not often share his feelings with anyone, save for perhaps Auriana. In this case, however, he realised that he had something that needed to be said, even if he didn't want it to be heard.
If people could see me now, he thought ruefully, They would think I was going mad.
"I don't have cold feet, if that's what you're thinking," he warned the doe. "Far from it."
He closed his eyes, and he could picture Auriana as as clearly as if she were standing right in front of him. The mere thought of her alone was enough to make his heart beat faster, and he was more sure of his decision to marry her than he had been of any other decision he'd ever made in his life.
"Light, I love her," he murmured. "I do. More than I ever believed I was capable of loving anyone… which is probably still a good deal less than she deserves. She's... remarkable. I want to spend every day of my life protecting her, loving her… making her happy. But…"
The words came easier than he expected, perhaps because the doe could not reply, and hence could not offer him censure or judgement.
"But… I can't help but feel as if I'm doing something wrong," he continued stiffly. "As if I'm… failing Tiffin. As if I'm betraying the love that we had in some way."
He stared down at his hands, and began to idly fiddle with the gloves; pressing and moulding them around his fingers as he struggled to put his feeling into words.
"I keep telling myself she would want me to be happy, that she wouldn't want me to be alone forever, but… would she?" he asked doubtfully. "Am I just… lying to myself so that I don't feel so damn guilty? Let's face it, it wouldn't be the first time..."
Varian snorted ruefully, and shook his head. He felt rather ridiculous, talking to the doe as if it could actually understand a word he was saying, but there was something comforting in its peaceful expression and enormous brown eyes. It really did look almost human, and not at all like a normal animal. Certainly, it was far too calm for a wild deer, its entire demeanour far too knowing, and between it and the wolf, he vaguely wondered if there was something more going on here than a chance encounter in the woods.
The unusually placid deer was, however, merely a distraction from the larger issue at hand. Varian pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to clear his thoughts, when the truth of it all struck him like lightning, and it dawned on him exactly what he needed to say. He didn't pretend to know precisely what happened after death; whether Tiffin's spirit was still around to hear his words, or whether he was just whispering into a wide, empty universe, but now that he had started down the path of reflection, he found that he couldn't stop.
He took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, he let go of a great many things that he had been holding on to for far too long.
"I love you, Tiffin," he murmured falteringly, speaking as if it were really her standing in front of him, instead of just a curious deer. "I will never forget you, or the love we shared. How could I? Our son - the son we made - is the light of my life."
He smiled sadly to himself, wishing that more than anything that Tiffin could have seen the wise and brilliant man that Anduin was rapidly becoming.
"But… it's… it's time for me to stop living in the past," he added quietly. "I don't want to be alone for the rest of my life, and I… I'm choosing to be happy."
It was true, he realised, albeit a good deal later than he probably should have. He had seen his fair share of tragedy in his life, tragedy that had been beyond his control, but in many ways, he had also been a leading cause of his own misery. It was something he had always known, deep down, but he had never fully appreciated just how much he had been his own worst enemy until he had finally decided to chose something else.
Something more.
"I want Auri as my wife, and… wherever you are, I hope…"
He paused, and felt a strange lump rise in the back of throat, unbidden. His eyes, too, suddenly pricked, and he wiped furiously at them with the back of his glove hand.
"No," he amended, his voice cracking with barely repressed emotion. "It's more than hope. I... I know that your heart is big enough to let me move on. To let her love me, a-and to let me love her…"
As he spoke, Varian finally felt the colossal pressure in his chest lessen, and he found it a great deal easier to simply breathe. Across the clearing, the doe's ears flicked backwards, as if it had heard something he hadn't, and it stomped its hoof firmly into the grass. It tossed its head and bleated happily, and Varian was once again struck by the distinctly human nature of its expression.
"Goodbye…" he whispered, the word at once softer than a breath and as loud as if he had shouted it to the entire world.
Varian closed his eyes, and as he sat in stillness and silence, the last threads of guilt and doubt and hurt unchained themselves from around his heart. He allowed his memories of Tiffin to wash over him, and for the first time in a very long while, they were not distorted through a lens of pain. He remembered every detail, from the smallest crinkle in the corner of eyes as she smiled, to the musical peal of her laugh… and with each slow, steady beat of his heart, he let her go. Varian would not forget, could not forget… but after so many years alone, he could at long last choose to forgive himself.
He might have been there for hours, days even, but when he finally allowed himself to drift back to reality, he was more at peace within himself than he could ever remember having felt before. Oddly enough, the doe had now vanished, without so much as a hoofprint to mark its passing; and as with the wolf, Varian couldn't help but to wonder if the creature had even been real at all.
He looked around, uncertain, as the blinding light in the clearing dimmed, when he heard a loud voice calling his name.
"Varian? Varian! Are you out there? Can you hear me?"
Varian hastily rose to his feet, and collected his bow from where it had fallen in the grass. He was not ashamed of his emotions, but nor did he wish to share the truth of his experience in the clearing with anyone else - especially given that he wasn't entirely sure what had just happened.
Some things were just for him, and him alone.
He had just managed to pull himself together when Genn, Broll, and Kalec burst into the clearing, each looking rather frantic. They relaxed immediately upon seeing him, though Varian did not miss the way they each scanned him from top to tail for any sign of injury or other trouble; their expressions each amusingly similar.
"Varian! Where on earth have you been?" Genn demanded, his bushy eyebrows twitching upwards. "We were starting to think you'd been kidnapped. Again."
"As you can see, I'm still in one piece, and there are no kidnappers in sight," Varian said drily, spreading his arms wide. "I just… had a bit too much wine, and needed to sit for a few minutes to clear my head."
It was not the best lie he had ever told, admittedly, but Genn seemed to have bought it without argument.
"You must be getting old, my friend," the worgen King teased. "You had barely half a skein."
"Must be," Varian conceded, shrugging.
"Well, if you're sure there's no trouble, we ought to get back to it," Genn suggested. "Dinner isn't going to catch itself."
Satisfied that Varian was safe, he clapped Kalec on the back, and slipped through the trees and back out into the forest. Kalec still looked somewhat bemused by the bow in his hands, but he was nothing if not enthusiastic, and he happily followed Genn's lead. Broll, however, hesitated, and put a hand on Varian's shoulder to prevent him from running off to join them.
"Varian?" he prompted, his brow creasing thoughtfully. "Are you sure you're alright? You look somewhat..."
"Yes?"
Broll frowned, and struggled in silence for a few moments as he tried to find the right words.
"I am not sure," he admitted. "Different."
He folded his arms across his chest, and gave Varian an all too-knowing look.
"It is a big day tomorrow," he said slowly.
"Yes. It is. And… it can't get here fast enough," Varian said confidently, meaning every word.
Broll's golden eyes were sharp, and he stared at Varian for a long time before he was seemingly satisfied.
"You are good man, and a good friend," he said finally. "I want nothing but happiness for you."
"I know you do," Varian said gruffly. "As I wish the same for you. You know I'm not especially… eloquent with my emotions, shall we say… but it means a great deal that you are here."
He reached out to clasp Broll's forearm, and together they shared a moment of quiet, solemn understanding. Important as the moment was, however, Varian eventually found the outward display of his affection rather cloying, and he released Broll's arm with a bracing shake of his head. His fingers tightened around his bow and he straightened his shoulders, ready put the strange events of the day behind him as he turned once again to the hunt - and to his future.
"Now," he added, his eyes glinting with challenge as he led Broll back into the cover of the treeline, "You aren't going to let the gnome beat you in a hunt, are you? Come on."
