Varian
Upon returning to the Tournament Grounds, Varian's first priority was to get Auriana back to their tent and out of her wet clothes. He also called for no less than half a dozen healers on the way, including the Prophet Velen himself, and refused to let them leave until he was satisfied that Auriana was well. She had protested the fuss the entire while, wearily insisting that the healers were unnecessary... though Varian had clearly seen the relief on her face when Velen had channelled the Light into her wounds. Despite her best attempts, Auriana had also barely been able to keep her eyes open while healers completed their assessment, and in the end she remained awake for only as long as it took to shed her sodden clothes, towel herself dry, and collapse into the waiting warmth of their bed.
Once Auriana was settled and the guards given strict instructions for her care, Varian's next stop had been to discuss the future of the Tournament with Thrall, Genn, and the other leaders of the Alliance and the Horde. He was loathe to leave his wife so soon after she had been rescued, though there was admittedly very little he could do for her while she was sleeping, and he didn't think she would appreciate him looming over her the entire while. She needed to rest uninterrupted, and Varian needed to be a king. The Tournament was still in a heightened state of tension over the bombing, and he knew full well that if he and the others were not careful, that tension could easily bubble over into bloodshed.
Much like the gathering that had been held in the immediate wake of the bombing, the present meeting was hosted in the Argent command tent. All the leaders of the Alliance and the Horde were present, looking considerably more awake - and properly dressed - than they had the night before. A limping Vol'jin had joined them briefly, though it was blatantly obvious to everyone present that he was just as exhausted as Auriana, and was struggling to put on a good show. He had insisted upon giving the assembled leaders a quick rundown of events from his and Auriana's perspective, before finally acquiescing to Thrall's gentle but pointed suggestion that he retire to his tent for healing and sleep.
The subsequent discussion following Vol'jin's departure lasted for nearly three hours, though with both the Warchief and the Queen of Stormwind having been returned safely and more or less intact, the conversation remained surprisingly civil, if not borderline friendly at times. Varian still couldn't look at Sylvanas without wanting to introduce her face to the business end of his fists, but otherwise, he did not find the task of engaging with the Horde as difficult as he had in the past. With support from Jaina and Thrall, Varian had laid out all the evidence obtained by the bomb experts - including the fact that he himself had been the intended target. That particular piece of information had caused quite a stir, as well as a great deal of rampant speculation. Theories had ranged from the likely (an attempt to sabotage Alliance/Horde relations); to the plausible (the spiteful act of a disgruntled champion who had lost against Stormwind in the arena); to the downright ludicrous (part of an impossibly complicated plan to use Varian's death to boost merchandise sales). The latter, of course, having been Jastor Gallywix's suggestion.
Varian had watched each of the Horde members closely as he laid out the evidence, studying each of their faces for any sign of duplicity... and finding none. Even Sylvanas had appeared surprised. Her cool, calculated mask had slipped for barely half a second as she processed the revelation; a change so swift and subtle that Varian would have missed it had he not been staring directly at her at the time. In an odd way, he had hoped she was in some way responsible - it would have at least given him a reasonable excuse to thrash her - but from the way she had fought so hard to hide her reflexive reaction, he believed her surprise to be genuine. She had not known about the bomb… which meant that whoever had planted the infernal device was still out there.
Eventually, they had moved on to discuss other things, most notably whether or not the Tournament would continue. A few strong voices had called for a complete cessation of activity, but the prevailing opinion seemed to be in favour of continuing. Varian had initially supported the idea of cancelling the event - not because he was afraid for his life, but because he found it difficult to see how they might successfully move forward in a climate heavy with fear and suspicion. He was not in any way inclined to capitulate to cowardly terrorists, however, and after listening to the cogent arguments put forward on either side of the issue, he had finally cast his vote for continuance.
Of course, deciding whether or not to continue the Tournament was only half the issue. Both sides demanded additional security measures and reinforcements, naturally, as well as further investigation into the bombing, though there was some disagreement over exactly what form those additional security measures would take. It would also be several weeks before the floor of the main arena could be repaired, and it was doubtful many people would be willing to wait around that long. It was suggested that the Tournament perhaps be moved to an alternate location, such as the Temple of the White Tiger in Pandaria, but in the end it was decided that moving the Tournament would present them with much the same problem. Fordring had then pointed out that the secondary outdoor arena would not take long to prepare to an acceptable state, even if it could not accommodate as many spectators as the main arena, and after an extended back and forth, it was decided that the competition would resume as scheduled in three days time.
After the meeting between the faction leadership had finally concluded, Varian then made his way over to the medical tent, where he had been told he might find the healers attending to the corpse that had been found out on the snow-swept plains. There had been a great deal of discussion as to the dead man's identity, but no one seemed to have the slightest idea who he was - or why he had been killed. Prior to the larger cross-faction discussion, Varian had therefore quickly suggested to Vol'jin and Fordring that a proper autopsy be conducted, though he was not especially hopeful of any meaningful results. There was always the chance, of course, but he wasn't exactly holding his breath.
In order to prevent any allegations of bias, he and Thrall had agreed that the Alliance and the Horde would each send a healer to conduct the autopsy in tandem, under the supervision of one of Fordring's senior officers. The officer himself was a paladin with many years of experience as a field medic, and who had sufficient knowledge to vouch for the veracity of the process. Varian had volunteered a draenei priestess on Velen's recommendation, though he wasn't sure who the Horde had chosen as their representative.
He was fairly sure they had not chosen Anduin, however, which was why he was rather surprised to see his son standing in the healing tent alongside Fordring's paladin, a fine-featured blood elf and a stately draenei. With all the chaos following the bombing, Varian had requested that Anduin stay safe in his own tent under guard - a request, it seemed, that his son had no qualms about refusing.
"Er… Anduin?"
Varian did not miss the way his son's eyes widened in a single moment of pure, unfiltered panic at having been discovered precisely where he ought not have been. He nevertheless forced his expression into a winning smile, and adopted what mostly passed for a confident, nonchalant posture… if not for the fact that Varian could see him tapping his fingers in an anxious staccato on the side of his leg.
"Hello, Father!" he said brightly. "How are you?"
"What are you doing here?" Varian asked, pointedly ignoring the question.
"Oh, well, I've never seen an autopsy before," Anduin explained, with the same tone one might use to describe their first time at the Faire.
The corpse in question had been laid on his back on a wide table in the centre of the room, leaving the horror of his ruined throat plain for all to see. He had been stripped down to his undergarments for purposes of the examination, revealing a line of grisly, purplish bruises running across his ribs and a series of bloody gouges down his right arm. He had clearly suffered a great deal before he had died, though judging by the depth of the wound in his neck, his final end had been swift.
"There's a reason for that," Varian said drily.
He was certainly not squeamish, but that didn't mean he enjoyed the sight of gore. Frankly, he was a little surprised that Anduin seemed so unfazed, given his comparative lack of combat experience, though the boy did have a remarkable ability to compartmentalise when it came to healing and other academic matters.
"I heard a few of the guards back at the camp saying that there were orders to move the body for examination, and I thought it might be a good opportunity to learn something. Both Lialdra and Yaali said I was welcome to observe," Anduin said hurriedly, as if that were the problem. "Lialdra actually met Auri in Draenor, did you know?"
Varian narrowed his eyes, though in a way he had to admire Anduin's persistence in pretending that he hadn't just been caught red handed.
"No, I didn't…" he said quietly, sparing a quick glance at Lialdra.
Like most blood elves Varian had met, she was very beautiful, with warm golden skin and bright strawberry-blonde hair. She had the slightly haughty bearing typical of her people; a trait amplified by the clinical detachment with which she observed the body on the table before her, and her eyes shone with a cool intelligence.
"It was only a brief meeting, Your Majesty, I doubt she remembers me," Lialdra elaborated. "She also had a rather impressive concussion at the time, which would not have helped. I healed her."
"At this point, I think nearly half the priests on Azeroth could make that claim," Varian muttered, mostly to himself.
He then gestured towards the corpse, and raised his voice. Another time, he might have found the coincidence at the very least mildly interesting, but today he had even less interest in exchanging pleasantries than normal.
"He's been beaten."
"Quite extensively, yes. You can see from the variation in the bruising pattern here and here that there was more than one assailant," the draenei priestess, Yaali, supplied. "At least two, probably three."
"It is difficult to ascertain time of death with a body this frozen," Lialdra added, "But I would be confident in suggesting that he was killed sometime late last night."
"Is there anything you can tell me about his identity?"
"Very little, I'm afraid," Yaali sighed, pulling thoughtfully at one of her horns. "I would wager he has spent a great deal of time as a soldier or a mercenary, judging from some of the older wounds on his body. He has not had an easy life."
"If he were an experienced soldier, it would have taken some effort to bring him down, right, Father? Maybe someone noticed a struggle, or an argument?" Anduin suggested.
It was a good observation, but Varian was feeling just petty enough about Anduin disobeying his orders that he wasn't particularly inclined to let on.
"Perhaps…" he said vaguely.
"We also found this around his neck," Lialdra said, holding out a bloodied leather torque with frayed ends. "It appears that there was some sort of talisman or charm attached, but it was ripped or cut off."
"Have you informed the investigation team of your findings?" Varian asked.
Yaali shook her head. She was clearly frustrated by their lack of progress, as was Lialdra, though the blood elf woman hid it better.
"Not as of yet. There is still work to be done before we are ready to relay our final report to Crusader Fallon here," Yaali said, nodding towards the paladin.
"In that case, I won't keep you," Varian said. "Thank you for your efforts thus far."
He gave the healers a curt but appreciative nod, then glanced towards his son.
"Anduin… could we please have a word outside?"
Anduin could scarcely have looked more like a kicked puppy if he had tried, though he nevertheless followed Varian out of the healing tent and into the snow. It was now perhaps an hour before sundown, and the Tournament grounds were quiet. Most people had already retired to their tents to hide from the evening chill, and to do whatever it was they did before taking dinner. Quite a few had also departed the Tournament in the wake of the bombing, scared for their safety, though not as many as Varian might have expected. Evidently, there were many who felt that the promise of further drinking, gambling, and bloodshed was worth the risk.
"Before you start, Father, I didn't technically sneak out; I had my guards escort me here, and they checked the tent before I went inside," Anduin insisted, as they made their way back towards the main part of the Alliance camp. "Then I told them to form a defensive perimeter, just like you taught me. You can see Anders over there, look…"
Captain Anders was, as promised, only about ten feet away, watching Anduin with hawk-like eyes and slowly keeping pace with them as they walked. Varian could see his three other guards too, trailing at a discreet distance and ready to leap into action at a moment's notice. It was rare that Anduin actually remembered to notify them of his movements, and Varian supposed he ought to be grateful for the improvement.
"Anduin, this isn't about you sneaking out… or whatever technical term you'd like to use for it," he said firmly. "I'm glad I found you, actually. I want you to return to Stormwind."
Anduin's face fell.
"What?! Father, please… I wasn't doing anything dangerous, I only wanted to learn…"
Varian shook his head.
"It's not about that. I said you could attend this Tournament so long as it was safe. Circumstances have changed."
He put a hand on Anduin's shoulder and gently steered him to one side, using the shade of a closed merchant's cart to give them some privacy. He cast a quick eye over their surroundings to ensure that they would not be overheard, but the only people within view were a group of inebriated goblins and what appeared to be a night elf druid attempting to (unsuccessfully) woo his female companion.
"This is not to be made public, but I thought you should know..." he muttered. "We have found evidence to suggest that I was the target of the bombing."
"You? Someone is trying to hurt you?"
In a split second, Anduin's expression shifted from one of disappointment and righteous indignation to genuine concern. His bright blue eyes widened in shock... and what Varian thought might have been real fear. They may have butted heads on occasion, but he knew that Anduin loved him deeply. He also knew what it was to lose a parent at a young age, and it was not something he ever wanted his son to experience.
"Apparently so," he said grimly. "And if someone is targeting Wrynns, I don't want you anywhere near this place."
Anduin's forehead creased in a heavy frown. It was not an expression he wore often, and one that made him look far older and more careworn than he actually was. Varian had always hated the fact that his son was forced to contend with such issues at a young age, but such was the life of a crown prince of Stormwind.
"But what about you? And Auri?" Anduin asked, a distinct note of urgency creeping into his voice.
"She's a champion, as am I. There would be significant diplomatic consequences if we were to withdraw or leave."
There might have been a case for Auriana alone to retire due to injury, but if both of them were to withdraw - or worse, depart for Stormwind - it was tantamount to a declaration that the Alliance was abandoning the Tournament. Staying would indicate that Varian had faith in both the objectives of the Tournament itself, and in its safety - even if that wasn't precisely how he felt… but that didn't mean Anduin had to remain in the line of fire.
"So you're staying. The Tournament will continue," Anduin surmised.
"I am," Varian confirmed. "The other leaders and I have agreed to continue… and while I ultimately think that is the right decision, I don't want to put you at risk, too."
He sighed.
"If we're all going to make it out of this Tournament alive, and… and… unified... I need to remain focused. You may not have noticed, but worrying after you takes up quite a lot of my time."
Despite himself, Anduin smiled, though the moment was short lived. He looked not at Varian as he fell back into deep thought, but at down at his boots, and there was something in the twist of his lips that reminded Varian a little of Tiffin. She had always held her head and scowled in a very particular way when she was struggling to make a decision, and although Anduin would have no memory of her in that way, he had somehow inherited the same expression.
"Anduin?"
Varian had expected a more vocal opposition to his request, and Anduin's thoughtful silence concerned him greatly. He didn't enjoy having to strongarm his son into compliance, though he was not afraid to do so if it was necessary to ensure his safety.
"Father... I don't want to go home..." Anduin murmured.
"I know," Varian said hurriedly, cutting him off. "Believe me, if I were in your position, if it were my father sending me home… I wouldn't be happy, either."
"If you'd let me finish..." Anduin countered, shooting Varian a stern look, "I don't want to go home… but… I do understand. If that bomb really was aimed at you… that changes things."
He looked away, turning his gaze towards the bright lights of the Alliance camp.
"You and I have obviously disagreed on the subject of Alliance/Horde relations in the past. When you first told me about this Tournament, I honestly didn't think it would ever become a reality…"
Varian nodded, but said nothing. 'Disagreed' was something of an understatement.
"I was so proud of you when you agreed to support Vol'jin's plan. I'm not sure I ever told you that, but it's true," Anduin murmured. "And if this Tournament is going to succeed… I agree that it needs your full attention. I saw what it did to you last year when Auri and I were under attack. And while neither you nor she can't leave… I can."
"You… you're really not going to fight me on this?" Varian asked, surprised.
"Would it make a difference?" Anduin chuckled. "But… no. I'll 'go quietly', as they say. It would be selfish of me to put my desire to stay over what is best for the Tournament."
Words failed Varian as he stared down at his son. He had admittedly underestimated Anduin's grasp of the situation, but he was filled with pride to see his son put his own feelings aside to make the decision that a king would make. He also knew that Anduin had made the decision for him, in an attempt to relieve some of the colossal weight of stress and responsibility that Varian bore upon his shoulders, and he was immensely grateful. He wasn't at all sure how to express such feelings aloud, however, so he settled for placing a hand on Anduin's shoulder and squeezing it firmly.
"Although… do I have to go right now?" Anduin added. "I wanted to check in on Auri. I stopped by her tent on the way here, actually, but the guards said she was asleep."
"Well, assuming she's now awake, I'm sure she would appreciate you joining us for dinner," Varian said. "Why don't you clean up and come by our tent in an hour or two? You can return to Stormwind in the morning."
"I'd like that," Anduin said, nodding. "Just… promise me one thing, will you?"
"Anything," Varian said quickly.
He half-expected Anduin to make a joking request for a particular dish at dinner, but instead his son's face hardened, and his lips drew into a thin line as his focus shifted to the destroyed arena in the distance behind them. Much as Varian had seen glimpses of Tiffin in Anduin's expression earlier, he now saw a reflection of his own grave countenance in Anduin's eyes, and he heard the slightest tremble in the boy's voice as he spoke in ominous warning.
"Watch your back."
After escorting a worried Anduin back to his own tent, Varian at long last made his way back to Auriana to find that she was no longer asleep, but rather sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed. Her hair was still mussed, as if she had only awoken recently, and her delicate feet were bare beneath her favourite silky nightgown. She was also wearing a heavier brocade dressing gown over the top, which was unusual, though Varian soon realised why. Behind the privacy screen that separated the main part of the tent from the bathing area, he could hear a few dull thumps and the sound of sloshing water, where one of Auriana's ladies' maids was presumably filling the tub.
"Auri… you're awake!" he exclaimed, swiftly crossing the room to her side. "How are you feeling?"
Up close, there were still dark circles beneath her eyes, though thankfully, she no longer looked quite as haggard as she had when Varian had first found her out on the ice. Most of the colour had returned to her cheeks, and her eyes and general demeanour were considerably more alert. She was not smiling, however, and in truth looked rather less pleased to see Varian than he might have ordinarily expected.
"I feel fine."
Her tone was affectedly neutral, and she wouldn't quite look him in the eye.
"I actually woke up an hour ago," she added, her expression full of reproach. "I wanted to come and find you, but the guards forbid me from leaving. So, failing that, I called for a bath."
Ah.
"Not their fault," Varian clarified. "My orders."
He had hoped to have returned from his errands before Auriana awoke, knowing that she would likely take some issue with his instructions to the guards… though he hadn't imagined she would be quite so cross with him as she appeared.
Perhaps I used up all my luck in getting Anduin to agree to return to Stormwind, he mused wryly.
"I figured as much. Apparently, they're more afraid of you than they are of me," Auriana grumbled.
Her eyes flicked briefly towards the privacy screen. She clearly wanted to say more, but was reluctant to do so in earshot of her maid.
"Well, you don't have your magic," Varian pointed out.
He had meant it as a teasing, lighthearted comment, but it served only to deepen her frown.
"Don't remind me."
Auriana let out a loud, irritable huff, and ran her hands through her loose, unkempt hair. Varian sat down beside her and kicked off his boots, keeping a close watch on her out of the corner of his eye. Her displeasure radiated off her like heat, though Varian hardly thought he was being unreasonable. While Auriana was clearly not in any imminent danger, it was a minor miracle that she and Vol'jin had made it out of the pit alive, and Varian wasn't about to have his injured wife wandering around the Tournament with a mad bomber on the loose.
No matter how much it might irritate her… he thought to himself, subconsciously mimicking her frown.
"Any news on that body I found?" Auriana asked, pointedly changing the topic before Varian could express his concerns out loud.
"Unfortunately, not much beyond what we already knew," he sighed, fiddling with the buttons on his overcoat. "Male, human, some sort of mercenary by the looks of him. Died sometime last night. His throat slit from ear to ear, as you saw, though according to the healers, he was also beaten quite badly before his death."
"Do you think he was the bomber?" Auriana asked.
"I have no idea," Varian said truthfully. "There was nothing on his corpse to suggest he was involved, but I don't think there's enough information to rule him out, either. Fordring's men are investigating, as is SI:7, though they've yet to turn up anything of value."
"I'll admit, I was hoping I would wake up to something more…"
Auriana bit her lip, as she often did when she was deep in thought, but before either she or Varian could say anything further, they were interrupted by a surreptitious cough from the ladies maid; a matronly blonde woman from Goldshire named Eveline Harding.
Auriana had been reluctant to select her ladies maids when she had become his Queen, insisting that she had been dressing herself for nearly thirty years and was perfectly capable of continuing to do so. She had eventually changed her mind when confronted by some of the more complex garments necessitated by her new station, and after an exhaustive interview process, had finally compromised on two women. Two was far less than someone of her station would normally command - Tiffin had employed six, along with a number of ladies in waiting - though Auriana seemed perfectly content with the arrangement. She mostly preferred to dress herself and tend to her own ablutions, though she had conceded that her maids were far better than she at managing her more elaborate looks.
"My apologies for the interruption, my lady, but your bath has been drawn. Nice and hot, just the way you like it," Eveline said kindly. "Will you be needing anything else?"
Auriana pulled her dressing gown a little tighter across her chest as her maid approached, though she returned Eveline's warmth with a small smile.
"No, thank you," she said quickly. "That'll be all for tonight - you ought to go enjoy the Tournament. I heard a rumour that the Barleybrew and Thunderbrew dwarves are hosting a drinking competition outside the Alliance mess tent later tonight."
"Perhaps I will. I don't believe I've ever seen a genuine dwarven drinking contest," Eveline agreed, returning Auriana's smile. "Enjoy your evening, Your Majesties."
She was evidently not blind to the undercurrent of tension in the tent, judging from the way her lips pursed as she looked between Varian and Auriana, though she was far too discreet and well-trained to make a comment. Instead, she gave a small curtsey, before gathering her cloak from the back of a nearby chair and making a timely exit.
Varian waited until the tent flap had been properly secured in her wake, then turned his full attention back to Auriana. He had wanted to speak to hear earlier, when they had first returned to the tent, but between the healers and her own exhaustion, they had barely said three proper words to one another before she had fallen asleep.
"Are you alright? Really?" he asked.
It was difficult enough for Auriana to admit when she was hurting to him, let alone to other people, and he wondered if she had held back knowing that her maid was only ten feet away. It seemed that he had miscalculated, however, for she tensed at the question, and while her expression did not change, he could feel the air around her grow thick with exasperation.
"I am. Really," she said, her voice clipped. "One of the healers came by again, not even half an hour ago. Nothing has changed - I'm bruised and tired, but perfectly healthy. I'm certainly not going to drop dead in the next ten minutes, so you can stop treating me as if I will."
Varian shot her a heated look.
"Can you really blame me for my concern?" he growled. "Seeing you fall into that pit was… well. Let's just say it's not an experience I'm keen to repeat."
He wished that she could understand how it felt sometimes, waiting for her to come back from yet another life-threatening adventure. She was so often used to being the person in danger that she had little understanding of how it felt to be the person left behind. That wasn't to say he was perfect in the way he handled things, or that he wasn't prone to bouts of overprotectiveness, but sometimes he wished she would meet him halfway. She wasn't reckless, exactly, but nor did she place an especially high value on her own life. It also didn't help that he couldn't get Sylvanas's words out of his mind - nor the horror of his subsequent nightmares.
Everything you love is destroyed.
Varian shook himself to clear his head. His focus was owed to the woman in front of him, not a meddling undead witch who was only looking to stir up trouble.
"I don't mean to frustrate you," he added, more gently, "But your safety and wellbeing mean everything to me."
He tentatively took Auriana's hand in his, running his thumb over her the back of her knuckles. He half-expected her to pull away, though she silently permitted him to entwine his fingers through hers.
"I know that. I do," she conceded, her defensive posture softening ever so slightly as she stared down at their linked hands. "It's just… I've had a lot worse, and we both know it."
"That's precisely what concerns me," Varian sighed. "I fear you've downplaying your symptoms because they're not as bad as you've had in the past…"
"I'm not. Trust me," she said firmly. "Please?"
For a moment, Varian considered telling Auriana exactly what Sylvanas had said that had him so spooked, but he decided against it. He was a grown man, a king, not some little boy running from bad dreams. He didn't want to waste their time together arguing, either, not after the night they had both suffered, and so he forced his fears down deep inside as far as they would go.
"Come on," he said instead. "Your bath will get cold."
Varian rose to his feet and held out his hand, which Auriana accepted after only a moment's hesitation, and together they made their way back around to the other side of the privacy screen. There, a lone copper bathtub was raised on a square wooden platform, with a small pipe tunneling its way outside so that water could be drained. It was large, too, as per Varian's express request; almost as large as their bath back home in Stormwind. Auriana was loathe to admit it, but a good hot bath was one of the few luxuries she allowed herself, and he had thought that she might particularly appreciate the amenity after a hard day in the arena.
In the far corner, a small fire was burning - both to keep the space warm, and to provide a means of heating water. Eveline had thoughtfully left a second pail over the fire for Auriana to add once the water currently in the tub began to cool, and had scented the space with earthy silversage and something floral that Varian couldn't quite place. All in all, it was almost as comfortable as their bath chamber back in Stormwind - which was a rather impressive feat considering they were in a tent on the edge of a glacier at the very roof of the world.
Auriana appeared to agree, judging from the speed with which she set about shrugging out of her robe and removing her nightgown, until she soon stood before him wearing nothing at all. Varian felt his pulse quicken, as it always did when he saw her naked, though he was distracted by the mess of painful, ugly bruises across her shoulders. She looked truly awful, but he wisely decided that it was best not to comment; choosing instead to silently offer her his arm so that she might climb into the tub without slipping.
"I smell like a cave," she remarked, her lip curling in distaste as she raised her arm to accept Varian's assistance. "A dank, dark, dirty cave."
"I don't think you can blame the cave alone," Varian teased, hoping he might make her smile. "I think there's a whiff of nerubian in there too."
"Oh, well then, that's much better…"
Auriana groaned as she slid into the water, though a distinct note of pleasure thrummed deep within her throat. The water was deep enough that it rose to the level of her collarbones, and was still so hot as to turn her normally pale skin a soft pink. She did not seem to mind the heat, however, and spent a few quiet minutes happily stretching out her sore limbs and dipping her head beneath the surface.
More than content to indulge her, Varian discarded his coat and sat down on the edge of the wooden platform with his back leaning up against the side of the tub. The heat of the water through his shirt was surprisingly relaxing, combining with the heady scent of the silversage to send him into a drowsy langour. He allowed his heavy eyes to drift shut, and for the first time since Auriana had fallen into the pit, he felt truly at rest.
"What is it with you and caves, anyway?" he asked quietly, breaking the silence.
"Caves?" Auriana repeated.
A few stray droplets of water spattered the side of Varian's face as she reached for a washcloth and a bar of soap.
"You appear to be making a habit of getting lost in the wild with the leadership of Azeroth," Varian elaborated, turning his head to watch as she gingerly lathered her arms and shoulders. "First with me, back in Tanaan, and now with Vol'jin. And by all accounts, it seems you had a rather eye-opening conversation with him, as well."
Auriana brushed her eyes free of water, and tilted her head to one side.
"Eye-opening? I didn't change my mind about Vol'jin, if that's what you're getting at," she said slowly.
"You didn't?"
"I already held him in very high esteem, even before we were trapped together," she explained.
She paused.
"It was you I couldn't stand."
Varian scowled, and Auriana's mouth twitched at the corners as she struggled to hold back a teasing smile; her strange little way of making peace after their earlier clash. It wasn't a lie, either - she had despised him - though he fervently hoped that she would never have cause to look on him that way ever again. The very first moment he had seen her, she had been standing with Khadgar's other mages in Stormshield - tiny, fierce, and not a little contemptuous. At the time, he had barely given her a second glance, and had they not been forced together by circumstances beyond either of their control, he may never have seen her again. He likely would not have even remembered her name. They would have remained merely King and subject forever, and Varian's life would have been immeasurably poorer for it.
In a strange way, he was grateful to the traitor whose actions had brought them together. If he had not been betrayed to the Iron Horde on that fateful day, he and Auriana never would have saved each other's lives in Tanaan, never would have become friends… and later, so much more. Varian would have laughed if someone had told him on that day that he had just met his future wife, but now he needed her like he needed to breathe. She had changed him for the better in so many ways, and the mere thought of a life lived without her was enough to make his chest constrict.
"Varian?"
Auriana's quiet voice broke through his reverie, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts.
"Hmm?"
"You're staring," she remarked. "Something on my face? Or are my jokes really that bad?"
She self-consciously pushed her damp hair back behind her ears, and gave him a small, tentative smile.
"No," he said quickly. "You're perfect."
Auriana's smile widened, and she came over to lean up against the edge of the tub beside his head. She reached out for a strand of hair at the end of his tail, and twisted it about her finger in a playful fashion. She was not usually so demonstrative, and Varian found her tenderness especially encouraging in the wake of their earlier disagreement.
"I take it you spoke to Vol'jin, then?" she asked.
"I did," he replied, leaning into her touch. "He seems to hold you in similarly high regard."
"Oh?"
"He said you were one of the most remarkable people he's ever met - human, troll, or otherwise."
Varian kept his tone neutral, though he was not ignorant of the slight stab of jealousy that twinged deep in his gut. It was a stupid, petty thing, but he found it difficult to ignore the fact that when she had been in trouble, once again he had failed to come to her rescue. In this case, Varian's jealousy was also uncomfortably tinged with guilt, as it was only due to his having been targeted that she had been in trouble in the first place. He did not wish to spoil the moment, however, and so once again he chose to keep his mouth shut.
"That's a very kind thing to say," Auriana said lightly.
"Well, not that I disagree with the Warchief's assessment, but… what exactly happened down there?"
Auriana's hands stilled in his hair, and Varian felt her shrug.
"I don't know, we just… talked, I guess," she said hesitantly, as if she weren't quite sure how to describe the encounter. "Like two people, not a Warchief and a Queen. I've met him before, obviously, but I've not really spoken to him on a personal level. He's very clever. And… softer than I might have expected from a man who bears the title of 'Warchief'. Not soft, in an absolute sense, but… kinder. More insightful."
She let out a short chuckle.
"It's funny, the entire time I couldn't help but to remember that I'm named after a woman who made her reputation fighting trolls during the Troll Wars. Rather ironic, don't you think?"
"Indeed."
Varian twisted around where he sat, and rested his own arms up against the edge of the tub so that he and Auriana were more or less sitting face to face.
"Vol'jin also said you stabbed a nerubian through the mouth with its own leg."
"Oh, yes," she said blithely, as if it were the sort of thing one did every day, "I did. But only because he ripped the damn thing off first."
Auriana ducked her head briefly beneath the surface for a second time; emerging a few moments later with her dark hair plastered to her neck and small droplets shining along the lengths of her eyelashes. The firefight glinting off the water turned her skin a deep, rich gold, and her eyes the deep, inky black of the ocean at night. After a long night beneath the ice, the hot water must have been a welcome change, and it seemed she was determined to soak up every last drop of warmth.
"Did you know that he has children? Vol'jin, I mean," she remarked, returning to her position at the edge of the tub. "Three, in fact. I couldn't believe It."
Varian hesitated for a second.
"I… I did know, actually…" he said slowly.
"Really?"
Auriana's eyebrows shot up upwards, and she leaned towards him with great interest. Varian shrugged.
"When Vol'jin became Warchief," he explained, "I had Shaw conduct a thorough investigation of his past. I wanted to know who I was dealing with… whether he could be trusted, or whether he was another Garrosh Hellscream. Shaw uncovered the names and locations of Vol'jin's children as part of that investigation."
"You never told me."
It wasn't an accusation, merely an observation.
"I never told anyone," Varian clarified. "After I read the report, I had Shaw destroy it. He and I are the only ones who ever knew."
Auriana's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and she stared at Varian like she could see right through him.
"Why would you destroy the report?" she asked. "You're no fool, you know what that kind of information could be worth…"
Varian sighed and rested his head on his hands; unable to tell from Auriana's expression what she thought of his actions. In truth, Shaw had asked a similar question at the time. Stormwind's spymaster was far too loyal to outright refuse an order, of course, but he had - carefully - questioned his King's decision. Varian himself had been unusually unsure of himself in the moment, but had eventually concluded that destroying the intelligence had been the right thing to do… though he wasn't quite sure how to explain his logic to Auriana.
"From the moment he was born, people have tried to use Anduin against me. And not just the Horde… some of the less scrupulous elements within the Alliance have tried, too," he said gravely. "A few nearly succeeded. Hell, Garrosh just about killed him with the Divine Bell… and not because he had any particular grudge against Anduin, but because he knew it was the most effective way to hurt me. And… it did."
Varian let out a long, shaky breath, trying his best to ignore the memory of his son, his beloved boy, crushed and broken in an infirmary in Pandaria.
"When I learned of Vol'jin's children… and the lengths he had gone to in order to keep them secret… call me weak or foolish, but I couldn't… I couldn't put someone else in that position. No matter what title they bear."
Varian glanced up at Auriana for the first time since he had started to explain himself, but her expression was unreadable. He thought she might censor him, or at the very least express surprise at what many may have seen as something of a strategic error, but she merely nodded, and brushed her damp fingers across his forearm in a simple gesture of support that nonetheless sent shivers down his spine.
"You're a good man, Varian," she said seriously.
"That's debatable," he muttered, barking out a gruff cough to disguise the sudden prick of emotion in his voice. "But I have my honour. I don't fight dirty. I don't use children."
Despite his outward confidence, Varian had spent most of his life wrestling with his inner demons. He had certainly done things he wasn't proud of, but he tried, and he hoped that, on balance, he had done more good for his people and for Azeroth than bad. On his bad days, which still happened more often than he cared to admit, he felt as if he were just about the furthest thing in the world from a good man. But when she said it, soft and sincere in that warm, husky voice, he could almost believe that it was true...
"Speaking of fighting dirty…" Auriana added, once again pulling him out of his brooding thoughts, "Did you learn anything about that bomb? I don't know if some sort of fancy proper name, but it was a two-chambered device that mixes particularly reactive chemicals in order to create an explosion."
Varian blanched.
"Do you really get blown up so often that you can identify specific bombs by the nature of the detonation?" he asked, only half-joking.
He wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer.
"No! Well… in this case… yes. Sort of," she admitted sheepishly. "I got a pretty good look at the thing before it exploded, and as it turns out, I've seen bombs like that before, when I was serving in Northrend."
"Sure…" he said skeptically, earning himself a splash in the face for his troubles.
She gave him a look.
"Not because they were aimed at me, mind."
Auriana screwed up her nose in concentration, and began to trace thoughtful circles on the surface of the water as she spoke.
"What I couldn't work out is why the bomb exploded when it did. A bomb like that has no mechanical timer, and it can't be detonated remotely. There is just no way someone could have triggered it at the exact moment Vol'jin and I were walking past. So if it wasn't intended to harm us, then who?"
Varian raked his teeth over his lower lip and scowled. He had expected her to ask, eventually - she was far too clever to miss the problem of the bomb's timing - but he had seriously considered not telling her the truth. Not because he didn't trust her, of course, but because more than anything he hated to upset or worry her. He knew that such an instinct was unfair, however - she was an adult, and his equal; not a small child to be shielded from the uncomfortable realities of the world. He had made that error before, and did not intend to make it again.
"Well… you're correct; neither you nor Vol'jin were the target," he explained quietly. "The bomb was… poorly made. Our engineers were able to determine that it was meant to explode much earlier than it actually did."
"That makes more sense, at least…" Auriana said, nodding, "Though it also means that the bomber must have intended to hurt or kill one of the other champions. Do we know who?"
She turned her head to look at him directly, her blue eyes wide and curious. Varian took a deep breath.
"Me," he said simply.
"What? What do you mean, you?"
In barely half a second, Auriana's relaxed, languid posture grew tense and wary, and Varian could have sworn that he felt the temperature of the room drop. It was impossible, of course, given that she was cut off from her powers while within the Tournament grounds, but her eyes had taken on the hard, steely sheen that usually accompanied some great feat of magic, and she was all but shaking with barely repressed fury.
"The bomb was intended to explode at midday, and it was placed at the north gate. Hence… me," he said slowly.
"Varian, if that's a joke, it's in very poor taste," Auriana snapped.
"No joke," he assured her. "The engineers were quite confident in their assessment. The bomb was meant for me."
"But… but why would anyone want to kill you?" she demanded, her upper lip curling into a snarl.
Varian very much doubted that Auriana was actually so naïve that she couldn't fathom why someone might want to kill him, but she seemed to consider an attack upon his person to be a personal affront.
"Any number of reasons, I would imagine," he sighed. "After all, I'm the High King of the Alliance, the King of Stormwind… and - depending on who you ask - a rather stubborn and abrasive bastard in general. Frankly, I'm a little surprised it doesn't happen more often."
He quirked an eyebrow.
"Or perhaps it's because my beautiful wife and I are undefeated in the arena?"
It was an admittedly weak attempt to diffuse the tension, but Auriana wasn't having a bar of it. A vein at the corner of her eye began to twitch, and she looked as if she were just about ready to tear apart the Tournament with her bare hands.
"I'm not amused, Varian," she growled. "You could be in serious danger."
"What do you want me to say?" he muttered, rankling slightly at the unspoken implication that he was somehow incapable of looking after himself. "Fordring has doubled his patrols. The grounds are being swept again as we speak, and I have sent for additional support from Stormwind. The Horde have done the same."
"Varian…"
"I know how to protect myself. I'm not some useless dilettante king who can't tell which end of a sword is which, I'm… oh."
Varian swiftly shut his mouth. In a moment of stark clarity, he realised that he now sounded exactly like Auriana had earlier, while she had taken on the role of the frustrated protector. His stomach twisted in an odd mix of guilt and embarrassment, and he forcibly pushed the defensive tension from his back and shoulders. It was in both their natures to fight, to argue, to do whatever it took to win… which, while an excellent quality in a soldier or war leader, was rather less beneficial in a marriage.
Auriana wasn't challenging his competency, just as he had not been questioning hers when he had expressed his fears for her health. She spoke from a place of love, as had he… even if they were both too stubborn and proud to see it sometimes...
"Auri… I am taking this seriously, I promise," he murmured, reaching out to stroke her hair. "We made a commitment to be here, and - despite my misgivings - I think we ought to stay. That said, I'm not in a great hurry to rush off and do something stupid. I have too much to live for."
Auriana huffed, and sunk lower in the water so that her lips were only barely above the surface.
"Is this how you felt last year, when Anduin and I were under attack?" she asked, the movement of her lips sending tiny ripples along the water.
"More or less."
It was something of an understatement. In truth, the thought of losing either Auriana or Anduin felt like drowning; an inescapable, crushing pressure in his chest that made it nearly impossible to breathe.
"It's much how I felt last night, too..." he added gently.
It was not Varian's intent to censure her, merely to guide her to the same realisation he had experienced only moments ago. Indeed, Auriana's face twisted into a fierce scowl as she instinctively made to argue... only for her shoulders to slump defeatedly a moment later as she begrudgingly arrived at the same conclusion.
"Point taken," she mumbled, her cheeks colouring. "I am something of a hypocrite, aren't I? Here I am, getting all cross with you for being protective, when I'm a second away from burning down the entire Tournament to keep you safe."
She closed her eyes and winced.
"It's awful. I'm never afraid for myself… but for you… if I were to lose you…"
"You won't," Varian said firmly. "I've faced down all manner of foes over the years - dragons, orcs, naga… and I've always lived to tell the tale. It will take more than a single incompetent bomber to do me in."
"I'm just… I'm so used to being the one in trouble, not the one doing the worrying," Auriana sighed. "I'm sorry, I…"
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he assured her quickly. "And if you do, then I owe you the same apology. I hardly have a leg to stand on when it comes to lecturing others about being overprotective…"
He shook his head ruefully.
"We're too alike sometimes, you and I. It seems that neither one of us are especially rational when it comes to the safety of the other. At least we can be hypocrites together, eh?"
Varian dipped his hand into the water, and flicked his fingers to send a small spray of droplets in her direction.
"Though I must admit, it's kind of nice to have you worrying after me for a change."
He flashed Auriana a brief smile, and despite herself, she returned the gesture in kind. All too soon, however, her eyes darkened, and she grew pensive once more.
"Auri…"
"I'm sorry, I…"
She let out a terse, irritable sigh, and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"It worries me that if something were to happen, I wouldn't be able to protect you," she muttered. "I hate… I hate being stuck under this damn field. It's like half of me is missing…"
Auriana stared down at her hands, and the faint white scars that dusted her forearms. They were dormant, now, almost invisible beneath the shifting, firelit surface of the water, though Varian had no doubt they would be fully illuminated were the dampening field not in place.
"Vol'jin and I got lucky, down in that cave," she admitted painfully. "If I'd been alone, I would have been dead. I would have had no way to defend myself."
She closed her fists beneath the water, and when she spoke, her voice was bitter.
"Without my magic, I'm… I'm nothing."
Not for the first time, Varian wished that Auriana could see herself as he did. All too often, she saw only her faults and her failings and her scars, and not the things that made her the remarkable woman that he loved.
"That is not true," he said vehemently. "It isn't. For crying out loud, woman, you killed a nerubian with its own damn leg."
He sat up straightedible because of your magic," Varian murmured. "Your magic is incredible because of you. Without your magic, you are still brave, and clever, and you never give up. I didn't fall in love with you because you're a damn mage, Auri, I fell in love with you for your heart."
Auriana studiously avoided his gaze, though Varian felt her lean ever so slightly into his touch. Had she been anyone else, he might have thought it a simple reflex, but from her, it was as much of an indication of her love as a shouted declaration. She took a few deep breaths as he held her, the rise and fall of her chest sending ripples across the water, and for several minutes they sat in silence as she fought to collect herself. She was clearly overwhelmed by emotion - fear, rage and sadness all - though Varian hoped that it would be the love between them that she felt the most keenly.
Eventually, Auriana's breathing slowed to a regular pace and she shook herself slightly, as if trying to physically force her negative thoughts from her body. Varian withdrew his hand from her cheek, though he remained within arms reach as he settled back down against the side of the bath.
"There was an extensive debate over whether or not the Tournament ought to continue," he ventured, in a not-so-subtle attempt to shift the topic of conversation to something a bit lighter.
He hated to see Auriana upset, and he knew full well that if he allowed her to dwell she would spend the rest of the evening brooding. He often had much the same problem, himself, and he knew how easy it was to follow such thoughts down and down into a very dark place.
"Oh?"
Auriana glanced upwards. Her expression remained guarded, but her interest had clearly been piqued. She had thoroughly enjoyed fighting - and winning - at the Tournament thus far, and Varian knew she would have been disappointed if it were to have finished without any real resolution.
"Both the Alliance and Horde have agreed to continue," he confirmed. "Tournament operations will remain suspended for another few days to allow you and Vol'jin time to recover, and to allow Jaina time to fix the wards, but we will then resume the fighting in the secondary outdoor arena."
"That's… somewhat surprising," Auriana admitted. "I thought everyone would already have one foot out the door..."
"There's still a lot of mistrust," Varian agreed, "But actually being here… seeing the good this has done, people cheering on champions both Alliance and Horde, toasting together… I think it's changed some minds."
Auriana shot him a shrewd look.
"Has it changed yours?"
Varian considered her question thoughtfully, not entirely sure of the answer himself. He had been reluctant to commit the Alliance to the Tournament - not so much so that he had been unable or unwilling to see its potential value, but reluctant nonetheless. Nearly a week into the Tournament, his natural skepticism still remained, though he was not blind to the positive atmosphere and cooperative spirit that the event had engendered thus far. The bombing hadn't helped matters, but even he could acknowledge that, for the most part, the Alliance and Horde were getting along better than they had in years.
"I'm still here, aren't I?" he grunted. "Besides, we both know it would kill you to have to leave here without ever knowing who would have won the Tournament. I couldn't very well let that happen, now could I?"
Auriana tried very, very hard to look affronted by his reasoning, but given that Varian had correctly deduced her motivation, she didn't have much of an argument.
"No, I suppose not…" she grudgingly conceded.
Her eyes narrowed as she was struck by sudden thought, and she stared at Varian like she could see right through him.
"Are you sure that's the only reason? Please tell me you don't have some kind of insane plan to use yourself as bait…"
Varian swore silently. Sometimes, the fact that she knew him so well was downright inconvenient.
"The thought had crossed my mind…" he confessed. "The way I see it, if someone were to come after me again… the arena is the safest place for me to be. I'll have access to a weapon - albeit a blunt one - and you'll have your magic."
"You sound awfully confident…" she observed, though it was clear she didn't entirely disagree with his assessment.
"I'm not afraid, Auri. I refuse to be. Whoever is trying to stir up trouble has already failed once. We now know that they're coming, and that gives us the advantage."
Varian brushed a hand through his hair, and readjusted his seat. As much as he was enjoying the opportunity for a long overdue conversation with his wife, he was starting to lose feeling in his left buttock.
"That said… I have asked Anduin to return Stormwind," he admitted. "Just as a precaution. I think Genn intends to do the same with Tess."
"I bet that went down well," she snorted.
"Much better than I expected, actually," Varian admitted. "I don't think he's pleased, but he understood. Although… Tess and Anduin, alone in Stormwind, without supervision… who knows what kind of trouble they might concoct. Perhaps they would be safer here."
Auriana pulled a strange face, and not for the first time, he got the sense that she knew something about Anduin and Tess that he didn't.
"Certainly safer for the people of Stormwind," she remarked.
Varian rested his chin on the edge of the tub, and barked out an awkward cough.
"Do you know if they're… if they're… you know…" He made a vaguely suggestive gesture with his left hand. "Anduin and Tess, I mean..."
Auriana's eyebrows shot up into her hairline, and a faint blush blossomed along the high arch of her cheekbones.
"Are… are you asking if they're involved romantically?" she stammered. "Uh… not that I'm aware. She likes to tease him, and they enjoy each other's company… but I don't think there's anything more than friendship there. It's not like either of them have many friends their own age."
She stared vaguely off into the distance for a moment, as if trying to picture Anduin and Tess together, before turning back to Varian with a bemused frown.
"If you really want to know, why not just ask him?"
Varian considered the question thoughtfully.
"I suppose... I don't want him to think I'm pressuring him. I was already betrothed by his age, and it is about time I should look into finding him a match. Tess is a compelling choice for many reasons…" he admitted.
Given that they were each the sole heirs to two of the last remaining human kingdoms, a union between Anduin and Tess made a great deal of political sense. She was also intelligent, well-educated, and beautiful - and, as Auriana had pointed out, already had a rapport with Anduin. Thanks to a few not-so-subtle comments, Varian knew that Genn highly favoured the match, though he had no idea whether the Gilnean King had actually raised the issue with his headstrong daughter.
"But?" Auriana prompted, sensing the hesitation in his voice.
"Tiffin and I… we were fortunate in that we came to genuinely love one another," he said, sighing deeply, "But with arranged marriages, that tends to be the exception rather than the rule."
Varian thought back to the first time he and Tiffin had met as adults. She had thought him far too brash and cocky, and he had found her prim and humourless. They had grown to care for each other over time, but Varian didn't doubt that their marriage would have been a very unhappy affair had their initial opinions remained unchanged. They both would have done their duty, but replacing love with duty was a very lonely way to live a life.
"I don't want a loveless marriage for my son. Being a king is hard, and lonely. I want him to know genuine trust, and affection. I want him to have a partner, someone he can trust - a true equal," he said emphatically, reaching for Auriana's hand as he spoke. "If that's Tess, wonderful, but if it's not… I don't want him to feel as if he has no choice in the matter."
Auriana knotted her fingers with his, and smiled softly in acknowledgement of his implied compliment.
"That's understandable. Though do you really think Anduin would come to me first, if there were something going on?" she asked, tilting her head to one side with a skeptical expression.
"Over me? Absolutely. I've tried to be better in recent years, but we all know I'm awful at that sort of conversation." Varian jerked his chin in her general direction. "You're a bit more… approachable. Especially when it comes to more sensitive matters."
Auriana threw back her head and barked out a short laugh, only to cut off abruptly when she realised that he was serious. She released his hand, and tucked her dripping hair back behind her ears as if she were certain she must have misheard.
"Varian, I'd freeze," she insisted. "Stars above, what if he wanted advice?"
"You're not some dewy-eyed teenager, Auriana, you know… things. Would it really be that difficult to talk to him?" he wondered.
"I could ask you the same question," she pointed out. "Besides, I can barely talk about sex with you without blushing, and we're husband and wife."
Even as she spoke, the faint colour about her cheekbones darkened to a ruddy scarlet and spread across her nose.
"Hold on, who said anything about sex?!" Varian spluttered, feeling his own cheeks blaze suddenly hot. "Light, Auri, I meant you could give him some tips on how to talk to girls, not… how to bed them."
He was hardly a prude, but it was rather difficult not to be when discussing his son.
"Presumably at some point Anduin is going to find someone he wants to be intimate with," Auriana said drily. "What, did you think your grandchildren were going to materialize out of thin air?"
Varian scowled. He knew that Anduin was now more or less an adult in his own right, though it was hard to shake the image of him as an energetic, curious little boy. Perhaps it was due to the fact that Varian had missed so much of Anduin's childhood - first to his own depression over Tiffin's death, and then to his later kidnapping and enslavement - but he wasn't quite ready for Anduin to be a man grown. Certainly not a man with children of his own.
Am I really old enough to be a grandfather?
"Well… no, but… do you think he'd come to me to ask about… about that?" Varian grumbled, unconsciously echoing Auriana's earlier words.
She shrugged, inadvertently splashing his chest with a light spray of water.l
"Yes, I do. Anduin values your opinion enormously," she said seriously. "More than either of you realise, sometimes."
"Maybe so, but I'd hardly consider myself an expert on women…" he snorted.
Auriana cocked her head to the side.
"Oh, don't be too hard on yourself, Varian, you're not entirely clueless…"
She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands; looking like the very definition of innocence as she stared up at him with wide, doe-like eyes.
"Thank you, Auriana, for that ringing endorsement of my amatory skills," he grunted.
He fixed her with his most withering glare, though she seemed supremely unmoved by his consternation. Only her eyes gave her true feelings away, sparkling with teasing amusement while her face remained as placid and serene as a doll.
Oh, I see how it is...
Varian pushed himself to his feet with a low, rumbling growl, deciding that it was high time they stopped talking. He cherished every second of their conversation, disagreements and all, but he felt they were both long overdue for a release of tension. There were some things that were better said without words, and he'd always been more of a man of action, in any case.
He stood up to his full height, well aware of just how much he towered over Auriana where she sat with her knees pulled up to her chest. A faint flicker of uncertainty crossed her face as he advanced upon her, which quickly turned to a curious mix of delight and alarm as he grabbed the side of the tub and in a single, smooth movement, stepped into the water - shirt, pants, and all.
"Varian! What are you doing?" Auriana squealed.
Making you smile.
"Apparently, you don't think very much of me as a lover," he growled, struggling to hide his own selfish grin. "I believe it is incumbent upon me to correct this grave error with all haste…"
"But you're fully clothed!" she protested, the words almost lost in a sudden burst of laughter.
As Varian had hoped, Auriana broke into a rare, beaming smile, and she was so beautiful that for a second he felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Any friction that still lingered between them vanished in an instant, and everything else in the world - the Tournament, the bombing, the Alliance, the Horde, all of it - simply faded away. He pushed towards her through the warm water, the soaking fabric of his clothing tightening around his muscles as he slid a hand around her slender waist and pulled her against him. Her skin was slick and warm beneath his hands, and the tantalising press of her breasts against his chest was enough to drive him almost to the point of madness.
"Is that so?" he murmured, stroking the small of her back in a way that he knew was guaranteed to make her shiver.
"Yes, you great lump! You're saturated, you..."
She trailed off with a breathless pant; the words catching in her throat as Varian's teeth grazed the delicate skin of her neck. Despite her protestions, her eyes were all but burning with a lust that rivalled his own, and Varian couldn't help but to feel a distinct sense of smug satisfaction. He had succeeded in distracting her, in making her smile... and now he was faced with the welcome challenge of making her gasp and sigh and cry out his name.
"Well then," he murmured, catching her firmly by the wrist and guiding her hand to the buttons straining to hold his clinging shirt in place, "I suppose you'll just have to undress me…"
