A wee bit of a shorter chapter. I also took some creative liberties in describing shaman healing; hopefully it's not totally out there lol.
By the next morning the iciness from the late night argument had thawed. Morning was a new day, bringing with it new heights and leaving behind the wrongs of yesterday. The priest had slept later than his father when he rose at dawn, but was awake by the time he finished shaving and emerged from the bathroom. Varian had halted in his steps when his eyes landed on the teen; kneeling in front of his bed with his forehead pressed down on his clasped hands resting on the mattress, his whispered prayers carried an angelic grace that even made someone as skeptical as Varian bow his head briefly. Normally the royals were afforded the luxury of their own accommodations, and as Varian couldn't remember the last time he visited his son in his room in the morning, he was left wondering if the priest went through the pious ritual daily. He would've asked if he wasn't concerned with shattering the boy's devotion and concentration, though the king did conveniently sit on the edge of his bed nearest Anduin to pull on his boots in hopes to hear his whispered words.
"...pray for wisdom that I need to…. and for the knowledge to know what is right and when the… pray for peace to find itself in our hearts and guide us… for him to understand and accept this guidance…"
Varian didn't have to wonder who his son was referring to. And suddenly feeling very sheepish at the thought of the priest finding him eavesdropping on his private moment, the king quietly pushed himself up from the bed with the intention of returning to his work. The treasury reports undoubtedly asking for a hike in Redridge taxes couldn't be delayed for much longer, lest he wanted to deal with an angry pack of Nobles when he returned to Stormwind.
A sharp knock on the door saved him the headache.
Assuming he already knew who it was, Varian quickly gathered up his mess of reports and tucked them back inside ledgers and envelopes, ensuring that no affairs regarding his kingdom or faction remained in the open. As eager as he was for his son to be cared for, he was ever an astute commander well versed in prying eyes.
Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Anduin was decent and finished with his prayers, he was met with the teen's warm smile as he tucked himself back into bed. It was a small gesture, a mere smile, but Varian returned it with his own gruff one. The words weren't needed, no apologies spoken, but it was more than felt between the father and son.
"Enter."
The door immediately opened for the expected raven-haired, blue-eyed Orc to step through. Carrying a tray with three teacups filled with dried flowers and herbs and an elaborately decorated tea kettle with glass mosaic tiles in a very Kal'dorei fashion, he paused at the king. "King Varian Wrynn," the Orc bowed respectfully, the greeting coming out in a melodic sort of grumble free of any animosity but still taut with respect.
"Thrall," Varian dipped his forehead down so subtly it was nearly missed, but it was a profound gesture for the proud king. "He was able to get through the night without...much issue. He's certainly regained his spirits."
Thrall's bushy brows met but he looked past the king towards his patient in question. Sitting up in bed with the blankets drawn to his hips, a radiant smile held strong to the teen's face, so filled with warmth and appreciation. But the hollowness of his cheeks and darkened circles outlining his glassy eyes gave the shaman a small glimpse of how he was fairing past his infectious charm.
"Spirit is good," the Orc replied as he gently placed the tray on the unoccupied bed. A part of him almost hesitated, knowing who's bed it was and the personal space he might've infringed on. But save for the stifling diplomatic greeting, he embraced a fostering environment for his young patient before social etiquettes.
"Clearly you don't have much experience with teenagers."
Thrall rumbled a low laugh as he momentarily left the tray to round the bed and approach the boy. "Not yet, but I've been told toddlers aren't much different." Reaching Anduin's side, who was distracted with sending a forced glare at the king, the shaman let them both fall into background noise and focused solely on the jolting present of the elements, opening himself up to their guiding voices. Placing his hands on the boy's chest, he pressed gently on the night shirt until he could not only feel the human's tepid warmth but his brilliant life force. Though he heard Varian shuffling and could certainly feel the king's protective stare boring into him, he also let that fall to the background. Soon enough, the elementals beckoned at his call and their ethereal voices filled his head and thoughts.
In those few precious seconds, the elements whispered so much about Anduin's body and offered the shaman astral scenes of each severe malady: the winds of Kun-Lai and Garrosh's snarling face as the divine bell fell on him and shattered all of his bones with his leg still frail, smoldering lava and pieces of dragon eggs as a scared child nursed claws that shredded his shoulder muscles, numerous training sessions in a green courtyard and fumbling with his sword to deflect a blow in time, heated voices pitching higher and higher until a crushing grip made the bone in his arm nearly buckle and Varian's seething face come into focus, snow chilling through thick boots as the sound of a bowstring letting loose and a festering disease took hold in his chest.
Each astral sight separated into its own plane with its own set of voices to tell him more of how the boy's body was fairing. The shaman pushed his morbid curiosities aside, granting the prince his privacy, and focused only on the last one.
Thrall hummed a little to himself before opening his eyes, not even realizing he had them closed, and found himself under the boy's curious gaze. "The blight seems gone and your lungs are doing better than expected." He narrowed his eyes on his young patient. "I hope you're not trying to use the Light to heal on your own."
"He best not be."
Anduin sharply shook his head, looking from Thrall to the hovering mass of his father right beside him, his expression changing slightly from endearing to exasperated. "I haven't! Though I've been tempted so I could get out of this bed and stop feeling so weak and useless."
Thrall slowly shook his head as he rose from the bed and returned to the tray. "Healers always make the worst patients," he grumbled good-naturedly and gently tipped the kettle into each of the three cups, flooding the dried herbs and fruit slices in a scolding bath. He was careful with isolating one of the cups among the trio, the steam from it emitting an acrid, brown mist that curled and tainted the air with heavy aromatic notes of burned cinnamon and more earthy herbs difficult to place.
"Herbs from my garden in Nagrand. They relax and open the airways, making breathing easier while your lungs are still strengthening," Thrall explained at seeing the shared looks of curiosity from the royals. Well, almost shared. Anduin's visceral keenness as a healer made him sit up straighter in bed and waft the burnished steam dancing from his offered cup. Varian's jaw tensed as a roar of overprotectiveness jolted through him, unnerved at the reality of an abdicated Horde Warchief giving his child something to drink. But whatever fight or argument the king was prepared to launch was stolen from him when the shaman offered one of the two remaining cups.
Anduin hid his smile behind the rim of his own cup at seeing the naked surprise on his father's face.
"What is this?" The king's frown matched his dubious sounding words as he looked down at the pale amber tea. It smelled fragrant yet strong with exotic scents he seldom got in the Keep.
"Bergamot orange with earthroot," the Orc replied as he caught onto the king's eye and held it as he took a sip of his own tea. "Less medicinal but not without calming benefits." Watching Varian reluctantly sip it, Thrall couldn't quite stop thinking of the astral plane that showed the High King's features twisted in an irate scowl as he painfully grabbed his son. The damage wasn't intense enough to leave a lingering injury, or even one he doubted was worse than a fractured bone, but the pain that continued to plague the boy was deeper than the flesh.
"I was thinking…." Anduin began as he tried to hide his grimace at sipping the bitter tea. "If Thrall were to agree to my condition being stable enough, I'd like to attend some of the council meetings today."
"No."
Anduin's face fell. "Before you immediately say no, father, it doesn't have to be all of them!"
"No."
"I'll leave right when you tell me too. I won't even need to be there for the full duration!"
"I'm glad you see it that way, Anduin, because you're leaving the meetings before they even start. My answer is unchanged and I will not entertain this anymore. You're staying here until the summit is done, then the only traveling you're doing is through a portal back home to Stormwind."
Thrall was quiet as he looked between the bickering royals, debating if he should offer his input as Anduin's impromptu healer or stay out of the personal affairs. He sipped his tea.
"Father, I'm getting restless seeing the same walls and talking to no one all day. I can't keep sleeping in here when I'm clearly well enough to hold a conversation. And the council meetings-"
"-are none of your concern."
Thrall saw movement out of the corner of his eye followed by the faint clink of the boy's cup, suggesting he placed it on the nightstand beside him. "How can you say that?! As crown prince, it's all of my concern. Were this any other situation, had I not gotten a little sick-"
"You almost died, Anduin!"
Everything turned quiet in the wake of the thunderous voice so stringent and commanding that even Thrall looked up and prepared himself to intervene if need be. The vision from the astral plane was too fresh in his mind. But when he looked at the king, he found Varian's face twitching and twinging as he fought an unseen battle, his inner demons notoriously fiercer than any foe on a battlefield.
"Your father is right, Anduin, that what you went through wasn't just getting sick. And you need to give your body time to recuperate. The council meetings are long and I don't suggest you pushing yourself to attend," Thrall paused a moment. "But your lungs can't fully strengthen from being inactive in a bed. Varian, he'll need some kind of activity. Walking around the lodge or venturing outside for a short time would do him some good."
Maybe it was because he was still struggling with his fury, but Varian reluctantly nodded, his eyes fixated on the prince. "Fine. You've been wanting to see Winterspring. If I take you riding with me in the area for a short time, do you agree to put this issue to bed?"
Anduin had once fantasized about traipsing into the many caverns that snaked in and out of the snow capped mountains, venturing all over the rustic frigid world that screamed to be explored. Alone, the fantasy had a chance at becoming reality. Under his parent's watchful gaze, it'd live and die a mere fantasy.
But as tired as he still was, he needed to stretch his legs and get fresh air. He saw the compromise for what it was, and he eagerly embraced it with a gentle smile. "I'd like that."