Varian had been gone for three weeks.

The long-simmering resentment between Jaina Proudmoore and Aethas Sunreaver had led to an outbreak of hostility between the Sunreavers and the Kirin Tor. At first, it was contained on the Isle of Thunder, where the two groups were vying for control over ancient magical artefacts. Then it spread to the Vale of Eternal Blossoms, and onto the Jade Forest.

Braelyn hated the idea of Varian being out there on the battleground, even though she knew it was necessary. The king needed to bring a halt to the fighting in order to prevent the fight spreading to the rest of Azeroth. The rest of the kingdom was nervous. Everyday she received letters from regional leaders demanding to know if they were in danger, wanting to know what the king was doing to protect them.

After the first week, Braelyn realised she missed Varian with a surprising intensity. She had trouble sleeping in that huge bed without him, and missed his sly grins and gentle touches. She worried about him not eating enough or sleeping properly. She feared that he would not come home at all.

Anduin and Genn noticed her despondency and did their best to cheer her up, but they could not help her once she retired for the night to her half-empty room.

When Varian returns, I swear I am going to give him the biggest hug he has ever received! she thought.

The Battle of Darkshire had ended after a week. The town was saved, with minimal casualties. Braelyn had organised a small street festival to thank the heroes who had heeded her call to arms, many of whom were staying in Duskwood as members of the Watch. She presented young Sam with a medal, grinning when she saw how happy the boy was, and how proud his beloved Pa was.

She even found the courage to write to Lady Sylvanas Windrunner to suggest she keep better track of her men. It was dangerous for them to be wandering around lost in a place like Duskwood.

It was these small things that made Braelyn happy, that enabled her to keep working when all she wanted to do was take off screaming into the woods.

Her other duties were not as enjoyable, and she soon came to realise the full cost of her deal with Lucinda Bellweather. Not an evening went by that she wasn't expected to attend some function of the nobles, no matter if they ran late and she had to be up at dawn to deal with the aftermath of war.

She had known, of course, that the house of nobles, was corrupt but the level of corruption, and outright depravity, appalled her. And the fact that she was the Queen, Varian's wife, did not protect her from their schemes, their filthy propositions.

Thankfully, Lady Lucinda was always around to keep her company, to introduce her to the nobles who were actually noble, and to stave of the worst of the bunch.

The 'worst of the bunch' consisted mainly of Jack and his closest associates. Her former partner had wasted no time exploiting Braelyn's willingness to engage with the house of nobles, hosting party after party, most of them in her honour. She had no idea why he was still so fixated on her. He had to realise that she was beyond his reach now. For good.

"Your Highness!"

Braelyn snapped her head up as one of the guards strode into the throne room. "Yes?" she asked, half afraid that a new danger had emerged for her to deal with.

"King Varian has returned, your majesty," the guard replied.

Braelyn got to her feet. "Where is he?" she demanded, her face lighting up with happiness.

"The gates to the city, Your Majesty."

Forgetting all about decorum, Braelyn hiked up her skirt and ran for the gates. She wasn't concerned with what people thought when they saw the Queen running through the streets, her bodyguards struggling to keep pace with her. She just wanted to see her husband. To reassure herself that he was safe and well.

As she ran, she realised how much fitness she'd lost since becoming queen. She was out of breath, and feeling dizzy. She'd have to find some way of rectifying that. Once she'd seen Varian, of course.

And there he was; standing just as proud and handsome as she remembered him, deep in conversation with Hammond Clay, looking furious about whatever they were discussing. She felt a familiar fluttering in her heart, but dismissed it as simple relief at seeing that her husband was okay.

It was only natural for the queen to be concerned about the king's welfare, after all.

"Varian!" she called, smiling brightly as he turned to look at her. She didn't give him a chance to respond; covering the remaining distance with a burst of speed, she all but jumped on him. Her arms managed to find a way past his pauldrons and around his neck, and she held on with all the strength she had. He was forced to close his arms around her waist, and swing her up and around, lest they both end up on the ground. "I've missed you!"

"As I've missed you, my Lady," he replied, laughing at her unexpected enthusiasm. She heard him say something to Hammond, but was too concerned with hugging him to death to pay any attention. "Let's go home, Braelyn."

She pulled away, not even embarrassed by the amused looks she was getting from Varian's men. She was just so happy. She could finally stop worrying. "Anduin will be overjoyed to see you."

She turned to smile at Varian again, then gasped as she felt a wave of dizziness surge through her. She swayed violently, dimly aware of Varian shouting her name. Then she felt as if she were drowning, unable to draw the tiniest breath. She staggered forward, pulling free of her husband's grasp in her panic. Her vision faded out, and she dropped to the ground, lost to darkness.

When Varian saw his wife running towards him with her star-bright smile in place, he had approximately three seconds to enjoy her beauty before she launched herself at him with the force of a cannonball. He barely managed to catch her as she wound around him and said something he never expected her to say.

"I've missed you!"

The admission was almost enough to make being gone for so long worth it.

Now, not five minutes later, she was passed out on the cobblestones, breathless and unconscious. One of Varian's paladins was healing her as he held her head in his lap, praying for her to wake up. Memories of the day he'd lost Tiffin playing over and over in his mind.

I can't go through this again, he thought bitterly. Light, please don't take her from me, too.

Finally, finally,Braelyn stirred. Her eyes flickered open for a few moments, then closed again, but she was breathing, and didn't look to be in pain.

"You can move her now, Your Majesty," the paladin said, stepping away from Braelyn. "Judging from the dark circles under her eyes, I think she just passed out from over-exertion, and perhaps stress. Let her rest for a few days, and keep her hydrated."

"Thank you," Varian replied, picking his wife up and nestling her against his chest. She looked exhausted, and a wave of guilt washed over him. He was gone for too long. "Hammond, report to me in the morning. We'll finish discussing Darkshire then."

"Of course, Your Highness," Hammond replied with a salute. "May the Light be with you and your queen."

As soon as he had Braelyn back in the Keep, secured comfortably in their bed, he stuck his head out the door and called for one of his guards. "Fetch Mathias Shaw. Tell him I want a report of my wife's activities during the past three weeks."

The guard left, and Varian changed into his sleeping pants. Crawling into bed beside Braelyn, he pulled her against his side, pleased when she snuggled into him.

"Varian," she murmured in her sleep, lips twitching.

"I am here, little star," he replied, stroking her hair. "I have you."

Braelyn woke up feeling a sorely missed sensation of warmth and security, and she knew what it meant. Her husband was home.

"Varian?" she croaked. "What happened?"

"You overworked yourself, my dear," he replied, and she sensed his unhappiness. "I'm sorry I was gone so long." His hand was stroking her lower back, and she sighed, nuzzling her face against his shoulder.

"It's not your fault," she said with a yawn. "There was just so much to do... "

"I know. Mathias told me what you've been up to," Varian replied. "I'm so proud of you for the way you handled the problems in Darkshire. Ello Ebonlocke said that without your intervention the Alliance would have lost Duskwood."

"Hmmm, it felt awesome to be able to help," she mumbled sleepily, hand drifting idly across Varian's chest. "You need to fire Baldwin, though. Stupid jerk refused to respect my authoritah."

Varian let out a bark of laughter, and Braelyn smiled to hear it. She had missed it.

"I'll look into it, Your Majesty," he said, still laughing.

"Is everything well in Pandaria?" she asked, hands moving up to his hair, winding the silky black strands around her fingers.

"Don't you worry about that, Braelyn," Varian said. "Worry about regaining your strength."

"I don't know how you do it, Varian," she said abruptly changing the subject.

"Do what?"

"Everything. Running the Alliance, dealing with the nobles," Braelyn said waving a hand in the air. "It never ends, and people are so ungrateful. I hate what they say about you sometimes." She tightened her grip on Varian, and a tear ran down her cheek and onto his shoulder. "It all makes me feel so claustrophobic."

"I do it because I have to," he replied, kissing the top of her head. "Because it is my duty."

"And mine," Braelyn added stubbornly. "I won't let you deal with this alone any more."

"And I... honour you for that thought," Varian said, "but you will be cutting back. No more waiting on the nobles every night. Especially Lord Devereaux."

"But... "

"No buts," Varian told her firmly. "King's orders."

"Yes, Your Highness," Braelyn said, feeling a bit put out. Varian tickled her stomach, making her twitch and giggle.

"Are you hungry?" Varian asked her, rolling over to look down at her, his hair framing both their faces. "You've been asleep for over eighteen hours."

"And the city is still standing?" Braelyn asked in mock alarm. "Wow, Chelinka is really off her game."

"What do you want to eat?" Varian repeated. "Let me take care of you for a change."

"Well, I guess I am a bit peckish," she replied, giving in to the urge to trace the length of Varian's scar. His blue eyes flashed with amusement and another emotion she couldn't identify. "How about you bring me every edible item in the city? Including Learen's battle rations... you know, the ones he claims are tauren-jerky, but are really just beef."

"I'll see what I can do," Varian replied, hopping out of bed and heading for the door.

Braelyn watched him go, a little grin on her face. She was so glad he was home.

"You know, Braelyn, there is a new rumour about you floating around the city," Anduin said as he and his stepmother played a game of chess after dinner one night. She was losing, she always did, but she loved the time she got to spend with the prince, especially when Varian was also nearby.

It felt like being a normal family.

"I don't want to know!" Braelyn and Varian said in unison. Anduin laughed as he checked Braelyn's queen.

"I do!" Genn called out from where he was sitting with Lady Lucinda. The noblewoman had become a regular dinner companion at the Keep, and had taken a liking to the Gilnean monarch.

"I do believe I already know the rumour you refer to, your highness," Lucinda said with a playful smile at Braelyn. "Are you sure you don't want to know, Braelyn? It's a good one."

"Absolutely not!" Braelyn replied, glaring at her friend.

"Oh, now I have to know!" Genn said. "Have mercy on an old man, my dear."

"Genn, you are incorrigible," Varian sighed in defeat.

Lucinda laughed demurely and gestured for Anduin to make the revelation. Braelyn groaned, while Varian just shook his head.

"Well," Anduin said, rubbing his hands together with relish, "people are saying that reason Braelyn collapsed last week is because I have a sibling on the way."

Varian started to choke on his wine, while Braelyn jerked in shock and sent the chessboard to the floor with a flailing arm. "What?!" she yelled.

"You mean it isn't true?" Genn asked, sounding sad. "How disappointing. I love babies, and the Keep could do with a few little ones frolicking about the place."

"No, it isn't true!" Braelyn snapped. Honestly, didn't people have anything else to do with their time than gossip about her? "Not yet, anyway," she added, then blushed furiously as she realised what she'd said.

She glanced around the room. Anduin and Genn were busy laughing at her reaction. Lucinda was smirking at her, and raised her wineglass in a salute when she met the queen's gaze. Varian... he was staring at her, and as she met that intense gaze, her hand drifted to her stomach. His eyes followed her hand, and as they did, Braelyn recognised the emotion burning in their depths.

It was want.

It wasn't everyday that Braelyn got summoned to the Royal Armory. Queens did not need weapons. In case of emergencies, they were to scream loudly until their guards or the king arrived and killed the nasty with their shiny metal sticks. If things were really bad, they were permitted to throw their shoes, or slap their attackers at close quarters.

"Varian?" she asked as she walked into the armory. Her husband was standing by a covered armor stand, a weapon case on a table next to it. "You wanted to see me?"

"I always want to see you," he replied gallantly, and she had to stifle a giggle. Since the embarrassing incident a few nights ago, he had been acting differently, almost as if he were trying to court her. Braelyn assumed it was because he did want more children, and was hoping to persuade her to go along with his desire.

She didn't know what to make of that. She did want children, but Varian's? Or any nobleman's? she wasn't sure she wanted to bring a child into such an environment. Then again, Varian was a good man; she was sure he wouldn't treat his own children as commodities. He certainly didn't treat Anduin like one.

Not that she had a choice when it came to becoming a parent.

"Why am I here?" She finally asked, breaking herself out of her thoughts.

"I have a gift for you," Varian said. "I remembered what you said about feeling claustrophobic here, so I thought I'd give you something to help you deal with that."

Varian pulled the sheet off the armor stand, and Braelyn gasped at what he revealed.

It was the most beautiful set of armor she had seen, a perfect replica of Varian's own, customised to fit a female body, and made out of mail, not plate. She walked forward in a daze, and let her fingers trace over the lion's head pauldrons.

"It's beautiful!" she whispered, as Varian placed a hand on the small of her back.

"There's a weapon to match," he said. "Let me show you." He guided her over to the table and opened the case.

The bow was magnificent. Made of a dark, lustrous wood she recognised as coming from the Eastvale Logging Camp in Elwynn Forest, it was decorated with a gold lion's head at the centre of the arch. Gold claws capped the tips. The lion's head had sapphire eyes, and was enchanted to breathe blue fire.

Braelyn never dreamed she would ever own such a weapon. She picked it up; it was slightly heavier than she was used to, but nothing a few training sessions wouldn't fix.

She put it back in its case, gently, then turned to face Varian. "Thank you," she said, taking his hands in hers. "Varian, thank you so much. I take it this is your way of saying I can go hunting?"

Varian nodded. "Sometimes. Just stay close to the city, and your guard."

Braelyn laughed with pure joy, then raised herself on her tiptoes. She grabbed Varian's face in her hands and kissed him, putting all of her gratitude into that simple gesture. When he deepened the kiss, she didn't pull away, just wrapped her arms around him.

"I can't believe you got us matching armor," she said when they finally parted, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Just as people see me in my armor and recognise me as High King, so shall they see you in yours and know you as my Queen," Varian said, lips pressed against her ear. "And if anyone thinks about striking you with so much as a stick, they'll know whose wrath they will face."

"Yes," Braelyn said firmly. "Mine. Because a stick? That's just insulting. Bring a real weapon or go home, fools. Unless they just want to play fetch with Bitey. In that case, a stick is fine."

Varian growled low in her ear as their guards attempted to stifle their laughter.

That afternoon, while Varian was in his study with Genn and Mathias Shaw, Braelyn slipped into the throne room dressed in her new armor. Her hair, temporarily enchanted to look black, was up in a high ponytail, her fringe framing her face. A large, fake scar was drawn across the bridge of her nose and over her cheeks. When the three men entered the throne room, she looked at them with the sternest, most intimidating stare she could manage.

Shaw started clapping his hands, a broad smile on his face, while Varian stared back at her nonplussed. "That better be an enchantment," he said, pointing at her hair, "and that scar better be fake, or someone is going to die."

Genn laughed himself sick for hours.

AN - no matter I do, my stories always go a little silly. Poor Braelyn, that's some serious denial she's in. I know I said they'd be an argument, but I wanted to build the emotional tension up a bit first.

Next Chapter: Braelyn and Varian disagree on what constitutes hunting, and the fallout has some serious consequences for their relationship.