Auriana
Auriana tilted her head from side to side as she studied herself in the mirror, and let out a thoughtful huff. She was wearing a new dress for her first solo outing as Queen, and despite the pallor of her skin and the gauntness of her cheekbones, she was pleasantly surprised by her reflection. Her royal wardrobe usually made her feel like an imposter, or a child in adult's clothing, but there was something about this dress that made her look almost regal. She still didn't feel confident, precisely, or even all that beautiful, though she would happily take 'somewhat regal' over 'awkward poseur'. At the very least, it was one less thing preying on her already frayed nerves.
The dress's design had clearly been inspired more by a spellcaster's robes than a courtly gown – which perhaps explained why Auriana found it so comfortable. The bodice was perfectly fitted to the curves of her waist and chest, and lightly armoured with panels of fine leather. The skirt was graceful and flowing, though not overly long or unwieldy, and the sleeves extended all the way down to her palms like fingerless gloves. The fabric was a flattering silvery-blue that was neither too heavy nor too guazy, and the jewelled embellishments that glittered along the bust and down the sleeves were small and tasteful.
Auriana didn't know whether Varian had mentioned something to the royal tailors, or whether they had taken it upon themselves, but she had noticed that their recent efforts had been more in keeping with her personal style, rather than whatever was currently trendy in the Stormwind court. They were still beautiful dresses, of course, and sufficiently elaborate for a Queen of Stormwind, but it seemed the tailors were taking pains to consider function as well as form, and they had begun to incorporate armour and other, more practical elements into their designs.
Of course, it likely also helped that Auriana had enjoyed a good meal and a proper night's sleep for the first time in weeks. As expected, the roast lamb and potatoes had been excellent, and – even better – she had spent the rest of the night curled up in Varian's arms. After dinner, they had retired to his study, where they had nestled together on the chaise lounge for hours as they talked about everything and nothing.
Auriana had always found it immensely comforting to listen to the thrum of Varian's mighty heartbeat as she lay upon his chest, and eventually she had been lulled into a deep sleep. So deep, in fact, that she hadn't so much as stirred when he had carried her back to their bed; only waking when the first soft rays of morning sunlight breached their chamber windows. Varian, too, seemed to have enjoyed their quiet night together, and it was only with great reluctance and a long, lingering kiss that he had finally left to attend to his duties in Ironforge.
A small part of Auriana had wanted to ask him to stay, though the greater part of her was too stubborn to risk the wound to her pride. As anxious as she was to bear sole responsibility for ruling Stormwind, she was also determined to prove to Varian, the House of Nobles, and the city at large that she was capable. She could not afford to be distracted by anything – not Varian's absence, not the fallout from the Tournament, or even Khadgar's surprising proposal. For the next week, at least, her full attention belonged to Stormwind, and Stormwind alone.
Ideally, Auriana might have had a day or so to settle into the role, but she was due to be tested mere hours after Varian's departure by judging petitions from Stormwind's populace. While most minor issues of law were decided in the Magistrate's Court, without the need for intervention by the King, all those who lived within the city – nobleman and commoner; both human and other races of Azeroth alike – had the right to appeal to the Crown directly. In cases where a citizen felt the law had been unjustly carried, or when there was little legal precedent for the specifics of their case, they could apply to present the matter before the King (or his lawful proxy) at one of the monthly petition sessions held in the throne room of Stormwind Keep.
Petitions could also be made for concessions in the city's budget, or for changes to the law of Stormwind itself. Citizens could make petitions either as individuals, or on behalf of a larger group, such as a craftsmans' or merchants' guild. In a way, it was not too dissimilar to the requisition process Auriana had managed as Commander of Lunarfall… though the thought did little to ease her nerves when she considered the sheer scale of Stormwind city by comparison...
"Hello...? Auri…?"
A faint knock on the door and a familiar voice yanked Auriana out of her rambling thoughts, and she hurriedly stepped away from the mirror. Thankfully, she would not have to face petitions entirely alone; Anduin having volunteered to accompany her to court in his father's stead. She was immensely grateful for his support, though his arrival was an abrupt reminder that she would soon be required to leave the solace of her chambers and descend to the throne room...
"Good m-morning, Anduin," she called back, hoping he hadn't heard the slight waver in her voice.
The doorknob jiggled, and a flash of blonde hair and a pair of bright blue eyes peeked tentatively through the gap between the door and jamb.
"Ah… and you can enter; I'm decent."
It seemed as if Auriana had correctly interpreted Anduin's hesitation, for it was only at her express instruction that he straightened and stepped fully into the room. Much like Auriana herself, he was dressed in formal robes appropriate to his station as Crown Prince, though he wore them with far more ease and casual comfort than she.
"So I see," he agreed, with an approving nod towards her dress. "And is Father…?"
"Already gone," she confirmed. "He left earlier this morning. You'll have to make do with me and Ridley, I'm afraid."
Auriana had dismissed her lady's maids not long after they had finished with her hair, not really wanting to have any witnesses to her brooding, but her loyal bodyguard was something of an exception.
"I could think of worse company."
Anduin flashed Ridley a quick smile, and she responded with a playful wink in kind. He had the kind of smile that illuminated a room, and Auriana strongly suspected that even the most terrible demon lord would have a hard time resisting its gentle warmth.
"Although, I'll admit, I thought Father might have delayed his departure…" he said, as he took a casual seat on the edge of the bed.
"I think he realised he was making me nervous," Auriana murmured. "He has a tendency to…"
"Hover?" Anduin supplied, his already warm smile widening even further into a broad, cheeky grin.
"Yes, exactly. Perhaps one day I should turn him over to some gnomish engineers; he'd put their gyrocopters to shame..."
In fairness, Varian's absence hadn't done much to improve Auriana's jitters, though she had found it a bit easier to dress when she wasn't tripping over his feet every ten seconds.
"That does sound like Father. Although I don't believe either of you have any reason to be nervous," Anduin added.
"No?"
Auriana turned her attention back to the mirror, and fiddled with the lay of her skirts for what was probably the twentieth time.
"No," Anduin said firmly. "You're going to be brilliant. You're smart, kind, an experienced leader... not to mention you've been practically living in the Library…"
Auriana blanched. "I'd hardly say living..."
She shot a questioning glance at Ridley, who confirmed Anduin's assessment with a silent, apologetic shrug.
"Oh."
"And if it helps, the first time Father allowed me to judge petitions, I feel flat on my face," Anduin offered, grinning. "Quite literally, I mean."
Auriana blinked, and looked back at him over her shoulder. "You… what?"
"I tripped," he added, miming a falling body with his arm. "It was those darn lions at the base of the throne… their paws stick out a lot further than you might think. I landed squarely on my nose, blood everywhere… with the whole court staring at me the entire time."
Auriana suddenly had a crystal-clear vision of herself suffering a similar fate, blood pouring down the front of her brand new dress, and her stomach churned.
"And... and how is that meant to help me, exactly?"
"Um..." Anduin paused, as if it were only just now dawning on him that his story was perhaps more terrifying than it was inspirational, "You… well, I suppose you certainly couldn't do much worse. And now you know about the lions, right…?"
"I take it no-one has ever covered 'motivational speaking' as part of your princely training," Auriana said drily.
Anduin pulled a face, though he conceded the point a moment later with a rueful shrug. "Evidently not."
Auriana realised, far too late, that he was trying to make her smile, much as Varian often did when he wanted to give her comfort but didn't know what to say. Anduin wasn't teasing her or trying to make her feel worse, he was simply trying to remind her that she was far from the first burgeoning royal to have been nervous, and in her wound-up state she had entirely failed to notice.
Before she could say as much, or even apologise, however, Ridley straightened and checked her weapons before making her way over to the door.
"Unfortunately, Prince Anduin's continuing education will have to wait," she interjected, gesturing to the ornate clock on the nearby mantle. "We will be expected in the throne room shortly."
"Yes… I... yes. Thank you."
Auriana gave her skirts one last tug for good measure, as if it actually helped, and followed Ridley to the door. She would have to make time to talk to Anduin later, but for now she needed to focus on the task at hand. If she didn't leave the room now, she suspected she might never convince her wavering legs to cooperate.
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
"Hmm?"
Auriana paused, concerned, and looked back over her shoulder to see Anduin dangling her crown from his two middle fingers.
"Oh."
"Can't be a queen without a crown."
"I'm not sure I can be a queen with one," Auriana muttered, though she nonetheless permitted Anduin to settle the shining circlet in her hair.
It seemed far heavier than it ought to have been for such a delicate thing, as if the entire weight of Stormwind's leadership had been wrought into the twisting metal. Not for the first time, Auriana wished she could simply wear her armour and have done with it, though she supposed that in itself was an act of cowardice. Today she was to be a queen, not a mage, and she could not hide behind what was safe and familiar forever.
She turned, and swept from the room.
Anduin was not to be Auriana's only ally as she faced the citizens of Stormwind – she would also be assisted by two members of the King's Council. While Varian was the ultimate authority within Stormwind, he did not govern the city alone. It was simply too much work to be done by one man, and so he was aided by his Council – a small group of expert advisors charged with the day-to-day running of the kingdom. In addition to Varian himself, the Council was composed of six members - the Master of Whispers, the Master of War, the Master of Laws, the Master of Coin, the Master of Light, and the city's Lord or Lady Provost.
Mathias Shaw, naturally, was Stormwind's Master of Whispers, and advised Varian on matters of intelligence and espionage. Shaw, in turn, worked closely with General Hammond Clay, High Commander of Stormwind Defense and Master of War, who bore responsibility for both the city guard and the defense of the kingdom from outside threats. An imposing, barrel-chested man with blazing auburn hair, Clay had served faithfully as Master of War ever since the untimely death of his predecessor, General Marcus Jonathan, during the bombing of Theramore.
The Master of Laws provided Varian with advice in legal matters, including the drafting of new city ordinances, while the Master of Light held a seat on the Council in order to represent the interests of the Church of the Holy Light, and to provide an ethical perspective on the city's governance. When Auriana and Varian had first met, Bishop Victor DeLavey had been temporarily acting as both Master of Light and Master of Laws, owing to the unexpected retirement of the previous Master of Laws due to health concerns. As the eldest son and heir apparent of a prominent noble house, DeLavey had received a thorough education in the law of Stormwind, though he had eventually abdicated his title in favour of joining the priesthood. Even as a Bishop of the Church, however, DeLavey had maintained a keen interest in the law, and the ways in which it intersected with the moral teachings of the Light, and it was he who had recommended the elevation of the current Master of Laws, Professor Evanna Hale, to her position. DeLavey now only held a single seat on the Council as Master of Light, though he still occasionally gave his input into matters of the law, and frequently enjoyed engaging the quick-witted Professor Hale in bombastic legal debates.
The Master of Coin, as the name suggested, was responsible for Stormwind's treasury and the management of the kingdom's financial matters. The current Master of Coin, Duke Erland Hargrave, had served Varian loyally for nearly two decades, having taken over the position after his predecessor had been slain in the same city riot that had killed Queen Tiffin. Although Hargrave was in his seventies, he possessed an incredibly sharp mathematical mind, and had a well-earned reputation for fairness and conscientiousness.
The final member of the Council was the Lord or Lady Provost, who oversaw the veritable army of public servants and bureaucrats that kept Stormwind city running. Varian and his Council may have made the decisions, but it was the Provost that made those decisions a reality. It was a position that held considerable respect and authority within the city, and for the past seven years, it had been held by Lady Alys Llochwyn.
Prior to her coronation, Auriana had spent a considerable amount of time studying the history of Stormwind's noble Houses, and had learned that House Llochywn was both one of the oldest noble families in Stormwind, and one of the few great Houses that had survived the fall of Stormwind. She had also learned that Varian and Alys were distantly related — Varian's great, great-grandmother had been a Llochwyn before she became Queen — and as such, the Houses of Wrynn and Llochwyn had historically been close.
As expected, both the Lady Provost and Duke Hargrave were already waiting when Auriana, Anduin and Ridley finally arrived in the small royal antechamber concealed behind the throne room. Alys Llochwyn was an exceptionally tall woman, with lithe, graceful limbs and a regal bearing. She had a prominent nose and diamond-sharp cheekbones, and wore her wavy, mushroom-brown hair cropped fashionably to her shoulders. She was also well into her fifties, though to Auriana she didn't look a day older than forty.
In stark contrast, Duke Hargrave was short and rather portly. He had always reminded Auriana a little of Greatfather Winter, having the same ruddy cheeks and thick, bushy beard, though she doubted Greatfather Winter had quite the same affinity for accounting.
"Your Majesty! Good morning!" Hargrave boomed, "And Prince Anduin! I swear you get taller every time I see you, lad."
"Good morning, Your Majesty, and Your Highness," Lady Llochwyn echoed, though her greeting was a touch more restrained than that of her jovial colleague. "I trust you are well…?"
"Yes, thank you. And yourselves?" Auriana replied, doing her best to match the calm, aristocratic lilt of Llochwyn's voice.
She had met both Duke Hargrave and the Provost before, but had not had much cause to interact with them for any length of time. Given that the Tournament in Northrend had fallen so soon after her wedding to Varian, her focus had been on the Alliance, rather than on the internal politics of Stormwind, and she hoped she would have the opportunity to make up for lost time. She also needed to remember that not every member of the nobility was like Rohas Anguile, and that many of them were just as hard-working and dedicated to their civic duties as Varian.
Auriana, Llochwyn and Hargrave were afforded only a few minutes of small talk, however, before they were tactfully interrupted by the arrival of court herald; resplendent in his customary blue-and-gold tunic and wielding his lion-headed stave of office.
"My lords; my ladies – I am sorry to interpose, but all petitioners are in attendance and awaiting your arrival. Are you ready to proceed?"
Five pairs of expectant eyes turned to Auriana. She cleared her throat.
"Ah… ah, yes. Thank you."
It was technically a lie, but there was no backing out now.
"My pleasure, Majesty," the herald said. "I shall announce you momentarily."
He disappeared back through the concealed door from whence he had come, and a few moments later Auriana heard the muffled thump of his stave against the stone floor as he called the court to order.
"All rise for Her Royal Majesty, Queen Auriana Wrynn," the herald intoned, his clarion voice only slightly muffled by the Keep walls. "Accompanied by His Royal Highness, Prince Anduin Wrynn; the Honourable Lady Provost, Duchess Alys Llochwyn; and His Grace, Duke Erland Hargrave."
Auriana was not yet used to her married name, though while she still wasn't sure about the 'Royal Majesty' part, she had decided she quite liked being a Wrynn. The sound of her name coupled so intimately with Varian's kindled a spark of courage inside her, and some of the sudden nervous trembling in her legs eased.
Ridley proceeded through the door to the throne room first, as was appropriate for a royal bodyguard, followed closely by Llochwyn and Hargrave. Auriana herself then made to follow, only to pull up short as a soft hand closed around her right upper arm from behind and gave a gentle tug. She felt the warmth of Anduin's presence envelop her as he leaned in close, and his whispered breath tickled the back of her ear as he spoke.
"What happened at the Tournament may have shaken your confidence, but you can do this. I know it. Father knows it. And in a few minutes, everyone out there is going to know it, too. Have a little faith."
"Faith?" she repeated. "I'm not a priest."
"Ah, well, no-one's perfect," he teased, though his tone soon became serious once more, "And nor do you have to be. Perfection is not reality, and we are flawed, chaotic, complex beings all. Don't tear yourself apart trying to reach some impossible standard. It is enough that you strive to do the best that you can, with kindness and compassion in your heart. You are enough, and you could stand to show yourself a little grace."
Auriana kept her eyes fixed firmly forward, knowing that if she turned around to look at him, she might just be overcome. He and Varian had been alone together for so long, and she knew that her sudden arrival in his life must have been jarring. At best, Auriana had expected that Anduin might be civil with her, and she had never dared hope that he would welcome her into his little family with open arms. He had given her far more enthusiasm and acceptance than she felt she deserved, and she was determined to one day find a way to express the depths of her gratitude.
"Perhaps there's hope for your speechwriting yet," she murmured. "Thank you, Anduin."
"You are most welcome." The hand on Auriana's arm tightened, and she felt a frisson of warm energy flood her bones. "Now, come on. Your court awaits, Your Majesty..."
As Auriana and Anduin at last entered the throne room, the hundred or so citizens present sank into low bows, and the royal guards stood to crisp attention. Overt displays of fealty made her intensely uncomfortable, and she had to fight back her natural urge to wave them off. She understood it was part of the protocol, however, and so she folded her hands beneath her breast to keep them still, and concentrated her full attention on ascending the throne without falling. Anduin was right – the lions' paws did stick out – though she managed to get herself seated without any major embarrassment. The Lady Provost and Duke Hargrave then took up position on her left, while Anduin and Ridley stood close at hand on her right.
Further to Auriana's left, the court scribe sat ready to document the day's proceedings, including attendance. Petitions did not usually attract quite such a crowd, but it seemed that there was no shortage of curious people eager to get a glimpse of their new Queen. Auriana recognised a only handful of faces in the room, most of them members of the guard, though that may have been a blessing in disguise. It was certainly better than seeing known enemies or troublemakers, at least; a blank slate from which she might hopefully build a good impression.
"Citizens of Stormwind – th-thank you all for your attendance today," Auriana started, surprised by how loud and clear her normally husky voice sounded in the vaulted stone chamber. "It is my honour to represent the Crown in King Varian's absence, and I hope you will find me to be as fair and considered a judge as he."
A bit short and stiff, perhaps, but hardly a disaster, either. Auriana's racing heartbeat slowed a touch, and she glanced at the herald.
"You may call the first matter."
"Yes, Your Majesty." The herald once again rapped his stave sharply on the stones. "Presenting Lord Lucen Pomeroy, and his son, Lord Bransen, with Lord Aric Farstad, and his daughter, Lady Ardyn."
Auriana nodded in acknowledgement as three noblemen and a young noblewoman stepped forward from the crowd and bowed a second time before the throne. Lord Pomeroy was a tall, handsome man in his mid-forties, with raven hair and a neatly trimmed goatee, and a distinct flourish to his bow. His son, Bransen, had been blessed with the same dashing good looks, which he had accentuated with a stylish and impeccably tailored coat of dark mulberry.
In contrast, Lord Farstad was stocky and weatherworn, and clearly lacked the Pomeroy's sartorial inclinations. His daughter, Ardyn, shared his cool grey eyes, though her fair skin and willowy physique must have been inherited from her mother.
While they had not yet directly crossed paths, Auriana knew that Farstad had been a frequent politucal ally of Anguile in the past, though she wasn't sure if they had been friends, or whether they had simply shared concerns due to the location of Farstad's vineyard estate along the border of Redridge and Elwynn Forest. Her heart once again began to beat faster at the mere thought of a run-in with another noble like Anguile, though she conceded that it would be unfair to judge Farstad before they'd even had a single conversation.
"The Lords Pomeroy will be making a joint petition, with Lord Farstad contesting," the herald added.
Auriana raised an eyebrow. It was not uncommon for petitions to be contested, especially when it came to matters like the use of public funds, though the nobility usually preferred to resolve their internal issues in private. Of course, while both lords, neither Pomeroy nor Farstad held a seat in the House of Nobles, which may have explained the difference.
The House of Nobles was composed of a dozen or so of the most powerful and wealthy noble families in Stormwind, though there were many smaller and less influential families to be found throughout the kingdom. These families were sometimes referred to as minor or lesser nobility, or even collectively as 'the Lesser House', in contrast to the greater nobility that formed the official House of Nobles. While the seated members of the House of Nobles had the most direct influence over Stormwind's politics, members of the lesser Houses would often pledge their support to one of the greater in exchange for political consideration.
The House of Nobles was currently made up of eleven families: Wrynn, Ridgewell, DeLavey, Lescovar, Erlgadin, Wishock, Ellerian, Hargrave, Astley, Llochwyn, and Strathmoore. Membership to the House was typically awarded based on relative power and influence within the kingdom, though it could also be a boon of great service to the Crown, or as part of a mutually beneficial political deal. The Ellerians, for example, had negotiated their ascent from the minor nobility into the House by offering Tiffin as a bride for Varian, though they had not been an active force in Stormwind politics since her death.
Conversely, one could also be stripped of their seat within the House, as the former Lord of House Anguile had learned only weeks ago. Stormwind had no formal law that required the House to have a certain number of families represented, though historically membership had fluctuated between ten and fifteen families. The Lesser House, by comparison, currently had over forty member families, including the Pomeroys and the Farstads. There had once been more, though many of Stormwind's old family lines had been completely wiped out during the First War...
A soft but pointed cough from Anduin cut through Auriana's wandering thoughts, and she abruptly realised that everyone in the room was waiting for her to continue.
Damnit.
"Ah — Lord Pomeroy," she said quickly, hoping that her cheeks were not as flaming red as they felt, "What matter brings you before the Crown today?"
The Lady Provost had provided Auriana with a thorough written briefing on each of the petitioners due to appear that day, but in the reality of the moment her mind had gone completely and utterly blank. Fortunately for her, petitioners were required to state their case regardless, though it was a less than auspicious start to proceedings.
"Five years ago, Lord Farstad and I agreed to a marriage between his eldest daughter and one of my sons," Pomeroy explained. "Lady Ardyn has now reached the age of majority, and yet Lord Farstad refuses to honour our agreement."
Arranged marriages were not uncommon amongst Stormwind's nobility, in the hope that such arrangements might mutually further each Houses' political or financial standing, though it was ultimately the purview of the two people named in the contract to give the final consent. In this case, Auriana could clearly see how each House might benefit – Pomeroy had primarily made their fortunes through trade, but had little land or productive means of their own. Conversely, Farstad was not quite as influential as Pomeroy, either politically or economically, and thus both Houses stood to gain from a close and exclusive trade relationship. She did not appreciate, however, Pomeroy's insinuation that the marriage ought proceed regardless of any objections from either Lady Ardyn or her father, and she decided to say as much.
"While Stormwind law does allow for such arrangements, any marriage within the city requires the affirmative consent of both marrying parties, regardless of any promises made by either themselves or their families. The Crown will not enforce a marriage on an unwilling citizen."
"And nor would I ask you to, Your Majesty," Pomeroy said quickly, a faint flush rising above his collar. "That does not, however, change the fact that it is House Farstad who has reneged on our agreement. My son is more than willing to wed Lady Ardyn here, but she has refused him. Therefore, according to the contract, my family is owed restitution. If the lady is unwilling, so be it – but that does not exempt Farstad from his financial obligations. I am simply asking that he honour the agreement as written."
As he spoke, he handed a copy of the marriage contract to the herald, who dutifully passed it on to Auriana for inspection. She quickly flicked to the clause in question, and was unsurprised to see that Pomeroy was correct – while the contract allowed for nullification without penalty in some cases, such as the death of one of the parties, a simple refusal for change of mind incurred a financial penalty for loss of opportunity.
"And Lord Farstad. Presumably you have come before the Crown because you do not wish to pay the contractual penalty?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Auriana held the contract aloft.
"This is your signature, is it not? And you entered into this agreement freely, understanding the consequences of withdrawal?"
She found it far easier to keep talking now that she had started, and her moment of terrifying blankness had passed. As Varian had suggested, it was not so different to running the garrison at Lunarfall, albeit on a far larger and more public scale.
"It is, Your Majesty, and I am well aware of the terms," Farstad said slowly, "However…"
"He's a boor!" Lady Ardyn blurted, much to the evident chagrin of her father.
"Ardyn!"
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but it's true." The young noblewoman took an earnest step forward. "I've known since I was a little girl that my choice of partner may not be entirely my own, and I do not dispute an arranged marriage in principle. But I do not think it fair that my family be forced to suffer financial penalty because I refuse to marry a man of poor character and even worse behaviour!"
"Your Majesty, please…!" Pomeroy interjected, though there was something in the sidelong glance he gave his son that aroused Auriana's suspicions.
She held up her hand. "I want to hear the Lady's testimony. Continue, please. To what behaviour are you referring?"
Ardyn had apparently come prepared to answer such a question, for she withdrew a tightly scrolled parchment from her robes and began to read. None of what she described was strictly illegal, but it painted a picture of a selfish and uncouth young man with little regard for anyone else's wellbeing, and not at all the kind of man that one might dream of wedding. Auriana certainly sympathised with Ardyn's refusal, given the behaviour described, and she was inclined to agree that imposing a penalty would be unfair in such circumstances.
"Lord Pomeroy… do you deny these allegations?" Auriana asked, when Ardyn had finally finished speaking.
Young Bransen opened his mouth to speak, but his father quelled him with a single, furious glance. The elder Pomeroy had coloured such a deep red that he put the vibrance of his son's coat to shame, though Bransen himself seemed supremely unconcerned by the revelation of his true character. Interestingly, the assembled crowd also seemed unsurprised by Ardyn's testimony, suggesting that the young lord's proclivities were an open secret within the Stormwind court.
"My son is… young, Your Majesty. I take no pride in it, but let us view his behaviour in the proper context," Pomeroy said, equivocating with great care. "These are the minor indiscretions of a… uh… spirited young man, nothing more. And I am certain that marriage will… will settle him down, as it has done for so many others..."
Auriana narrowed her eyes. She abhorred such excuses, and if Pomeroy himself could not offer anything more than a handful of weasel words in his son's defense, then she was not inclined to rule in his favour.
"How old are you, Bransen? Twenty? At around your age, I was in Northrend, fighting to defend Azeroth from the Scourge. Youth is no excuse." She waved the contract in Pomeroy's direction. "The wording of this agreement is quite specific. You were obligated to provide Lady Ardyn with 'a suitable male spouse from amongst your trueborn heirs'. As I understand it, your eldest son is already wed, which leaves Bransen as the only unmarried heir of your bloodline. Yes?"
Pomeroy tensed. "Yes…"
"And you would also agree that his behaviour leaves much to be desired? It's hardly what I would describe as 'suitable', in any case. I therefore contend that you were the first to renege on your contractual obligations, thus effectively terminating the agreement. If it was your genuine desire to see the contract fulfilled, you ought to have paid better attention to your son's behaviour and suitability as a husband."
"Your Majesty…"
"Careful, Pomeroy. I could just as easily argue that you owe Farstad under these terms," Auriana countered, cutting him off with a brisk shake of her head. "Instead, I will declare the contract void, with no restitution to be paid by either party. I would also strongly advise that you attend to the matter of your son's behaviour before you attempt to garner the favour of another young woman of this court."
"Ah… thank you, Your Majesty," Farstad said, looking rather surprised that she had ruled his favour. "My family appreciates the Crown's understanding in this matter."
For her part, young Ardyn was fairly beaming with satisfaction, though Bransen had the same pucker-mouthed look of shock and disappointment usually seen on the face of someone who had unexpectedly eaten something sour. He looked to his father, and for a moment Auriana wondered if Pomeroy might attempt to object, but it seemed he had the sense to realise that he was fighting an uphill battle.
"Very well. We accede to the Crown's ruling."
The judgement now made, both parties bowed in acknowledgement, before Pomeroy grasped his son none-too-gently by the shoulder and marched him swiftly from the room. Auriana let out a small sigh as she watched the two lords depart, wondering whether she'd made an enemy of another nobleman. She had applied the law justly, if rather literally, but that wouldn't necessarily mean anything to someone who had such an emotional stake in the outcome. After all, Bransen had just been very publicly exposed and censored. On the other hand, Pomeroy had seemed wearily resigned to who and what his son was, and perhaps he would not take the judgement personally.
There was no time to dwell, however. The Provost had scheduled another dozen matters for the day, and as soon as Farstad and his daughter had cleared the floor, Auriana turned to the herald. The risk of Pomeroy's enmity notwithstanding, her first judgement had gone about as well as she might have hoped, and she wanted to continue her momentum.
"The next matter, if you please…?"
The herald dutifully raised his stave, but before he could call forth the second petitioner, he was interrupted by a sudden loud shout and a commotion at the very back of the assembled crowd.
"Your Majesty!"
Auriana rose to her feet for a better view, and was surprised to see none other than Stormwind city guard, his helmet missing and his face flushed with sweat, roughly pushing people aside as he fought his way to the throne.
"Your Majesty! The city is under attack!" he gasped, the moment he was in earshot. "Demons! Demons in the Trade District!"
For a split second, Auriana's vision went white, and a horrid, cloying chill ran up her spine.
"What?"
Demons? In Stormwind? Surely Varian wouldn't have gone so far as to arrange some sort of prank or means of testing her mettle as Queen… would he? It seemed cruel, given what he knew of her fears, and not at all in character. Auriana fervently hoped she had misheard the guard, though a lifetime of hard experience had taught her that she was never that lucky.
"There are… demons… attacking the Trade District…" the guard gasped, falling to one knee before the throne.
Up close, Auriana could see a nasty burn mark across his ribs, and she could smell the distinctive reek of charred flesh and felfire. Definitely demonic; he wasn't lying - though she rather wished he had been.
"How many?"
"Not… sure… at least... a dozen. More by the minute. I think… they're being… summoned…"
"Warlocks?" Ridley asked, her right hand instinctively shifting to the sword at her side.
"I… ach… not that I saw, but… but I was… I was running… had to… warn you…"
"Don't speak! You did well, but now you need to lie still, here…"
Moved by the guard's plight, Anduin all but leapt off the short flight of steps leading up to the throne and hastened to the wounded man's side. He pressed his hands over the worst of the fel burns, and his hands blazed brilliant gold as he worked a swift spell of healing. The guard's laboured breathing immediately eased beneath the power of the Light, though his face remained contorted in a rictus of pain.
"What are we going to do?"
Anduin's question was not directed to the guard, but rather to Auriana herself. In fact, everyone was now fixated upon her, and the throne room had fallen so silent that one could have heard a pin drop. Nearly every person present looked terrified, save for the royal guard, and Auriana felt the weight of expectation settled over her shoulders like a heavy shroud.
Fortunately, if there was one thing Auriana excelled at, it was fighting demons. She may not have been a natural monarch, but this… this was what she had been born to do. She did a quick headcount of the guardsmen present - sixteen, not including Ridley - and a plan rapidly began to form in her mind.
"Captain Grayson," she snapped, gesturing to the stocky, white-haired woman to her left. "Have the bellsman sound the city warning, then take a dozen of your men to Cathedral Square. On your way, inform any City Guard you see that they are to calmly escort any civilians they find in that direction. The Trade District will need to be evacuated, but we don't want people running about in a panic, or else a few demons will be the least of our problems. We do not need a riot."
"Yes, ma'am!" Grayson said smartly. "And the rest?"
Auriana glanced towards the Provost. While Alys Llochwyn was a formidable force in Stormwind politics, she was not a warrior, and it showed. Her ageless face remained outwardly calm, but her grey eyes shone with real, primitive fear.
"Lady Provost - I suggest that you and Duke Hargrave accompany all these other fine people to the kitchens," Auriana instructed, gesturing to the assembled crowd. "Captain Grayson will spare some of her guard to protect you."
While the royal family had their own escape tunnels, it was standard practice in an emergency for all other persons present in the Keep to proceed down to the kitchens. The lower parts of the Keep were physically the strongest, and provided access to a number of different escape routes, including both secret tunnels and regular service passages. Any royal guard not currently in the throne room would know to proceed in that direction, as per their standing orders, and would protect any fleeing citizens with their lives.
"The guardsmen know how to get you out of the city, too, should such a thing become necessary… though I do not intend to let the situation go that far. You will be safe, I assure you."
Fortunately, the Provost was quick to recover from her initial shock. Auriana's words seemed to cut through her stunned paralysis like a knife, and she immediately began to assist the guard in coordinating the evacuation of the throne room; her coolly authoritative voice loud and clear over the general din of the anxious crowd. Auriana appreciated Llochywn's efforts – she may not have been a fighter, but she was smart and level-headed, and would hopefully be a calming influence on the others.
"And you, Sargeant," Auriana added, nodding to the red-faced young guard who had sounded the warning. "You've done your duty. Go with the Provost. There's no point risking further injury."
Thanks to Anduin's efforts, the guard's injuries were already on the mend, though Auriana did not miss the undisguised flash of gratitude that crossed his face as she ordered him to safety. He lurched to his feet, leaning heavily on Anduin for support, and quickly joined the throng of civilians evacuating the throne room under the Provost's watchful eye. Which left only Anduin himself without orders...
"Anduin -"
"Don't you dare try to make me hide..." he growled, pulling up to his full height and pushing out his chest in what he clearly hoped was an intimidating fashion. "I won't go, not if people need my help."
While only in his late teens, Anduin was still a foot taller than Auriana, and about twice as broad, and she was forced to tilt her head well back if she wanted to look him in the eye. She wondered whether he had been practising to mimic his father's best snarl, though he lacked Varian's natural, predatory aura. It also didn't help that he seemed to be fighting back the urge to add the word "please" to his threat, and despite the seriousness of the situation, it was all Auriana could do to bite back a grin.
"If you'd let me finish…" she continued, raising an eyebrow, "I was going to suggest that you join Captain Grayson and the contingent of guardsmen heading for the Cathedral. There will be wounded; you can assist in coordinating the relief effort."
Anduin opened his mouth to argue further, only to stumble over his words when he realised that she had raised no objections.
"Oh. Ah… well..." he coughed, "That's… that's exactly what I was going to say, so… carry on."
Of course, Auriana would have preferred Anduin take shelter with the others, but she was not so naïve as to believe he would simply go hide away like an obedient child. Better she knew where he was and that he had adequate protection, than having him sneaking out and getting into trouble on his own… or at least, she hoped Varian might see it that way.
Eventually.
"Thank you, Your Highness," Auriana said drily. "And Captain – I'm holding you personally responsible for the Prince's safety."
"I'll protect him like he was my own, ma'am," Grayson said seriously, beckoning for Anduin to join her. "Come on, Your Highness, we'd better get moving."
Anduin didn't need to be asked twice. He took a few eager steps forward at the Captain's invitation, only to pause and turn back towards Auriana a moment later; awkwardly shifting his weight between the balls of his feet.
"Auri…"
"Go. Before I change my mind."
"Just… be careful, won't you?" he insisted, his blue eyes earnest and bright.
"Always," she assured him. "And there's no need to fear – we'll soon have everything well in hand, you'll see."
Anduin nodded, more to himself than to Auriana, and after another second's hesitation, loped off down the promenade after Captain Grayson and her men. He was so wonderfully eager to help, and yet still so naïve in so many ways. Auriana fervently hoped that she would not come to regret her decision to send him to the Cathedral… but that would have to be a problem for another time. She glanced back over her shoulder at Ridley, who quickly stepped forward to join her charge at the base of the throne.
"You're 'always' careful?" she snorted, once Anduin was out of earshot. "That's news to me, Majesty…"
"I always try...?" Auriana amended. "Besides. I don't need to be careful. I have you."
Ridley looked less than amused. "I don't suppose you'd consider following the Provost and the others to the kitchens?"
"Oh, no. We're going to join the fight in the Trade District. If some upstart little demons think they can invade my city, they have another thing coming…"
Without waiting for a reply, Auriana reached for her magic… only to find herself staggering beneath by a sudden wave of nausea. She careened sideways into Ridley, and it was only through sheer stubbornness that she managed to remain upright as her power slipped through her grasp.
"Your Majesty? Are you alright?"
Ridley's hand closed over her shoulder for support, but Auriana shook her off.
"I'm fine," she growled, the words barely audible through her tightly clenched teeth.
In the heat of the moment, she had entirely forgotten about her recent difficulties with her uncooperative magic. But she could not afford to be tired, or out of sorts. She could not afford to be weak, not when her city was in danger. Varian had entrusted her with Stormwind's safety, and she damn well refused to let him down.
Auriana closed her eyes, and took a slow, centring breath. Her rage flickered, deep in her belly, and she made no effort to resist. She needed that anger if she were to save her city, and she deliberately stoked its fire with every last painful, bitter thought she'd borne in the weeks since the Tournament.
You are nothing more than a weapon of war, and you were used as such.
You have destroyed Azeroth's chances for peace.
Your magic is failing you.
You are no fit Queen.
You will never be worthy of his love...
Auriana's fury surged, just as she had hoped, and she latched onto it like a lifeline; using it to forcibly seize her power with an iron grip. It was a grim, brutish effort – one was meant to smoothly embrace the arcane, not wrestle it into submission – but there was no denying that her method had been effective. Never mind the stabbing pain in her temples or the nauseous churning of her stomach, magic once again flowed through her veins, and she let out a strangled gasp of pure relief.
Ugly magic was still magic, after all, and with magic on her side, there was nothing a few pesky demons could do to stop her. Auriana forced a portal into existence, violently tearing a hole in the fabric of the physical world, and with cold fury in her heart and arcane fire in her blood, she stepped forward to defend her city.
