Varian was growing frustrated. He'd been under the impression that the leaders had gathered solely to discuss the war, and what was to happen next concerning both the Horde, and Stormwind.
Instead, he'd been informed that they were in Lordaeron to first witness his coronation- an event that had been at the very bottom of Varian's priority list.
But that wasn't to say that he didn't understand whyTerenas was so adamant to put a crown on his head. His people were still in a dire state of flux, with most not knowing whether they were coming or going.
They needed someone stable to look to for encouragement…a 'beacon', Terenas had called it. Apparently, that was to be Varian, who certainly didn't feel like one, and doubted that would change after a simple ceremony.
Every day, he was receiving new reports of growing atrocities against what was left of his kingdom. Aside from being pillaged until every one of it's bones were picked clean, any survivors had been apparently rounded up, tortured, and Light knew what else.
Varian had lost nights of sleep after being haunted by the news, and with each passing hour, all he wanted to do was take Shalamayne from it's case, and storm the city with what little men he already had.
He knew it would end abysmally, but at least he could say he damn well tried.
Thankfully, the call to arms had already gone up, and name upon name had been scratched onto it…including Val's.
She had sworn to Varian that it was just an application for the post of quartermaster, but he knew better. He'd made enquiries, and snuck a look at her paperwork; she was to be part of the Stormwind Auxiliary, and move out in two months with the rest of them.
Their ensuing argument over the matter had been shamelessly explosive. It was only when their voices had grown hoarse from screaming at each other that they reached a consensus- although, Val would proudly call it Varian's surrender.
He had no control over her, that much was true. She'd made that point over and over until it'd been well and truly drummed into him, and although he was desperate to argue with her, he knew deep in his heart that she was right. If she wanted to go, that was her choice, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
He didn't like it- in fact, he hated it. But he was powerless. All he could do was make sure that by the time she left, she was properly ready.
So they'd started her training early. Every morning, they went out into the training grounds hidden away behind Lordaeron Keep, and he'd put her through gruelling drills that always earnt him a glare, or a curse upon his name.
But each time he'd remind her that he was only doing what her captain would, so she soon quietened her grumbles, and got on with it.
The morning before his coronation, however, he was giving her a well deserved break. He had no time for tutoring; he had meetings to attend, and guests to welcome. In fact, the breakfast they were having together would probably be one of only two or three moments that they would spend together before bed later on.
It was nice, sitting in the crisp winter sun, and feeling a breeze that carried the perfumed scents of the flowers starting to bloom in the grounds below them. A thick wooden trellis attached to the balconies railings hid them from prying eyes, and gave them the chance to truly relax before the daily chaos started all over again.
The only thing that was mildly troubling Varian was the look on Val's face as she read the letter Gregor had delivered not ten minutes ago. She'd not said a word since she'd unfolded it, and her brow had descended until it practically touched the bridge of her nose.
"Be careful, Sweetheart- if the wind changes, your face will stay like that," Varian said, trying to gain her attention in a way that didn't seem too demanding. Thankfully, it worked, and she looked up from her task with more of a confused expression, than an annoyed one.
"Eh? What you on about?" she asked, clearly not realising how her features had shifted.
"You look as vexed about that letter, as I did when I heard Greymane was staying here," Varian explained, bringing her frown right back.
"Oh," she said, putting said missive down and leaning back in her chair.
"Care to tell me what it says?" Varian prompted, but Val's nose wrinkled in clear annoyance.
"It's not what's in it that's pissed me off," she said, drumming the table.
"So it's more who it's from?" Varian confirmed, swiping the chunk of sausage that he'd just stabbed through his broken egg yolk.
"Mhm," Val affirmed further, taking her teacup in hand.
"It's from Robin," she told him, and now, he understood.
"She'll write when she's ready, Val. Remember, she's mourning, just as you are," he said, trying to diplomatic when really, the situation probably didn't deserve such efforts.
"That's no excuse to completely blank me, Varian. Especially when she knowsthat I'm leaving in two days," Val huffed.
"In her defence, Sweetheart- If I'mnot happy about the fact, you couldn't expect your grandmother to be thrilled by it," Varian pointed out, but as he'd suspected, it only made things worse.
"I wasn't 'thrilled' about some of the choices she's made in her life…I didn't make her suffer for them," Val said glumly.
"I've been here nearly three weeks, and all I've gotten is one letter telling me to 'come home'."
"You know Minnie as well as I do love. When you said 'no', it wounded her pride. The only thing we can do while she sulks, is wait," Varian told her, even though he was sure that it was the last thing she wanted to hear.
"She's such a stubborn, hard-nosed cow," Val grumbled, folding the letter back up and tossing it onto the table.
"Well, at least we know where you get it from," Varian teased. Thankfully, he ducked just in time to avoid the bread roll she lobbed at his head.
"I can't even ask you to try and talk to her, to see if it Is just meshe's angry at," Val pointed out, and despite his efforts, Varian couldn't disagree.
"I think that would be a most regrettable idea," he said, ripping his bacon apart with his fingers simply to save time.
"If what you've told me about her views towards me are true, I'm probably the lastperson she wants to hear from."
"Making me wonder if this is about me joining the army at all," Val moaned, raking her hair back from her face and growing more frustrated when it simply fell back into place.
"I'll admit, I was thinking the same thing," Varian confessed, unfolding his napkin so he could rid his hands of dripping residue.
"But then, she knew far before the fall that we were back together, and she seemed to have no troubles then."
"Not to my face, she didn't," Val retorted. "Light only knows what she said to the rest of my family when I wasn't looking."
She sighed, and started pushing the rest of her lushrooms around the plate.
"Maybe it's better that I don't hear from her yet. I've enough on my mind, without listening to her gobbing off."
"A wise way to look at it," Varian agreed, pouring himself another coffee. "She'll soon come around, and by then, you'll be well established in yourself, so you'll be able to handle anything she throws our way."
"You're sounding alot more chipper about my decision than you did when we went to bed last night," Val suspiciously noted.
"I'm in no way, shape of form 'chipper' about the fact that you're leaving to fight in a war that I'm not sure we can win," he deadpanned, putting his mug down.
"But…I do recognise that I've done the same thing to you a number of times, and you never once forced me to do anything but what I felt was needed. So grumbling about it would be most hypocritical of me."
"But?" Val asked, knowing full well that there was another one coming.
"But," Varian affirmed, scrubbing at the rim with his thumb. "…That doesn't mean that I won't be obscenely worried about you."
He started biting the inside of his cheek, which was a tried and tested way for him to keep any bubbling emotion in check.
"I can't come to the camp until after the wedding. By that point, you would've moved out already. Even when I do arrive, I don't know when, or how often I can see you. That doesn't sit well with me, and I think you'll appreciate my saying so."
"I do appreciate it. But it's like you just said- we've done it before. The only difference this time is that we'll be doing the same thing, instead of having me sit at home and wait like a prat for you to write," Val replied, with a hint of a smirk that Varian didn't quite like.
"Besides, we can see each other nearly every night, once you're in-camp- you'll be like all the other men smuggling in a few hours with their whores."
"That's not funny in the slightest, and I'll thank you to never call yourself such a disgusting thing again," Varian growled, falling right into her trap and making her laugh more.
"My point stands though," Val countered, stifling a laugh as Varian's glare grew darker.
"Not when it's a stupid point, it doesn't," he grunted, but as usual, she wasn't fazed by his sharply changing mood.
"Oh come on, Varian- once you're married, it'll be what most people call me. We may as well have a laugh about it," Val reasoned.
"Just hearing you say that with such ease is putting the fear of the Light in me," Varian replied, abandoning his meal altogether.
"Why? Because I don't care anymore?" Val questioned.
"No, because I do. Everytime I think someone talks ill of you, I want to rip their tongues from their heads. But I know if I make good on that, there'll be a lot more mutes in Lordaeron come Nobelgarden," he lamented.
"I wish I could be as blasé as you and Tiffin. I should be at this point in the proceedings."
"You're the protector when it comes to us, Varian, you always have been. It makes complete sense that you're not as comfortable as we are," Val soothed, and finallythere was a small smile tugging at Varian's scarred lip.
"Then what, pray tell, does that make you, my love?" he asked, somehow already knowing what kind of answer he was about to receive.
"Oh, I'm the endurer," Val quipped. "The one that puts up with your shit."
"Strange- I didn't realise they gave the same title to multiple recipients," Varian teased. Val looked appropriately offended, and dramatised said offence by putting a hand to her chest.
"How fucking dare- well, I never!" she cried, adding a flounce as she threw her head back.
"Oh hush, you- you know damn well you can be an imp when you want," Varian said, mopping up what was left of his breakfast with a slice of bread.
"Well, yes, but you're not supposed to just sayit," Val moped, looking up and to the west as the distant sound of church bells rang. "Damn it…I thought we had more time than this."
"We've had plenty, Sweetheart, and I'll be seeing you tonight, remember," Varian soothed, reaching over and taking her hand.
"We'll take dinner in our chambers, and make the most of the evening."
"Sounds good," Val said, flashing him a warm, genuine smile.
"Although…my offer to spend a morning with me entertaining the other leaders is still there."
This time, Val gave him a knowing laugh that prepared him for a gentle rejection.
"That's very nice of you love, but I need to finish those gauntlets of yours. They need to look their best, if you're going to wear them tomorrow," Val said, finding his childish grimace rather hilarious.
"I'd gladly forsake them, if it means I have backup," Varian grumbled, squeezing her fingers with his own.
"I'd deeply appreciate it if you did come with me…I'll even throw in a trip to the chipper, if that takes your fancy."
"Begging doesn't become you, Varian Wrynn," scolded Val, who slid her hand from his and pushed her chair back.
"You have your duties, I have mine." That was when she came around the table and kissed the crown of his head.
"Do you think if I stick my head over a basin of boiling water for long enough, I could trick Terenas into believing I'm feverish? Perhaps by some miracle, he'll demand I go back to bed, and forget the whole affair," Varian mused, hearing her laughter grow louder as she came closer to his ear.
Her arms wrapped affectionately around his neck.
"That didn't work when we were children, and it won't work now," she said definitively, and finally, an expression of reluctant defeat etched its way onto Varian's face.
"You better have a stiff drink waiting for me once I get back," he grumbled.
"If you're a very good boy, I'll make sure the whole bottle's there," Val assured him. "Now go on- you can't go down there smelling like a boar's arse. I'll get your clothes ready."
"Varian! Hold on!"
Varian did indeed hold on, for the light, friendly call came from one of only three voices that he'd been glad to hear today.
"Gregor, leave Prince Greymane and I for the moment, will you?" he requested of the darker haired man, who of course, obeyed without question.
"I'll await Your Majesty in your study," Gregor said, adding a light bow, just to make his point.
"You mean the glorified cupboard Terenas has given me? Fine. I'll be there presently," Varian grumbled, turning on his heel to greet the redhead that had finally caught up with him. Liam Greymane was a peculiar young man- in some ways, he resembled his father to the point where it became eerie.
But the second he opened his mouth, there was no trace of Genn at all. If anything, the prince presented himself a perfect mix of his parents, and to Varian's delight, it was the best parts that had been divided.
"Thank you, old friend," Liam said once he was beside the king. "I'm not accustomed to running very far, so i appreciate you obliging me."
"Not at all. What can I do for you, Liam?" Varian asked, clearly noticing the way that the prince was worrying the rim of his top hat through his gloved fingers.
"You can accept my sincerest apologies, for a start," Liam admitted, falling into step with Varian as the younger man resumed his mission to distance himself from the council chamber.
"For what? You've done nothing to offend," Varian pointed out, growing more confused with each answer he received from his newfound companion.
"I know Ihaven't, but you'll never get one from my father's own lips, so it's up to me to once again give it to whomever he's insulted," Liam explained, looking about as weary as Varian felt.
"You need to stop saying sorry for the crap he does, Liam. He's not grateful for it, and those you say it to will only end up thinking you spineless for doing it," Varian said, using as plain a tongue as he could.
"Aye, but if I don't do it, it'll end one day with Gilneas having absolutely no allies whatsoever," Liam pointed out, looking behind him as if he feared his father was standing right there.
"I don't want to be friendless once I eventually inherit the throne, Varian. Especially not now."
Varian could admire such a sentiment. It was one he'd never had to consider, even when he and Llane were at their most toxic with each other, for there was always a mutual respect between the two of them.
It was clear that no such bond existed between Genn and Liam, and while it would sadden any other man, it only angered Varian, who resented the former for not realising what he could lose in the blink of an eye.
"You can always find companions in both Val and I, Liam. I've said it too many times, but shall repeat it as many as is necessary," Varian assured him, and a lop-sided smile appeared on Liam's freckled face.
"I appreciate that. Truly I do," he said, smoothing his burnt-red hair. "In fact, I may have to take advantage of that kindness, in the imminent future."
"I presume you need me to help with your 'delicate matter'?" Varian said diplomatically, knowing full well that there were many pairs of ears about them.
"Yes…can we speak for a moment? In your chambers, maybe?" Liam asked, and of course, Varian nodded.
"I'm dying for a cup of coffee, and I'm sure you're as hungry as I. Come, we'll take lunch together," he said, perplexing Liam with his chuckle.
"Just be wary…Val's taken it upon herself to prim and polish my armour for tomorrow, so no doubt we'll get there to find her swearing and stressing."
"Oh, I'm sure my delicate disposition will be able to handle it," Liam joked, flashing him a toothy grin.
When they eventually reached Varian's chambers, they could hear nothing beyond the door, save the sweet tones of clinking piano keys.
"Tiffin must be in there," Varian muttered, but Liam was surprised to see not an ounce of contempt at the fact on his companion's face.
"Visit each other regularly, do they?" he asked, not wishing to pry, but being genuinely curious.
"Nowadays, yes. I'm actually starting to think they're conspiring against me, the amount of time they spend together," Varian half-joked. He felt no qualms on simply barging his way in now he knew the queen herself was present, for it made all question of Val's potential indecency null and void.
"Good afternoon, ladies," Varian greeted, making the music stop, and two heads turn to face him.
"You're back early," Val observed, putting down the rag she was using to buff a shin-guard that resting on her thigh.
"How was the meeting?" Tiffin asked, choosing to get straight to the point.
"Fair enough, I'll admit. But I'll tell you about it later- for now, we've a guest," Varian explained, beckoning Liam, who was clearly as accustomed to being announced before entering a room as the king himself, was waiting by the doorframe.
"Your Highness! Welcome!" Tiffin said brightly, rising from the piano's stool and immediately dipping into a curtsey.
"You'll forgive me If I don't get up," Val said, waving a hand in front of herself. "I think I'll give you a bit of a fright if I do."
"There's no forgiveness needed, Miss," Liam assured her, taking his coat off and putting it on the rack standing by the door.
"Tea? It was only sent up a few minutes ago," Tiffin offered, gliding over to the breakfast table, where a porcelain tea service was sitting proudly.
"Yes please. Two sugars," Liam replied, happily accepting Varian's further offer of one of the chairs sitting by the fire.
"How are you getting on, Sweetheart?" Varian murmured, kissing the crown of Val's head.
"I've finished most of it already," Val said.
"I'm deliberately leaving your pauldrons until last, though. Why the hells you had to have ones bigger than your bloody head is beyond me."
"Don't look to me for answers, Sweetheart- my father designed the suit," Varian said defensively, taking the seat opposite Liam and feeling his aching legs thank him for it.
"Besides, they're more for show, then they are battle."
"Really? I should think they would prove quite useful on a battlefield," Liam observed, thanking Tiffin for the cup she brought over for him. "You can just spin a circle and knock your enemies out one by one."
"Oh, if only it were that bloody easy," Varian lamented, sharing a chuckle with him.
"Now, come on then. What was it you wished to talk to me about?"
It was then that Liam's grin faded, and he started to mash his lips together as if he were a child that was trying to conjure up a feasible lie.
"Well…I've already told you that Kate is expecting, haven't I?" he asked, as if he himself couldn't actually remember doing such a thing. Varian's face softened, and he gave him a nod.
"You did. She can't be far off now, surely?" Varian questioned, and now, Liam started to grow excitable again.
"A month, according to the midwife," Liam affirmed.
"You must be looking forward to the big day," Val chirped, already knowing of Liam's 'situation' from Varian, who looked as equally pleased.
It was quite a privilege, to be trusted with the colossal intel that the Prince of Gilneas had a wife. Especially when his father had absolutely no clue of her existence.
About six years ago, when Val had been but fourteen years old, Varian had divulged that Liam had married a commoner in complete secret. He'd also confessed throughout the years that such an act had given him the final slither of confidence he'd needed to court Val as openly as he had.
He knew that while Genn would completely disapprove and even condemn his own son for doing such a thing, Llane was far more lenient, so no punishment would be in store for them.
So in hindsight, Val had Liam to thank for her relationship with Varian progressing as much as it had.
His wife, Katherine Stratford, lived in Duskhaven, and as far as Val knew, Liam saw her rather frequently, all things considered. It wasn't the ideal arrangement, but she supposed if the two of them were happy, there was no point to bringing up the absurdity attached to it.
"Not half. But it brings about its own problems. Problems I need both you, and Arty's help with," Liam said, shifting in his seat.
"Let's not beat around the bush, eh? Tell me what you need, Liam, and I'll see it done to the best of my ability," Varian replied, taking his coffee from Tiffin and letting it warm his palms.
"...If I can't persuade my father to join this Alliance of Terenas'…I need you to promise me that I can send Kate hereto give birth. Somewhere safer than Gilneas will be."
Varian sat alot straighter, and his brow furrowed deeply.
"You know that's not up to me, Liam. Terenas has the final word on such matters."
"Yes, but if I tell him Varian, then he will tell my father, and everything will fall to pieces before I can stop it," Liam argued, and an air of complete sympathy permeated the quiet room.
"I can't smuggle a heavily pregnant woman into the Keep and assume that no-one will notice," Varian protested, leaning forward and resting his chin on one hand.
"I know that. Of course I do," Liam said defeatedly, earning further empathy from the king sitting opposite him.
"I know you're worried about her, my friend. Were the shoe on the other foot, I'd be going out of my mind with fear," Varian started, running a hand down his face as if that would suddenly give him clarity.
"Varian, if my father ruins this chance, which you and I know full well he may do, Gilneas will simply be a sitting duck, waiting for the Horde to sink it's teeth into our necks. We'll be unprotected. My childwill be unprotected," Liam babbled, and the only thing to stop his shaking was Varian's hand resting forcefully upon his shoulder.
"Your father may be a lot of things, Liam, but he's not an idiot. A fool maybe, but not an idiot. He will notruin this chance. I'll make damn sure of it," Varian said firmly.
"But, that being said…I'll have a word with Arthas, and see what we can do that doesn't end with us both being exiled."
"Thank you," Liam murmured, patting the king's hand. "I have faith in you, my friend."
"If only I can convince the rest of the kingdoms to do the same, I'd be a happier man," Varian said, releasing the redhead and giving him what he hoped was a promising smile.
"Now then…I do believe someone promised me a bite to eat?" Liam joked, turning Varian's smile into a grin.
"Of course, what an ungracious host I am. Let me wash up, and I'll have the servants sent for."
