It took Tiffin far too long to realise why she could hear, but not see Varian as she came to his chambers that morning.
Once again, she'd fallen victim to her own superstitious nature, and although something in the back of her mind told her that things were not as she presumed, that didn't stop her from foolishly hovering in his doorway like a frightened mouse, agitated by the grunts and huffs coming from the seemingly empty room.
It was only when she dared to call his name that her fears were abated. The king appeared as if he were a jack springing from its box, which in this case, was the floor beside his bed.
"I was starting to think we had a very angered spirit amongst us," Tiffin said, closing the door. To her utter delight, she heard a chuckle as Varian wiped his face with a nearby towel.
It was always easy to ascertain what kind of mood Varian was going to be in from the first sound he made; if one received a huff, or a grunt, then he was in a foul humour, and they would have to tread lightly with every word or action.
Were they to receive a chuckle, as Tiffin had, or a teasing sneer, then that set a good precedent, and paved the way for pleasant conversation.
"Well, there's no need to fear," Varian said, kissing her cheek after their usual friendly embrace. "I was merely experimenting with those new exercises the physician gave me."
Tiffin seemed pleasantly surprised by the news.
"I thought you told him that they were useless?" she pointed out, meandering about the breakfast table and using it to determine whether he'd eaten or drunk yet.
"Oh, they are. But if doing them proves to both him and Anduin that I'm fit for duty, then so be it," Varian said determinedly, happily accepting a goblet of water from her.
"Varian, don't overdo it, not now," she pleaded, knowing full well that it was falling on deaf ears. "You've made such good progress, it'll be a shame to ruin it."
"It's been two months since my hip was put back in place, Tiffin. That's more than enough time," Varian snapped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and shaking his head. "No- I've sat on my arse for long enough. It's time I pull my finger out and attend to the business at hand."
"You want so badly to go to Brill, don't you?" Tiffin asked sympathetically, although Varian knew it was because he'd ranted about it so many times, he couldn't help but feel a slight relief at her understanding.
She wasn't stupid, and he shouldn't have treated her as such when it came to affairs concerning the war.
"It doesn't feel right, cowering within these safe, secure walls, while what remains of my people are getting ready to risk their lives confronting the evil that took our home," Varian said forlornly.
There was a small silence between the two of them, and Varian was sure that Tiffin was using it to contemplate their situation as much as he had done for the past however many nights since the fall.
"When will you leave?" Tiffin asked simply.
"As soon as is humanly possible," Varian replied, coming to where she stood. "With your permission, of course."
"You don't need my permission, Varian," murmured Tiffin, who gladly took his hand when he held it out.
"Your blessing, then," Varian corrected, gently squeezing her fingers. "You are to be my wife, after all. It's only right that I don't completely blind-side you with my intentions."
"I appreciate that, Varian, truly I do. But it's wholly unnecessary," insisted Tiffin, who was actually starting to feel quite uncomfortable.
"The woman whose blessing you should be seeking is already down there. It's only right that you join her."
"Why did you have to make this about Val?" Varian sighed, but to Tiffin's surprise, there was no anger in his voice, but more an exasperated sadness. From his furrowed brow and clenched jaw, she'd been anticipating quite the lashing from him.
"Apologies, I just presumed-"
"-presumed what? That the only reason I want to join my betters in battle is because I'm a barbarian who can't go a time without his woman? I would've thought you better than such misconceptions," Varian ranted, and that was when a spark ignited in Tiffin's head, and she realised exactly why his emotions were suddenly all over the place.
"...You can admit you're missing her, Varian. I shan't tease you for it," she said, tentatively reaching back out and patting his arm. His entire body shuddered with a more intense sigh than the one before it, and Varian forced himself to swallow in order to clear his windpipe.
"Whether I'm missing her or not is irrelevant," he said, knowing full well that it was a bold-faced lie.
"I can't weave my motivations around my relationship, and I don't care how callous I sound, it's what Val herself would want me to say."
Varian cleared his throat again in order to bookend the conversation, but something in his heart told him that all Tiffin wished to do was shower reassurances and kind words upon him. In any normal circumstances, Varian would've welcomed them, but today he was convinced that he'd burst into unsightly tears after even one.
"Has she written lately?" Tiffin asked instead, knocking Varian almost sideways with the frankness to her voice.
"Not lately, no. The last letter I received was…" he trailed off, and with frustration fuelling him, he stomped over to his writing desk and wrenched it open.
There was a furious shuffling as he rifled through the unorganised heap of missives that he'd stored away, but eventually, he found the one he wanted and plucked it from its resting place.
He hastily unfolded it, and felt his nostrils flare as he examined the date written in the top corner.
"Six weeks ago. So just after she arrived at camp," he grunted, throwing it back onto the desk as if it'd personally offended him.
"All those times I forgot to write when Iwas at barracks…you'd think I'd be able to handle being on the other side better than this."
"Absolutely no one can blame you for finding it hard, Varian. Especially after all that's happened," Tiffin assured him, but still, Varian refused to break the stony look on his face.
"She's done it enough times. Now it's my turn to put on my big boy pants and leave her to do what she needs to," he said, wondering if the tremor in his hands would stop anytime soon.
"At least say 'hello' to her once you get there," Tiffin suggested, hoping her smile would be a balm for him.
"If she comes to me, I'll give her more than that. Until then, I can't intrude on what she's built for herself," Varian said, finally forcing the corners of his mouth to rise.
"I can't imagine the lashing I'll get if I barge in on whatever routine she's established."
"Oh, I should think someone would have to pull her off you and call the medics," Tiffin joked, opening the balcony doors to let the morning breeze in, and swallow the stale musk of Varian's training.
"Exactly. So it's better for all involved if I simply keep my distance," Varian concluded. He began to unwind the tight bandages he'd put on his hands, and rubbed at his palm as soon as it was visible.
"Besides, I'll probably end up as busy as she is once I get there."
"So I shouldn't expect any correspondence either?" Tiffin teased, tying the curtains.
"You jest, but I probably won't be sending any letters unless they're about an imminent attack," Varian affirmed, taking the other bandage off and throwing them both into the waste bin.
Tiffin noticed then that he went silent again.
"But I would appreciate it if you wrote me concerning any…new developments," Varian murmured, feeling his own tongue sour as he did it. Tiffin's smile disappeared, and she gave him a short, respectful nod.
"You'll be the first to know," she assured him, and although he knew this was an abundantly necessary conversation, Varian could feel himself stiffening as if he'd been shot with a paralysing arrow.
"Thank you," he mumbled, wringing his hands simply to keep them busy. "I'd rather not have to put you through such a demeaning procedure again, so let's hope it's worked."
"I'll do it as many times as I need to, Varian. It's my duty, just as much as going into battle is yours," Tiffin said, sounding alot calmer than Varian felt about the situation.
"You say that with such grace, when most women would be repulsed by even the notion," Varian said, letting his hair loose ready for his morning bath.
"I'm far more repulsed by the idea of sleeping with a man whose heart's not a slither in it, in all honesty," Tiffin admitted, patting his arm on her way to his wardrobe.
"Well when you put it that way, I suppose we chose the best option," Varian grumbled.
"Yes, we did. For all of us," Tiffin affirmed, taking down a shirt from it's hanger.
Varian wanted desperately to point out how the decision to conceive was more for the kingdom than it was them, but he knew Tiffin was already thinking such a thing, so it'd be a redundant argument.
"Did I ever tell you that Val and I tried once?" he asked instead, though exactly why he did it, he had absolutely no idea. Maybe it'd been sitting on his chest for too long, and his conscience had finally decided to expel it, as if it were a virus that required purging.
"No, you didn't," Tiffin replied, sounding just as surprised as he did at his confession. She put his clothes on the bed, and sat down next to them, as if she were inviting him to elaborate when really, Varian himself wasn't sure whether he wanted to.
"Aye…it was a long time ago now, but I can remember it all as if it were yesterday," Varian said, running a fingertip over a scratch in the tabletop.
"Looking back, we were far too young to have been considering such things," he continued, feeling a whisper of a laugh in his throat. "But then, we were reckless in every other way imaginable, so at the time, it made complete sense to us."
"I never considered you inclined towards children," Tiffin admitted, and to her relief, Varian seemed in no way offended by her observation.
"I wasn't, until we agreed to meet in Stormwind Park one day, and she arrived pushing a pram that had a sleeping newborn inside it," Varian replied, taking a seat and knocking his knuckles against the wood.
"Was it her cousin's boy?" Tiffin asked, trying to recollect what little information she'd gathered on Val's family over the past few months.
"No…no, it was a friend of hers- I can't remember her name. But I remember the child's- 'little Ollie' we called him," Varian mused, finally letting a smile compliment the nostalgic gleam in his eye.
"Bonnie lad, he was. All ruddy cheeks and dirty blonde hair."
He cleared his throat, as if he'd realised that he was getting off track.
"Val had offered to have him for the day, so of course, that meant I had to as well. I was furious with her at first, and told her she was a mare for dumping him on me when it was supposed to be our day. Jump ahead three hours, and I was playing 'round and round the garden' with him like it was going out of fashion," Varian concluded, putting a hand on his thigh simply to keep it still.
"That night, we couldn't stop talking about how much fun we'd had. How it all felt so…natural. Next day, we decided to bin whatever sheaths I had left, and she poured her contraceptive down the sink."
"I would ask if anything came of it, but the answer is quite obvious," Tiffin said, and that's when Varian's face dropped.
"It wasn't to us- not for the first few months, at least. It was when it turned into six that we started to question what we were doing wrong. By a year, we'd started to give up hope," Varian lamented.
"We would've sought help, but not long after, the betrothal was announced. Of course, you know what happened after that."
Tiffin's brow began to furrow, and on a face that was normally so placid, it was an ugly, horrid expression.
"Varian, are you trying to tell me that you might be infertile?" she pressed, leaning forward as if that would make Varian answer quicker.
"I have absolutely no idea. If you fall quickly enough, then no, I'm not. If you don't, then we'll have to consider the very real possibility that Stormwind may not get an heir, and this marriage will be for nothing," Varian told her, wishing he'd never started the conversation now that it'd taken such a bleak turn.
"Then let us hope that…well, that it's-"
"- that it's Val with the problem, and not me?" Varian barked. "That'd be even worse, and you know it."
"Worse than a civil war over Stormwind's throne? Please, Varian, forgive me for saying so, but I can't possibly think of anything worsethan that," Tiffin argued, knowing full well that she was treading a very dangerous path by saying such a thing.
"Think about it, Tiffin! I've already made sure that she'll never marry. Imagine if I tell her that it was because of her that we never had children on top of that. It will destroywhatever hope she has left," Varian growled, shoving his chair back.
"No- the best we can hope for is that it takes a while for you to conceive, and it all turns out to have been sheer bad luck."
"It does play out that way sometimes," Tiffin said, choosing to simply sooth, instead of argue with him any further. It wasn't worth her breath, nor her sanity.
"I should pack," Varian said abruptly, pacing the floor as if he didn't really have any idea of where exactly he wanted to go.
"Now Khaz Modan's been hit, the orcs will move north. So our troops won't be at Brill for much longer…I don't want to get there and find I've been left in the dust."
"I can help, if you'd like me to?" Tiffin offered, leaving her spot and resting a hand on his arm in a feeble attempt to make him stop in his tracks.
He still looked emotional; in fact, Tiffin was sure that were she to leave the room, he would let the tears welling in his eyes freely fall. His arms were trembling with both rage and sadness, and his jaw was clenched tight enough to make her wonder if his teeth were about to pop out one by one.
"Please," he murmured, taking a deep breath and fighting to compose himself.
Her smile was gentle, and understanding, which was just what he needed right now. She gave his bicep an encouraging pat, and were he as superstitious as she, Varian would've sworn that she injected some sort of calming aura into him with the gesture.
Thankfully, he wasn't inclined to such a notion, and knew that it was simply having someone who understood that was the invigorating agent.
He cleared his throat as he realised he was still standing idle, and without a word needing to be said between them, he and Tiffin got to work packing up what little he'd need for the potential months he'd be away.
"Something tells me we're moving out soon."
Carson's out-of-nowhere speculation made everyone in their little group stop what they were doing and look at him with a mixture of expressions; Hemming and Val seemed pensive, Kay was disgruntled, and Arin looked downright scared.
"What makes you think that?" Val asked, scraping the edges of her bowl with the tip of her spoon. The hour they all had to eat their supper was coming to an end, and she knew that if she didn't ingest every last scrap of her meager meal, she would regret it for the rest of the night.
"Think about it; pastries for breakfast, training cut short for an early recreation…why else are we suddenly being treated so well?" Carson mused, tearing his hunk of bread in half and putting one of them in the pocket of his trousers to feast upon after lights out.
"The posting said we'd be here for three months, Car, and it's only been two. We're nowhere near ready to face the orcs, and I should hope that the general knows that," Hemming reasoned.
"Aye, but we have no fuckin clue as to what's going on down south, Hem. The orcs could be getting here quicker than we all realise," Carson argued.
"They wouldn't just throw us to the wolves like that…would they?" Arin asked, with his already pale features turning a waxy white.
"They'll do whatever they need to slow the Horde down," Carson said gravely, throwing his crusts to the floor with the knowledge that a fox or bird would make good use of them later.
"Alright, I think that's quite enough of that, thank you," Val interjected, putting her bowl next to her and brushing her hands off on her thighs.
"We've more than enough on our plates already, without you adding scaremongering onto it, Car."
"I'm just saying that it's a bit odd, that's all," Carson retorted, as if he'd merely been talking about the weather.
"If we are to leave soon, then I suppose it's an appropriate time to admit that I'll miss this place," Hemming said, leaning back on both hands.
"Aye- we've had it pretty good here, all things considered," Kay said, plucking at the grass in front of her. "Makes me curious as to what the next camp will be like."
"Can we please talk about anythingelse?" Val pleaded, but apparently, that particular wish wasn't going to be granted.
"Like what, exactly? In case you haven't noticed, Tinkerbell, there's not alot going on in our lives lately," Carson argued, reaching over to flick her. Thankfully, Val moved her head out the way just in time, and gave him a sneer that was only halfplaying about.
"He has a point, Val. This whole business of the war has pretty much consumed every other pastime we had," Hemming pointed out. "Before I signed up, I would've been frittering my time away with books and badminton at this point in the day."
"My mum would be starting dinner about now," Arin mused, latching on to Hemming's subject of home as if it were a comfort blanket to him.
"A properdinner mind you. Like her steak and kidney pie, with a big dollop of freshly mashed potatoes."
"There used to be a pie shop in Stormwind that the other half and I went to nearly every week," Val said, sharing a knowing smile with Kay.
"'Old Pete's Pies', it was called. Did the best gravy that I've ever tasted," Kay finished, turning her smile into a grin.
"Light, no wonder none of you could do a push up when you got here," Carson teased, barely feeling the swat that Val gave to his calf.
"Oi, there's nothing wrong with enjoying good food when it's there," she chided, scraping her hair back from her face. It'd now grown long enough to tie in a stubbed ponytail, but she'd be damned if she ever managed to locate a band to do it with.
"All soldiers of the Stormish Infantry, fall in!"
There was a collective groan as Garside's bellow drifted across the field. "I thought we still had fifteen bloody minutes," Carson grumbled, pushing himself onto his feet.
"We did…someone must've done something," Hemming assumed, helping Kay up.
"If this is because Brennan took more rolls again, I'm going to fucking clump him," Val muttered, snatching up her bowl so that she could dump it in the bucket on the way.
"They wouldn't call us allover for that," Arin pointed out, brushing the backside of his trousers down.
"Oh, Garside would- I bet he's got all the rolls stacked in a pyramid, and he's about to set fire to them just to 'make an example' of Brennan," Carson theorised, and even Hemming cracked a smile this time around.
"I should think he'll have a riot on his hands if that's the case," said the blonde, who had to stretch in order to see over the throngs of soldiers gathering in the main square.
"Yeah, but the camp would smell bloody lovely," Carson retorted, making a titter rise up from within the group.
"Infantry! Positions!"
"Oh no, that means a drill," Val whined as she lined up with the rest of them.
"Either that, or this'll be the order to pack up, just as I said," Carson half-whispered, taking the spot next to her and putting his hands behind his back as they all stood there speculating what they were about to be put through.
"Hail His Majesty, King Varian Wrynn!"
Val's heart dropped straight into her boots, and she almost feltthe colour drain from her face as Varian's horse thundered into the village like it had nothing to lose.
She barely contributed to the repeating shout that every soldier around her gave, and felt Kay's thin hand grasp hers.
"Breathe, Val," she muttered, giving the younger woman's fingers an encouraging squeeze.
"Ah, so that's your amazing king, is it?" Carson asked, never taking his eyes from the monarch as he dismounted, and stomped up the three steps leading to the platform normally used for morning announcements.
"Aye…it is," Val stammered, with her brows turning downward. "What the hells is he doing here? He's getting married in a week. He should be in Lordaeron getting ready for it."
"Maybe this is his way of getting out of it?" Arin joked, not realising how such a notion offended Val to her very core.
"It better not fucking be," she murmured, with Kay's fingers tightening in both agreement, and reassurance.
"At ease, all of you," Varian commanded smoothly, and although her stance slackened, the tight knots in Val's stomach showed absolutely no signs of relaxing.
"I was hoping to arrive with less of a fanfare…but now it seems not the case, I may as well inform you all that the kingdoms leaders have agreed to form an Alliance against those calling themselves the Horde. Reinforcements from Gilneas and Samarkand will be joining you presently," Varian announced, much to the utter delight of those crowded about him.
Whoops and cheers rang across the field, and it was only the raising of Varian's gauntleted hand that forced them to ebb.
"But, I do have to add the caveat that the Horde itself has increased its assault. Earlier this week, we received word that Khaz Modan has fallen to Orcish forces," he added, looking older than Val had ever seen him. "So in three days time, you shall all be moving out to the Hillsbrad border, where you will hold ranks against them."
"See- I fucking told you," Carson hissed, but Val angrily shushed him, despite his small victory.
"I shall spend today briefing your appropriate generals. Prepare yourselves, for this will be the biggest fight in recent history. Good day to you all," Varian concluded, and just like that, he was gone- melded with the chattering crowds and disappearing from view.
"Three days…that's barely anything!" Arin cried, running a hand through his hair. "We're not going to beat the Horde the way we are. Not a chance in all the hells are we."
"You'll be surprised at what normal folk can do when put under immense pressure, Arin," Hemming said, hurriedly trying his best to calm the youngest of their group.
"Val, are you alright?" Kay asked, dropping her voice to a low whisper and pulling Val gently away from the others. "I- I'm not really sure," Val admitted, feeling her heart beating furiously against her ribcage.
"Of course, I'm glad to see him. Ecstatic, even. But I'll not get a moment with him, not now. So it's all rather bittersweet."
"Even seeing his face in that one moment might be just enough to get you through," Kay said reassuringly. It didn't really work, but Val gave her a smile regardless of her feelings.
"Of course it will. Hells, it was more than some people here are going to get," Val replied, squeezing the hand that was on his shoulder.
"Oi, you two!" Carson called, stomping over to them. "The lads and I have decided that if we're going to die in three days time, then we're having some fun beforehand. Come on, we're going to the tavern."
"Garside won't allow it, Car," Val dead-panned, but the hulking man waved a hand of dismissal.
"You just heard His Majesty- Ol' Garside's going to be in meetings for the rest of the day. So we're free to do whatever we bloody well please," Carson argued, and despite wanting to keep the peace with her superiors, Val couldn't help but sigh in defeat.
"Fine. One drink, that's it," she stressed, following the joyous Kul Tiran in a crushing melancholy that she was sure a pint of ale wasn't going to fix.