westwhere | [closed]

WHO: Anduin & Wrathion
WHEN: Present-ish, following this conversation
WHERE: Their accommodations
WHAT: Anduin receives an assignment from the Merchant; having absolutely no idea how to handle this, he be panicking a little
WARNINGS: discussion of Wrathion's history with content including draconic slavery/experimentation/forced breeding

Anduin paces back and forth along the length of the room -- their room, he supposes he should consider it, though he is still having some trouble adjusting to that fact -- his hands clasped behind his back and a troubled expression on his face.

He supposes he might have expected a message from the Merchant sooner or later. Anduin has questioned the man's motivations in aiding the displaced otherworlders from the start, Anduin's distrust of his motivations only growing the more that he had learned about the strings the man was pulling behind the scenes of the rebellion. With the debt that is owed to the man from the way that he had rescued them from the desert, it stands to reason that he would come knocking, asking for some sort of compensation. When the message finally comes, however...

Anduin feels as though a mistake has been made. Or is it a test? Of his resolve? His dedication to the cause? Whatever the Merchant's motivations are for having chosen Anduin himself for this particular assignment, they can't be good.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, that is a start he supposes.

"And what will you do if they declare her character without fault? What will you do, in turn, if they declare it corrupt and beyond saving? What will you do if the result is evenly split?"

Just something to consider. Gathering more information is wise, and something he would encourage, but knowing what you intend to do with it is worthwhile too. Otherwise it can just be an endless stalling tactic -- continuing to research more until you run out of time.

Anduin turns once again to frown at Wrathion over his shoulder.

"I am capable of receiving advice and devising my own opinion from it," he replies, his words coming a little harder than they might otherwise have done, but he doesn't necessarily appreciate the implication otherwise.

Forcing himself to take in a breath, he turns away again. It isn't fair to take his stress out on Wrathion, he just wishes... He wishes he knew more about what to do. That there were more of a clear path to follow, instead of muddy water all around him.

"Someone will suffer no matter what choice is made," he says, at last. "The people of Taravast. Rigarda. Myself. It is not an easy decision."

Wrathion meets Anduin's gaze easily, lets him move himself past the outburst. It matters little, in the end.

"I only meant to suggest," he says finally, "that you also need a plan for how you'd do any of this at all. That way you can also gather the information you need to enact it."

Disguise? Force? Sneaking in? Luring her out? If he had one in mind, he could also ask questions to help him form that plan. Wrathion is trying to help, not pass judgment on the choice.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Anduin feels a bone-deep weariness settle around himself. Wrathion is right, of course. He does need a plan... Is there even really a choice in the matter? He cannot blindly act on the Merchant's whims. What would he have done, in Rigarda's place? Perhaps not the exact same actions, to be certain. He would not have been able to live with himself knowing what he had done, the price he had paid. Yet he cannot fault her himself for wanting to spare her people suffering.

"I am told she is holding herself up in one of the smaller palaces of the gentry, with eight men at her guard," he says. He takes a few steps forward, pacing the length of the wall as he continues, "If I wish to take any action at all, then I must know whether I will have anyone at my back."

Eight men. Wrathion lets out a little hum of thought.

"If they're not magic users, we could handle that easily."

Since, of course, Wrathion has his back. It feels as if that should be obvious, without question, but the way Anduin says 'anyone' throws doubt on that. Better, he thinks, to gently draw attention to his position. There's no need to make a production out of it, but Anduin needs to understand he will support him. Just because he's not offering his opinion on the better choice here doesn't mean he won't help.

Anduin turns back to Wrathion -- he cannot seem to stand still, not when his mind is spinning in such circles as it is -- searching his face in response to his last words. He had been on the verge of a response before the implication had settled upon him.

We.

Because of course, it had not been clear to him that Wrathion would be on his side in this, given how reluctant he had been to offer up an opinion in the first. Will Wrathion trust the decision he makes? Will he think it foolish? If things should go wrong...

"I have been told they are not," Anduin replies, with a small frown. He hesitates for a moment, before continuing, "Are you certain you wish to involve yourself in this?"

"Of course," Wrathion replies easily. "I will support you, whatever your decision. The priority is for both of us to return to Azeroth, which means we must both survive."

So why would he leave Anduin's survival to chance, or the help of strangers?

No. He'll come with him, make sure they make it through. Between the two of them, he'd consider it a guaranteed success whatever Anduin chooses.

Anduin studies Wrathion's face for a long moment, considering Wrathion's words and their meaning. The fact that Wrathion will be there with him, no matter if he believes in what choice he has made or not, to help him see it through. It makes him feel a little foolish, but it also does help him feel better as well.

At last, he offers Wrathion a nod.

"I do not intend to place either of us in unnecessary danger," he offers, gently.

He does not need to point out that the key word in this phrase will always be intend.

"Of course, I didn't doubt that for a moment."

However tenuous their friendship is, currently, he knows Anduin would not accept his help only to let him come to harm. He simply isn't that kind of person.

Unfolding his arms Wrathion pushes off the wall again, straightens his coat.

"Let me know what you decide, and what you need from me."

Be it support, or... something more. Wrathion is quite happy to put himself forward for Anduin's sake, however is necessary.

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