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

"Not as much as I'd like."

A lack of free time, and a lack of people to play with. Wrathion rarely travels for pleasure, and rarely has travelling companions beyond perhaps Left and Right. He matches the cautious advance, glances sideways at Anduin.

"Sometimes I set up the board and play against myself. Keeps my mind occupied."

A way to keep himself from forgetting the rules and to stretch his mind when entertainment opportunities are limited, or when he simply needs to distract himself and nothing else requires quite enough concentration to hold his attention.

Anduin can picture it. Wrathion sitting up late at night, perhaps, as they are doing now. Unable to sleep, thoughts and questions circling his mind, pulling out his board to redirect his attention elsewhere. Perhaps it is why he had suggested it for the pair of them tonight.

"Mmm," he hums, considering it. "I suppose that is reading, for me." He glances aside at Wrathion, uncertain whether he is making himself clear, so he elaborates, "When... I am in need of preoccupying my mind, that is. I have always turned to books. There is -- an abundance of them, in the keep."

He wonders how much Wrathion really knows about his home, in truth. He'd been there the once, but. It had not exactly been a social call.

"No doubt Stormwind has an extensive library. I've read my fair share of history books, theory on titan advances and so on. I cannot say it proves a... distraction."

Wrathion is usually reading for a purpose, investigating something or trying to understand a problem. The books he reads are all on the very topics he is looking into, and there is little reprieve in them. If anything, they can make his mind obsess further. Perhaps Anduin is choosing books on alternative topics? Or... fiction?

Fiction is popular, Wrathion is aware. He has not had time to read much.

"Sometimes it is good to turn your attention onto something less...immediate," Anduin points out, though he cannot say that he is surprised Wrathion is unfamiliar with the concept. Wrathion always seems so focused, and he supposes that he has reason to be, but he wonders now whether he really ever has had time to really relax. If their time together in Pandaria is perhaps the closest he ever truly came...

"Did you know, for instance," Anduin says, as he reaches to make his next move on the board, "that mageroyal is a common ingredient in both mana potions and chocolate cake?"

He blinks in surprise, then tilts his head in thought -- considering the game board.

"I was unaware it was in chocolate cake," he admits. He did know about the mana potions, however. "I see mages eating a lot of sweet food. I wonder if mageroyal as an active ingredient is part of the reason?"

Perhaps the driving force behind it all is mana, after all? That would make sense.

Anduin hums slightly, offering Wrathion a slight shrug as he does.

"The collection in the Stormwind library has any number of subjects to bury yourself in," he elaborates. "History of course, and everything a king is supposed to educate himself upon, but also. Herb lore. Beastiaries. Some of the most interesting narrative accounts that our adventurers have donated from their explorations, at that."

He reaches for his drink, playing with it in his fingers and turning to glance towards the fire.

"I suppose that I also... Go out riding," he elaborates, after a moment's thought. "It is very hard to think of little else than the immediate, once you are moving fast enough."

He glances sideways at Wrathion. "Do you find it the same for you? To fly, I mean?"

Wrathion considers that a long moment.

Flying can be dangerous, as a black dragon, if you're near settlements. As such, he rarely flies for pleasure -- mostly when needing to be somewhere with great speed, in an unpopulated area, or when escaping. When he was small, it was easy to do such things unseen. Now, less so.

That is not, however, the answer Anduin wants to hear just now.

"I wish I could fly more," he says honestly, "though I find I spend much of my time inside buildings of late. They tend not to be scaled to accommodate dragons."

Anduin's lips curl ruefully in response to that reply. "Of course," he replies, "I suppose that would rather limit things for you."

And being here, in this place. Not wishing for his true nature to be revealed. He supposes that Wrathion must not have had much opportunity to take his true form in some time. Not since his encounter with the Beastmaster, at least. Thinking back, that may have been the last time he had had the opportunity to fly, at that...

Anduin takes in a deep breath, letting it out long and slow.

"Perhaps I can can teach you," he says, after a moment's thought. He glances aside at Wrathion. "Riding, that is. I understand that you are perhaps... Not enamored with the practice, currently." His lips twitch again as he recalls again the image of Wrathion and the yak. "But maybe. You might learn to like it? As a poor alternative, of course."

"I'm not in need of tutoring," Wrathion protests, "I'm quite able to ride should the need come."

He isn't, necessarily, good at it but he technically can ride.

Still. He adjusts the himself to slump down sideways by Anduin, propping his chin up on one hand as he studies the board idly, trying to guess what move Anduin will make and what will be a good counter.

"However, I would accept some advice from a skilled expert."

Which Anduin appears to count as, in this instance.

A skilled expert.

Anduin cannot quite help the way his lips turn up at the sides at that, glancing sideways at Wrathion and moving to tuck his knees up towards his chest as he does. Just because it is an indirect compliment does not make it any less of one.

"I would be happy to give some," he replies, trying not to sound too amused. What is the difference between ‘advice’ and ‘tutoring’ anyway? Or is it that Wrathion’s ego simply cannot handle the thought that Anduin may, in fact, exceed him at some things.

"The next time we’ve got a mount to spare, perhaps."

For some advice.

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