westwhere | [ CLOSED ] Twisting, constricted

It is hard to offer an embrace to a small mortal when you are so very large, and he can feel the well of emotion building up in Hermione. It makes him wonder if this is the right thing to do -- he'd wanted to make her feel better not worse, but the way she thanks him suggests it isn't all bad. He unfurls one wing, gently stretches it out to lay around her a little like a blanket, then senses something -- ah. Anduin is here!

That is, in truth, good. Anduin is much better at handling sensitive things than he is.

He nudges Hermione gently with his nose, then lifts his head to study Anduin.

"Anduin," he intones, "Hermione is here for her duel."

She is not, but he's trying to lighten the mood. He's just having fun, he is allowed that much he thinks.

There's a wing and all, and this is her life right now. Even if she wanted to share this story with anyone back home, who'd believe her if she told them she once kind of, sort of, potentially cuddled a dragon?

She is nudged right on time to look up and find Anduin standing at the entrance to the cave, looking awkward and she - feels very guilty, even though she wasn't really doing anything untoward!

"Anduin - " she starts to say, and at that moment Wrathion intones Hermione is here for her duel, and she lets out a snort of laughter, and swats the big dumb dragon head away.

"Don't listen to him, I'm doing no such thing. Wrathion just likes to feel important." She gets up from her cushion quickly, because she's not going to cuddle up to the dragon now. Poor Anduin.

"I brought some stones from the temple," is her explanation, pointing to them.

For her duel.

Anduin makes something of a face at that. Honestly, Wrathion. Although the joke does make him feel better about whatever it is he's stumbled in on. Even if he still does feel as if he's interrupted either way, with how quickly Hermione has extracted herself.

He flashes a smile at her commentary, glancing aside at the dragon as he replies, "I'm certain it won't be the last we hear of it. Both of us deciding to marry ourselves off to him on the same night? He cannot help himself."

Anduin grows slightly more awkward at the mention of the stones, though.

"Yes, of course," he says, moving to set down his pack, deliberately avoiding the mention of having just toiled through the forest to fetch some himself. "That was very kind of you, Hermione. I see you've been redecorating as well?"

He nods towards the cushions they'd both been curled up on until a moment ago, with the twist of his lips.

"You doubt my importance?" Truly, how rude. He pushes to his feet, stretching out his front legs then his back as much as he can in the limited space. "The cushions are appreciated. The cave is lacking in comforts. You made it here unscathed?"

Anduin was not chased by anything? Did not find himself locked into any battle? The area is not, after all, safe -- and Anduin would brush off his own concerns until the last minute. Much easier to prompt him upfront.

That stretch though... Anduin is still getting used to Wrathion in this shape, and he is unable to help the way he is equal parts fascinated and bemused by the dragon's behavior for that matter as well.

He cannot help but smile softly at the question, shrugging slightly as he does.

"I was not followed," he replies. Which is not to say that he did not encounter some troubles on the way, but there is no real cause for worry.

It is not, perhaps, exactly answering the question Wrathion had asked. But he is here in one piece and he -- they -- are in no real immediate danger. This is equally important to point out. Right?

That's fine, because Hermione for her part can't help but stare in continued amusement as Wrathion stretches, her head tilted ust slightly. The men might have their own little conversation - she'll give them enough privacy for that - but there is something she can answer.

The redecorating.

"The cushions won't last forever, my transfiguration spells aren't as reliable here as they are in my world, but..." She turns her gaze to Anduin, amusement still pulling the corners of her lips into a smile. "He was sitting like an overgrown, extremely uncomfortable cat."

"I was sitting like a dragon," he corrects. A magnificent, powerful dragon! He steps closer to Anduin, partly to see if he can smell blood on him at all and partly to give him a gentle nudge in greeting. This close to Anduin's bag, he can sense the shrine pieces in it. His eyes are draw briefly to it, then back to Anduin, then to Hermione. "It is an enviable talent nonetheless."

Transfiguration. It seems a very useful skill, even when it isn't permanent.

Anduin reaches out a hand to rub against Wrathion's nose, flicking him a somewhat more private smile as the dragon glances down at his bag. Yes, those are rocks from the shrine in his bag as well. Yes, that is where he has just come from. No, he's not about to mention so out loud, as much for his own dignity as anything else. As far as whatever smells Wrathion might get off of him -- he has been fighting the animals in the forest, and they managed to get in a few good hits before he ultimately won those fights. But he's a healer. He's fine now. Really.

"It is," Anduin agrees, glancing back to Hermione and offering her his own smile. "I have been bringing over what I can -- but I don't think I could manage anything as impressive as that." He gestures to the bed-sized cushion -- dragon-sized? "Nor as comfortable."

She nods along to Wrathion's correction and adds: "Loafing like a displeased cat. A very big one, very dangerous." Spoken like someone who is trying to placate a dragon whose head is the size of her whole body while also being a smartass. She just needs Anduin to know that Wrathion was sitting like a cat, and that it was delightful.

"Ah, that's - " An awful lot of compliments coming from them both, and while the praise is more than welcome and all, she is also accustomed to brushing it off. It's nothing. Just a spot of transfiguration. "Well, hopefully they'll last enough for you to get some rest." To Anduin at least. Her expression, directly at the young man, screams is this awkward, should I leave, I should leave.

Wrathion lets out a low rumble of discontent (not unlike, in truth, a displeased cat) and turns back. Smoke swirls around him, flecked with sparks of gold, then shrinks down and dissipates to reveal his more familiar form. He just about manages to suppress a flinch, rolls his shoulders and takes a slow breath. For a moment he's eyes flit to the cave entrance, gauging if he can sense anyone approaching, then pacing back deeper into the space. He flops himself down on the large cushion, which turns out to be a mistake because it puts weight on his slowly healing arm briefly. His face twitches, but he lets out a sigh anyway and makes a show of enjoying himself.

"Well, I for one am happy to take advantage."

He's not about to ignore a comfortable cushion when it's offered. Still, he watches his two guests thoughtfully.

"The hosting potential of my current domicile unfortunately leaves much to be desired. The décor is, at least, improving, and I consider the company to be first class. However, I haven't much to offer you beyond leftovers and some water. My plum wine is long used up, I have no card sets to hand and Anduin has my jihui board back in the village. That lack of any of those rules out all the games I know."

Wrathion's business of draping himself back down onto the cushions, now that he has assumed his human visage once more, is really quite performative. Anduin raises an eyebrow at him, unable to help but wonder who this act is for -- but then again Hermione is looking rather uneasy, and that won't do either.

"If you want me to bring the jihui set next time, you can ask," Anduin says, pointedly, as he bends to dig in his bag. He pauses as a thought occurs to him and raises to flash Hermione a smile. "Perhaps we might teach you to play sometime! Speaking of duels. Has Wrathion ever explained the game to you?"

From the bag, Anduin produces a small packet of food and a container filled with drinking water. He raises an eyebrow back at Hermione as he does, as if to say, Stay?

Speaking of transfiguration, that happens. She watches him with undeniable curiosity, catching the first movement from the corner of her eyes, and decides it's different than Animagi transforming into their human form again.

It takes until he starts talking that she notices she was holding her breath, in all her being impressed by this display of magic. Luckily, before she can feel even a little bit embarrassed by staring, Wrathion starts drawling about having no entertainment here, and squashes the flutter to mild amusement.

She looks back towards Anduin in time for that glance to be caught. So - stay, it is.

She relaxes enough for her shoulders to drop.

"Is it anything like chess? Because I can tell you already I'm not very much a fan of wizarding chess - the figurines come to life when they're meant to take pieces and it just...gets violent."

And she's not good at it, which is the main reason she hates it. Hermione likes order and things that make sense, and it makes sense for her to be good at things.

The way Wrathion snorts instantly says that no, it isn't like chess.

"Anduin is a fan because it is a game with no winners or losers. It is a game of strategy, like chess, and there are different types of pieces -- ships, archers, cavalry, kites, knights, warriors, and warlords. The difference is you are meant to play until you are mutually satisfied. He taught me some years ago."

Despite his dismissive tone, Wrathion obviously kept a board and still plays -- so he clearly does enjoy it. Or perhaps, at the very least, enjoys the company that playing earns him.

Wrathion may be playing it cool, but he is the one who had carried a board around with himself often enough to have brought one with him into this world. Anduin can see right through this defensive posturing he is taking, and he is having none of it. Bringing the food and drink over to the transfigured cushioning where Wrathion is lounging, he carefully lowers himself down to take a seat beside him, setting his makeshift meal down and beginning to unpack it.

"It's based on pandaren philosophy," Anduin elaborates. "It is not unlike chess -- there is a way to play to win, eliminate all your opponents pieces from the board. But that is considered to be bad form. What is considered a true victory in jihui is to balance the other player to a standstill. When you meet each others' strengths and weaknesses... That is the greatest triumph of all."

So you see, it's a yin and yang thing, Hermione, and not completely innuendo like Wrathion makes it sound.

Edited 2022-04-24 17:19 (UTC)

Excuse her for a moment: a game where the end goal is to play until both players are mutually satisfied? "Do you play that often? The two of you." She can't even help the smirk she tosses Anduin's way, because they're of a similar age and mentality and she thinks (or hopes) that the innuendo will not be lost on the other human in the cave.

There is a third cushion - she did manage three, though one of them was enlarged to be big enough to fit a dragon Wrathion's size and right now swallows him up, looking more like an enormous bed. Den of eniquity right here.

She goes back to her cushion, since she's been invited to stay, and thinks that - if it comes to it - maybe for safety in numbers, later she can return with Anduin. And if Anduin wants to stay, well - she'll apparate again.

The smirking clues Wrathion in that he's missed something, and going back over his words he realises what. What a filthy mind Hermione Granger has, good to know. He adjusts himself to lounge a little more comfortably, weight more on his good arm, and lofts an eyebrow at her.

"It's a regular nightly activity for us."

Wrathion is quite curious how quickly Anduin will fluster. His money is on very quickly, based on past experience. His face will be scarlet in no time at all.

Yes, they are of a similar age and mentality. As such, the idea of jihui being a game that provides mutual satisfaction is... An innuendo lost on Anduin. But it's also something that is said of the game in general, so he can usually look beyond it.

He cannot look beyond that look on Hermione's face, however. And yes, his face does color slightly. He is just opening his mouth to give her an innocuous reply when Wrathion speaks instead.

A regular nightly activity, Wrathion? Anduin cuts him a look.

"As Wrathion has said," Anduin replies, the color in his face rising further, "jihui is my favorite game..."

They are doing this on purpose, aren't they.

The disappointment. The double entendre gets picked up by the dragon and not by Anduin? This is tragic. And she shouldn't be mean and carry on, but there's something so tempting about the fluster of red on Anduin's cheeks when he does notice and she says it before she can reconsider her words:

"It's a shame, it sounds like a game for two. I'd have to watch, I suppose."

And this part did not intend to sound so bloody suggestive, but the words are out there and she just knows Wrathion - if not also Anduin - will pick up on it, so she rushes to add: "To learn the rules."

Nailed it.

Ah, yes, this is all going about how he expected. Wrathion leans over to examine the food Anduin has brought with him, keeping his tone idle.

"Obviously we'd make an effort to include you," he tells her, "we'd take it in turns."

Makes perfect sense to him! It wouldn't be polite to exclude a guest.

Edited (posted early somehow) 2022-04-26 17:57 (UTC)

Anduin has been bringing food that he knows will travel well enough, and that Wrathion will enjoy. So far, it's been a lot of meat buns and dumplings, because they pack well. Today's options are no different, an assortment of rice balls, buns, and dumplings he's managed to charm out of his village contacts.

Anduin's face is a very pretty shade of pink now indeed as he sets the lot of it out in front of them. Take it in turns...

"Of course," Anduin agrees, as he fusses. "Wrathion and I both have different styles of play, after all. Ah, that is. The game is about balance. You'd understand the strategy much better if you learned from us both."

Light, why does everything suddenly sound like a suggestion?

It's a really good thing that she's not drinking or chewing anything, because that would've made her cough and choke on it. (Take that as you will.)

She is absolutely not going to team up with Wrathion in making Anduin's life difficult. Anymore.

"Maybe another time, then!" she pipes up, with a little smile that's meant to dispel whatever unease the literal priest of the Light was feeling there. "When we're not looking over out shoulders constantly - assuming we ever get that again." She darts a glance between the two of them and lets out a bittersweet laugh. "If I think about it hard enough, I think the last time I actually relaxed was the boat to Elletheia. How strange is that?"

Wrathion lounges out and selects a meat bun, taking a slow bite and enjoying it as he watches the two of them talk.

"Elletheia wasn't terrible, mirrors and various emergencies aside. At the lighthouse we had bathing facilities. The nights were a little unsettled, but there was no extended peril or suffering. The same cannot be said for here."

He's had quite enough of the sensation of being unsafe, that imminently something looming may undo them. Something he had no direct, concrete method of stopping.

Thank you for putting an end to that, Hermione. He may very well have spontaneously combusted before too much longer...

Anduin lets out a long, slow sigh, reaching for one of the rice balls himself, playing with it in his hands as he thinks.

"I keep hoping that we will find ourselves somewhere we might be able to... Relax," Anduin admits. "I get the feeling, however, that so long as the Merchant is the one directing our party it is unlikely to happen. He may claim to be leading us toward the beacons in this world, but. We would be foolish not to consider another motive besides. Especially given our little side trip into Ellethia."

They have been in this village for months, after all, and he certainly has not heard mention of any beacons himself, at least. Is that not the whole idea of why they would have been led here? The more troubles that arise, the less it seems worth staying in this village, truth be told.

It's fine, they can go from discussing the cursed game to discussing something serious. Hermione pulls a little face at the mention of the Merchant, and shakes her head. "Oh no, I don't trust him. I think he's keeping himself distant intentionally, and it's very clear that whatever happened in Elletheia, he is using us as pawns in his game, whether it's one for revenge or power. Or both."

She grimly picks up a little rice ball of her own, and takes a nibble out of it, pausing to chew and swallow. Digest the facts she just blurted out. Soften them, maybe, with this:

"I miss the baths in Taravast, to be honest." A pause, and she looks up at them both. "Although...you won't have been there long enough to use them, would you?" This is a grim enough conversation as it is, that Hermione tries to lighten it with something... Scrambles for it, and blurts out: "You know my supposed false identity there was expert modiste from abroad?"

Wrathion shoots Anduin a silent unreadable look, remembering their discussion about their positions in Taravast. His own, and how he came to accept it. Anduin's own. He takes another bite of his meat bun, shifting to sit up more, adjusting his position just enough that his arm brushes against Anduin's. A small amount of tangible support.

"A modiste," he repeats, curious. "I hope you were at least supplied with clothing to sell. Anduin was never assigned a secondary identity, that I recall. He came too late for that. I do wonder what they might have selected for him, given the chance. Perhaps a roguish gentleman of means engaged to more than one person, keeping them both strung along?"

Or is that him? He simply cannot keep up.

[ CLOSED ] Twisting, constricted

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i have no appropriate icons, life is hard

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