westwhere | [ CLOSED ] Grief will have to wait.

Entry tags:

[ CLOSED ] Grief will have to wait.

WHO: Wrathion & fellow travellers
WHEN: Travel Arc!
WHERE: Mistress Isakanami's inn.
WHAT: A multi-prompt travel arc extravaganza! Check here for planning something custom, or he has an end of Serthica network post here or an open inbox!
WARNINGS: None at opening

Wrathion is exhausted.

So much as he is pleased to leave Serthica, so much as he is relieved to have had results there the whole experience has left him drained. The concept, then, of having some reprieve before they launch into more lengthy travel is... appealing, to a point.

It does, he assumes, mean staying somewhere else -- and based on their previous accommodation this may not necessarily be... pleasant.

Although it would be nice if it was.

The journey is long, but being flown there is at least pleasant initially. Far better than hiking, a wagon, or having to ride another creature. Then the weather begins to cool further, and Wrathion senses that they will not be relaxing in a tropical climate.

Snow. Of course.

The Merchant, at least, appear to have selected somewhere with pleasant-seeming facilities. They are, naturally, housed with the staff and expected to perform some minor tasks...

Still. If this place is devoid of any major problems, it does have potential. A hot springs in the mountains brings back fond memories, of a far flung place long ago. Of a time when he was young, before he felt the bitter sting of consequence.

It is also, so far, blessedly free of hozen.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The snow is cold.

Wrathion is sat in the steaming water staring up at the sky, contemplating if it will begin falling again any time soon. For the moment, they seem safe -- for a given value of safe.

Especially given they have ghostly company.

He sighs, lifts a hand to rub water over his face. His hair is tied back in a messy bun, trying to keep it from trailing in the water. If he wants to avoid it tangling, he'll need to do something about it later.

"I'm told the water here has restorative properties," Wrathion begins. "Perhaps no match for your own when it comes to injury, but you'll have to let me know if it does anything for your more well established aches and pains."

Worth a try, surely. Perhaps a cumulative effect, over several days, might prove worthwhile?

Assuming the ghost stays... passive. He turns to look at it again, red eyes narrowing in thought.

"... The head is not reassuring," he adds finally. Was it decapitated here, in the hot springs? That hardly bodes well for the two of them having a peaceful time here. The ghost vanishes again and Wrathion flits his eyes back to Anduin, lofts an eyebrow. His body language is relaxed, but then again it usually is. He's not pleased to be haunted while soaking naked, but if they're not being attacked he can tolerate it.

Edited 2022-12-08 23:38 (UTC)

Anduin sinks back into the water beside his companion, leaning against the natural rock bed of the hot springs and feeling the heat of the water slowly settling through his skin and into his bones. He has attempted to tie his own hair up as well, looping his ponytail around itself in an attempt to keep it out of the water, but honestly he doesn't really care.

It takes him a moment to will his eyes open again and follow the direction of Wrathion's narrowed eyes. Settling for a moment on the headless visitor before he vanishes completely, turning back to raise his eyebrows at Wrathion in return. There is a part of him that is somewhat alarmed by its presence. At the idea they might be joined -- watched? -- by such beings. For the most part they seem harmless though and really, Anduin is too tired at this point to care. The water is warm, and it does feel wonderful on his aching body. He would much rather enjoy this time with Wrathion then spend it worrying about their surroundings.

"Well, I think we are safe for now. I doubt that the water was the cause of his demise," Anduin offers, helpfully.

"They may have passed before the decapitation."

... Not, strictly, a cheerful thought but Wrathion cannot help himself. His mind is always whirring away, considering possibilities. This is, in fact, a possibility. Someone could be drowned in a hot springs and their head removed after.

He sinks down into the water a little further, trying to persuade himself to relax. Thinking about their headless visitor is not conducive to relaxation, as it turns out.

No, it isn't exactly the direction that Anduin had intended for Wrathion to go with that thought, and his smile softens at his companion. He knows better than anyone perhaps how difficult Wrathion finds it to simply turn it off, at times. When has he ever really had time for rest before? When was there not some new threat on the horizon to research and prepare himself for? Anduin understands this well. But as a healer he also understands the strain that such a lifestyle demands. It cannot be maintained indefinitely, something has to give.

Reaching out he moves to rest a hand on Wrathion's arm, warm underneath the water, squeezing gently.

"I have heard," he says, gently, "that the water from these springs is rumored to be able to relieve tension as well."

Wrathion's eyes flit sideways at the touch, warily skipping over Anduin then out over the water again.

To relieve tension.

His facial expression twitches, a faint tick of one muscle, then he sinks down another inch until his shoulders are completely submerged.

"Presumably the effect is not instant."

It isn't as if he wants to be on edge. Still, he can take a hint. Perhaps better to try and pack everything away, so that Anduin can at least relax himself. No need for Wrathion to drag them both down.

Anduin gently squeezes his fingers against Wrathion's arm once more and then lets him go. He understands that the touch may not entirely be helping, much as he might wish so otherwise. Nor might his calling attention to the fact that Wrathion is having trouble in the first place.

It is a delicate balancing act, with his companion. Even after knowing him for as long as he has, Anduin still feels as though he only gets it right half of the time. Still... He can tell that Wrathion's thoughts have been -- troubled, of late. If there is a way for him to help them settle, he'd at least like to try.

"Not instant, no," he allows. "I imagine that would be a very poor business model, for an inn." He settles down further into the water, shifting to lean into Wrathion's shoulder a little as he does. "I suspect the idea is that we're supposed to visit the springs at least more than once, for the bulk of its magical properties to take effect."

Wrathion twitches again as Anduin lets go and moves close, a suppressed wince playing across one side of his face as the man settles to lean into him. He feels... pitied. It's frustrating that the tangle of emotion is so... visible. That's the problem with these things, once they escape the box they simply never fit back in -- no matter which way he tries to turn and fold it all. It had always been easier to simply keep it packed away, to never let it free.

He's sure Anduin would disagree, would encourage him otherwise. The priest was always a problem, in that respect. Wrathion found it harder to control himself around him. He somehow managed to lure things out of him that he'd never felt before, that he struggled to categorise and deal with, and that was...

Terrifying.

He forces himself to breathe, slow and steady. To shift enough that his weight is comfortably against the walls of the hot springs, try to ease the tension out of his limbs little by little.

His heart is pounding regardless, but the tension does begin to lessen once he gets more comfortable.

"Well, given we're to remain here a month there is still time for that."

The words come out smoothly despite his lingering tension, and that helps. It helps to at least have some control over this, to feel as if he is still able to be himself.

Anduin can't help but notice the way that Wrathion twitches, in response to his touch. Catching the flash of a wince across his face, there and gone again, as he leans against him. He's trying, he's really trying to be gentle with him. Understanding. Not to push too hard, too fast, even if he knows, he can see the strain in his companion.

Obviously he isn't getting it right. Maybe he's being too gentle? Too understanding? Maybe he's given Wrathion too much time, too much space. Or has he not given him enough?

Anduin wishes that Wrathion had a manual he could read on what to do, in moments like these. Shutting his eyes, he leans his head back against the rock wall behind himself and lets out a slow breath of a sigh.

"A month," he echoes softly. "Before the Merchant sends us off to our next destination, no doubt."

"In search of another beacon with which to find our way home."

Likely as not another city with some hidden crisis, some connection to the undead legions, some problem to be solved.

That appears to be the pattern, at any rate.

He slips a hand out of the water and runs it over his face, trying to reduce the chill biting at his exposed skin.

"I do wonder if we'll run into the Huntress or her son again."

Given both of them are still alive, both of them vanished away somewhere. Could he have said something to to the child to change that? Was there a way at all to undo what had been done to it? For that matter, would they ever meet this White Wanderer in person -- and what would they learn if they did?

Her son. The child, rescued from the volcano in Ke-Waihu.

A frown draws across Anduin's brows and he opens his eyes to peer up into the pale grey sky above them. Thoughts swimming around his head as he does, none of them particularly pleasant.

"I wonder if they are still together," he says, at last. "The child and the White Wanderer. It did not seem as though the boy was particularly pleased with his 'friend', toward the end of our stay there."

Anduin cannot say that he is particularly pleased himself. Perhaps the man did rescue the child from the volcano. But -- there is no denying that he was using him. To what purposes, he cannot say for certain, but it was clear to Anduin that his motives were not selfless where the boy was concerned.

"I'm not certain," Wrathion admits. "The boy's memories and concept of what was going on appeared hazy. He claimed the White Wanderer had left him, but equally later discussed speaking to his friend. I'm not sure if they have some link, some method of long distance communication, or if the White Wanderer did return there."

He frowns in thought, considering this. The White Wanderer was clearly the key to this whole mystery, but finding him might not resolve it. They still had too many missing pieces. What exactly happened in Ellethia? Was he the figure they expected him to be? Was any of this purposeful, or was it all out of control? How, for that matter, could they stop him? Was he giving the powers to these people, or was this all happening around him?

Everything he learns seems to raise more questions.

"It would not be impossible," Anduin reasons. "We were given the means to do so ourselves, as soon as we set foot in this land."

As for the boy's confusion... Anduin can't say whether that should mean anything or not. If the White Wanderer, his so-called friend and sole-caregiver, has done nothing but feed him lies for years...

He can't say that it's a pleasant thought. It certainly isn't helping him relax, and he sincerely doubts that Wrathion finds it relaxing either.

Leaning his head back against the rock wall of the spring, he studies his companion for a long moment.

"It has been," he offers at last, "a very long time since I was last afforded this much time to myself." In truth, he wonders whether Wrathion has ever been allowed a moment's peace, or whether he has always been balanced between one plot or another.

Time to himself?

It isn't quite time to himself, though. Wrathion is here, keeping the conversation on all the topics but relaxing ones. He glances sideways at Anduin, studying the way he leans back.

"Then perhaps there is some good to this," he offers. "If you find the hot springs here enjoyable."

You know. Minus the ghost carrying its own head, and the ghosts apparently inside the actual building. Minus all that, perhaps if the actual hot springs are enjoyable then the experience is worth it.

"I do," Anduin says, offering his companion another smile. He can see that Wrathion is trying. He is trying likely more for his sake than his own and he supposes... That will do, if the end result is the same.

"I think perhaps because it reminds me of the Tavern in the Mists," he continues, turning to glance back across over the water. "Not -- everything, of course." There had been no headless ghosts there, and this is no Pandaria, but. There are similar elements. "The hot springs," he elaborates. "The inn and its assortment of visitors passing through." Another wry smile twists itself across his features. "You. Perhaps we might make ourselves some tea and dust off your juhui set later to further complete the comparison."

Ah. Wrathion considers that, expression softening.

"I don't see why not," he allows. In fact, he'd like that very much -- but no need to overplay matters. Wrathion lifts a hand to rub warm water over his face and neck again, then casually drapes an arm along the back of the rock wall behind Anduin. This, he realises quickly, is likely a mistake given the gusts of cold air -- but he's committed now.

"You might hire an armed guard to stare at me while we play, if we desire to fully revitalise the mood."

He remembers that part quite well.

The air may be cold but Wrathion's body is warm. Anduin can feel the heat radiating off of him, even over the heat of the water, as he shifts to drape his arm across the wall behind him.

The mention of the guard earns Wrathion another twist of a smile. Yes, he remembers the guards as well. Their distrust of Wrathion. His own chafing against them. It's amusing now, given the distance. His freedom. He cannot remember the last time he has gone this long without at least one member of SI:7 lurking in the shadows nearby.

"Perhaps we can leave off with that part of the recreation," he replies. "As well as the part where I was recovering from a near-death. I think we could both do without either experience, this time around."

"I do prefer you intact."

Both of them could do without worrying about the other for a while. Wrathion lets his eyes slip closed settling himself better and letting out a slow breath.

"I was hoping the waters here might ease your aches, however. Are they helping?"

They were promised healing properties, after all. Wrathion hadn't expected a miracle, but you can never be sure. Besides which, even the smallest easing of pain is something to be celebrated.

Anduin smiles softly in response to the question and Wrathion's honest concern.

Are they helping? He takes a moment to pause and consider how he feels. He isn't expecting miracles himself either. If the Prophet Velen had not been able to heal him completely, then he doubts the waters of these springs will be able to. However...

Anduin flexes a hand underneath the water, gathering his fingers into a tight fist and then spreading them out wide.

"They're helping," he agrees. "I can't tell you whether they truly do have any magical effects, or if it is simply the hot water working magic of its own, but. For the moment anyway, I feel -- good." He turns to flash his companion a soft smile. "It would be nice if their effects were to linger even after we exit the pools, though. The cold air in this place can be... Biting."

"MMmmmn."

He had noticed it was cold. Wrathion opens his eyes halfway, turns to consider Anduin.

"You had told me heat helped before, so I imagine that is part of it."

Does that mean stepping back out into the cold immediately after might undo all the good the warmth has done? He hopes not.

"If the cold air does more harm than good, we can stay inside in the future."

Wrathion doesn't like the cold anyway, so there's no hardship for him. Little point, he thinks in relaxing Anduin here only to tense him up on the walk back through the cold air.

Anduin considers this suggestion, and Wrathion. The way he is watching him, through half-open eyes, and the arm he has still slung across the rock wall behind Anduin's head.

The way he is factoring himself into caring for Anduin's well-being.

Anduin shifts ever-so-slightly, so his head is resting against the warmth of Wrathion's upper arm.

"I will admit, I do not find myself all that driven to spend my days out of doors in the snow," he agrees. "But I'm sure there are a number of other ways we can find to entertain ourselves inside."

"Beyond jihui?" Wrathion prompts, gaze sliding around the area thoughtfully. There's nobody to see, however, so he lets his arm curl better around Anduin's shoulders. "We could see if the inn has any interesting reading materials."

Books, newspapers, magazines -- anything to pass the time. They haven't tired of each other's company so far, so even if the options are dire he's hoping they can indeed still entertain themselves.

"I'd like that," Anduin says softly. They've spoken about this before -- what seems like ages ago now. Anduin's love of reading. Wrathion's love of boardgames. It would be nice, to be able to get some time to simply indulge themselves here, together. Not having to worry about where they're going next or what threat might greet them there.

Leaning into Wrathion's arm around him, he turns to him and offers him the tiniest curve of a smile.

"Feeling more relaxed?" he asks. He knows he's pushing, ever-so-slightly, but he's okay with that if it manages to work. He'd do just about anything to chase away the shadows in his companion's eyes and the dreams that haunt him at night.

Hmph. Wrathion glances sideways at Anduin, expression pinching a little at the reminder of his tension. Of the headless ghost, the stress of Serthica, everything he'd been processing.

"The water is pleasant."

He can agree the heat is nice, even if he could do without the snow. He doesn't know, strictly, if he feels more relaxed -- but his mind was distracted from things for a few minutes. Does that count?

Anduin understands from the tightness in Wrathion's eyes at that response that pushing isn't going to work. No matter how much he might want for Wrathion to open up to him, it must happen in his own time. Especially when it comes to -- anything personal, really. And Anduin understands that this is personal, for Wrathion. The struggles he is going through, has been going through, since Serthica.

If Wrathion needs him to back off, to talk about jihui and reminisce about their time together in Pandaria, then he will. Anything to help him feel more himself. Anduin really would do anything for him. It is that thought that forces him to settle back down, tucking his head into the crook of Wrathion's shoulder.

"Yes, it is," he agrees. "As is the company."

He glances around hesitantly again, but there's nobody to see them. Nobody to notice their casual intimacy. Wrathion tightens his arm a little around Anduin, letting out a slow breath as he absorbs the contact.

"I do understand I haven't been the best company."

Anduin is flattering him by saying otherwise. He's not so delusional he thinks he's been a delight to be with through all this. Hopefully the worst of it is behind them, but Wrathion has no idea where the Merchant plans to take them next. It could be back to Serthica for all he knows.

Anduin → Outdoor Hot Springs

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject