Anduin Wrynn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chosenbylight) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2022-12-10 04:53 pm
chosenbylight) wrote in westwhere2022-12-10 04:53 pm
They build wooden houses on frozen ponds
WHO: Anduin & Others
WHEN: Travel arc!
WHERE: Mistress Isakanami's inn
WHAT: Starters for Anduin during the event! Plot with me here and I'll put together a starter for you too, and/or feel free to hit up Anduin's IC inbox!
WARNINGS: None from the start
It has been a long few months, in Serthica.
If Anduin is being honest with himself, the exhaustion had probably started to set in even before they had set foot in that city. On the boat on the journey over perhaps? When he had fired one too many arrows into the sky and knocked himself out for a solid three days. Or had that been the final straw? Was it before then, in Ke-Waihu? As he had fought to save the village from destruction. Children from sacrifice. Or was it in Ellethia before? Saving that ship from the rocks, and Zenobius from the collapse of the tower's magic. Even in Taravast, he had fought to save Donna Rigarda. For better or worse.
Again, and again, and again. Fighting for others. Sometimes winning the battle, sometimes not. Fighting for his own life. Risking it for others. Anduin isn't certain he knows how to turn it off, but he's... Tired.
They have succeeded in this last attempt and saved the city, but there had been a high chance they might not, and -- it was that thought that had spurred him on. Beyond his exhaustion, beyond his limits. Wrathion had reminded him of how Arthas Menethil culled the plague in Stratholme, and he would not, could not allow such loss to happen on his watch. Not when there had been something he could do about it. But now.
Here they are, in this quiet place of relaxation. And he is trying, he really is trying to take it easy. But he can't help but wonder...
What next?
WHEN: Travel arc!
WHERE: Mistress Isakanami's inn
WHAT: Starters for Anduin during the event! Plot with me here and I'll put together a starter for you too, and/or feel free to hit up Anduin's IC inbox!
WARNINGS: None from the start
It has been a long few months, in Serthica.
If Anduin is being honest with himself, the exhaustion had probably started to set in even before they had set foot in that city. On the boat on the journey over perhaps? When he had fired one too many arrows into the sky and knocked himself out for a solid three days. Or had that been the final straw? Was it before then, in Ke-Waihu? As he had fought to save the village from destruction. Children from sacrifice. Or was it in Ellethia before? Saving that ship from the rocks, and Zenobius from the collapse of the tower's magic. Even in Taravast, he had fought to save Donna Rigarda. For better or worse.
Again, and again, and again. Fighting for others. Sometimes winning the battle, sometimes not. Fighting for his own life. Risking it for others. Anduin isn't certain he knows how to turn it off, but he's... Tired.
They have succeeded in this last attempt and saved the city, but there had been a high chance they might not, and -- it was that thought that had spurred him on. Beyond his exhaustion, beyond his limits. Wrathion had reminded him of how Arthas Menethil culled the plague in Stratholme, and he would not, could not allow such loss to happen on his watch. Not when there had been something he could do about it. But now.
Here they are, in this quiet place of relaxation. And he is trying, he really is trying to take it easy. But he can't help but wonder...
What next?
WANGJI ❅ the wells
Anduin has been trying (and failing) not to be concerned by it for the past week, really. Having recently developed the habit of taking walks when the snow is not falling too hard, he has also developed the habit of stopping at the wells. He tells himself it doesn't count as an investigation or a break from his relaxation if he does nothing more than look.
The fact that the blood lingers in his thoughts even after he leaves says otherwise.
Anduin stands over the latest splattering of it, frowning. Telling himself he should just move along. The roil of unease in his gut keeping him firmly in place.
no subject
( Then, there is Lan Wangji, the Heavens' most ambitiously indifferent creature, balancing a wealth of dew turning gelid and crystalline as it trickles down his back in morning beads under the starting snow.
And two buckets, rusted, slow, ancient in their service of water bearing.
And his sword Bichen, magnanimously unfettered from her sheath.
And a gaggle of inn keepers, who swarm and storm him in various degrees of outrage, stupefaction, terror and resignation, shouting as Lan Wangji approaches the barred, blooded well.
'We don't take water from there today, young man! Come back!' )
Unnecessary. ( 'I'm telling you, the kitchens won't have it! )
Ease yourself. ( 'The other two, just look, the water's clear there, aren't two other wells enough? Is your belly so bottomless, you'll drink two wells out of their waters? What's next, the lake?' )
Respectfully decline. ( 'Must we be so greedy, when the gods already give?' )
The well remains for taking. ( 'These grounds already generously receive us, shouldn't we concede on this one matter?' )
You bar path. ( 'There is no path, the well is blocked.' )
Appears open. ( 'Young man! Any sight-seeing man can tell just cut through the rope that was set down before it.' )
Bring witness. ( 'You have your sword out!' )
And pails. For water. ( 'Wait, won't you stop to talk things over properly? Who raised you to ignore your elders?'
...suffice to say, Lan Wangji has a purpose, the blooded well has water, and a school of hair-pulling servants don't deter his progress.
Enjoy the parade, Anduin. )
no subject
...he will admit, he's not entirely certain why he is intent on taking water from this particular well, given the blood. It seems something of an ill omen. But Lan Wangji also seems the sort of person who does not bide by that sort of a thing, he supposes.]
Lan Wangji.
[Anduin nods to the man, glancing between the buckets, the sword, and the gaggle of servants then back at the man once more.]
You... Wish to draw water from this well? [A careful question, even if the answer is likely obvious.]