theladyofwinterfell | 001 the mage and the priest

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anduin wrynn,
psl

001 the mage and the priest

Sansa has been Khadgar's apprentice long enough to know that when he asks something of her, she ought to go along with it and only ask a handful of questions. The last time she trusted him blindly she'd wound up in Karazhan for the better part of two days trying to purge out demons and any number of spiders (she hates spiders) but not trusting the head of the Council of Six means missing out on a great bit of adventure. She's far enough into her training that he trusts her judgment, more or less, and has exposed her to some of Azeroth's politics instead of keeping her sheltered within Dalaran.

Today, he's asked for her to port to Stormwind on behalf of the Kirin Tor to have an audience with the king. The last time Sansa had been in Stormwind, King Varian had been the king and Gilneas hadn't joined the Alliance. Her people at Winterfell were on friendly terms with the Gilneans, naturally, but only for proximity's sake and because of their great affinity for wolves. Winterfell's since been overrun by Sylvanas and her Forsaken and Genn Greymane stands alongside the new king of Stormwind: Anduin Wrynn.

Everything Sansa knows about Anduin could fill a thimble. She knows he's young, only about her age, and she knows he lost his father recently. She can commiserate there, having lost both her parents when the Forsaken attacked and she doesn't wish that loneliness on anyone. The things she doesn't know about Anduin, though, she's soon to find out.

They port into the mage's tower in Stormwind and make their way to the castle, up a long bank of stairs carpeted with the blue and gold of the southern kingdom. It's all very lovely - stately lions, soldiers in polished helms. The king himself, though. Well. Sansa hadn't expected him to be quite so handsome. This is the first time Khadgar wants her to lead a diplomacy mission? Really? She dips into a curtsy in front of the throne.

"Greetings, your highness. I come to you on behalf of Khadgar of the Kirin Tor to discuss the current war effort in the Broken Isles. Will you grant me an audience? Stormwind has ever been a patron of the Kirin Tor and an ally of Dalaran."

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There is a tiny part of him as Khadgar's apprentice stands before him requesting audience, that fully believes that the Archmage was branching his meddling out and dipping his hand into The game of match making. Perhaps it was how he repaid the King's own gentle nudges to make the Archmage happy.

Honestly though, he can't help but smile at the girl who seems to think she needed to request an audience though. It was a breath of air that Anduin had yet to decide on if he's particularly keen on or not, but she seemed so... Sincere and he had her that she had previously been a daughter of Nobles within Genn's court.

"Khadgar hadn't told me he was sending his apprentice," he finally says, pushing up from his throne and stepping down the few steps with his hands clasped behind him. "I'm sure you're more than competent if he trusts you to come in his steed. What's your name? I like to know the names of those who I'm to trust."

"Sansa, my king," Sansa offers him. As a mage of Dalaran and, particularly, as an apprentice of the Archmage, she's had audiences with leaders before but never when she was expected to carry on the conversation - Khadgar had always been there before now.

"He wants to talk about shoring up the defenses at the Broken Shore and wants to know if Stormwind will lend men to guard the Tomb of Sargeras. What shall I tell him?"

The newly minted king watched the woman carefully and he couldn't help but smile at how formal she was. Sansa. He would need to remember that.

"Come, it'll be better if we talk in the War Room."

Less someone unsavoury would be listening, though he knew the answer to her request already.

"Call me Anduin, I'm not used to the idea that there is supposed to be a 'king' prefix yet. It sounds a bit silly, don't you think?"

"You are a king. And before that, you were a prince, and I'm just Khadgar's Apprentice. If you really want me to just call you Anduin, I will, but I'm not going to do it in front of those surly Royal Guards. They might decide I look a little too much like a threat."

Still, she laughs a little, and it isn't forced. She does relax some when he insists she can call him by name. It makes everything easier. "All right, Anduin. I'll honor your request."

"I may be king, but so was my father. It's... A little strange to hear it and know that it no longer is in reference to him."

But her worry did not go unconsidered and glanced at her with a teasing smile as he lead her away from the throne room.

"More reason to get into somewhere they can't hover, now isn't it?"

The boy couldn't help his cheeky smile, though he toned it down as they reached the war room and he waved everyone out - including the guards who mumbled something of how Greymane going to kill them should it get back to him. They still left, though Anduin was sure that two were posted outside the door as he shut it.

"Now, you are here to talk about requiring more troops for the Broken Shore efforts, yes? Do you think it would be wrong to want to see exactly how bad things are before sending them? I wouldn't know much. It's fallen to Genn to distribute the troops as I both have no experience with this and I am.. ah, still reeling from the loss of my father."

Edited 2017-10-24 02:28 (UTC)

"I don't know if it would be wise to take a king to the front. If you got injured, what would I do? It would be catastrophic." Sansa has been to the front many times by now, though not without Khadgar's blessing, and she's seen things that would make anyone run to the nearest Church of the Light and pray for hours on end.

"You put me in an impossible position, Anduin."

"My father was on the frontlines, if you remember," Anduin muttered as his brows furrowed and lips pursed together in a tight line. "I need to see it -- where he fell. I was asking if you were willing to join me... Genn wouldn't have half the issue if I were accompanied by someone."

“I would be happy to escort you,” Sansa promises. “It would be an honor to protect the King of Stormwind.”

She grins at him. “When King Genn decides I’m no longer Gilnean for getting you into trouble will you let me be your subject?”

"With all due respect, Sansa," Anduin started, leaning towards her with a conspiratorial wink, "I technically out rank Genn already. You'll be fine, you're more than welcome to become one of my advisors. I'm sure Genn would love it too." The blond teased, though nodded as he gestured for her to follow him. "Speaking of-- I simply cannot go looking like the King of Stormwind. I need a disguise, care to help me find one?"

Sansa tries not to react to being teased by the king of the entire Alliance and takes in a deep breath. She can manage to create an illusion good enough that most people (read: not Khadgar) will not be able to see through and it will save them some time in the long run. She lifts her hands and whispers a spell, Arcane magic weaving around them both.

"You just look like a priest to me. I don't know who the King of Stormwind is." Sansa leans in and pushes back a strand of his hair, trying to get it to work within the illusion she's created. It seems some things aren't so easily tamed.

"Oh! This is much simpler than what I was going to do," Anduin murmurs, looking down at himself in mild wonder. "I was just going to borrow some of Genn's clothing."

The mage's hand reaching out to brush back some of his hair causes him to pause and look down sheepishly. "My hair is... It's rather untamable like this... My father's was the same way." His cheeks colored lightly before he carefully moves to cup her hand with his own to bring it away from his red face.

"Shall we, Lady Sansa?"

Sansa wants to protest that she's no lady but this is the King of Stormwind who's calling her such and she doesn't think she's in a place to refuse. She blushes when he takes her hand in his to pull it away. Light, what had she been thinking, reaching out to touch the king like that?

"Yes, let's go. I'll make a portal now, if you don't mind traveling that way? It's the most efficient even if it's a bit disorienting for those of us who aren't mages."

"Disorienting?" He questioned, though nodded slowly. He hadn't known it left a lasting effect on the mages who conjured it. Though, it did explain Khadgar a bit, he supposed. "You'll have to tell me more about that."

"Later, my king," Sansa says. She casts the portal and holds his hand to pull him through. The scent of fel is in her nose as soon as they step foot on the Broken Shore and she's ported just below where the Kirin Tor have their camp set up.

"I didn't port into the main camp," she says softly. "I thought you might want to do some things unnoticed before going and making yourself known to the Archmage. Am I right?"

"In all honesty, Lady Sansa, I'm less concerned of Khadgar finding me than I am of Genn." But he was happy she chose to not port him directly to Dilverance Point. He took in the resolute island before him, the broken shore where his father fell. It was not what he pictured, really... But it was fitting in a way for this to be where his father had died.

"Do you know where exactly he died? I want to go there...."

"I know where he fell," Sansa says quietly. "I was there with some other mages, he took up the charge so we could start porting people away and save the rest. He was very brave, King Varian. It's still a...dangerous place but I can shield us some. Do you promise to be careful, my king?"

Sansa couldn't bear it if he got hurt on her watch.

Sansa's worry over his wellbeing was charming and rather sweet, though he knew he could not promise that in the least. The Broken Shore was a dangerous place and he was there to mourn the dead. To find his direction as King.

"I can't promise that," he says, brows furrowed, "you and I both know that this will be dangerous even if I were surrounded by guards."

Sansa sighs a little and nods. “I know but I cannot have your death on me. I can’t. Please promise me that you’ll let me protect you if it comes to battle? Even if it’s hopeless for you to promise it, will you do it anyway?”

Sansa reaches out and touches his hand lightly. It’s an overstep and she shouldn’t but she has to let him know how grave this is to her.

Anduin wanted to protest, say that he could protect himself and moreso -- heal them both should they get hurt, but he thought better of it and instead took the hand touching his own and lifting it to his mouse to gently kiss her knuckles once. He froze, turned red and promptly laughed awkwardly.

"Yes, of course. Ahaha... How could I say no?"

Smooth, real smooth.

Sansa hadn't entirely expected to have her hand kissed by the king of Stormwind and it takes a moment to move again, her cheeks redder than her hair. She nods once and leads him forth to the spot where Varian Wrynn fell. It still sees fighting from time to time but for now, it's fairly quiet.

"We try not to come here much," she whispers. "There's skirmishes sometimes but it seems...haunted, a bit."

He stands in front of the place where his father fell, heart in his throat as the world falls away around him. He takes a step forward, then another and another and finally he drops to his knees where he, Varian, his father and the High King of the Alliance took his last breath. Said his last words and the Light tells him that no matter what anyone says, his father was a king to the end -- that he did not falter faced with his death.

Anduin feels the anxiousness rise to the back of his throat that he has been having since he had learnt of his death. He cannot measure up to his father or grandfather, he is no warrior. He strives for peace, but he knows now -- knows from his father's letter and his own deductions, that peace comes at a heavy price. There is no one action that would let peace become eternal and everlasting, one had to be willing to fight for it.

Was he willing?

He wasn't sure, he has large shoes to fill and feels like he's drowning. Where is his direction?

"Anduin," he hears, voice from the Light and he ghosts his fingers through the dirt to find the gleam of shalamayne waiting for him. "You know what you must do."

Does he though? He grabs the hilt and heaves it completely free, slowly getting to his feet as he hears what he swears is his father's exasperated laugh and Anduin feels like his chest constricts.

"And what should I know to do, Father? I am not you, I am no great hero."

"What a King must do. As I have, as I know you will."

The words shake his bones and he knows that the words are only the echos of his father. But they are him. Shalamayne throbs in his hand and he finally opens his eyes to the grey-green surroundings of Wrynnfall. He knows what he must do. The fire burning within the hole of the blade ignites, burn brightly as if it never went out.

"Sansa," Anduin finally directs to her, turning toward her, "when it comes time, will you help me get to Argus? I owe Velen a great many things -- but I need to see what will become of Azeroth should we not make any headway."

It's a weighty request, to be asked by the king of the entire Alliance to aid him in going to where the fighting is thickest. And yet, Sansa cannot refuse her king. She finds herself nodding slowly, agreeing to his request even though it doesn't seem prudent at all.

"Yes, my king. I will take you to Argus myself, if I must, and I will fight alongside you. I won't let anything happen to you. I swear it, all right? I swear it."

As she swears to protect him, Anduin cracks a half smile and shakes his head fondly. She said what he needed to hear and that's more than enough to let it slide. He should be protecting her, really. But he begins to walk forwards, showing her what he had found more clearly.

"We should return to Stormwind soon, I fear Genn may have a stroke should I linger here too long. Tell me, do you think he may actually be in danger of a stroke? I've never seen him relax -- even during the campaign during Draenor."

He's honestly a bit worried for the man's health and cannot find any apology within him for the situation he's in right then, but he knows that Genn would understand. Eventually.

"That being said... Could we stop at Dalaran first? I've never actually been there and it's much safer than here." He paused, cheeks turning red as he continued, "I actually haven't eaten anything since lunch the day before and well, I'd like you to join me if you're able... And willing to accept such a small thing as my thanks for what you've done today."

"If you haven't eaten, I could conjure something," Sansa says, suddenly embarrassed she hadn't thought to look to her king's needs. "But I would be happy to take you to Dalaran. Still disguised, of course. I wouldn't want to cause any trouble."

Sansa doesn't think it's a good idea to let the King of Stormwind go around in Dalaran just as himself, especially if he wants a normal experience.

"We could go and have a meal at A Hero's Welcome? That's the tavern I favor in Dalaran."

Anduin in a breath as Sansa seems to become embarrassed by her lack of mind reading ability, a brow lifting before he shakes his head fondly and nods along with what she was saying. A dinner at an inn sounds wonderful, though they'd have to be sure to avoid all Worgen if possible. He was beginning to think that all Gilneans had a chatty mouth when their king is in need of aid rounding up the High King of the Alliance.

"Don't worry, I don't plan on lingering more than a few more hours. I actually fear or Genn's health if my father's reaction to me wandering off on Pandaria was any indication of how an over-protective Father-figure with justifiable reasons may react." He smiles at her, brows lifting in his humor.

"I've never actually had anything conjured by magic," he finally admits, knowing how strange that sounded when he was so close to Jaina before she left. "Could we perhaps do both? I'd like to try it. And... Maybe, Sansa... You could be a little more familiar with me. I am your king, but I'd rather be a friend first."

Sansa is a little shocked he wants her to be familiar with him but if this is what her king wants, it's what her king will get. He must be lonely, she thinks, since he has no one of his own age that is a true peer. She can do this even if it feels strange to her to be so informal with the High King of the Alliance.

"All right, Anduin, you're going to have to forgive me if I forget to call you that. It's hard to undo all that training," Sansa warns him.

As to food, she can conjure strudel and water with the best of them. She does that, creating a little pile of cakes and a few skins of water for them to eat.

"Go ahead, try it. I've heard my strudel tastes like lemon but I don't eat it all that often myself. Even mages get tired of conjuring food."

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001 the mage and the priest

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