[He says it a bit dryly, the way he often remarks on things Anduin does that he does not agree with. He isn't quite so bold as to remark directly - after all, it had only been a few weeks prior that he had been given some measure of forgiveness by the king. He is not unaware of his own hypocrisy, in that regard.
He takes the cup as it is offered to him, shifting just a bit in his seat. If he had not seen Anduin recover from the bell, he might have been more bewildered by his recovery.]
You look better.
[A mild change of subject. He can feel something creeping up the back of his throat, thinking of Ramir and forgiveness in the same breath.]
Anders and Khadgar both had potions to help things along considerably, and simple bedrest took care of most of the rest.
[ All said very matter-of-fact. The shakiness from the night of the attack is nowhere to be seen, and he seems just as sturdy as ever, calmly sipping his own tea as he moves to sit across from the dragon. ]
[Wrathion studies Anduin's reaction, brows knitting at the mention of Khadgar in particular. He'd gotten quite practiced at lying -- or he was simply telling the truth. The dragon cannot decide, and so he takes a sip of his tea before making his first move.]
All that bedrest in between all of those visitors.
[He's not buying it. But a smooth smile that follows the comment suggests that whatever answer he was waiting for was given with that reply.]
How is our dear friend, the Archmage? I have not seen very much of him in recent weeks.
[Another sip of tea. He ignores commenting specifically on the latter comment, though he does not bother to disguise the flat expression that comes over his face.
After all, he did not particularly have compassion for everyone in the city -- just a few. And what happened to them was more important than what happened to everyone else.]
The subject of death and it's impermanence here speaks to something sinister. But honestly, you'd have an easier time picking out things here that don't.
[ He sits back, waiting. Fingers tracing the edge of his tea cup. ]
Even if I had died during the attack, they would have likely found a way to bring me back. I doubt it's in any way I would care to experience first-hand.
[Wrathion leans forward to move his next piece, eyes dropping to the board. It is a good excuse not to reveal his feelings about the impermanence of death -- or Anduin's potential death at the hands of Hellboy in particular.
Unfortunately, he cannot quite keep his mouth shut, so much as he is able to school his expression.]
The difference, in your case -- [Said like he does not believe there is one.] -- may as well be negligible.
[Now Wrathion sits back and crosses his arms. Anduin was ready to die for so many people, things, and ideas. The concept is, indeed, a hard sell. Watching a human, particularly a human who was meant to be important to a great amount of people, casually throw his life around...
[Wrathion does not even wait to make his next move -- there is no thought put into it. He simply reaches forward and makes the most obvious choice. The candy cane is pulled back out of his mouth.]
It is difficult not to be frustrated when you say things like that.
[It is a small correction.]
Particularly when alternative paths are open to you.
[Wrathion stays leaned back in his chair, fixing Anduin with the most unimpressed stare he can manage. Then, abruptly, he smiles. It is thin.]
There is no need to be coy, your majesty.
[Now he leans forward to slowly slide a piece across the board. It is almost daring, and he makes sure to use his already injured arm. No reason to incapacitate himself over something so petty.]
[ He's specifically mad because he doesn't want to see you get hurt, right?
Ramir's voice surfaces in the back of his mind, unbidden, and Anduin lets out a quiet sigh before moving one of his pieces to meet Wrathion's in the middle. ]
No. I understand your meaning. And my frustration is with the situation, and not you.
[His jaw says otherwise, even as he lifts a hand to rub one hand there to stave off the memory. He takes the opportunity to take the piece Anduin had just opted to move.
For all lessons he'd learned, he's still playing to win -- a little.]
Has he contacted you yet? Hellboy.
[He knows his name, which is undoubtedly a sign that he is paying attention.]
[Wrathion avoids reacting this time, and instead returns to carefully advancing another center piece forward. Regardless of what Anduin planned to do, he had his own ideas. And he was not interested in hearing them.
But there's something else eating at him, and he cannot pretend it isn't anymore. He sighs softly out of his nose and focuses on the board rather than Anduin.]
What did Ramir have to say to you?
[If his name came up in conversation, something must have prompted it. He couldn't imagine Anduin discussing him for any reason -- he knew better. Or, at least, he liked to think that he did.]
[ Anduin pauses at that, the odd open show of emotion from the dragon. That's...not quite what he expected, from the way their relationship was described to him.
Well then. Will wonders never cease. ]
Simply that you were contracted out of convenience for the both of you, and that she'd been the one to damage your arm.
[ He considers the board a while longer, though his eyes flicker up to rest on Wrathion's briefly. ]
A case of her not knowing her own strength. She seemed upset over the incident. More upset at the thought that you might hate her now, as a result.
[Wrathion relaxes just a bit after the information is given to him. He is admittedly a bit surprised -- somehow, he had expected her to divulge the more unfortunate circumstances of their history with one another. He cannot help but think that anyone else would have.
He sniffs. A noisy and petulant response given once he mentions his arm. He cannot say he is upset that she feels guilty -- in truth, she was lucky that she had gotten him to contract at all, after that.
Perhaps one day, he would let her off the hook.]
Hate is a strong word. But she is quite fortunate that I had need of her.
[Just to be clear, he is still mad.
He sticks the candy cane back between his lips, letting his eyes sit on Anduin instead of the board in exchange. It was hard not to -- what with the new attire and all.]
I was reasonably certain that was the case. I trust you won't be too unkind to her.
[ Entirely unkind? He can't ask that. Wrathion won't even give him that much, much less that he should ask it for anyone else. But he has a feeling Ramir can hold her own against the dragon.
He'd just rather two people he cares for not end up at odds. More so than they may already be. ]
Hm.
[ If he notices the way Wrathion's gaze lingers on him -- the open collar and rolled-up sleeves admittedly more than he usually shows of himself -- he doesn't react to it at all, mind apparently fully on the game, teeth momentarily needling the edge of his now-healed lip.
Finally he leans forward, reaching out to delicately shift another piece, further back, up to join the rest. Not close enough yet to be any sort of threat to his board state, of course. ]
[He is distracted enough that he does not re-engage with the board right away. It occurs to him suddenly that he only recognized one of the names that Anduin had provided to him when he discussed those who had assisted in healing him.
Khadgar was an unsurprising presence. Even if he was still young, Anduin was still of Wrynn stock. It was hardly surprising. But Anders ...
Well. A problem for another day. He catches himself staring and quickly drops his eyes back to the board to avoid being called on it.]
Your strategy hasn't changed much.
[A challenge. He advances another piece on the outside to make his point, biting into the last of his candy cane.]
[ But not so much that it isn't still playing the game the way he intends to. His thumb taps briefly against his lower lip in thought, before reaching forward towards the boards once again. ]
I'm considering a contracting a Submissive.
[ Click. A long-dormant piece near the middle suddenly advances. ]
[Rather than display his surprise openly, Wrathion shifts the contents in his mouth to the other side of it. It's a pleasant surprise, in its own way -- he half expected Anduin to resist until the city jailed him for noncompliance. In a way, its a refreshing turn of events.
His eyebrows raise, and he hums his interest.]
Oh?
[Wrathion's attention remains focused on his piece on the outside, nudging it forward almost lazily.]
[ Another piece advances towards the center, before he leans back and reaches for his tea. The movement causes a brief twinge, but one he's easily able to mask. ]
He arrived at roughly the same time I did, so his time is similarly running short. Since contracts can be as personal or professional as one's needs demand, I think he'd be amenable.
[ Because that's how it is. Hanging too many expectations on a contract partner was foolish, and had been from the start.
Wrathion had in fact told him so, but of course he'd had to discover that fact for himself before the lesson took root. ]
[That coaxes a smile from him. It was rare enough that Anduin took his lessons to heart -- at least this one came without greater cost. Wrathion uncrosses his arms, allowing one hand to rest upon each knee. The name was familiar to him, though he'd only spoken to the man once.]
That is the best course of action, I think.
[He reaches for his tea.]
I confess, I am surprised you did not ask Gilia first.
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[He says it a bit dryly, the way he often remarks on things Anduin does that he does not agree with. He isn't quite so bold as to remark directly - after all, it had only been a few weeks prior that he had been given some measure of forgiveness by the king. He is not unaware of his own hypocrisy, in that regard.
He takes the cup as it is offered to him, shifting just a bit in his seat. If he had not seen Anduin recover from the bell, he might have been more bewildered by his recovery.]
You look better.
[A mild change of subject. He can feel something creeping up the back of his throat, thinking of Ramir and forgiveness in the same breath.]
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[ All said very matter-of-fact. The shakiness from the night of the attack is nowhere to be seen, and he seems just as sturdy as ever, calmly sipping his own tea as he moves to sit across from the dragon. ]
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All that bedrest in between all of those visitors.
[He's not buying it. But a smooth smile that follows the comment suggests that whatever answer he was waiting for was given with that reply.]
How is our dear friend, the Archmage? I have not seen very much of him in recent weeks.
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He seemed well. We spoke at some length about what he's gone through here in the city as well.
[ One of the pieces clicks as it settles onto its space on the grid. ]
Time spent here is kind to no one. As we would all do well to remember.
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[Another sip of tea. He ignores commenting specifically on the latter comment, though he does not bother to disguise the flat expression that comes over his face.
After all, he did not particularly have compassion for everyone in the city -- just a few. And what happened to them was more important than what happened to everyone else.]
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[ He sits back, waiting. Fingers tracing the edge of his tea cup. ]
Even if I had died during the attack, they would have likely found a way to bring me back. I doubt it's in any way I would care to experience first-hand.
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Unfortunately, he cannot quite keep his mouth shut, so much as he is able to school his expression.]
You could have fooled me.
[He sticks the candy cane back in his mouth.]
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Being ready to die is not the same as wanting to.
[ But to someone who could live for millennia, potentially, he can accept that concept as a hard sell. ]
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[Now Wrathion sits back and crosses his arms. Anduin was ready to die for so many people, things, and ideas. The concept is, indeed, a hard sell. Watching a human, particularly a human who was meant to be important to a great amount of people, casually throw his life around...
It's infuriating.]
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[ His eyes lower to the board with a soft sigh, considering his movements, before adjusting one of his pieces towards the edge of the board.
Side-stepping the immediate confrontation. ]
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It is difficult not to be frustrated when you say things like that.
[It is a small correction.]
Particularly when alternative paths are open to you.
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[ Click.
He leans back again, taking a longer sip of his tea this time. ]
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There is no need to be coy, your majesty.
[Now he leans forward to slowly slide a piece across the board. It is almost daring, and he makes sure to use his already injured arm. No reason to incapacitate himself over something so petty.]
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Ramir's voice surfaces in the back of his mind, unbidden, and Anduin lets out a quiet sigh before moving one of his pieces to meet Wrathion's in the middle. ]
No. I understand your meaning. And my frustration is with the situation, and not you.
[ A faint wrinkle appears in his brow. ]
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[His jaw says otherwise, even as he lifts a hand to rub one hand there to stave off the memory. He takes the opportunity to take the piece Anduin had just opted to move.
For all lessons he'd learned, he's still playing to win -- a little.]
Has he contacted you yet? Hellboy.
[He knows his name, which is undoubtedly a sign that he is paying attention.]
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[ And as Wrathion makes his advance across the center, Anduin shifts his first piece further along the edge. ]
I was planning to reach out to him myself, but I thought he might need some time, after what happened.
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[Wrathion avoids reacting this time, and instead returns to carefully advancing another center piece forward. Regardless of what Anduin planned to do, he had his own ideas. And he was not interested in hearing them.
But there's something else eating at him, and he cannot pretend it isn't anymore. He sighs softly out of his nose and focuses on the board rather than Anduin.]
What did Ramir have to say to you?
[If his name came up in conversation, something must have prompted it. He couldn't imagine Anduin discussing him for any reason -- he knew better. Or, at least, he liked to think that he did.]
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Well then. Will wonders never cease. ]
Simply that you were contracted out of convenience for the both of you, and that she'd been the one to damage your arm.
[ He considers the board a while longer, though his eyes flicker up to rest on Wrathion's briefly. ]
A case of her not knowing her own strength. She seemed upset over the incident. More upset at the thought that you might hate her now, as a result.
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He sniffs. A noisy and petulant response given once he mentions his arm. He cannot say he is upset that she feels guilty -- in truth, she was lucky that she had gotten him to contract at all, after that.
Perhaps one day, he would let her off the hook.]
Hate is a strong word. But she is quite fortunate that I had need of her.
[Just to be clear, he is still mad.
He sticks the candy cane back between his lips, letting his eyes sit on Anduin instead of the board in exchange. It was hard not to -- what with the new attire and all.]
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[ Entirely unkind? He can't ask that. Wrathion won't even give him that much, much less that he should ask it for anyone else. But he has a feeling Ramir can hold her own against the dragon.
He'd just rather two people he cares for not end up at odds. More so than they may already be. ]
Hm.
[ If he notices the way Wrathion's gaze lingers on him -- the open collar and rolled-up sleeves admittedly more than he usually shows of himself -- he doesn't react to it at all, mind apparently fully on the game, teeth momentarily needling the edge of his now-healed lip.
Finally he leans forward, reaching out to delicately shift another piece, further back, up to join the rest. Not close enough yet to be any sort of threat to his board state, of course. ]
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Khadgar was an unsurprising presence. Even if he was still young, Anduin was still of Wrynn stock. It was hardly surprising. But Anders ...
Well. A problem for another day. He catches himself staring and quickly drops his eyes back to the board to avoid being called on it.]
Your strategy hasn't changed much.
[A challenge. He advances another piece on the outside to make his point, biting into the last of his candy cane.]
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[ But not so much that it isn't still playing the game the way he intends to. His thumb taps briefly against his lower lip in thought, before reaching forward towards the boards once again. ]
I'm considering a contracting a Submissive.
[ Click. A long-dormant piece near the middle suddenly advances. ]
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His eyebrows raise, and he hums his interest.]
Oh?
[Wrathion's attention remains focused on his piece on the outside, nudging it forward almost lazily.]
And who might you be considering?
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[ Another piece advances towards the center, before he leans back and reaches for his tea. The movement causes a brief twinge, but one he's easily able to mask. ]
He arrived at roughly the same time I did, so his time is similarly running short. Since contracts can be as personal or professional as one's needs demand, I think he'd be amenable.
[ Because that's how it is. Hanging too many expectations on a contract partner was foolish, and had been from the start.
Wrathion had in fact told him so, but of course he'd had to discover that fact for himself before the lesson took root. ]
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That is the best course of action, I think.
[He reaches for his tea.]
I confess, I am surprised you did not ask Gilia first.
[Sip.]
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