[Wrathion sips his tea in consideration, but does not withdraw from the conversation just yet. The gears are obviously turning. He hadn't prepared for such a direct conversion about his fears surrounding Anduin's relentless pursuit of self-destruction.
Maybe like, somethin adjacent to that. But not this.]
And what if I don't think you are ready to understand?
[As soon as it is out of his mouth, he sighs in disgust with himself. It isn't that he wants to talk about it -- but trying to avoid it this way just makes him sound like.
Well. A cultist.]
Nevermind. Just sit, and I will...attempt to explain.
[He had thought he might go back to the board and give him a bit of space -- but somehow, it is just like Anduin to immediately act at the slightest hint of acquiescence. So he shakes his head and creates the distance himself, retreating to the opposite wall in order to lean upon it.
Where does he begin, here? It has all become a complicated web stemming from one source -- so perhaps it is best to start with that.]
You are right. It is time we discussed what I have been doing for the past while. Before my time here.
[This is Anduin's last chance to opt out of that conversation while he is in recovery -- or for him to relocate.]
[ And as he might have expected, there's no sign of backing down. Anduin looks to him, expectantly, but with the patience he knows must be employed where Wrathion is concerned.
He'll say what he means to say, when he means to say it, and no more than that. So. At the very least, he has his undivided attention. ]
[Exactly as expected. But the time was more for Wrathion to tug out the information he'd been compartmentalizing in order to focus on delivering it in a way that answered Anduin's ultimate question.
Within reason.]
As you know, I've spent much of my time focusing my energy on how to deal with the problem of the Black Empire. Well, despite my predisposed and famed resilience -- I was noticed.
[He says this in a way that is resigned to how this is going to color the rest of the information he gives Anduin. But it should be given -- he knows, in his heart, that he's been avoiding this because it reveals too much about the pair of them.]
Since then, N'zoth has spent a great amount of his energy and forces upon me. I fear this is part of the reason he's turned his eyes upon Stormwind. Like it or not, you and I share...a history.
[That's a nice, sanitized way to put it.]
And you are rather unfortunately prone to self-sacrifice.
[ Why else risk coming to the heart of a kingdom so predisposed to hating his kind, who'd suffered so much at the hands of the black dragonflight? Why else risk the wrath of someone he knew he'd wronged so entirely?
It was in fact a tremendous risk he'd taken, all with the same cavalier attitude that he'd have expected from the Black Prince. But this throws all of that into context, doesn't it? ]
You knew his eyes would be upon me after...after what he saw in you.
[Wrathion does not bother to confirm or deny. Anduin is smart enough to figure it out, or he would not have voiced it. He's correct, of course -- and he is not excited to admit it openly. Examining all of this openly is more than enough reflection for him.]
I have seen...traces of similar forces at work here. I do not believe the two are related -- but that does not mean they cannot be wielded in the same way.
[He pauses for a sip of tea here.]
The Old Gods, and N'zoth in particular, grow in power as instability manifests around them. So you may perhaps understand why I have such little concern for your physical state. You are easily one of the best mortal healers I am acquainted with, after all.
[ His fingers shift, lightly gripping the edge of the counter, as he stares at Wrathion. Drinking his tea as though that would somehow temper the edge. ]
[Excuse you, he has zero feeling. He manages to keep the offense off of his face.]
It is not the feeling that is the issue. It is that you regulate it improperly. As if everyone else is somehow more important than you. That is the sort of attitude the Corruptor and others like him feast upon.
[His arms fold again, the cup of tea tucked under his arm.]
[Of course it would not be what he expected. Why would he expect it, when Wrathion took great pains to keep his orchestrated observations to himself until precisely the right moment?
He does not move off of his place upon the wall just yet.]
Go on, then. Do not leave me in suspense.
[He does not sound in suspense. He's picked up from the school of the Shado-Pan in regards to compartmentalization -- perhaps a bit too well.]
I just...I would have thought you'd have already figured this place out, by now.
[ Another step closer, like a piece moving across the board of their game. ]
This place wants to break us down. These games of theirs, they're meant to study us. To push at our insecurities, our weaknesses, our greatest fears. Bringing us face to face with our shadows and watch us struggle in the face of them.
[ Another step closer, his hands clasped quietly in front of him. ]
Feeling isn't going to be the thing that dooms us. They're going to target us all, regardless. And the people with the most to hide will be the ones to suffer the most.
[ He hesitates, just for a moment. ]
I'm not the one most at risk, here. Even at home, even if they were targeting me, it wasn't really me they were after, was it?
[Wrathion stays perfectly still against the wall, save for the subtle shifting of the cup in his hand. He does, of course, know all of this. In giving the information in the first place, he had perhaps confessed some of that knowledge without explicitly saying so.
No one in the city has more exposure to him than Anduin. Getting to Anduin is the first logical step in getting to Wrathion. It is not a difficult leap to make, for anyone who has discovered they are connected in any way.]
The King of Stormwind would have been a nice consolation prize.
[But no, of course N'zoth was not after Anduin. He was after the Black Prince.]
[ It takes a moment, before the realization slots into place. Before his eyes widen ever so slightly. ]
...but N'zoth knew the way to get to you was to threaten me.
[ Suddenly the reason Wrathion was so angered by his own disregard for his own life makes so much more sense. Unknowingly, he'd been flirting with pressing that very large, obvious red button that he somehow hadn't noticed before now. And as a dragon with more self-preservation instinct than most, Wrathion would of course want to safeguard and defend any weakness he had while vehemently denying he had one at all.
But that's not true at all, is it? I'm his weakness.
He's not sure what to do as the weight of that realization starts to settle in, not right away. Anduin stands frozen for a moment, his grip on his own hands tightening. ]
[When Wrathion spots the recognition in Anduin's eyes, he finally unfolds to drink his tea. The smile that crosses his face does not reach his eyes.]
Wouldn't that be something?
[And the city had made it so that they could, in theory, regulate the amount of prolonged contact he had with Anduin thanks to the rules regarding Dominant relations. Small bits of control taken from him, in a way he had no easy path to combat.
He won't confirm it openly -- he does not need to. Anduin had asked, after all, and Wrathion had killed two birds with one stone.
With that, he turns, intent on returning to the game to distract from the awkward revelation. It had been his move -- so he must reacquaint himself with the board.]
[ It's that movement that spurs his own. Wrathion turns, and Anduin's hand reaches out, clasping hold of his wrist before he can think about it.
There's a great deal churning through his mind at the moment, but what comes out is: ]
I'm sorry. I didn't...I was being thoughtless, and I didn't realize.
[ And contrary to what might have been expected of him, given the way he'd greeted Wrathion's return back in the keep, hurting the dragon is the last thing he wants to do. ]
[He freezes, not because he is surprised, but because an instinct to dislodge himself swiftly arises quickly enough that he needs to put energy into ... not doing that. Wrathion half turns, looking over his shoulder at the other man with the same unreadable expression on his face.
He doesn't really want to unpack this. But now that it is out in the open, is there any real avoiding it?]
You do not need to do that.
[Apologize. That wasn't the point of him telling the truth, even if he had danced around it for a bit and left the king to come to the conclusion on his own.
That would imply that he was hurt somehow. And that would be ridiculous because feelings are fake.]
[ There's an almost wry smile that threatens the edge of his mouth as he moves closer, releasing his hold when Wrathion tenses and goes all inscrutable all over again. That was it. That was the glimpse to the inside that he wanted, and now the walls were up again.
Fair enough, he supposes. Be careful what you wish for. ]
I know. I know you'd rather I didn't say anything at all. And I won't again after this.
[ He's close enough now to be reminded of the way the dragon throws heat like a furnace, brow furrowed. ]
So let me just this once.
[ Him, and the frail, silly, pointless human feelings he does have. Then Wrathion can go back to plotting in peace, as he so clearly wants to do. ]
Something uncomfortable and heavy sits in his stomach after Anduin let's go of him. Ugh. He was getting worse instead of better at finding ways to engage with complex emotion. He had hoped to be done with it -- make his point, allow Anduin to reflect, and then move on without further examination.
But the stuff in between is never anything he is able to calculate, and once it surfaces, it never goes back in its box the same way.
His jaw clenches slightly. His tongue, pressing against the back of his teeth.]
Anduin.
[There is something unspoken in the usage of his name. They can't. They shouldn't.
But he wants to, and that's the core of the problem. He has had enough side lessons now on the benefits of emotional intimacy to know that he will be ruined if he allows Anduin that close.]
[ There's always something unspoken. Too much that can't be said out loud, with a hundred reasons why not.
But Anduin wants to. That's what it keeps circling back to, this inevitable pull back into one another's orbit no matter what they do, what is or isn't said.
His fingertips brush that clenched jaw as he leans inward, until the burning red of Wrathion's eyes falls just out of focus, and his own drift almost shut. Almost close enough to press his lips to his, even knowing the smart thing to do would be to let it go and return to their game.
They can't. They shouldn't. ]
...I concede.
[ So soft it's barely audible.
And then he's tilting in, lips brushing against his, and it feels like it will never feel like anything other than something stolen, something he shouldn't be allowed to have. ]
[He has enough time in that short span of breath to add distance and to retreat from -- whatever this is they are doing to each other. Their game has been played, Anduin has conceded, and they could go back to anything else but what they were doing.
But even as he thinks about it, even as his own eyelids draw downward in slight melancholy, he finds that his legs will not move him. His neck will not turn his face away from the hand resting against his jaw. He has all the power to make the decision. This time, there is nothing about this that is forced.
And instead, he gives into it anyway, leaning in to meet the soft press of other man's lips. Because if he could not have this, if he could not have the one person who inspired him to be better even for just a moment, then--what was the point of confessing?
The gesture is equally soft and cautious -- nothing like their previous encounters. And when Wrathion finally pulls away from it just enough to speak, he feels like he might be leaving something behind.]
That smile tugs free once more, his touch straying up along the edge of Wrathion's cheek, where he remembered those scales having been before. A mere hint of what was really there, what he'd finally had the chance to see that night.
Nothing like any black dragon he'd seen before. Elegant. Beautiful. Other words that would doubtlessly have Wrathion preening should he speak them out loud. ]
Mm. A draw, then.
[ The second kiss is no less tender, but perhaps a little more certain now, knowing the stolen moment for what it is and determined to make the most of it. After all, having worried Wrathion so with his recklessness, perhaps some small comfort is the least he can do. ]
[If he was going to be reckless, he could at least do so with him.
But Wrathion was not an overly affectionate creature -- until recently, he simply didn't possess the emotional sensitivity for it. The series of unfortunate events that had walked him down the path to that understanding where still churning in his mind. And, when Anduin seeks his lips again, he is a little quicker to give into it. After all, the stolen moments were all they would ever be permitted.
If they did not take advantage of them, they would simply have nothing.
One hand drifts upward to rest upon the other man's arm to leverage himself -- the one nearest his cheek. He allows the kiss to linger longer this time, pressing into his touch in an attempt to dispel the pit that had formed in his stomach. Such open displays of vulnerability would never be overly comfortable for him -- but Anduin, at least, was a more familiar soul.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Maybe like, somethin adjacent to that. But not this.]
And what if I don't think you are ready to understand?
[As soon as it is out of his mouth, he sighs in disgust with himself. It isn't that he wants to talk about it -- but trying to avoid it this way just makes him sound like.
Well. A cultist.]
Nevermind. Just sit, and I will...attempt to explain.
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So, he hops up onto the counter, hands folded between his knees as he watches the dragon hopefully, waiting for whatever came next.
Regardless of what it is? He's listening. ]
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Where does he begin, here? It has all become a complicated web stemming from one source -- so perhaps it is best to start with that.]
You are right. It is time we discussed what I have been doing for the past while. Before my time here.
[This is Anduin's last chance to opt out of that conversation while he is in recovery -- or for him to relocate.]
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He'll say what he means to say, when he means to say it, and no more than that. So. At the very least, he has his undivided attention. ]
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Within reason.]
As you know, I've spent much of my time focusing my energy on how to deal with the problem of the Black Empire. Well, despite my predisposed and famed resilience -- I was noticed.
[He says this in a way that is resigned to how this is going to color the rest of the information he gives Anduin. But it should be given -- he knows, in his heart, that he's been avoiding this because it reveals too much about the pair of them.]
Since then, N'zoth has spent a great amount of his energy and forces upon me. I fear this is part of the reason he's turned his eyes upon Stormwind. Like it or not, you and I share...a history.
[That's a nice, sanitized way to put it.]
And you are rather unfortunately prone to self-sacrifice.
[As recently demonstrated.]
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[ Why else risk coming to the heart of a kingdom so predisposed to hating his kind, who'd suffered so much at the hands of the black dragonflight? Why else risk the wrath of someone he knew he'd wronged so entirely?
It was in fact a tremendous risk he'd taken, all with the same cavalier attitude that he'd have expected from the Black Prince. But this throws all of that into context, doesn't it? ]
You knew his eyes would be upon me after...after what he saw in you.
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I have seen...traces of similar forces at work here. I do not believe the two are related -- but that does not mean they cannot be wielded in the same way.
[He pauses for a sip of tea here.]
The Old Gods, and N'zoth in particular, grow in power as instability manifests around them. So you may perhaps understand why I have such little concern for your physical state. You are easily one of the best mortal healers I am acquainted with, after all.
[But the rest...well.]
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[ His fingers shift, lightly gripping the edge of the counter, as he stares at Wrathion. Drinking his tea as though that would somehow temper the edge. ]
Whatever comes, I can bear it.
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[Wrathion points directly at Anduin in accusation, as if he's just made his point for him.]
You feel. Immensely. It is part of who you are.
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[ If anything he looks more confused than ever. ]
You say that as thought it's an option. I can't help feeling any more than you can.
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It is not the feeling that is the issue. It is that you regulate it improperly. As if everyone else is somehow more important than you. That is the sort of attitude the Corruptor and others like him feast upon.
[His arms fold again, the cup of tea tucked under his arm.]
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[ After a moment's thought, he moves forward, slipping down off of the counter and to his feet. ]
I'm not sure that's what I was expecting.
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[Of course it would not be what he expected. Why would he expect it, when Wrathion took great pains to keep his orchestrated observations to himself until precisely the right moment?
He does not move off of his place upon the wall just yet.]
Go on, then. Do not leave me in suspense.
[He does not sound in suspense. He's picked up from the school of the Shado-Pan in regards to compartmentalization -- perhaps a bit too well.]
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[ Another step closer, like a piece moving across the board of their game. ]
This place wants to break us down. These games of theirs, they're meant to study us. To push at our insecurities, our weaknesses, our greatest fears. Bringing us face to face with our shadows and watch us struggle in the face of them.
[ Another step closer, his hands clasped quietly in front of him. ]
Feeling isn't going to be the thing that dooms us. They're going to target us all, regardless. And the people with the most to hide will be the ones to suffer the most.
[ He hesitates, just for a moment. ]
I'm not the one most at risk, here. Even at home, even if they were targeting me, it wasn't really me they were after, was it?
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No one in the city has more exposure to him than Anduin. Getting to Anduin is the first logical step in getting to Wrathion. It is not a difficult leap to make, for anyone who has discovered they are connected in any way.]
The King of Stormwind would have been a nice consolation prize.
[But no, of course N'zoth was not after Anduin. He was after the Black Prince.]
no subject
...but N'zoth knew the way to get to you was to threaten me.
[ Suddenly the reason Wrathion was so angered by his own disregard for his own life makes so much more sense. Unknowingly, he'd been flirting with pressing that very large, obvious red button that he somehow hadn't noticed before now. And as a dragon with more self-preservation instinct than most, Wrathion would of course want to safeguard and defend any weakness he had while vehemently denying he had one at all.
But that's not true at all, is it? I'm his weakness.
He's not sure what to do as the weight of that realization starts to settle in, not right away. Anduin stands frozen for a moment, his grip on his own hands tightening. ]
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Wouldn't that be something?
[And the city had made it so that they could, in theory, regulate the amount of prolonged contact he had with Anduin thanks to the rules regarding Dominant relations. Small bits of control taken from him, in a way he had no easy path to combat.
He won't confirm it openly -- he does not need to. Anduin had asked, after all, and Wrathion had killed two birds with one stone.
With that, he turns, intent on returning to the game to distract from the awkward revelation. It had been his move -- so he must reacquaint himself with the board.]
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There's a great deal churning through his mind at the moment, but what comes out is: ]
I'm sorry. I didn't...I was being thoughtless, and I didn't realize.
[ And contrary to what might have been expected of him, given the way he'd greeted Wrathion's return back in the keep, hurting the dragon is the last thing he wants to do. ]
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He doesn't really want to unpack this. But now that it is out in the open, is there any real avoiding it?]
You do not need to do that.
[Apologize. That wasn't the point of him telling the truth, even if he had danced around it for a bit and left the king to come to the conclusion on his own.
That would imply that he was hurt somehow. And that would be ridiculous because feelings are fake.]
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Fair enough, he supposes. Be careful what you wish for. ]
I know. I know you'd rather I didn't say anything at all. And I won't again after this.
[ He's close enough now to be reminded of the way the dragon throws heat like a furnace, brow furrowed. ]
So let me just this once.
[ Him, and the frail, silly, pointless human feelings he does have. Then Wrathion can go back to plotting in peace, as he so clearly wants to do. ]
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Something uncomfortable and heavy sits in his stomach after Anduin let's go of him. Ugh. He was getting worse instead of better at finding ways to engage with complex emotion. He had hoped to be done with it -- make his point, allow Anduin to reflect, and then move on without further examination.
But the stuff in between is never anything he is able to calculate, and once it surfaces, it never goes back in its box the same way.
His jaw clenches slightly. His tongue, pressing against the back of his teeth.]
Anduin.
[There is something unspoken in the usage of his name. They can't. They shouldn't.
But he wants to, and that's the core of the problem. He has had enough side lessons now on the benefits of emotional intimacy to know that he will be ruined if he allows Anduin that close.]
no subject
But Anduin wants to. That's what it keeps circling back to, this inevitable pull back into one another's orbit no matter what they do, what is or isn't said.
His fingertips brush that clenched jaw as he leans inward, until the burning red of Wrathion's eyes falls just out of focus, and his own drift almost shut. Almost close enough to press his lips to his, even knowing the smart thing to do would be to let it go and return to their game.
They can't. They shouldn't. ]
...I concede.
[ So soft it's barely audible.
And then he's tilting in, lips brushing against his, and it feels like it will never feel like anything other than something stolen, something he shouldn't be allowed to have. ]
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But even as he thinks about it, even as his own eyelids draw downward in slight melancholy, he finds that his legs will not move him. His neck will not turn his face away from the hand resting against his jaw. He has all the power to make the decision. This time, there is nothing about this that is forced.
And instead, he gives into it anyway, leaning in to meet the soft press of other man's lips. Because if he could not have this, if he could not have the one person who inspired him to be better even for just a moment, then--what was the point of confessing?
The gesture is equally soft and cautious -- nothing like their previous encounters. And when Wrathion finally pulls away from it just enough to speak, he feels like he might be leaving something behind.]
...perhaps we call it a draw.
no subject
That smile tugs free once more, his touch straying up along the edge of Wrathion's cheek, where he remembered those scales having been before. A mere hint of what was really there, what he'd finally had the chance to see that night.
Nothing like any black dragon he'd seen before. Elegant. Beautiful. Other words that would doubtlessly have Wrathion preening should he speak them out loud. ]
Mm. A draw, then.
[ The second kiss is no less tender, but perhaps a little more certain now, knowing the stolen moment for what it is and determined to make the most of it. After all, having worried Wrathion so with his recklessness, perhaps some small comfort is the least he can do. ]
no subject
But Wrathion was not an overly affectionate creature -- until recently, he simply didn't possess the emotional sensitivity for it. The series of unfortunate events that had walked him down the path to that understanding where still churning in his mind. And, when Anduin seeks his lips again, he is a little quicker to give into it. After all, the stolen moments were all they would ever be permitted.
If they did not take advantage of them, they would simply have nothing.
One hand drifts upward to rest upon the other man's arm to leverage himself -- the one nearest his cheek. He allows the kiss to linger longer this time, pressing into his touch in an attempt to dispel the pit that had formed in his stomach. Such open displays of vulnerability would never be overly comfortable for him -- but Anduin, at least, was a more familiar soul.]
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