Chapter Text
She couldn't believe his sheer audacity, striding into the Enclave in Oribos with his head held high, chest puffed, trailed by two rogues, and making his declaration.
"Bolvar Fordragon, I am Wrathion of the black dragon flight. I've come to offer my assistance and the might of the Black Talons to aid in your cause."
Taelia heard murmurs of both confusion and amusement from a few death knights behind her as she drifted closer to the platform where her father presided over their operations in the Shadowlands. It was the only interesting thing to happen in weeks, the dragon's announcement drew the attention of everyone in the room.
"Wrathion," her father's otherworldly voice rolled over the name as if trying to contemplate what he knew of the dragon attached to it, "Exactly what assistance do you offer?"
"I've spoken with a few of your champions and am familiar with your goals. My agents are prepared to pledge themselves to the covenants that will have them, as well as walk the Maw and enter Torghast to look for Azeroth's missing leaders."
More murmurs of interest and skepticism from lingering adventurers echoed around the room before Darion Mograine cut through the noise to ask in his empty deadpan, "Why?"
The dragon flashed a winning smile. "You are, of course, aware of the many problems plaguing our planet? The sooner the world's leaders can be rescued, the sooner the world's champions can return to saving Azeroth."
A death knight behind the command table let out a derisive snort.
Bolvar turned. "Something you wish to say, champion?"
The knight looked stunned in the sudden spotlight, but quickly recovered herself. "No, my lord, just that I and many others of our order can vouch for Wrathion. We've worked with him before. I know at least one of his goals is aligned with ours."
"And what goal is that?"
"Freeing King Anduin Wrynn."
The air seemed to leave the room at the mention of that name, a hush settling over them all. Her father turned back towards the dragon, his molten eyes narrowed.
Wrathion's smile dropped, his face serious. "I do wish to see all of Azeroth's leaders freed. I won't deny that I have particular concern for Anduin most of all."
"What do you want with him?"
"I simply wish to see him safe."
"I heard he punched you in front of all of his advisors," said Mograine at her father's elbow.
"Our relationship is... complicated," said Wrathion before his eyes flicked briefly to her.
Taelia froze, though his gaze did not rest on her long. He looked away again quickly enough that she could hope no one else noticed.
"To clarify," continued Wrathion, "I came here not to ask your permission but to inform you that I will be working here in tandem. If I discover any information that would be useful, I will share it. I would ask that you extend the same courtesy. Now if you would excuse me, I have many things still to do to get the Black Talons established."
Then he turned and walked away, his agents following behind him.
Before Taelia came to the Shadowlands in search of her father, before the sky broke, before everything, she was just a cadet. Helping unite Kul Tiras felt right while she was doing it, too busy in the moment to realize the significance until after they'd succeeded and she was being introduced to the leader of the entire bloody Alliance, High King Anduin Wrynn... the boy who'd spent more time growing up around her father than she had.
Inviting her to Stormwind was the least he could do.
It was an adventure, her first chance to travel since she escaped the mainland as a little girl. She arrived through Jaina's portal wide-eyed and eager to see the city she knew through stories, so trusting of all the important leaders of the Alliance that met her. She stayed for several weeks, constantly pushed towards the young king for being female and of marriageable age and despite her not knowing anything about being a noblewoman. Not that she minded too much, it gave her plenty of time to get the answers she wanted out of him.
From their very first conversation, he insisted she call him just Anduin, happy to answer her questions about her father and share the memories she coveted. He told her stories of her father's gentle but firm parenting, how Bolvar was there for him during the disappearance of his own father, how much he mourned when the news from Wrathgate came. (In hindsight, he only ever used vague, dancing words implying her father's death, how did she not realize?)
Her jealousy manifested on the sparring grounds, swiping the magic sword from his hands and knocking him on his royal ass more than once, but for some reason that only seemed to make him like her more.
He kept inviting her to talk even after they'd exhausted the topic of her father. No doubt he was being encouraged by his advisors to spend time with her, but she couldn't blame him for wanting to take advantage of the escape she offered, their meetings were the only part of his day he was guaranteed not to be disturbed with more pressing demands of the crown. He was kind, and he was tired, and he was so painfully in need of a friend (maybe they both were) that she didn't have the heart to turn him down. She tried to maintain boundaries, keep a respectful distance, but conversation flowed easily between them, she enjoyed spending time with him, and despite her best efforts, she started to like him too.
She had plenty of time standing around in Oribos to try to figure out how she ended up sleeping with him. At first she thought it was loneliness that brought them together, both of them seeking solace in someone they trusted. Perhaps he felt safe knowing she neither wanted nor expected any sort of commitment from him, she made that clear from the beginning. It's just sex, she told herself, but if it were that simple, why had she returned again and again? Why had he kept inviting her? (Why did he still occupy her thoughts all these months later despite knowing all the lies?)
They kept their dalliance secret of course, sneaking into each other's beds when the opportunities arose. She could only imagine the pressure they'd face if anyone found out what they were doing, though she had a suspicion Jaina knew. It only lasted a few weeks, stolen nights alleviating stress between his days filled with treaty negotiations finalizing the end of the war...
Then came the news that an old god had been defeated.
Taelia stared down into the swirling red and black of the Maw below, sitting on the outermost ring of Oribos, her toes on the edge, hugging her knees to her chest.
Helplessness was an old acquaintance. They first met when she was a little girl watching undead monsters tear her mother apart, again when her father sent her away so he could stay behind and fight, again when the Cataclysm shook the island she was just starting to call home, again when a demon planet appeared in the sky, again when Azeroth bled and everyone fought over who got to kill each other with the blood first... but she'd never felt more helpless than she did now.
Despite all the tragedies, the wars, the fear, at least throughout was the promise of death if the world actually did come to an end. If not the afterlife spoken of by the Tidesages of calm days by a plentiful sea, or even a oneness with the Light that her father used to believe in, then at least perhaps she could look forward to a peaceful oblivion.
Knowing what she did now about the Shadowlands, the Arbiter, the Maw... it shook her down to the core. Knowing that if she died at that very moment her soul would go straight to a realm of pain and torture... it was enough to send a mortal spiraling down into despair, curled against the wall watching countless souls pour through Oribos down to that very fate. It wasn't so much concern for her own soul that threatened to break her, but the fact that she could do nothing to stop it from happening to so many others at that moment.
There was nothing she could do to save anyone.
She'd stood to the side in the Enclave for weeks now, listening, ready to offer anything she could, frustrated that the extent of her contributions had been begging her father to confirm that Jaina and Thrall were still alive somewhere inside of Torghast. She still felt guilty for it too, asking a father she barely knew to risk himself like that.
On top of everything else, the reunion with her father hadn't been what she'd hoped for either.
Drowning in her sorrows, she didn't notice the sound of approaching footsteps until they were next to her. She looked up, following the line from ornate boots up to piercing red eyes.
"Wrathion." She hated how rough her voice sounded. "Go away."
"Are you all right?" asked the dragon, head tilted curiously to the side.
"I'm fine," she lied. "What do you want?"
He sighed as he sank down next to her, his feet dangling dangerously over the ledge. "I don't mean to disturb you, but I have news from Torghast."
"You should go tell my father then," she said. Why was he speaking to her at all?
"You can pass on the message for me. I think you will be pleased by this news as well."
She glared down at the Maw below. "Out with it then."
"My agents saw Anduin. He's alive and appeared to be unharmed."
Hope bloomed in her chest and she turned to look at him, searching him for any signs of deception. He looked back, impossible to read, brow furrowed as if studying her reaction right back.
"Do you know how he can be freed?" she asked.
Wrathion shook his head. "They're keeping him within the most protected parts of Torghast, my agent almost died catching a glimpse of him. I have been working to find a pattern to Torghast's ever-changing halls, but have not found the key to predicting it yet. Until I can solve the puzzle, the chances of finding him again are slim."
Her hope wilted, but she clung to it, peering down into the Maw again as if she could see him from there if she simply looked hard enough.
"They're keeping him alive for a reason. They need him for something," continued Wrathion. "I will free him before that happens."
So confident in his abilities, she wanted to believe him, but from what she'd heard about Torghast and its enormity, Baine, Thrall, and Jaina's rescue was sheer luck. The new information about Anduin cast doubt on that entire rescue operation. Maybe it wasn't such a coincidence, maybe the Jailer released the others because he didn't need them anymore.
She rose to her feet and stepped away from the edge, preparing to deliver the message to her father. "Is there anything else?"
"Yes," he said as he stood and faced her, brushing his finely-embroidered sleeve free of invisible dust. "I believe you and I have much still to discuss."
Taelia crossed her arms, "Oh? Like what?"
"Let's start with what happened between you and our dear king."
She felt herself tense and hoped he didn't notice. "I don't know what you mean. There's nothing to talk about."
He shook his head, disappointed. "I beg to differ. You don't want to talk yet, that's fine, but neither of us have the full story. There are questions we both need answered."
"It doesn't matter now. Anduin already made his choice," she said quietly. She turned to leave. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll deliver your news to my father."
He gave a slight bow as she walked away, "Find me when you're ready. I look forward to speaking with you again soon."
Wrathion.
Where to begin?
She first met Wrathion in Stormwind at the banquet celebrating both the end of the war and the defeat of the old god. She was on Anduin's arm, some hopeful matchmaker having put her in a dress and ensured her place at the table next to his. Anduin was the one to (reluctantly) introduce them.
"Lady Fordragon, it's a pleasure," Wrathion practically purred as he bowed and kissed her hand. She must have blushed, still not used to handsome men treating her with such formality, but then she felt the arcane power thrumming between their fingers where they touched, his glowing red eyes unsettling as amusement danced behind them.
This was a dragon. A damn dragon if she were to ask Cyrus, a curse always preceding the word whenever Kul Tirans spoke it. Fucking dragons could burn and sink a ship with a single bout of flame, all of their stories, tall tales, and shanties painting them as creatures of chaos and destruction... and Wrathion was the worst kind. He set off every one of her danger instincts telling her to run, looking at her like he could eat her, and he would do it too.
His hand held hers for a second longer than was polite, red eyes flashing towards Anduin before he finally withdrew. She watched as they exchanged oddly pointed pleasantries, Anduin wound tight like a spring beside her, quickly shuffling her away from the dragon as soon as the conversation could be ended.
She'd heard the rumors of the infamous punch, though she knew little else about the history between them. Clearly, there was something she was missing, but asking Anduin didn't clarify much.
"There was a time when he was my only friend... before he made some bad decisions based on misguided notions."
"A friend...," she echoed, "and what is he now?"
"He's... an ally," said Anduin after hesitating for far too long. "He's won back my trust... we'll see if he can keep it."
She believed him (like a fool), but she wasn't blind to the way he tracked the dragon with his eyes for the rest of the night.
She shouldn't have asked. After all, they'd made no promises to each other, she had no right to feel jealous, and she tried not to think anything of it when he didn't invite her to join him in his bedchamber later that night.
"Those aren't the ones I'm looking for! Can't you tell the difference between green and black?!"
Taelia was just about to round the corner when she heard the sound of Wrathion's voice steeped in frustration.
"My apologies," came the response from the accented voice of a broker, "the Shadowlands are vast, and only four gates are open, our network started with the leads already at our disposal."
Taelia stopped, pressed herself against the wall, and held her breath as she listened.
Wrathion let out an exasperated sigh. "Far be it for me to tell you how to do your job, but might I suggest leaving Ardenweild for last? I would be surprised to find any of them there, especially the more recently deceased. Skip Bastion too. Start with Revendreth, then try Maldraxxus."
"Of course," said the broker, then whispered something Taelia couldn't quite pick up.
"No! Green dragons weren't in the contract, you'll get your payment when you find what I asked for!"
She heard the broker shuffle away as they apologized, spouting a litany of platitudes as they made their retreat. Taelia stayed still as the steps faded, wondering if she should find a different path to the Idyllia.
"You can come out now, Lady Fordragon," said Wrathion.
She hesitated, debated turning and going the other way, but decided against it. No doubt he would just follow her. She turned the corner to find the dragon with his arms crossed.
She rolled her eyes. "If you don't want people over-hearing your meetings you should try having them in private," she said, "What deal do you have with the brokers?"
He uncrossed his arms, spreading his hands in front of him as if he had nothing to hide. "Others have come to the Shadowlands seeking the fates of their dead relatives, is it so strange that I would have the same curiosity?"
Against her better judgment, she decided to needle him. "Is that why you're really here?"
His eyes flared, "Just because I am seeking answers to other questions, doesn't mean Anduin isn't my priority!"
"You're not exactly known for your honesty, Wrathion. How can I know that's true?"
Pissing off a dragon, was she really that bored? Even Flynn would have called her an idiot.
To her surprise, he didn't snap at her again despite the frustration written all over his face. Instead, Wrathion said, "If seeing my work is what you want, my dear, you have but to simply ask."
Taelia knew she would lose the staring contest that ensued, but she had to at least pretend she wasn't interested in what he was up to. She was almost ready to kill out of sheer boredom though. Patroling Oribos, waiting for her father to talk to her, waiting for anything to happen wasn't enough, she was going crazy waiting for the universe to end.
"May I see your work," she asked through gritted teeth, pausing before she added, "please?"
"It would be my pleasure," he answered with a gracious smile.
She followed him through the winding halls around the Idyllia where most Azerothians rented places to stay. The rooms were all former storage units used by the cartels to keep the endless supply of junk they hoarded and traded. It didn't take long after their arrival for the brokers to figure out it was more lucrative renting out the space to mortal visitors. The suite Wrathion led her to was the biggest one she'd seen yet.
She stopped in the doorway just to take it in, unprepared for the sight that greeted her. The entire room was slammed full of tables, every inch of available surface area and every wall covered in maps upon maps. Big maps, small maps, maps in pieces and layered on top of each other, it was more maps than she'd ever seen in her life and that included her experience with Cyrus's collection of navigational charts.
"Okay... you've been busy," she said as she took a step inside.
Wrathion let out a sardonic laugh. "Indeed."
He leaned against the biggest table in the center of the room, watching her as she slowly wandered around. She let her eyes skim over the maps as she walked by them, recognizing the names of the wings of Torghast she'd heard from the adventurers. The sheer amount of data contained there was mind-boggling, she could only imagine the effort it took just to gather and record the information accurately, let alone draw any conclusions from it.
"Did your agents collect all of this?"
He shook his head, "We talk with all the champions. Most of them are willing to share what they learn from their own rescue attempts."
Taelia completed her circuit around the room, stopping in front of the map laying on the central table. It was the biggest and most complicated one, many notes and markings among the winding floors and hallways leading to a spot circled in red. She reached out, her fingers hovering over it.
"Is that where they saw him?" she asked quietly.
"Yes."
Her eyes burned as she searched his notes around the circle, unable to make sense of them.
"What do you know about the tower's patterns so far? How are you testing it?"
He drifted over to her side to look at the map, standing an inch too close for comfort. "How much time do you have?"
She withdrew her hand and took a step back. "I have nothing but time." She had nothing but time and he had nothing but work to do. A plan began to form in her mind. "Perhaps... if you need it... I could be of some assistance? So I can report findings back to my father, of course."
She fully expected him to laugh in her face, to see right through the excuse, to tell her to run back to her father and keep standing around being useless while he did real work.
"Of course," he said instead. "I could use another set of eyes. All of my agents are out gathering information and ways to survive in the tower, they don't have time or the patience to listen to my theories."
She couldn't help but smile, cautiously excited by the prospect of finally having something helpful to do, even if it meant having to be around him.
"One condition though," said Wrathion. Her heart sank. Of course it was too good to be true. "You have to tell me what happened between you and Anduin."
Walking out was always an option. She could leave, never to see him or his stupid face ever again, but the thought of going back to the Enclave with nothing was worse than the prospect of spilling her secrets. The damage to her heart was already done, what more could the dragon do? He'd already done enough.
"Fine," she said, "I'll tell you."
Taelia went back to her room after the banquet alone, her slippered footsteps quiet against Stormwind Keep's flagstone floors. Her thoughts were loud, preoccupied with trying to explain away Anduin's odd, distant behavior. She prepared for bed, but didn't feel much like sleeping, deciding instead to distract herself with one of the books Anduin had lent her.
It must have been the early hours of the morning when she found herself startled from a doze by a loud noise outside her balcony. Her candle had gone out, but the moons were full and shining through the glass doors bright enough for her to locate her robe. She pulled it tightly around herself as she moved to investigate.
She could hear voices, muffled by layers of stone and glass. Without making a sound, she opened her balcony door and slipped outside, recognizing a familiar voice from the balcony adjacent to hers, the one that belonged to the king.
"GET OUT!"
She'd never heard Anduin so angry before. By instinct, she crouched down behind her railing in time to witness his balcony door slam open and Wrathion being shoved through. The dragon was unclothed, the only thing protecting his modesty was his coat which he held crumpled in a ball in front of himself.
"Anduin, listen! I just meant that--"
In an equal state of undress, Anduin followed him out, throwing one of the dragon's scale pauldrons at him. Wrathion dodged, the armor piece clanging on the ground before rolling over the edge of the balcony.
"Leave!" shouted Anduin. Even from her vantage point she noticed several blooming, bite-sized bruises across his chest and shoulders.
"Don't throw my--" The other pauldron went flying, hitting Wrathion square in the chest as he caught it. "Stop it! I'm going!"
Billowing black smoke gathered around him, the cloud growing in size before it dissipated in an instant to reveal his true form. He crouched on the railing, a dragon almost the size of the balcony itself, black scales iridescent in the moonslight. Taelia let out a small gasp without realizing, covering her mouth with both hands, and his predator's eyes flashed in her direction. She froze, but he looked away again just as quickly, leaving her unsure if he'd seen her or not.
Wrathion spoke in a much deeper, rumbling voice, sharp-toothed mouth not moving with the words, she could only guess that some sort of magic projected his speech.
"You know that I'm right, Anduin. I hope that it isn't too late by the time you decide to do something about it."
He leaned back, tilting off the balcony. She watched him fall, his wings unfurling just in time to catch the wind and lift him into the air, flying low as he glided silently over the walls and away.
She held her breath, hugging her knees to her chest as she listened to Anduin go back inside, closing his balcony doors behind him.
Taelia didn't know how long she stayed out there in the dark, processing what she'd just witnessed. Eventually, she reentered her guest room. She looked around at all the finery and felt even more out of place than she did the day she arrived. (Who was she kidding? She didn't belong in Stormwind, she never would.)
She left on the first ship to Boralus the next morning.