(I haven't written in a long time and I don't think I can write long pieces anymore, but I hope its enjoyable, at least! Always looking for feedback and I'll likely revise more before putting everything together!)
Art by the fantastic @teallinum!
Wandermere, Northern Elwynn - 10pm
Golden lights danced in the dimly lit room, small hung braziers glowing warmly against the sandy, gilded walls. The air smelled of jasmine and dragon’s blood and the smoke wafting from the censers intermingled with the hazy flow from the hookahs nestled around the room. In some aspects, one might see this as a gathering of powers across Azeroth.
Chieftain Thrall and his mate, Aggra, curled up together next to Lady Proudmoore and the Blue Aspect, Kalegos. Each one wore a specially tailored silk robe akin to the garb they normally donned. While the four kept in quiet conversation, smiles crossing their faces, there were more somber folks in attendance.
Monte Gazlowe, recently returned from the chaos of Undermine, talked only of business to his ruby-haired companion, the host of this particular little party. A woman with violet eyes, typically full of mirth, was melancholic as they toasted lost friends.
One guest, however, strayed away from the group, quietly nursing a hookah of his own in the back corner of the room. The formerly lost King of Stormwind laid back against the cool sheets of a plush bed, drawing in a deep pull before letting the smoke billow over his head. He seemed content, at least, if not a little lonely.
Perhaps that’s why she made the call.
Gazlowe’s business partner was more than such, and the half-elf couldn’t bear to see the king isolating himself even after reconnecting with his friends. Maybe it was the intimacy of the situation? A warm, cozy room, everyone draped in expensive robes and lounging about the various settings…It must seem quite foreign to him.
The woman excused herself for a moment, sending a servant for more tea and stepping out of the room to place a call over a communications device. It was only a few minutes before a portal opened nearby, and she was, truthfully, surprised he’d taken so long.
From the arcane glow stepped the Black Prince, dashing as always, though looking a bit caught off guard to those who knew him. She explained the situation, and he changed his attire in a puff of smoke to match the robes of the others in the room, though he’d held them shut with his hand rather than a tie, tucking his arm across his torso as the pair made their way into the room.
The quartet of leaders regarded him softly, with only Kalegos rising to meet him as they spoke in hushed voices. Even so, the Blue dragon could see his young friend’s gaze catching onto the reason he was there. As he returned to the group, Wrathion crossed the room, realizing he had no idea what to say to his long lost friend.
Anduin hadn’t seemed to notice, or was too lost in thought to pay a newcomer any mind. Which suited the Black dragon just fine. It was easier to fall into conversation when he caught the other unaware.
Only when the hookah pipe was taken from his hand and the weight on the bed shifted did the king open his eyes. And from the looks of them, Wrathion had been the last person he’d expected to see.
The younger man couldn’t help the coy smirk which curled itself into his lips, gazing down at the shocked blond with a playfully fond look. It was a moment before either of them spoke, the dragon’s fiery eyes taking in the other man’s rough appearance. Blue eyes, conversely, seemed to be calculating whether or not he was real.
Warm, tender notes passed between them as the darker man finally spoke.
“It’s been too long…old friend.”
