BEYOND THE STARS [2]

DENSITY

QUEST OBJECTIVE: Comfort (or seduce?) a king. 

— S T O R M W I N D —

Flames crackled in the hearth, filling the silence. The light danced upon strands of Anduin's golden hair as Eona stroked it. She had to drag him away from the hearth when they first entered the room: a bed was far more comfortable than the marble tile. Now he lay in her arms, hugging her torso.

Varian's funeral — public and private — had taken up most of the day. Eona hadn't a clue how Anduin survived both in a handful of hours.

First, she had stood by his side (disguised in her human form, of course) as they visited the late Queen Tiffin's memorial. Genn Greymane, Moira Thaurssian, and Prophet Velen attended. Then Anduin addressed the thousands gathered at Lion's Rest.

"You're so strong," Eona whispered, combing his hair with gentle fingers.

"I'm not," Anduin said. He didn't look up from her black-collared shirt. "It doesn't feel that way."

"I'm sure it doesn't," said Eona. "but you did some incredible things today. I think you amazed everyone."

Anduin trembled in her arms. Eona hadn't seen him in this much physical pain since the bell in Pandaria. She wanted to help him, to solve everything with her bare hands and summon a smile back to his face. It stung that she couldn't.

"You acted quickly to honor him, and the others. That says something to people," said Eona.

Anduin shook his head. His nose brushed her collarbone. "He deserved more...he deserved a proper burial, not an empty casket...I wanted to crawl into the ground beside him."

Eona's grip tightened on him. She was glad Anduin's face was still buried in her shoulder. He couldn't see the face she made. Her insides ached with each tremor of his shoulders.

The idea of sharing Sylvanas' "promotion" was like pointing a knife at Anduin's back. Eona had tried to refuse Sylvanas in private — but her interaction with the Illidari only made things worse. As much as Eona loathed to tell Anduin with his low morale, it was too high a position not to tell him. If she didn't, one of his advisors would. Advisors.

Eona's eyes widened slightly, glancing down at the sobbing king in her arms.

A funeral and a coronation in one...it's like a cruel joke.

"You know he wouldn't want that for you," said Eona. "He wanted you to live your life."

Eona pictured Varian Wrynn as she had last seen him. Leaning against his sword, his skin shining from a thin layer of sweat. He had a strange calm that she had only seen Anduin omit before, where the world seemed to stop around him, grounding itself.

Even when Varian learned who she truly was.

"I saw him. Before...he saw me like this."

The tremors stopped. Anduin was a still statue in her arms. He slowly picked his head up from her shoulder. His cheeks shined with rivers of tears. "What did he do?"

Eona smiled, and felt heat in the corners of her eyes. "He said redheads are a handful, and asked where we wanted to meet for a meal afterward."

The sound of the flames licking at pine logs in the fireplace was the only sound in the room. Somehow, Eona hardly noticed the smoky smell. Her nostrils were full of the scent of Anduin: lavender and incense.

"He didn't...disapprove?" Anduin swallowed.

Eona shook her head once. "No. Not outright, at least."

The room was suddenly colder as Anduin sank out of Eona's arms. He sat across from her, their knees brushing together. Anduin held one of her hands with his own. Her fingers were smaller, pinker, and far more calloused than his. Anduin's touch was soft as silk.