his father.
“Young Anduin has a quiet strength,” Velen commented once the boy was gone. “A pity his father seeks to cage him as he does himself.”
“Varian nearly lost him more than once,” the archdruid remarked. “His fear that Anduin might vanish or be taken is not unfounded.” Malfurion frowned deeply. “Nor are his harsh words to Genn Greymane, I am sorry to say.”
“Genn will make amends for all,” Tyrande interjected. “You know that as well as I. We already know how much he sacrificed to get matters to this point.”
“But will it be worth it in the end? They nearly attacked one another. Genn came very close to losing control of himself, and with some reason!”
“Perhaps we should discuss this at another time,” the high priestess commented. “Velen, if you could—” But to the surprise of both night elves, the Prophet had surreptitiously departed the conversation, almost as if he knew the two were about to enter subjects best discussed purely between them.
“Well, we can trust Velen, that is for certain,” Malfurion murmured. Then, sobering, he added, “Tyrande, before you speak, I have to tell you—”
“He is the one, Mal.”
“I know Elune tells you so and I understand that it should be so, but you saw him! Varian could perhaps be the leader the Alliance needs, yet he also stands a very good chance of becoming the one who further guides it to disaster!”
“Varian is troubled, I agree—”
“More than troubled, though with good cause.” The archdruid tugged on his beard in contemplation. “And his disdain for Genn strikes me as being as much for himself as it is for the king of Gilneas. There was that in his tone that hinted more of self-reproach. . . .”
“I heard that, also.” The high priestess casually glanced to her side. “The others are beginning to leave. The banquet is over.”
“The banquet was a debacle. The others here have seen Varian proclaim the worgen unfit to be part of the Alliance! We cannot let that notion stand. . . .”
“I will go speak with the others. Perhaps you can do something with Varian.”
“Perhaps.” Malfurion could not hide his doubt concerning such a hope.
She put her hand on his. “Elune will guide us. Have faith.”
He grunted. “I of all people should, should I not?”
“Go. Speak with Varian.”
Malfurion knew better than to argue when she used that tone. They kissed, then the archdruid, with a bow to the remaining guests, followed after the king of Stormwind.
To someone who had slept in bug-infested cages and grimy, blood-soaked cells during his days as a slave and gladiator, the woodland quarters offered by his hosts seemed far too soft in comparison. Even Varian’s chambers back home were not nearly so calm, so peaceful. The king considered departing Darnassus for the relative familiarity of his confining quarters aboard ship, but respected his hosts enough not to insult them . . . or at least not insult them any more than he had with his denunciation of Genn Greymane.
Varian had no regrets there. In fact, he had a rather great satisfaction. He knew that he had behaved badly, but in Greymane he had found an outlet for some of the fire ever raging within him.
There was a knock at the door. The night elves had gone out of their way to make their guests feel at home, and so the chambers set aside for Varian and his retinue were fairly human in design and accommodations. Unfortunately, they still had that “nature” feel he always associated with those of the archdruid’s race. Far better were the oppressive stone walls of the keep.
One of the guards cautiously opened the door. Even in Darnassus, one did not take chances. Varian had already caught wind of something amiss, something that had happened just before his arrival.
Anduin and the two bodyguards sent to retrieve him entered. Varian, his heart lightening, went straight to his son.
“You had me worried!” To the two men, he growled, “Let this not happen again! Should any harm come to my son, I will have—”
“Leave it be, Father.”
Anduin spoke quietly, ever calmly, but still he did momentarily what no one else could: silence the king.
Recovering, Varian said, “Anduin, you must understand! You are the prince of Stormwind! Nowhere, not even here, should be considered safe enough for you to go wandering off! You always need at least a guard with you.”
“Yes. I’m not very good at defending myself,” the prince retorted. “I’m not the great warrior you are. You and Magni