have already seen how badly I handle a sword, even in practice.”
“I didn’t mean—”
The prince sighed. It was a sound Varian heard often and usually because of something he had done out of concern for his son. “No, you don’t. You never do, Father. I’m back, safe and sound. As usual.”
“Anduin—” Against any foe, the king could stand resolute in his next move. Against his son, he constantly floundered.
“Good night, Father.” The prince walked on, following his guards to the room set aside for him.
As unsettling as the conversation no doubt had been to their guards, Anduin had actually kept it from getting worse by cutting it off. Varian knew that—could even appreciate it—but that still did not ease the sting of his son’s obvious reprimand.
Now the serenity of the night elven dwelling finally proved too much for him. “Stay here,” he commanded the guards, aware as much as they that he was placing them in a similar position as when Anduin had not remained with the party. “I need to walk.”
They knew better than to argue. No longer paying them any heed, Varian strode out. However, like in his quarters, the tranquility of the capital did nothing to ease his heart. Instead, he stared at the forest beyond.
His pace quickened. The wilderness beckoned.
“King Varian! I was just coming to see you.”
The human hid his disappointment, though for a moment his eyes lingered longingly on the trees beyond the city.
“Archdruid,” he responded, finally acknowledging his host. “My thanks for our quarters. They will do just fine.”
“Which is why you had to flee them at the first chance,” the night elf returned with a slight smile. “Please. I will not stand on ceremony with you. Call me Malfurion.”
“Then I’ll ask you to call me Varian.”
“As you wish. If you do not mind, I hoped to have a word with you.”
The lord of Stormwind exhaled. “My sincerest apologies for ruining your banquet.”
“The banquet is of no consequence. The gathering is. You appreciate bluntness, Varian. I am more concerned about your confrontation with Genn.”
The mere mention of Greymane’s name stirred the embers within. Varian’s pulse pounded. “I’d prefer not to speak about that, Malfurion.”
The night elf would not be dissuaded. “Varian, I must ask you to consider everything that happens before, during, and after the summit in light of what Azeroth has become due to the Cataclysm. Each choice we make has to be carefully weighed.”
“You’re referring to the induction.”
“Of course. I hope you will see reason—”
The king no longer had any desire to head to the forest. Is there nowhere I can be free?
Malfurion was clearly intent on pressing forward with his point. Varian could see only one way to at least end the conversation.
“I’ll give Genn and the worgen a fair consideration. You have my word.”
Malfurion heard the finality in his voice and wisely accepted the answer as it was. “Thank you, Varian. That is all I can ask—”
Another figure intruded upon them. Varian fought down his impatience with the seemingly never-ending situation. His trained eyes took in the newcomer, who, though a night elf, was dressed in a colorful outfit that the king thought Malfurion surely also found gaudy.
“Archdruid Stormrage,” the other greeted solemnly.
“Var’dyn.”
Varian’s sharp ears caught a slight inflection in the night elf’s voice, as if the archdruid not only knew what this other figure wanted . . . but dreaded it for some reason.
Exactly what the other elf was finally registered with Varian. He recalled the reports. So this is a Highborne.
The Highborne barely seemed to notice the human. The king recalled the apparent arrogance of Var’dyn’s kind. He also remembered that they were magi . . . and reckless ones at that.
The archdruid said, “I thank you for your time and your reply, Varian. I look forward to speaking with you further.”
The king took advantage of the situation. “Naturally. Forgive me now; I must be going. Good evening.”
He did not even acknowledge the Highborne as he left, thinking that the other elf did not deserve any better than he gave. Varian gratefully departed the pair, silently wishing he had never sailed from Stormwind.
A slight movement in the trees nearby caught the corner of his eye. Varian did not focus on it, aware that by the time he turned the source would be gone from sight. Besides, the king was fairly certain just what had been lurking at the forest’s edge.
His scowl deepened. Under his breath, he muttered, “Damned worgen.”
Var’dyn did not speak until the human was long