Chapter Text
The day Anduin was born, Varian made a promise to himself: he would never stand in the way of his child’s happiness.
By the time Anduin took his first breath, the prince had already made tremendous sacrifices for the sake of his people. The will of so many had been imposed upon him, stripping away much of Anduin’s bodily and personal autonomy. As he grew older he faced these circumstances with dignity, but Varian knew all too well the pain that came with attempting to conform to an impossible mold. Given their situation, the least a father could do was give their son the freedom to choose their own partner in life.
Varian just didn’t think Anduin would choose an Orc .
To Anduin’s credit, this Grantar Stormflesh - or, whatever - resembled a man more than he did a Gilnean hunting dog. Unlike the Orcs in his mind’s eye, this one’s features were not hidden beneath a flattened, scrunched-up face; his expression was wide, open, and easily discernible - friendly to a degree. His hair didn’t appear to have a fur-like quality to it either, falling in soft chocolate waves over wide, sturdy shoulders. And instead of possessing a bulky body capable of only brute bum-rushing, he was imposing without losing the grace necessary to out-maneuver an opponent in battle. Varian could see how Anduin’s smitten doe-eyes might have made sense in some strange, far off reality.
In this reality, the peace between the Alliance and the Horde stood upon a faulty foundation that threatened to crumble at any provocation. It was a miracle Sylvanas’ madness hadn’t torn the whole of Azeroth asunder. As ridiculous a notion as it was, there was something to be said for N’Zoth realigning and refocusing allegiances. Despite these efforts, Varian knew they had not made enough progress to allow for a high-profile marriage between an Orc and a human to go unchallenged. Not when every highbrow son, from Night Elf to Gnome, wanted Anduin’s hand for themselves.
(It was better than the alternative, Varian supposed. When N’Zoth revealed to Azeroth’s champions the anatomy Anduin had kept hidden beneath his transmogrified clothing, Varian had been so sure the noble houses would revolt over this perceived deceit. Not only had they accepted Anduin’s secret, but the Wrynn’s were shocked to discover an influx of marriage proposals at their front door.)
“Father?” Anduin pressed, pulling Varian out of his thoughts. His strained awkward smile didn’t quite reach his blue eyes. “Do you have anything you would like to say?”
Varian released a long breath through his nose. He pulled his clasped hands away from his mouth and leaned back against the Lion Seat. “Farseer Stormflesh, would you please excuse us for a moment?”
Anduin closed his eyes and hung his head. Grantar pursed his lips. There was no argument on either of their tongues, but once Grantar pivoted on his heel, Anduin placed a hand on his arm to pause his paramour. “Meet me outside the entrance to the keep,” Anduin whispered as if he had forgotten Varian’s superior hearing. “No matter what happens, I’m following you home.”
Varian bristled.
Grantar nodded. In a show of defiance, confidence, love, courage, or a combination of all four, the Orc leaned forward to place his forehead upon Anduin’s. After a heartbeat of this shared affection, Grantar exited the throne room with heavy steps.
Before Anduin could begin the impassioned speech he surely kept behind his teeth, Varian remarked coolly, “Your marriage would never go undisputed. You know this.”
“I do.”
“Any children you have will face an uphill battle to be recognized as royals by the court.”
“I know.”
“And yet you still plan on marrying him?”
“Yes, absolutely. I love him.”
Varian leaned forward despite the howling of his injuries, still tender years after his stint on The Broken Shore. He rested his elbows on his aching thighs. “And if I don’t accept this? What will you do then?”
Anduin’s steel eyes narrowed. The line of his lips stretched. His leather gloves audibly protested against the tightening of his fists. It reminded Varian that before him stood no small boy, no toothless cub, but a ferocious and quite determined lion .
Pride bloomed in Varian’s chest.
After a heartbeat, Anduin released the breath he had been holding. The lines of his body relaxed. Calm, collected, he replied smoothly, “I will walk out of this room to my beloved, and we will wait patiently until you’re ready to receive us.”
The notion caused the cracks in Varian’s heart to splinter further. He schooled his features to remain neutral; he would not push his boy further away - not again. “Even if that means abandoning the Alliance? Your friends? Your family?” ‘Me?’ went unsaid.
“No.” Anduin shook his head. “I have faith that one day everyone will see our marriage as a testament to the peace we have fought so hard to achieve. And though I know they will not have an easy time of it, our children will be the guardians of this new united Azeroth, Father. So, even if you don’t accept us now, I know you will someday.”
Nameless emotions, both positive and negative ones, warred inside of Varian. But in spite of what he felt at that moment, one truth remained: Varian had made a promise to himself.
Varian sighed, “I’ll have someone hired to arrange the ceremony.”
“Ah - Oh, um…,” Anduin hummed. His eyes shot to his toe tapping out an aimless beat. “You see, well, we were planning to have the ceremony in Orgrimmar. It’s only fair, after all.”
Varian’s eyebrow quirked. “Fair?”
Anduin peered up at his father through his blonde bangs. “Grantar would be coming to live with us since I can’t leave Stormwind. It would only be proper to allow his family to celebrate his mating before he sets off, right?”
Varian did not take Anduin’s plotting behind his back lightly, but there was a larger issue at hand. “You know what happens at the end of Orc mating ceremonies, right?”
Anduin at least had the decency to grow scarlet and cough into his hand. “Yes, but rumors exaggerate the process. There is a hut for privacy, and everyone will be outside waiting for us to come out. Until then, you can just ...ignore what is happening.”
Varian rubbed a hand over the entirety of his face.