darthneko
22 September 2017 @ 11:38 am
End of the Love is in the Air festival fic, continued from part 1 and part 2.

Twenty-eight bracelets. By the end of the week there were twenty-eight of the things, all laid neatly in a carven wood box with velvet lining that had taken up residence in a drawer in Anduin's office. His mates were, no doubt, looking forward to seeing their last efforts on him that evenings; Ren had remarked that it was a good look, and he hoped Anduin might occasionally continue wearing them after the festival.

It was the last evening of the festival, the flower and sweet sellers finally closing up shop and taking stock of their sales. The festival merchants were taking down the temporary stalls set up in the market squares. And the King of Stormwind had, through much arranging, several hours of free time without interruption, a spool of gold jewelry wire, and a set of the small tools that the festival merchants had been happily selling all week.
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darthneko
21 September 2017 @ 10:01 am
I should start titling these. And I was going to finish up the charm bracelet prank, but Brewfest started last night, and the headcanon for Brewfest just sort of unfolded along the way, so here's the start of THAT, and I'll get back to the charm bracelet and the wedding and all that soon. It's all Pandaren and Anduin all the time anyways, I'm just scene jumping! =P

Oria is another original character, btw - part of the Wildhammer clan, she was the first foreign ambassador Anduin appointed to his council and paved the way for including one ambassador from each of the Alliance races to balance out the otherwise overwhelmingly human-centric House of Nobles. Oria has it in her contract with Anduin that she is exempt from all council meetings during the two-week duration of Brewfest. For "traditional cultural festivities" (and the attendant hangovers).



The dwarf caught at Anduin's sleeve, his brows drawn down in a dark frown. "Not so fast, lad," he huffed. "It ain't just th' wee ones that need t' prove they can sit a saddle before they go takin' my rams anywhere."

Something flickered across Anduin's face, there and gone again so fast it was easy to miss, before smoothing into the polite facade that was most often presented to the House of Nobles. "Of course," he agreed.

At Ren's elbow, Oria made a pained noise. "Oh no," she groaned, shoving her tankard aside and making to rise to her feet. "He must not recognize..."

"Leave it," Ren advised, pressing a hand to her shoulder to push her back into her seat. "Anduin will handle it."
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darthneko
20 September 2017 @ 09:23 am
(continued from yesterday)

It was late into the audience hours when the royal Consort and his cousin unexpectedly turned up in line.

Anduin almost had to look twice when their names - sans title or any other fanfaire - were called, the surprise making him slow. They were both of them in travel clothes, leathers worn smooth and supple, ragged and stained, the sort of clothes for hunting, fishing, and sleeping out on the road. They had obviously been out somewhere; Elwynn forest, Anduin suspected, part of Hardwire's ongoing campaign to train Ren back into some semblance of fitness after the birth of the babes. There was dirt and what looked like fresh blood stains on their clothes, and there would probably be venison or roast boar on the dinner table.

Dirty and disheveled, and Ren, at least, was visibly tired, and both with small gift boxes in hand and the most shit-eating grins Anduin had ever seen. He didn't, in that moment, know whether to kiss them or box their ears.
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darthneko
19 September 2017 @ 09:37 am
No writing yesterday - was home being sickly. =P That'll teach me not to overdo the unpacking while dehydrated. And now, just to prove how many fic bits I can juggle all at once, here, have a bit about the first Love is in the Air valentine's holiday after the launch of the Legion expansion.... (because my muses are random bastards who jump around and this was what Anduin felt like giving me this morning =P)

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"Good morning, your Majesty," was the first warning he had, a little too bright and cheerful, the throne room guards all smiling a little too broadly. Anduin shook his head ruefully.

"Already?"

The senior guard grinned, utterly unrepentant. "It's not so bad, sir.... yet."

"Yet," Anduin echoed dubiously. His willingness to play along with the game made their smiles broader still, both guards moving to sweep back the doors to the throne with more enthusiasm than strictly necessary.

The audience line had already formed, which didn't make it that different from most days except for the composition of the line - even at a glance Anduin could count more mercenaries than tradesmen, when usually it was the reverse. It was the throne itself that was the source of the guards' amusement; or rather, the two small wrapped boxes resting there, given place of pride on the cushion.

Anduin plucked them from the throne. The gift boxes fit in his palm, heavier than they looked, with a metallic sort of jingle to them. "Only two?" he noted, jesting.
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