How much more, how much more could I stand

[shalamayne]

Who: Anduin and anyone else!
When: Mid December onwards.
Where: The Lake and also at Anduin's house.
What: Trying not to drown. Also attempting Christmas dinner.
Warnings: Thoughts of drowning and death.



[ ʟᴀᴋᴇ, ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀᴀᴛʜɪᴏɴ ]

Anduin isn't sure what this place's angle is but what he does know is that snow is not as fun when having to deal with copious amounts of it. The weather seems insistent of keeping up and whilst most of the natives make comments about a "white Christmas" Anduin knows he's going to have to start shovelling the stuff just to get out of the house.

When he opens the door to do just that there's a familiar lurching sensation and a split second for Anduin to realise that this is going to end up with him being in that village again. It's happened enough times and yet not for the first time the place decides to change it up. The cold of the water is instant and brutal, sinking cruel fingers in as deep as they'll go. Visibility is down to almost zero and the urge to panic and flail is overwhelming as the reality of what is happening begins to sink in. He's in the lake and despite swimming in what Anduin believes to be the direction of up, there's no surface that seems to be there. There's just a layer of something and now the panic is starting to become real. It's ice and instinctively Anduin beats his fist against it, lungs burning as the lack of air starts to take its toll. He can't die here, not in a place like this! Not only would it be such an awful thing but it would mean this place would win! There are others who would need help in this place and Anduin knows that whatever is happening here he has to try harder. Normally he'd rely on the Light to guide him but there is no connection right now and Anduin simply uses sheer Wrynn stubbornness to try and break through the ice.

It takes a few more hits before he feels the ice give and he sticks his hand up, trying to grasp the edge of the ice to break it some more. Even with escape so close Anduin can feel his limbs and movements starting to slow down, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears a frantic reminder that time is not on his side.

[ ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛᴍᴀꜱ ᴅɪɴɴᴇʀ, ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀᴀᴛʜɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏʟꜰᴇ]

The whole Christmas event seems to be a mess, but one thing Anduin had read about briefly (and heard about) was that everyone was meant to get together to have a meal on the day. He doesn't think there's much worth celebrating in this place, but he does understand it's an amazing excuse to get some others inside for a talk.

Anduin even has ingredients to make a meal with and a list of instructions to hand. It seems simple though he has yet to start. Instead he's going to wait for the others to arrive if they're able to get through the snow. Others seem to have managed it as someone left a present in the shape of a wooden sword. Anduin knows it's from whomever received his request for Shalamayne, yet another joke from this strange town and yet he will keep it to hand for now. Maybe the one who sent it won't be laughing when a Wrynn comes bearing down on them with it; a weapon is still a weapon.

[ ᴡɪʟᴅᴄᴀʀᴅ ]

[ ooc; feel free to leave a top level or send a PM. happy to plot!]

Comments

Lake!

[blackscales]

Wrathion strongly dislikes the cold.

He's never felt so aware of it before, but here in this place the cold bites him to his core -- sinks into his bones and makes them ache. The temperature has been kept high in the house he shares with the man known as Wolfe, but consistently he finds himself thrown back into the village full of decorations. As if some foolish prankster is trying to convince him to have seasonal cheer by force. Well, they won't succeed. He only feels more against the whole thing with every teleport.

This time, however, something is different.

Wrathion, who has taken to doing up his jacket even in the house every time he exits a room now, opens the door to the kitchen and stumbles out into the snow again.

There's not a direct translation for the thought he has, but it's unpleasant enough to make Alexstraza herself blush.

The blizzard has certainly been gaining in strength, and being caught out in it feels not only unpleasant but borderline dangerous. Don't humans normally become sick in the cold? Without the heat of his draconic strength, will he succumb too? The thought is troubling, and without knowing exactly the curse placed upon him he can't begin to guess. Squinting through the driving snow, he tries to guess a direction and begins to walk. It's thick, white, nearly impossible to tell. The lights of the workshops and stands are all off, and he supposes he can't blame the villagers -- who would work in this weather? The snow crunches under his feet, and then Wrathion almost loses his footing.

Ice? Has he wandered all the way onto the rink? Another growling curse escapes him, and he almost turns away when he spots movement out of the corner of his eye. Someone else caught out, perhaps?

"Hello?"

He can't even tell if he's being heard above the howl of the blizzard. Sighing, Wrathion, tightens his scarf about himself and begins carefully stepping across the ice. The movement resolves itself more and Wrathion realises it's... low down. Low down enough to be someone laying on the ice? Or --

Or struggling half under the ice. His feet slip a little as he speeds up, sliding over and dropping down to help begin breaking it. How did they fall through? The gap is so small! Did they fall under elsewhere? Is the ice going to break under him.

"Hold on!" he says, and plunges his hands into the cold water to try and snap off more sections of ice.

Re: Lake!

[shalamayne]

In his struggles Anduin is only just aware that someone else is nearby, can just about hear the tone of someone's voice. He doesn't recognise who it is or what they are saying, he's too focused on surviving and not drifting off. Everything feel extraordinarily sluggish and slow almost as if Anduin was wading through treacle and each and every movement is becoming sheer effort. How easy would it be to just stop struggling and slip into nothingness? To simply let go? It's almost tempting and that thought alone galvanises Anduin into fighting all the more. No, he can't give up in this place!

The gap in the ice is quickly widened enough that Anduin can fit his head through it and he wastes no time in doing so, suddenly drawing in a great whooping gasp of air. Suddenly his limbs are full of pins and needles, burning from the sudden add of oxygen to the fray. Hands grip at the surface of the ice in sheer desperation, clinging on for dear life as Anduin struggles to pull himself out of the water. A part of him realises that Wrathion is there for some reason but he can't bring himself to focus on that right now. He's pretty certain something touched his foot, something that wasn't the biting cold and the sooner he's away from the lake the better. If only his body could keep up with his mind right now; all Anduin can manage is to cling to the ice, his lower half still submerged as he pants and shivers from cold and effort.

Help me out of this.. Anduin would like to think he spoke out loud, his mouth even opens to do so but can only manage an exhausted huff of noise.

[blackscales]

Anduin is shivering, and Wrathion is keenly aware that humans should not be cold and wet. They have no fur or scales to keep them warm, only thin skin and layers of clothing. He paws at handfuls of freezing cold fabric, trying to pull Anduin up further onto the ice.

"What are you doing in here?" he hisses, as if somehow this might have been a choice. "Hold onto me, come on --"

Somehow, he always thought Anduin would be lighter. He supposes the waterlogged clothing is adding weight, but although the young king wears heavy plate now he'd always had a smaller form. Has he grown? He was so slight in Pandaria. Wrathion leans back onto his heels, exhaling sharply with exertion as he tries to haul Anduin clear from the water.

[shalamayne]

If Anduin could articulate whole words right now he'd try out a sarcastic response to that question, as if he had chosen to throw himself under the ice wholly on purpose. But no, all the young King can manage are puffs of breath as he twists his hands into the fabric of Wrathion's outfit, doing his utmost to use the momentum to get out of the water and on to the ice.

It takes a good ten seconds before Anduin manages to place his knee on the ledge of ice and those ten seconds felt like an eternity, stretching out long enough that Anduin had almost panicked in the knowledge he wasn't getting out of this. The sensation of solid ground under his knee is almost missed in the midst of numb limbs and yet Anduin notices enough to start to haul himself out of the water completely with the help of Wrathion.

"D-door. Doorway."

Two words stammered out as Anduin's teeth begin to chatter. He doesn't have it in him for whole sentences yet and he hopes it's enough that Wrathion can figure out what has happened. He certainly didn't choose to be there clinging on to the other, subconsciously twisting his hands into fabric as if letting go would have him back in ice cold water in an instant.

"Just a moment." With that, Anduin simply rests his forehead against the black prince's shoulder as he tries to properly catch his breath. Everything else he can deal with later.

[blackscales]

Anduin is wet, and cold, and Wrathion can feel that wet cold permeating him even from just this little contact. He unwinds the scarf around his neck and begins blotting at blond hair, at Anduin's pale face and cheek as if he can dry him off enough with it to help.

"You're going to freeze, Anduin, we need to get you inside. Can you walk?"

Or is he too cold for that. Should he get him out of his wet clothes? Give him his jacket? The jacket will hardly help over cold wet clothes. Anxiety gnaws at him, and he frantically tries to soak up more cold water off Anduin with the dry ends of his scarf.

[shalamayne]

Walk? Like this? Anduin isn't even sure, he's almost comfortable right now face buried against Wrathion's shoulder like it's no big deal. If he hadn't been freezing to death he would have certainly given himself a harsh talk to think about his actions!

"I thi-hink so." Anduin hates the way his voice sounds right now, stammering and exhausted from pulling himself out of the water. He still manages to look up and around a little, wondering what direction he ought to be shuffling in. If he remembered right there were buildings near the lake but right now it's hard to focus his blue gaze on anything in particular.

Oddly enough things are starting to feel a little warmer. If Anduin had knowledge of the cold he would have been more alarmed by that than anything! He's only just aware that something is dabbing at his face, mildly surprised to notice it's the end of Wrathion's scarf. How long had the other prince been wearing that?

"Lead the way."

[blackscales]

Right.

Perhaps they can shelter here, first? Everything is closed up, but Wrathion can force the matter. He scrambles to his feet, squinting through the snow and trying to haul up Anduin with him.

"Let's try and dry you off," he offers, and makes to guide Anduin through the snow to the skate exchange. It's closest, and there should hopefully be something there he can use. Even if there isn't, at least it's out of the snow for the moment. The buildings must have heating, he thinks? Although the dark state of their surroundings suggests the power cut might have reached out here, too.

The anxiety gnaws more at his stomach, and he adjusts his arm around Anduin to try and keep him upright as they move carefully over the ice.

[shalamayne]

Drying off sounded good. Anduin is only vaguely aware he's soaking wet as well as cold; it's difficult to tell when he can barely feel fingers, toes or limbs and despite the exhaustion he manages to get to his feet with the help of Wrathion.

Each step is slow going as they make their way towards what Anduin hopes is a building. It feels as if he's having to wade through treacle, every lift of a foot more effort than Anduin feels like expending. The urge to simply sit down and rest is almost overwhelming and he tightens his grip on Wrathion's arm, fingers digging in tighter than he's aware of as he tries to keep track of what's going on.

It's difficult. It's almost like his mind is struggling to keep up with everything that's happening and the young King shivers at a gust of wind. Whatever happens he must keep going and simply trust that Wrathion will take charge for now.

"When did you get here?"

[blackscales]

"Not long ago, a door portalled me."

Something he would prefer hadn't happened, but then again if it hadn't he wouldn't have been there to fish Anduin out. Perhaps it is for the best, after all. Wrathion tries the door to the skate exchange, shouldering it a few times with increasing violence before managing to get the cold hinges to burst open. Inside, the light switch doesn't respond -- but at least it's shelter from the wind. That's... something. He guides Anduin over to sit down, begins rummaging around for towels to bring to him and rapidly removing wet layers.

"I'm afraid modesty will have to wait, we must get you dry."

[shalamayne]

A door portalled him? It takes a few long seconds before Anduin can even begin to understand the meaning of it. So just like himself, Wrathion has been brought here by sheer chance. Had he not, what would have happened? The thought would have sent a chill down Anduin's spine if he hadn't already been freezing and he allows Wrathion to lead him to the skate exchange.

"That was f-fortuitous."

Even though Anduin can no longer sense the Light in this place, he wonders if it still plays a part of if this whole thing was some sheer dumb luck. The pounding noise he can hear isn't his own head hurting but Wrathion knocking a door open and before Anduin knows it he's sitting on the ground, out of the wind and trying to catch his breath as he suddenly begins to shiver all the more.

If only he could just heal himself.

Anduin isn't so concerned about modesty right now, he even reaches down to try and remove his shoes, finding himself unable to navigate the laces with numb fingers.

"Wyll used to do this."

[blackscales]

Wrathion leans back as Anduin reaches down, trying to give him space, then clocks what he's doing -- fumbles to try and help with the laces himself. They're wet, and a little stuck together. His fingers keep slipping on them and he curses.

Wyll. Who's Wyll? The name is familiar. A servant, he thinks? He'll probably remember the detail later.

"No doubt I make a poor substitute," he admits, "but I fear it will have to do."

The lace finally catches between his nails and he yanks it loose, begins working off Anduin's shoe with little in the way of delicacy. The shoe is dropped aside, and Wrathion peels off the wet sock under it then begins rapidly towelling the moisture from Anduin's foot. It feels far too cold, as if he's trying to warm up a block of ice.

[shalamayne]

Anduin stares at his exposed toes, brows drawing into a frown as he wriggles them slightly. They move but he can't feel it, he can't feel any of it as Wrathion towels away at his foot. The hint of worry begins to make itself known and Anduin can't help but feel the concern that he may never warm back up again.

That and something else. What was it?

"You'll do." It's meant to be a joke but ultimately it falls a little flat and Anduin simply begins to fuss with his fingers at his other shoe. It's still awkward but he needs to know if this cold will ever go away or if he'll merely feel the biting sting of the ice forever.

Suddenly Anduin pauses in his motions, the only movement his shivering as he glances at Wrathion. His expression is almost clear for the first time since being pulled from the water.

"There's something in the lake."

[blackscales]

Something in the lake?

Wrathion has moved to begin impatiently helping Anduin with his other shoe, pulling at wet laces that are slipping through his fingers as he tries to get them off.

He pauses, looks up again and frowns as he works the shoe off.

"Something?"

The shoe is discarded aside, and he drags off the wet sock before beginning to rub Anduin's other foot quickly to try and dry it off.

"What do you mean by something?"

It doesn't sound like he means fish, after all. Something sounds like Anduin is worried, like Anduin is nervous about whatever it was.

And Christmas Dinner

[blackscales]

This has been a distressing few weeks.

While all the snowmen, creatures and bodies appear to have vanished Wrathion still feels on edge. The idea of having a nice Winter Veil -- sorry, Christmas feast seems bizarre. Yet apparently it's expected, and Anduin is suggesting so... he can't really say no, can he?

He could, but it's... complicated. The misadventure in the lake has him nervous about the limits of everyone here, the mortality of them, and accepting means he gets to keep an eye on Anduin.

That's definitely what it is.

He has a neatly wrapped box in his hands, and that equally only exists because he needs to blend in. Giving gifts at this time of year is a custom, and he simply doesn't want to draw attention by ignoring it.

Definitely the only reason.

The coat he's made himself is black with gold trim, and much better against the cold than his leather jacket had been. Less elaborate than the coat he wears at home, but he can simply adjust it as time and money allows. He shifts on the doorstep as he waits for someone to answer, squinting up at the sky as flakes of snow continue to settle on his tussled black curls. Cold weather truly is disgusting.

[shalamayne]

Anduin could agree with the last few weeks being an absolute royal pain. Everything in this place seemed difficult no matter how simple said things ought to be! He can't even tell if it's terrible like this on purpose or not and the idea to just go with it is difficult to do.

Unless it involves a tradition somewhat similar to that back home. Anduin has no idea on the meal aspect, but the gift giving he does know and there's a small, wrapped present to one side with Wrathion's name on it. The knock at the door has Anduin looking up from the recipe book, equal parts pleased someone made it and horrified that he's going to have to really do this cooking thing.

They're still scraping the remains of the last attempt from the oven.

The door is opened and Anduin instinctively begins to usher Wrathion in from the cold, taking a moment to make sure he's not missed anyone out before closing it. No point letting the warmth escape.

"You made it. I was starting to think that this place would conspire all the more against us."

[blackscales]

Wrathion steps inside quickly and begins shaking flakes of snow from his hair and coat, stamping a little off his boots.

"I did, although somehow I find little comfort in it. All the snowmen are gone."

He frowns, holding out the neatly wrapped box to Anduin. It's reasonably heavy -- the coat folded inside is long and well lined, of a wool-based deep blue fabric. He's not certain the golden alliance crest he managed to sew into it is his best job, but he had to work with what he had. Once it's out of his hands he begins shrugging off his coat.

"It has been quiet here, I hope?"

No more dead bodies, strange murderous creatures, lake adventures?

[shalamayne]

"One small mercy."

Anduin stops his comment about the snowmen when he notices Wrathion is holding out what looks to be a present. Really? For him? Despite the fact that gift giving wasn't a new thing, he hadn't actually given much thought to receiving something from Wrathion and he's momentarily caught off guard. Back home he had whatever he needed or wanted, in this place it's the opposite and Anduin can already tell that whatever the gift is, it will be as useful as it is treasured.

The smile Anduin gives is carefree, lingering despite the topic still focusing on terrible things. The box remains unopened for now as he gives a nod. Things have been quiet and whilst he's thankful for that it's a little disconcerting.

"They have been quiet for the most part. Enough time to be looking into this tradition they seem to hold at this time of year. Please, make yourself at home."

[blackscales]

Wrathion nods acceptance, hanging up his coat as he glances around. His gaze is sharp, as always, taking in atmosphere. The similarities, the differences.

"Should I not make myself useful," he suggests, unwinding his scarf to hang up alongside the coat. "Or is the cooking all attended to?"

The tradition, as he understands it, is a feast after all -- akin to Winter Veil. Will they be planning a full feast? He's not certain he's ever seen Anduin cook -- a young prince had no need to learn, and as a king less still. Had he learned, since Pandaria? Or are they... simply going to try their best, following a recipe?

Surely it cannot be hard.

[shalamayne]

The house, for what it's worth, isn't much changed from when Anduin had woken up there. He's made sure to keep it tidy where he can; no point letting things slip even if he doesn't want to be there and the novelty of doing one's own chores hasn't worn off yet.

"You are welcome to assist, though you are also welcome to make yourself comfortable."

Anduin is already placing the box to one side, casting a wary glance at the kitchen almost as if he's about to head into battle. How hard can it be?

He grabs the present he wrapped for Wrathion, holding it out for the other to take. It's a tailoring book for the current climate they are in, though a small, handwritten note on the inside of the cover says something else. They can't read the statement if it looks like their own.

"For you. It isn't much I'm afraid but I felt it would be useful."

[blackscales]

It's logical, on some level, that Anduin would offer him a gift. That is part of the whole Winter Veil tradition, after all.

Yet Wrathion still finds himself surprised. He holds the present warily, as if not quite certain what to do with it, then lifts his eyes back to Anduin.

"I... thank you."

He hasn't even opened it yet, but he's sure it will be a thoughtful gift. Wrathion suspects Anduin is incapable of giving a gift that isn't thoughtful.

Right, well, moving on.

"Well, what is our order of events? Should the gifts be enjoyed first or the feast prepared? I'm afraid I've never had much time for Winter Veil."

[shalamayne]

"My pleasure."

Anduin swiftly moves on too, taking note that Wrathion seems a little taken aback by the gift giving. As if Anduin would invite people over for a dinner during Winter Veil and not gift something! Though he's not sure if his taste works or not; no-one has ever gotten a bad present from him but Anduin isn't oblivious to the fact they could have just been polite to a young prince.

"Well, I need to put the bird in the oven to cook and then peel the vegetables. That way when the bird is almost done, we can put the vegetables in with it and they should cook at the same time."

Anduin pauses, casting a critical eye over the recipe book he has just picked up.

"Should. I think perhaps opening gifts in the down time then would work, but if you're excited we can open them now. There really are no rules, not here at least."

[blackscales]

"I can wait," Wrathion assures him. He's not an excited child! He's capable of patience!

Some patience. Sometimes.

He crosses to where Anduin is stood, gift held lightly to his chest as he looks over at the recipe book being inspected. The instructions seem... detailed.

"You have cooked this before?"

After all, he does sound quite confident. Perhaps Wrathion had been wrong about the young king's cooking experience? Perhaps learned at some point? Cooking is not a particularly essential skill for a dragon, but if he's to be stuck in human form he supposes he should learn better how to do such a thing himself.

[shalamayne]

Wrathion may be able to wait but Anduin knows there's excitement in the air. Even he's curious to know what's in the other box, just a little enamoured by the fact the dragon had remembered to bring something. No, he can wait, food won't cook itself.

"Well. No I have not cooked anything before, not like this. I am proficient in the bread that is cooked. Toast."

Anduin does his best not to look guilty at that admission, or says nothing on the fact his toast is just about edible. He picks the book up, holding it between Wrathion and himself so the other can get a look.

"Everything is listed clearly here and we have all the ingredients too. I think we are both capable of following instructions."

[blackscales]

Ah. Toast.

Technically, bread that is already cooked being grilled further.

Not exactly what he would term cooking, but Wrathion keeps that commentary to himself -- he is hardly better.

"It seems simple enough," Wrathion states, with all the confidence of someone who has absolutely never tried. Mortals cook food all the time! Surely it cannot be so hard? Especially with instructions! "I'm confident we could achieve something if we worked together."

Wrathion has learnt many skills over the years, perhaps it makes sense he should turn his hand to cooking next!

[shalamayne]

In Anduin's mind making toast counts as cooking; the ingredient is being subjected to a process which then makes it more edible. It counts!

He nods at Wrathion's words. Working together they should be able to overcome this and have something edible at the end of it all. Anduin would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forwards to this, the meal description in itself sounds delicious and he can already feel his stomach starting to quietly protest the fact he skipped breakfast.

"Okay if you would like to help then please peel the carrots over there and cut them into slices. I'll start by doing these potatoes. Between the two of us it should take no time."