Anduin's feet paced the halls of the keep anxiously, a nervous sigh on his lips as he waited. His stomach was in knots - something felt very wrong, like something terrible was only beginning to unfold, and he couldn't keep himself quiet about it. No longer was it possible for him to sit idle and reassure himself that there would be another time. It was now or never.

I have to tell him, he thought as he set off to a new destination, his figure tense, muscles aching and knotted with worry. His footsteps echoed tirelessly throughout the stone walled corridors, until they led him to the royal chambers. He opened the door with a shove and looked around slowly. The scenery was grand as ever, fine blues and golds of the Alliance decorating the bed and chairs, the frame of Varian's bed ornate with golden lions and filigree - fit for a King, naturally. Anduin let out a breath of relief as he heard the sounds of metal.

"Father?" Anduin called out, stepping inside and letting the heavy door close behind him. Varian came clattering out of his dressing room, clad in the lower half of his regal armor. His hair was left undone, a mess of mahogany waves that fell over his shoulders and down his back. He smiled warmly as he approached, but something about his welcoming expression wavered.

"Anduin," Varian greeted him, the casualness of his tone just forced enough to be obvious. Nobody else would have known anything was different about him - Anduin knew better. There was something wrong, and they both knew it. Varian simply wouldn't admit it - to keep him from worrying.

"Father," Anduin repeated, eyeing Varian over, a frown creasing his fair face. "You're really going," he observed, shaking his head.

"I have to," Varian said simply, reaching out to place a firm hand on his son's shoulder. "We cannot afford to wait for the Legion to make the first move, Anduin. You know that. I have to go," he said.

"No, you don't," Anduin protested, his features heavy with worry, "the people need you, father. They need a leader to guide them when the world is at its worst," he said. Varian only smiled for a moment, the expression stiff.

"You can be that leader," he said with reassurance, "I know you're ready, Anduin," Varian stated, "I can think of no one better fit to lead the Alliance than you," at that, Anduin stepped back, shaking his head, "and there's nobody I would sooner trust it to than my-"

"You can't leave," Anduin stated firmly, "don't talk about it like you're not coming back," Anduin said, swallowing around the anxiety in his throat. Varian simply stared at Anduin for a moment, his smile fading.

"I... I might not come back, Anduin," Varian said seriously, "I can't treat you like a child just to spare your feelings anymore. The honest truth is that I might not return," he stated quietly.

"Then don't go!" Anduin said, raising his voice a little as he looked up at Varian, the bright blue of his eyes flooded with fear, "I-I feel like if you leave, you won't come back," he stammered, reaching up to wipe at a cheek damp with tears. "I can't let you risk that," he said, his feet firmly grounded, "just stay here. Let the others fight. Please," he pleaded quietly, hanging his head, "please, papa."

"Anduin," Varian said quietly, stepping forward with a sigh. He reached out for Anduin's arm, only to have him pull back and away. "I can't just send my men to die," he said, "there comes a time when something so impossible threatens the world, that even the noblest of Kings are no longer justified in sitting back and watching."

"I can't," Anduin muttered, his hands grasped into tight fists. "I had a terrible feeling, father," he said, "and I know if you leave now, something terrible will happen," he shook his head, making his way for the bed and taking a seat on the edge, his body feeling heavy with worry.

"But those feelings of yours aren't always right," Varian said softly, "I know you get those... premonitions, sometimes. I can't pretend to understand them, but," he paused, shuffling over to take a seat next to Anduin, "you and I both know sometimes you let yourself get worked up for nothing," he said gently, looking over at Anduin curiously.

"But it isn't nothing this time," Anduin muttered, "I know it isn't," he stated, looking up at Varian, his brow creased. Varian frowned slightly, wrapping an arm around Anduin's shoulders and pulling him in close, his figure sturdy and strong. "Let me come with you," he pleaded quietly, "let me protect you, I know I'm capable," he uttered out helplessly.

"Anduin," Varian began quietly, "you need to stay here, at home. I know it's difficult to watch me go again, but if it comes down to it, I need you to be here, where you're safest," he said, closing his eyes as he felt Anduin leaning into his form, face buried into his shoulder. "And no matter what happens, I need you to be strong," he said quietly, "whether I come back or not, I need you to believe, like you always have," Varian said, his voice gentle and wise. "You are what the Alliance needs most right now," he stated, "not a battle-hardened warrior, but a diplomat," Varian gave a weak smile, a hand reaching up to hold Anduin closer to him as his figure shook just barely. "And I need to be there on the frontlines, with our people. I need to inspire them to fight to their last," he stated, Anduin's arms tight around his midsection. He stayed quiet, simply holding on for a long moment, savoring the sound of his heart and his breaths. There was nothing left to say. He could only hope that Anduin understood his intentions, that he could accept everything as he had.

"At least," Anduin broke the silence first, "at least let me fix your hair," he said quietly. "It's a mess," he said, smiling slightly as he pulled back - he was trying his best to maintain his composure. Varian smiled and chuckled softly, playfully shoving Anduin's shoulder.

"You always say that," Varian said with a snort, shaking his mane of hair out while Anduin got up to grab a brush and something to contain his locks with.

"Because it's true," Anduin said, "maybe it wouldn't be such a mess all the time if-"

"-If I brushed it," Varian finished with a sigh, "I know, I know," he said, while Anduin situated himself behind him, beginning to comb his hair back with some difficulty.

"Yet you never listen," Anduin chided, sighing as he brushed out the knots at the ends, working his way up slowly and patiently. "I'm going to miss this," he said quietly, the humour gone from his tone.

"Don't talk about it like I'm not coming back," Varian echoed, turning to look over his shoulder at Anduin, offering him a smile. For a moment, when he smiled, it really seemed as though there was nothing to worry about - that everything really would be ok, just because he said so. Anduin smiled back, however weakly, sighing as he pulled Varian's unruly hair back into a tail, wrapping it up and tying it securely. Varian turned, opening his arms for Anduin again, who didn't hesitate to lean in, holding him tightly. "I love you, Anduin," he said gently, "and I know you'll make a fine King, some day far in the future," he said softly, as he pulled back. "I have to finish getting ready," he said quietly, "take the bed and get some rest, son," he said gently, "you need it after all that worrying."

With that, Anduin nodded, pulling off his shoes and crawling up along the bed. There was a moment of fond recollection, of long gone nights, of him as a child, crying to his father that he'd had a bad dream. He remembered being safe here, of his father drying his tears and humming him to sleep - he didn't mind that he couldn't carry a tune to save his life. The thoughts lulled him slowly to sleep, disturbed only momentarily by a kiss on the forehead from Varian.

"It's time, Anduin," Varian said softly, the room now dark and quiet. "I promise that I will come back for you," he uttered. "I love you... I will always love you," and with that simple utterance, he was gone, nothing left surrounding him but shadows and silence.

Anduin set up in bed slowly, not sure if minutes or hours had passed since Varian had left him, his mind hazy with sleep. The night air was cold and still around him, chilling him to the point of shivers. He frowned, tears filling his eyes as his stomach dropped, the breath stiff and suffocating within his lungs. A sense of dread bled from the pit of his stomach and consumed the rest of his body, his mind heavy with terrible certainty. He sobbed openly, his fists clutching the blankets tightly as the realization dawned on him.

His father wasn't coming back.