I’m just going to base fifty thousand fics off of Garona saying, “I can’t see how you humans survive such a thing,” while looking at Khadgar.
Lothar* (lol)/Khadgar | Teen/Mature? |
Khadgar is powerful, but he is not strong. Not in the way that Lothar is strong.
Not in the way that Garona is strong.
When Lothar grabs him, he is soft and pliant. When Lothar grips Khadgar’s hips, the body yields easily to his touch.
Khadgar does not fight him, does not want to fight him, could not fight him. He gives in and gives himself up without bluster or shame and Lothar could not do the same.
His power too lies in this, in acceptance and the pursuit of truth, of happiness. Concepts that Lothar finds foreign, and he doesn’t understand how it can be otherwise for someone with Khadgar’s background.
But flesh meets flesh easily.
Lothar’s hipbones press into the meat of Khadgar’s ass like they were made to fit together.
And maybe Khadgar knows something that Lothar doesn’t.
Pairing: LionTrust (Khadgar/Lothar)
WC: 4625
Summary: To leave the most prestigious society of mages, one was expected to make a fitting sacrifice. The words that he spoke to renounce his vows would be the last to ever leave his lips. Because without his voice, he would no longer be able to use is magic.To leave the Kirin Tor, Khadgar had to give up the biggest part of himself.Just when things seemed to hit their worst, a mysterious stranger came to save him from the hell he was living.
A/N: That's the end, folks. I just want to take a moment to say thank you to each and every person who took the time to read this story, especially those of you who have reblogged, liked, and left such lovely comments. I was nervous to write for this fandom; it's definitely a little outside what I normally write (as are sex scenes lol), so it was amazing to have such an awesome out poor of support. I appreciate your patience towards the end of this story, and am sorry that updates ended up so spread out. Hopefully the ending was to your liking. (: I'm hoping to write more for this fandom soon, once my schoolwork slows down a bit, and if you've got anything you'd really like to read, shoot me a message! I love prompts (especially soulmate AUs. they are the way to my heart). Until then, thanks for being so welcoming and it's been a helluva ride.
Warnings: Mentions of abuse (physical, emotional, sexual), later mentions of rape/sexual assault, nothing super graphic but enough that warnings are needed.
First | Previous
Lothar could practically feel the tension and nervousness rolling off Khadgar as they lay together the night before Llane’s ceremony was due to take place. He’d been a mess since Llane had brought it up. He’d barely slept, and he’d been so distracted that Lothar had witnessed him walk into walls, only to apologize and keep walking. He knew he was pretending to sleep now, too. Didn’t want to worry Lothar, but Khadgar had never been very good at hiding things from him.
Lothar reached an arm around the mage, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Why are you nervous, love? The people adore you.”
“They tolerate me,” Khadgar argued. “And what if they don’t think I can live up to—to what Medivh was? What if I let them down?”
“You won’t,” Lothar said seriously, arching his neck so he could look Khadgar in the eye. “Even Medivh was impressed with the power you possess, Khadgar.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “Next to him, I’m nothing. The magic I can do is nothing but child’s play.”
Lothar sat up, pulling the mage with him. He made sure he had his full attention, their eyes locked together as Lothar rubbed gentle circles on his palms. “Power doesn’t refer solely to the spells you can perform; to your connection to the arcane. You have a willpower, a strength, that is stronger than anyone I know.”
Khadgar sighed deeply, shoulders relaxing for the first time in nearly three days. “I just don’t want to let them down.”
“You won’t,” Lothar said firmly. “And you won’t have to do this alone, either. We’ll all be right behind you, every step of the way.”
“I know, and I’m incredibly grateful. I don’t know that I could do this without you, Anduin.”
Lothar leaned forward, his hands finding their way into Khadgar’s soft hair. He pulled him close enough that their breath melted together, and held him there. He studied him; his eyes, which were filled with so much hope, and wonder that they took his breath away constantly; his gentle lips, with so many amazing things to say that Lothar could’ve wept for the years of silence. He could see Khadgar squirm slightly under his gaze, but it didn’t falter. He wanted to memorize every detail.
Finally, slowly, Lothar brought their lips together. The kiss wasn’t rough, or desperate. It was soft, and lazy. They had the rest of their lives together, Lothar knew. He couldn’t imagine spending a day without the other man; he couldn’t even imagine his life without him. He’d almost lost Khadgar once before, and he was never letting him go again.
“I have an idea,” Lothar breathed against his lips. “Something that might help calm your nerves.”
“Oh?” Khadgar asked, flushing a beautiful pink that brought attention to exactly what those words could imply. As tempting as that option was, especially with the look Khadgar was giving him, Lothar knew it wouldn’t help him the next morning.
“Why don’t we go see what they’ve prepared for tomorrow? I know the grandeur of a ceremony like this can be intimidating if you don’t know what to expect.”
“Is that allowed?”
Lothar smiled, “Probably not. It’ll be our secret.”
Khadgar wasn’t so sure if it was a good idea for the new Guardian and the King’s right hand man to be sneaking into the Cathedral. Frankly, he was shocked it wasn’t more well-guarded with the secrecy the King was maintaining about what the announcement was actually about. The last thing he expected was for them to be able to walk straight in, Lothar pulling him along with a childish excitement flaring in his eyes.
The Cathedral was lit on the inside, as always, with hundreds of candles enchanted to never stop burning. The flames cast a dull light across the grand room, which was even more breathtaking than usual. The pews had been lined with beautiful gold and blue silk, and they stood at the foot of a long blue and gold carpet leading to the large elevated platform at the head of the Cathedral. It had even more candles than usual, and marvellous gold lion statues.
Blue and gold was everywhere. The colours of Stormwind. The colours of the Alliance. It felt so welcoming, like he was finally being given a place to call home. And he was growing rather fond of blue—it was much more comforting than the deep purples of the Kirin Tor.
“I can’t believe this is all for me,” Khadgar whispered into the darkened room. “It’s… so beautiful.”
“That’s Llane for you; he always did like putting on a show. You should’ve seen his wedding.”
Khadgar giggled, “I remember hearing about it. Some of the superiors said it was ‘useless splendour.’”
“They were just jealous they weren’t invited,” Lothar teased. “Why don’t you go stand on stage, prepare yourself for what you’ll be facing tomorrow.”
Khadgar did as he was told, climbing the stairs to the stage. Each step felt heavy, and his heart pounded in his chest even now, with Lothar his lone audience member. He just couldn’t shake the nervousness sitting heavy in his throat. Still, he walked to center stage and looked out, imaging the crowd of people who would stare back at him tomorrow.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” he said miserably, shoulders drooping in defeat.
“I’ll be right there next to you,” Lothar promised. “You won’t be alone.”
Khadgar wished it made him feel better, and he guessed it did on a deeper level. It didn’t, however, help the queasiness in his stomach. “Can we go home?” He asked, his voice small and weak.
In a moment, Lothar was at his side, an arm around his waist, leading him off the stage and far away from the Cathedral. It wasn’t until they were safely back in Lothar’s room that he finally felt like his heart was no longer in his throat and his stomach on the floor.
“I’m going to panic and screw it all up.”
“You won’t,” Lothar said, and he sounded so sure Khadgar could almost believe him. Almost.
“I just… I can’t do it, Anduin. I can’t face all those people knowing I killed Medivh,” he said, his breath coming in short puffs. He could feel his chest tightening in fear—a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long while.
“You didn’t kill Medivh. You killed a demon that stole the body of Azeroth’s Guardian,” he grabbed Khadgar’s face between his hands, slightly rougher than usual. “You. Did not. Kill. Medivh.”
“Then why can’t I stop dreaming about it? Why can’t I stop feeling so guilty all the time?” Khadgar shouted, letting his anger and frustration explode on Lothar. He regretted it already, but didn’t stop. “I can’t be the Guardian, I’m barely able to keep myself safe. Until you came along, I wasn’t able to keep myself safe!”
“Khadgar,” Lothar said quietly, no anger or hurt in his voice. Just sadness. “You are going to make a great Guardian, one Medivh would be proud of. I know it’s hard to displace him from the creature we fought, but with time… with time you’ll be able to make that distinction. Until then, I’ll be here to hold you when you wake up from those dreams in the middle of the night. We’ll get through this—together.”
He lifted Khadgar’s hands to his lips, brushing a kiss to his knuckles. Even the small gesture helped him relax. Made it easier to breathe. Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, Lothar’s lips travelled up his arm, over his shoulder, up his neck. Finally, along his jaw until their lips met and Khadgar felt his worries fade away.
Lothar’s lips were rough, but soft at the same time. Just as much of a contradiction as the rest of him. Khadgar could feel the hesitance in his kiss, still. He could feel the doubt; feel the worry. Lothar didn’t want to hurt him, but Khadgar was getting damn tired of everyone walking on eggshells around him. He wasn’t about to let his past get in the way of what he wanted.
And right now, he wanted Lothar.
So, in a spur of confidence he really wasn’t used to, Khadgar deepened their kiss. His hands moved into Lothar’s hair, and he pulled him closer while adjusting their position just enough that he could climb into Lothar’s lap. He felt the surprise at the act come through in the kiss. Again, Lothar hesitated. Again, Lothar tried to draw back. This time, Khadgar wasn’t going to let him.
He rocked his hips, pressing down into Lothar. Uncertainty and nervousness curled in his stomach—the fear of rejection back despite his better judgement. But Khadgar barely had time to panic as his movement pulled a deep moan from Lothar. He felt more than heard it, Lothar’s chest vibrating with the sound. Khadgar did it again, just to see what happened. Again, Lothar moaned. But this time, his hands moved down and away from their ‘safe’ place on his hips to cup his ass—it was much better. He was definitely pleased with the results.
He pulled away from the kiss, panting and in desperate need for air, but he didn’t pull away from Lothar. He kept their faces close enough that their lips still brushed when they breathed. Once again, he rocked his hips downward.
The look in Lothar’s eyes, accompanied by the guttural moan, was something Khadgar really wanted to get used to. He couldn’t help but smirk at how easily he was able to turn Lothar on. His smug look only made Lothar’s eyes darken more, and his hands moved back up to Khadgar’s hips. He gripped tightly, and smiled mischievously before pulling Khadgar down, pressing his own hips up at the same time.
He wasn’t expecting it, and fuck if Lothar didn’t know what he was doing. Khadgar couldn’t stop the high whine that escaped his lips. “Lothar,” he gasped, hands tightening into fists in the older man’s hair. The sound seemed to snap Lothar out of his lust, and concern crossed his gaze.
“Khadgar,” he panted, “we should… I don’t think this is wise.”
“I want you,” Khadgar moaned. “I’m not broken, Anduin. I trust you, and I want you.”
“It’s a big day tomorrow.”
“Yes, so please. Take my mind off it.”
“Khadgar…” Lothar sighed.
“Anduin, I’m serious. We didn’t want to rush into this, so we didn’t. But I’m ready now, and I want you. I want to feel you.”
“Fuck,” Lothar hissed, and his grip on Khadgar’s waist tightened. “You’ll tell me if you need me to stop, or if I do anything wrong?”
Khadgar smiled sweetly, hand moving down from his hair to gently cup his cheek. He pressed a soft kiss to Lothar’s lips. “Of course.”
Lothar nodded, and leaned in to reconnect their lips. It wasn’t as desperate now, but it was deeper, lazier. They had time, and neither of them wanted to rush this. They’d waited too long to rush it.
As they kissed, Lothar’s hands danced along the hem of his shirt. Slowly, his fingertips slipped underneath, and he gently eased the material up until it was bunched under his arms. Khadgar pulled away from the man long enough to pull the shirt fully off, and Lothar smartly removed his own at the same time.
Khadgar studied his bare chests, the scares that littered the surface. He let his hands roam the warm skin, bending down to press gentle kisses to Lothar’s shoulders and neck. In a fluid motion, Lothar flipped them around, pinning Khadgar to the bed and already beginning to explore his pale skin.
Khadgar tried not to think about the scars that littered his own skin. His weren’t battle wounds. His weren’t scars to be proud of, but ashamed of. His scars showed how weak and defenseless he once was. He squirmed under Lothar.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathed against Khadgar’s skin. “Absolutely beautiful.”
He didn’t say anything, because he didn’t know what to say. Instead, he let himself get lost in the feel of Lothar’s hands roaming his skin, moving slowly farther down and towards the growing hardness in Khadgar’s pants.
When his hands finally, finally, reached the waistband of his pants, Khadgar’s breath hitched and his hips buckled upwards. “Anduin,” he breathed, “Anduin, please.”
He felt Lothar smile against his skin, fingers dipping under the fabric for a fleeting moment before roaming back up his chest. Khadgar groaned, and pushed his hips up, basically begging to be touched.
His desperation just made Lothar smile bigger. He used the hand that wasn’t teasing gently over Khadgar’s nipple to hold his hips down, and Khadgar practically growled in frustration.
“Please,” he moaned.
This time, when Lothar’s hand dipped into his pants it didn’t pull away. This time, it moved farther down, tracing along his hipbones and towards his rapidly growing erection. When Lothar finally wrapped his fingers around him, all the breath left Khadgar’s lungs. His eyes squeezed shut, and his fingers tightened in Lothar’s hair.
“Good?” Lothar whispered against his neck as he began pumping.
Khadgar couldn’t think clearly enough to form words, so he just nodded. Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Lothar continued his stroking, his lips dancing across Khadgar’s chest. With each kiss, each movement of his fist, Khadgar could feel his vision blurring, and his orgasm getting closer.
“Stop,” he gasped. Instantly, Lothar’s hand was out of his pants and he was on the other side of the bed, leaving Khadgar cold and confused. “Anduin?”
“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” He asked nervously.
“What? No,” Khadgar flushed deeply, “I just… I didn’t want it to end yet. I want…”
Lothar raised an eyebrow, moving back up the bed until they were almost touching, he reached out, hand still slightly hesitant, and stroked Khadgar’s cheek. “What? What do you want, love?”
“You,” Khadgar spit out. “I want to feel you.”
“Are you sure?”
Khadgar nodded quickly, “I trust you. I’m ready.”
“Tell me if it’s too much. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
Lothar smiled, and kissed him gently. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
When Lothar’s hands found their way to his waistband this time, they didn’t sneak underneath. This time, they tugged the cloth downward, over Khadgar’s erection, until Lothar was able to pull them off and chuck them across the room. Khadgar suddenly felt very naked, and self conscious. He squirmed under Lothar’s gaze, feeling himself flush. But Lothar wasn’t looking at him with disgust. Rather, his eyes were dark with a lust Khadgar hadn’t seen in a long time. But the look in Lothar’s eyes wasn’t like the ones he was used to seeing on the men that used him, because lingering under that lust was love.
Lothar loved him. He was safe. He was happy.
Khadgar reached out for him, grasping at the air until Lothar got the hint and sunk back into his grip. Khadgar pulled his head down quickly, kissing him with a greedy need that he didn’t know he had. His hands moved away from Lothar’s hair, and towards his pants. Khadgar fumbled with the button, determined not to break the kiss. After only a bit of a struggle, he succeeded.
His stomach fluttered as his hand slipped under the material. This was new territory for him, but Khadgar supposed it couldn’t be too different than doing it to himself. His hand moved with more confidence than he felt, not surprised to find Lothar already hard and leaking precum. As soon as Khadgar’s hand wrapped around his erection, Lothar pulled away from the kiss to let out a long moan.
The sounds he made only helped Khadgar’s confidence, and he started to twist his wrist and vary the speed of his strokes. It was what he liked, so he could only hope it was good. Judging by the look on Lothar’s face, it really was.
It wasn’t long before Lothar’s gripped his wrist tightly, stopping his hand. Khadgar looked up, worried he’d done something wrong, but saw only hunger in his eyes. “If you keep that up, this will be over very soon.”
Khadgar nodded in understanding, and removed his hand from Lothar’s pants, albeit a little reluctantly. He pushed at the material, and Lothar got the hint to take them off. In seconds, they joined the rest of their clothes in a heap on the floor. Lothar’s hands moved gently down to Khadgar’s thighs. Lothar tenderly pushed his legs apart, one hand moving down, past his balls, to ghost over his hole.
Khadgar gasped, a mix of pleasure and surprise. He felt Lothar’s hand freeze, so he grabbed his bicep and squeezed, encouraging him to continue. There was another beat of hesitation, and then Lothar was reaching into his bedside drawer for something. His hand returned with a small bottle that Khadgar assumed contained some sort of essential oil.
Lothar covered his fingers quickly before resuming his position. He glanced up, asking for permission, and Khadgar nodded. Slowly, Lothar pushed a finger in. He gasped at the stretch, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. Especially with how gentle Lothar was being—no one had ever been this gentle with him.
Lothar waited an almost uncomfortable amount of time before he started to move, gentle pumping his finger, curling it and looking for the spot that would make Khadgar scream.
He found it surprisingly quickly.
Khadgar’s eyes shot open at the feeling, a loud moan tumbling from his lips at the pleasure. Then, for god knows what reason, Lothar stopped and clamped a hand over his mouth. Khadgar stared up at him with confusion, and concern. What had he done wrong?
“Your eyes,” Lothar said, a tone of amusement in his voice. “They started glowing blue, I was a little worried you were going to blow something up.”
“That’s—that’s never happened before,” Khadgar panted. “I’ve never felt like that before.”
Lothar’s eyes filled with sadness, but he didn’t bring up Khadgar’s past. Instead he asked, “Think you can control it?”
“Yeah,” Khadgar nodded. “You just surprised me, is all.”
“I’ve been told I’m good with my hands,” Lothar smirked, and Khadgar smacked him in the arm. In retaliation, Lothar massaged the spot again. More moans tumbled involuntarily from Khadgar’s lips, but this time there was no blue.
“Lothar,” he moaned after a while. “Anduin, more. I need more.”
Lothar smirked, and removed his finger, only to replace it almost immediately with two more. Khadgar gasped, hands clutching desperately at the sheets beneath him. In minutes, he was a mess, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. His fingers tugged at Lothar’s hair, and he was almost certain his moans would be heard down the hall.
“Anduin, stop,” he puffed. “I’m close, I can’t—I want you. I want you now.”
Lothar’s eyes darkened, and he pulled his fingers from Khadgar. He felt empty, and whined at the sensation. Lothar pressed gentle kisses to his cheeks and eyelids, “Shh, it’s okay. Patience, love.”
Khadgar was mildly aware of Lothar reaching down to cover himself with the oil, and then the head of his dick was pressing against Khadgar’s entrance. He hissed in a breath, urging himself to relax. “Go slow,” he whispered. Lothar nodded in understanding.
It was too much at first, and Khadgar squeezed his eyes shut at the pain—at the fullness. It’d been a long time since he’d been this full. But Lothar, true to his word, pushed in slowly. Almost agonizingly slowly. Once he was fully inside, he stopped. He rubbed gentle circles on Khadgar’s abdomen, and pressed kisses to his shoulders. Letting him adjust; letting him push away the old memories.
Lothar was far more gentle than any of the disgusting pigs from the ally had ever been, but the feeling of fullness, of having someone inside him, was enough to bring back memories that he desperately wished he didn’t have. He didn’t want to ruin this moment, he wanted to be with Lothar. He wanted this.
Khadgar forced himself to breathe. To open his eyes and look at Lothar, who was staring at him with such love and concern it almost hurt. He pushed the old memories away, telling his body to associate this feeling with Lothar. With love.
It wasn’t long before he finally felt like he was ready to continue. He nodded at Lothar to continue, and he did. It was slow, and gentle, and so different that it wasn’t hard to see this as a new experience. To let himself feel pleasure without guilt.
When Lothar found that spot inside him again, Khadgar’s vision exploded into stars. He dug his nails into Lothar’s back, almost screaming with pleasure. “Yes,” he moaned. “Yes, Anduin. More. Faster.”
Lothar looked concerned for a second, but the look passed pretty quickly. He started moving faster, his thrusts harder and more desperate. Khadgar’s moans got louder, and his grip tighter. He repeated Lothar’s name like a mantra as he felt his orgasm pooling in the back of his stomach.
“I’m close,” he breathed.
“Me too.”
It took two more thrusts before Khadgar was falling over the edge, shouting Lothar’s name as he came, the sticky warm liquid covering his stomach. He felt himself clench and contract against Lothar, and it didn’t take long for him to follow suit. The feeling of warmth filling him was familiar, but so different. He didn’t feel disgusting. He felt satisfied.
Lothar pulled out of him and got up, but before Khadgar could complain he was returning with a warm cloth to clean them up. As soon as he was satisfied they wouldn’t wake up sticky and uncomfortable, he climbed into bed naked and pulled Khadgar against his chest.
“I love you,” Lothar said, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head.
“I love you, too.”
When Khadgar woke up the next morning, he felt sore, but surprisingly happy. There was a heavy arm across his stomach, and Lothar was snoring softly next to him as the sun shone through the window they had forgotten to close. If Khadgar had to guess, it was likely before 6. Part of him wanted to go back to sleep, but a larger part wanted to just lay there and study Lothar.
Neither got to happen, however, as a tentative knock came. “Come in,” Khadgar called, without really thinking. He immediately regretted the words when Callan walked in.
The poor kid looked at Khadgar, then at Lothar, and very slowly realization crossed his face. He blushed a bright red, clearing his throat and turning around to stare adamantly at the stone wall. “Lady Taria wanted me to come wake you. She says you need to come have breakfast before the ceremony.”
Callan was out the door before Khadgar could respond, not that he would’ve. The ceremony. His stomach suddenly felt heavy. He took a deep breath, and leaned over to press kisses onto Lothar’s cheek until he woke up.
“Morning,” he said groggily, smiling up at Khadgar. “Did you sleep well?”
“Um, Callan may have… he may have seen some things he likely didn’t want to.”
The sleepiness was knocked out of Lothar with that statement, and he sat up to stare at Khadgar, waiting for an explanation. “He knocked. I wasn’t thinking, I just said to come in…”
“Oh, that poor kid,” Lothar chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll hear about that tomorrow.”
“Lady Taria wants us to come for breakfast. Before the ceremony.”
Lothar must’ve heard the nerves in his voice, because he pulled Khadgar gently into his arms. “Don’t be nervous, love.”
“Easier said than done.”
“I’ll be right there next to you.”
Khadgar nodded against his chest, “I know.”
They got up slowly, sharing lazy kisses as they dressed in the previous day’s clothes. They ended up arriving only a little late for breakfast. Callan took one look at them, flushed a bright red, and immediately excused himself. Lothar chuckled, despite himself.
“Are you excited for this afternoon?” Llane asked. “The people are all humming with excitement. Everyone’s excited to find out what the announcement is.”
“It’ll be nice to assure them they have a Guardian again,” Khadgar agreed, forcing a smile mostly out of curtesy for the King.
After they had finished eating, Lothar and Khadgar excused themselves and set off getting ready. Most of the process involved Lothar attempting to calm Khadgar’s nerves. While they bathed, Taria had dropped off a new set of robes for Khadgar. They were beautiful, but simple. A mix of blues, whites, and tans. The getup was a little more complex than he was used to, and Lothar had to help him figure out the proper order to put it on, but he found it incredibly comfortable. Cozy, even.
“Beautiful,” Lothar said simply, brushing Khadgar’s hair off his forehead, and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Ready to go, love?”
Khadgar took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “As I’ll ever be.”
Khadgar could hear the excited hum on the crowd packed into the Cathedral. He was standing with Lothar, Llane, and Taria in one of the rooms that branched off the large space, and his heart was about ready to pound out of his chest. Lothar, sensing his nervousness, had begun rubbing soothing circles on his back.
“We’re about to begin,” Llane said suddenly from behind them, making Khadgar jump. “Are you ready?”
He nodded slowly, and swallowed around the lump in his throat. Llane smiled, and clapped him on the shoulder before walking out onto the stage. The crowd erupted into cheers. Taria stepped up next, pulling him into a tight hug and whispering encouragements into his ear before joining her husband on stage. Thankfully, Lothar was to walk out with him. Khadgar didn’t know if he would’ve been able to do it alone.
“Welcome, everyone,” Llane said, his voice booming and echoing off the stone walls. “Thank you all for coming to this important event. As you all are aware, we recently had to say our goodbyes to our last Guardian, Medivh.”
The crowd hummed in a unified sorrow. Llane gave them a moment before continuing. “Today, I would like to present to you the young man who will be taking over that role. Since coming to Stormwind, he has shown incredible bravery and strength. I have no doubts that he will be a great protector for Azeroth.”
Lothar’s hand found its way to Khadgar’s lower back, nudging him forward. Which was probably a good thing, because he felt frozen with fear and nervousness. He watched for Llane’s queue to step on stage and, with one last breath, made his way into the eye of the public for the first time as the new Guardian. He focused on the sound of Lothar’s steps behind him, taking comfort in his closeness.
“Everyone, I present you the new Guardian; Khadgar!” The room was silent for a moment, and in a panic Khadgar reached for Lothar’s hand. He could care less what kind of impression it gave, he needed to ground himself. He needed Lothar to keep him from panicking. Thankfully, Lothar didn’t pull away. Instead, he squeezed Khadgar’s hand.
Just when he was about to worry, the room erupted into cheers. People stood from their seats, clapping and chanting his name. Lothar leaned in close, lips brushing Khadgar’s ear as he whispered, “I told you; you’re exactly what Stormwind needs. You’re exactly what I need.”
Khadgar smiled, feeling a tear run down his cheek. For the first time, he felt like he was home.
Pairing: LionTrust (Lothar/Khadgar)
WC: 3593
Summary: To leave the most prestigious society of mages, one was expected to make a fitting sacrifice. The words that he spoke to renounce his vows would be the last to ever leave his lips. Because without his voice, he would no longer be able to use is magic.
To leave the Kirin Tor, Khadgar had to give up the biggest part of himself.
Just when things seemed to hit their worst, a mysterious stranger came to save him from the hell he was living.
A/N: I'm not even going to try to apologize for the wait, because it's completely unforgivable. I know I promised to have this story done by now, but I ended up working in the two weeks before school started, and I started my sophomore year of college on the 18th. Hopefully y'all haven't given up on this story, though. There's one more chapter left.For those who have stuck around, I want to say thank you. This story has been such an incredible first step into the Warcraft fandom, and I look forward to writing more for it. You guys have made this such an incredible experience, though, so thank you. Your support has floored me.
Warnings: Mentions of abuse (physical, emotional, sexual), later mentions of rape/sexual assault, nothing super graphic but enough that warnings are needed.
First | Previous | Next
Waking up next to Lothar quickly became one of Khadgar's favourite things. He'd been so nervous the first night, so worried that he wouldn't be able to sleep, or that he'd snore, or that he'd kick Lothar in the middle of the night. There had been so many things he felt self-conscious about, yet it had taken him mere minutes to doze off. The feel of Lothar's breath on the back of his neck, the heavy weight of his arm wrapped around Khadgar's stomach; it was unbelievably comforting. He slept easily through the night and woke the next morning feeling more well-rested than he had in a long while. Especially because he was woken with gentle kisses and soft words.
After that first night they always seemed to end up in one room or another, and Khadgar wasn't sure if he'd be able to sleep without the feel warmth of Lothar next to him. But now that they were sharing a bed, their relationship was the talk of Stormwind. No matter where he went, Khadgar heard whispers. Guards, maids, kitchen staff, hell even nobles would start gossiping to each other every time he walked by or entered a room.
“What a scandal,” one noble had said. “A measly runaway mage sleeping with the head of the King’s guard.”
“It's preposterous,” the other agreed. “Does he think he can slag his way out of the gutters?”
Though the gossip wasn't always so… upsetting, it was always there. People were always questioning his motives, or why Lothar would even be interested. And try as he may, Khadgar couldn't stop it from getting to him. He couldn't stop their words from getting under his skin and causing doubts. It only get worse when Lothar started saying that he wanted to go public with their relationship. All the doubts at the back of Khadgar's mind slammed forward, the idea alone filling him with panic and dread.
“I don’t know if it's the best idea,” Khadgar had said the first time he brought it up. “What if it's taken poorly? What if it turns the people against you?”
“I don't care about anyone else,” Lothar said. “We've fought too hard, been through too much, for me to care what they think. I'm tired of hiding how I feel about you.”
“But you're the Commander...”
“Yes, and you're the Guardian.”
“Precisely,” Khadgar said. “We're both very involved in the safety of the people, what if they disapprove of us? We can't afford to lose their trust, not now. Not with the Fel still a constant danger hiding in the shadows.”
No matter how hard he tried to argue, Lothar seemed set in his ways. Khadgar knew he would never just go and out them to the city without his permission, but their disagreement was making things awkward and stiff. He just wished Lothar would see it how he did. He wished Lothar would stop trying to argue his side every morning and night.
The more tense things got between them, the more watched he felt. Whether it was concerned glances at breakfast from Taria and Llane, or glares from the guards that Lothar had been pushing harder to get his frustrations out, everywhere he went he felt like he always had eyes on him. The one place he could escape to without fear of unwanted visitors was the alcove above the library, and he'd taken to spending almost all his time there.
It really was a beautiful space, and a very comfortable place to curl up and read. In the few weeks that he and Lothar had been at odds, he'd managed to learn so much.
There were drawings and notes strewn haphazardly on the desk and held on string by clothes pins.
The more he studied, the more confident he felt. He still couldn't help but wonder if Llane was making the right choice appointing him guardian, but now he at least felt more confident in his skills.
Khadgar knew that he needed to practice. He was confident he knew the theories behind the spells. He knew what he had to do, and say, to make them happen, but he didn't know if he possessed the strength necessary to make them work. So one morning, after a particularly heated argument with Lothar, Khadgar stormed straight up to the King and requested an audience.
“You're the Guardian, Khadgar. You needn't be so formal,” Llane said. A small smile danced on his lips, and Khadgar was relieved to see that the uncertainty that once lingered in his eyes whenever they were together was replaced by some sort of small fondness.
“I would like to request your approval for me to take my training to the next level,” Khadgar said, trying to sound as confident as possible. “I've been studying every book I could find, and while I know I have the concepts down I need to know that I'm strong enough to actually perform the spells.”
“So you're asking to practice what you've learned?”
Khadgar nodded, “I know magic is forbidden in Stormwind, but—”
“I give you permission,” Llane said, waving off Khadgar's arguments. “I'll get someone to set up some training dummies in the Mage District. They should be ready by early afternoon.”
“Thank you!” Khadgar said, already backing out of the room. Excitement pulsed through his veins, mixing with the quiet hum of the arcane. It was his turn to take out some frustrations.
When finally face to face with the training dummy, it looked rather… Lacklustre. It was quite small and made of mere wood. If Khadgar possessed even a quarter of the strength required to be a Guardian, one spell would utterly destroy the thing. He stared at Callan, who had volunteered to accompany him to the Mage District, and raised an eyebrow. “Don't we have anything… stronger?” He asked.
Callan laughed. “Do you really think this is just a regular wooden training dummy?”
“Well it looks like a regular wooden training dummy. Smaller than usual, if anything.”
“We're not stupid, Khadgar. We know the power that mages possess. This dummy was enchanted to be nearly indestructible.”
“Nearly?”
“Yes, nearly,” Callan rolled his eyes. “The amount of power required to destroy this thing is beyond the strength of a single mage.”
Khadgar raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“No,” Callan said, quickly shaking his head. “No, it was not a challenge, Khadgar. If you work yourself weak my dad will kill me.”
“Yes, well, your father needs to learn that I am capable of taking care of myself now.” Khadgar said, throwing a spell at the dummy as he felt his anger beginning to stir. “He needs to learn that I can make my own decisions about my future—especially when it could effect how the people of Stormwind see me.”
“Khadgar…” Callan began, but it was far too late. Khadgar was far past holding back the anger, the frustration that had been growing each time Lothar tried to pressure him into telling everyone everything. He threw spell after spell at the dummy, some old favorites, some new discoveries he'd been dying to try.
He just didn't understand why Lothar couldn't listen to his side. Had he ever stopped to consider that maybe Khadgar wanted to keep their relationship to himself for the same reasons that made Lothar want to tell the world? Had he ever considered that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to enjoy being in his first ever relationship without being in the public eye, especially with everything going on?
He could feel himself getting weaker as his anger and aggression towards the dummy grew, but it felt so good to finally get his frustration out. Much to his pleasure, he managed to perform many of the spells he'd read about successfully, and the corner of the Mage District he was in was alight with the bright blue glow of magic. For the first time since Llane asked him to be the new Guardian, he felt like he could actually do the job.
He was pushing himself, Khadgar knew that. He could feel the energy being pulled from him with each incantation. But he was tired of people—of Lothar seeing him as weak. He wanted to prove that he was a powerful mage deserving of the title of Guardian. If that meant sometimes he would have to push his limits, so be it. He thought he would be able to tell when he was pushing it too far, when he had to stop and recover, but the spells he was trying were more advanced than anything he'd done in the past. They took more out of him than he was used to, and he didn't realize it until it was too late.
The last thing he remembered before he passed out was Callan shouting his name.
Lothar stared at Khadgar, unconscious on his bed. He really wasn't fond of how many times he found himself sitting in this same damn chair, waiting for the kid to wake up from one of his stupid and reckless moves. He wasn't sure how many more times his heart could take it. How many more times he could be approached by a guard or a healer, their eyes filled with pity as they explained that Khadgar had been hurt.
Sure, this time he'd just exhausted himself. But what about next time? What if next time he's not just facing a training dummy? Lothar worried his bottom lip between his teeth, waiting for him to come to. Willing him to come back.
He couldn't help but feel like it was his fault this time. If he wouldn't have pushed so much, put so much pressure on Khadgar to comply to his wishes. He knew that it was straining their relationship. He knew that it was stressing Khadgar out just as much as he was stressing himself out. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened. And now, seeing Khadgar hurt and knowing he was the cause… it wasn't worth it. Nothing was worth hurting Khadgar.
He grabbed the mage’s hand gently, pulling it to his lips. “I'm sorry, Khadgar,” he breathed against the skin. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Taria enter, and her hand landing on his shoulder made him jump.
“Sorry,” she said, “I didn't mean to frighten you.”
“No need to apologize, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“How is he?”
“Exhausted. He’s been out for nearly four hours now—the healers said that he could be like this for another three or four hours,” Lothar sighed, brushing the hair off Khadgar’s forehead tenderly. “There’s not much they can do to help. He pushed himself too far; all we can do is let him sleep it off.”
“He’ll be alright, Anduin,” Taria said.
“I know he will be, but I can’t stop myself from worrying.”
“It would be wrong if you could. You love him after all, do you not?”
“Yeah,” Lothar smiled, feeling his heart jump in his chest at the words. “Yeah, I really think I do.”
“Then why on earth have you been arguing with him over something so stupid?”
Lothar whipped around to stare at his sister, “What are you talking about?”
“Oh please, Anduin. Do you honestly think everyone in the castle couldn’t see you two were at odds? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on.”
“I just don’t understand why he wants to keep everything so quiet. After everything we’ve been through—everything we’ve lost—don’t you think we deserve this?”
“Of course you do.” Taria smiled sadly, “But you have to realize that it wasn’t long ago Khadgar was a beggar on the streets of our great city. Do you not hear the whispers, brother?”
Lothar felt his heart drop into his stomach, “What whispers?”
“They say he’s not worthy of you. They’re calling him a harlot; saying he’s trying to charm his way out of poverty.”
“That’s—what—why hasn’t he said anything?”
“He’s probably embarrassed,” Taria said. “But can you see why he’s not as thrilled as you are about the idea?”
“I… I didn’t know. I didn’t even think about it.”
“I know. You often let your emotions cloud your judgement, but now you need to be there for him. He’s going through a lot; he’ll need you now more than ever.”
Lothar nodded, “Thank you, Taria.”
“Anytime, little brother.”
When Khadgar finally woke up, Lothar felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. He pulled the mage into a tight hug. “Lothar?” Khadgar asked. His voice was rough from sleep and weaker than usual.
“What the hell did you think you were doing, spell-chucker?” Lothar boomed. He meant to be calm, collected, but damn if the kid didn’t drive him up the wall.
“I needed to practice. Book smarts can only get you so far, Lothar, and I am to be the Guardian.”
“Yes, but to this extent?” Lothar barked. “To the point of exhaustion?”
“I’m fine, Lothar.”
“You’re not fine!” Lothar shouted, once again letting his anger get the better of him. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. “You should’ve told me.”
“Told you what?”
“You should’ve told me about the whispers. About what people were saying.”
Khadgar went a deep shade of red and adverted his gaze, which only made Lothar’s heart ache more. He reached for Khadgar’s hands, pulling them to his lips. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Khadgar, if I would’ve known… I shouldn’t have pushed so much.”
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”
“I should’ve known. Or I should’ve asked—I should’ve noticed. I wasn’t paying enough attention, and I’m sorry.”
“I want us to be happy,” Khadgar said quietly. “We deserve to be happy after everything that’s happened, but I just… the last thing I need right now is for the people to be against me. They’re already going to have to adapt to having a new Guardian, I don’t want this on them, too.”
Lothar nodded, “I understand now, and you’re right. We need to give them time to process everything. But Khadgar, you need to stop listening to the whispers and the rumors in the castle. They’re just jealous. Jealous and confused.”
“I know,” Khadgar said with a smile. Lothar was so relieved to see that smile again that he couldn’t help but kiss the mage.
“I missed you,” Khadgar said softly when Lothar pulled away, “I hate fighting with you.”
“I love you,” Lothar said suddenly.
“You—what?”
He smiled, cupping Khadgar’s face between his hands. “I love you. So much.”
“Lothar—”
“You don’t have to say it back,” he said quickly. “But I would like it if you called me Anduin.”
Khadgar smiled sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Anduin.”
Khadgar would’ve been perfectly content to spend the rest of the evening in Lothar—Anduin’s arms. After the month they’d had, they could’ve done with some alone time. Naturally that just meant they wouldn’t get any. Just as they were getting comfortable, and things were getting warmer, the door to his room burst open. Callan stood, frozen and red as a tomato, in the doorway.
Lothar was off him almost before Khadgar had fully processed the situation. “Callan,” he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What are you doing here?”
“The King wanted me to come find you. He wants to see Khadgar once he’s, um… decent.”
“We’ll be right down,” Lothar assured. “And Callan? Please knock in the future.”
“The doors have locks, dad. Please use them.”
Khadgar snickered at the comment, which earned him a glare that quickly led to a kiss. He forced himself to push Lothar back as things got more heated. “We have to go see the King.”
“The King can wait,” Lothar groaned.
“He really can’t. It comes with the title.”
Lothar sighed, but didn’t argue any further. Instead, he gently brushed Khadgar’s hair into something that didn’t show what they’d just been doing. Though he was pretty sure his swollen lips would give them away.
The walked down the halls of the castle side by side, closer than was maybe considered “normal” or “acceptable,” but not actually touching. Even if Khadgar wanted nothing more than to have the warmth of Lothar’s hand in his own. Llane was waiting for them in the throne room with a knowing smile that made Khadgar blush. He was still uncertain around Llane, especially when it came to matters featuring him and Lothar.
“Khadgar,” Llane said as the doors closed behind him. There was no one else in the room; not even a guard. “I’m glad to see you’re alright.”
“I’m fine, just underestimated the power of the spells I was trying out.”
“So I take it the training is going alright?”
Khadgar nodded, “I’m learning faster than I thought. I’ll likely have to return to Karazhan to get some more books in the future, but for now I’m more than happy with what I have.”
“Good, I’m glad.”
“So, um,” Khadgar shifted his weight from one foot to the other, still feeling antsy under the King’s gaze. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes! I wanted to run something by you.”
“Oh?”
“I would like to hold a ceremony to announce you as the new Guardian.”
Khadgar’s heart stopped, and he took a stuttering step backwards. He felt the room begin to spin at the thought of the thing. Thankfully Lothar’s hand landed on his lower back, steadying him. Grounding him. When he spoke, his voice was at least two octaves higher than usual, “You do?”
“I think it’s be good for the people to know they have someone to rely on. Medivh’s death really shook the Kingdom. Now, more than ever, they need to see us as a united front. They need to know that we can keep them safe, no matter what.”
“Isn’t it a little soon?” Khadgar stuttered. “I mean; it’s just shy of a month since Medivh’s funeral.”
“They need to know they have someone to rely on, Khadgar. They need to see that the Guardian hasn’t died, just passed hands.”
Khadgar nodded slowly, a sickening feeling in his gut. He was so thankful for Lothar’s touch. The gentle circles he was rubbing on his back were soothing, and they were possibly the only thing keeping him from falling over. The mere thought of standing in front of all of Stormwind was enough to make him sick, but for the event to be centered around his new role? Khadgar would rather die.
“We’re hoping to hold the ceremony in Cathedral Square three days from now.”
“Okay,” Khadgar said, barely managing to force the word past his lips.
“Don’t worry, Khadgar. Everything will turn out just fine. The people will love you.”
He wanted to believe Llane, but everything in him screamed to run. To get as far away as possible and never look back.
Lothar knew Khadgar wasn’t okay. He could feel the unease rolling off him, could see how tense the mage had been since Llane’s announcement. He had all but pulled Khadgar from the room, leading him back to the nook above the library with a steady arm over his shoulders. When the got there, Khadgar fell heavily onto the couch. He didn’t say anything, just stared straight ahead.
Lothar sat next to him, pulling him against his chest. Khadgar relaxed into his touch, but Lothar could almost feel the fear. “It’ll be okay, Khadgar. You know that, right?”
“I just…” He took a deep breath,” I’m a street rat, Lothar. I was nothing more than a beggar until you found me—how are they going to see me as anything but that weak, pathetic man?”
“You were never nothing more than a beggar. You’ve always been incredibly special; incredibly important,” Lothar said strictly. “You are stronger than anyone I know. With all you’ve been through… Khadgar, so many would have just given up. Or, even if they would’ve managed to persevere, few would’ve been able to continue to live the way you do. You live so selflessly, my love. The people will know that, and they will love you as I do.”
“And if they don’t?”
“If they don’t, I will be by your side. As will Llane, and Taria, and Callan. There are so many people who will stand with you no matter what.”
“I don’t understand what I did to deserve this—to deserve you all,” Khadgar breathed. “But I’m scared, Anduin.”
“I know.”
Lothar pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his hair. He hated seeing Khadgar like this. He hated knowing that the mage didn’t see himself how Lothar did; that he couldn’t see the beauty and strength Lothar did. He was so scared the people wouldn’t like him, but that was exactly why they would. Khadgar was a good man, but more than that he would do anything to protect those he cared about.
Khadgar didn’t know what he did to deserve them, but really they didn’t deserve him. Lothar just hoped everyone would be able to see that. There was a nervousness in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t help but worry that the men from Khadgar’s past would come back, that they’d be there.
He couldn’t shed the feeling of dread that they would find a way to intervene.
Pairing: LionTrust (Khadgar/Lothar)
WC: 4337
Summary: To leave the most prestigious society of mages, one was expected to make a fitting sacrifice. The words that he spoke to renounce his vows would be the last to ever leave his lips. Because without his voice, he would no longer be able to use is magic.
To leave the Kirin Tor, Khadgar had to give up the biggest part of himself.
Just when things seemed to hit their worst, a mysterious stranger came to save him from the hell he was living.
A/N: Sorry for the wait on the chapter guys. Work has been tiring, to say the least. The season ends on the 5th of September, though, and I’ll have a about two weeks before school is back in so updates should come more regularly. Until then, it could be a bit until the next chapter, and I’m sorry for that. Thank you for sticking around and continuing to read, we’re reaching the home stretch here. <3
Warnings: Mentions of abuse (physical, emotional, sexual), later mentions of rape/sexual assault, nothing super graphic but enough that warnings are needed.
First | Previous | Next
When Khadgar woke up the morning following the funeral, it took him a minute to process everything that happened the day prior. He honestly wasn't sure if his and Lothar’s conversation in the tavern was a dream. It felt real, but the idea was far too surreal for Khadgar to believe. He'd wanted for so long to fix things between them, and hoped so strongly for his feelings to be justified, returned. But for it to actually happen? He couldn't help but wonder if it was just his brain tricking him.
He dressed quickly, knowing he would be expected for breakfast soon. He could tell by how bright it was in his room that he had slept in, and the last thing he wanted to do was be late. Moments after he slipped on his boots, there was a knock on his door. Khadgar opened it, and his heart fluttered at the sight of Lothar.
“Good morning, bookworm,” the Commander said. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Khadgar's cheek that pretty much made the mage's heart explode. He couldn't stop the massive smile that spread, and Lothar returned it gladly.
“Morning.”
“Ready to go?” Khadgar nodded, and began following Lothar down the twisting hallways of the castle. He could barely believe it had all actually happened, but was he ever glad it did. He couldn't stop smiling as they walked down the halls, even as they sat down to eat and everyone looked at him with questioning glances. Khadgar could care less what they were all thinking.
He glanced at Lothar as the food was served, and was happy to see the same, dumb smile on his face. Conversation during the meal was relatively lighthearted. Taria made pleasant small talk with the other nobles at the table, but every once and a while Khadgar would catch her staring out of the corner of her eye, a knowing smile dancing on her lips. He felt himself blush, but her gaze wasn't one filled with judgement or disapproval. She looked genuinely happy for him. For both of them.
When they were both finished eating, Lothar pulled him away with a mischievous smile. Khadgar let himself be dragged along, heart pounding in anticipation for whatever was to come. He was delighted, albeit confused, when they arrived in the library. He rose an eyebrow as Lothar continued pulling him through the shelves, deeper than Khadgar had ever really had the chance to explore.
At the very back of the large room, hidden behind thousands of books in stacks on the ground, was a staircase. Khadgar's heart jumped at the sight, and he couldn't help the breathless laugh that tumbled from his lips as they climbed upward. The room at the top was small, but far cozier than anything in the main level of the library. There was a large stain glass window almost completely covering the wall directly across from the stairs, and it filled the room with a dulled light.
On one side of the room there was a desk with lots of parchment and a candle that had almost been burned down completely. On the other side of the room were more piles of books and plush pillows strewn across the floor. Khadgar was speechless. Lothar wrapped his arms around Khadgar’s waist, his breath dancing on his neck as he spoke quietly. “Taria had this room renovated shortly after her and Llane married,” he explained. “She doesn't use it much anymore, but I thought you'd appreciate it.”
“It's breathtaking,” Khadgar gaped. “It's like we’re not even in the castle anymore, it's so private.”
Lothar's hands moved to his waist, spinning him so they were face to face. Khadgar could feel himself getting warm as he was pulled closer, impossibly closer, until they were pressed together and their lips were mere inches apart. When Lothar spoke, he could almost feel the movement of his lips on his own. “I may have had some selfish reasons for bringing you up here.”
He didn't have the chance to ask, not that he'd had any question of Lothar's intentions. The kiss was almost painfully gentle, but completely perfect. Khadgar melted in the older man's arms, humming happily at the long awaited feeling of Lothar's lips against his own. It wasn't long before the innocent peck was deepened. Khadgar threw his arms around Lothar's neck, threading his fingers into his soft hair. Lothar's grip on his hips tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing gently across Khadgar's bottom lip, asking permission that was eagerly granted.
When Lothar finally pulled away, they were both panting. He their foreheads together, a soft smile on his lips that Khadgar couldn't help but return. “You can't imagine how long I've wanted to do that.”
“On the contrary, the feeling has been pretty mutual.”
Lothar chuckled and ruffled his hair. “As much as I would love to stay and continue this, I have duties that I have been neglecting an awful lot as of late. Feel free to stay here and make yourself comfortable if you wish.”
“Come find me later?” Khadgar asked, pressing a shy kiss to Lothar's lips.
“Of course.”
Rumours spread incredibly quick within the castle’s network. Lothar knew this, and often used it to his advantage, both for work… And for family. The first time Callan had kissed a girl, he found out within the hour. It was incredible how quickly word spread. He really should've expected to be getting questioning glances; for people to be whispering when they thought he couldn't hear, but it had been quite a while since he'd been on the receiving end of the gossip. It was definitely weird.
“What are they saying?” He asked Callan once he'd safely reached the training grounds.
“Exactly what you'd expect them to be saying,” Callan said. “Everyone's betting on whether or not you are actually trying to court our resident mage or not.”
“Right.”
“Well?” Callan prompted.
“Well, what?”
“As your son, I really feel like I should know if something is going on between you guys.”
Lothar bit hit lip. He hadn't expected to have this conversation with Callan so soon. He wasn't even sure what was between him and Khadgar yet, how was he supposed to articulate that to his son? “If there was,” he said slowly, “would that… would you be okay with that?”
“Of course. I just want you to be happy, dad. It's pretty clear to everyone that Khadgar makes you happy.”
“You're sure? It's not weird?”
“It's a little unexpected.” Callan shrugged, “But I'm glad you've found someone finally.”
“Me too, kid. Me, too.”
He watched Callan walk away, a considerable weight lifted from his chest. He didn't know what he would've done if his son had disapproved—his feelings for Khadgar were strong, but Callan was still the most important person in his life. Lothar was glad he wouldn't have to choose.
The remainder of the morning went smoothly. Despite his recent absences, his soldiers addressed him with the same enthusiasm and respect that they always had. They all knew that Medivh had been a friend, and knew that he was grieving. For their compassion, Lothar went easier on them then he normally did.
After lunch, he decided to fill the remainder of training with sparring. He still feared that Medivh's possession was only the beginning of something far greater, and he wanted to know that they were able to handle themselves outside of routine practice. He needed to make sure they could judge the actions of their opponents and react accordingly. Much to his relief, he found almost all of them to be more than competent. Even those that fell behind the rest still managed to hold their own.
For the last hour, Lothar entered the ring himself. He opened it up to anyone, and as many opponents as they saw fit. He hoped the exercise would be a good demonstration of handling oneself against many opponents, but also knew it would help keep him on his toes. As Commander, he needed to remain in peak condition, mentally and physically.
For the most part, he managed to hold his own. Initially, only one or two more confident soldiers would approach, and Lothar would easily bring them down. But over time, the others learned that they had strength in numbers. Slowly, two became four, then seven. By the time he was fighting against ten, he found himself overrun.
Proud of what they'd accomplished, Lothar happily dismissed his troops ten minutes early. He was covered in sweat and dirt, but felt better than he had in a long while. At the end of the day, a good spar always did wonders to lift his mood. Especially when he knew the end of the day brought with it a certain mage Lothar suspected was still curled up in the library.
He all but sprinted to the baths, eager to clean up quickly so he could spend some time with Khadgar before it was time for dinner. He found the mage exactly where he'd left him, as expected. He couldn't help but smile as he returned to the cozy room to find Khadgar curled up on the pillows, surrounded by thick books. One particularly large one was resting on his lap, and Khadgar was studying it with an adorable intensity.
“Finding anything interesting?” Lothar asked. Khadgar jumped, the book in his lap tumbling to the floor as his head snapped up.
“You have to stop doing that.” He stood, padding over in bare feet. Lothar smiled as Khadgar leaned up for a kiss, happily meeting him half way. “Seriously, I’m going to have to get you a bell or something, my heart can't take the scares.”
“I'll try to make my footsteps louder,” Lothar said. He cupped Khadgar's face gently between his hands, resting their foreheads together. He felt like he was being too forward, too clingy, but he just wanted to hold the mage. He'd waited so long to be able to, he didn't want to let go. Khadgar, for what it was worth, didn't seem to mind in the slightest. Rather, his hands came to rest over Lothar's as he smiled sweetly.
Lothar pressed one last kiss to his lips before leading him back over the the pillows. He fell heavily onto them, pulling Khadgar down with him. He ended up half in Lothar's lap, his legs a welcome weight over Lothar's own. Khadgar's hands found their way into his still damp hair as he wrapped his arms loosely around his waist.
“How was your day?” Khadgar asked quietly.
“Good. It felt nice to get back to training again. I've missed the simplicity of the repetition. Plus, it was nice to fight without my life being in actual danger for once.”
Khadgar smiled bitterly. “Sometimes I wish we would've met under different circumstances—that our lives were safe and secure, not constantly on the verge of danger.” The beginnings of an apology danced on Lothar's tongue, but Khadgar didn't give him the change to give the words life. “Then I think about all the good that we do; the people we save. Plus, think about how much more boring life would be without a little danger.”
Lothar smiled, but his heart wasn't in it. He pulled Khadgar closer, kissing him deeply so he wouldn't be able to see the uncertainty in his eyes. Truth be told, he kind of wished Khadgar would've lived a quiet and peaceful life, that his family wouldn't have… have given him away like he was some sort of dispensable resource they could use to gain honour. Everything he went through, the year of hell he'd experienced before Lothar found him, it could've all been avoided.
Before the thought could fester too much, a throat cleared from the stairwell. They jumped apart, and Lothar would've been on his feet if he didn't have a lap full of mage. He didn't know who expected to see, but it certainly wasn't Taria. Once again, he wondered how that woman always knew where to find people who didn't want to be found.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said smugly, “but dinner is going to be served in five minutes.”
“Right.” Lothar coughed, “We’ll, uh. We'll be right behind you.”
As soon as she was out of sight, Khadgar started to laugh. Lothar stared at him like he was crazy, because he quite possibly was. Still, laughter from Khadgar was so rare, and so completely intoxicating, Lothar found himself laughing along within moments. “Well, I guess if she didn't know before, she does now.”
Khadgar didn't really have a plan after dinner. All he knew was that he wasn't ready to leave Lothar's company just yet. So despite the butterflies dancing in his stomach, Khadgar took hold of his hand and led him through the halls of the castle and to his room. Lothar hesitated at the door, but a gentle tug was reassurance enough for Khadgar to get him inside. Finally in private, knowing they wouldn't be interrupted, Lothar pulled him in for a more heated kiss. He was pushed back against his dresser, the wood digging into his backside as Lothar pressed against him. His hands found this way to Khadgar's waist before sliding down, over his ass, to grab his thighs and lift him onto the top of the dresser.
The position was far more comfortable, and Khadgar tugged greedily at Lothar's shirt. He let his hands slip underneath, exploring the bare skin. He could feel the distinct smoothness of scars littering Lothar's chest, and knew that one day he would love to spend an afternoon familiarizing himself with the story behind each and every one. Lothar pulled away long enough to lift Khadgar's tunic over his head before pulling off his own shirt. He paused, eyes trailing down to the mage's bare skin. Khadgar could feel himself blushing, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious.
Khadgar dropped his gaze to the floor in embarrassment. He wished he wasn't so pale. He wished he hadn't put on so much weight, suddenly worried about how Lothar was all muscles and he was all… pudge. Lothar lifted his chin gently, dipping his head so he could make eye contact with Khadgar. “What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” He asked sweetly.
“You're… breathtaking,” Khadgar breathed. “Next to you I'm…”
“Beautiful.” Lothar said firmly. “You're absolutely beautiful.”
“Don't be ridiculous.”
“Khadgar, I'm serious.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead, “I am completely taken by you.” A kiss to his cheek, “From the minute I saw you, I was taken by you.” A peck on the lips, “And now? Now that you're healthy again, that attraction has only intensified.” The brush of lips against his jaw, “I want to spend hours exploring every inch of you.” A kiss to his collarbone, “I never want you to feel like you're not attractive, because you are.” Finally, a gentle kiss to his shoulder. “You're absolutely stunning.”
Khadgar felt tears welling in his eyes, threatening to spill over and ruin everything. He'd never been treated with such care, such tenderness. Lothar pulled him close, arms wrapping tightly around him as tears fell onto his shoulder. The mood they had going, all desperation and arousal, was lost. Khadgar wanted to kick himself for being so stupid, but Lothar didn't seem to mind.
Part of Khadgar expected him to leave, but instead he found himself being gently led to the bed. Lothar held him close as they lay there, face to face. He waited patiently for Khadgar to calm down, waving off all apologies that he tried to give. Once the tears stopped, he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. The hand that wasn't under Khadgar's arm rubbed soothing circles in his back, and once again he found himself wondering how he managed to be so lucky as to have caught the attention of such a lovely man.
“Khadgar,” Lothar breathed, “can you tell me about what happened in the year before I found you?”
“What? Why?” He asked, panic rising at the thought of Lothar knowing all that had happened.
“In the time I've known you, you've only ever said bits and pieces. You always shy away from talking about it, and I know you probably think it's going to change how I feel about you, but it won't. I swear to you, it will not change anything.”
Khadgar knew getting the story off his chest and out in the open would probably be good for him, but the thought still terrified him. “How do you know? The things that happened… how do you know it won't change this?”
“Because nothing could change how I feel about you. I swear, Khadgar, what we have is not going to change.”
He believed Lothar, because he trusted him. Despite the growing dread in the back of his throat, he knew that he had to get everything out there. And Lothar was the only one he trusted enough to even consider telling. “I wish I could say that everything started off okay, but it didn't. From the minute I got here, until you found me, it was a series of bad things adding up to absolute hell. No matter where I went, or what I tried to do, I couldn't get a job. I had no money when I got here, and that meant I was out on the street my first night.
“I guess things weren't so bad at first. The nights were cold, and food wasn't necessarily easy to come by, but I went mostly unnoticed. It wasn't until I found myself in Old Town that I started getting company.” Khadgar shuddered at the memory. “At first, it was drunk men who needed to get some anger out; shove someone around a bit. It wasn't anything that I couldn't handle. But things got worse, gradually. And one night it changed, one of them decided to use me to relieve… other tensions. After that, it got harder. I started to lose who I was, started to lose my desire to keep going.
“Even now, I can vividly remember the feel of their greasy, rough hands on my skin and the overwhelming smell of booze on their breath. They took everything from me: my dignity, my self-worth… my purity.” He focused his eyes over Lothar's shoulder. He didn't want to see the disgust in his eyes. “I've been taken more times than I can begin to count, and it ruined me. I… I don't expect you to want to be with that.”
“Don't be ridiculous, Khadgar. Of course I still want to be with you.”
“I'm disgusting, broken. They ruined me.”
“No, they didn't. You're beautiful, and I am incredibly attracted to you. They're the disgusting ones, not you.”
“I know.”
Lothar cupped his face gently, thumbs running soothing circles on his cheeks. “I swear to you, Khadgar, if I can find those bastards they’ll spend the rest of their days in a cell.”
“It's not worth it. It'd just be a waste of your time.”
“I can't just let them go free, not after what they did to you.”
“It's in the past,” Khadgar said. “I just want to put it all behind me, and you're helping me do that. I don't want to reopen those memories again.”
“But what if they do it to someone else?”
Khadgar shook his head, “They won't. Unless someone else decides to leave the Kirin Tor and come to Stormwind. The only reason they got away with it was because I couldn't cry for help.”
He felt Lothar tense. He kissed him gently, desperately hoping to pull his attention away from the negative. They were together, and Khadgar was happier than he had been in a long time. He wanted to focus on the positive, not dwell on the past. Lothar seemed to understand that, and he noticeably relaxed.
Before long, his hands were moving down; over Khadgar's shoulders, fingers dancing gently down his arms to land on his hips. He pulled him closer, closing the distance between them completely. Khadgar gasped at the touch, feeling Lothar's arousal against his own. They deepened the kiss, and everything had a new sense of desperation, of raw need. Lothar changed their position so Khadgar was on his back, arms pinned above his head as he panted up at the Commander.
Lothar moved down, his lips exploring Khadgar's chest. He couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips—everything was so new, so different. It felt so good, and he couldn't help but roll his hips up, desperately seeking relief from the tightness growing in his pants. He felt Lothar smile against his skin, even as he sucked marks into his chest. Lothar's free hand moved further down, dancing over his nipples and down his stomach, until finally—finally—it reached his groin.
If he wasn't so far gone, so completely wrapped up in the burning heat Lothar's touch left on his skin, Khadgar might've been embarrassed by how aroused he was. His pants strained against the bulge, which only worsened with Lothar's touch. He strained against the hand holding his own above his head, moaning loudly. Lothar's touch got rougher, more urgent. He let go of Khadgar's hands so he could work on undoing his pants, pulling them off in one swift motion.
He tried not to feel self-conscious as he lay, completely exposed, in front of Lothar. But the older man didn't give him a chance to feel bad about how he looked. “Beautiful,” he whispered, and then his lips were back on Khadgar's.
In a surge of confidence that Khadgar was almost positive was fuelled mainly by arousal, his hands found their way to Lothar's pants. He tugged at the material, his brain too fogged to comprehend how the garnets worked. Thankfully, oh so thankfully, Lothar got the point. He managed to finish removing his own clothes without breaking the kiss, and within moments Khadgar felt Lothar's arousal against his own.
He reached a hand down, wrapping it tentatively around it. He'd never done this, not on another person. Foreplay had never really been a concern of the men from the ally, and it was just another thing that distanced what they did from what he and Lothar were doing now. Much to his pleasure, Lothar hummed happily against his lips at the touch. Feeling more confident, Khadgar's strokes became more sure. It wasn't long before Lothar had to pull away, panting against his lips.
“Khadgar if you keep going like that, this isn't going to last long,” he said, voice rough and deeper than usual. Khadgar slowed his movements, but didn't stop. He enjoyed the look on Lothar's face too much.
He hadn't noticed that Lothar's hands had moved until he felt them on his ass, spreading his cheeks apart. He gasped at the touch, a mix of shock and arousal. Lothar, however, obviously took it as something else. In the blink of an eye, he was off Khadgar and on the end of the bed. “What're you… What happened?” Khadgar asked, his brain still foggy.
“I don’t know if this was such a good idea.”
“What?”
Lothar looked away, but Khadgar could see him shutting down. “I just think it might be too soon.”
“Too soon?” Khadgar asked. “Lothar, we’ve been pining after one another for the better part of a year.”
The Commander said nothing, but something clicked in Khadgar's head as he watched him pull on his pants. It wasn't because their… Whatever this was was new. It had nothing to do with them, or their relationship. No, but it had everything to do with Khadgar and his past. He sat up quickly, pulling his knees to his chest. He just wanted to disappear. He felt dirty, used. Unwanted.
“I should go,” Lothar said, already backing towards the door. “I'll come pick you up for breakfast tomorrow.”
“You promised,” Khadgar said quietly, and his hand froze on the handle. “You swore you wouldn't let my past change what we have.”
He saw Lothar's shoulders droop. His hand dropped from the door handle, and he very slowly made his way back to the bed, sitting gently next to Khadgar, who couldn't help but shy away. “It's not you, Khadgar. It's not because I'm not attracted to you—but that's part of the reason why I'm…” He sighed. “I don't know if I could stop myself if we started. I don't want to hurt you.”
“I'm not as fragile as you seem to think I am.”
“I know, I know. I just… I care too much about you to risk moving too fast and doing something we'd regret.”
Khadgar reached out, tentatively, and grabbed one of his hands. “You're not them. You're not going to hurt me; you're not going to break me. Being with you is different, Lothar. You make me feel things I've never felt before. I hated what they did, but tonight? You drive me crazy—good crazy. I trust you, and I want to experience this with you.”
He could see the beginnings of a smile on Lothar's lips, so Khadgar leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I do think it is a little too soon, though. We only started this relationship yesterday, I want to take the time to enjoy it, cherish it. We don't need to rush things.”
Khadgar nodded slowly. “I can be okay with that.” Lothar started to leave, and without really thinking he reached out to stop him. “Could you… I would really like you to stay.”
“I would love to,” Lothar said, removing his boots again while Khadgar hastily pulled on his undergarments. They both got under the covers, Lothar pulling him close and pressing gentle kisses to the back of his neck. “Sleep well, love.”
Khadgar doubted he'd ever get a better night’s sleep.
Pairing: LionTrust (Khadgar/Lothar)
WC: 4175
Summary: To leave the most prestigious society of mages, one was expected to make a fitting sacrifice. The words that he spoke to renounce his vows would be the last to ever leave his lips. Because without his voice, he would no longer be able to use is magic.
To leave the Kirin Tor, Khadgar had to give up the biggest part of himself.
Just when things seemed to hit their worst, a mysterious stranger came to save him from the hell he was living.
A/N: Oh my god, I am terribly sorry for the wait on this chapter. Work has kind of been kicking my ass as of late, and I've had like 0 energy to do anything else. As much as I'd like to say that the chapters will start being daily again, I'm going to be working 5-7 day weeks with 8-10 hour days for all of August, so there will likely be slightly longer waits between the chapters and I apologize for that. However, I do promise the wait will never exceed one week (unless there's a damn good reason). Thank you so much for sticking around, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!
Warnings: Mentions of abuse (physical, emotional, sexual), later mentions of rape/sexual assault, nothing super graphic but enough that warnings are needed.
First | Previous | Next
The last thing Khadgar wanted to do was return to Karazhan. The thought alone made him feel queasy and anxious, but he knew he had to go. He couldn't just leave Medivh there. He had to be brought back to Stormwind so he could be given a proper burial—that was the only way that anyone would begin to heal. He knew he had to go for the King and Queen, for the people of Azeroth, for himself, and most importantly… for Lothar. He was putting on a brave face but Khadgar could tell he was hurting. He just hoped this would help.
He knew that he should tell someone he was going, but he really wasn't planning to be there long and he knew it would just make Lothar worry. All he was going to do was port in, take Medivh’s body, and port out. It would be fine. So, instead of dealing with Lothar’s stubbornness Khadgar woke up before dawn and prepared to head out. If things went to plan, he could be back before the rest of the castle was even awake.
He ported directly into the energy chamber. He hoped that all the things that had been infesting Karazhan had left with the demon, but he really didn't want to test that theory alone. Khadgar knew it'd be safest to just get in and out as quickly as possible. Part of him longed to try and save some of the books—the thought of leaving all that knowledge behind and unattended broke his heart—but he knew it’d be foolish to try. He knew he'd have to talk to Lothar about coming back for the books together. Maybe even with a small team. They could clear out Karazhan and make sure that everything really was gone.
The chamber was a mess, just as they left it. Khadgar's throat tightened as his eyes moved to the center of the room. The golem was still there, and under it Medivh's lifeless body. It was the first time he really got to look at his mentor, and his death was finally starting to sink in. Before this moment it hadn’t felt real. He had known, of course, in his mind that Medivh was dead, but it never really sunk in. It wasn’t until now, as Khadgar kneeled next to him, that he realized he was truly gone. He didn't bother trying to hide the tears that spilled down his cheeks.
Medivh had been so kind to him. Khadgar had ran to Karazhan with a heavy heart and no idea where else to go, expecting to be turned away or turned in. But Medivh had invited him inside, listened as Khadgar poured his broken heart out. He had offered him a place to stay in exchange for Khadgar ‘tidying’ the library. He never outwardly said he would mentor him, but somehow more of Khadgar's days were spent learning and practicing alongside the Guardian than anything else.
He had so much more to learn, so much more that Medivh was supposed to teach him. How was he supposed to be the Guardian—how was he supposed to live up to the legacy Medivh left behind?
“I'm not ready,” Khadgar said quietly into the empty room. “What if I mess it up? All of Azeroth depends on the Guardian, but up until Lothar came along I could barely take care of myself.”
With a sigh, he dropped his head into his hands. He knew he had to be strong, had to continue moving forward. The King and Queen believed in him, Lothar believed in him. He had to believe that he could do this. You don't have to do it alone, Khadgar reminded himself, trying to calm the panic. You never have to deal with anything alone again.
He began to move the golem slowly, making sure his magic was targeted only at the clay and not Medivh. Once the body was clear of debris, Khadgar began to draw the runes for the portal on the ground, taking special care to make sure it'd be large enough to take them both. Before he could finish, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He turned his head slowly to glance over his shoulder and saw something move in the shadows. Cursing under his breath, Khadgar started moving quicker. He wished, not for the first time, that he didn’t need to use the runes. Medivh had been able to teleport with such ease, he could actually get out of danger if need be. Khadgar could barely port at all. Just as he finished the last rune, he was pushed back by what felt like a ball of pure energy. It slammed him roughly against the wall, and his vision blurred with pain.
Instinct took over as everything except the need to survive left his mind. The fear was replaced with anger and determination. He had to get back to Stormwind. He threw the first spell that came to mind in the direction of the shadow, and heard a wail. His confidence flared at the knowledge of the hit, and he took the opportunity to run back to the portal, pulling the magic up quickly. He felt, rather than saw, the sting of a cut across his stomach, but the creature seemed unable to approach him. Khadgar realized quickly that it seemed to be bound to the shadows—it could hurt him, but it couldn’t enter the portal. Knowing he was safe to teleport without bringing whatever it was back to Stormwind, he grabbed hold of Medivh and squeezed his eyes shut.
A person, rather than solid location, filled his vision and the next thing he knew, Lothar was shouting his name. The familiar sound eased his worry, and with the knowledge that they were safe Khadgar finally let the exhaustion take over.
When Khadgar woke up he was back in his room. It was bright, much brighter than when he arrived. He wondered how long he’d been asleep. Khadgar looked to his right, and found Lothar glaring daggers. He sighed, and felt the tightness of bandages around his stomach. “What were you thinking?” Lothar growled. “You had to know Karazhan was dangerous.”
“I had to get Medivh. It felt wrong leaving him there,” Khadgar said quietly, pushing himself into a sitting position and trying to hide his winces. Every muscle seemed to ache. “His place is here, among his friends and his people.”
“Why the hell did you go alone; do you have a death wish?”
“I knew you'd make a big deal out of it,” Khadgar explained. “I also knew it'd be faster for me to just port in and out. There was no need to worry you.”
“Yeah, well, it's a bit late for that.”
“I'm fine, Lothar. Everything was fine.”
“You were attacked! You could've been killed!” Lothar shouted. “Why won't you let me keep you safe?”
“I'm supposed to be the Guardian, isn't it my job to keep you safe now?”
“Khadgar,” Lothar sighed, “do you always have to be so difficult?”
“Just imagine how much more boring your life would be without me.”
Lothar smiled, thankfully, and pulled him into a tight hug, Khadgar couldn’t help the groan of pain that fell from his lips, “I wish you would've told me you were going, but thank you for doing it. You're right; it didn't feel right knowing he was still in that place alone.” He pulled away, just enough to make eye contact. “But next time, please don't go alone, alright?”
“Alright.”
“How are you feeling?” Lothar asked.
“I've been better,” Khadgar groaned, “but I've also been much worse.”
Lothar worried his bottom lip between his teeth, “I can get a healer up here to tend to your wounds.”
“I’m fine, Lothar,” he insisted. “I’ve never been a big fan of healing magic—it can dim your own magic sometimes and that’s not something I’m prepared to deal with right now.”
“I don’t like seeing you in pain.”
“I’ll be fine in no time. Just sore and tired,” Khadgar assured, “I just need to rest a bit.”
Lothar rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “About that,” he said, “the service for Medivh is scheduled to take place this evening, do you think you'll be okay to go?”
“That’s so soon,” Khadgar marvelled, waving off Lothar’s concerns. “How are they preparing everything in time?”
“Almost all of Stormwind is helping,” Lothar smiled sadly. “Llane figured that the sooner we put him to rest, the sooner we would all be able to begin the healing process. I think he still fears that there's more coming, he wants to make sure everyone is prepared.”
“He's a good King,” Khadgar stated, though he doubted he needed to tell that to Lothar. “He cares so much for his people, it's admirable.”
“The people always come first for Llane. Their safety and happiness are his top priority. It's why I'll fight alongside him until the bitter end.”
“And I'll fight alongside you, if you'll let me.” Lothar's smile faltered just slightly, just enough to cause concern. Khadgar looked away and tried to hide the hurt in his voice, “Or I can stay out of your way.”
Lothar reached out, grabbing his hand, “No, Khadgar, that's not—I didn't mean it like that. Of course I want you fighting next to us. I just… I want to keep you safe, too.”
“You've helped me more than I can ever try to explain,” Khadgar said gently, squeezing Lothar's hand. “But I'm not the same guy you found in that alleyway, Lothar. I might not be as strong as you physically, but with my magic I can hold my own in a battle.”
“I know,” he smiled, “I know. You’ve more than proven yourself to me, spell-chucker.”
Khadgar's heart swelled at the compliment. Once again, Lothar seemed to be there to quiet all his doubts. But Lothar's drunken comment just kept playing over, and over again in his mind.
“You can't trust me?”
“Not with my heart.”
He wondered if Lothar even remembered the altercation. If he did, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it. The statement pretty much confirmed all the things that Khadgar feared. That before he left their relationship was bordering on something more. Not for the first time, he wished he wouldn't have had to leave. But now that he was back, he had the chance to make things right. He had to make things right.
Lothar had sentenced Khadgar to spend the remainder of the day in his room, resting and recharging. When he was finally permitted to leave his rooms, it was a mere half hour before the ceremony was due to take place. Taria came by to give him new, black robes and to let him know that Lothar would be meeting him just outside the palace gates. He felt confident as he dressed but now, as he walked out of the safety of the palace walls, he couldn't help but feel as if he stood out.
Lothar was waiting just where Taria said he would be, dressed in black attire of his own and looking rather breathtaking. Seeing him eased some of the nervousness that had seeped into Khadgar’s mind. He smiled, and though it was tinged with sadness it still made Khadgar’s heart flutter.
“Are you ready?” Lothar asked quietly.
“As I'll ever be.”
They walked down the streets of Stormwind in silence. The city was more beautiful than ever, glowing from the light of the thousands of candles that lines the streets. Flower petals were strewn about, giving the entire city a subtly beautiful smell. But the closer they got to the chapel, the more real everything began to feel. Khadgar was determined to control his emotions for once, to not let himself show the weakness and break down as he seemed to do so often. He was supposed to be the next Guardian; he needed to be strong, the people needed to see him as strong.
Cathedral Square was filled with people, all crowded outside the chapel. They parted for Lothar and Khadgar, many reaching out to touch their shoulders in a show of solidarity. They mourned their Guardian, but they understood that what they were feeling couldn’t begin to compare to the pain those who were close to him were feeling.
The inside of the chapel was just as beautiful, if not more. There were more candles, throwing a soft light across the room that bounced off the coloured stained glass and gave the grand room a beautiful glow. Taria and Llane stood at the front of the room, right next to the priest who would be heading the ceremony. In front of them was Medivh, laying on a table covered in plush white pillows and even more flowers. Khadgar felt Lothar tense next to him as his eyes landed on his old friend, but he barely faltered as he directed Khadgar to their spot next to the King and Queen with a gentle hand on his lower back.
When they reached the pair, Taria pulled him into another tight hug, much like the one he received when she brought his robes. “You worried us, Khadgar,” the King said quietly next to her. “But thank you for what you did.”
Khadgar just nodded, not trusting his voice. He wanted to slink back into the crowd, become invisible, but he was the Guardian now; he was expected to stand with the royals. He was expected to be someone for the public to look up to. The priest raised his hands, and the hum of idle chatter died almost instantly. He began the ceremony with a recap of Medivh’s life, and all that he'd accomplished.
Khadgar stared forward, focusing on his breathing and keeping himself calm. Lothar stepped closer, his hand finding its way to Khadgar’s. It was a surprise, but the rough warmth of Lothar’s palm did wonders to help keep him calm. He squeezed gently, letting his eyes drift to the commander’s face. He looked so sad, so emotionally broken. He seemed to be struggling to keep his composure just as much as Khadgar, and the he could only imagine how much worse it was for him.
The ceremony was beautiful. Medivh had accomplished so much in his life—he was loved greatly and widely as the Guardian and as a friend. Thankfully the priest didn't go into detail on his death. He said it was a great tragedy and that Lothar and Khadgar had done everything they could to save him, but were unable. Khadgar was glad he didn't mention anything about the demon, or the fact that Medivh had died at his hands. The people didn't need to have that image taint the pleasant view of their past Guardian, or their future one.
After the speech had finished, the King stepped forward to address his people. “It's with the heaviest of hearts that we have to say goodbye to Medivh today. He was a beloved friend to me and my family, and this sudden loss has definitely shaken us,” he turned briefly, looking back at Lothar and Khadgar. “Lothar and Khadgar fought hard to save Medivh, but the forces they were working against were too strong if it weren't for Lothar’s strength, and Khadgar’s quick thinking, they could've faced the same fate as our Guardian. We're glad to have them here today.
“We need to take inspiration from their strength and courage and use it to persevere. Medivh served for many years as an incredible force for us to rely on, and he would want us to keep living and enjoying the peace he fought to ensure for us. Today I ask that instead of mourning his death, we celebrate his life. And tomorrow, we approach the new day with our heads held high and positivity in our hearts, because it is up to us now to continue his legacy.”
The crowd all rose to their feet as the last words left the King’s lips, a quiet applause filling the chapel. Llane once again proved why he made such a great king; even in a time of such sadness he managed to lift the spirits of his people. Khadgar felt a tear roll down his cheek, unable to hold it back any longer. He tried to keep his head held high, tried to keep his composure, but it was all too much.
He ducked his head, trying desperately to hide his breakdown, when Lothar squeezed his hand, “It's okay to cry, Khadgar,” he said quietly. “It's not weakness, it's compassion. The people will not see it as a negative thing.”
He squeezed his hand again, and then let go. Khadgar looked up, watching as him and Llane moved up with two other soldiers Khadgar couldn't name to lift the wood Medivh was laying on. The lifted it onto their shoulders and began their journey to the graveyard. Taria took Lothar’s spot next to Khadgar, her hand replacing her brothers and giving him the strength to move forward; to follow the body of his mentor through the streets of Stormwind.
He could feel the eyes of the people on him as they walked. Khadgar knew that their gazes were empathetic or sad, not judgemental or suspicious, but he couldn't help but feel like he let them down. He couldn't save their beloved Guardian, yet he was supposed to take over that role. It felt like forever before they finally reached the graveyard. Khadgar watched alongside Taria as Medivh was slowly lowered into the ground.
The burial passed in a blur. Before Khadgar realized it, everyone was leaving and only him and Lothar were left standing in front of the fresh grave. “He's really gone,” Khadgar said quietly. “I… I'm sorry, Lothar.”
“Don't apologize, Khadgar. His death is not on your hands.”
“How am I supposed to fill the space he left behind?” He asked, a tremble in his voice giving away the fear and anxiety that had been growing since Llane asked him to be Guardian. “I studied under him for less than a year, there is so much I still don't know how to do. I can't… I can't save one person, how can I be of any help to Azeroth?”
Lothar grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “You will make a great Guardian, just as Medivh did. You've got to remember that he had years to learn. He locked himself up in Karazhan and studied endlessly. But when he first got the job? He was no better than you, Khadgar.”
“I just don't want to let everyone down.”
“I know, but you won't. We believe in you, I believe in you. You're capable of greatness, bookworm.”
Khadgar smiled, leaning his head against Lothar's shoulder. He expected to be shrugged off, but instead Lothar rested his head against Khadgar's. They stood like that for a while, and Khadgar felt surprisingly calm for the first time since Medivh's death. Lothar tended to do that, though. He made Khadgar feel like he could accomplish more than he ever dreamed of growing up. Most importantly, Lothar made him feel like he had a home.
“What do you say we go for a drink?” Lothar asked. “I don't know about you, but I'm not quite ready to be alone yet.”
“I would like that.”
Lothar decided to head to a tavern in the Mage’s District. He wasn't terribly familiar with the area, but he knew that it tended to be emptier than the other districts, and he really didn't feel like dealing with people at the moment. Except Khadgar, he thought, glancing behind him at the mage. He looked pretty shaken still—whether from his trip to Karazhan, or from the funeral, Lothar didn't know. His heart ached for Khadgar as much as it did for himself. He may not've spent as much time with Medivh, but he considered him a mentor. And Lothar could tell he felt responsible for the Guardian’s death; it was a look he was all too used to seeing in the mirror.
The tavern was empty, as expected. The barman seemed shocked to see patrons, but gladly led the pair to a table tucked away in the back. It provided a nice amount a privacy for the two regardless of the emptiness. Lothar ordered a pint for the both of them, and the barman hurried off to fetch their drinks. They sat in silence as they waited. Lothar's mind kept drifting back to the last time they were sat across from each other in a tavern. To what he said.
Not with my heart. It had been so… so pathetic. He had been drunk, and his heart longed for the mage, but he had been hurt. Khadgar had hurt him—Khadgar had left him. Then he'd come back, and everything Lothar felt for him came barreling back. And he just wants to be angry, as he should've been, but all he wanted to do was hold him. All he wanted to do was stop dancing around what was obviously between them.
When the barman finally returned with their drinks, both were left untouched. Lothar stared at his. A year ago, before he met Khadgar, he would've drowned himself in drink at the loss of a dear friend. But now… now he just didn't feel like he needed to. For once, he wanted to have a level head, to not blur the world around him.
“Are you alright?” Khadgar asked, finally breaking their silence.
“I think so,” Lothar admitted honestly.
Khadgar reached across the table, gently resting his hand over Lothar's for a moment—then all too soon he was pulling away. Lothar reached out quickly, grabbing Khadgar's hand and holding it tightly. He didn’t look into the mage’s eyes, instead focusing his gaze on their joined hands. He began rubbing gentle circles into Khadgar’s palm, marvelling at how normal it felt. How nice it felt.
“When you left I was angry,” he began, knowing it was about time to get everything out on the table. “I thought everything you said was true and it hurt. I thought we… I thought something was beginning between us, and then you left. You ran away. I know now that you were just doing what you thought was best, but it doesn't change the fact that you hurt me, Khadgar.
“When a guard told me you were back, I thought seeing you was going to bring that anger back,” Lothar looked up briefly, just long enough to see the regret on Khadgar's face, “but it didn't. When I saw you again after so long all I wanted to do was hold you. I wanted to be angry, but I wasn't. You were barely back, and already I was being pulled back to you. I thought I didn't want that, so I tried to keep you at a distance.
“When you appeared in my room this morning, barely conscious and injured, I realized how wrong I was. I realized that the thought of losing you was absolutely terrifying,” he took a deep breath. “Losing Medivh made me realize that those we love can be taken from us far too soon. Life is too short to avoid happiness… to avoid love when it's there. Khadgar, from the moment I found you, you mesmerized me. Even weak and voiceless, you captured my attention completely.
“When my wife died, I thought that was it for me,” Lothar said quietly, finally looking up to meet Khadgar’s eyes fully. “But then you came along, and I realized I might've been given another chance at that happiness. I don't want to lose it again.”
He waited for Khadgar to respond. To say something—anything—but the mage just stared at him. Unease stared to rise in Lothar's gut. He started to wonder if maybe he'd read the situation completely wrong. Khadgar had spent most of his life free from affection, maybe he just didn't know what to do. Maybe Lothar was reading more into it than what was actually there. Embarrassed, he released Khadgar's hand and dropped his gaze. But before he could even begin to feel hurt, Khadgar was reaching for his hand again.
“I… I hated leaving you,” he said, voice trembling. “It destroyed me to have to say what I did, Lothar. For the first time in my life, I was feeling all these emotions, this… attraction that had never been there before. I didn't want to leave, but I had to. When I returned, I was so scared I had lost you, and then you said you didn't trust me… I'm so sorry.”
“It's in the past, Khadgar. You did what you had to do, I understand that now.”
“I would really love to have the chance to be with you, if you'd let me.”
Pairing: LionTrust (Khadgar/Lothar)
WC: 2962
Summary: Khadgar had never been late to class in nearly 5 years of college, he sure as hell wasn't going to be late today.
Prompt: I was late to class and crashed into you on my way there and instead of helping you out I swore in your face and now the prof is late and oh god it’s you.
A/N: Saw this prompt in the liontrust tag, couldn't resist! Hopefully this makes up for the fact that I sadly won't be posting a chapter of From Darkness Comes Light today because of work. ): Hope you enjoy!
Khadgar prided himself on his punctuality. He was entering his fifth, and hopefully last, year of college and he had yet to be late for a class. He was the guy that usually showed up ten minutes early and sat outside re-reading the textbook. He just took his studies seriously, okay? With the amount he was paying to go to college, he couldn’t afford to be late.
He’d made it four and a half years without being late for a class, and then out of nowhere his alarm decided it was just going to stop working, and without an alarm Khadgar just didn’t wake up. Whatever “body clock” people claimed to have? Yeah, he didn’t have one. But thank god for roommates. Specifically Garona who, by some miracle, knew he had class at 10 am every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. He had no idea how she knew considering it was the first day of the semester and even he had to write his schedule down to remember, but he could’ve kissed her. If, y’know, he wasn’t gay.
Unfortunately, she didn’t notice he was still there until 9:45, and their apartment was nearly fifteen minutes away from campus. If he ran. Generally, he liked to look good on the first day of class. College was what many considered your first ‘professional job’ (that you had to pay for, he wished he could get paid to study all day), after all. But all Khadgar had time to do was throw on his nearest pair of jeans and a sweater. He was sure his hair was a terrible mess, and he had really wanted to shave today but there was no time.
In a record breaking 5 minutes, he was out the door and sprinting as fast as he could across campus. Not for the first time, he cursed the fact that the History department was literally the farthest building from their apartment. He was so close—he could see the building. His lungs were burning as he ran because, honestly, he was a bookworm. He didn’t exactly exercise.
Khadgar pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time, and almost as soon as he glanced down he ran directly into someone. Which was weird, because he was pretty sure there wasn’t anyone there when he looked down. With the speed he was going, Khadgar ended up knocking them both to the ground. He ended up, rather unfortunately, lying on top of the guy. He felt himself flush at that realization because the man lying under him wasn’t exactly unattractive. He had a decently full beard and longer hair, half of which was pulled back into a bun that Khadgar would normally hate but damn if it didn’t work for this guy.
The sound of the clock tower chiming pulled Khadgar out of his flushed panic because holy fuck he was going to be late. He stood quickly, brushing his pants off and grabbing his belongings from the ground. “You really should watch where you’re fucking going,” he said, angrier at himself than the man but needing to take it out on someone. “I mean, it’s not like I’m easy to miss, Jesus.”
And with that incredibly articulate statement, he continued running towards his class. Khadgar was pretty sure he could hear the man scolding him, pointing out that he was the one looking down at his phone, but he really didn’t have time to argue. Especially because the man was right.
Khadgar finally got to class at 10:05. Five minutes late. He was ashamed of himself, but the professor wasn’t there yet so he counted that as a win. He got a lot of weird looks as he fell heavily into a seat in the front row, heaving for breath, face flushed, and covered in sweat. But he made it before the professor, so fuck their judgement. He pulled out his planner and notebook, as he did every first class, and waited for their professor to show up.
He glanced at the clock again, 10:08. Khadgar really hoped their prof wasn’t going to be the type that was late to every class because his tuition paid for a full 110 minutes, and it really pissed him off when 10 of those minutes ended up paying for the professor to go get a coffee before class. Honestly, so unprofessional.
However, when the professor finally did walk into the room at 10:11, Khadgar knew exactly why he was late. And from the look on the guy’s face, he recognized him too. He glared at Khadgar as he walked across the room to the desk next to the window. He continued to glare as he slammed his satchel down on said desk, and pulled out a whiteboard marker. Khadgar swallowed nervously as he walked over to stand directly in front of him.
“Sorry for my tardiness, class,” he said, and wow. Wow his voice was really nice. “Some asshole wasn’t paying attention as he ran like a maniac across campus and slammed into me.”
Khadgar smiled weakly, mouthing a sorry that only made the guy’s frown more. He turned on his heal and scrawled his name, office information, and the class name on the board. “I’m Professor Anduin Lothar, you can all address me as Lothar,” he crossed his arms. “I mean it. I will not answer to Professor, and I will kick you out if you try to call me Anduin. Everyone got it?”
There was a hum of acknowledgement from the class and for the first time since arriving, Lothar smiled. Khadgar felt himself melt. “Good. So this is History 320, War in the Middle Ages. Everyone in the right place?”
Khadgar was really, really glad that he was.
Lothar was surprised to find the asshole who knocked him over in his class. Surprised and rather annoyed. He was more surprised, however, when said kid actually had the balls to approach him after the class was over. He leaned against the desk, crossed his arms across his chest, and rose an eyebrow, waiting for the kid to speak.
“So,” he said, looking rightfully nervous, “I kind of owe you an apology.”
“You don’t say.”
“I may’ve overreacted a bit this morning when we ran into each other.”
“You mean when you ran into me,” Lothar provided, “because I wasn’t the one not paying attention to the people in front of me.”
The kid blushed, and it was kind of amusing. “Okay, yes. So it was completely my fault. But in my defense, I was trying not to be late to your class.”
“I would’ve preferred you be late.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have?” Khadgar said, though it came out more like a question. “I’ve actually never been late to a class, so…”
“You mean until today.”
“What?”
“You were late today—to this class. So you had never been late to a class, until today.”
Khadgar’s mouth opened in an ‘oh’ shape, but he shook his head quickly. “Doesn’t count, I got here before the professor.”
“I count it,” Lothar said, more out of spite than anything. “In fact, I’m going to say that’s your one tardy for the semester, Mr. Punctual.”
“Khadgar,” the kid said. “My name is Khadgar.”
“Huh, bizarre,” Lothar said, mostly to hide the fact that the uniqueness of the name, much like the person, intrigued him. “Well, I’ll see you on Friday Khadgar. Don’t be late.”
The kid actually looked offended at the statement.
“Garona!” Khadgar yelled as he walked into their shared apartment. He didn’t even know if she was home, but holy fuck he needed to tell someone about whatever the hell had happened this morning. Thankfully, she padded out of the kitchen with a cup of tea and a concerned expression.
“Did you make it to class on time?”
“Technically,” Khadgar said, “except not really. I was five minutes late, but I beat the professor, but the professor gave me a late anyway.”
“What, why?”
“I, uh, I might’ve run into him on the way to class?” Khadgar asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “Like… physically slammed into him? We both ended up on the ground.”
“Jesus, Khadgar…”
“And I might’ve swore at him and not helped him up.”
“God damnit, kid. What the hell?”
Khadgar groaned and fell onto their couch, “I didn’t want to be late. And, um. I might’ve been a bit flustered because something out there hates me and he’s really fucking pretty.”
“Oh, Khadgar,” Garona sighed, tapping his legs. He lifted them long enough to allow her to sit and let them fall back onto her lap. “You’re going to have a fun semester, kid.”
“Why did he have to be pretty?” Khadgar groaned into the couch cushions, pretty sure she couldn’t even hear him. “Why can’t I meet pretty people that aren’t my professor and don’t end up hating me?”
“That would be too easy,” Garona chuckled, patting his calves apologetically. “I have something to make you feel better, though.”
“The newest book in the Guardian series?”
She sighed, as she usually did when he talked about his books. “No, Khadgar. I got us invited to a party.”
“No thank you.”
“Oh, c’mon. It’ll be fun, take your mind off your professor.”
“I don’t want to go to a college party. They’re boring.”
“There’s going to be older guys,” she sing-songed. “Guys with actual careers and accomplishments that don’t involve beer or pong.”
Khadgar heaved a sigh, “Fine.” He’d go to the party, to make her happy. But he wasn’t going to promise to enjoy it.
The party was just as loud as any other frat party Garona had dragged him to. It was held in some house that belonged to God knows who, and almost before they even got inside Khadgar wanted nothing more than to leave. Garona insisted on introducing him to someone, though. Some guy she met in her Sociology of War class that was apparently ‘really interesting.’ As he was pulled through the house he managed to get his hands on three cups of some kind of alcohol, all of which he downed in one go. If he was getting through this night, he sure as hell wasn’t doing it sober.
He picked up his fourth cup as they reached the guy Garona had been talking about. He smiled bright when he spotted them, shouting a greeting over the loud music. “Garona, hey!”
“How’s it going?” She yelled back. “I want you to meet my friend, Khadgar. Khadgar, this is Llane!”
“Hi.”
“He doesn’t like parties,” she explained, and Llane chuckled.
“I should introduce you to my friend, he’s the same!” Khadgar really didn’t want to meet his friend, but Garona had a really firm grip on his arm. So they were off again, and Khadgar managed to make it up to his eighth cup before Llane spotted the guy. He was sitting in the corner, Khadgar’s usual spot, and it wasn’t until they had actually reached him that Khadgar realized why he looked so familiar.
“You!” Lothar shouted. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Anduin, what the hell?” Llane asked.
“That’s the prick that ran into me on my way to my first class!” Lothar growled. “Asshole made me late.”
“Your first class?” Khadgar giggled. He couldn’t help it; he was pretty sure he reached drunk a cup or two ago. “That’s adorable.”
The statement just made Lothar angrier. Thankfully, or not so thankfully Khadgar couldn’t decide—the guy was attractive, Llane stepped in. “Woah, woah, woah. Let’s not overreact, okay? How about Garona and I go get some drinks while you guys talk out your differences.”
Garona looked concerned, but when she opened her mouth to speak Llane dragged her away. Leaving Khadgar standing on his own in front of Lothar. He was okay for about .5 seconds before the room started to sway. He heard Lothar swear, and then there were hands on his waist and oooh, those were warm and quite nice. He was guided onto the couch, Lothar falling heavily onto the seat next to him. Khadgar smiled, and let himself fall against the man. He couldn’t help it; he was really warm.
“What are you doing.” Lothar deadpanned.
“Shh, you’re comfortable,” Khadgar answered. “And I might be a little not sober.”
“You don’t say.”
“I don’t like parties,” he said of way of explanation. Lothar hummed, seeming to understand. “I am sorry about running into you today, just so you know.”
“Yeah, well. It happens, I guess.”
“I would normally have helped you up,” Khadgar said.
“Right, but you were going to be late.”
He shook his head against Lothar’s shoulder, “You’re just really, really attractive, and I was on top of you and that was super embarrassing so I kind of panicked.”
He felt rather than heard Lothar chuckle above him. He was glad the anger had calmed down a little. “I guess I forgive you, kid.”
“Not a kid.”
“Oh, c’mon. What are you, 20?”
“Excuse you, I am 24,” Khadgar huffed. “What are you, 40?”
“How are you.”
“Yeah, not so nice is it, old man?”
“You’re really testing your luck, kid,” Lothar said, his voice gravelly and deep. The sound was making Khadgar’s body react in ways that probably weren’t appropriate considering 1. this was his professor, and 2. Lothar didn’t even like him.
“Then stop calling me kid, old man,” he teased. Lothar’s arm snaked around his waist, and Khadgar froze. He was about to question what was going on when Lothar started—started tickling him. “Lothar,” he heaved between laughing, “Lothar stop I’m going to hurl.”
The hands stopped immediately, and Khadgar fell back against him. Except he miscalculated the distance in his intoxicated state and instead of his head ending up on Lothar’s shoulder, it ended up in his lap. Part of him knew he should move, but the less reasonable and drunk part was far too comfortable. Instead, he pulled his knees to his chest and made himself more comfortable. “Khadgar,” Lothar said. “You probably shouldn’t…”
Khadgar hushed him, “I’m comfortable.”
Lothar didn’t say anything else, and Khadgar felt himself dozing off. He never did last long once he was drunk—sleep was definitely his favorite thing in the world.
When Khadgar finally blinked his eyes open the following morning he was aware of a few things immediately. 1. He was not in his room, 2. The only thing he was wearing was boxers, and 3. There was someone snoring next to him. He took a deep breath and allowed himself to look to his left. When his eyes landed on none other than fucking Anduin Lothar, he felt himself stop breathing.
“Shit,” he hissed under his breath. “Shit, fuck, shit.”
Had he slept with his professor? Could he get kicked out for sleeping with his professor? They were both legal and, presumably, consenting adults. Morally, it was wrong. But legally they had to be okay. Right? He tried to calm himself down, glancing another look at Lothar. He looked so calm, so peaceful as he slept. His long hair fell messily around his face, and his lips were parted just slightly.
Taking a final, deep breath, Khadgar decided it’d probably be best to wake him up and find out what the fuck happened. So he poked Lothar’s cheek. The man’s eyebrows furrowed together, and he blinked one eye open, “What the fuck.”
“Um,” Khadgar said, his voice unsurprisingly hoarse, “that was my question exactly, actually.”
“What time is it, even?”
Khadgar glanced at the clock on the bedside table next to them, “6:30?”
“Oh my god,” Lothar groaned, “why are you up, you asshole.”
“Lothar,” Khadgar said, finding himself actually more than a little scared despite how desperately he was trying to stay calm. It must’ve come across in his voice, because both of the man’s eyes opened to stare into his own. “Did we… I mean, we didn’t…”
“No, we didn’t,” Lothar promised, and Khadgar let out a sigh of relief. “Trust me kid, you would’ve remembered if we did. Though it’s insulting that you seem to think I’m that bad in bed.”
Khadgar blushed. “That’s not what I was insinuating. I was just… I was really drunk.”
“I know. Garona didn’t want to drag your ass all the way back to your apartment, so I let you stay here.”
“I’m sorry.” Khadgar said at the same time Lothar said, “I wouldn’t dare make a move on someone who was drunk.”
“Wait,” he said, the statement beginning to register in his hungover mind, “but if I hadn’t been drunk.” Lothar just shrugged. “Oh. But, uh. You’re my professor.”
“You say that like this doesn’t happen surprisingly often,” Lothar stated, stretching his arms high above his head and revealing a bare and muscular chest that made Khadgar’s heartbeat quicken. “At least this wouldn’t be about you getting an easy A. Unless… you’re not that stupid are you?”
“I’m offended you’d even suggest that.”
Lothar chuckled, “As I thought.”
“So are you suggesting that we do this again sometime? Like, when I’m not drunk?”
“Why not,” Lothar smiled. “You seem fun.”
Khadgar couldn’t help but laugh, “Can I get that on record? Garona would never believe anyone ever used ‘fun’ and ‘me’ in the same sentence.”
“Oh?”
“I like my books. She just doesn’t understand.”
Again, Lothar laughed. One of his arms snaked its way around Khadgar’s shoulder, pulling him against his chest, “Go back to sleep, bookworm. We’ll talk about this more when it’s not so fucking early.”
Khadgar couldn’t help but smile, nuzzling himself against Lothar. He still wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not, but damn if he wasn’t okay with it.
Pairing: LionTrust (Khadgar/Lothar)
WC: 4252
Summary: To leave the most prestigious society of mages, one was expected to make a fitting sacrifice. The words that he spoke to renounce his vows would be the last to ever leave his lips. Because without his voice, he would no longer be able to use is magic.
To leave the Kirin Tor, Khadgar had to give up the biggest part of himself.
Just when things seemed to hit their worst, a mysterious stranger came to save him from the hell he was living.
Warnings: Mentions of abuse (physical, emotional, sexual), later mentions of rape/sexual assault, nothing super graphic but enough that warnings are needed.
First | Previous | Next
“The Fel?” Lothar asked, twisting himself in the saddle to look Khadgar in the eyes. “What is that?”
“It's—it’s magic, dark magic. From what I've read, those who wield it pull their power from life forces. It's addictive, promising great power, but the cost…” He shook his head solemnly, “Fel corrupts everything it touches.”
“So if Karazhan is infected, does that mean Medivh…”
“No. He can't, it's not possible,” Khadgar bit his lip, clearly unsure of himself. “Mages can't access the Fel—we rely on the arcane.”
“So if Medivh isn't the one doing that, what is?”
Khadgar’s arms tightened around him, “I don't know.”
“We should wait for the soldiers I sent to arrive,” Lothar decided, urging his mount down towards the ground.
“Are you out of your mind?” Khadgar shouted. “We have to go now—who knows how bad things are up there. We need to make sure Medivh is okay.”
“Listen to yourself, Khadgar,” Lothar said as they landed heavily on solid ground. “We have no idea what's waiting for us up there. Going alone could be suicide.”
“That's a risk I'm willing to take. My mentor, your friend could be up there fighting who knows what alone. I can't just sit around and wait for a bunch of guards to show up.”
“We need to think this through, Khadgar!” Lothar shouted, dismounting. “I'm just as worried as you are, but we can't be reckless. We can't just march in there without a plan. We can't help if we’re dead the minute we get in the door.”
He began to pace absentmindedly in front of the gryphon. He could feel Khadgar’s eyes on him, angry and completely stubborn as always. Not for the first time, Lothar wished he would just listen to him. He was damn tired of Khadgar thinking he knew what was best. He was a kid, for one, and he spent most of his life living in Dalaran. Sure, the Kirin Tor was rough, but he had no idea what it was like to go into battle. He was just such a child sometimes.
“This is ridiculous,” Khadgar huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I'm not just going to sit here and wait idly. If you want to wait for your soldiers, fine. But I'm going now.”
“Khadgar—”
“No, I don't care. You can come with me or not, but I'm going now,” he, too, dismounted and began drawing runes on the ground.
“What are you doing?”
“Drawing up a portal.”
“You’re going to waste your energy.”
“Yes, well, I don't really have a choice.”
“Damnit, Khadgar!” Lothar shouted. “You're so damn stubborn. I'm not going to let you go in there alone, you know that.”
“I'm not wasting another minute waiting.”
“Just get on the bloody bird!” Lothar hissed, climbing on himself and trying to resist the urge to strangle the mage. He slowed the mount down as they reached the tower. Even he could feel the pulse of the energy—of the Fel. He landed at the base of the tower, and Khadgar was out of the saddle almost before the gryphon’s feet had hit the ground. Lothar dismounted, too, and told his bird to stay put.
He pulled the bag with his armour off the saddle and ran after Khadgar, thankfully catching him at the base of the stairs with a hand on his arm, “Would you hang on two seconds, spell-chucker?”
“There's no time.”
“I just need to put my armour on, Khadgar,” the mage looked like he was going to argue but thankfully, for his sake, he didn't. Lothar pulled his armour on with practiced ease, trying to blame the heaviness of the plate for the uncomfortable feeling in his chest. When he was ready, he nodded for Khadgar to continue, and they began their long journey up the stairs.
They stopped just before reaching the top so Lothar could catch his breath, which Khadgar had rolled his eyes at until Lothar reminded him that he was wearing full plate armour. While they waited they finally became aware of the noises from above. They were inhuman, unlike anything Lothar had ever heard. Even Khadgar, in all his determination, faltered at the sounds.
They shared a look and quietly creeped up the remaining stairs, making sure to stay close to the walls in hopes of getting a look at what they were facing before they attacked. The whole energy chamber was glowing green. The pool of arcane energy was no longer blue and bright, but green. The Fel, Lothar assumed. Before he could signal for them to advance, someone, no… something walked into the Fel pool in the centre of the room.
“What is that?” Lothar whispered, but when he looked over at Khadgar the mage was white as a sheet. His eyes were wide, and his lips parted slightly in shock. “Khadgar, what is it?”
“That's…” he tore his eyes from the creature, looking at Lothar instead, “that's Medivh.”
Khadgar was aware of Lothar talking, asking questions, but it was like he was hearing it underwater. He was still trying to process that the creature, Fel-infused and dangerous, was Medivh. He didn't want to believe it, but it was clear as day. Medivh had been possessed, that was the only way to explain it. Mages couldn't use the Fel, but they could be taken over by demons just like everyone else.
“Khadgar,” Lothar hissed, bringing him to with a hand on his arm. “Are you sure that's Medivh?”
“Positive.”
“But you said mages couldn't—”
“They can't. He's… he's been possessed. By a demon. A powerful one from the looks of things.”
“What do we do? How do we get it out?”
Khadgar shook his head, “We don't; we can't.”
“Then what are we supposed to do?”
“We… we have to…” he could feel tears stinging his eyes. Once again, his emotions took control. He was supposed to be strong, but he couldn't. He couldn't do what he knew had to be done.
“What, Khadgar? We have to what?
“We have to kill him—it. We have to kill it,” he said quietly.
“And when we do? What happens to Medivh?”
Khadgar looked away, casting his eyes to the floor. He couldn’t say the words, couldn’t hurt Lothar again. He wished there was another way, wanted nothing more than to save his mentor, but the demon was so strong… Khadgar had no way of separating it from Medivh, and they couldn’t just let it live on. It was only a matter of time before it moved past Karazhan—moved to Stormwind.
Lothar seemed to understand, and though Khadgar expected him to argue, he did not. He looked broken, sad. Already preparing to deal with the loss of a dear friend, “I’m sorry, Lothar.”
“We do what we must, for Stormwind.”
Khadgar nodded, and scanned the room. There was nothing to use against him other than Lothar’s brute force and his magic. He just hoped that’d be enough, “It’s now or never.”
“Then let’s do this, together.” Lothar said, pulling his sword from its sheath. Khadgar nodded, and began to prep a spell. With a final, deep breath, he threw his hands forward, straight towards Medivh. It pulled his attention to Khadgar, exactly as he’d wanted it to. It began walking in his direction, out of the Fel pool. Lothar took the hint and charged while the demon was distracted, but before he could so much as raise his sword, Medivh’s head was whipping around and Lothar was being held in the air by a hand of green, Fel magic. Khadgar could hear the crunching of plate, and he knew he had to act. He shouted a spell, which the demon easily deflected, but Lothar was dropped to the floor. As he wanted.
He watched as Lothar slipped behind the giant golem that Medivh had started carving earlier in the month. Khadgar took the opportunity as Medivh searched for him to join Lothar behind the clay. “What’s the plan, mage?” Lothar asked.
“I don’t know, it’s too strong.”
“I told you we should’ve waited for my men to arrive.”
“That wouldn’t have helped,” Khadgar said. “It’s a miracle we’re still alive. Did you not notice Moroes when we entered? He had the life sucked from him—Medivh would’ve easily done so with your soldiers.”
“Then why hasn’t he done that to us?”
Khadgar shrugged, “Maybe… maybe Medivh is in there somewhere, conscious enough to recognize us. I don’t know, Lothar. Just be glad.”
Before Lothar could respond, Medivh began to chuckle in front of them. “What a fun idea! There’s two of you; only makes sense for me to even out the battle, does it not?”
Above them, the golem was infused with Fel magic, slowly coming to life. “Oh, great,” Lothar said. “Got any ideas what to do with this?”
Khadgar stared wide-eyed up at the golem, then to Medivh, then to Lothar. This situation was just getting worse, and honestly he had no idea how to handle it. Medivh was one thing, but now a golem, too? Lothar groaned, “I’ll deal with this, spell-chucker. You figure out how to stop Medivh.”
Khadgar nodded, and began to climb to the second floor of the energy chamber, hearing Lothar jump in front of the golem behind him. “Hey, over here! Clay face!” The next sound he heard was very distinctively stone being smashed, and Lothar shouting. He desperately hoped that the Commander would be able to handle the creature on his own. Not that Khadgar was feeling very confident in his ability to handle Medivh on his own. He just needed time to think, to figure out how to stop this thing. He’d read so many books in his year with Medivh, much to the Guardians annoyance, there had to be something.
Before he could think for too long, Medivh was heading his way. Khadgar barely had time to react, to shield himself, before the demon was standing before him. He reached out, and his fingertips began to pierce through the magic. Khadgar could feel the panic rising in his throat. He wasn’t strong enough, there was no way he was strong enough to defeat this demon.
The next thing he knew, a heavy stone hand was smashing through the pillar to his right, sending him flying like a child’s ball in his shield to the lower level, leaving Medivh on his own. Khadgar felt glad for a moment, until he realized what that meant—Lothar was now dealing with both the golem and Medivh. He watched in horror as the demon drew a spell and sent it directly towards Lothar. It took all his willpower not to scream.
Lothar had never been so glad for Medivh’s carelessness as he was now, the clay carving tool wrapped around the golem’s neck. He had just enough time to pull, as hard as he could, through the clay as Medivh faced him and a spell fell from his lips. The next thing Lothar knew, he was hanging out the window—the only thing stopping him from falling was his boots in the giant creature’s back.
By some miracle, the golem pulled itself up and forward, instead of falling back out the window, and Lothar found himself back in the chamber. His next problem? The golem was definitely going to crash into the wall, and his boots were very firmly buried in the clay.
“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. He reached down, untying the garments as quickly as he could with shaking hands. The golem was teetering, and he knew it’d be a matter of seconds before he would be crushed between the giant lump of clay and the stone wall. Thankfully, oh Light so thankfully, he managed to untie his boots and jump from the creature with barely seconds to spare, his bare feet landing on the cold stone ground.
Before he had time to take a breath, Khadgar was in his arms. “I don’t think this is the time for hugs, kid.”
“I thought you’d fallen to your death!” The mage hissed. “If I wasn’t so glad to see you, I’d kill you.”
“Have you come up with a plan yet?” Lothar asked.
“Yes,” Khadgar said, then frowned. “Maybe… half a plan? You need to distract Medivh, get him into the pool of Fel.”
“What then?”
“The rest I’ll deal with. You just… don’t get killed.”
“Right, easy,” he clapped Khadgar on the shoulder. “Be careful.”
“You, too,” he said, and ran in the direction of the golem Lothar had just rid himself of.
Lothar ran back to the main level of the chamber, right to where Medivh was waiting. The demon turned on him instantly, a terrible smile distorting his features. He barely looked like Medivh anymore, almost all traces of his friend replaced with demonic features. His eyes… his eyes were the worst. Black as night, until he began to cast. Then that horrible, Fel green.
“Medivh,” Lothar said, “Medivh, if you’re in there somewhere, please. You have to fight this. You’re the strongest mage in Azeroth; if there’s anyone who can do this it’s you.”
“Sorry,” the demon said, and even the voice was distorted; mocking and almost musical, “but Medivh isn’t home right now.”
“I know you’re in there somewhere,” he took a step forward, inching closer ever so slowly. If he could just… shove him into the pool… “We’re all waiting for you, Medivh. We need you.”
He reached out, prepared to push, only to have a hand wrap around his neck, lifting him off the ground. The demon was far stronger than Medivh, and he seemed able to hold Lothar’s weight with ease as he carried him until he was over the Fel pool, feet dangling mere inches above it. “Medivh,” he choked, “Medivh, please.”
The demon threw him backwards, all the way across the space that once held such pure energy. He felt his ankle twist, but forced the pain to the back of his mind. He pushed himself up, slowly, and stared the demon down. “Well, go on. Kill me. I know you can,” he shouted. When the demon didn’t move, Lothar yelled louder. “Come on! I am not afraid to die.”
The demon took a step forward, into the Fel, and then another. He walked towards Lothar slowly, and only became more twisted as he did. The more human features of Medivh were distorted into what was very clearly a demon, horns and all. His eyes were glowing bright green, and that awful smile was even wider.
“Khadgar,” Lothar shouted, “whatever your plan was, do it now! Now, Khadgar! Now, now, now!”
He shouted the mage’s name again, but it was drowned out by the loud smash of the golem, and Khadgar, falling into the pool of Fel—pinning the demon down and leaving it helpless. Lothar smiled, ready to celebrate, when he noticed Khadgar. He was standing slowly from the pool, fingertips glowing with Fel magic and—Lothar couldn’t help but gasp as his eyes faded from the glowing blue arcane… to the Fel green.
He started forward immediately, ready to attack, and Khadgar whipped his head to face him. The next thing Lothar knew, he was held in a barrier, a prison, of magic. But it was blue, arcane; Khadgar’s magic, not the magic of Fel. “Let me out!” He shouted.
“It’s not safe, Lothar.”
“I don’t care, I can help!”
“You can’t, I’m sorry,” Khadgar said, leaning down to put his hand on Medivh’s forehead.
“Khadgar!” Lothar shouted again, but the mage didn’t even blink. He was chanting something, some spell Lothar had never heard. And then, all at once, he was radiating this bright yellow light, filling the entire room until Lothar had no choice but to close his eyes. When he opened them, everything was dark. All traces of Fel seemed to be gone, and Khadgar was kneeling next to the presumably dead Medivh in the now-empty pool, head hung.
Lothar raced to Khadgar, falling to his knees in front of him. His hand went to the mage’s cheek instinctively. “Khadgar,” he said quietly, fear and nervousness rising in his throat. He didn’t know what he’d do if the demon had simply switched hosts, “show me your eyes.”
Khadgar looked up, his eyes the same, beautiful brown that they had always been. Lothar felt relief wash over him as he pushed his hand through Khadgar’s hair, his smile mirroring the one on his face. He pulled him into a tight hug, “I’m proud of you.”
“I’m sorry,” Khadgar said, burying his face into Lothar’s neck. “I… I couldn’t save him. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Lothar said firmly, pulling back so he could look into Khadgar’s eyes. “You did all you could.”
“We did all we could. I would’ve have been able to do this without your help,” he pushed himself to his feet, and began to draw a portal. “Now, let’s go home.”
When they arrived back in Stormwind, Lothar immediately went to find Llane with strict instructions to Khadgar to stay put in either the library or his room, which he was a little shocked to find he still had after his year away. He chose to head there, partially because the thought of reading after what they went through made him feel uneasy, but mostly because he felt so tired after everything they’d done.
He fell onto the bed without bothering to remove even his boots, chuckling at the fact that Lothar had lost his in the battle. But his laughter quickly contorted into full sobs as he let the loss of his mentor sink in. He let himself cry for the first time since he left about losing Lothar, about what he had to do. He cried until his head pounded and exhaustion finally fell over him.
His sleep was restless, plagued by green eyes and Medivh’s lifeless body, distorted by the Fel. He was almost glad when he was woken by Lothar, a gentle hand on his cheek. It was familiar, but only reminded him what he lost. “I’m sorry to wake you,” Lothar said quietly. “But Llane would like to see you.”
“I can leave in the morning,” Khadgar said. “I just… I’m too tired to portal right now, I just need one night—”
“Just come with me.”
Khadgar did as told, because he couldn’t exactly turn down a summons from the King, but the nervousness made him feel like he was going to puke or pass out. Maybe both. He was led to the throne room, where the King and Queen were both waiting. He bowed deeply once they came to a stop. “I owe you an apology, Khadgar,” the King said, and he really wanted to pinch himself because he had to be dreaming.
“Sire, there is nothing you have to be sorry for.”
“I doubted you, mistrusted you because you were a mage bound by no rules,” he explained. “I shouldn’t have been so unfair to you, especially as my wife and Anduin both vouched for your trustworthiness. Magic is forbidden in Stormwind, but if there was ever a time for its use to be justified, it would be in your case.”
He stood from the throne, coming to stand directly in front of Khadgar, who desperately tried not to panic. “You then took it upon yourself to stop Anduin from following you, fully prepared to destroy your relationship with him in order to keep Stormwind safe.”
Khadgar could’ve gone without the reminder of what he lost, but he simply nodded, “It was the right thing to do.”
“So it was,” the King chuckled. “However, I do hope you will accept my formal apology for being so cruel to you. You have more than proven yourself to be a friend to Stormwind, and I appreciate that.”
“Of course I accept your apology,” Khadgar said. “You were just doing what you thought was best.”
“Thank you, Khadgar,” he smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. “There’s just one more matter of business we have to discuss. I understand that Medivh’s death is still very raw in everyone’s heart, and he will be dearly missed, but a new Guardian has to be appointed to take his place. We still don’t know how the demon found its way to Azeroth, and we could be preparing for a battle; Azeroth needs a Guardian.”
“I’m sure the Kirin Tor have been training his replacement,” Khadgar assured. “There were many promising apprentices when I was there.”
“True, but you were the most promising, were you not?”
He felt himself flush, embarrassingly, “Yes, but I renounced my vows.”
“That doesn’t matter. You’ve proven that you’re more than worthy of the position. You even spent a year with Medivh,” the King smiled again. “I would like for you to be the new Guardian, if you would be willing to accept the position?”
“I…” Khadgar looked at him, and the Queen, and finally to Lothar, who was smiling brightly at him, “Are you sure I’m qualified?”
“More than anyone the Kirin Tor could’ve found to replace you in the two years since you left.”
“They’ll be angry,” Khadgar said softly. “They expect to be the ones who make that choice, and they really aren’t fond of me.”
“Yes, well, when it comes down to it I have final say in who is given the position. The Kirin Tor can deal with it.”
Khadgar swallowed around the nervousness in his throat, “In that case, sire, I would be honored.”
Lothar insisted they celebrate his new position, and for the Commander that meant getting very, very drunk. Khadgar tried to protest, he really was tired, but there was a darkness in Lothar’s eyes that suggested he didn’t want to drink just to celebrate, but to forget. So he agreed to go, if not just to make sure Lothar would be okay.
They went to a tavern in the Dwarven District, both knowing better than to try to go back to Old Town. It was unlikely Khadgar would be recognized, but it wasn’t a risk either of them wanted to take. Not on this night. Lothar didn’t say much for the first four mugs of ale. Lots of silly congratulations and teasing Khadgar for not drinking. It wasn’t until mug five or six that the joy in his eyes started to fade, and his voice got softer.
“I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“I’m sorry, Lothar.”
“It’s not your fault, you did all you could,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes and finishing the rest of the ale in the mug in one go. “I just can’t help but wonder what allowed the demon to take over. If we could’ve prevented it.”
“I doubt it; demons are very crafty,” he explained. “They promise great power, amazing things. For some, it’s all too easy to get pulled into that.”
“I just feel like I didn’t do enough for him.”
“He cared for you deeply. You and the King were his best friends, and he was proud of what you both have accomplished.”
Lothar laughed darkly, finishing half of the mug of ale the waitress just placed on the table in one gulp. “So you got pretty close to him in the year you spent running from me, hey?”
“I wasn’t running from you.”
“Really? Because I think not talking to someone for a year would count as running.”
“It was what I had to do.”
“Stop that,” Lothar hissed. “Stop saying that. You don’t know what’s best for me, you can’t choose what’s best for me.”
“You were going to sacrifice everything for a kid you barely knew. I made a calculated guess that maybe you’d regret that with time.”
“You just… you don’t get it, do you?” Lothar slurred, taking another gulp of his drink. “You keep making decisions for me, and you need to just stop it. Like during the fight! You put me behind your damn magic bubble. You could’ve died.”
“Yes, and if you would’ve barrelled right into the fight like you were planning, you would’ve died.”
“You need to stop making decisions for me, Khadgar! I’m a grown man, I can take care of myself!”
“Well sometimes we all need someone else looking out for us, too,” Khadgar shouted back. “Sometimes we need someone to tell us that we’re being stupid. Judgement is easily clouded—that’s why we surround ourselves with people who can help us see what’s right!”
“You hurt me,” Lothar said miserably. He was definitely drunk. “I liked you. I thought—I thought I could’ve moved on, finally, and then you had to go and be an asshole.”
“Lothar…”
“No. What you did wasn’t fair,” he stood, teetering slightly, “and now every time I look at you I can’t see past that. I can’t trust you.”
“You can’t trust me?” Khadgar gaped. “We just fought a demon together and you can’t trust me?”
Lothar shook his head, “Not with my heart.”
Khadgar watched, dumbfounded, as he walked out of the tavern. His brain could barely process what had just happened, what Lothar meant. When things finally started making sense it was far too late—he was gone. Khadgar was left wondering how he could fix what he’d done. And the massive tab that Lothar had managed to rack up in the few hours they’d been there.
Pairing: LionTrust (Khadgar/Lothar)
WC: 3835
Summary: To leave the most prestigious society of mages, one was expected to make a fitting sacrifice. The words that he spoke to renounce his vows would be the last to ever leave his lips. Because without his voice, he would no longer be able to use is magic.
To leave the Kirin Tor, Khadgar had to give up the biggest part of himself.
Just when things seemed to hit their worst, a mysterious stranger came to save him from the hell he was living.
Warnings: Mentions of abuse (physical, emotional, sexual), later mentions of rape/sexual assault, nothing super graphic but enough that warnings are needed.
A/N: <3
First | Previous | Next
—One Year Later—
Khadgar felt anxious as he sat, waiting for Lothar in the small room. He began to flip idly through one of the books on the table in front of him, desperately trying to calm the rising worry and panic in his heart. He tried to stop himself from thinking about the last time he was in Stormwind, but the words he’d shared with Lothar, what he forced himself to say… it still pained him to think about it. The door to his right opened, and Khadgar glanced up to see—his heartbeat quickened in his chest at the mere sight of Lothar. He didn’t look too different. Maybe a bit more tired, and stressed, but just as breathtaking as Khadgar remembered. Lothar seemed to freeze, too, as their eyes met. Not that he hadn’t been informed who was waiting for him. Though maybe that was why Khadgar waited for so long.
When he spoke, his voice was emotionless. “What are you doing back in my city, spell-chucker?”
“I… there was a…” he swallowed around the nervousness rising in his throat. Now that Lothar was there and real he was struggling to hold the confidence he had when he’d stormed back into the city demanding to see him. “There’s been an attack, at Karazhan.”
“What?”
“I was training with Medivh. Cleaning, really, for the most part, and—and everything just happened so quickly. I didn’t know where else to go.”
“What of Medivh? Why isn’t he with you, is he alright?”
“I… I don’t know,” Khadgar kept trying to think back to what happened, to find his way through the darkness in his mind. But all that he could remember were shadows and horrible, blood curdling noises. “I was knocked out, I think, during the fight. When I awoke, he was gone. I wanted to stay, wait to see if he returned, but Karazhan…” he trailed off, shuddering at the memory of the place now, “it’s like it’s alive. I kept hearing things, seeing shadows.”
“What, and a powerful mage like yourself can’t handle a few petty shadows?”
Khadgar felt anger rise in his throat. How dare Lothar belittle this, how dare he assume to know what it was like—what was going on. This was too much for him to even begin to comprehend. “You need to put your anger at me aside, Lothar. This is serious. It’s Karazhan we’re talking about. ‘Petty shadows,’ as you call them, become incredibly dangerous when you consider the tower is literally teeming with magic.”
“So you left, knowing that it was a possibility Medivh was still there somewhere, likely injured?”
“Even magical, they’re still shadows. You’re just a coward; you run as soon as things get hard.”
“How dare you,” Khadgar hissed, slamming his hands down on the desk as he stood. “I am no coward, Anduin Lothar. I just know when staying becomes nothing more than a death wish. Now, if you could just pull your head out of your ass long enough to—”
Lothar moved quickly, too quickly for Khadgar to stop him as he was slammed down against the hard wooden desk, one of Lothar’s hands pinning his arms above his head while the other covered his mouth roughly. Obviously he’d learned a thing or two about mages since Khadgar had left.
He tried not to react, tried to remember that he once considered Lothar to be safe, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t ignore the familiar feeling of losing control, of being dominated and helpless. He flinched, and squeezed his eyes shut in fear as tears immediately welled in his eyes. He could hear Lothar breathing heavily above him, a familiar sound in this position. His heart pounded in his chest as he prayed to the Light for Lothar to let him go. The hand holding his wrists loosened slightly, and Khadgar pried his eyes open. He couldn’t stop the few stray tears from rolling down his cheeks as he stared, wide-eyed up at the man who had once saved his life.
He watched as Lothar recognized the fear in his eyes. Almost instantly he was across the room, putting as much distance between them as the small space would allow. He cast his eyes to the floor, clearly ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I… I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s fine,” Khadgar lied. “You’re worried about your friend, and obviously still very angry with me.”
“That’s no excuse for me to take such physical action.”
“I probably deserve it; after everything I’ve said to you.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, Khadgar, you don’t deserve to be hurt.”
“Why not? I hurt you.”
Lothar was quiet a moment. Khadgar couldn’t bring himself to look, to see what he’d done to their relationship. “Yeah, you did.”
“So you reserve every right to be angry with me.”
“And I am, but that doesn’t make it okay for me to hurt you, or scare you.”
Khadgar frowned. That feeling in his chest—the tug that urged him to move closer to Lothar, to cling to him like a lifeline—was back, and stronger than ever. It’d been so long since he felt it, since they’d seen each other. He’d hoped it would be gone, but he never did get far with hope.
“I need your help,” Khadgar said quietly, forcing himself to ignore the feelings. “I can’t find Medivh on my own, and I have a bad feeling that the worst has yet to come.”
Slowly, Lothar nodded. “I’ll inform Llane and send some troops to Karazhan. We’ll get there first, but it’ll give us time to get a better look.”
He headed towards the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. “Stay here. I mean it this time, Khadgar.”
“I will.”
The last thing Lothar wanted to do was tell Llane that Khadgar was back. It had taken months to repair the damage that he—that Lothar did to their relationship. He had to stop blaming Khadgar, as much as he wanted to. Llane had pulled the ‘told-you-so’ card, which had only made Lothar angry, adding to the pain he was already experiencing with a vengeance. He’d spent almost a week straight rotting in the Lion’s Pride tavern in Goldshire. He’d hoped that it’d be far enough away his sister wouldn’t be able to find him and meddle, but she did. As she always did.
Taria forced him and Llane to interact until they inevitably forgave each other. And now, he was about to go in there and throw all that effort to the wind. He was about to reopen old arguments and once again threaten his relationship with his best friend and King over a stupid mage. With a final, deep breath, he walked into the throne room with his head held high.
“Anduin, I haven’t seen you all morning,” Llane said. “Where did you run off to?”
“The guards captured someone breaking into the barracks, specifically requesting to see me.”
“Oh?”
“Khadgar is back,” Lothar said, all in one breath. Llane’s expression darkened immediately. “Medivh is in trouble.”
“You trust what that mage says? After all that he’s done to you?”
“We know he’s been training with Medivh since he left, that much is fact. And the panic in his voice and eyes was very real.”
“We can’t trust him.”
“What if he’s telling the truth, Llane? This is Medivh’s life on the line—the Guardian’s life on the line.”
Llane shook his head, “Precisely. The Guardian is fully capable of handling himself.”
“And if he’s not? If we send Khadgar away and find out Medivh perished because of our distrust?” Lothar asked. “What then, how could we life with ourselves knowing we caused his demise?”
“But that mage—”
“You told me not to hold a bias for him when you forced him to leave the city, yet you expect me to hold a bias against him now that he’s back?”
“Anduin…”
“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t look into this only to find out that it was a real threat, that what Khadgar says is true.”
Llane sighed, “Fine. You may go with him.”
“I’ll be sending 10 troops to Karazhan, to meet us there. If there is a real threat, I want to be prepared.
“Fine. But Anduin?” Llane asked, stopping him before he left. “Be careful.”
“I always am,” Lothar responded. “But I don’t think Khadgar would hurt me.”
Not physically, anyway, he thought. But it was probably best to keep that information to himself. Emotionally, though? Emotionally, Khadgar was already hurting him. Seeing him just brought everything back, like opening a wound that hadn’t fully healed. All the things he felt were back, tinged with bitterness from the knowledge that Khadgar saw him as nothing more than a kind Commander. Not even a friend, never mind anything… more.
It was going to be a long journey.
“We’re taking a portal,” Khadgar insisted for the third time. “It's faster.”
“No, we’re taking a gryphon,” Lothar argued back, again. “I'm not going into potential danger without an escape plan.”
“A portal is an escape plan.”
“And if you're too tired? Or… Incapacitated?” Lothar asked. “Then what?”
“We don't have time to fly, Lothar!” He shouted, the desperation he was feeling coming through clearly in his voice. “We have to go now! Medivh could be hurt and trying to fight those shadows alone, if he's not—if he's still—”
“Khadgar,” Lothar said, stopping his pacing with his hands on his shoulders. Khadgar froze, and stared until he dropped his hands back to his side. Khadgar missed their warmth instantly. “Stop panicking.”
“Can we please just portal?”
“No, flying is safer. You need to keep your strength if things are as bad as you say they are.”
“I hate flying,” Khadgar admitted. “And I… I really have no clue how to drive one.”
“Do you honestly think I'd put you in charge of one of the birds? They're only for high-ranking officials to use.”
“Oh, so we’d…”
“Share, yes. I realize you probably don't want to spend that long in my presence, but we don't really have another choice.”
Khadgar’s heart broke at the statement, more so at how easily his lies were believed. Lothar truly thought he meant nothing to him. He truly believed that Khadgar was simply thankful for being saved, nothing more. He wanted to say something, but it didn't feel like the right time. Lothar was already walking away, mumbling under his breath about how he would go get supplies, and that Khadgar was to meet him in the Trade District. He had no choice but to once again watch him go.
He made his way slowly out of the castle, looping far away from Old Town and all the negative memories that were there. Stormwind really hadn't changed, not in the slightest. He received some looks from the citizens, likely due to the robes he had been gifted from Medivh. They definitely marked him in a crowd as a mage.
The Trade District was bustling as always with merchants trying to sell their wares, and people socializing happily with one another. None of them knew the horrors going on in Karazhan. None of them knew that the person meant to be protecting them was in danger. They could just keep living their lives, happy and careless. Khadgar was only slightly jealous.
He reached the gryphon’s keep before Lothar, as expected. He kept his distance from the birds as he waited, positive they were eyeing him with uncertainty. The last thing he wanted to do was piss off one of them. He doubted the King would appreciate losing one, even if it was done in self defence.
“Honestly, they're not going to hurt you,” Lothar said from behind him. “They're practically harmless.”
“Harmless?” Khadgar squeaked. “They could kill me with the lift of one talon.”
“They could, but they wouldn't.”
“If you say so,” Khadgar watched him approach one of the gryphons, patting its beak with a broad smile. The bird seemed happy to see him, jumping from one foot to the other as it squeaked excitedly. He attached their supplies to its saddle, and from the sounds of one of the bags Lothar had put his armour inside. Khadgar was thankful he wouldn't have to hold onto the cold plate as they flew. It was unpleasant enough as it was.
He watched Lothar climb into the saddle and, amazingly offer him a hand. Khadgar stared at it until Lothar sighed, “It's not going to bite you, spell-chucker.”
Khadgar frowned, but took the offered help. The saddle was no more comfortable than he remembered. If anything, it was worse than ever. He wanted to hold on tight, wrap his arms around Lothar’s middle as he had before. But it felt wrong to do that now, after everything that happened. Instead, he gripped the back of the saddle tight enough for his knuckles to go white.
“Aren't you going to hold on?” Lothar asked.
“I'm fine, lets just go.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, and urged the bird forward. As soon as the it rose onto its hind legs, all courage he had rushed from his body. He immediately let go of the saddle, wrapping his arms tightly around Lothar instead. He felt him chuckle, actually chuckle, and suddenly his heart felt lighter. “You'll get used to it one day, I swear!”
“You continue to assume I'll be making this a more frequent thing. If you weren't so damn stubborn, I wouldn't even be on this bird.”
“I wouldn't let you fall,” Lothar shouted back. Khadgar felt himself blush. He wished he could go back, stop himself from breaking what they had. Not a moment passed in the year that he was gone that he didn't regret what he’d said. That he didn't miss Lothar’s kind heart and gentle eyes. He wished he could fix it, but he didn't know where to begin.
They had no choice but to stop half way to Karazhan. It was getting dark, and though Lothar was sure they'd reach the tower by nightfall, Khadgar insisted it wasn't safe to go at night. Not if they had a chance at finding Medivh without running into problems. No, it would be better for them to wait until morning.
Lothar tasked him to make a fire, insisting that he didn't want the tent falling on them in the middle of the night. Khadgar forced himself not to argue, or comment. Instead, he did as told. Unlike he was sure Lothar expected, he didn't use his magic to light the fire. It was a waste of energy, and it was just as simple to do it by hand. Lothar seemed shocked, unsurprisingly, but only raised an eyebrow as he sat across the fire from Khadgar.
He handed him food from the kitchens, which only need be reheated over the flames. The ate in silence, painful silence that Khadgar hated. There was such awkwardness, tension, in the air that hadn't been there before. He just wanted to return to what they had—to continue exploring what they could've had.
“I'm sorry,” Khadgar said quietly into the night.
“What?”
“I'm sorry, for what I said to you before I left.”
Lothar sighed, “You don't have to apologize for being honest, Khadgar. I'd rather know the truth than go on thinking you felt something else, something more.”
“I wasn't being honest,” Khadgar admitted. “I lied to you. I… said what I had to say.”
“What are you talking about?” Lothar asked.
“When you said you were planning to leave, to follow me, I knew I couldn't let you. Your place is in Stormwind, next to your King. I didn't belong there, but you did,” he explained, keeping his eyes fixated on the ground. “I didn't mean what I said. Of course you're more to me than just… just someone who saved me. Of course I saw you as a friend—or a potential one at least.”
“You lied to me, hurt me, because you thought you had the right to decide what was best for me? Why wasn't I allowed to make that decision on my own?”
“Because I wasn't worth it, Lothar. I wasn't worth you giving up everything, everyone, in your life.”
“That wasn't your choice to make!” Lothar shouted. “What if you were worth it, to me? You took that choice from me.”
“I couldn't let you do it,” Khadgar said sadly, “I wanted to. I really, really did. I wanted you to come with me, to continue to get to know you, but I couldn't. I couldn't just ignore what you'd be forced to leave behind—who you'd be forced to leave behind.”
“I spent this past year forcing myself not to go to Karazhan, not to come find you. Do you understand how hard that was for me?” Lothar asked. “I cared for you, Khadgar. I wanted to care for you, and you threw that away.”
“I know. I wish I hadn’t, that it couldn’t been different, but I don’t regret my decision.”
Lothar said nothing. He stared across the fire, his blue eyes piercing and sad. Khadgar just wanted things to be better, to return to how they were. But Lothar shook his head and stood. “Go, sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”
He knew better than to argue now, so Khadgar did as told.
When he was sure Khadgar was asleep, Lothar allowed himself to look. To process all the new information he’d been given. For months he told himself it wasn’t possible for Khadgar to see him as nothing more than a kind helping hand. For months, he tried to argue with what had been said because he saw something in Khadgar’s eyes when he looked at him. But he forced himself to stop, to believe the lies because he had no choice. Now all his suspicious were confirmed. Khadgar wasn’t as heartless as Lothar tried to convince himself he was.
He’d lied to protect him. Lothar wanted to be angry, to defend his right to choose for himself, but he knew that he would’ve done the exact same thing. Because as much as it pained him to admit, Khadgar was right. He couldn’t leave Stormwind. He couldn’t abandon his duties, or his son. His judgement had been clouded by… by the familiar feelings in his heart that drew him to the mage. He didn’t want to lose that again, and he had been prepared to follow Khadgar to the end of the world.
But the damn kid made sure he wouldn’t. From the sadness in his eyes, Lothar could only imagine that it hurt him, too. Yet he said what he did and ran. He destroyed his reputation and left—for Lothar’s sake.
He couldn’t stop staring at him, so peaceful in sleep. He’d changed so much in the year he’d been gone. He was more confident, more sure of the power he possessed. It was almost as if the arcane hummed under his skin, illuminating it, but Lothar assumed it was just Khadgar’s natural skin tone—his healthy skin tone. Because more than anything, he looked healthy now. He gained some weight, a clear sign of having meals at least twice daily. If anything, it just made him more attractive.
He stared at the mage’s face, an incredible fondness growing in his heart. His cheeks had puffed out with his healthy weight, no longer sunken and dark but now round and almost always slightly flushed. He wanted to run his fingers across Khadgar’s skin, to press kisses where there were once bruises.
He’d tried so hard to get rid of what he had felt for Khadgar. He spent most of the year telling himself that it had all been imagined, that he had confused empathy with attraction. Now that he was back, Lothar knew what he felt had nothing to do with the sad state he found the mage in. Because here he was, healthy and relatively happy, and if anything the things Lothar felt before were back, and stronger than ever.
Not for the first time, he felt like Khadgar was going to cause him some serious trouble.
When he woke the next morning, Lothar found Khadgar fast asleep outside the tent—where he was supposed to be on watch. He should've been angry, considering this wasn't the safest area, but Khadgar looked so… adorable was really the only word that Lothar could think to describe it. He was curled up in his cloak, mouth hanging open slightly as he snored quietly.
Lothar kneeled down next to him, gently brushing his hair off his forehead. He tried not to think too much about what he was doing, or why he was doing it. It just felt right. He moved his hand down to Khadgar’s shoulder, shaking gently. The mage woke with a start, eyes glowing blue as the beginnings of a spell fell from his lips. Lothar smacked his hand over Khadgar’s mouth quickly and, thankfully, watched the spell fade.
“You were supposed to be on watch, spell-chucker,” Lothar teased.
Khadgar shook his hand off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “Sorry, I don't even remember dozing off…”
“It's fine.”
They ate breakfast in silence, but it was less awkward than it had been in the past. The silence wasn't because of anger or ill will between them anymore, now it was more the anticipation of reaching Karazhan and what they were about to face. He could almost see the wheels turning in Khadgar’s head as he thought. “It's going to be alright, Khadgar. If I know Medivh, I know he wouldn't give up without a fight.”
Khadgar nodded, “I hope you're right.”
They finished their food in silence, and packed up their camp. Even the gryphon seemed to understand the solemn mood in the air, it's excitement being replaced by a bizarre seriousness. Lothar once again offered a hand, and this time Khadgar didn't hesitate in taking it. He wrapped his arms around Lothar’s middle right away, and it was oddly comforting. He spurred the bird forward, towards Karazhan, and tried not to worry about what they were flying into.
He knew something was wrong as soon as they were within sight of Karazhan. He was used to seeing the energy, magic, flowing into the energy chamber. He was used to the air of power that always surrounded the tower. But this was… this was wrong. The magic flowing in wasn't the normal, wispy white, but a strange glowing green.
Behind him, Khadgar gasped. “Stop!” He shouted, and Lothar pulled back on the reigns of the bird.
“What is it, Khadgar? What's happened?”
“It's worse than I thought,” he said, grip on Lothar tightening. “That… Karazhan has been taken over by the Fel.”