Chapter Twenty: The Predicament of Stormwind

As Countess Katrana, the transformed Onyxia, pondered whether to tempt Arthas as well, the King of Stormwind had already been waiting at the fortress gates for his old friend.

“Arthas!” Varian strode forward, giving him a hearty embrace. “How long has it been since we last met?”

“Almost eight years, Varian.”

“When I left Lordaeron, you were barely this tall.” Varian gestured, recalling Arthas’s height back then.

Arthas rolled his eyes. “I was only eleven at the time, thank you very much. And you weren’t much taller yourself.”

They shared a smile, reminiscent of old times.

Varian patted Arthas’s back firmly. “You’ve grown so much stronger. Muradin and Uther must have trained you well.”

“You’re no slouch yourself,” Arthas replied, noting Varian’s unabashed sharpness.

“If you have time, we should spar again, like old days,” Varian said nostalgically. “By the way… how is Uncle Terenas’s health? Is Lordaeron doing alright?”

King Terenas had taken in the fallen prince as his own son, and Lordaeron had become a second home for Varian.

“My father is well, and Lordaeron has recovered to its state before the Orc Wars.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” Varian nodded with satisfaction. “Come, I want you to meet your nephew. I’ve decided to ask you to be his godfather.”

Arthas laughed wryly. “Varian, I’m only nineteen!”

“And what of that? Do you want little Anduin calling you ‘brother’?” Varian teased.

“Alright, you win.”

Throughout, Varian paid no mind to Countess Katrana standing nearby. After briefing Bolvar on some matters, he led Arthas into a palace wing beside the Stormwind fortress.

Katrana’s face bore a hint of grievance. “It seems His Majesty is still angry about what happened before the birth.”

Bolvar gently patted the noblewoman’s back. “It’s alright, Katrana. Those nobles deserved punishment. You did nothing wrong, it’s just… Varian has trouble accepting it.”

Seizing the moment, the countess nestled closer to Bolvar, feigning deep sorrow.

…

“Bolvar is such a headache. Why does he have to fall for that woman?” Varian complained as they walked. He greatly respected the grand duke’s character, but his choice in love was questionable.

Varian was no fool. Katrana deftly navigated among the nobility, spinning endless intrigues. Many of Stormwind’s nobles were already caught in her web.

Meanwhile, Varian had yet to raise enough gold to pay the stonecutter’s guild for the city's reconstruction, while those nobles squandered wealth playing power games.

More troubling was how abruptly Countess Katrana had appeared. Where on earth did the Prestor family come from?

They claimed to hail from Alterac Kingdom, but that realm had long been destroyed by the Orcs, its capital razed utterly—leaving no proof to verify their identity.

“Each member of the Prestor family is no simpleton. Don’t you remember the lord of Prestor who almost married my sister in Lordaeron?” Arthas hinted, trying to raise Varian’s vigilance.

It wasn’t realistic to directly tell Varian Katrana was a black dragon. Without evidence, even if Varian believed him and forced Onyxia to reveal herself, such a powerful black dragon could wreak havoc in Stormwind and leave at will.

Stormwind no longer had a guardian like Medivh. Without no-fly zones, a black dragon could come and go freely in the newly rebuilt city.

So Arthas merely warned Varian to be cautious of the Prestor countess. He did not want his friend’s city to crumble again. As long as they didn’t scare Onyxia away, he had plenty of plans to deal with the black dragon princess later.

“You think she’s suspicious too? Their whole family’s sudden appearance is odd,” Varian shook his head. He’d been busy dealing with defiant nobles and hadn’t had time to focus on other matters.

If not for the recent birth of his son, he’d still be mired in the mess left by those blasted nobles. Now Bolvar handled that burden.

As they spoke, they reached the palace gardens. There, Queen Tiffin cradled a swaddled infant—her and Varian’s son, Anduin.

“My dear Tiffin, why are you out here in the garden again? It’s too easy to catch a chill here!” Varian approached and took Anduin from her arms.

“It’s nothing, Varian. I’m no weak woman. I just wanted to let little Anduin get some fresh air.”

Tiffin spoke softly, then smiled at Arthas in greeting.

“Long time no see, Prince Arthas. How is King Terenas these days?”

Arthas had met Tiffin a few times in Lordaeron; they were acquaintances. He recalled that Varian and Tiffin’s relationship hadn’t been good then, as their marriage was a political alliance neither desired.

But now it was clear: Tiffin’s kindness and gentleness had won over the fiery Varian. Since falling in love, they had lived in harmony and mutual respect.

She was a capable queen and would be a devoted mother.

“Come, Arthas, meet my son.” Varian brought little Anduin closer. The young prince lay quietly in his swaddling, his large blue eyes fixed on Arthas.

“What a lovely child,” Arthas said, teasing the boy gently. “May the Light bless you with health and happiness.”

Varian joked, “After all this time, you’ve started sounding like one of those old priests?”

“I can’t help it. Being around them so long, I’ve picked up a few phrases. But I truly feel the Light protecting this child.” Arthas summoned a soft glow of holy light at his fingertips. Anduin stirred, clumsily reaching out to grasp it.

Arthas gently touched the boy’s forehead, and the light flowed into him. “This child is born with a powerful affinity to the Light. He will surely be a great hero.”

Anduin’s face lit up with joy at the pure, gentle Light.

“Does he really have such strong affinity? You’re not just pulling my leg, are you?” Varian eyed Arthas suspiciously. When they were younger, Varian had been a straightforward fool, but Arthas was no ordinary man.

Arthas understood his friend’s thoughts and clapped him on the shoulder. “Ha! Varian, I know you hope your son becomes a warrior like you and your father. But let Anduin grow up and follow his own path.”

“Alright, I’m not set on him becoming a warrior. I just want him to learn courage and strength.”

Varian’s expression softened as he gazed at his son, full of hope.

Queen Tiffin smiled gently. “You’re still so impatient. Our son has a vast future ahead. No need to rush.”

Arthas sighed inwardly. Had Tiffin lived, the rift between Varian and Anduin might never have grown so wide: a fiery, blunt father who deeply loved his son but became clumsy and childlike when facing genuine affection.

But this time, everything would be different—Arthas produced a pendant from his chest and handed it to Queen Tiffin.

“This?”

Tiffin accepted the gift with some surprise, unsure of its purpose.

“This pendant was made by Lord Fao as a protective charm. Blessed by the Light, it brings good fortune, health, and wards off disease and evil,” Arthas explained. Tiffin’s death was almost certainly the work of Onyxia’s schemes, but the stone thrown by a commoner was likely just a catalyst.

The black dragon princess had probably cursed Tiffin long before.

“Thank you, Arthas. I really like this gift.” The queen accepted the charm, thinking of her husband’s recent strained relations with many nobles. She planned to give it to Varian later.

Arthas seemed to see through her thoughts. “Don’t worry about Varian. I have other gifts for him and little Anduin. Keep this charm for yourself. I believe Varian wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Varian nodded. As a warrior, he never feared danger or hardship—except when it came to the safety of his queen and son.

Arthas’s words made Varian realize he had already seen through his own situation. After handing Anduin back to Tiffin, he rubbed his nose and muttered, “You noticed too?”

“I felt something was off as soon as I entered Stormwind.”

Varian’s strength might rival Arthas’s, but in subtle perception, he was still far behind. He had only recently become king—not yet the mature High King of the Alliance he would be.

“Stormwind looks prosperous on the surface, but there must be many troubles beneath.”

Varian sighed heavily, his face filled with helplessness. He pulled Arthas onto a nearby bench, while Tiffin sat beside him with their son.

“I always knew those nobles were unreliable. When Stormwind was in peril, they fled one after another. Now that it’s rebuilt, they’re all back, trying to pluck the fruits. They’ll soon learn the terror of Urrien’s wrath!” Varian’s expression was full of indignation.