Chapter Text
Incertitude
“An entire garrison and no one said anything?”
The two exchanged looks, not wanting to piss their Commander off.
“Well we did find something.”
“Yeah, he was searching the bodies in the barracks.”
Lothar stopped in his tracks at the absurdity of what he just heard and gave the soldier a hard stare, repeating slowly, “in the barracks?” Lothar continued down the hall, thinking quickly about what kind of person has business with dead bodies. When he reached the door an odd feeling tightened in his stomach. Lothar just shook the feeling away and opened the door. Stepping in, he was greeted by a boy a few years older than Callan. Something was wrong.
“Finally, you in command??” the voice was curious and lively. The knot in his stomach made itself known again but became all the more worse when he took in his face. The messy hair and chubby face that had just grown in facial hair signifying his manhood, the way he carelessly sat and tossed the book he was reading as if he owned the placed and not to mention his complete disregard to status and authority. No. What made Lothar burn were his eyes. Those damn wide eyes full of wonder and determination. It pissed Lothar off to no end that he reacted almost subconsciously shoving the boy down on the table. Surprised at his own actions Lothar continued on his intuition to check the boy’s arm finding the beautifully inscribed mark.
“SHALERO—” Lothar quickly put his hand over his mouth to silence him and diffuse the spell he was certaintly about to cast. No longer wanting to spend time in close proximity to the infuriating boy Lothar decided to get straight to the point. “This is the mark of the Kirin Tor, what are you doing in my city spell chucker?” Glancing at his other hand which had initially lighted up to throw archmage magic at him slowly dwindled down and Lothar let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and removed his hand from his mouth. Unfortunately because he asked him a question the boy began speaking again requiring Lothar to look back into those eyes. This time however the negative feeling in his stomach was replaced by a different feeling that put Lothar in a somewhat better mood as the boy demanded to see the bodies. Lothar leaned in closer with the idea of showing who has the authority in this room as he was not shown acknowledgment earlier and realized he kind of enjoyed the boy’s discomfort from being underneath him. “Now why would I do that?” mocking him lightly but allowing a hint of amusement to be shown that all hostility in the room had evaporated.
“Within that body is the secret to your attacks.” This had Lothar’s attention. It started only recently but several attacks had been happening and it was beginning to worry him. Now that his mind was cleared of that feeling before he even came in the room he looked at the boy for real this time as he backed off of him and allowed him to stand up and fix his wrinkled clothes. Instead of a threat Lothar saw potential insight—after all, he was a mage. He shook his head to the door signaling the boy to follow him and lead him to the bodies. Taking notice of small things is a factor that makes up a warrior. It is the game changer in how to take lives or have yours be taken. As they walked he noticed the boy’s clumsy footsteps that sped up and slowed down to match his own stride. He listened to his short breaths and thought to himself what a sight to see this boy even attempt to run a mile and chuckled internally.
Once they arrived, Lothar went to the opposite side of the boy who immediately began working. It was so weird what mages do… or actually anyone who touches corpses.. without the intention of funeral. What was worse the boy decided to stick his hand in his mouth! Lothar couldn’t help but step closer at the odd sight he was witnessing only to instantly regret it the second some grotesque green gas erupted and fizzled out causing everyone in the room to jump slightly. What the crap? “What was that?” Lothar said pointing to the only source he knew to be the mouth of the corpse. Lothar did not like the face this kid was making. He looked absolutely panicked as he mentioned seeing The Guardian. “Medivh?” the other soldier had asked questionably. Right like that was going to happen. Medivh hasn’t been seen in six years. “Only the King summons the Guardian” Lothar remarked cockily personally have experienced that indeed no one can really see Medivh anymore. The boy looked so serious and the look in his eyes still made it hard for Lothar to maintain eye contact. The two feelings from earlier arose and he seriously needed a break and maybe a drink to figure out what the heck they meant.
He went outside to his favorite gryphon and flew to the Lion’s Pride Inn knowing his best friend and sister had arrangements there. He only had a few hours as the ride to Goldshire was pretty short. Running to Llane’s quarters he was relieved to see he was alone as he did not want to discuss such personal feelings with his sister. She felt so much more like a nagging mother. Knowing no formalities need be exchanged with the two he quickly took off his boots and belt, and stretched out luxuriously, and jumped on Llane’s bed. Llane, who was sitting in a chair by the window, raised an eyebrow and gave a stare that questioned Lothar’s actions. Nervousness began to creep in and Lothar groaned not knowing how to start. “There was this boy in the barracks looking at dead bodies,” Lothar sighed realizing he had spoken uncharacteristically fast and slowed down “this green gas emitted out of one of the corpses and he wishes to speak to you.” Silence. Lothar turned over to see if Llane was paying attention but he was staring right at him. This time Lothar raised a brow “are you listening?” Llane, that annoying king, just smirked at him. “Oh I am listening Anduin I am just waiting for you to tell me what you came barging in my room to talk about.”
The nerve. Such a brat. Ugh. Lothar considered for a second having a tantrum on the King’s bed but decided against it. “The boy had such… peculiar eyes.. I don’t know but I don't like it. He gave me this feeling and.. I don't understand it.” Lothar again looked at Llane’s face, but instead of a smirk, was full of surprise and understanding. But what did he understand that he himself could not? Llane cleared his throat and spoke gently making Lothar tense up at his words. “Do you perhaps have an attraction to this boy?” NO! He wanted to shout or laugh or just leave the room at the ridiculous thought. He wasn’t gay. He certainty wasn’t gay for a weak little mage.
But instead of doing all of those things the knot in his stomach came back and a flash of the boy’s wondrous eyes appeared in his mind only briefly. He just stared hard at his best friend trying to control his facial expression. Denial. Excuses. Rage. His thoughts were getting out of hand until he felt the bed shift and Lothar blinked. Llane was no longer in his chair but sitting on the bed on the other side and Lothar snapped his neck sideways to look at him. “I do not doubt you Anduin, but it just comes across as if perhaps this boy means something.” It was then Lothar realized he didn't even know the boy’s name. This person who had ruined his entire day that he had spent the majority thinking about and there wasn't even a name who could blame for it all.
“I am sorry if I am crossing a line old friend, but Callan is nearly twenty years old maybe it is time that you move on and find happiness.” There it was. The unspoken truth and true reason he did not like seeing his sister. Every time they were alone she would bring it up. How could he possibly forget his wife? He saw her everywhere, not mention Callan was a constant reminder of her. No. It was out of the question even if there was the slightest chance he was maybe just a tiny bit attracted to the boy. Lothar licked his lips that had dried at the intensity of his stern face and spoke “For now Llane, can we drop the subject?” The King stood and smiled sadly and offered his hand to Lothar helping him off the bed. “Lets go downstairs and get some drinks.”
After a few drinks and feeling the slightest bit tipsy Lothar and the guard began a formal report to the King about today’s attacks. “Well what kind of beast takes on an entire Garrison?” Llane demanded while Lothar paced deep in thought before an interruption brought him back to reality. He saw him. He was walking right towards him. Err… He was walking right towards Llane, causing Lothar to magnetically become closer to Llane so he could look at the boy more. “The Fel” the boy said, confidently ignoring all stares and trying to approach the King without a care in the world. So similar. “Is this him?” Llane asked giving Lothar a look with a double meaning. Lothar, who was now slightly embarrassed by Llane’s question gave an “mhmm” answer and turned around for a bit so no one but perhaps his nosy sister could see. He turned around again noticing this time Callan was the one who escorted the boy in. There was something about the two of them standing next to each other that bothered Lothar. Was it because he was maybe attracted to someone so close in age with his son? No. Was it because he was so similar to his son? Yes. They were similar. But how? Callan, although he doesn't want to admit it, is strong and might not need Lothar’s protection anymore. It’s the eyes. Something about their eyes was similar. Lothar wanted a closer look and walked over dismissing Callan.
“My name is Khadgar...” the rest flowed into Lothar’s filtered thoughts to be remembered later but all his tipsy self could focus on now was Khadgar. Khadgar. His eyes. Her eyes. Lothar’s stomach felt like it had been punched as Khadgar continued explaining things and urging the summoning of the Guardian. Her eyes. In that moment, even though Khadgar had stepped forward and only his back was showing, flashbacks of all the events of today unfolded in Lothar’s mind. Why he felt sick and yet drawn to his eyes. Why it has mattered so deeply. Why he couldn’t get those eyes out of his mind. Khadgar had this innocence and purity that his late wife had. His eyes shone like hers, like Callan’s, and yet still differently. Lothar was dumbstruck. This feeling in his stomach wasn’t a negative one. It was fondness. A feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time not even towards his son. The conversation and his realization came to a halt when announcements of smoke and attacks in the distance were made. Lothar wandered upstairs to his favorite windowsill to sober up and breathe. Really it was an excuse to get away from Khadgar. Even though the building they were in was so big it felt so suffocating being so close to him. Of course he couldn't be left alone before that sister of his came to boss him around. “Quit calling for Callan and mind your own business,” Lothar said in hopes she would give him a moment of peace. No. Of course she was going to nag about how he needs to treat Callan better. Blah Blah Blah. Wait. Did she just play the Queen card? “You are my sister first” he reminded her daring her to challenge him.
Before the two siblings could get into their routinely fight, Llane appeared looking quite serious. He questioned Lothar about Medivh’s whereabouts and the last time he saw him. Finally handing him the King’s ring signifying that the Guardian had been officially summoned. Lothar knew the only place to look was Karazahn and lead them outside to his gryphon. Appreciating his beloved pet Lothar hopped on and got situated before glancing at Khadgar and telling him to join him. Of course the boy clumsily climbed on and he could feel his gryphon’s impatience with someone inexperienced. He felt Khadgar’s shaky hands grab his clothes and could tell the boy was uncomfortable. Llane stepped forward to send them off with his only words being “good luck.” Suddenly it meant something different. Had Llane seen through him? Was a journey to see his other best friend something that required luck? The other feeling that Lothar had been experiencing all day. The feeling other than fondness when it came to this mysterious Khadgar. It was one of incertitude.