Archive of Our Own

Mathias came home to a cold, dark, empty flat; the same way he’d done for many, many years before his time in Kul Tiras, and much more recently, for the past few weeks. He knew he had no else to blame but himself. Not even a month ago he’d have been coming home to a few candles still burning, the flat warmed by the last few embers in the hearth, and his lover waiting for him with a hot bowl of something and a kiss. But now Flynn was gone, and Mathias couldn't even blame him. He'd watched his relationship slowly slip away until nothing remained apart from the few personal effects Flynn had left behind in his haste to get away. The meagre proof that, even just for a short time, Mathias had shared his life with someone he loved, and more impressively, someone who loved him back.

But, like all good things in his life, it was ruined by Edwin VanCleef. Though it was probably a stretch to blame this particular event on a man who had been dead over a decade. This fuck up was entirely on Mathias.

Mathias had sworn to himself that he would never distance himself from Flynn. Whilst he was professionally aloof and more difficult to extract information from than a stone, Flynn was to be the exception. His lover got to know things about him that even his self-penned, top-secret SI:7 file didn't know. He got a front row seat to the proof that Mathias not only had emotions, but was able to express said emotions through various facial expressions. Flynn was very likely the only person in Azeroth to know the true Mathias Shaw.

And Mathias had pissed it all away for a memory of a man he’d had killed.

He and Edwin had never been lovers. Edwin probably would have never entertained the idea, even if Mathias had decided to join him. But Mathias had always had feelings for his old friend; feelings that clouded his judgement and kept him awake many a night. He didn’t believe it had been love – at least not the love he felt for Flynn – but it was something similar. Something a bit more obsessive, bordering on toxic.

As the years had gone by, Edwin's memory and Mathias’ feelings towards him had all but faded away, until Flynn came into his life. To use a cliché, Flynn had been a breath of fresh air to Mathias. When he wasn’t thinking about the job he was thinking about the handsome ex-pirate; thinking about what small trinkets he could slip into his cabin, or whether he would ever entertain the idea of going for a drink with the downright miserable spymaster of the Alliance. And when Flynn had reciprocated Mathias’ feelings all thoughts of Edwin vanished. He was no longer kept awake by regrets, but by the fear of losing his lover. A fear he'd expected to come through Flynn's untimely death, and not through Mathias' own actions.

Flynn, Light bless him, had tried. He knew about Edwin. He knew their history. He'd been so much more understanding about the whole situation than Mathias could ever hope to be about anyone that could have held a similar significance to Flynn. And after his meeting with Vanessa had clearly shaken Mathis, Flynn had done his best to keep Mathias afloat.

But, Mathias contemplated, one could only do so much to stop someone drowning before they pulled them both under. Flynn had done everything, but ultimately he had to save himself.

The worst part was that every day Mathias felt at war with himself. He'd split into two. The part of him that still clung to the guilt of what happened to Edwin, and ruminated on what could have been, and the part of him that was screaming to stop suffering the past and to save his relationship. Every night his heart told him to go home to Flynn, to let his lover try to ease his torment but his body kept him in his office. In the mornings he wanted desperately to wake Flynn before he left, to try and find some comfort in his arms and gentle words, but instead he would silently slip from their bed and disappear into the city. On the rare occasion Flynn would finally catch him, Mathias did nothing; said nothing. Flynn would plead with him to let him in, but Mathias refused entry.

And so Flynn gave up. He stopped staying awake until the small hours of the morning trying to catch Mathias when he finally did drag himself home. Stopped cooking meals for 2, making sure to leave Mathias’ portion on the stove so he wouldn't go to bed on an empty stomach. Stopped being at the flat, until he stopped being in Stormwind altogether.

Mathias slumped down into his chair by the hearth, rubbing a hand over his tired face. For a man that usually appreciated the quiet, the flat was deafeningly silent. Flynn's absence was conspicuous. Even someone who had never met Mathias, had never known Flynn to exist in Mathias' life could tell there was something missing. Whatever it was that had made Mathias’ house a home, Flynn had taken with him.

And yet, even now, Mathias couldn't bring himself to forget Edwin and chase after Flynn. Part of him still believed he didn't deserve anyone's love, least of all Flynn's. Part of him wanted to suffer, wanted to remain in this depressive state until he could no longer bear living. And now, after he'd abandoned not one, but two men he claimed to love, that small voice telling him to end it was getting increasingly louder.

Mathias reached out to the small table that separated his chair from Flynn's, shakily taking ahold of the cutlass shaped letter opener that lay atop a couple of envelopes. Flynn had had it commissioned as a bit of a joke gift for Winter Veil after a minor disagreement between the couple about whether a cutlass was a refined blade or not – Mathias had made a comment about them being impossible to sharpen and weren't even useful for opening letters, and thus ate his words when Flynn sliced through multiple sheets of parchment with the small blade. Even now, after opening many an envelope, and even peeling a few pears, the blade remained sharp. Mathias weighed its balance on his finger, watching it teeter back and forth before settling. He sat staring at the blade, unmoving, waiting for… something.

A sharp knock on the door startled him, almost dropping the blade. He fumbled to catch it, narrowly avoiding stabbing it into his thigh.

The knocking persisted. Mathias grumbled, slapping the knife onto the side table and made his way to the door. A somewhat scrawny messenger boy jolted back when the door was wrenched open.

“What?”

The messenger cleared his throat, making sure to give Mathis a quick bow before reciting his message. “His Royal Highness King Anduin would like to see you posthaste in the briefing room of the Keep.”

Mathias frowned. “Why is he summoning me this late at night?”

The messenger cocked his head in confusion. “Sir?”

“King Anduin doesn't usually hold meetings in times of peace until morning.”

“Sir? It is morning.”

Mathias looked up, peering slightly around the messenger boy. He could have sworn he left SI:7 headquarters at just past midnight, and yet he could clearly see the first rays of sun catching on the tops of the taller buildings in the distance. Had he blacked out? How had he missed several hours without falling asleep?

“Is everything alright, Spymaster? Should I inform the King you are unwell?”

Mathis shook his head, trying to clear himself of his delirium. “No, I'm quite alright. I will see to Anduin's summons.”

“Very good, sir.” The messenger gave a final deep bow. “I shall go on ahead.”

Not wanting to keep Anduin waiting, Mathias stepped out of his flat, following swiftly behind the boy. The sounds of Stormwind waking up to start a new day was jarring. Not 30 minutes ago he’d walked these streets in the dark, with only the moon and sound of the wind for company. The walls of the Keep were almost blinding as the morning sun reflected off the white stone. The very same stone that Edwin had helped lay to rebuild the city.

Mathias tried to shake the thoughts from his mind; it wouldn't do well to think of the man who indirectly caused the death of the King's mother whilst having a discussion with said King.

Mathias knocked on the door to the briefing room before entering. Anduin smiled warmly as he stirred the steaming pot of coffee on the desk between them, opening his mouth to greet the Spymaster before being shocked into silence at the state of him.

“Shaw? Is everything alright?”

Mathias grit his teeth, wishing he'd taken a moment to check his appearance before meeting with the King. “I'm absolutely fine, Your Majesty. May I ask the nature of your summons?”

Anduin looked almost panicked as he stood up, motioning to the seat on the other side of his desk. “Please sit, Mathias. You look like you could keel over without a moment's notice. Did you not sleep well?”

“I insist, I feel absolutely fine.”

“Please, Mathias, take a seat. And have some coffee.”

Mathias knew this discussion would go nowhere if he didn't acquiesce, and so he slipped into the chair offered and accepted the cup of coffee that Anduin pushed in front of him. “Your Majesty?”

Anduin sighed, finally sinking back down into his own chair. “You're troubled, Shaw.”

“I'm n–”

“I can see it clear on your face. You're tired, your posture has lost its rigidity, and your eyes look lost.”

“Anduin–”

“I know about Flynn.”

Mathias could feel his heart stop. He didn’t know if he was ready for whatever was going to happen in this meeting.

“I'll admit I'm not all too clued up on the specific circumstances surrounding his departure, but Taelia insists that someone – me – tries to fix this rift.”

Mathias wanted to die of shame. In no way was it proper for the High King of the Alliance to be interfering in the failed relationship of his Spymaster. Varian would have had him banished if such petty issues had reached his attention. His grandmother would have beat it out of him. “Your Majesty, I…”

“I liked Captain Fairwind, Mathias. He may be a little… uncouth, should we say, but he was certainly charming. I never thought I'd see you fall in love, Mathias. As long as I could remember you were an island; stoic, borderline unapproachable. My father would always tell me not to bother you, and not to cause you any trouble. Your life was the job, and the job had taken away from you more than it could ever give you.

“So when I was almost shoved into the sea by Captain Fairwind in his haste to be reunited with you, there was no way I could hold it against him. For once you were being selfish. For once, the job had offered you something. Something special. And it brought me so much joy to see you finally happy.”

Mathias stared into his coffee. He couldn't bring himself to look into the sad, pitying eyes of his King. “Everything comes to an end eventually, Anduin.”

Anduin all but slammed his own cup onto the table, finally getting Mathias to look at him. “Why are you giving up, Mathias?! Are you really content to live the rest of your days knowing that out there in the world a man loves you so much he'd risk execution for striking the King just to get to you, and you let him go?”

Mathias opened his mouth, wanting to say something. Anything to defend himself, but his words failed him.

“Whatever chokehold VanCleef has you in, I strongly urge you to let it go.”

Hearing Edwin's name filled Mathias with dread. Only two people knew of his history with Edwin that still lived, and there’s no way Anduin got this information from Vanessa. “Your Majesty, I assure you–”

“Please don't try and lie to me, Shaw.” Anduin rubbed his brow, looking almost as tired as Mathias refused to admit he felt. “You're not my only informant, and whilst I will swear by the Light to you that I did not have you investigated, this information was passed to me some time ago. I disregarded it at the time. Whatever your relationship with the old leader of the Defias was of little importance. He was dead and your loyalty to the Crown was absolute.

“Vanessa has only been a minor thorn in the side of the Alliance, and I have trusted your judgement in regards to her status as a potential threat. And so your meeting with her recently didn't particularly alarm me. Until a few weeks later Taelia finds Captain Fairwind at the bottom of a bottle in an awful establishment in Dampwick, lamenting the loss of his other half to a memory.”

“I don't know what to say, Anduin.”

Anduin sighed. The pitying look in his eyes was back. “I'll admit, Shaw, I don't know the full extent of what VanCleef was to you. I've heard the stories, read the reports. I can't imagine it's easy ordering the execution of someone you hold dear.

“I know my father wasn't a particularly fair man, even at the best of times. His anger often got the best of him, and Onyxia's influence probably amplified that. VanCleef wasn't unreasonable – my mother wouldn't have sided with them otherwise. He also wasn't the one to throw the stone.

“Believe me, Shaw. I have spent a lot of time pondering ‘what ifs'. What if the Black Dragonflight had never been corrupted. What if my mother had lived. What if my father never made his way home. What if Garrosh hadn't been freed. I could spend multiple lifetimes wondering how my life would be different, but that would waste this lifetime. And unfortunately I'm only human. I don't have the luxury of time to waste ruminating over thousands of possible timelines.

“You have a good man that loves you, Mathias. In this life. I implore you not to throw that away. I've come to accept I probably won't marry for love myself. We are both alike that the Crown, and the Alliance come first. But you have such a wonderful opportunity to choose who you get to share your life with.”

Mathias remained silent, thinking on what Anduin had said. Looking up, he could still see the sadness in the King's eyes, but it no longer looked pitying, and no longer seemed to be directed at himself. It seemed instead that Anduin was lamenting the loss of his own agency. 

Anduin caught Mathias' eye, and gave the Spymaster a sad smile. “Please, Mathias. For once, let yourself be happy.”

“I'm afraid it's too late.”

“It’s not. It's never too late to fight for love. Flynn is waiting for you.”

Mathias took a deep breath. He could feel the cup in his hands, its contents no longer hot. Again, it couldn't have been that long that Anduin was ranting at him, but yet again time had gotten away from him. It seemed many things had been slipping away from him a lot recently. His relationship, his happiness, his sanity.

“Sleep on it, Mathias,” Anduin suggested. “You've not been sleeping since Captain Fairwind left. Get some rest, and then go to Boralus and fetch him home.”

Mathias could almost feel the fog in his brain begin to dissipate. The part of himself that had been clamouring to rescue his relationship was starting to take over. His remorse for Edwin remained, but it began to lose its significance. There was no possibility he'd ever forget Edwin and their past, but he realised that no one was asking him to. Flynn hadn't asked him to choose, and Anduin was begging Mathias to choose himself, to choose his own happiness.

Mathias cleared his throat, placing his undrank coffee onto the desk. “I will take my leave, then, your Majesty.”

Anduin raised to his feet alongside Mathias and joined him on his side of the table. “I will see it passed on to Renzik that you'll be taking a temporary absence. If I find out you've been back at work without seeing Captain Fairwind, I'll have you sent to the Stockade.”

Mathias noted the glint in Anduin's eye, but didn't trust that the young King wasn't entirely joking with that threat. “Anduin, these things take time.”

“You've had enough time, Shaw. You are a man of action, so act.”

Mathias sighed, leaning forward in a shallow bow. “Of course, your Majesty.” 

Anduin gave Mathias a hopeful smile as he saw him out, whispering a quiet “good luck" before shutting the door behind him.

Upon leaving the room, Mathias felt the urge to flop against the wall and just let it all go. He was exhausted, physically and mentally. The build up of everything over the past month was finally starting to reach its boiling point in his brain, but he couldn't make a scene here in the Keep. He mechanically adjusted himself, making sure he looked presentable as he left the Keep until he could hide himself away in his flat. The talk with Anduin had definitely opened his eyes, but was humiliating nonetheless.

However, the small reprieve he longed for wouldn't come.

“Good morning, dear Spymaster. We're early today, aren't we?”

Mathias felt every hair on his body stand on end. He was obviously tired if he'd let anyone get the jump on him, least of all Wrathion, with his heavy tread and various jingly accessories. Biting his tongue he turned to face the dragon, doing his best to school his features into something more neutral. “Good morning, Wrathion. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Wrathion's easy smile infuriated Mathias; the black dragon was the walking definition of smug. “I was just out for a leisurely stroll in our great city. I didn't expect to be bumping into your fine self in the Keep so early. An important discussion with our esteemed King?”

“Of sorts. Good day, Wrathion.” Mathias turned on his heel to escape onto his own, but was dragged right back in.

“Any news on our missing Captain?”

“Excuse me?”

“Or are we still mourning the memory of a dead man?”

“Wrathion–”

“Say, he certainly gave off a pirate-y vibe, from what I read in his file. Clearly you have a type.”

“How dare you?!”

Wrathion smirked, his stance at ease, completely unbothered by Mathias' fury. “I like Flynn, Master Shaw. On paper I certainly wouldn't have put the two of you together, but seeing you in person, it made sense. You balance each other. It's almost heartwarming. I'm not a great believer in love myself, but I know you mortals live for it. Are you that much of a self-sacrificing martyr that you'd give it all up for someone who hated you in his final days?”

“What do you want, Wrathion?” Mathias’ hands hurt from the tension of balling them into fists. His previously tired bones now thrummed with adrenaline.

“I want to live vicariously through you, Shaw.”

“You want to interfere.”

“Most definitely. I overheard Anduin's audience with the Fordragon girl. She was begging him to talk with you and make you see sense. And I myself had noticed the good captain's absence from the Blue Recluse. Let me help you reclaim his heart.”

Mathias had to physically stop himself from scoffing and dismissing Wrathion's idea. “What in all of Azeroth would you be getting out of it?”

“First hand knowledge.” Wrathion's expression lost its smug edge. “There is someone I have thought of pursuing… romantically. But my own notions of love and romance are… I don't even think I could say underdeveloped, more non-existent than anything.”

“And you want me to trust you to help retrieve Flynn?”

“Yes, I do. I am a very fast learner and I have already been studying. Come, we can retire to my rooms and I'll show you what I've been working on.”

Mathias sighed; Wrathion looked genuine. Whatever was going on with the black dragon it wasn't a trick or a transaction. He seemed to actually want to help Mathias win back Flynn's heart. “I'm afraid I'll have to pass, Wrathion. I've barely slept a wink in weeks and King Anduin has ordered I rest for the day or be thrown into the stockade.”

Wrathion huffed, a very small, nearly missable puff of smoke expelled from between his lips. “You mortals and your constant need for rest. Very well, I suppose I shall continue my designs by myself. But make sure you stop by before the end of the day, the longer you leave it the harder it might be.”

“As you wish, Wrathion.”

Before he could once again turn to leave, Wrathion gripped his arm, forcing him to meet his scrutinising gaze. “Your eyes certainly are a unique shade of green, Spymaster. I'll see what I can do.” With that, Wrathion sashayed away through the long corridors of the Keep, leaving Mathias with more questions than answers.

Mathias’ heart felt somewhat unburdened when his head finally hit his pillow. Anduin and Wrathion’s insistence that his relationship with Flynn wasn’t destroyed beyond repair gave him hope, though his chest still ached with the knowledge that he’d pushed his lover into an alcoholic, depressive stupor. He had a lot of apologising to do, a lot of grovelling, and most importantly, he needed to completely strip away the guard on his emotions. Flynn deserved to know the full extent of Mathias’ love for him. 

Mathias could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d actually told Flynn he loved him. Flynn was much more forthcoming with his declarations of love, and he knew his lover was much more emotionally stunted so never expected any reciprocation. That needed to change. Mathias never wanted Flynn to doubt his feelings for him. He needed Flynn to be confident that Mathias would lay waste to the whole world just to make sure he was happy. If Flynn needed the moon, then Mathias was going to get him the damned moon.

As his eyes slowly closed, Mathis was sure he could smell the faintest hint of Flynn’s cologne embedded in the pillows.

It was long past sunset that Mathias made his way into Stormwind Keep for the second time that day. He was thankful that he knew all the secret passages to get him in and out without notice; the last thing he wanted was anyone knowing he was seeking Wrathion's council. In his defence, it wasn't like Mathias wanted any advice or ideas that Wrathion may have come up with, but he supposed two brains were better than one. Even if those two brains were completely out of their depth in the romance department.

As he made his way through corridors and up stairs, he had wondered what he would do if Wrathion had chosen to head out for the evening, but found he needn't worry when he saw one of the Blacktalon agents keeping vigil outside of Wrathion's door.

“He is expecting you,” the agent muttered, reaching to his side to open the door for Mathias.

Mathias nodded at the agent and stepped into the room. He honestly didn’t know what to expect when he entered. He knew Wrathion’s tastes were certainly on the more lavish side, possibly bordering on gaudy, and his rooms reflected that perfectly. The white walls were draped with black fabric, lined with red and gold detailing, and the floor covered in carpets and rugs of a similar design. There were shelves and bookcases overflowing with books, scrolls, and other errant leaves of paper. Trinkets and artifacts were dotted all over the room, seemingly without rhyme or reason. In the middle of the room was a low table, similar to those found in Pandaria. Wrathion was sitting on a nest of cushions by the table, fiddling with something small in front of him.

“Good evening, Spymaster. I had worried for a moment or two if you would be gracing me with your company, or if you had fallen into a thousand year sleep.”

“Yes, well, here I am.”

Wrathion finally looked up from his fiddling, regarding Mathias with an appraising look. “Here you are indeed. Do take a seat, Shaw. I am nothing if not a gracious host. Tea? Coffee? Something a little more exotic?”

Mathias looked around, hoping to find something with a little more lumbar support than the floor before settling himself on one of the cushions that the black dragon was eagerly gesticulating towards. “Whatever you have to hand would suffice, thank you.”

Wrathion set down the thing he had been fiddling with to reach for the small kettle that sat quietly steaming on a table off to the side. He methodically heaped a spoon of tea leaves into a strainer before dropping it into a cup, and pouring over the hot water. “The latest Pandaren envoy brought over a nice gift of jasmine green tea. Their cultivation methods are vastly superior to that of the farmers on this continent; the aromatics are much sweeter, and don’t turn bitter as quickly.”

Mathias watched Wrathion with a blank look. Had he known he’d be getting a lecture about the merits of Pandaren tea cultivation techniques, he’d have opted for water. Though knowing Wrathion, he’d still probably get a lecture about whichever mountain spring it was sourced from.

“It’s partly due to the irrigation systems they have set up. Over here the farmers let the land dry out too much, especially in the hotter seasons. It can end up scorching the leaves–”

“If it pleases you, Wrathion, I didn’t come here to discuss irrigation.”

Wrathion smirked. He finished preparing the cup of tea, setting the strainer of leaves to one side and passed the cup over to the Spymaster. “Of course, of course. So, I’ve been thinking.”

“A dangerous notion.”

“Quite. I don’t think it’s enough if you simply go to Boralus and drag Captain Fairwind home. I think this requires a grand gesture. Something extravagant. It needs to be something so out of this world.”

“Extravagant and I don’t really get along very well.” Shaw quietly sipped his tea – Wrathion be damned, it was very good tea.

“Well, perhaps not as extravagant as maybe I would personally go, but something close. I suppose we don’t want Fairwind wondering if you’ve been replaced by a demon.”

“Wrathion–”

“Too soon? My apologies.”

“Can we get to the point?”

Warthion suddenly jumped to his feet and began rifling through a small wooden box on one of the shelves along the wall. He pulled a couple of small items out of it before turning to another shelf and grabbing a small jewellery box. He sat back down and laid the items out in front of him.

Mathias eyed the gemstones that Wrathion had gathered, each a slightly different shade of blue/grey.

“I’ve already taken the liberty of completing one, but I’ll admit I haven’t quite had the chance to gaze into your Captain’s eyes as much as you certainly have. I’ve narrowed it down to these particular stones, but I thought I would consult the expert before I finally cut it and set it.”

“Expert on what?”

“Your lover’s eye colour, of course!” Wrathion pushed the gems closer to Mathias. “I thought I had it with this spinel, but then this sapphire jumped out at me. It has a touch more blue to it, but I worried that in the incorrect lighting it could look too blue.”

Mathias looked over the gems. The colour difference between them all would have hardly been worth noting, but one stone in particular stood out immediately to him. The way the flickering light in the room caught on the multiple faces within the stone created an almost two-toned effect. “This one.”

Wrathion grinned, watching Mathias pick up the stone and hold it up to the light. “Grey tanzanite. I’d almost ruled that one out all together… You’re sure?”

Mathias stared at the gem a little longer; his heart sped up just a touch as he noted the similarities between the expensive stone and Flynn’s eyes. “I am the expert, am I not?”

“Very good.” Wrathion held out his hand, waiting for Mathias to hand over the stone. “I’ll get straight to work finishing the ring before I send it off to the enchanters.”

“Ring?”

“Yes. The plan, Shaw. You think you can win Fairwind back with a meagre apology and a quick roll in the sheets? We need a grand gesture! We need to show him that your love and loyalty to him is eternal and will always be your top priority.” Wrathion moved over to yet another table and grabbed another jewellery box from the top. “I’ve read books, I’ve consulted with multiple people, experts and non-experts alike. I even read a handful of those tawdry novellas – they actually had a lot of good ideas. Like I said, Shaw, I’m far from an expert at relationships and romance alike, but even I know that this is the only way to truly win back his heart.”

Mathias warily eyed the new jewellery box set in front of him. He gingerly took a hold of it and flipped the lid open. Inside was an exquisite ring; a decently sized, pear-shaped, sea-green emerald set into a golden band, surrounded by delicate filigree. It was definitely extravagant, like Wrathion had mentioned. It was expensive, it was gaudy, and it was completely to Flynn’s taste. It also didn’t escape Mathias that the colour of the stone was near-identical to his own eye colour. “What is this?”

“I know certainly well that you’re not the type, Spymaster. I know if you had the choice, you and Fairwind would live as bachelors until the end of your days. I know that any time the attention is on you, you need to hide in the shadows. But Captain Fairwind needs proof. Tangible proof. He needs to know that you would go out of your comfort zone to tell the world that he is yours, and you are his.”

“Wrathion–”

“I know it’s not always an option, and it’s not for everyone, but there is a reason that every love story ends with a wedding, Shaw.”

“You want me to propose to Flynn?”

Wrathion plopped himself down onto his pile of pillows, leaning bodily against the table top. “Not just propose, marry him. Make an honest man out of him, if such a thing is possible.”

Mathias sighed, finally closing the lid on the ring. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is! Use that brain I know you have, Shaw. Think of all the things that Fairwind has sacrificed for you. He moved his life to Stormwind for you, he’s lived in the shadows to satisfy your need to keep things secret. He put up with all the bullshit of you mourning VanCleef for weeks before he finally couldn’t take it any more. It’s time for you to sacrifice something for him. I think your dignity could take the hit.”

Mathias took a moment to think. Wrathion was right, he had never considered marriage for himself, even after finding Flynn. Currently, only the people that needed to know of his relationship knew. Getting married meant inviting people whose opinions didn’t matter to comment on his relationship, and Flynn deserved better than to be dragged down by his association to the Stormwind Spymaster.

Wathion regarded Mathias for a moment; he was very good at schooling his features but Wrathion noted something flick across his usually stoic face. “What’s the problem, Spymaster? Is he not good enough for you to marry? Only worth keeping him ensconced in your flat where no one will see?”

“I’m the one not good enough for him!”

Wrathion was delighted that Mathias had risen to the bait and slouched back against the cushions, resting on his elbows. “My dear Spymaster, the people of Stormwind have certainly done a number on you, haven’t they. Regardless of your own self-hatred, whether you think Fairwind deserves better or not, he chose you. So show him a little respect, perhaps. People don’t like to have their decisions questioned.”

Mathias took a deep breath. The past twenty-four hours had possibly been the longest and most tortuous he’d ever experienced. He hated that he’d reached this point in his life, where his King and his eccentric dragon advisor were trying to help him rescue his relationship. And he hated it more that Wrathion’s idea was sounding better than any idea he could have come up with. “What do you get out of this, Wrathion. This ring- I can’t imagine how much that would fetch for if it was sold.”

“I don’t want payment for the rings, Shaw. Small little trinkets like that, I enjoy making. I make them for myself, and for people I care about. All I want, in exchange, is a favour.”

“A favour.”

“Yes. Well, two favours, but I do hope you’re quite amenable to my terms.”

“What are they?”

“I want to plan your wedding.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I’ve already been planning a little in my spare time. A destination wedding, get out of Stormwind for a while. I know you’ll want to keep the guestlist small, but I can work with that. I just need to figure out who would marry you both, and what the good Captain would wear. You have your dress clothes, obviously.”

Mathias rubbed a hand over his face. The deep regret was settling in over the fact he was actually finding Wrathion’s terms acceptable. Neither of them really had any clue on how to plan a wedding, but by the Light, it’s the last thing Mathias would want to be doing. “And your second term?”

Wrathion cleared his throat, suddenly a little nervous as he looked at Mathias. “When I finally decide to pursue… the person I would like to pursue… You perhaps put in a word for me. I’m not expecting you to go to the extent for me that I am for you, today. But… I’m not completely on good standing with this person at the current moment, but I hope we can bridge the gap in the near future.”

“You do know that King Greymane has been vying to get Anduin to court Tess for many years now, don’t you. If he ever found out–”

“I never mentioned Anduin. What are you talking about?”

“Wrathion. You forget who I am.”

Wrathion pouted, upset that he wasn’t as mysterious as he’d been trying to portray. “Nevermind. Do you agree to my terms or not? I think they’re rather reasonable. I help you set up your engagement to Captain Fairwind, and plan your wedding in Pandaria, and you tell Anduin to stop scowling at me long enough for me to woo him.”

“Pandaria?!”

“Yes! It’s the perfect place! And I won’t be swayed otherwise. So, Mathias Shaw, are you in? Or out?”

Flynn was shocked into consciousness by a pail of freezing water being thrown over him. He flailed about, tangled in the sheet he'd managed to throw over himself when he'd collapsed onto his bed the night before. It took him a few moments to finally be able to crack his eyes open. His room was still a mess; the table and the floor surrounding it covered in bottles, his clothes were strewn all over the place, and there was something moulding over next to the sink. And stood in the middle of all of it was a human woman in dark leathers, pail still in hand and a very unimpressed look on her face.

Flynn groaned, rubbing his eyes. “If you're here to kill me, you didn't need to do that. Just make it quick.”

“You smell worse than the fish market on a hot day, Captain Fairwind. My contact will require you to be scrubbed clean before they receive you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? What contact? Are you here to kill me or not?”

The woman rolled her eyes, dropping the pail to join the mess on the floor. “No, I'm here to fetch you on behalf of my employer. Your presence is required, so put on some dry clothes and we can start getting you presentable.”

Flynn flopped back onto his bed, draping his arm over his eyes. “Look mate, I'm really not in the mood, so if this really is some elaborate scheme to kill me, just get it over with now, please.”

The woman let out a loud huff and took a step closer, grabbing the wet bedsheets and snatching them from around Flynn's legs. “You’re not dying today, Fairwind. Now if you don't mind, we have a schedule to keep.”

When Flynn made no attempt to move, she yanked him by the foot and dragged him onto the floor

“Oi! I don’t appreciate the man-handling!”

She ignored him, grabbing the collar of his coat and hauling him to his unsteady feet. “We don't have time for this. You can either cooperate, or I'll drag you there as you look and as you smell, and trust me, you don't want the latter.”

Flynn managed to wrangle himself out of the woman's grasp and took a few steps on his still wobbly legs, making his way over to the floor-drobe. “Do I at least get a name?”

“No. Get dressed, I'll wait outside.”

It took a while longer than usual, as Flynn was still drunk from the night before, but he eventually made his way out of his temporary accommodation in, not necessarily clean, but dry clothes. 

The woman wrinkled her nose at him as she gave him a once-over. “I suppose it will do for now. Follow me.”

Flynn tried asking questions, trying to discern who the hell this strange woman was. Who did she work for? Mathias would have killed him if he knew that he'd followed a stranger with no issues and no weapons, but Mathias didn't care any more, so he may as well follow this strange woman to his death.

The woman stopped outside of a bathhouse on the nice side of town. “Go inside, give your name. You will be given a towel, soaps and oils, and a clean change of clothes. Do make sure you scrub everywhere, Captain. And don't try to escape. You have an appointment at the barbers in forty minutes so don't take all day.”

Flynn stared wide eyed at the woman, stunned by how bizarre this day was. “What in the Tides is happening?”

“You stink, Fairwind. Bad. Your clothes are tatty and covered in stains, and your hair looks like you were fished from the harbour and dragged through a hedge. Make yourself presentable. Now.”

“Right you are.” Flynn made his way into the bathhouse and gave his name to the older gentleman on the desk. A small basket was thrust into his hands, full of various soaps, oils, and brushes. He followed the directions given and entered into a large room with a deep, steaming pool in the floor. On the edge of the room was a long bench with a small stack of towels and a pile of clothing neatly folded on top. Still slightly drunk, Flynn did his best to not accidentally fall into the bath; the last thing he needed was a humiliating and probably very painful death.

He did ponder who would be notified if he did die. He had no family to speak of, and very few friends. Taelia would be told, of course. Would Mathias? Would his lover– ex lover care? Would he even notice?

The water was hot as Flynn settled himself down. It had been a while since he'd last felt his muscles truly relax; he could feel all the tension from the last few weeks bleed out into the water, leaving him boneless, and a little tired. He took a few moments to enjoy the peace. The room was almost silent, save for the sound of the water dripping through pipes and the ripples in the bath as Flynn moved. Boralus was never silent, it was a city that never slept. And even in the quiet, tucked away part of Old Town that Mathias had lived, one could still hear the sounds from the Dwarvern District, and the hourly tolls from the Cathedral bell tower. It had been a long, long time since Flynn had encountered silence that hadn't been induced through pints and pints of alcohol. 

He didn't like it. Silence meant loneliness.

Not wanting to dwell, as he’d done enough of that to last a lifetime, Flynn began getting himself clean. His hair was the worst to deal with; he hadn’t brushed it in a long while, and there were sections stuck together where he'd not gotten it out of way in time when he vomited up the vast quantities of alcohol he'd been drinking.

He really was pathetic, he thought. He'd had many relationships throughout his life. Some ended well, some ended horribly, and some ended violently. But none of them had sent him into such a depressive episode that he felt the need to drink his life away, too afraid to confront his own sober thoughts. None of his past relationships had resulted in him literally throwing up down himself and passing out in his own filth. What if Mathias had come for him? What if he'd realised he missed Flynn and came to get him back, but stumbled upon the man lying in a heaped mess on a filthy bed in a filthy flat? Of course, he'd turn back around and never look back. At this point Flynn only had himself to blame.

Finally clean enough, Flynn pulled himself from the bath, cringing slightly at the dark, murky water he'd left behind and set about getting himself dry and dressed. The man at the desk had instructed him to leave his previous clothes behind, and so that's what he did.

The woman was still waiting outside when Flynn emerged; this time she looked slightly less disgusted at the sight of him. “At least you smell better now. Come on, we need to sort your hair and moustache out.”

Flynn followed her, still in the nicer parts of the city that he'd never really imagined he'd be a part of. The bath had done wonders at sobering Flynn up, allowing him a little more brain function to try and figure out who the woman was. She didn't look like any SI:7 agent he knew, and really if Mathias had wanted something done with Flynn, he probably wouldn't use his own men. She definitely didn't look like one of the Uncrowned, and most other roguish societies wanted his head on a stick. He was truly at a loss. She bore no sigil or uniform, and her accent sounded like every other person he'd met in the Eastern Kingdoms. Her weapons also gave nothing away, just a simple pair of daggers.

“So what's the bounty on my head?” Flynn asked.

“No bounty. You're wanted alive, and in a fit state to entertain company.”

“Company? What kind of situation am I in, exactly?”

“Not that kind, if you'd kindly get your head out of the gutter. I'm not at liberty to discuss the nature of your summons, I'm just here to facilitate it.”

“So I'm being summoned, eh?”

“Inasmuch that you have no choice but to make an appearance, yes.”

Flynn hummed, quietly contemplating who would orchestrate such a summons. He’d been summoned by the Lord Admiral once before, and she hadn’t given much thought to what he was wearing or what he smelt like. He’d even met King Anduin multiple times, in various states of sobriety, and he also didn’t seem to care too much. He couldn’t think of a single person on Azeroth that would put this much effort into someone else's appearance for a summons. Flynn reasoned with himself that if was being summoned for something important then his handler would have definitely told him something.

Speaking of his handler, the woman came to stop outside what Flynn could only describe as the fanciest barbers he’d ever seen. The place looked like it’d turf out nobles if they weren’t posh enough.

“What the hell are we doing here?!”

The woman rolled her eyes. “You’re getting a cut and a shave.”

“Here?!”

“Yes, here. Now go on inside, we don’t have all day.”

Flynn looked between the woman and the barbers a few more times, trying to wrap his brain around the idea before he was shoved unceremoniously towards the door. Flynn managed to gather himself and walked into the establishment; immediately all eyes were on him, and none of them seemed impressed to see him.

A tall, blonde man eased himself from behind a desk, and gave Flynn a once over, his lip curled in disgust. “Excuse me, sir. We seem to have made a wrong turn, yes?”

Flynn knew his lot in life. He knew who he was, and what he was. This kind of establishment would never welcome him, even if he was knighted with highest honours; however that didn’t stop the unpleasant twisting in his stomach as he was confronted with the blatant disrespect from the man in front of him. Regardless, he kept his head up. Someone had made an appointment for him here, so that someone must be of high standing “I don’t believe so, no. I’m told I have an appointment.”

The man snorted and folded his arms over his chest, openly ridiculing Flynn. “You?”

“Yes. Flynn Fairwind?”

The man’s face fell, his posture suddenly uneasy and nervous. “Oh my Lord, my humble apologies, sir.” He bowed deep and low moving towards the chairs in the back of the shop, back still bent low. “Of course we were told to expect you sir. Excuse my behaviour, please, you have my most sincere apologies.”

Flynn let himself be corralled into a chair, both amused and confused by the man’s sudden attitude change. “Um, don’t sweat it mate. I don’t think I’d have welcomed me in either.”

“No, no, not at all sir. You are most welcome. A guest of a most esteemed patron.” The man scurried about, fetching his tools, a cloth to cover Flynn’s body with, and a steaming cup of tea.

Flynn was encouraged to sit back and put his feet up; he wasn’t sure if this was the usual service, or if the barber was trying to overcompensate for his earlier disrespect. He quietly consulted with the barber, explaining he’d like to keep his current look but just neaten it up; the barber tried to push some of the more contemporary looks, but Flynn refused. There was a back and forth for a little while before Flynn put his foot down. “Mate. I actually like how I look. I’ve had long hair as long as I can remember, I have no plans of chopping it off now.”

“Yes, of course, my apologies.”

“Just give it a trim, neaten it up.”

“Of course, sir.”

Eventually, Flynn was almost a new man. He was freshly shaved, his hair was fantastic, his new clothes actually suited him quite well, and for the first time in several weeks he didn’t smell like a boot.

His female companion still didn’t seem impressed, but he assumed that was a character flaw on her part, rather than anything he had done. He followed her back through Boralus towards the harbour, ending up at the room that had held all the portals that the Alliance champions had used during the war. Two mages were inside, idly passing the time; they jumped up at the sight of them and immediately began weaving their magic.

“Where are we going?” Flynn asked. Now he was nervous. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd used portals for fast travel, and he hated each and every occasion.

“You'll see when you get there,” the woman replied, gently pushing him closer towards the portal that had now appeared.

Flynn tried to see through the wobbly distortion, barely able to make out green. A lot of green, and what looked like a smudge of red.

“Just go,” the woman sighed, moving to shove Flynn through the portal, but he managed to dodge just in time.

“Sorry, I'm going, I'm just nervous.”

“It's a portal, not a trap.”

“How am I to know that? You've told me nothing all day.”

“If I so much as touched a hair or your head, my contact would kill me. It is not in my interest to get you hurt or killed.”

“You pulled me off the bed!”

“Necessary. Will you please go through the portal so I can be rid of you and continue my day?”

Flynn rolled his eyes, but did as was asked of him, carefully stepping into the portal. He hated the way his insides jumbled about, the way his body felt like it was being stretched thin and squashed down simultaneously. He took a deep gulp of air when he passed onto the other side. Looking back he could vaguely see the shape of the woman who had been hounding him all day; she looked like she was turning away. Was she abandoning him here in this random location?

“Captain Fairwind, you're late.”

Flynn spun around, yelping at the appearance of a grumpy looking female orc. He knew they were currently in a time a peace, but that didn't mean he wasn't about to be shanked.

“My employer has organised accommodation for your stay, follow me.”

Flynn looked over the orc; she wore similar leathers to the woman he'd spent all morning with, and credit to her, had a much less hostile look in her eye than the human. “Are you with the grouchy one?”

The orc grunted and turned to walk away. She looked back when after a few paces Flynn didn't follow. “You can find your own way if you want, but it'll be quicker following me.”

Flynn hopped to it, trailing after his new guide. He looked around, taken in by the amazing landscapes that surrounded him. The fields and hills were a rich green, full of life. The red he'd seen in through the portal looked like a small storage shed, but the architecture was nothing he'd seen back home or in the Eastern Kingdoms. It looked like it could be Pandaren, though his interaction with them had been mostly limited to fringe islands dotted around the mainland. To the north were giant, almost vertical mountains that went high up into the clouds. He spotted a path trailing up one side and shuddered to imagine having to hike up there.

As they crested a hill, Flynn saw a bustling village ahead. The buildings were red and yellow, built up on stilts with large round doorways. A few Pandarens were bustling about, finally confirming his location. Flynn had never been to the mainland; Mathias had mentioned it was a beautiful place but they'd been far too busy to make a journey there. Flynn felt a twinge of sadness that Mathias hadn't been the one to bring him here. If anyone needed a break in the peaceful valleys of Pandaria, it was him.

The locals greeted Flynn and the orc warmly as they passed through on the way to the inn. The Pandaren behind the bar acknowledged the orc as they entered, tilting their head in the direction of the staircase towards the back of the building. The orc led Flynn up two flights of stairs before stopping at a closed door.

“This will be your room for tonight. Things have been brought for you – a change of clothes, some of your personal effects, and a book to read in case you get bored. Do not leave the inn, do not wander off, do not get drunk, in fact don’t drink at all. I will return in the morning to assist you in getting ready. Until then the rest of the afternoon is yours.”

“Get ready for what? What do you mean I can’t leave?! What is going on?!”

“Tomorrow you will meet with my employer and his contact. It will be an important event so the less alcohol you’ve consumed prior to the meeting, the better. All will be explained in the evening. Until then, goodday, Captain.”

Flynn gaped, watching as the orc turned and left back down the stairs, leaving him alone. He took a moment to gather himself before cautiously pushing open the door to his apparent room. “This is the weirdest day I’ve ever had,” he muttered, glancing around at the simple but comfortable furnishings. The bed was big and covered by a thick blanket, and on top sat a familiar sailing bag and his nice tricorn. In the corner of the room was a large, squashy armchair; Flynn lowered himself into it and recalled his day.

First he’s awoken by some cantankerous woman with a bucket of water who didn’t give a single hoot that he was horrifically hung over. Then he was dragged all over town to get dolled up, shoved through a portal to the middle of nowhere Pandaria, and now he was sat in a (very nice, mind you) room, forbidden from getting into mischief and to await further instruction. This was a very elaborate and strange kidnapping. “This stuff always happens to me, y’know.”

Flynn decided to make the best of the situation he’d found himself in. His room was clean, he was clean. This employer that was so interested in him clearly had status and money; perhaps he wanted to interest Flynn in a job. At least it’d be something to do. He reached over to his bag, curious to see what belongings this strange employer had decided he might need. A regular set of clothes that were freshly washed, though the smell caught him off guard. He brought the shirt closer to his nose to get a better sniff; the soap used was definitely one that was popular in Stormwind. It was much more floral than the ones used in Boralus, due to the fact they didn’t need to balance the scent of their clothes with the salty sea air. Putting his clothes to one side, he dug deeper. 

The book was old. Its corners were dogeared and the pages were no longer flush together; this book had seen many years. Opening it onto a random page he noticed that some of the lines had been annotated. Small little notes, or phrases highlighted. The handwriting made his stomach lurch. Flynn knew that Mathias’ handwriting wasn’t unique, many of the more well-educated population of Stormwind were taught the same script, but he’d long learned that most coincidences weren’t coincidences. Either Mathias had something to do with this elaborate kidnapping, or this mysterious employer had managed to steal one of his books.

The last thing that caught Flynn’s eye in his bag was a small jewellery box. He wasn’t familiar with the design of it, it wasn’t from any jeweller he’d patronised, as the majority that got his business weren’t fancy enough for little wooden boxes with intricate designs on them. He popped open the lid and nearly dropped the whole thing upon seeing its contents. An earring he was deeply familiar with; a gold hoop with a delicate chain that held a beautifully deep blue sapphire. He wasn’t usually one for dangly earrings, as they were a bit of a hazard when sailing, but this was one he’d been gifted a while ago. It perfectly matched a certain someone’s dress blues, as had been the idea when Mathias presented it to him. The couple had been invited to a formal dinner at the Keep, but before Flynn had been able to get his outfit tailored the whole affair had been called off as Anduin was called away. Flynn remembered how shocked Mathias had been when he’d gifted it to Flynn, he’d spoken as if he’d fallen into a trance when buying it, with only one thought echoing through his mind. Flynn would like this. He’d mourned the loss of an occasion to wear such a beautiful piece, but he looked at it often, hoping another occasion would arise.

He felt sick as he looked at the earring now. He’d left it behind when he returned to Boralus. It should still be sitting on the shelf in Mathias’ bedroom right now. But it was here. In his hands. If anything confirmed that Mathias had had some hand in this, it was this. Now he just needed to figure out what.

The next morning Flynn was woken in a much nicer fashion than the previous day. The Pandaren innkeeper knocked on his door before letting himself in, carrying a tray containing rice, baked fish, and some greens, as well as a steaming cup of tea. He let Flynn know that a bath would be prepared for him within the hour and that the orc lady from yesterday would be arriving within two. Flynn thanked him warmly and dug into his breakfast.

He’d had a lot of time to think last night and the only concrete theory he could come up with was that Mathias was in some kind of trouble and was being used as bait to get Flynn to in turn be used as bait to leverage something from Mathias – little did the kidnappers know that Flynn didn’t mean anything to Mathias any more. It sounded better in his head, but it made the most sense. Every other theory ended up with him being killed and he just couldn’t figure out why this mysterious employer had gone to the effort of getting Flynn cleaned and dressed and all fancy just to off him. Whatever the situation was, it was too late now. He’d quite happily followed the strange woman to Pandaria, and now he was here with no idea of how to get back.

He ate his breakfast, took his bath, and waited for the orc to show up. When she did she said nothing and led him out into the village to a small stall, manned by a small Pandaren woman and an elderly gnomish man.

“What colours are we doing for him, ma’am?” The gnome asked, breaking out a long fabric measuring tape.

Flynn glanced around, trying to figure out what was happening. The Pandaren ushered him onto a raised platform and asked him to remove his outer clothes.

The orc handed over a small journal to the gnome. “It must be ready for tonight.”

The gnome leafed through the book, humming and comparing whatever was written to some of the rolls of fabric he currently had out. “Yes, of course, I have a full team ready to get to work once we have our measurements. Any requests from the gentleman?”

Flynn shrugged. He’d figured out he was getting a tailored outfit, but for what? “Um, I suppose try and trim me down a little in the waist?”

The gnome laughed as he slapped the journal shut. “Of course, lad. It wouldn’t do to not make a garment that doesn’t flatter the wearer. We have an authentic Kul Tiran satin for the shirt, and a nice tight-weave wool for the trousers and overcoat. We’ll do our best to match the wool to the satin, that shade of green is quite unique. But it will be done, as per the Prince’s instructions.”

Flynn’s head swivelled. Prince? “Prince? What prince?”

“Excuse me, Mister Fairwind, please hold still.” The Pandaren tried her best to rotate Flynn back into his previous position as she measured his upper and inner arm length.

“What prince?”

“I’m not sure, sir. I only work here measuring and helping construct the garments, I’m not privy to that kind of client information.”

Flynn tried to crane his neck again, but the orc and gnome had stepped away from the stall to talk quietly amongst themselves. “Do you know what this outfit is for?”

The Pandaren shook her head, calmly continuing to measure Flynn. “All I know is that it’s an important commission, paid for in excess and needs to be completed by sundown. I believe the patron is known to Mister Thistlestamp, but I’ve not met him myself.”

“What’s happening at sundown?”

“I’m not sure, Mister Fairwind. But it must be important.”

Anduin had long since stopped being amused by Wrathion’s antics, but he had to admit this new scheme had him tickled. It helped that Shaw was clearly embarrassed by the whole situation; it had been a long time since he’d seen his Spymaster appear so human.

“You know, Wrathion, if you’d just wanted a holiday to Pandaria, you could have just gone. You didn’t need to come up with an elaborate wedding heist for our poor Spymaster.”

Wrathion grinned wickedly. “Nonsense, Anduin. Had I simply taken a week away to the Veiled Star I’d have had to go alone. Only by roping in Shaw was I guaranteed to secure your attendance, too.”

Mathias sighed quietly to himself. Since Anduin had arrived at the Shrine, he’d had to endure the King and his advisor sniping at each other. It seemed to be good natured, but it got tiresome very quickly. Especially as he seemingly wasn’t allowed to escape to his own rooms.

“Are you trying to tell me that you’ve concocted this entire plan and spent all that gold and couldn’t find a way to trick me here?”

“I’d never want to trick you, my dear King. Nor would I want to kidnap you – though I very easily could. Is it too much to want your genuine company? I would so appreciate it if you wanted to spend time with me.”

“I’m sure I’m not needed here, gentlemen,” Shaw said, making a move to slip out of the room.

Wrathion grabbed his arm before he could get too far, pulling him back to his seat. “We’re merely hours before your nuptials, Shaw. I’ve read it is custom to spend time with your wedding party before the ceremony.”

Mathias took in a deep breath through his nose, counting slowly to ten.

“I know you’re concerned, Shaw, but Fairwind will say yes.”

Mathias turned to Anduin, trying his best to put on some sort of smile. “Thank you for the confidence, your Majesty.”

“Besides, the others should be arriving any time soon,” Wrathion said, picking up his goblet of wine.

“Others?”

“Fordragon, Lady Proudmoore, and Greymane. Oh, and Captain Proudmoore. I thought we should balance out the audience a little more. It was the best I could do at short notice. Anduin helped.”

Anduin smiled awkwardly at Mathias, as if ashamed to have been roped into the scheme too. “My sincerest apologies, Mathias. But it was the only way we could ensure they’d arrive in a timely manner.”

Mathias rubbed his head. He’d be lucky if he got to see Flynn again, let alone marry him if this odd pair didn’t kill him through stress first. “You needn’t have bothered, your Majesty.”

“Master Shaw, I have bent over backwards organising this thing. I’ll be damned if no one saw the amount of effort I’ve gone to to make sure this is a wedding for the ages,” Wrathion argued, gesticulating wildly with his wine. “By the way. I had your ring finished.”

Mathias perked up at the mention of his ring. Since Wrathion had gotten him to choose the stone he’d not seen a single peek at the ring that, should everything go to plan, he was to wear for the rest of his life. Wrathion had assured him it would be to his taste, and fit his lifestyle, but he’d also kept it a closely guarded secret.

“Do you want to see it?” Wrathion’s grin was unsettling; it would take a lot more wine than he’d consumed to get drunk, but he was acting very uninhibited.

“Would it not ruin the surprise?”

“Honestly Shaw, I’ve been picking up a lot of things with this romance business, and I think it would be best if you had all cards in hand. That way your focus would entirely be upon Captain Fairwind. You won’t need to look away from him for even less than a second; the less distracted you are, the better. So screw the surprise. Take a look.”

Shaw caught the ring box that was suddenly tossed at him. Inside was another beautiful handcrafted piece by Wrathion. This design was much simpler than Flynn’s ring. The stone was embedded a little deeper into its setting, less likely to catch on anything, and the intricate patterns were engraved into the golden band. It was still much flashier than anything he would ever consider wearing, but the way the bue-grey stone winked at him under the lights confirmed his feelings.

“It’s beautiful, Wrathion,” Anduin breathed, leaning over Mathias’ chair to get a good look. “I didn’t know you could craft such amazing jewellery.”

Wrathion almost blushed at the compliment, choosing to hide behind his goblet. “Thank you, Anduin. Should you wish to commission anything, I would be honoured.”

Mathias cleared his throat, ensuring no one noticed the way he was getting a little choked up. “You’re sure it will keep up with my life?”

“Unless something goes terribly wrong, this ring should long outlast you, Spymaster. It’s near indestructible – as is Fairwind’s – and I also threw in a fun little enchantment in the spirit of love and romance. If you rub on the stone, it will send a little pulse to its pair. Should you be working late, unable to get home to your husband, a little caress to the gem will let him know that you’re thinking of him. And likewise, if he’s on a long, arduous journey across the sea, and misses you dearly, he can let you know.

“Also no one can remove it from your finger without your permission. Once it’s on your finger, it is on until you remove it.”

“That’s brilliant, Wrathion!”

“Thank you, Anduin. I thought so too.”

Mathias continued to stare at the ring. Part of him was terrified that this would be the only opportunity he would get to see it. If Flynn said no, if Flynn wanted nothing more to do with him then he’d have no reason to keep the ring. He had to give credit to Wrathion, he’d truly gone above and beyond for him, with no real benefit to himself. He didn’t deserve this level of help, especially when the collapse of his relationship was his own fault. But for all that this experience was incredibly humbling, Flynn was worth every second. Mathias would endure a lifetime of teasing from the black dragon if it meant Flynn would return to him. 

During the past week that Wrathion had been orchestrating the whole thing, Mathias had had nothing but time to think. He was mortified that he’d allowed himself to let Flynn slip through his fingers. The Captain was the best thing to happen to him. He’d found someone who understood him, and always met him where he was at, never once asking him to change, and he’d ruined it by dwelling on his ancient history with a man who’d never seen him as more than a friend. Mathias didn’t even know if VanCleef was his first love. His feelings for Edwin were never as strong as they were for Flynn. It had taken a few decades, but Mathias knew he had found the one person in Azeroth that he would spend the rest of his life loving.

Wrathion quickly polished off the rest of his wine and pulled himself to his feet. “Come along, Spymaster. It’s time to get ready.”

Flynn was once again told nothing as he was dragged to the flightmaster on the edge of the village by the orc. He’d been told to dress nicely and take his bag with him before being shoved onto the oversized kite with a small Pandaren child as a guide. He’d asked her where they were headed, but was only given the vague answer of “up there”.

The sun was hanging low in the sky as they made their journey up the mountainside, ready to set within the hour, and Flynn felt a little melancholy as he took in the view. A part of him wondered if this was going to be his last sunset. He still had no idea what was happening; every time he thought he’d figured it out something else happened that completely flipped that idea. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be terrified as the kite flew higher and higher, with no way to secure Flynn down so he wouldn’t potentially tumble off. And wouldn’t that be a way to go, he thought.

The kite flew higher and higher still before finally coming to land on a decently sized outcrop. The child turned to grin at him, asking if he enjoyed the journey.

“Well it was certainly something. Not a big fan of flying myself. Say, where am I going now?”

The child pointed further up the mountain. “Up there, mister. It’s not very far but it’s too windy for my kite.”

Flynn nodded, peering up to see what looked like a plateau. “Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!”

Flynn watched as the child organised her kite once more before taking off and descending down the mountain. He took in a deep breath, taking a moment to enjoy the view as the sun slowly got closer and closer to the horizon and all the colours that danced across the sky. “Well, best get hiking,” he muttered, making his way towards the small path he’d seen that led further up the mountainside. The plateau above looked purposefully built; the closer he got he could see low walls around the edge and the dirt path became stone steps. 

A silhouetted figure stood on one side of the plateau, face turned towards the sunset. Flynn cautiously stepped forward, letting his bag drop to his feet. The quiet thump of his belongings hitting the ground alerted the figure to Flynn’s presence, and time felt like it stopped as they saw each other for the first time in weeks.

“Mat?”

Mathias immediately felt his throat close up, emotions completely taking over as he finally saw Flynn. He took several steps forward, closing the gap between them but still leaving enough space for Flynn to turn away if he wanted.

“What’s going on, Mathias?”

Mathias cleared his throat, awkwardly running his fingers through his hair. “Flynn, I…”

“Are you in some kind of trouble? Is this a trap?”

“A trap?”

“Or is this some elaborately cruel way to put me down? I was an easy target for weeks, Mathias, a knife in the back would have done the trick.”

“No! No, not at all. Flynn, I missed you, I–”

“You missed me?!”

“Terribly so. I could barely function without you, to the extent that the High King of the Alliance felt it prudent to stage an intervention.”

“Mathias–”

“I know what I did, Flynn. I know I treated you terribly, and you deserve so much better than me. But… I need you by my side.”

Flynn took a moment to mull over Mathias’ words. He glanced around, taking in the beautiful scenery around him, the incredible sunset that was starting on the horizon, before landing on the usually confident man in front of him. Mathias was in his civilian clothes and they made him look much smaller than his armour did; and it didn’t help that in this moment his former lover looked so lost and so sad. Flynn took a deep breath, finally finding his words. “You hurt me, Mathias. More than anyone has ever hurt me before.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I would sail to the ends of the ocean for you. You are my guiding star, and I had to sit and watch you torment yourself for weeks. You were completely lost to me, and I tried so hard to get through to you but instead you let him dominate your mind. I love you so much Mathias, more than I think you realise, but I just can’t sit around and watch you slowly kill yourself whilst thinking of another man. At some point I had to put myself first.”

Mathias reached out, gently curling his fingers around Flynn’s arm. “I know, and I don’t blame you. I haven’t been myself. A part of me desperately wanted to go to you, to seek comfort and show you that I do love you, and want you. But that other part of me trapped me. Since the Broken Shore I’ve been susceptible to losing myself to my own negative thoughts, held in a prison in my own mind, telling myself I don’t deserve love, or loyalty. That I don’t even deserve to live. Usually my tormentor is myself and I’ve learned through the years to ignore my own self-sabateur, but to see Edwin in front of me, telling me things I’ve suppressed for decades…”

Flynn frowned, reaching to cup Mathias’ cheek in his hand. “Oh, Mat.”

“I had to watch you pull away, Flynn. I told myself I deserved it, that I wasn’t good enough for your love and you’d be better off without me. I couldn’t put up a fight because part of me worried that you’d agree I wasn’t worth fighting for.

“I don’t know what Anduin said to me a week ago, but he somehow got through to me. Edwin is my past, and he always will be. Nothing I can do will change what happened, and given the chance I wouldn’t take it. You are my present, and hopefully my future, so, I’ve come to fight for you. Like I should have months ago. I need you, Flynn. I spent so much of my life alone, not knowing what I was missing out on. I can’t go back to that, not after you’ve shown me how beautiful life can be with someone you love at your side.”

“I’ll always be yours, Mathias. Can you promise me the same?”

“Yes. Whatever your terms, I will agree to them. I never wanted to hide you away because I was ashamed of you – I would never be ashamed of you, Flynn Fairwind. I only worried that should people know of you, then you’d be used against me. I know you would say it’s hypocritical of me, but whilst I would happily die for you, I would never want you to die for me. Or because of me”

“Mat–”

“I know. But I’ve had nothing but time to think, and I’ve realised loving someone could never be a weakness. Genn has Mia, Tyrande has Malfurion, there are even rumours of the Regent Lord courting the First Arcanist. They are all stronger for having someone they love and trust at their side.”

“You’re such a silly bastard, you know?”

Mathias managed a chuckle, letting Flynn cup his other cheek and press their foreheads together. “I’ve been made aware of it, yes.”

“But so am I. I’ve had so many relationships in my life, Mat, but none of them wrecked me as much as this one. For the first time I thought I’d managed to actually find the love of my life, and then I failed you.”

“No, Flynn, it was I who failed you.”

“We failed each other. I should have fought harder for you. It should have been me to break you out of your cage, but instead I gave up.”

Mathias grabbed onto Flynn’s biceps, keeping him close. “It’s not your fault, Flynn.”

“I love you, Mathias. So much. But I can’t do that again.”

“You won’t have to. If you come back to me I will dedicate myself fully to you. You will always be my priority.”

“You promise?”

“Actually–” Mathias shoved his way out of Flynn’s arms and began rummaging in his trouser pocket. “I almost forgot.” He pulled out the ring box, and with shaky hands, opened the lid to show Flynn its contents. “I promise to always be yours. Mentally and physically.”

Flynn couldn’t hold back the gasp he let out upon seeing the ring. Upon seeing Mathias with a ring. “Is this…?”

“It is.”

“But you hate weddings.”

“I wouldn’t hate ours. And as luck would have it, if you agree it’s scheduled to be at sundown.”

Flynn stared blankly, trying to digest that information. “Excuse me?”

Mathias smiled, carefully pulling the ring from its cushion. “I had an aide in organising all of this – that is to say, I organised nothing. A week ago I was told that the best way to win back your heart would be to marry you, and I had balked at the idea. But I’ve had a week to think on it, and I think Wrathion was right. I love you, Flynn. Wholeheartedly. There is no one else for me, and even if there was I only want you.

“You’re right, I hate weddings. They’re a security nightmare, an assassination attempt waiting to happen. But I trust Wrathion has done his due diligence. And I’d never imagined myself getting married, but, I never had anyone I wanted to marry before.”

“And you want to marry me?”

“I do.”

Flynn grinned, extending his hand to allow Mathias to slip on the ring. “You’re an idiot, Mathias Shaw.”

Mathias couldn’t help but laugh as Flynn swept him into a tight embrace, littering his cheek and forehead with kisses. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Flynn held Mathias out at arms lengths, melting inside at the look of unabashed happiness on his lover's face. “A thousand times yes, Mathias… Wait, is this what all of this was about?”

“All of what?”

“Me getting dragged around town by that prickly woman, getting all tarted up. It was so you could win back my heart?”

“I don’t know of which prickly woman you encountered, but I suppose it was?”

“Mate, she looked downright miserable. I suppose I was in no fit state to entertain company, but even after my bath she looked dour. And the haircut, and the outfit making? All you?”

“Not quite. Wrathion handled all of it, he insisted. But it was all to lead to this, yes. And you do look handsome.”

“Not as gorgeous as you.”

“Flynn–”

Flynn cut Mathias off with a kiss, folding him back into another embrace. He could feel Mathias smiling into the kiss and his fingers combing through his hair. For the first time in a long time, Flynn felt giddy in love.

The couple held each other and kissed, completely ignoring the sun setting behind them. They didn’t need anything else, just each other. The physical and mental toll it had taken on them both to be apart had vanished as they took solace in each other.

Just before the sun fully dipped beyond the horizon, a portal opened up on the far side of the plateau.

The person that stepped out began slowly clapping. “Absolutely wonderful. I knew you had it in you, Shaw.”

The couple pulled away to see Wrathion, wearing a more elaborate outfit than usual grinning at them.

“Wrathion.”

“Just in time, too. Come on, gentlemen, your wedding awaits.”

Once through the portal, the couple were separated to get changed into their wedding outfits. Flynn could hardly take in what was happening. Wrathion presented him with the outfit that he had been measured for earlier in the day; its colours were very similar to that of the Kul Tiran admiralty, deep sea green overcoat and silk shirt with golden hardware. Everything fit him like a glove. 

Taelia helped Flynn get ready, fluttering around him excitedly. “You’re actually getting married, Flynn! I can’t believe this day has actually come!”

Flynn smiled shyly, letting Taelia fiddle with his epaulets. “Me neither, Tae.”

“Honestly, I was ready to go to Stormwind and fucking smash your beloved with my hammer. He’s lucky I showed restraint.”

“Well, thanks for not squashing him.”

“He definitely makes you happy, right Flynn? I can always go and smash him if I need to.”

Flynn grinned, tugging on his belts to get them into a comfier position. “How about you leave smashing Mathias to me, eh?”

Tandred even made an appearance to help him with his hair.

“Congratulations, Captain Fairwind.”

“Captain Proudmoore. What’s a noble sailor like yourself doing at a Fairwind wedding?”

Tandred smirked. “Not just any Fairwind. This Fairwind helped the Kul Tiran people fight against the pirates that wanted to destroy them, helped aid the Alliance war effort, and helped to unite Kul Tiras with the Alliance after years of separation. And after he’d done all of that, he somehow managed to get the elusive Stormwind Spymaster to fall in love with him.

“This is an auspicious wedding, Captain Fairwind. One that truly unites Kul Tiras and Stormwind as more than just allies. I know you turned down a place in the admiralty, but we want you to know that we have your back.”

“Thanks. That means a lot, mate.”

“I was also told to make sure you put on the earring, whatever that means?””

Flynn got up from his chair and moved over to his bag that had been brought in. He’d almost forgotten about it but now everything was making sense. Everything that had been sent over in his sailing bag were things that he’d left behind at Mathias’ home. Mathias had sent them in hopes of reminding him of their life together. Looking at the book he finally remembered it as a title that Mathias had recommended to him. A story that had touched his heart, that he made an effort to read at least once a year if possible. And the earring. It hadn’t been Mathias clearing out space on his shelves, it was sent ahead with the intention of Flynn wearing it to a special occasion, with a beautifully tailored outfit to match. Their wedding.

Flynn unhooked the small hoop he currently had in his left ear, and carefully clipped in the sapphire. It didn’t quite match his dress clothes, but it would bring them both together when he finally stood at Mathias’ side.

“That’s a nice piece, Fairwind.”

“A gift from my beloved.”

“It matches his blues.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to need the ring back, by the way.”

“What, why?”

“Shaw needs to slip something onto your finger, and Prince Wrathion only designed one each.”

Flynn looked down at the ring currently on his finger, admiring the beauty in its craftsmanship. “The black dragon, Wrathion?”

“The very one.”

“He designed this?”

“He designed everything. Make sure to thank him.”

Flynn nodded as he pulled the ring off his finger, handing it over to Tandred. “Look after it, mate.”

Tandred laughed, pulling out the ring box he had in his pocket. “Don’t worry about that. I don’t think even my sister could prevent Master Shaw from murdering me if I did anything to disrupt this wedding. Quite a-um… Stabby husband, you’ve got.”

“He’s amazing, isn’t he.”

The wedding ceremony was a blur to Flynn. As soon as he stepped out onto the terrace and saw Mathias in his dress blues, staring back at him like he hung the moon and all the stars, his brain turned off. He almost ran to Mathias, but Tandred’s steady hand on his shoulder forced him to walk at a reasonable pace. There were vows, there were speeches from the King of the bloody Alliance and the Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras. Flynn had been born a nobody, and had grown up as a nobody, and now here he was with royalty at his wedding, discussing how wonderful he was, and how perfect he and Mathias were for each other. Rings were exchanged; Flynn hesitated when Tandred passed him Mathias’ ring. The stone almost looked like the dragon had plucked out his eyeball and set it into the golden band. He looked to his own ring, once again snugly fit on his third finger and glanced up at Mathias. The emerald was near-identical.

The small congregation cheered when the priest declared them formally wed and Flynn surged forward to kiss his husband, a kiss that definitely went on for far too long and Mathias had to pry himself out of Flynn’s arms.

“Later, Flynn.”

Flynn chuckled, leaning closer to Mathias’ ear, his hands starting to wander. “Is that a promise, Mat?”

“If you can behave for the rest of the evening.”

“You know I never behave.”

Mathias smirked, holding his reply as he saw Anduin and Jaina coming towards them.

“My sincerest congratulations, gentlemen,” Jaina said, a genuinely happy smile on her face.

“Thank you, Lady Proudmoore.”

Anduin stepped forward to rest a hand on Mathias’ shoulder, beaming from ear to ear. “I’m so proud of you, Mathias. I’m so glad you took mine and Wrathion’s advice.”

“As am I, your Majesty.”

Anduin turned his attention to Flynn. “Please look after him, Captain. He’s prone to getting into trouble from time to time.”

Flynn grinned. “Don’t I just know it, your Kingship. Say, how long do these festivities go on for, only Mat and I haven’t seen each other in weeks, if you know what I mean.”

Mathias groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Light help me.”

Anduin and Jaina laughed, enjoying the bright red flush covering Mathias’ face.

“Not too long, I believe. There’s perhaps a light evening meal and a dance or two, then I believe you’ll both be permitted to… How would you word it, Jaina?”

“Consummate? Their marriage?”

Matthias huffed, unhooking his arm from around Flynn and stomped off. “I’m going to speak with King Greymane.”

Flynn laughed as he watched his husband leave. “He’s so fun to tease.”

“Thank you for seeing past Shaw’s mistakes, Captain Flynn. He’s a good man, and he cares a lot. He just struggles to show it.”

“And thank you, King Anduin, for talking some sense into him. I was worried I’d lost him for good.”

Mathias eventually rejoined Flynn after being teased more by King Greymane and his wife, who until now Mathias had thought was a decent, lovely woman. Apparently she had the exact same sense of humour as her husband. He’d been glancing around, looking for any excuse to leave after Genn’s fourth jeer in regards to his sex life when he felt his finger tingle. Touching his ring he looked around to see Flynn rubbing the emerald on his own ring, Wrathion stood beside him as they watched Mathias.

Flynn lit up when he saw Mathias’ attention on him.

Mathias smiled back, gently rubbing over the gem of his ring to reciprocate the feeling before excusing himself and making his way over. “Wrathion.”

“Master Shaw. Enjoying your wedding?”

“More than I could have imagined, thank you.”

Flynn pulled Mathias closer, wrapping his arms around his middle. “How much longer must we schmooze, dearest?”

Wrathion chuckled quietly. “Not much longer, Captain. Just one dance and some food, then you and your good husband can go and make up for lost time.”

“Will you all please stop encouraging him,” Mathias sighed.

Flynn just giggled to himself, pressing a number of kisses to the side of his husband’s face. “I love you, Mathias.”

“I love you too. Please stop trying to destroy my reputation with various leaders of the Alliance.”

“Never. Come dance with me, husband.”

Mathias allowed himself to be led into a clear space in the middle of the terrace, doing his best to ignore all the eyes that were upon him. He let Flynn take his hand and his waist, and followed his lead, putting his other hand on Flynn’s shoulder.

“This isn’t a dream, is it?” Flynn asked, resting his temple against Mathias’.

“I hope not. I’m glad you gave me another chance, Flynn. Light knows I didn’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t leave because I wanted to, Mat. I never stopped loving you. I’d hoped that one day you would have come for me.”

“You’re too forgiving.”

“And you’re not forgiving enough. Let me decide if I deserve you or not.”

Mathias nodded, pushing himself closer to Flynn, releasing his hand to curl both arms around his husband’s neck. “I trust you, Flynn.”

Flynn in turn wrapped his arms tightly around Mathias’ waist, pulling their bodies flush together. “I love you so much, Mathias. You’ll never be rid of me again.”

“Good. I am yours. Eternally.”

Flynn pulled Mathias in for a sweet kiss, completely uncaring who was watching. The couple had stopped dancing, instead barely swaying in time to the music as they continued to trade kiss after kiss. Flynn readjusted his hold of Mathias’ middle, slipping his arms underneath his overcoat to get a closer embrace, and to also conceal his wandering hands from the congregation.

Mathias pulled away from Flynn just barely, their noses still touching. “Release my backside please.”

Flynn smirked, pressing quick pecks to Mathias’ lips. “Mm-no. I don’t think I will.” To emphasise his point, Flynn squeezed the handful of Mathias he’d managed to grope.

“The King is watching.”

“Let him watch.” Flynn silenced whatever Mathias was going to say next with another kiss. Mathias decided not to put up a struggle, they were newlyweds, afterall.

Eventually Flynn had had enough of entertaining their guests and pulled away, he grabbed Mathias’ hand and started dragging him towards the private quarters. “Sod the dinner, I’m jumping straight to dessert.”