Title: The Inevitable Hot Tub Fic
Fandom: World of Warcraft
Rating: G
Length: ~ 1000 words
Content notes: No warnings
Author notes: Less shippy than I'd hoped, but I can never quite get past the ever-present guards.
Summary: Canonical hot tubs are meant to be used.



Anduin had once asked Wrathion why he didn't use the hot tub behind the Tavern in the Mists. It was right there, after all, and this high in the mountains, the air was usually chilly. If he recalled correctly, Wrathion had muttered something about it barely qualifying as 'hot' by dragon standards and besides, it was hardly ever empty. (The fact that he refused to share was left as implication rather than directly stated, but Anduin suspected that was because sharing simply never occurred to him.)

Given that conversation, he was surprised to arrive at the tavern and find Wrathion neck deep in the steaming water. Granted, the tub was empty of anyone else, though Anduin wasn't sure whether that was by chance or if Wrathion had run them off.

“I thought you didn't like the hot tub.”

“I'm giving it another chance,” Wrathion said, everything about his attitude suggesting that Tong, or possibly the hot tub itself, should be honored.

“I'll just wait inside.” It might be a little dull alone, but it would be unreasonable to expect him to drop everything as soon as Anduin arrived. Unlike Wrathion, Anduin was rarely unreasonable.

“I had always heard that hot water could be beneficial for injuries such as yours. Perhaps you'd care to join me instead?”

Anduin had already turned to go back inside, but he paused to consider the unexpected invitation. At times like this, being furred like the pandaren would be awfully convenient. As he wasn't, his first instinct was to refuse. But that was silly, wasn't it? No one here (except possibly his guards) would be shocked if he were to accept. On the contrary: they were probably more surprised he hadn't made use of the hot tub already. And Wrathion was right: since he'd been injured, the damp air here always made his bones ache. It wasn't especially bad today, at least not any worse than usual, but the hot tub would still help ease it a little.

“Let me just see about a towel.”

Actually getting into the tub required more assistance than he would have liked, but once he was in and past the initial shock of the heat, it felt wonderful. Anduin leaned back against the side of the tub and stretched out his legs, enjoying the luxury of movement that was almost completely free of pain. Strange to think how recently he'd taken it for granted.

When he looked up, he saw Wrathion watching him curiously. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes. It always hurts at least a little.” Perhaps it was foolish to admit weakness to a black dragon, but Anduin saw little point in lying about something so obvious.

“Doesn't that bother you?” Wrathion seemed simultaneously fascinated and horrified by the concept of permanent injury.

“You're staring,” Anduin pointed out. He was trying not to let it get to him, but he was still grateful that the heat of the water would account for any pinkness in his cheeks. There was something about the intensity of Wrathion's stares combined with the near-nudity customary for the hot tub that made him uncomfortable. “And yes, of course it does, but there's nothing more that can be done. It's a good thing I'd already decided to train with Velen. I wouldn't make much of a warrior now.”

“I don't understand why you wanted to be a priest in the first place. You don't have natural armor and you don't wear any that would really protect you. You do more healing than actual fighting. Doesn't it make you feel weak?”

Anduin laughed; Wrathion sounded honestly puzzled by something that to him seemed so simple. “My father would agree with you. But strength doesn't just come from weapons and armor. With the Light as my ally, I never feel weak.” It was perhaps something you had to have the right personality to appreciate. If Wrathion didn't understand it, Anduin doubted he could ever explain. He'd learned that the hard way. Though neither would appreciate the comparison, sometimes he thought Wrathion and his father were surprisingly similar.

But even after what had happened with the Divine Bell, he still meant every word he'd said. He didn't feel weak and he didn't doubt the power of the Light. He'd been reckless and he was paying the price for that, that was all.

“Perhaps. But is it strong enough for what is to come?”

“It'll have to be.” Anduin's tone was deliberately discouraging. He understood the value of looking toward the future perfectly well – it was one of the earliest lessons a prince had to learn - but he thought Wrathion spent far too much time dwelling on it. Even if he were right and the Burning Legion was coming, they still had their lives to live in the meantime.

Wrathion had fallen silent, at least temporarily out of questions, so Anduin asked one of his own. “Why did you really decide to use the hot tub today?” As attempts to change the subject went, it wasn't particularly subtle, but it would serve the purpose well enough.

“I told you. Pandaren come from miles around just to use it, so I wanted to give it another try.”

It was possible that Wrathion was telling the truth, but something in his tone of voice made Anduin suspect that at the very least, it wasn't the whole truth. “I think there's something more to it than that.”

“You think that about everything I say.”

“That's because I'm usually right.”

“If you're so certain I have an ulterior motive, you'll have to figure it out yourself. What fun would it be if I just told you?”

Anduin shook his head, though he couldn't quite keep from smiling. He didn't share Wrathion's fondness for guessing games, but at some point, they had become so familiar as to seem almost charming. “You can never be straightforward about anything.”

Wrathion smirked at him as though he'd just been given a tremendous compliment. “I thought that was what you liked about me.”