Anduin did not reply, but felt a gentle warmth stealing through him. Softly, Rohan said, 'Ye're a good lad, Anduin Llane Wrynn. Ye've a good heart. Know that even if it breaks, it will mend again."
And as the dwarf withdrew, Anduin realized that there had been no magic performed on him at all. And yet he felt better.
Healing, it would seem, took many forms.
When he returned to his rooms, he found Wvll waiting with a note from Magni asking Anduin to come to his quarters. Anduin was confused but immediately went.
Magni was waiting for him. The room in which he greeted Anduin was surprisingly small and cozy, very dwarven in its snug feeling, unlike the large, airy, human rooms. A brazier burned cheerily, and the table was piled with simple but hearty fare. Anduin's stomach growled quite audibly, and he realized he hadn't eaten for several hours. Ever since Aerin's… death, he had not had much of an appetite, but now, looking at the assortment of roast meats, fruits, breads, and cheeses displayed on the table, it seemed to return with a vengeance. Life, it would appear, did go on. The body had needs that had to be satisfied, even if, as Rohan said, one's heart was broken.
"There ye are, lad," Magni greeted him. "Pull up a chair and dive right in." His own plate was already piled high, and Anduin did as he was bid, enjoying the roast lamb, Dalaran sharp, and grapes.
"I wanted tae have a few words wi' ye afore the ritual on the morrow," Magni said, reaching for his tankard and downing a big swig of ale. "Afore the earthquake, I had a wee chat with Aerin."
The food stuck in Anduin's throat, and he reached for his own glass of juice to wash the suddenly tasteless food down.
"She said she'd never seen anyone try harder at sparring, and she's trained quite a few warriors. But… she also said the weapons weren't yer friends. That ye dinna have a real feel fer them."
The human prince felt his face grow hot. Had he so greatly disappointed Aerin?
"An, being the sharp lassie that she is… was… Aerin knew a born warrior when she saw one. And one that wasna born tae it."
The king took a bite of a crisp apple and chewed, watching Anduin's reaction. The boy put down his knife and fork and simply waited to hear what Magni had to say. Something kind but dismissive, no doubt. Something to make it sound like Anduin hadn't disappointed him.
"I've also been talking wi' Rohan," Magni continued. "If ye can get past his terrible jokes, th' fellow has a lot of wisdom. He couldna say enough about ye—how ye seemed tae thrive whenever ye visited. How ye felt compelled tae go to the aid of those who'd been harmed. How ye worked long past the time when ye should have dropped from exhaustion." He took another long pull on the tankard, then set it down and turned to face Anduin with his whole body. "Lad… have ye ever considered that ye just might not be cut out fer the life of a warrior? And that there's summat else that might be just exactly what ye're supposed to be doing?"
Anduin stared down at his plate. Given what Aerin had told him about how Magni wished that he had had a son, not a daughter, he wasn't sure how criticism of his father would be received. Finally he just spoke simply and truthfully. "Father wishes me to be a warrior," he said. "I've always known that in his heart, that's what he wants for me."
Magni placed his hand on Anduin's shoulder. "Och, he might want that, right enough, because it's what he is. But yer father is a good man. In the end, he'll want ye to do what's right for ye, and fer the kingdom. There's no shame in healing, lad, in loving th' Light, in inspiring people and giving them hope. None at all. That's looking out fer the good o' yer kingdom just as much as fighting for it is."
Anduin felt a shiver run through him, but it was not unpleasant. Far from it; it was a shudder almost of… knowing. And it left in its wake a strange calmness and contentment. A priest. Someone who worked with the Light to do its work to heal, not harm, someone who inspired others by clearing their heads and asking them to give their best, rather than inflaming their darker emotions. He thought about the peace that always bathed him any time he entered the cathedral or the Mystic Ward here in Ironforge. A longing seized his soul for more of that. It felt almost like coming home to hear the dwarven king speak so. He looked at Magni, his eyes searching those of this powerful warrior and great king.
"Do… do you really believe that?"
"Aye, I do. And while we'll find another arms trainer fer ye, I'd be right pleased tae see ye start talking seriously wi' High Priest Rohan."
Anduin didn't want another arms trainer. He wanted Aerin, cheerful and pragmatic and blunt. But he nodded. "I will, sir."
"Good!" They finished their meal, chatting quietly, and when the last grape had been popped into Anduin's mouth and the last drop of ale had been consumed by Magni, the dwarf patted his belly and smiled at the human prince. "Now, then, we should both get some sleep. But afore then, I've got summat fer ye."
He slid out of the chair and trundled over to an old chest. Anduin followed, curious. The chest groaned in protest as Magni lifted the lid. Inside were several cloth - covered items whose shapes led Anduin to believe they were weapons. Magni selected one and lifted it out, carefully unwrapping it.
It was indeed a weapon, a mace, gleaming as bright as the day it was made although it had to be quite old. The head was silver, wrapped in intersecting bands of gold that had runes etched into it. Small gems dotted it here and there. It was altogether a lovely and graceful thing of beauty and power.
"This," said Magni reverently, "is Fearbreaker. It is an old weapon, Anduin. Several hundred years. This was handed down through the Bronzebeard line. It's seen battles in Outland and here in Azeroth. It's known th' taste o' blood, and in certain hands, has been known tae also stanch blood. Here, take it. Hold it in yer hand. Let's see if it likes ye." Magni winked.
More than a little intimidated—the weapon was large for one so slight as he to wield—Anduin extended a hand and grasped the shaft of the mace. At once he felt a cool calmness spread from the weapon to his hand, and from there throughout his whole body. He found himself inhaling and letting the breath out as a sigh, found his body—tense for so long from effort and pain both emotional and physical—relaxing. Uncertainly and worry were not banished, not quite, but they receded through Fearbreaker's touch of metal against skin.
Just as he opened his mouth to comment on the sensation, he could have sworn the weapon… glowed, slightly.
"As I suspected," Magni said. "It does like ye."
"It's… alive?"
"Nay, nay, but, lad, ye know as well as I, as well as anyone who wields a weapon—they have their likes an' their dislikes, same as people. They can be persnickety at times. I thought ye and Fearbreaker might be a good match. 'Tis yers."
Anduin gaped. "I—I couldn't possibly—"
"Oh, aye, ye can, an' ye will. Fearbreaker has sat here fer some time now, waiting fer the right hand tae wield it. Ye may not be an armsman like yer father, but ye can fight the good fight. Fearbreaker proves it. Go on, lad. If ever a thing was meant fer someone, that weapon was meant fer ye."
Anduin blinked. He teared up quickly these days, but somehow, holding the beautifully wrought mace, he was not ashamed of the quick emotion as he had been. Fearbreaker. That was what Rohan had done for him when he had panicked—broken his fear. Called forth his best. "Thank you. I will treasure this."
"O' course ye will. Now, off tae bed wi' ye, lad. I've got a few last - minute things tae prepare, and then I'm tae bed meself. Got tae have a good night's sleep if one is tae have long conversations with one's world, eh?"