Babel's Magic-Khadgar FanFic

Equilibrium Amongst Factions

Dawdling as fast as their pint sized legs could take them, it took some hailing for the war worn dwarf to hail the King's attention, "Aye! I said Lothar but stop and listen!"

A quick pivot and Lothar looked down at his dwarven friend knelt over catching his breath, "That's King to you Bronzebeard huh?"

Giving him a disgruntled look only before for the dwarf sucked in a deep breath and regained his composure, "I say then King, what's with this meeting in the first place? Ye' ain't looking at the schedules anymore?"

"Hah-" Scoffing at his short friend the King whisked himself away. Purposely keeping a longer stride to make his comrade hustle, "You were ever one for schedules then dwarf?"

"Hold yer tongue I whipped your butt in plenty of fights before ye' were King Lothar," Bronzebeard pressed on, wise to his old friend's tricks and flaunting of his longer stride, the dwarf had no issue keeping pace with the King as they advanced towards the room where all major discussions had held dominion over in the past, "There be some circulation by the hill dwellers that a gryphon be shot down by dem uncivilized trolls in the mountains, this anything to do with it Sir King?"

Passing a look down to him, Lothar held his tongue momentarily. Down the hall it seemed the door to the room grew larger much quicker than Lothar was ready for. Behind it's study frame would be the dignitaries from all races of Azeroth ready to tear him apart for harboring not only a fugitive of the Legion but taking so long to put out the notice of Athrikus's infiltration so close to the heart of the Alliance.

"Aye boy, what's rattlin around in that head of yours huh?" Bronzebeard's gruff tone brought Lothar back to the present.

"What- Huh," Shaking his head the King blinked those tell tale green eyes and stopped, "Bronzebeard, you've been my friend in and out of battle, have you not?"

"Aye I have, you hold the heart of a dwarf with just as much tolerance for our meads," Big nose overshadowing the grin that grew on the male's face offered Lothar little assurance when he responded.

"Was I a wrong pick to take Llane's place at this throne room?" spouting without second thoughts, Lothar struggling to not seek insight on the situation. Who was there to offer a level headed answer though. The longer he thought about it, the more irrational Lothar felt coming before the other races with such a request.

Clapping his broad, calloused hand onto his counterparts forearm. The worn dwarf only spared a heartfelt smile, "There is no one as qualified as ye' dear Lothar."

Bronzebeard's pep sat well with Lothar but by this time they'd reached the door. Waltzing right in Lothar watched the dwarf take his place amongst the other races in the circular room. Camaraderie from the dwarves. Low burbling from the elves. Humans from assorted regions far and wide swapping stories from garrisons and homes. Before him stood the epicenter of Azeroth's future at the hands of all those who lived in it.

History, wars and alliances, all had been formed or sought after in this very room by men ten times as great as Lothar could ever hope to become. Stepping in sent a silencing murmur through the groups of races before the King. Pointed ears, dwarven faces, pigments surpassing any human skin tone like purples and pale pinks, all faces turned to behold Stormwind's King enter the meeting finally.

"King Lothar, glad of you to join us," One of the high elves, silver white hair hanging past their breast plates and eyebrows as iridescent to match, let his pupil-less eyes settle on the man.

"Mind tellin us what ye' think your doing at such a short notice aye King?" Beside Bronzebeard, who'd taken a seat promptly after coming in prior to Lothar, another war worn dwarf male piped up with a slight tap of his closed fist on the table to emphasize his point.