Chapter Text
Bolvar was three days into his retirement and wondering what the fuck he was supposed to do with his life now that he was back to being a civilian when the call came.
He didn’t quite believe what was said to him at first, first of all because it was absolutely insane, but also because he hadn’t had any contact with Varian since, well, The Breakup.
Not that Varian would ever call it that. Nor Bolvar – no, he’d choose more violent words. It had been like a torpedo going straight through his life and taking chunks off as it passed, while he desperately tried to brace for the impact and survive when everything left got up in flames.
It wasn’t happy times, and he made sure not to ever dwell on it. Alas, that call made everything suddenly less blurry than Bolvar had forced himself to make. Plus the call informed him of several facts that he would have preferred not to be aware of and were all more horrible than the last.
First, Varian was missing in action.
Second, Varian had gotten married.
Third, he had a child with his wife, and had named him the god-father somehow, for reasons that Bolvar couldn’t pierce.
His head was spinning by the time the woman – a lawyer of some kind, he wasn’t even sure – was done informing him of everything and arranging a meeting for the next week. He put his phone down, blinked at the black screen of his television, and decided to drink his problems away for now.
***
The meeting had been set up in some nice little restaurant in Stormwind’s Old Town. Bolvar still couldn’t quite believe all of this wasn’t some kind of very elaborate and fucked up prank as he sat in front of a very serious looking woman in a suit and another, younger and prettier one who was trying not to stare at him.
She had blue eyes, and it squeezed Bolvar’s heart uncomfortably. Varian truly had a type, it seemed.
There was no child at the meeting, but Bolvar guessed they couldn’t have been very old. It had been slightly less than three years since the very last time he had made the mistake of seeing Varian and hoping things would end differently. How fast could two people get married and have a kid together?
Very fast, it seemed, because soon enough Bolvar had some legal papers under his eyes. The kid was two and a half, which made him slightly nauseous.
Had Varian really moved on so quickly?
He met the wife’s eyes, and saw in hers that she knew about him and Varian. Probably not the whole story, he doubted she would be fine with seeing him otherwise, but at least that they had been intimate.
In love, some might say, but not Varian. Never that, at least never to Bolvar’s face.
He looked back down at the papers, that had turned blurry. How long had this thing with Varian lasted? Over a decade, at least. Long enough that he had forgotten. He blinked, willed the stupid tears in his eyes to go away, and abruptly glanced back up when the suit-wearing woman got up and announced that they should try to talk to get to know each other.
She walked off, and for a second Bolvar just looked at her retreating back as she left the restaurant and stood outside, in plain sight, to take a phone call.
Then he had to turn and face Varian’s wife, and wondered if he hadn’t died on that last mission and this was now his own personal hell.
It made more sense than whatever he had been told during this entire meeting.
Varian’s wife seemed to agree, if the wooden smile she forced his way was any indication.
“This is really weird,” she said with a little, embarrassed laugh.
Even her voice was pretty. Bolvar wished he had gotten a haircut and a better shave, all of the sudden. Not that it mattered, because Varian was missing in fucking action.
It was insensitive, but he couldn’t help asking about that.
“What happened? I mean…”
She tried another smile, more sympathetic this time, and wrapped her hands around her cup of coffee. Her nails were painted black.
“They were patrolling in the South Atlantic when a big storm hit. It was a sea state 8, from what I was told.” Bolvar’s stomach turned into a heavy rock. “The ship…” she swallowed with difficulty, but didn’t look away from him, “the ship was hit pretty badly by the waves, and a part of it got teared off.”
How had he not heard about it?
Or maybe he had, he suddenly remembered. The past few months – past three years, if he was honest with himself – had been a blur, but he definitely remembered hearing about six sailors being presumed dead. He hadn’t checked their names, hadn’t ever thought it possible that Varian would–
He choked on something he didn’t want to call a sob, excused himself and quickly joined the bathroom to throw up everything he had eaten since his dinner from last night, and then dry heave for a while.
***
“You don’t have to get involved with Anduin,” she announced the second he sat back down in front of her.
Bolvar blinked, still half wondering if no vomit had splashed his tshirt.
“Anduin?”
“Our son,” she said, and he suddenly felt extremely stupid and gauche. “I know he put you in all the official papers, but you don’t have to–”
“It’s what he wanted,” he replied, grimacing at how rough his voice sounded and pronouncing those words. It still didn’t feel real – that Varian was lost at sea, presumed dead. “I… Was there a ceremony or…”
“Not yet,” she replied, looking away for a moment. “The investigation is still on going.”
So it was too early to put an empty coffin into the ground, but also the perfect time to read his last wishes and will.
“I would never organize his funerals and not invite you,” she added when the silence had stretched a little too long.
It was a strange thing to say.
“He… he really told you about me?”
She nodded, a real smile breaking over her smile.
“He probably said too much, and it should have scared me, but I just liked that he was being honest and open with me. I did get jealous a time or two, but it never lasted.”
Bolvar wasn’t sure how to take that information, so he decided to put it in the little box with Varian’s name on it that permanently lived in his chest and mind, and moved right along.
“And I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”
“Tiffin,” she said, holding her hand out like it was the most normal thing in the world.
He shook it, feeling worse by the second. Her hand was very small and soft and manicured in his rough one. This was what Varian had chosen to build his life with, a petite blond woman who managed to smile in the face of a man who was still painfully in love with her dead husband.
God, no wonder Varian had tied the knot so fast. She seemed great. Bolvar couldn’t even hate her.
“I know this is weird,” she said when he finally let go of her and put his hands firmly under the table on his knees, where she couldn’t see him twist his fingers in sudden anxiousness. “I wish I hadn’t sprung all of this on you like that, but the clerk insisted and–”
“It’s fine,” he lied, and she smiled at him with enough sympathy that it made his heart hurt.
***
In the end Tiffin mostly talked while he tried not to vomit once more. He didn’t have anything else to throw up anyway, but his stomach didn’t seem aware. It kept constricting and clenching, while his heart clawed its way up his throat.
They stood in front of the restaurant to say their goodbyes, and it should have been more awkward than it was when Tiffin stepped closer and quickly hugged him. They had made plans to see each other again, this time with Anduin, who was Varian’s son, and Bolvar knew there was no way he would ever be prepared for that, but it wasn’t like he had a choice anyway.
“Thank you for meeting me,” said Tiffin, quickly squeezing his hand with one last smile.
And Bolvar stayed right where he was while she walked down the street with the attorney. Then, as she disappeared from his sight, he turned his eyes up, towards the bright blue sky, and couldn’t help the hysterical laugh.
He laughed so hard that he cried and people started sending him weird glances, so he joined his car, sat behind the wheel, and let his tears transform into a strange mix of panicked and desperate ones.
Varian was dead.