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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | Colson, Cressidha, and Mordecai spend most of a day in the Aspenwood Stormwind Townhouse, discussing what it means to be seen and loved, the need to sometimes outsource your guilty conscience, and the best way to acquire new boots in time for resuming upcoming squad activities. The Colson happiness meter is maxed. 13k words |
| Rating: | M for Mature 17+ |
Chain: Morson
In the Aspenwood Stormwind Townhouse, early Friday morning.
Colson comes downstairs, brushing a hand back through his hair. He makes his way quietly through the entryway to the informal sitting room, smiling gently when he catches sight of Cressidha. "Good morning," he says as he gets closer.
Cressidha is seated in her usual seat at the table with one of her sketchbooks, and Oswald has sat down on top of it, probably to make a point. She is petting her cat, because what else is one to do in that situation? "Good morning, Colson."
Colson sits gracefully, leaning back in the chair more than usual, as he looks at Oswald. "Working on a new design?" Colson asks, his lips twitching in amusement. Is Colson asking Cress or Oswald the question? Impossible to say.
"At some point I was, yes." Cressidha ruffles Oswald's fur. "I'm thinking boots, to match my new dress." There's only one dress she can possibly be talking about.
Oswald goes, "Mrrrp."
Colson's eyebrows raise in interest. "Excellent. Are you still gathering materials for it, or do you have sufficient and now it is merely putting them into a form that will suit your preferences?"
"I'm afraid I'll need quite a bit more primal water." Cressidha sighs. "At the rate I've been obtaining it, I only have enough to keep up with my mooncloth-enchanting days."
"Hm." Colson sets his right hand on the table and there's a slight movement of his right shoulder, almost a shrug. "Well, Nagrand may have its troubles with the elementals, but it is also true that it has a wealth of the resource. Perhaps Mordecai and I could." There's a flicker of pain and guilt over Colson's face as he pauses. His hand twitching on the table almost imperceptibly. "That is. Hm." Colson stops there, looking down at his hand.
Cressidha leans forward in her chair and rests a hand on top of Colson's. "The two of you don't need to delay your house-hunting on my behalf, but should you feel like a change of pace, I would always welcome the materials."
As Cressidha lifts her other hand away from her cat as well, Oswald reaches out with two paws, grabs her hand, and puts it back on his head. Excuse you. How dare you stop the pets. Resume.
Colson relaxes slightly at the touch, raising his eyes back to Cressidha, a hint of a smile covering some of the expression. "Perhaps it would be best to avoid the field for…" Colson looks away and exhales slowly. "Or I can always gather it during the week while Mordecai is in Shattrath." Colson does not look like this is a desirable outcome.
Cressidha squints at her brother. "Have field excursions been going poorly?"
"No, Mordecai has been doing very well. Despite the…inherent difficulties of what the Company occasionally deals with, he very much enjoyed working in the field with the others." There's the slightest stress on 'the others.' "I have been able to manage my own…well." Colson trails off. Cressidha knows. The panic things. "I simply cannot be like, well. I had not realized that Mordecai might…" Colson looks down at the table, his jaw working slightly. "I don't know."
"Finish your sentences, Colson," Cressidha says, smiling, in exactly the tone one might say 'finish your vegetables'.
Colson's lips move in a half-smile, although his eyes look like he's in pain. "He says he does not mind how formal I am in the field. But, there is a world of difference between not minding something and having a preference for something else. And I keep thinking, that perhaps if I could only be…not like how I am. I would suit his preference more. And yes, I know, I could ask him. But, I fear the answer if it is not…in the negative." Colson sounds genuinely upset with a tightness in his diction.
Cressidha gives him a look. "You've been married for nearly five months now and you're worried about not suiting his preferences? Really, Colson?"
Colson returns the look. "There is a difference between suiting his preference in a partner and…a commander in the field. We have been working together for months and…you should have seen him after that first time out with the Company, Cressidha. He was so happy, to realize that there would be no…formality. And all I could think was how of course he had not expected it. He had only been with me in the field, and I am not." Colson looks up and away, exhaling slowly. "I am what I am like."
"He seemed fine enough, the times I fought with him. Hm." There's a pause while Cressidha actually thinks about this. After spending an appropriate amount of time actually taking Colson's concerns seriously instead of immediately dismissing them offhand, Cressidha shakes her head. "He didn't seem unhappy. Just focused."
"It is not that he does not enjoy spending time with me. He has made that very clear," Colson says and there's earnest relief in his face. "It is only that thought that perhaps I could make him happier if I could only…turn it off, or…be more like the others. More like." Colson halts and the slightest form of the sound B — reveals he was going to say 'Bertrand.' He closes his eyes for a second.
Cressidha pats Colson's hand again. "Hm. And you're afraid to ask him."
"Because if he says yes, honestly, he would be even more comfortable with me if I could simply be less…formal, I don't know how I…" Colson shakes his head. "Light, Cressidha, I would walk through a pit of spiders with a shield made of grubs to make him happy, but this is not something I can will into happening. I have tried before. It always feels like an act, a lie, and that all I am doing is mimicking another. Can you even imagine me saying, 'come along you lot, let's git it done'?" Colson's pass at Dane's accent is laughable, as is his overly enunciated attempt at the phrasing.
Cressidha bursts out laughing at 'walk through a pit of spiders', covers her mouth with her cat-petting hand (Oswald meows in protest), and gets her laughter under control just in time to laugh again at his imitation of Dane.
Colson smiles in return, his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges.
Oswald stands up on Cressidha's sketchbook and pads over to where the twins' hands rest on the table, then headbutts their linked hands.
Colson offers his left hand out to Oswald, knuckles first, a perfect place to aggressively rub a cat's face against.
Oswald smooshes his face against Colson's hand, purring.
Colson scritches along Oswald's cheeks and chin gently, looking at Oswald with soft, sad eyes that do not seem to be honestly directed at the cat so much as an inner thought.
"Mordecai doesn't need you to be someone else, Colson." Cressidha gestures up, vaguely, towards the second floor where Mordecai probably is. "I don't even think he would want you to be. That was particularly uncanny. 'Let's git it done'?" Cressidha's imitation of Dane's accent is even worse.
Colson laughs quietly, shrugging his right shoulder as he looks at Cressidha. "I know he does not need me to be anything other than what I am, for himself. But, we do not need to be in the field, either. If I simply avoid it, perhaps I can avoid wondering 'what if this would be better, if only I was not making this more like the army.'" Colson's disappointment at this thought is obvious on his face, and in his voice.
"Since when do you do that?" Cressidha brushes cat hair off of her sketchbook.
Colson smiles gently as he pets Oswald, luring him further away from the sketchbook. "Every time I am in the field. I can…dim it, slightly. It gets difficult though, particularly when I take point. Habit and what I learned how to do take over."
Cressidha looks skeptical. "If anyone's making things more like the army, it's Mordecai, from what I've seen."
"It is what he's known, and I suspect that you have seen it more because he is responding to how I act. He is far more adaptable than I, though, and with time and a different…commander, I suspect he will blend in with the others."
Cressidha shakes her head. "He was still doing it in Zul'gurub. The… counting, the constant shield maintenance, the - ward against fear, I think?"
Colson nods, and the pain on his face increases. "The counting is for himself, for safety purposes. The shield and the ward." Colson exhales sharply through his nose as the skin around his eyes tightens. "That is for me. I cannot be there with him if he does not. I become a liability, even more than I already am."
Cressidha shakes her head. "He did it on our ride to Light's Hope Chapel together, too."
Colson shrugs his right shoulder. "I have told him that it is easier for me if he remains shielded, and warded. And he does not find it a strain to do so. But, if he considered it what he should be doing, it is because of me." Colson swallows hard. "That is what I mean. How much I have given him the impression of something entirely different from the casual way the Company is run."
"I'm supposed to keep my ice barrier up at all times, and even I don't catch it on the very second it's timing out like he does." Cressidha shakes her head. "It's just good habits."
"He's incredible," Colson says, with deep sincerity. "Truly. I have worked with priests before, and not a single one was able to do exactly as he does, throughout anything. His sense for numbers and time is remarkable, particularly under stress."
Cressidha nods. "It must have taken him years of prac – " Cressidha's mouth snaps shut mid-word. She clears her throat. " – training, to get to that point."
There's a brief flicker around Colson's eyes at the start of the word that smooths out as Cress changes mid-sentence. "He seems to think it's simple. Even when he has maintained shields for more, in perfect timing. His precision is part of what makes him a wonderful field companion."
"Do you want me to ask him?" Cressidha offers, closing her sketchbook.
Colson's hand moves slightly, and then there's a sound very much like a single 'ha' of a laugh. "I remember offering once to ask him what you wanted to know, but felt you could not ask." He smiles fondly. "But, no. I fear the answer, not the asking."
"Then maybe you should get it over with," Cressidha says, shaking her head. "Personally, I don't think the spider pit will be necessary."
Colson makes a 'hm' sort of sound. "Well, I will not rule it out entirely yet. Perhaps he would be extraordinarily pleased by a robe that can only be made from one particular spider's silk."
"Well, if he does want one, let me know," Cressidha says, dryly. "Now, go on. Either you stop worrying or you go talk to your husband about it."
Colson smiles faintly, and stops petting the cat for a moment to pull out his pocket watch to check the time. "Well. He will not be conscious enough for a conversation for at least another hour. Perhaps, two," Colson says in a warm, affectionate voice.
Oswald makes a noise of protest.
Colson sets the watch back, and looks at Cress for a moment. He opens his mouth to say something, and then makes a 'hmmmmm' sound. "Well. Actually, if I may ask for your…opinion on something?"
Colson, predictably, resumes petting the cat.
Cressidha shakes her head, smiling a little. "Of course. What is it?"
Colson clears his throat slightly, and regards Oswald with a disproportionate amount of seriousness. "And, bear in mind I am well aware that you would, perhaps, be biased in this consideration. But, I feel you may also be the only one able to understand precisely why." Colson halts and sighs softly. "Do you believe, in true sincerity, that I am…excessively critical of myself?" Colson asks it in such a way that his opinion on the matter is obvious. Of course he isn't.
"Well, yes," Cressidha says, looking at Colson like it should be obvious. Of course he is.
Colson makes a sound of a genteel sort of groan as his head drops ever so slightly. "I know that I hold myself to high standards, but it is not without reason. I took vows to uphold the honor and codes of the Silver Hand. And you know how anything we do, anything I do, reflects back on the family name. Now, there is even the Company, as I am a face for the public to know what sort of leadership is in place. I cannot be…lax in any of those regards."
Cressidha pat pat pats Colson's hand and says, "No, you've always been like that. Finding ways to make things that obviously aren't your fault into your fault because you failed to stop them from happening. Remember when Colin Varley broke his arm?"
Colson brushes his left hand along Oswald's head and shoulders, as his right hand moves on the table fractionally. "Yes. And I maintain that if I had made a different choice, he would not have broken the arm." It's clear he believes it.
"I was there too." Cressidha crosses her arms over her chest.
Colson opens his mouth to say something that looks like a disagreement, and then sighs as he looks at Cress. "You already know what I will say." There's a twitch of a smile on his face.
Cressidha smiles back. "And you've already thought of at least two reasons why it was somehow more your fault than mine, haven't you?"
Colson makes a 'hmph' sort of sound. His face says 'yes.' "Well. Even so. The expectations I aspire to rise to have only grown since then, not lessened."
"So you're saying you're even more critical of yourself."
Colson opens his mouth to protest this, and then shuts it firmly because he isn't going to lie. "Ah. Well." Colson taps his right hand slightly on the table. "Perhaps. By necessity."
"You did ask, Colson."
"I know." Colson closes his eyes briefly, and opens them again to stare at Oswald. "I have been thinking on it since Mordecai mentioned it. It's the first thing I have truly disagreed with him on, but if you believe it to be true as well, then perhaps it is I who is wrong. And if that is so, then I…I do not know what to do. I have always felt certain of my intentions, that I am correcting mistakes appropriately."
Cressidha taps her fingers against the cover of her sketchbook. "Hm. I've always been fairly critical of myself, too, so I'm not certain I'm the best one to ask for a solution."
Colson's right hand moves closer to Cressidha. "I know that drive of yours competes at times with a certain perfectionism, but you so rarely ever make a mistake at all. I do so far more frequently." The unsaid, 'and therefore I deserve the criticism' is obvious.
Cressidha sets her left hand within hand-touching distance again. "Or perhaps I advertise my mistakes less."
Colson takes her hand gently. "Mine are rarely ones I can hide. The ones I do…" Colson looks down at his left shoulder. "When someone believes they are getting a perfect paladin, or a perfect noble, it helps to let them know what to truly expect." Colson smiles faintly, as he looks back to Cressidha. "I have made many mistakes, some of which have left people dead who might otherwise be alive."
"You would rather be seen as you are than as how you could be. I know."
Colson smiles wider, as he inclines his head. "Yes." Colson tilts his head slightly. "But whether or not another ever knows of my mistakes, it does not change the fact that I make them, and who will hold me accountable for them, or improving, if not myself?"
"I'm not saying not to do that for mistakes that are actually yours to claim." Cressidha looks thoughtful. "But perhaps if someone says something isn't your fault, you might try and believe them?"
Colson sighs and gestures with his left hand to Oswald. "Are you advising me to outsource my criticism until such a time as I can be trusted to do so myself?" Colson asks, an undercurrent of amusement mixed with guilt in his voice. Always guilt.
Cressidha looks down at the cat. "Don't outsource it to him, he believes I never feed him."
Colson chuckles, and resumes petting the cat.
Oswald has become a content kitty puddle on the table.
"Mordecai would do so, if I asked. I am not certain though that his affection for me would not make him more likely to be…less critical than necessary." Which is Colson for 'what if he says something isn't my fault when clearly, somehow, it is.'
Cressidha gives her brother a Look. "He seems like an honest young man. If he doesn't perceive something to be your fault, it probably isn't."
"He never lies to me," Colson says, his voice soft. "That does not mean he is not heavily biased in my favor. Still," Colson shakes his head slightly. "I suspect he would be pleased if I did…change. This way."
"He never lies to you?" Cressidha looks up at the second floor, then back at Colson. "That's sweet."
Colson's face goes very soft, and he grins for a moment. "He is, yes. He knows I do not read him well yet, although I have improved. He tells me what he's thinking, or feeling, when I would otherwise need to read if off his face. Even when I am certain he would rather not say it. But he does not lie to me, even that way, by simply staying quiet so that I cannot tell."
Cressidha smiles. "He actually talks to you. All the time. He seems like a very different person than the Mordecai I first met."
Colson's expression brightens noticeably, and there's a faint blush across his cheekbones. "I think I make him happy," he says, as though it's not super obvious that he does.
"Well, I should think so, yes." Cressidha sounds faintly amused.
Colson gives Oswald another scritch-scratch around his face. "I do hope it has been pleasant having him as a brother-in-law," Colson says in a soft voice. "I know the past still lingers, in expectations, but…well. I do like seeing you two getting on well with each other."
"Pleasant enough," Cressidha concedes. She has to actively search around for a compliment for Mordecai. "He makes you happy. That's what matters to me." Is that a compliment? Close enough.
Colson makes a soft 'hm' sound, as he moves to gently reach up with his right hand to tap Cress' nose. "He does, yes. He is very good company, truly."
Cressidha laughs quietly. "The quality of the desserts around here has gone up significantly since he moved in."
Oswald, out of nowhere, does the thing cats do when they've decided they're done being petted: he just walks away, leaping gracefully down from the table and padding over to his bowl of dry food, which is not empty. "Mrow."
Colson grins again, looking briefly very young. "Indeed. You know, you would be welcome to join us, if you would ever like to learn something. You would have an advantage, as I understand, with 'laminated dough.'" Colson says this like it's something Arcane.
"That sounds messy." Cressidha glances at the kitchen. "I'll think about it."
Oswald makes some noises of complaint about this empty bowl of food. (The bowl of food is not empty.)
Colson laughs briefly, and nods, blushing for some reason. "It can be, yes." He sighs as he looks at Oswald. "Oh dear, it looks like it's true. You never feed him, Cressidha?" Colson asks in mock seriousness, his eyes dancing with laughter.
Cressidha stands up so she can see over the table better. "There's still food left, Oswald!" She sits down again with a heavy sigh.
Colson sets his right hand down on the table, covering it with his left, the amusement fading slowly from him. "Are you ready for the work to resume? I believe Captain Jocoza has reassigned us together."
"I am." Cressidha makes an effort to ignore her cat batting bits of dry food out of the bowl to eat off of the floor. "Has she? That's good news."
“I am not entirely certain, as I have not yet received the full orders, but I believe so." Colson leans forward slightly. "I…have had word that Sir Gavynn has returned to the Plaguelands, and I do not believe that we will be working with him any longer in Outland."
"Ah." Cressidha doesn't look surprised. "There's a lot to be done there."
"Yes," Colson agrees quickly. "Although, perhaps things will improve with the necropolis gone." Paladin optimism at its finest.
"Jo didn't tell you anything else about the squad assignments yet?"
Colson shakes his head. "Not as yet, no. I assume by Saturday that she will send the usual assignment orders. Or, perhaps Sir Ference will. I am not entirely certain who is now responsible for the task, or if they share it."
Cressidha nods. "I suppose I must be patient, then," she says impatiently.
Colson chuckles. "Are you hoping for any particular group? Or do you simply wish to know what to expect?"
Cressidha thinks about this. "I suppose I just enjoy knowing. I do miss being in a squad with Sandy, a little."
Colson makes an amused 'hm' sound. "There is not quite anyone else like him in the squads, is there? I am fond of him, although I confess, as someone who can at least temporarily make him functionally immortal and incapable of doing anything physical for at least 10 seconds, perhaps I find him easier to be with than some. I can almost always stop him from his wilder impulses, and he has a good heart, recklessness aside."
Cressidha smiles. "He just has a way of… finding a bright side to things in unexpected ways."
Colson inclines his head in clear agreement. "Sil tries to see the bright side of things as well, although I believe Sandy has the true level of….unexpected, as you say. I have enjoyed working with both of them. And neither seem to mind that I am…well." Colson moves his head in a vague gesture of neither a nod or a shake, in implication of the Neutral Seriousness.
"Hm. Beyond that, I don't know that I have any preferences. I suppose it would be nice to get to work with another mage in the same squad, but I know that the five-person squads are more limited and need to cover a larger variety of roles…"
Colson makes an affirmative sound. "Sir Ference, in the Plaguelands, was the first time I had worked with another paladin that closely for more than a single assignment since, well. Since Lordaeron. We were always spread out, in the Alliance, as a resource. In such a limited team, well. I expect they avoid it for the same reasons. Although, Mr. Fauntleroy worked with us several times in recent efforts. I don't suppose he intends on joining the Company?"
"Gerhold? Is he not part of the Company…?" Cressidha scratches her cheek. Apparently she has no idea.
"He is not an official employee, as far as I can tell. A consultant, I believe?" Colson shrugs his right shoulder.
"Ah. I don't know why I assumed."
"Hm," Colson says, and then in an attempt of casualness that would not fool anyone who knew him, "You are not especially close to Mr. Fauntleroy?"
"No, not particularly." Cressidha shakes her head, giving Colson the raised eyebrow of 'what?'
"Ah, well." Colson shifts slightly in his chair. "I suspect Mr. Fauntleroy would rather…improve the acquaintance." Which is Colson, apparently, for 'make a move.' "If you were interested in doing so."
Cressidha laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. She focuses in on Colson, narrowing her eyes. "Wait, you're serious."
Colson's expression says 'yup, sure am.' He brushes his right hand along his left slightly. "Is it a lack of interest in the man himself, or in…well. A man?" Colson asks, his voice gentle.
Cressidha holds up a hand. "One moment, I need to go through every interaction I've had with Gerhold." She closes her eyes.
Colson doesn't seem to think this an odd request, as he waits patiently.
Minutes pass. Apparently this requires some serious processing time.
Oswald finishes eating and leaves the room.
Colson remains sitting quietly, completely undisturbed by this, with an aura that suggests he could possibly wait until the end of time itself.
Whatever Cressidha has just been doing, she still sounds puzzled when she asks, "What precisely gave you that idea? Did he express some sort of interest in your presence?"
Colson clears his throat. "It is in his manner with you, most clearly that day after…" Colson trails off. You know. Dying. "In Honor Hold. But, it is evident in the way he speaks to you, and speaks of you. That, and I have never seen him without your cloak on his shoulders when he has reason to believe you will be there to see it. And he does not strike me as a man who wears the same thing twice without purpose."
"Hm." Cressidha shrugs. "Very well, I shall take your word for it. As to your question… I suppose I don't know."
"Ah," Colson says. "Has there been…interest in others? On your side?" Colson turns his right hand palm up in an elegant gesture of his wrist as though to suggest she doesn't have to answer.
"I admit I had no interest whatsoever in Mordecai. I suppose both men and women have the… potential to be interesting?" Cressidha sounds uncertain.
Colson makes a soft sort of 'hm' sound. "I was certain of men, at least, for me. Women…seemed fine in theory, if not any in actual practice. I understand," he says in a gentle voice. "If it is still something you do not know. You do have the freedom now to do as you wish with what you prefer, or not. You know Mother and Father will support your decision, either way, even if you choose not to marry now, without a dowry."
"I truly hadn't expected any interest, without a dowry." Cressidha shakes her head. "I suppose Gerhold isn't exactly boring, simply… I hadn't considered it at all. Hm." She is clearly considering it now.
Colson chuckles, as he reaches out his right hand on the table. "You are incentive enough, for many, I am certain, Cressidha. Whoever you do decide you prefer, I have no doubt will be equally interested. Assuming, of course, you still have no aspirations for royalty," Colson says in a mock-serious voice, his face giving away the amusement.
Cressidha rests a hand on Colson's. "I'm afraid his Majesty is rather young for me, still."
Ordinarily, Mordecai is incredibly quiet in the hallways, but he's sleepy enough that his footsteps are actually audible on the stairs down to the first floor.
"You know, I have heard the King in Gilneas — " Colson breaks off part way through whatever sentence that was going to be as his face lights up, and he turns in his seat, rising to a graceful stand. "Mordecai."
Mordecai makes his way to the kitchen, pushing the kitchen door open with a yawn, then letting it swing shut again as he hears Colson's voice. He moves through the hallway into the sitting room, rubbing at his eyes. He is wearing pajama pants and a sleeveless shirt that is a bit too big for him, and his hair is an uncombed disaster.
Cressidha says politely, "Good morning, Mordecai."
Colson immediately moves in closer, a soft smile on his face. "Good morning," he says, affection easily audible in his voice, as his eyes roam over Mordecai's features as though it's been days since Colson last saw him.
Mordecai mumbles, "'rning." This isn't the shy mumble, it's the sleepy mumble. He takes a step towards Colson and just puts his forehead down on Colson's shoulder immediately.
Colson's expression goes a little softer, almost dreamy, as he pulls Mordecai into an embrace, sighing happily. "Are you hungry, darling? Or did you need something?" Colson asks the questions slowly.
Mordecai wraps both arms around Colson's waist and holds on to the back of Colson's shirt. "Nn-nn."
Cressidha laughs quietly.
Colson seems absolutely content exactly where he is, as he moves his right hand in a sort of slow petting motion down Mordecai's back. "Cressidha and I were speaking of the upcoming squad assignments," which isn't untrue, "Would you care to join us?"
Mordecai makes an indecipherable sleepy noise.
"Is he going to fall asleep standing up?" Cressidha asks curiously, opening her sketchbook.
Colson gently moves his left hand to fish out his pocket watch to check the time. He puts the watch back where it belongs. "No," Colson answers Cress, although some of that confidence might be unfounded. He lowers his voice a little to ask Mordecai, "Love, do you want to go back to bed? It's still early." For Mordecai, anyway. Colson's been up for hours, as per usual.
Mordecai mumbles, "Did I forget the horses?" which is not remotely an answer to that question but probably says a little bit about how awake Mordecai is right now.
Colson pulls Mordecai in slightly closer in what might be a reflex. "No, both are stabled properly. The horses are fine. We remembered."
"Mmm." Mordecai just stays there, leaning heavily into Colson. The odds of him falling asleep like this are not zero.
Cressidha is watching this with absolute delight.
Colson's expression goes fonder, and he looks over his shoulder at Cressidha. "I think he came looking for me," Colson says. "I'm going to take him back upstairs. He's not usually awake this early." Colson turns back to Mordecai. "May I carry you back upstairs?" He asks in a low voice.
"It must be at least eight." Cressidha shakes her head, smiling. "All right."
Mordecai goes, "'lson? 's morning?"
Colson makes a happy sort of sound at his name. "Not yet, if you do not want it to be," Colson says, his voice soft and low enough that it might not carry well beyond Mordecai.
"Control… time?" Mordecai asks in that sleepy-confused voice.
Cressidha covers her mouth to hide a smile.
Colson laughs, a happy delighted sort of sound. "For you, anything. But, no, I mean you do not have to get up yet, if you do not wish. We can go back upstairs for another hour or so."
"'stairs?" Mordecai lifts his head from Colson's shoulder, blinking at the sitting room. His eyes focus on Cressidha, sitting at the sitting room table, and he immediately puts his forehead back down on Colson's shoulder. "Mmhm."
Colson moves his arms slightly. "May I carry you, or would you prefer to walk?" He asks, in a voice that makes no suggestion that he's already asked this.
"'rry?" Mordecai readjusts his hold on Colson, arms draped around his neck now for ease of carrying.
Cressidha is definitely trying not to laugh.
Colson grins, and with almost remarkable ease, bends and lifts Mordecai up into a carry. "Good luck, with the design," Colson says to Cress. "Do let me know how many materials you require when you have finalized it."
"I will," Cressidha says, amused. She flaps a hand towards the door in a 'go on' gesture.
Colson tilts his head closer to Mordecai. "Let's get you back to bed, darling," he says as he makes his way through the townhouse with ease to do just that.
Mordecai makes a content little noise and holds on, his eyes still shut.
==Time Passes==
In Mordecai and Colson’s bedroom.
Colson is still happily entangled with Mordecai, breathing deeply, although clearly still wide awake, his right hand moving idly through the absolute chaos of curls in a way that suggests after so long he's managed to finger comb through them.
Mordecai does, eventually, open his eyes, smiling the moment he sees Colson.
"Good morning," Colson says, smiling faintly back. "Again," he adds, and the smile grows wider in what is obviously delight.
"Hello, beautiful," Mordecai says, pulling Colson a little closer. "It's morning now?"
There's a very faint flush to Colson's cheeks as he nods. "Yes. Morning now," he agrees, leaning in for a morning kiss.
Mordecai kisses Colson back, slow and gentle and very much still waking up, although he looks a little more awake when he pulls away. "Did I go downstairs? Was that real?"
Colson hums happily after the kiss, making a slight 'hmm?' sound, the question taking a moment to land. "Oh," he says. "Yes. Well, I assume, that is. You came downstairs, still rather sleepy, and I carried you back up."
"Oh. Mmhm. Your sister was there." Mordecai rubs at his eyes.
Colson smiles gently. "Yes, Cressidha and I were in the sitting room."
"Mmm. You weren't here. When I woke up. So I went to find you." Mordecai starts trying to sit up, which means untangling his legs from Colson's. "Water, one moment." He reaches for the water bottle on his nightstand.
Colson doesn't do anything to assist the untangling, but he doesn't hamper it either, as he watches Mordecai. "Ah," Colson says. "I hope…you did not seem as though you woke from a nightmare. Was everything alright?"
Mordecai nods, drinks some water, and immediately lies back down, curling up around Colson again. "No nightmare. I just wanted to be where you were."
Colson inhales sharply at the words, a look of almost pained happiness moving across his features before everything in his expression goes soft. "Oh," he says. His heart rate has spiked, despite the deep relaxation of his body language.
Mordecai smiles and reaches up to run his fingers through Colson's hair. "My Colson."
Colson makes a soft, contented sound. "Yes," he agrees, as he closes his eyes for a moment. He opens them in a blink to look from each of Mordecai's eyes. "I spoke to Cressidha, about what you mentioned before, at Toshley's Station. How I am with myself."
Mordecai settles into a lazy, out of rhythm sort of hair petting. "Mmhm?"
Colson moves his head slightly into the touch, a faint smile in his eyes, although he looks fairly serious. "I have been considering what you said, of how I am with myself. I have always believed myself to be fair, and that it is necessary for my station and my calling. However," Colson says and clears his throat gently. "I respect your insight, and so I asked Cressidha for her perspective on the matter. And she shares your view. Thus, as the two people who know me best in all the world are in agreement, and I have nothing but the highest regard for your opinions, I must conclude that I am, in fact, wrong. And that some change is necessary."
Mordecai smiles. "You actually thought about it," he says happily.
Colson smiles gently back. "Of course. You would not have spoken without reason, and it meant I must evaluate it as such, as best I can." Colson's voice is all sincerity, as though not thinking seriously about it would have never occurred to him.
"Would've gotten a lot more done as a chaplain if more people were like you."
Colson chuckles, and leans in closer. "And that brings me to what Cressidha recommended. I have a request of you, Chaplain," Colson says, his voice low and a note of amusement in it.
Mordecai's hand goes still in Colson's hair. It takes him two tries to speak. "Yes?"
Colson's eyes move in a smile enough that this close, very faint crinkling is visible at the edges, although his lips move just slightly. "Both of you called attention to my…tendency to take responsibility for things. This in particular, it seems, an outside perspective is necessary, and I would ask that you speak to me when you believe I am doing so in error. I believe, or at least I hope, that with you in particular, my desire to do as you wish, may make it easier to acclimate to a new thought." Colson's arm around Mordecai tightens slightly. "You can make an order, if you prefer, Chaplain. I will not mind, either way, so long as you tell me when you feel I am in error."
Mordecai, who is making a genuinely valiant effort to follow along, nods slightly. "I can… do that. Of course."
Colson's arm around Mordecai tightens slightly, as Colson exhales slowly, a happy smile moving his lips. "Thank you. I will do my best to further it, to attempt to reconsider my reasons, but I am not certain at all that I know precisely what is the line that I cross, and so I cannot yet stay on the other side of it."
Mordecai smiles back automatically. "Mmhm."
Colson leans in closer, ducking his head slightly to look up through his lashes at Mordecai. "You can always tell me, if you think I am in the wrong. I promise, I will consider what you say. Your opinion of me, and your perspective, matter to me a great deal."
"I will," Mordecai says, barely blinking. "I… um. Yes."
Colson makes a soft sound in reply, relaxing as he traces Mordecai's features with his eyes.
Mordecai looks a little dazed. "For… the record. Apparently."
Colson makes a 'hm?' sound, his brows raising slightly.
Mordecai speaks very slowly. "You… calling me Chaplain. Is very." There's a pause, and Mordecai bites his lip, and eventually he just says, "Distracting."
Colson's flash of a grin he doesn't quite catch in time to make his face look serious lights up his face, his eyes dancing with clear delight. "Oh, is it?" He asks in a voice that suggests that he might very well be aware of this already. "Hm." His attention goes to Mordecai's lips.
"If… you need to actually. Tell me something important. That you want me to pay attention to. I wouldn't recommend it. Next time. I think I caught that, though."
Colson blinks slowly, looking back up to Mordecai's eyes. "Do you want me to repeat it?" He asks in a soft, low voice, and from the way his eyes have gone darker, he might not actually look like he regrets anything about his choices.
"No, I, I caught it. It's fine. Um." Mordecai pulls Colson a little closer. There really isn't a lot of space left to close at this point. "What are we doing today?"
Colson looks incredibly content with the amount of space left between them which might be almost nothing at this point. "Well. We have options. If you wish to look at places to live here, we can. We could make something complicated in the kitchen." Colson shrugs his right shoulder slightly, a half-smile on his face. "We have nowhere we must be, or anything that needs to be done. Not today."
"No rush, then," Mordecai decides, leaning in for a kiss.
Colson makes an affirmative sound as he closes the distance for a deep kiss, hand moving through Mordecai's hair in a gentle grip.
==Time Passes.==
In the casual dining/sitting room of the Stormwind Townhouse.
Colson has already finished eating, and although he doesn't actually put his elbows up on the table to put his head in his hands to watch Mordecai with heart eyes, it's only by technicality.
Mordecai is watching Oswald, who sits by his partially-full dish of dry food, waiting expectantly.
Colson seems in no hurry at all, as he relaxes in his seat, waiting to see if Mordecai will charm the Smol Furry Creature once again from his insistence that he has never been fed, there is no food here, pls sirs.
Oswald dips a paw into the dish and knocks some food onto the floor, then eats it. Mordecai frowns, leaning sideways in his chair towards the cat.
At the frown, Colson turns his attention from Mordecai to Oswald. He raises a single Aspenwood brow at the cat, and turns back to Mordecai. "Cressidha never feeds him, apparently," Colson says in a dry voice. "Except for all the times she does, of course."
"Whisker fatigue," Mordecai says suddenly, and gets to his feet. "He needs a flatter dish to eat out of."
Colson's brows raise at this, and he turns in his seat. "Oh? What is that, 'whisker fatigue'?"
"It's… cats have sensation in their whiskers, they can feel them touch things. Having to feel the sides of the bowl every time makes eating out of the bowl less appealing."
Colson makes a 'hm' sound, and nods. "Alright. I will leave a message for Cressidha, for when she returns. Is there anything else she should know, or get? Beyond more shallow bowls?"
Mordecai shrugs. "Honestly, a plate would work for the dry food, and a shallower bowl for the water."
Colson nods again, and reaches for the bright pumpkin bag for a pencil and his notebook, turning to the back to tear a sheet from it, writing a note slowly and carefully to Cressidha with the information.
Mordecai leans a hand on the back of Colson's chair and another hand on the table, looking over his shoulder as he writes.
Colson writes out a brief explanation of the cause of Oswald's behavior as Mordecai described it, attributes the recognition and recommendation for changes to Mordecai, and specifies the water and food dish alterations.
Mordecai smiles down at Colson as he reads.
"Thank you," Colson says, as he finishes the note, smiling softly up at Mordecai. Colson's handwriting to Cressidha does not look like his report writing, with more flourishes than his usual Clear, Prosaic report writing.
Mordecai points to himself, tilting his head. "What for?"
Colson returns the pencil and notebook to his bag, and rises in a single smooth graceful motion, picking up the note as he looks at Mordecai with a soft expression. "For noticing, and telling me. Cressidha will be grateful to know how to help Oswald be more comfortable."
Mordecai backs up to give Colson space to stand. "Oh." Mordecai holds a hand out to him. "She already left?"
Colson takes Mordecai's hand, bringing it up to his lips for a brief kiss. "Yes. She is in the process of refining a design for boots to match her masterwork dress. She needs more supplies, and more resources. Some of the base cloth she can buy, but the primal water and shadow in particular require someone to acquire the materials from Outland." Colson's expression flickers, but he looks at Mordecai with a mild expression. "Do you want anything from the market?"
"In Shattrath?" Mordecai assumes. He shakes his head. "I don't need anything. She's making Shadowcloth boots?"
"Yes, to match the dress, once she finishes her design for herself." Colson makes an elegant gesture in the vague direction of the Stormwind market places. "We do not have to go to Shattrath, today, if you wanted something?"
Mordecai stares off into the distance, his lips moving silently, as he counts things off on his fingers. Then he shakes his head. "No, we have everything."
Mordecai looks back at Colson with a shy little smile and offers, "We could pick up more elemental water for your sister?"
Colson's expression flickers again, the skin around his eyes tightening and his mouth moving slightly in a pressing of his lips, before he drops his eyes to their hands. "Ah, well. Mm." Colson exhales slowly, idly folding the note in his other hand.
Mordecai runs his thumb back and forth over Colson's knuckles and asks, "You don't want to?"
Colson tightens his grip slightly on Mordecai's hand, and swallows hard. "Of course I want to," he says gently. "I…that is. It is only that, I know that with all sincerity that you are pleased to spend time with me, but…you do know that it does not have to be in the field when I would be the only…" Colson trails off with a sigh. "We can do other things, together. There is no obligation." Colson keeps his gaze on their hands.
"Obligation? I-I just thought it would be nice." Mordecai wilts a little, looking down.
Colson's expression crumples as he sets the note back down on the table, reaching his hand up to Mordecai's face. Colson sighs quietly, and steps closer, looking from each of Mordecai's eyes. "Oh, love." Colson takes a deep breath. "I…I had the thought that perhaps if I could simply avoid…" Colson trails off, brushing his thumb gently across Mordecai's cheek. "But all it will do is hurt you. Forgive me." Colson's lips move in a slight half-smile. "There is a question I should ask, and I am afraid of the answer."
"I know it's a little bit out of the way, I just thought… we don't have to go if you'd rather do something else." Mordecai sounds faintly apologetic. "What are you avoiding?"
Colson's hand is warm as he brushes a line across Mordecai's jaw. "The field. And the question of…" Colson halts. "You must understand, I know that you will accept all manner of circumstances to be by my side, I do not doubt that. But, the thought that you might be sacrificing something for that…" Colson trails off. "I know what I am like, in the field, and what impression I may have given you of what to expect, one that you saw was very different in the Company at large. What it could be like. And so, I have wondered if, perhaps, you would prefer it." Colson's breathing speeds up, and there's a flash of pain on his face. "If I could be like that. Like the others. Informal, not like the army, but simply a companion in the field. Casual. Not accepting whatever you must to be with me there, but if you…want something else," Colson says, his voice almost a whisper, as he bows his head.
Mordecai looks like he's about to say something several times, but Colson keeps talking, so Mordecai waits. He gives it an extra second or two to make sure Colson's done. "I thought we already talked about this," Mordecai says, squeezing Colson's hand once, gently. "Was I not clear enough? I must not have been…"
"I know you do not mind it, but there is a world of difference between not minding something and preferring it, or enjoying it," Colson says, his voice quiet.
Mordecai looks at the open sitting room door, then back at Colson. "Can we go upstairs?" he asks, his voice soft. "I'd like to talk about this, but not down here."
Colson's brows raise slightly, but he inclines his head. "Of course," he says, as he picks up Cressidha's note. "Let me ring for Rhinehart, and set the note for Cressidha on the table." Colson moves to do these tasks, his expression shifting into a neutral expression Colson is clearly fighting.
Mordecai lets go of Colson's hand and inches for the door. "Don't worry, please," he says, glancing over his shoulder anxiously. Mordecai waits by the bottom of the stairs, fidgeting with his fingers.
Colson's expression drifts in and out of neutral as he makes his way to the front table, setting the note there. Colson is, very obviously, worrying despite all attempts not to, but he turns and walks to Mordecai for the stairs.
Mordecai immediately holds a hand out to Colson.
Colson takes it, a look of anxiety and worry shifting his brows. There's a faint twitch of lips as though Colson has attempted a smile, and failed to make it manifest.
Mordecai leads Colson upstairs, heading for their room with quick steps.
Colson keeps up easily, moving slightly to the front as they get to the door, ready to open it first.
Mordecai allows Colson to get the door, ducking inside without releasing Colson's hand.
Colson does a very cursory glance at the room, turning to Mordecai, shutting the door behind them with a gentle hand that he leaves on the door.
"What have I ever done to give you the impression that I might wish you were any different than you are, love? Is that just an old fear, or did I say something?" Mordecai sounds concerned.
"No," Colson says, moving in closer, his expression going pained. "Not me, not for you, how I am always. I know you find me to suit you. You have made that clear, love. But, who I am here, and who I am out there are not the same. And before, perhaps it was familiar enough to not seem important, but now you know what it might be like. Not like the army, not like how I." Colson halts again, his jaw working briefly. "And all I want is to make you as happy as I can. And if you would prefer…"
"You've never made me feel the way being in the army did," Mordecai says, looking down at Colson's left hand, which he's holding.
Colson looks at Mordecai, something catching his features between hope and fear enough that all that is clear is some form of distress, neither one or the other in full.
"Colson, sweetheart, I'm trying to understand what exactly the question is. No, I don't wish you were any different. I love being out there with you. It's better in every way than - than working with my old unit was." Mordecai rests his free hand on Colson's shoulder.
"But if I could be more like the others? Like Sir Ference, or Dane, or Ben? Would you like it more." Asking the question seems to cause almost real pain to Colson, his voice hitching slightly on the word 'more.'
"No, of course not," Mordecai says quickly, with feeling, like he has to correct this potential misunderstanding as soon as possible.
Colson exhales in a breath as though he's been holding it for hours, almost collapsing with relief as he moves to place his head on Mordecai's shoulder, one hand still braced against the door.
"Oh, sweetheart. That was it?" Mordecai wraps his arms around Colson, pulling him in closer, and kisses the side of Colson's head. "No, no, I don't want you to be more like anyone else."
"I do, sometimes, still wish it. That I could do what seems to come so easily to others. 'Turn it off,' at will. I have long accepted that I cannot, but the thought that perhaps, I might make you happier if I could…" Colson exhales in a long breath. "Not here, but out there." The Field. Out There.
"Colson, I'm not sure it's possible for me to be happier. I think I hit the maximum amount of happiness possible a couple months ago and I've just been stuck there." Mordecai's tone is light, but he seems entirely honest.
Colson laughs quietly, something in his shoulders relaxing as he presses a kiss to Mordecai's shoulder. "Ah. Well." There's an obvious pleased tone to Colson's voice, although he doesn't lift his head up.
"When you said that who you are here and who you are out there aren't the same, what did you mean by that?" Mordecai asks, turning his face towards Colson's hair and breathing in the scent of home.
Colson makes a soft sound. "I never fully let it go, out there. The soldier in me, the commander. I cannot. But here, I can move it away far enough to not let it touch this, unless I want it to." Colson smiles enough that it might be palpable, as he turns his head to press a kiss to Mordecai's collarbone. "And I admit that sometimes I do want it to," he says and there's almost a purr in the baritone. "But only by choice. Out there, that is as casual and informal as I can ever be. And I know it is not really either."
"My preference, and I think I've said this before, is for whatever makes you most comfortable in any given situation. You know that, yes?"
Colson closes his eyes. "Yes. For what you prefer." Colson presses in closer. "But that was before you went out with the Company, and saw what your real options are. I am not your only option any longer."
"You weren't my only option before, either. I was sent to Kalimdor with Gaakhed for a little while at one point, before the Dark Portal opened. I'm not the kind of person who starts requesting options that aren't on the menu, Colson." Mordecai nuzzles at Colson's hair. "I love you, and I love going places with you."
Colson makes a soft sound. "Your options for a commander, I meant." Colson sighs almost soundlessly. "I would go anywhere with you, simply to be there with you. I would try anything if you told me it would please you more. Even if I could not do it, I would try."
"Hm." Mordecai leans his head against Colson's, closing his eyes. "I've never thought of you as particularly formal out there."
Colson pauses a beat. "Truly?" He asks, in that way that sounds less like doubt and more like wonder in his voice.
"Not particularly, no."
Whatever lingering tension there was in Colson's back and shoulders releases as he makes a soft sound, almost curling around Mordecai. "Oh." There's a smile audible in the word.
Mordecai holds Colson close, smiling. "Is there anything else even remotely related to this that you're still worried about?"
Colson shakes his head. "No," he says, and it sounds as though he believes it.
"Well. While I've got you here…" Mordecai leans back against the door. "I've always found it very endearing, seeing you take note of plants or interesting crystals in the field. I love seeing you find something to be excited about."
Colson lifts his head up to be able to look at Mordecai's expression. "I do not always take note of them. There are times I feel as though I see nothing other than what I absolutely must. That narrowing of focus when I…" Colson moves his head a little.
Mordecai has a rather dreamy smile on his face. "I love the way your Light feels. The way your blessings feel. It's hard to describe, and this might sound a little silly, but there's this feeling like… I'm important. Like I deserve to be kept safe. It's nice. I love when you step in front of me so that I can fade away from danger. I love watching you pull enemies' attention off me and towards you with the Light." This is a whole list, apparently.
Colson's expression goes softer as Mordecai starts speaking, and then brighter, as a smile breaks over his face like a sweet summer dawn, making Colson look much younger for several moments.
Mordecai's still going. "I love when you check on me, every time, to make sure I'm all right. I know not to take that for granted, and it makes me so happy, that you do." He focuses in on Colson's face and that seems to derail his train of thought a little. "I love your smile. You have such a beautiful smile."
Colson's smile is gentle as he looks at Mordecai as though he is infinitely precious, and it's almost overwhelming, as Colson breathes deeply, looking from each of Mordecai's eyes.
"I love that you're a healer, like me, and you care. I love that you also wanted to know the names of those orcs. I love how much you care about Tenacious. I love that you had the lining of your gauntlets altered just so you could wear your wedding ring. I love that you take such good care of your belongings, but when someone's in need, that person becomes more important to you. I love when you offer to carry me. I love that you ask every time." Mordecai shows no signs of running out of things to say any time soon.
Colson doesn't look like he's going to interrupt any time soon, or even that he might be capable of it, his eyes going brighter with unshed tears as he smiles at Mordecai, bracing against the door as he leans in closer.
"I love how determined you are, whenever you set your mind to learning something new. I love that you try your best, even when it isn't easy. I love sitting with you at the piano and watching you turn that strange mess of lines and dots into music. I love your voice, I love that you let me sing with you. I love getting to watch you work, when you're making things. I love your hands, and how gentle you are. I love how you let me take care of you, truly, I do."
Colson has started to turn pinker and pinker, a blush that begins with a gentle streak of color across his cheekbones, but intensifies the longer Mordecai goes on, growing bright when Mordecai mentions Colson's hands.
Mordecai looks at Colson with clear and obvious affection. "I love how you always want to be close to me. I love getting to cook with you, and I love getting to bring food we made together to our friends."
Colson clears his throat and looks away, smiling and huffing a sound like a laugh, a grin flashing briefly wide enough to show the crooked tooth, before he moves to drop his head down on Mordecai's shoulder. "Light, Mordecai," he says quietly.
Mordecai pats Colson's back. "Should I stop?"
Colson laughs in delight, his shoulders shaking with it, as he lifts his head, leaning in close enough that his lips almost brush against Mordecai's. "I love you. More than I can say."
"I mean, there's more. There's always more. It's not a very well-organized list," Mordecai says, his tone very warm. "I love you too, Colson."
Colson moves in deceptively gently for a kiss, his body language relaxed, except for a clear sort of desperate joy in the kiss that rapidly intensifies.
Whatever else Mordecai was about to say is definitely derailed because it's time to kiss Colson instead. He seems completely fine with this.
Colson makes a decent attempt at phasing through Mordecai, or at least that is what it seems like as he presses against Mordecai tightly enough that there really isn't any space between them at all. It takes many minutes before Colson pulls back at all enough to speak. "If." He pauses, catching his breath. "If you want to go anywhere at all today. We should go now. I will take you anywhere you want." The phrasing on that does not seem to be accidental.
Mordecai, leaning heavily against the door for balance, just stares at Colson, pupils blown wide, trying to catch his breath. "Now?"
Colson makes a soft sound as he loses track of whatever thought he had, what question he asked, what question Mordecai was answering — all gone. Colson just says, "Yes," as he resumes kissing Mordecai, because that seems like the best idea.
Mordecai makes a noise that's probably agreement and does not say anything else for quite a while. They might leave the house eventually today.
In Nagrand, above the Throne of the Elements.
Mordecai lights a candle and lets it burn away to nothing in his hands. He looks focused.
Colson waits for the candle to dissipate before he reaches over to take Mordecai's hand. Colson might almost be glowing with happiness, a smile lingering around his face even with a serious expression.
"Light, grant us Fortitude and endurance." Mordecai wipes his palms off on his robe and takes Colson's hand, smiling back.
Colson's aura bursts into a strong crackle of red light around him, as Colson's lips move in prayer of two blessings. He doesn't take his eyes off Mordecai until they've taken hold, and then he exhales slowly as he lets go. "Ready?"
Mordecai nods. "Ready!" Was that an exclamation point's worth of enthusiasm? It was.
Colson's smile flashes, almost a grin, as he inclines his head, and sets off down the hill.
Tenacious snorts and begins his grass circle, as is his custom. Sometimes Colson just does things. It's fine.
Mordecai scoops something up in a sample jar after the very first elemental they take down. "Lucky."
Colson remembers these elementals' tricks, and he stops one from splashing Mordecai with a stunning blow before the elemental can shoot it.
Mordecai collects an even bigger water sample from the next one, looking up at Colson with a bright smile. "Very lucky."
Colson grins back, his face bright. Colson moves to the middle stone to sip at some water, leaning one hand on the rock probably unnecessarily.
Mordecai waits nearby, keeping an eye out for danger. Or elementals. Who aren't exactly dangerous. When it becomes inevitable that they have to swim at least somewhat, Mordecai does his best to keep his head above water. Droplets of water slide off his robes. The waterproofing enchantment is doing its job well.
Colson swims well, but it's also clear that the rock infused armor that he wears is much heavier than his other plate. He's slower, and much less graceful in the water as he uses more force to propel through the water. Colson glances back at Mordecai when one of the splish splashers lands a hit.
Water drips harmlessly off of the bubble-like shield around him.
Colson nods once, and keeps moving.
"I'm fine," Mordecai says, smiling.
"Yes," Colson agrees, sounding pleased by the fact.
Mordecai shakes the sample jar and the water forms into a single gleaming blue blob floating in the center of the jar. He takes out a new sample jar. "Got one, at least," Mordecai says happily.
"Ten more." Colson seems undaunted by this.
Mordecai is paying attention. He is. He's timing his shields perfectly every thirty seconds and everything. But he also keeps looking at Colson and smiling.
Colson, meanwhile, looks far too cheerful for a paladin mowing through enraged elemental spirits, but here he is. When he glances over and sees Mordecai smiling at him, Colson makes a sound like a quiet laugh, striding forward over the bracers of a big splashy wave-spirit.
Mordecai spins around to face yet another angry elemental coming up from behind him in the water.
Colson clears his throat after they're done being rudely interrupted by another elemental. "So, the mission yesterday that Sil asked my assistance with? It was to aid the Explorers' League." Absolutely incongruous with his words, which sound very conversational, Colson steps in very close, one hand reaching for Mordecai's cheek.
Mordecai nods. "What with? Are you allowed to…" Mordecai blinks and immediately loses track of what he's saying.
Colson brushes the plated fingers gently across Mordecai's cheek, smiling faintly, as his aura shifts around him. Colson murmurs something, and a blessing settles around them both. "Apparently, morale was low." Colson's voice holds barely concealed amusement. "Are we allowed to…?" Colson prompts.
Mordecai blinks several times. "Hm? Oh. Tell me about it, I meant. In case it was something confidential. Which it doesn't sound like?"
Colson chuckles, and makes a soft 'hm' sound as he leans in closer for a moment, breathing deeply, before he steps back. "They wanted refreshments. From ogres."
"They… what?"
Colson chuckles, as he fights two elementals, turning over his shoulder to smile at Mordecai. "They wanted refreshments. From ogres. Apparently the Kaldorei do not brew anything of interest for the dwarves there."
Mordecai goes, "Huh." He just accepts this.
Colson shrugs his right shoulder. "I was glad to be of service, to Sil at least. It seems it was a favor of a friend of a friend sort of thing." Colson sobers slightly. "Sil makes friends rather easily. These, at least, I have no concerns about."
Mordecai says, "Do you think," quietly, and trails off.
"Hm?"
One dead elemental later, Mordecai says shyly, "Do you think he'd want to be my friend?"
Colson looks over at Mordecai with a very soft expression. "I recognize my rather extreme bias in this matter, but I cannot imagine anyone who would not wish for your friendship. Sil in particular I am certain would be glad to call you a friend."
Mordecai blushes, because of course he does. "Oh. Well. That would be… nice."
"He does seem to befriend all manner of people," Colson says. "The one I went to meet, the other day?" Colson exhales slowly. "Not merely a Sin'dorei, as I suspected. A 'Demon Hunter' as they are known."
Mordecai nods as the terminology whooshes right over his head.
"It turns out the reason they are called that is…they undergo a ceremony where they deliberately merge their soul and essence with a demon," Colson says, his voice mild and even.
"Wait, what?" Mordecai is so obviously distracted by this that he scoops up some of the wrong type of elemental water in a sample jar and has to empty it out.
Colson makes a faint 'mmhm' sound. "There is some sort of initiation, where I gather there is a ritualistic eating of a demon's heart, and it alters them fully. There is something with their eyes as well. Sil's friend's eyes were fully damaged, and she wears a blindfold, but she can see energy now, of some sort of sight."
"Eating a…" Mordecai makes a face.
"Yes. She believed in the transformation, following the design of Illidan the Betrayer, until…something went wrong. She abandoned his cause, defecting from his order. And now, she remains in something like hiding in Shattrath. I believe she regrets her choice to become a Demon Hunter, and has made another choice to reclaim what she can, but what was done is done. She cannot undo it."
"That's… sad." Mordecai shakes his head.
"Yes," Colson agrees. "I was speaking to Sil of how I made my own choice to become a paladin at 18. And while I have never regretted it, and do not believe I will ever have cause to, I can sympathize with the weight of making such a choice."
"What about the… demon she… merged with? Does it have influence over her?"
Colson shakes his head at the question. "No, it does not seem to. She felt…similar to a warlock. Only stranger. But, she did not seem…as though she were demon-ridden, so much as…something has been warped."
Mordecai hums thoughtfully.
"Sil said that when he first met her, she was not well. Plagued by nightmares, and drinking heavily to cover them. She was living on the streets of Shattrath, and when he spoke to me of her nightmares, I suggested that she might improve if she had a safer place to sleep. Since he has helped her with a room on the Scryer's Terrace, it seems she has indeed improved significantly. She says that it does not get worse, the demon taint, but she does not know what will happen when she dies."
"I wonder if I…" Mordecai trails off. "No, I don't believe I've met her. I'd remember a blind elf."
Colson nods. "She has not gone to the infirmary. I believe she fears discovery. I did offer her a safe opportunity for healing, through us, if she has need of help. For now, she is stable, and I believe she will not seek help for any pain if there is any lingering. But, she has no allies outside of Sil's friendship at the moment, and that is always a very dangerous place for someone who knows they are…fel tainted. The potential to fall further is high."
Mordecai nods quietly. "I understand," he says a moment later, because Colson is fighting an elemental and probably missed it.
"In the army, there were several policies that I was instructed to follow in working with warlocks. One that stuck with me was to not allow them to isolate. Isolation frequently led to corruption by their demons." Colson scans the lake.
"Yes," Mordecai agrees.
"I would not be surprised if some of her improvement is not only from a better living situation, but knowing that Sil is there, and has not turned from her."
"It makes a big difference," Mordecai agrees. "Having… even one person on your side."
Colson opens his mouth to agree, and then looks over at Mordecai with a soft, almost pained expression as he moves in closer. "Yes," he agrees, in a soft voice. Colson puts his sword away, and strips off his right gauntlet, to be able to place a warm hand on Mordecai's cheek.
Mordecai smiles at Colson, leaning into the touch. "Exactly," he agrees.
Colson sighs as the elemental decides to interrupt. A Blessing of Protection goes out, and Colson turns to strike it with Holy power, because a Holy Paladin does not need his sword to attack.
Mordecai relaxes into the blessing right away, as always.
Colson turns back to Mordecai the moment the elemental is just bracers on the ground, smiling faintly, as he sets his hand back where he wanted it to be. As he does, Colson's aura burns a bright red, and he leans in closer, the prayer now almost audible. There is something about love and light and a beacon, as Colson prays quietly, the blessing settling around Mordecai. Colson's own prayer is, by contrast, very brief.
"You're so warm," Mordecai says happily, and presses a quick kiss to Colson's palm before pulling back and looking around. Did any of the elementals see that? Maybe. Did they care? Definitely not.
Colson closes his hand around the kiss with a gentle smile, as he withdraws and puts the gauntlet back on. "You feel a little cold," Colson replies. He doesn't seem worried.
"Just a little." Mordecai shrugs. "The sun's warm, at least."
"Mmm," Colson says, and there's a fleeting smile that looks just shy of a grin. "Well. I can warm you up, later."
Mordecai presses his hands to his cheeks, says, "Thatsoundsnice," and turns away, flustered. How about those elementals.
Colson covers what seems to be a grin by drinking some water. Again, as a water elemental shoots a bolt past Colson despite his best efforts, Colson glances at Mordecai to check.
Mordecai smiles immediately. He looks untouched, and water drips off the air in a sphere around him.
Colson smiles faintly back, and continues forward.
Mordecai fills up the third sample jar and shakes it to assemble another primal water.
Colson stops to drink more water, looking at Mordecai with a soft expression. "May I ask, how did you know about Oswald? The whisker fatigue." Colson sounds genuinely curious, rather than questioning Mordecai's expertise.
"Mr. Thomas had a cat. Olive." Mordecai shrugs.
Colson starts to smile faintly, and then it drops off his face abruptly, a tightness around his eyes at some thought. "Ah," he says, his voice mild and controlled. "After…" Colson trails off in suggestion of 'after Mordred killed him.' "Did you take care of her? Or…" Colson makes a soft sort of sound.
"Me? Light, no, I would never have been allowed— I imagine she must have gone to someone in his family."
Colson nods, his face still tightly controlled, almost neutral. "Did you want a pet, when you were younger?" Colson asks, his voice gentle.
"No," Mordecai says, decisively.
Colson makes a 'hm' sort of sound. "I did, as a very young child. Oh…seven, or eight. Briefly. I think I mostly wanted something to take care of, but later…and now. Well."
"Cressidha told me she had a pet rat once," Mordecai says, uncertain, like perhaps maybe Cressidha had been joking about that. "Was it not… also your rat?"
Colson smiles gently. "Yes. She did." Colson looks at Mordecai with a soft expression and shakes his head. "No. I would never intrude on what was hers. It was our secret, but her pet."
"Oh."
Colson glances at Mordecai, and shrugs his right shoulder. "Much like Oswald is her cat. I have never had a pet."
"I'm fine," Mordecai says preemptively as water drips off the shield bubble around him. His tone is affectionate.
Colson looks over to where Tenacious is. "And truly right now, Tenacious is more than enough to worry about taking care of, as far as an animal is concerned."
Mordecai makes a faint, amused noise.
Colson, notably, does not consider Tenacious 'a pet.' Colson clears a path to the rock and moves his back against it, beckoning Mordecai in closer with an elegant movement of his fingers.
Mordecai scoots over. His hair is slightly damp, but his robes are fairly dry.
Colson moves to set his hand on the rock near Mordecai, leaning in close, as he reaches his right hand for Mordecai's cheek. "The elemental still to your 11 o'clock?" Colson asks in a voice at odds with how close he is. It sounds military precise.
"Mmhm." Mordecai keeps an eye on it and maintains his shield, which doesn't block Colson from reaching through it at all.
Colson inhales deeply as he closes his eyes briefly, his aura shifting, as he prays quickly. He opens his eyes, his fingers running a trail from Mordecai's cheek to his shoulders. "Light, you're beautiful," Colson says in almost a whisper.
Mordecai gasps as an elemental chooses this particular moment to hit Colson with a water bolt and immediately says, "Shield," putting Colson in a safety bubble.
Colson sighs deeply, his own wings sprouting into existence behind him, as he stuns the elemental that has rudely interrupted. Colson pushes his hair back off his face. "Well."
Mordecai clears his throat. "Well."
Colson blinks as he picks up a…hat from the ground when the elemental bursts into a splash of water. "Huh."
Mordecai leans over to look at it. "Oh."
Colson makes a 'hm' sound, as he shrugs. Who can understand why some things have hats.
Mordecai does not question this.
Colson sips at some water, and looks over at Mordecai. "How are we doing?"
Mordecai counts through his filled sample jars. "Four."
"Hm," Colson says, as he rotates his wrist with his sword. He doesn't look tired. But he has been fighting elementals non-stop for quite some time. He continues. Colson stops to drink water again, and this time, he drinks more, closing his eyes briefly as he does.
Mordecai looks over and asks, "How much longer are we staying out here?" He sounds a little tired.
Colson turns from the latest elemental, and there's a faint smile on his face. "How long do you wish to stay out here?" Colson asks in some form of an answer.
"We could go?" Mordecai smiles back.
Colson steps in closer, offering up an arm as though in escort. "Of course," he says easily.
Mordecai takes Colson's arm, looking around for danger. Or splashy water elementals.
Colson smiles, looking delighted. An elemental seems to take issue with this however. Is Colson going to fight this elemental bothering them one-handed? Possibly.
Yes, yes he is. It’s fine.
Tenacious looks up from a completely depleted grass circle. Oh, Colson is back. Perhaps…he will take Tenacious to New Grass.
Mordecai looks at the circle, then at Colson.
Colson makes a 'hmm' sound, as he walks Mordecai over to Pastry in a genteel escort.
Pastry has eaten a grass zigzag. It doesn't quite have the flair of Tenacious' circle.
Tenacious' circle is precise enough that it is entirely possible that somewhere out there, some environmentalist is wondering what machine is leaving strange holes of grass, and has embarked on a petition against flying mechanical gryphons.
Mordecai smiles at Colson and climbs up into the saddle. "Shall we?"
Colson waits for Mordecai to be settled before he walks to Tenacious, leaping up into the saddle with an easy sproing for a guy in full plate. "Yes."