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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | Colson gets back from Sunday Squad mission, to find he has mail waiting for him. Colson and Mordecai work to untangle the mysteries of Syarra Sunstrike, and what cookie Colson would like for his birthday. 4200-ish words. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Chain: Morson
Colson unlocks the door, opens it, and steps through in a smooth motion. His hair is extraordinarily tousled, and his cheeks are a little reddened, but there's a faint smile on his face.
Mordecai is at the kitchen counter, apron on, and very clearly in the middle of a cooking task. He has a smudge of flour on his cheekbone that he is unaware of. "Colson! Welcome home." Mordecai smiles, but remains where he is.
"It is good to be back," Colson says, unstrapping his sword, his smile widening at the sight of the bit of flour. His aura still hasn't shifted from [Crusader Aura]. Maybe he's forgotten about it.
"Are you all right? Did everything go well?" Mordecai turns back to the counter. Dough is being folded. It's another croissants day.
"I am well, as are the others," Colson says, and he touches his bag, for some reason. "It did not all go as we had hoped, but I believe it is clearer now why we were called in. Extracting the Archmage is far from a simple task." Colson makes his way to the desk, his eyes on Mordecai.
"I just need a couple more minutes and then this goes back to cooling off," Mordecai says, and picks up speed.
Colson gets out of the armor in the You Have Less Than Five Minutes To Get Free Of Armor Or The World Ends speed, as he watches Mordecai.
Mordecai does not rush through laminating the dough, but he keeps talking. "So the Archmage is still in the tower, I take it?"
Colson runs a hand through his hair. It does absolutely nothing to help the general disarray. He looks like he spent an hour up close and personal with a massive hairdryer set to maximum. "Unfortunately, yes." He hesitates, and looks down at his hands. Colson elects to say nothing more for the moment, as he crosses the room to the kitchen to Mordecai.
Mordecai nods. "Croissants. They're not congratulations-on-rescuing-the-Archmage croissants, fortunately, just croissants."
Colson chuckles, and moves to wrap his arms around Mordecai's waist.
Mordecai leans back into it. "Tell me how it went?"
Colson drops a kiss to Mordecai's right shoulder, and sighs quietly as he sets his chin there a moment after. "Well. We managed to establish a better perimeter against the mana creatures spilling into the remains of the town of the tower. We weakened the barrier around the tower enough to be able to pass through, although we were still partially affected by the curse. I am fine, as are the others," Colson adds immediately. "It was localized only."
Mordecai tenses at 'affected by the curse' and then relaxes at 'I am fine', as predicted. "Ah."
"The problem was that the ritual the Archmage assumed would be sufficient was not. He was not able to overcome what the Prince did, and the only other option available to us will be to secure the true key to the prison. We could not pick the lock, in other words." Colson hesitates again, and watches where Mordecai is in the dough process.
Mordecai nods. "I see." He puts the dough into the Cold Bag and moves towards the sink to wash his hands.
Colson waits until Mordecai has finished washing his hands, and there's a pause, as Colson concentrates, and his aura changes to [Devotion Aura].
Mordecai dries his hands off on a dish towel, hangs up his apron, and turns to Colson, smiling. "Welcome home."
Colson smiles and reaches up his hand to brush at the flour on Mordecai's cheek, as the other goes for Mordecai's hip. "Hi."
Mordecai rests his hands on Colson's shoulders. "Hi, Colson."
Colson smiles faintly and leans in for a welcome home kiss.
Mordecai kisses him back like it's been days instead of several hours. It has only been several hours.
Colson makes an encouraging sound, as he pulls Mordecai in closer. If he had other thoughts, they have been currently suspended in the To Be Thought About Later pile.
Mordecai attempts to neaten out Colson's hair. Colson's hair is at least much more straightforward to work with than his own.
Colson pulls away just enough to be able to look at Mordecai with a soft smile on his face. It takes him several long seconds of staring before he blinks, and remembers Thoughts. There's a tensing around his eyes before he says, carefully, "The key we need to acquire will send us into Tempest Keep." You know. The place where M'uru was left, and captured from.
"Ah." Mordecai transitions from hair-rearranging to hair petting.
Colson seems to be waiting for something to happen, and when it doesn't, he relaxes further. "We will be doing what we can to prepare for it. We do not need to take back the Keep, only infiltrate it for where we know the key should be, in possession of a Sin'dorei woman named Commander Sarannis."
Mordecai nods. "Mmm. But you'll be going in with all five of you, yes?"
Colson nods. "When we can be sure we can do so safely, and that we will not interfere with larger plans in motion."
"All right." Mordecai kisses Colson's cheek. "I believe in you all. I'm sure you'll find it. And Cressidha can get you out quickly with a portal, if you're overrun."
"Yes," Colson says, and inhales deeply, glancing back towards his bags. He drops his eyes, and clears his throat. "I received word back from the others, about Syarra." There's a brief flicker in Colson's face, but he lifts his head to look at Mordecai. "Would you care to read them with me?"
Mordecai bites his lip and nods. "Yes, of course." He reaches into his pocket and takes out a tiny little snail-shaped timer, which he sets to sixty minutes.
Colson hesitates, and then nods once, stepping away towards his bags. "Mr. Oakley, Dame Clay, and," the slightest pause, "Roper all sent their replies. I have not heard back from a few others, but I do not expect much from them."
Mordecai pockets the snail-timer again and follows Colson across the room, frowning faintly.
Colson reaches into the Mooncloth bag, and pulls out three letters, of varying types of envelopes and forms of addressing Colson. He moves to sit gracefully on the bench, stretching his legs out in front of him, as he sets Bree and Roper's aside, to open Therald's first.
Mordecai settles down next to Colson and immediately moves very very close, wrapping an arm around Colson's waist and leaning his head against Colson's shoulder. Mordecai starts to pull his legs up, stops, and stretches them out instead.
Colson makes a happy humming sort of sound, as he turns his head to drop a kiss to Mordecai's hair, as he slides his finger through the envelope to break the seal. He opens the letter, and reads it aloud, his expression moving in tiny movements as he absorbs the information.
Mordecai reads along over Colson's shoulder as he listens, still frowning.
"That confirms what Celaven said, that Syarra's horse made it to the Chapel, and how he came into possession of her journal. Hm. I wonder if Sir Gavynn knows anything about that Scarlet team. I have not heard back from him in some time."
Mordecai goes, "Mmm." He looks over at the other letters.
Colson reads through Therald's once more, silently, to himself, before he reaches for Roper's, and then hesitates, as he looks between it and Bree's.
"Get it over with," Mordecai mumbles.
Colson makes a sound like something between a huff of a laugh and a sigh, as he picks up Roper's. It's addressed simply to 'Colson' on ordinary paper. Colson breaks the seal easily, and opens it. In spiky, aggressive handwriting are two full pages of information. Colson takes a deep breath, and starts to read it out loud.
Mordecai bites his lip and reads along.
Colson reads the words with no real inflection, his voice mild and even. At the mention of Colson's brush with death, his hands clench abruptly on the paper.
Mordecai pulls Colson in a little closer towards him.
Colson clears his throat, opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it, as he continues reading the letter, attempting to smooth out the little crinkles his hands left behind.
Mordecai freezes when Colson gets to the words 'last one standing'.
Colson turns his head, pausing in the reading, to press a kiss to Mordecai's hair.
Mordecai is clearly still reading. He mumbles, "I have a guess."
Colson gets to the 'riddle' and stops reading again, his expression going serious.
Mordecai reaches his free hand up to touch his neck.
Colson resumes the last few lines and frowns harder as he gets to the PS. He doesn't linger on the mention of his birthday.
"Water," Mordecai says abruptly, and pulls away. He all but runs across the room to the kitchen sink.
Colson stands abruptly, the letter falling to the ground as he watches Mordecai.
Mordecai doesn't even get as far as turning the tap on. He clutches the edge of the sink and vomits into it.
Colson strides across the room rapidly, not a run, but it's close. Colson sets a hand gently on Mordecai's back, the Light gathering already in his hand. "I'm here."
Mordecai nods slightly. "Urgh. Sorry. Think I'm – " He swallows hard, grimacing. " – done." Mordecai turns the tap on, letting the running water wash things down the drain. He leans over and just puts his face in the stream of running water, drinking some to swish it around in his mouth and spit out into the sink. "Ngh. She was a - she drew on the Light. Syarra." Mordecai washes off his hands and face before turning off the water.
Colson casts a slow Holy Light, his aura shifting to [Fire Resistance Aura], slightly cooling the air around him. "You think she used [Divine Intervention]."
Mordecai nods. He seems to relax as the spell takes hold, bracing both arms against the sink and slumping forward a little. "I think so."
Colson brushes his hand slowly up and down Mordecai's back. "She would not have been the last, then. We cannot call upon the Light so fully without one to sacrifice ourselves for. It is possible she cast it on the Death Knight, but that would have taken extraordinary faith, and I do not believe, from what Celaven said, she possessed that. Someone else she cared for, enough to value their life more than hers, even if only for a moment, would have still had to have been alive."
"It would've been her healer." Mordecai dries his hands on the dish towel and wipes his face on his own sleeve.
Colson looks down at his hands. "Yes."
Mordecai turns back to Colson. He's gone a little pale. "Sorry about that."
Colson's expression softens as he shakes his head, opening his arms for Mordecai. "There is nothing to apologize for, love. Come here?"
Mordecai steps in close, wrapping his arms around Colson's back. "'mere."
Colson breathes in deeply, holds it, and breathes out slowly, his arms coming around Mordecai strong, warm, and sure.
Mordecai matches his breathing to Colson's for at least a full minute, just standing there, before he says, "You were crushed by kodo?"
Colson tenses only very slightly before he relaxes, his aura shifting back to [Devotion Aura]. "Yes."
"Did you die?"
"No," Colson says. "It was close. It crushed both my ribs into my lungs, ruptured several organs. I had seconds to live, which was enough time to cast. I had to get back on my feet." Colson exhales slowly, his voice very even. "It was in defense of Roper. For the mission. It is likely why he recalls it."
"Ah." Mordecai untangles from the hug just enough to rest both hands on Colson's chest, over his ribs. "That's an impressive heal to manage on yourself."
Colson flushes, as he shrugs his right shoulder slightly. "It was what I could do well enough to make me useful as a field healer." He clears his throat, moving a hand up to brush through Mordecai's hair gently. "Are you alright?"
"I think I'd like to sit down again. Can we sit back down?"
"Of course," Colson says, and smiles faintly. "Would you like me to carry you, or would you rather walk?"
Mordecai immediately loops his arms around Colson's neck, ready to be carried. "Yes please."
Colson smiles a little wider, the flush still warming his cheeks slightly, as he reaches down to pick Mordecai up. It's not his smoothest, but he readjusts Mordecai slightly, and makes his way towards the bed.
Mordecai mutters, "I could walk. If I wanted to." Clearly he does not want to.
"I love carrying you," Colson says he gently sets Mordecai down on his side, leaning over him for a moment, smiling down at him. "Thank you for letting me do so."
Mordecai smiles back automatically. "I could levitate you two feet in the air and pull you around like a balloon, but I definitely can't pick you up, or you bet I would have tried by now."
Colson laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. "Now that is an image. Put a white sheet over me, and I could be your paladin ghost balloon."
Mordecai laughs, delighted. He flips his pillow up against the headboard and sits back against it. "Could I see that letter again…?" He holds a hand out.
Colson's expression goes softer at the laugh, and it takes him an extra moment before he straightens, and finally turns. He picks Roper's letter off the floor, and hands it over to Mordecai. "Of course."
"Thank you." Mordecai scans through the contents with a thoughtful expression.
Colson moves back to collect Therald's letter, setting it on the desk, and Bree's, which he holds onto as he makes his way back to the bed, crossing extremely unnecessarily over Mordecai to get to Colson's side of the bed.
Mordecai stretches his legs out in front of him the way Colson does. "You did pay him," Mordecai mutters, folding the letter up. "Unless that was just for the last job."
"Likely he considered that for services rendered before, not for all future ones," Colson says. He shrugs his right shoulder.
Mordecai stretches way to his right to set the letter down on the desk. He does not fall off the bed, but it's a close call. "When is your birthday, anyway?"
Colson's hand goes out automatically, ready to grab Mordecai, and he only relaxes once Mordecai's back safely fully on the bed. "November 2nd," Colson says, casually, like it's not particularly important, and not in just three days.
The only reason Mordecai does not fall off the bed is because Colson waited.
"What?" Mordecai stares at him, alarmed.
Colson's brows go up in question.
"When did you say?" Mordecai asks. Maybe it won't be in three days if he asks a second time.
"November 2nd," Colson repeats, in a tone that makes absolutely no indication that he's repeating himself, just as calmly and dismissively as before.
Mordecai counts on his fingers. "…It's October 30th."
"Today? Yes," Colson confirms.
"That's… in three days. I have to go grocery shopping. Wait, are you going to want to be in Stormwind? For your sister? The townhouse might have groceries." Mordecai's expression has gone distant. He's calculating.
Colson nods. "We have dinner together, now that I am home again. It is not a particularly involved affair, no presents or such. Rhinehart makes two cookies for the occasion." Colson smiles. "I always give Cressidha mine."
"Oh." Mordecai rubs his cheek. "Do you want anything else?"
Colson leans in closer for a kiss to Mordecai's cheek. "I have everything I want," he says, with feeling.
Mordecai flushes and looks down. "I mean. I could make something?"
"If you would like," Colson says easily. "I would be pleased by anything you might give me. We never do much for our birthday. Winter Veil is when we exchange a gift, Cressidha and I."
Mordecai rubs at his face. "I understand. Ah. Mine's, um, November 11th. So. Not that long after yours."
"Yes. Twelve days until yours," Colson says, sounding infinitely more interested in this fact than his own birthday. "I hope it is alright if I have something to give to you for it."
"Y-you do?" Mordecai looks startled.
Colson blushes a little, clearing his throat. "Yes. It is…well. I have hopes for it, but we shall see if I am able to do it. I still have some time left. I started early enough, I think."
Mordecai smiles at him, shy, and puts a hand on Colson's arm. "I tend to forget about mine," he admits.
"I used to say in the army that I would forget mine, but I always remember when Cressidha's is," Colson says, his voice going a little dry, but a faint smile still around his eyes.
Mordecai makes a faint amused noise. "That's such a Colson thing to say."
Colson leans closer. "I have been looking forward to yours since…" Colson pauses, a brief flicker of something passing over his features. "Since renegotiating the contract. Your first birthday with me, and not them."
Mordecai shrugs one shoulder. "It's not like they ever remembered."
There's that flash of rage, a slight, faint shimmer of red light skimming just the surface of Colson's skin before he rapidly tucks it all back away behind a neutral expression, his hand reaching for Mordecai's hand. "I will. Always."
"I got a Winter Veil present once, though," Mordecai says, like this is very unusual. "In the army." He takes Colson's hand gently, linking their fingers together.
Colson is breathing very evenly. "Oh?" He brushes his fingers over Mordecai's wedding ring, his hand pleasantly warm.
Mordecai nods. "Harrier got me a thermos. I don't have it any more, though. I lost it."
Colson relaxes slightly. "I see. Where did you lose it?"
Mordecai looks almost apologetic. "Oh. Um. Mt. Hyjal."
"Ah," Colson says. "Well. I wonder if he recalls where he got it from."
Mordecai shrugs. He squeezes Colson's hand once. "I do want to make you something. For your birthday. Do you have any requests?"
Colson's expression goes a little warmer as he leans in very close. "For something you might make for me?" Colson clarifies. As though there might be other options on the table.
Mordecai blinks and nods. He stalls out for a second because oh hello Colson is very close all of a sudden. "Mmhm?"
"Well. You could make me a secret cookie," Colson says, his eyes flicking to Mordecai's lips for a brief second before he looks back to Mordecai's eyes. "One that is only for me."
Mordecai nods. "Chocolate chip cookies? Sugar cookies? Butter cookies? Oatmeal raisin? Gingerbread? What other… ah, thumbprint cookies? … Colson, that's not specific at all."
Colson chuckles, brushing his thumb over Mordecai's wedding ring again. "Your cookies, Mordecai. That is what I want. I don't know what I might like best. At age five I could tell you I was fond of snickerdoodles, but I truly do not know if that is still true." Colson tilts his head slightly.
"I can make those." Mordecai shrugs. "I-I know you'll like pretty much anything, but 'anything' is very very broad. It does help to have something to narrow it down."
Colson makes a 'hm' sound. "I do not think I would like something with frosting on the top, if it was very sweet as well already." Very helpful Colson. That narrows it down a lot.
Mordecai nods. He looks across the room at the recipe book on the kitchen counter, then back at Colson. "Hm."
Colson pulls away, setting Bree's letter in his lap. "I still need to read Dame Clay's letter. After, I can work on what I need to do next, and we could attempt to narrow the Cookie Question further, if you would like."
"Oh. Right." Mordecai looks at the letter, surprised. That thing still exists.
Somehow. Colson keeps his perfect posture as he slides his finger through the envelope, breaking the seal easily, and unfolds the letter. He reads it out loud, in that same calm voice. It probably sounds much more an accurate tone than Roper's, at least.
"Elivia…" Mordecai frowns. "Aze had a priestess friend she called 'Liv'. I hope it's not the same person."
Colson's expression has gone grim, all warmth and amusement gone. "If so, that is unfortunate. It also makes it likely that she was the healer." Colson runs a finger near the paragraph about Kit. "Dame Du Lac. That was the friend of mine Syarra met."
"Ah." Mordecai frowns at the letter some more.
"I wrote to her not that long ago, to offer my condolences for." A pause, as Colson swallows, something flashing over his face. "Fionette. I can write to her once more. She may know more. Syarra, it seems at least, is maintaining the same story she told Roper."
Mordecai nods. He puts a hand on Colson's shoulder. "That's a good next step."
Colson exhales slowly. "And I shall see if Aszera recognizes any of these names, and she may be able to find out more in her own efforts. But, I believe the picture of what happened is becoming clearer. I still need to verify what Roper reported of Syarra. Both or either could be lying."
Mordecai says quietly, "You're good at this."
Colson flushes, folding Bree's letter up. "All I am doing is asking people what they know, really."
"You've got the patience and persistence to unravel the threads of something until you get somewhere. You did it with my family. You're doing it again. You're good at it." Mordecai's thumb traces a shape on Colson's shoulder that might be a heart.
Colson's blush intensifies, as he looks down at his shoulder, tilting his head. It takes him a moment for the touch feedback to hit enough for him to smile at the heart. "Well. It is the least I can do for Aszera. I know I would want answers, if something happened to any of my siblings."
Mordecai nods. "Well, you have good siblings." He reaches into his pants pocket and checks the snail timer. He still has over half an hour to go. He puts it away again.
Colson drops his eyes to his hands and pauses for a moment, before he says in a mild, too-casual voice. "I keep track of them. Gavin, your mother, and your father. I will know if or when they die. You may have that information as soon as I know, if you wish."
"I would want to know, yes," Mordecai says, nodding. "Thank you, love."
Colson nods, and sets Bree's letter on his nightstand, reaching back for the table. "Of course."
Mordecai rubs his cheek, staring off into the distance. "This feels like a dream sometimes. Like everything's too good to be true." He focuses on Colson again, smiling. "But it's real."
Colson leans back in closer, a smile on his face, his cheeks still streaked a little with red.
Mordecai smiles at Colson. "Well, that's the mail out of the way. Any other news?"
"Mm. Well. Only that I can still report that Bunny has not managed to accidentally spill me onto the dirt so far, and that I missed you today," Colson says, still looking at Mordecai with that soft smile on his face.
Mordecai tucks some hair back behind Colson's ear, smiling back. "I missed you too."
Colson leans into the touch. His hair still has elements of Wind Tunnel to it, making him look a little wild, but it's still Colson, calm and steady as usual. "Do you want to narrow down the cookies, while I work on sorting through this information? Or do you want my focus on the cookies?" Colson seems equally fine with either option.
Mordecai considers this. "Work first." He gestures towards the envelopes, scattered as they are.
Colson nods, and disentangles his hand from Mordecai's so he can climb entirely unnecessarily over Mordecai, pausing over him to lean down for a kiss. "I need my notebook," he says, in explanation. Presumably he's going to keep going to the desk, and his bag, with the notebook.
Mordecai behaves, meaning he keeps his hands to himself, although he does kiss Colson back. "Mmhm."
Colson continues on to the desk, scooping up his bag with his notebook, and Therald's letter. He reverses his journey back over the bed, once again pausing for a kiss on his way back.
Mordecai continues to behave. Once Colson has settled, Mordecai looks around the room. "Where should I be if you're going to focus on this?"
"Anywhere you wish to be," Colson says honestly, as he gathers Roper's letter, and then Bree's. He pulls out his notebook and a pencil. "As long as you are not actively distracting me, I will have enough for this."
Mordecai nods. "I'll try not to," he says, and stretches out on the bed, on top of the covers, rolling onto his side to face away from Colson. "In around half an hour, I have more croissants to deal with. Snocoza's counting."
Colson brushes a hand down Mordecai's spine, his touch light, but firm enough to not tickle. "Thank you for your service, Snocoza," Colson says, in that stoic voice of his.
Mordecai makes a happy humming sound and closes his eyes. He's resting now. No distractions.
Colson inhales deeply, and turns his attention to his paperwork, his expression going neutral, as the Knight-Captain rises and regards his options seriously, weighing the information he's received with a strategic eye.