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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | Mordecai and Colson return to Telaar, where Colson collects his mail, including an unexpected letter from Roper about the status of Aszera Sunstrike, and the journal of Syarra Sunstrike. 4800-ish words. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Chain: Morson
Colson does not seem surprised that there is something of a backlog of mail for him, waiting. He hasn't checked it in a few days in Telaar, and Colson receives regular correspondence of varying types. As he pulls out the small pile, however, there is one letter among the others that very obviously catches Colson's attention — a simple, plain envelope with Colson's name and address written in spiky handwriting.
Mordecai, looking over Colson's shoulder, frowns immediately. He tries to finger-comb his windblown curly hair into some semblance of neatness, and fails. "Oh, now what," Mordecai mutters, and he does not sound pleased.
"Hm," Colson sounds thoughtful, but he shakes his head slightly. "I am not certain." He tucks the letter back in with the rest into his right hand, and offers out his left for Mordecai with a soft smile. "Shall we?" He looks towards the inn. "Would you care to order anything to be sent up to the room for dinner, or shall one of us obtain something later?"
"…Hm?" Mordecai seems for a moment like he didn't hear the question, but then he puts his hand in Colson's and says, "Let's order something?"
Colson nods agreeably, moving in closer to Mordecai, as he sets off into the inn.
Mordecai, who has placed orders here plenty of times, shifts a little bit behind Colson as they approach the counter. This is Mordecai for 'you do the talking, please'.
Colson seems fine with this arrangement, and comfortable in it, as he greets Isel politely, making some small talk back and forth as though he truly does not mind it, and finally places an order for a dinner that Colson often prefers that is a little meat centric, and then pauses.
Mordecai nods to him. He's fine with that. No changes.
Do not perceive the priest.
Colson doubles it, and makes more polite parting conversation with Isel before excusing them both from this social situation, leading back towards the ramp for upstairs.
Mordecai looks relieved that he didn't have to do anything more than smile and nod, and he's already got his inn key out as he heads up the ramp with Colson, ready to open the door.
It still takes him two tries, as he puts the key confidently to the lock upside-down for the first attempt.
Colson doesn't suppress the little smile when Mordecai holds it up incorrectly the first time, and his expression is still brighter from it as he opens the door and steps inside, moving to set the mail on the table by the door.
Mordecai has a faint frown on his face as he puts his inn key away and sets his bag down next to the mail. Their inn room in Telaar is lit mostly by the central skylight at the moment, but Mordecai doesn't turn on any other lights. He toes off his boots by the door, looking distant.
Colson shuts the door behind them, unstraps his sword, and removes his cloak by the door. He picks his mail back up and moves to the armor table, turning on the light by it, as he starts removing the armor, setting the mail on the desk.
Mordecai does not offer to help. He walks quietly to the washroom, passing by Colson without even looking at him, and shuts the door gently behind him.
Colson looks up from his armor at the sound, a faint frown of concern on his face as he stares at the door, removing his armor quickly.
With the door shut, faint sounds are audible that indicate that Mordecai is… probably just using the washroom as intended. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Nothing except that when Mordecai exits a minute later, fussing with one of the buttons of his vest, his face is blank.
Colson sets the last of his armor on the desk. "Mordecai?" His voice has that undercurrent of worry.
"Hm?" Mordecai walks around the padded bench to stand next to Colson by the desk, on his left. "What is it?"
Colson reaches out both hands to Mordecai with a faint smile. "Welcome home," he says gently, leaning in closer.
Mordecai takes Colson's hands, looking at him with that distant, blank expression.
Colson leans in for a kiss, searching Mordecai's expression as though he's trying to see navy text on a black paper.
Mordecai seems almost surprised by it, and he pulls back, blinking rapidly at Colson. "Oh," he says, like he's just remembered where he is. "Welcome home." Mordecai leans forward himself this time.
Colson blinks once in surprise when Mordecai pulls away, and then relaxes once more as Mordecai moves in closer. Colson closes the distance between them, and kisses Mordecai like it might be the only thing he needs to do, and that Colson is willing to ensure it's done correctly.
Mordecai lets go of Colson's hands and wraps his arms around Colson's back instead, pulling him in for a hug too.
Colson makes a happy humming sound, pulling Mordecai in closer as he sets his arms around Mordecai's waist. "Is everything alright?" He asks softly, searching Mordecai's expression again.
"Every time he writes, it's always upsetting," Mordecai says, and he both looks and sounds apologetic, as if it's Mordecai who has somehow done something wrong. "I just want to get it over and done with."
Colson frowns faintly, as he considers that. "Do you want me to tell him not to write to me again?" Colson asks quietly, and he seems as though he's bracing himself slightly.
There's a brief pause. "I am not going to ask that of you," Mordecai says, frowning, "because that isn't the kind of person I want to be." There is a very faint hint of frustration in his voice.
Colson nods slowly, as he sets his left hand against Mordecai's cheek. "Is there anything I can do that may make it easier?"
Mordecai inhales sharply. "Just – " he begins to say, the frustration more obvious now, but he cuts himself off, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. When he opens them and speaks again, he seems perfectly calm. "Just read it, get it over with," Mordecai says, and now he sounds resigned, not frustrated.
Colson does not seem assuaged by this, but he nods as he releases Mordecai to reach for Roper’s letter, Colson's attention still obviously more on Mordecai as he does because it takes him two tries to get the right one out of the pile.
Mordecai rubs at his face with both hands and goes to sit down on the padded bench, stretching his legs out in front of him.
Colson opens the letter, ripping through the envelope with his forefinger in lieu of a letter opener, and removes a letter that seems long enough at the least to warrant two pieces of paper. Colson starts reading it there, his eyes scanning quickly.
Mordecai watches him, hands in his lap as he picks anxiously at the edges of his nails.
Colson curses quietly, and when he gets to the end there's an immediate inhale of breath, and a flash of pain that turns immediately to guilt. Colson clenches his jaw, and begins to fold the letter back up.
Mordecai frowns. "Come here, Colson. May I read it…?"
Colson makes a soft 'hm?' sound, turning to Mordecai. "Of course," he agrees, holding it out to Mordecai as he moves to sit next to Mordecai on the bench.
Mordecai takes the letter carefully from him, nudging Colson's shoulder with his before opening the letter a second time.
Colson leans his cheek onto Mordecai's shoulder, slipping his arm behind Mordecai's waist.
Mordecai's jaw tenses as he reads, and he frowns at the letter. When he's finished reading, he turns and kisses the top of Colson's head, then reads it again, practically glaring at the paper.
Colson presses a kiss to Mordecai's shoulder. "Well." Colson exhales slowly. "I should see to the rest," he says as he moves as though to stand up. "Would you care for anything to drink? I may make some tea."
Mordecai says quietly, "Hot chocolate?" His eyes are on the letter, and he looks angry, but his voice is soft.
Colson blinks, as he stands. "Of course," he says, as he starts in the direction of the kitchen, aiming for the kettle and a small pot. He glances back over at Mordecai. "Darling? Please do not take anything he says to heart. He's angry, and I believe…" Colson pauses and reframes the sentence. "I had not considered how he might have felt about his friend being harmed. I shall handle it."
Mordecai looks up sharply. "You'll what? Do not promise this man anything else, please."
"I do not intend to promise him anything," Colson says mildly, as he fills the kettle. "I shall inquire after the diary, and speak to Aszera so that she is aware of her choices. I had already intended to speak with her on the subject of pursuing her vengeance, and it has nothing at all to do with what Roper has written. Rather it was Kit, whose compassion and understanding, that persuaded me to believe that regardless of the physical actions that may have been done, we should extend an element of grace to those who were under the control of the Lich King while they perpetuated those acts. Their minds and wills were not their own, and I believe she is right that we should allow a second chance. Aszera may have to heal in other ways that do not involve seeking the end of a Death Knight involved in her sister's death."
"Fine. Fine, talk to Aze, that's fine." Mordecai folds the letter up and tosses it onto the desk. He pulls his legs up and wraps his arms around his knees, putting his head down, becoming ball-shaped.
Colson sets the kettle on the stove, turning it to the correct temperature. He collects the milk, pours it into the small pot, and sets it on another part of the stove. Tasks completed for the moment, he crosses back to Mordecai to kneel in front of him. "Is there something you were worried about?"
Mordecai opens his eyes. "Roper's sort of manipulative cruelty reminds me very much of Mordred, and I don't like that he's speaking to you that way," he says, his voice tight.
Colson sets his hands on Mordecai's knees. "It does not bother me, love. He is not Mordred. I know him. I spent seven months as the sole person he could be himself with, as his handler. I know what he is doing, and why. And he is not wrong that I deliberately looked away with the diary, because it is true that I have not regarded the members of the Ebon Blade as fully people in their own right as I should be." He hesitates, and adds in a gentle voice, "If you would prefer, I can write to him and provide clearer boundaries for what is acceptable in tone. I will speak to him of it on your behalf."
"It bothers me." Mordecai uncurls from the ball, sitting cross-legged. "You knew him. You knew who he was. What do you want from him now, Colson?"
Colson looks steadily at Mordecai. "I want him to find peace," Colson says, in a quiet voice. "I know he cannot be truly healed from what he has been through, but I do not like knowing that he is in pain still, and that there may be something I might still do to ease it. I would rather make the attempt, in the hopes that it shall perhaps help, and improve with time." Colson exhales slowly. "However, I will never choose him over you, my love. Not in any way. I will never hurt you to heal him. That will never alter. If it bothers you to hear him speak, I shall address it, to ensure it does not occur again."
Mordecai hesitates for a long time, twisting his hands in his lap. Finally he says, "I think I'd like a bit of time to try and untangle how I feel about this, and what I can and can't tolerate. Will you hold off on replying for a little while?"
"Of course." Colson rises back up to a stand, leaning over at the waist. "May I kiss you?" He asks, looking at Mordecai's expression with soft eyes.
Mordecai shakes his head no. "I would prefer if you didn't right now," he says, but he reaches up to touch Colson's cheek gently. "I need a few minutes. Don't let the milk boil, love. You'll want to stir it."
Colson leans his face into the touch. "I shall." He rises fully back up, crossing over to the kitchen to ensure the milk does not boil, while the water does.
"Thank you." Mordecai stands up. "I'm not upset with you," he says, as he crosses to the washroom again. "I'm angry at him, and I want to make sure I don't take it out on you. I just need a bit of time to calm myself down, and I'd like to be alone for a few minutes. Please excuse me." That said, he disappears into the washroom, shutting the door behind him.
Colson attends to his tasks with a careful attentiveness, his expression gone blank as he stirs the milk, removing it from the heat before he adds the chocolate. While the water finishes boiling, Colson sets up the teapot with tea. The water is a little too hot for the blend, and it will turn out more bitter than it should, but Colson does not seem to particularly care. He puts far more care into the hot chocolate, pouring it carefully into a mug while the tea oversteeps.
There is no noise at all from the washroom - at least nothing audible from the kitchen.
True to his word, however, Mordecai does emerge in a few minutes. He seems to have combed out his hair while he was in there. He steps neatly around the padded bench, moving towards the bed, and turns on the single string of purple crystal lights that hangs above the headboard, smiling a little at it.
"The hot chocolate is ready, if you would still like it," Colson says, gently, although his back is still to Mordecai as he pours some of the tea into another mug.
"Yes, please," Mordecai says, crossing directly to Colson. "Thank you for waiting," he says in a soft voice, setting a hand on Colson's shoulder from behind and attempting to gently turn him around.
Colson turns easily into the motion, the neutral mask still over his expression. "Always." Colson raises a hand elegantly to indicate the mug of hot chocolate with a tiny plate over the top to keep it from cooling too far. He leaves the mug of his tea on the counter, because it counts as a breakable object, and Mordecai has touched him.
As soon as the mug is set down, Mordecai steps in much closer, one arm curling around Colson's waist and the other reaching up to touch his cheek. "May I, now?" Mordecai asks.
"Always," Colson repeats, moving in closer, as he sets his hand against Mordecai's, pressing it gently.
Mordecai leans in for a kiss, very tentatively, as if he suspects Colson might change his mind for some reason.
Colson returns the kiss gently, making a contented sound at the contact.
Mordecai makes a little humming noise and leans his forehead against Colson's. "It's something I really admire about you, that desire to keep reaching out to help others. I'm not going to ask you to stop doing that. I think maybe setting some boundaries might be a step in the right direction, but I'd like to talk over the wording with you later."
"As you wish." Colson sets a hand on Mordecai's hip, seeming to be perfectly content not to move at all, despite two hot beverages starting to cool, one faster than the other, on the counter behind him.
Mordecai kisses him again, soft and gentle, and then prompts, "Would you like to sit with me while we hold some breakable objects? I'd like to enjoy that hot chocolate you made for me while it's still warm."
"Oh," Colson says. "Of course." He releases Mordecai, to collect his breakable object of bitter tea.
Mordecai collects his mug of hot chocolate, removes the cover, and brings it over to the table, where he sits down on the bench cross-legged, leaning close to breathe in the scent of the hot chocolate.
Colson follows behind, sitting down gracefully as he sets his mug of tea on the table, staring politely at it, as one does with comfort hot liquids.
Mordecai takes a sip and smiles at Colson. "It's good. Thank you."
Colson smiles faintly back. "I am glad."
"How are you feeling now?" Mordecai asks, nudging Colson's shoulder lightly with his.
Colson doesn't nudge Mordecai back, but that is likely because of the breakable object. "I am fine." He raises his brows slightly. "How are the hibiscus?"
"Beautiful," Mordecai says, smiling at Colson. He takes another sip of hot chocolate, sets it down on the table, and only then does he say, "Also, the hibiscuses are doing well."
Colson makes a soft sound, and with the hot chocolate down on the table, leans closer, his hand immediately going to Mordecai's hair. "Lovely," Colson says. A beat. "Also, it is good to hear the hibiscus are well."
Mordecai licks his lips, takes stock of the locations of the breakable objects (both mugs are safely on the kitchen table), and leans in for another kiss. Why not.
Colson smiles gently, brushing his fingers through the curls, turning more into the kiss to deepen it, unhurried.
Mordecai relaxes into it. He keeps both of his hands resting on the table, perhaps as a reminder that the hot chocolate still exists, and after a long moment he pulls away, smiling, to pick up the mug again.
Colson draws back. Mug. Rules. He closes his hand over his tea, and takes a very perfunctory sip, immediately setting it back down.
Mordecai drinks more hot chocolate, looking rather content. "This is good." He said that earlier, but he's saying it again now.
Colson smiles faintly, setting his hand on the table closer to Mordecai.
Mordecai puts the mug down and sets his hand on top of Colson's. "What are you thinking about?" he asks, curious.
"Hm?" Colson turns his hand over, to be able to hold Mordecai's hand. "Ah." He makes a considering sound. "I am thinking about several things. Some are more pleasing than others," Colson says in a gentle voice.
Mordecai laces their fingers together. "It wasn't your decision, about the diary. It was Celaven's choice to make. Even Syarra didn't ask for it in her letter. We can mention it to Aze, that she wants it back, but those words were written specifically to cut you."
"Yes." Colson frowns slightly, and hesitates a long beat. "I have hurt him in some way, and I am…considering what that may have been. I have a thought of what that may be. I have been recalling an altercation between Callum and Roper. There was a particular phrase that Callum used that was…cutting, for Roper, that the identity he was in could not react to. Later, Roper was different, far angrier than I had ever seen."
Mordecai's smile fades, and he stares down at the table. After a moment, he picks up his mug of hot chocolate, takes another sip, and sets it down again.
"'You're just a tool to be used,'" Colson says. He clears his throat. "I am paraphrasing a few, ah, choice additions, but that was the gist of it." Colson exhales very slowly as he stares at his tea. "I have been treating him in such a manner. As much as I aspire to do as King Varian has spoken, to regard the Ebon Blade as an ally of Stormwind, and to listen to the words of Sir Fordring on redemption, the truth is that I have not looked upon those of the Ebon Blade with the respect and compassion I should be. I have treated him as though he is nothing more than a…tool." Colson inhales deeply, curling his fingers more around Mordecai's hand.
"I could say that it was to keep some distance between us, as I believe is necessary until certain…feelings fade, but that would not be entirely true. If he were still a living man, even in these same circumstances, I would not have treated him as I have. I would have inquired after his situation." A flash of pain across Colson's features. "I would have thanked him, for his efforts. And I have not."
"I understand," Mordecai says quietly. He doesn't look at Colson. "He said he can't forgive you. I don't disagree with what you're saying, but is it even possible for any sort of friendship between the two of you to be a healthy one?"
"It does not have to be friendship," Colson says, to the tea, who understands. This tea is also not Colson's friend, and never will be. "I am not certain we can be. However, I have not treated him with the respect I would have paid to another, as a colleague or associate, or even an acquaintance. I have been far colder to him than I would have been to another that I could see all too clearly has been wounded." Colson closes his eyes. "I am not particularly proud of that." He sounds guilty, and the nuances are difficult to parse of which guilt is the strongest between personal and paladin.
"If you wish to apologize for that, I understand completely," Mordecai says, squeezing Colson's hand gently twice. "I tried to treat him with that respect, both times we met, but I don't think it meant anything, coming from me. There's no reason why he shouldn't hate me."
Mordecai picks up the mug, drinks the rest of his hot chocolate, and sets it down, pushing it a little bit away from him.
Colson abandons his tea, to be able to move closer against Mordecai, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "If he knew you at all, I do not see how he could possibly feel so," Colson says with the confidence of a man with an extraordinary bias. "However, I would not ask you to attempt to form any sort of…rapport with him, knowing that it causes you discomfort."
"I got what he wanted, Colson," Mordecai says, and he sounds genuinely sympathetic towards Roper. "You."
Colson doesn't disagree, just holds onto Mordecai's hand tighter. "You always would have," Colson says, and it sounds like he genuinely believes it.
"That's not going to make a difference to how he feels about me," Mordecai points out, and shakes his head. "I just don't want him to keep hurting you. You don't deserve that, Colson."
Colson inhales deeply, and when he speaks it is slowly, and carefully. "He knows me very well, Mordecai. If it had been another, who had simply been lost and resurrected into life, I would not have hesitated to contact Roper to ask Syarra what she would have wished to be done. Had I even considered it at all that she was still a person, I would have ensured that we secured her consent prior. I did not, and he knows it." A pause, as Colson's eyelashes flicker. "He knew what it meant. I am not saying that I shall simply stand there and allow him to hurt me, or without any cause only to draw that metaphorical blood. You know I shall not. I will, however, not say that his words were entirely undeserved, as unkind as they were. It was never his way to put things gently."
There's another lengthy pause before Mordecai says, "Fine." He sounds tired.
Colson says nothing as he sets his cheek against Mordecai's shoulder, breathing him in.
Mordecai closes his eyes, leaning against Colson. "I used to have people in my life who retaliated with anger and cruelty when they were upset with me," Mordecai says after several minutes have gone by. "It was never Mordred's way to put things gently, either."
Colson's exhales, closing his eyes, as he gently squeezes Mordecai's hand twice. "Please," Colson asks, and there is a pleading tone to his voice. "Please, do not compare the two. Roper is many things, but he is not your brother."
Mordecai looks at Colson and sighs. "Forgive me. It's only that… I don't wish to treat that sort of behavior as acceptable."
"He has done everything I have asked of him," Colson says, his eyes still closed, a note of pain in his voice. "It was he who begged me to stop letting him hurt me, and it was he who walked away, Mordecai. I returned it by hurting him instead. It is not the same. I am not excusing it, and if I truly believed it was done with nothing but an intent to be cruel, to hurt me for the sake of doing so, I would not hesitate to shield myself from it. I have simply been considering what has led him to say it as such." He brings Mordecai's hand up to his face to press into it. "I am not attempting to martyr myself, love, only trying to be a good enough paladin to look on another with compassion and respect rather than a cold detachment."
The words 'I am not excusing it' seem to be, perhaps, what Mordecai was waiting to hear, because his body language relaxes somewhat, and he leans more against Colson. "All right," he says, and his voice is softer, kinder. "Say whatever you see fit. Write back whenever you'd like. It's fine. I'll try to be less… defensive." He sounds like he means it.
Colson kisses Mordecai's hand. "I love you," he says, his lips moving against Mordecai's skin with the words. "I love that you come to my defense, darling. Always."
Mordecai turns more towards Colson. "I love you too," he says, and as he's speaking, there is a knock at the door that makes Mordecai jump a little in his seat.
This would be, presumably, the food that they ordered to be sent up.
Colson doesn't startle, but he does set a gentle hand over Mordecai's. "My Shield," Colson says quietly, pressing another kiss to Mordecai's hand. He lifts his head and moves as though to rise to a stand. "I shall get it."
"Thank you," Mordecai says fondly, standing up himself. He pats Colson's shoulder before going to the cabinets to get out dishes and silverware and the like. More breakable objects.
Colson abandons his tea fully, the mug completely non-sentient though so it's not like it's staring at his departing back with sad eyes or anything, as Colson goes to answer the door to collect their food.
Colson opens the door and makes some small polite talk with the Draenei who delivers it. Colson thanks her politely, and excuses himself before shutting the door, holding onto a tray with an easy grace. "Are you ready to eat?" Colson asks Mordecai. "Or would you prefer to wait until later?"
By the time Colson has finished being polite, Mordecai is already sitting down at the table again. "I'm hungry," he says, ducking his head a little. "If you don't mind."
"Not at all," Colson says, as he brings over the tray to the table, setting it down in the center. As soon as it's placed, Colson lowers his head to drop a kiss to Mordecai's hair before he sits gracefully on the bench, very close.
Mordecai smiles at Colson. "I'm feeling better now. Thank you for your patience, earlier. And your concern. I don't like making you worry, but it means a lot to me, how much you care."
Colson's expression goes softer, as he reaches out a hand to lightly trail along Mordecai's jaw. "There is nothing easier in all the world for me than loving you, darling."
Mordecai smiles brighter and leans in for a pre-dinner kiss.
Colson returns it, happily, and with more enthusiasm than he had for either his dinner or his tea.
"It means a lot that you still ask, whenever you aren't sure, too," Mordecai says quietly. "Always."
Colson smiles gently at Mordecai. "It means a lot to me that you say no, when you do not wish for it at that moment," he says, with a depth of feeling in the words. "It makes me happy, that you know you can do so, without consequence."
Mordecai sets a hand on Colson's shoulder. "I'm never afraid to say no to you, love," he says, and smiles. "Let's eat before this gets cold too?"
Colson nods. "Of course."