![](http://cobalt-company.wdfiles.com/local--resized-images/writing:2023-03-22-awkward-social-encounters-and-new-places/style="margin:/medium.jpg) |
| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | Mordecai and Colson leave the Borean Tundra via turtle to explore the other side of Northrend, as they navigate various social encounters from almost-exes to malevolent giants to elder brothers. 11,500k-ish words. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Chain: Morson
Mordecai does not haggle when buying candles. He just quietly counts out money, collects his [Sacred Candles], and thanks Maethor Skyshadow politely.
Colson waits patiently, with no particular reaction to the cost of the candle economy here in Northrend.
Rounding the corner from the direction of the training yard is an older gentleman in an Alliance uniform. As Mordecai packs the candles away in his bag, the man takes notice. "Chaplain Aspenwood."
Colson turns at the name, a mild expression on his face, which is nothing new. It's just what his face looks like.
Mordecai starts and manages not to drop anything. "Sir Collins. Good afternoon," he says very politely, holding a gloved hand out to Colson.
Colson takes Mordecai's hand, and whatever vague polite neutrality was on his face shifts to something a little colder, and a lot more stoically neutral. "Marshal Collins. Good afternoon," Colson says politely, but there's a coolness to his tone.
The Marshal approaches, his expression cordial. "This is Sir Aspenwood, I take it? Good afternoon."
Mordecai's grip on Colson's hand tightens a little. "I-I'd like to introduce my husband, Colson," he says as confidently as he can manage. "Colson, this is Marshal Edmund Collins."
Colson inclines his head. "We have met, some years ago, in Theramore, during the operation to attempt to reclaim the territory lost around Tiragarde Keep, after the admiral's occupation of it," Colson says with military precision. "Knight-Lieutenant Aspenwood, at the time," he adds with that same snap of report.
"Forgive me, Knight-Lieutenant. My memory for faces is not what it once was. Have you been well?"
Mordecai shifts a little closer to Colson.
"Yes. I am no longer a Knight-Captain, however. Honorable discharge, two years ago. I am employed by Sir Elohad Ference the Enduring and Jocoza Sparkwire's Company, Cobalt Company." The 'you may have heard of us' is implied.
Collins raises a brow. "Is that so? Cobalt Company… you're with the mercenaries who aided Farshire?"
"Yes," Colson says matter-of-factly. "Our forward squad. I am a member of that team, as their paladin." Colson clears his throat. "We have been rather busy as of late. And I am afraid we cannot stay to chat, Marshal. We have a turtle to catch. If you will excuse us," Colson says as he starts to pull away. "Light be with you, Marshal." He doesn't add a blessing.
Marshal Collins doesn't seem offended. "Of course. Have a safe… turtle voyage, Sir Aspenwood, Chaplain Aspenwood."
Mordecai says politely, "Light be with you," and follows after Colson, his head bowed. Mordecai releases his grip on Colson's hand as they round the corner and pulls his hood up.
Colson approaches the flight master with that same neutral expression locked in place, as he pays for the first gryphon.
Mordecai pays for the second one and gets on. He's shaking a little, but it's subtle.
Colson is waiting by the gryphon master, his eyes on Mordecai's gryphon landing. He reaches out a hand as soon as the gryphon is on the ground for Mordecai to take. Maybe to help him off the gryphon.
Mordecai stumbles a little as he gets off the gryphon, but he has Colson's hand to help him keep his balance, and he doesn't fall. "Thank you," he mumbles.
"Of course," Colson says softly, pulling gently on Mordecai's hand to shift him closer to Colson and away from the gryphon. "Are you alright?"
Mordecai glances at the docks. "I'm not sure? Come on, w-we don't want to miss the turtle."
Colson inclines his head.
The turtle arrives when Colson does. This is how he lives his life.
Mordecai looks thoughtful. "Hello, Walker of Waves," Mordecai says softly as he climbs the stairs up the turtle's back.
Colson has a mask of neutrality over his face.
Mordecai takes a deep breath. "We didn't miss it," he says, and relaxes a little.
"We did not," Colson agrees. It arrives when Colson does, it is known.
Mordecai smiles faintly at Colson. "Yes, I think I'm all right now."
Colson's expression softens at the sight. "I am glad of it," he says in that same very soft voice.
"Thank you, love." Mordecai squeezes Colson's hand once.
Colson squeezes back once, but his brows raise slightly. "For what?"
"Asking." Mordecai shrugs. "Oh! The other one!" He breaks into a run.
Colson starts running when Mordecai does, keeping an easy pace. The turtle is there because Colson is there.
They make it onto Green Island before the turtle starts moving. Perfectly timed, as always.
Mordecai looks at the coast.
Colson seems to be taking note of the giant dragon skeleton and ships in particular. "Ah, the shipwrecks Miss Westwind spoke of."
"And the, uh, the Scarlet Onslaught? I assume?"
"I saw one of their banners. Earlier. Before the shipwrecks."
"Is it possible, yes. I believe they came in this direction."
Mordecai steps carefully down from the turtle. "So this is, um… What did they call it?"
Colson keeps hold of Mordecai's hand as they get off the turble. "Kamagua," Colson supplies. He might not be pronouncing it entirely accurately, but close enough.
Mordecai nods. "Kamagua…"
Colson looks at the…fish…lamps. "Hm."
Mordecai goes directly to the flight master, getting his passport updated as quickly as possible.
Colson updates his with a polite small talk back and forth with the goblin flight master. The goblin tells Colson to "be good," which seems a little like telling water to be wet, but okay.
Mordecai makes no attempt at polite small talk.
There sure are a lot of fish and fish related things in Kamagua. If Colson notices the smell of the ocean and fish, it doesn't show in his expression.
"It seems peaceful here," Mordecai says quietly. "I'm glad."
Colson nods. The buildings are intact, the tuskarr seem to be thriving, all is relatively well in this bit of peaceful village. "Yes."
"Where do we… um… I suppose maybe we follow the road?" Mordecai does not seem inclined to ask a stranger for directions.
Colson removes a map from his bag, as he consults it. "We will need to take a lift, as I understand it, up to the cliffs in the east, and then head north along this western road," he says. He can't actually point though, because his hand is holding Mordecai's. "Westguard keep is, well, west," Colson adds.
Mordecai nods.
Colson raises a hand in greeting to a nearby tuskarr. "Excuse me, may I ask if you know where the lift to the east is located? We are of Cobalt Company. We are looking to get to Westguard Keep."
"Oh, I think I see the lift. Is it that…" Mordecai points, because he DOES have a free hand.
The tuskarr points with his spear in the same direction that Mordecai pointed a moment ago. "Do you see the ropes?"
Colson inclines his head. "Yes. That is the one?"
"Yes. The lift travels along those cables."
Colson nods. "Thank you. Light be with you," he says politely, with an offering of a Blessing of Might.
"May the tides favor you," the tuskarr says politely in return.
Colson puts his map back away, as he keeps hold of Mordecai's hand over the snow.
Colson pauses when Mordecai does.
Mordecai looks out at the rest of the little island and then down, where some sort of purple flowers are growing.
"Do you know what these are?" Mordecai asks Colson.
Colson looks at them with mild interest. "Ah. I believe these are the purple wild lupines," Colson says, because he's been studying up on his Northrend botany.
"Are they poisonous?" Mordecai asks.
"Ah, not to the touch no, but these are not to be eaten, and their roots as I understand can be mildly irritating to the skin, if you cut them open, and the seeds are toxic in even low doses to humans and animals," Colson reports. "They are perfectly fine in a vase, however."
Mordecai nods. He scans the flowers for one that seems safe to pick. "I don't have one in the book yet."
Colson makes an affirmative sound. He is not in any sort of rush, and it shows. He gives off the impression that they could spend the rest of the day looking over for the perfect flower for the book.
Mordecai pushes his hood back and crouches down. "Hm…"
Colson kneels, his eyes flicking to the movement of the wild wolves in the field nearby.
A [Spearfang Worg] is perhaps uncomfortably close by in terms of how close by one might like a wolf to be. It's probably fine.
Colson is keeping an eye on it, but he doesn't move to intercept it. As long as it's minding its own wolfy business, Colson has no beef, or, er, shoveltusk meat with it. Whatever.
Mordecai finally picks a flower and holds it out to Colson. "Do you have somewhere to put this?"
Colson opens up his bag for plants. There are small holes in the sides for stems to hold them in place. "Yes," he says, as he places the flower carefully inside.
Mordecai smiles. "Thank you." He stands up. "I'll ask you about it later. For the book."
"Of course," Colson agrees easily. "I have a book that details it better than I am likely to recall." He smiles faintly. "I could read you the entry, if you would like."
Mordecai nods. "Remind me about it, please?"
"I shall," Colson promises.
Mordecai stares up at the lift, fascinated.
Colson walks onto the boat that arrives when he does, because this is his life. He keeps hold of Mordecai as it takes off with a sudden lurch of motion.
"Wow," Mordecai says quietly.
Colson steps off gracefully, following Mordecai.
"Look, you can see all the way down from here." Mordecai points with his free hand.
There is one tree inconveniently blocking about 50% of the view, but it's fine.
Colson looks. The height of the cliff doesn't seem to bother him.
Mordecai seems totally undaunted by the height as well. "We came from way down there."
Colson makes an affirmative sound.
"Isn't it pretty?" Mordecai looks at Colson, smiling.
Colson looks back at Mordecai, his expression going softer as he keeps his eyes on Mordecai's face. "It is very pretty," he says. Maybe about the landscape.
Mordecai laughs, blushing faintly as he protests, "You're not even looking."
Colson smiles gently as he raises his other hand to brush some of Mordecai's curls off his forehead. He makes a small, non-committal sound. "It's very pretty here," he says, looking at Mordecai's expression.
"You're pretty." Mordecai seems a little startled when he hears that he said that out loud.
Colson smiles wider, as he very carefully touches a gloved finger to Mordecai's cheek. "You are so beautiful," he murmurs as the compliment ping pong begins again. "I love seeing you like this, out here."
"Like what?" Mordecai tilts his head a little, curious.
"Excited, interested," Colson says, making them sound like fascinating concepts. "Exploring new places, knowing you are free to do so, and enjoying it, the new things we see."
"Oh." Mordecai nods, smiling a little shyly. "Ralaea said she wasn't here for pretty places, she was here to fight the Scourge. I…"
Colson's brows raise slightly.
"I mean, I'm here to fight the Scourge, too, but m-maybe it can be both?" Mordecai offers uncertainly.
Colson smiles faintly. "I would not look to Miss Westwind as an example, love. Her singular focus has often led her to experiences I would not wish you to emulate. Looking for the beauty in life, taking hold of those moments, is part of what tethers us to our lives, and gives us hope when the darkness seems overwhelming. Few wars are won overnight. We must be able to hold the course, long after the initial foray into it. Stopping to have a moment to remember what we are fighting for strengthens that resolve, not weakens it; it is a lesson Miss Westwind has yet to learn, but she is young, and she has not had as many experiences with war outside the Scarlet Crusade's dangerous zeal."
Mordecai turns away from the view, towards Colson, looking up at him for once because the two of them are standing on a slope.
Colson's attention is already fully on Mordecai's face. If he's noticed the temporary height difference, it doesn't show.
"What are you fighting for?" Mordecai asks, accompanied by his usual head tilt of faint curiosity.
Colson makes a soft sound. "Life. Creation, and order, in the largest senses of the word, as a servant of the Light. When those seem distant, I think of smaller things. I am fighting for you, for your smile, your laugh. I am fighting for Cressidha, for her joy, her exploration of the world. I am fighting for Arnie, for a world he can grow up in. I am fighting for our garden back home, soon to bloom with spring. I am fighting for a world where when we stop to look at it, we can, without fear."
Mordecai smiles. "The garden was in my list, too," he admits. "I want you to get a chance to take care of it."
Colson smiles back, his eyes soft. "I want to see you in the kitchen again, through the window, and smell something baking. It's beautiful." He glances around them. "And I want more of this. Of being in places with you for the first time. That is the sort of thing I fight for, the light I hold onto, when there is death and pain and failure, that we must persevere through."
"I'm happy to be a part of that. I truly am."
Colson brushes at another curl, trying to move it away from Mordecai's brow. It's futile, Colson.
Mordecai finally squeezes Colson's hand once and steps away, looking around again. "…fire." Mordecai's smile fades quickly as he moves to get a better view of the burning trees.
Colson squeezes back once, and looks to the sky, nodding in agreement. "Yes. Large, and likely forest, rather than brush."
"It seems oddly contained," Mordecai says after a moment. "Magical, maybe?"
There's a flicker of something in Colson's face, but he nods again. "Possibly, yes. I cannot feel anything from here, or if it is a curse of some sort, but given the burn, I would expect it not to be natural."
"Do we need to warn someone? They… probably already know, right?"
"It would not do any harm to report it. If it began earlier today, it might not be known."
"If it's been burning like that for months or years, they might…" Mordecai shakes his head. "I-I suppose it doesn't matter. What they think."
"If it has been burning for that long, yes, I expect it will not come as a surprise, but it would be better to confirm that it is still as expected, than leave it out on assumption. They may have recently attempted to put it out and thought it successful, even if it has been here for some time. Redundant information is better than none," Colson says with that sense of the military in his tone.
"Maybe it's a landmark," Mordecai says thoughtfully. "Is it marked on your map?"
Colson opens his map, and orients himself with it. "I expect we are looking at the Ember Clutch. Dragons, perhaps, given the name."
"Oh. I see. With a name like that…" Mordecai nods.
Colson refolds the map carefully. "Westguard Keep is north, and a little west of Ember Clutch, along the coast line." That might actually be better described as 'cliff line,' but the map isn't as clear about elevation.
Mordecai nods, backing away from the cliff's edge. Dangerous.
Colson points north to the faint buildings. "There, I expect."
Mordecai points at a herd of shoveltusks. "What…"
"Mm. I confess, I do not know now what those are. The local fauna is not as familiar to me."
Mordecai stops to stare. "Oh, it's a family."
Colson nods. "I expect we should keep our distance. They are likely to be aggressive with their young with them."
The family gets closer. Mordecai…
They can sense him.
Mordecai holds still, watching.
A shoveltusk calf gets particularly close, eyeing the priest with curiosity before they wander off again.
Colson's right hand moves in a familiar way, as he prepares a Hand of Protection that proves to be unnecessary.
Mordecai heads down along the road, watching for danger. So far so good.
Colson follows the road. He notes the sign with a nod. "Westguard this way."
Mordecai looks curiously at a giant in the far distance.
Colson tenses slightly as a Storm Giant rounds a corner. "What…They said the vrykul are larger, human like, but that seems rather like an understatement, if that is what they are."
Mordecai takes a moment to stare.
Colson keeps hold of Mordecai as the giant's footsteps shake the earth.
Mordecai holds onto Colson's arm, eyes wide.
Colson watches calmly as the giant passes by, his arm crackling with Holy Lightning that fades as the giant keeps on keeping on.
"Well," Mordecai mutters under his breath.
"Well. That was certainly a size."
Mordecai laughs quietly.
Colson relaxes slightly at the laugh, and the giant moving farther away.
Colson frowns slightly, pausing as the vrykul huntress leads her wolf away. "Ah, that may be the vrykul," Colson says, gesturing to the east.
Mordecai goes, "Hm?" By the time he turns around, the vrykul has disappeared into the woods. "Dragons of some kind in the trees, there…"
Colson looks to the west with the dragons. "Ah, yes. Red, of course."
The vrykul around the dragons seem to be doing something there.
"That must be Westguard Keep, there."
Colson nods in agreement.
Colson gets out of the main road as the Alliance patrol makes their, uh, patrol.
Mordecai nearly trips, but he's still holding Colson's hand. He's fine.
"I have you," Colson says reflexively, as he keeps hold of Mordecai, watching the turn around of the patrol.
"Thank you," Mordecai says quietly. "I'm fine."
Colson smiles gently in return, resuming their walk to the keep.
Mordecai points towards the gryphons.
Colson nods, as they go to update their passports.
Mordecai has to finally let go of Colson's hand for this. The worst.
Colson makes polite chit-chat with the gryphon master as he gets his updated. It sure is weather. Sure are sounds from construction with the gryphons right there, mmhm mmhmm.
Mordecai gets away from the construction sounds the moment he has a chance.
Colson holds his hand out again as they walk away.
Mordecai takes it.
"Ah, that must be the inn," Colson says, gesturing to the large building with the inn sign.
Mordecai looks around.
Colson follows. "It is very much like Theramore, in the beginning," Colson remarks, watching the construction.
Mordecai nods. "A bit further along, of course, but… yes, I can see it."
Colson doesn't seem to have a strong opinion on the keep itself, regarding it with the same mild, neutral expression that is just his face.
Mordecai looks over at the zeppelin dock with wide eyes. "That's different from Theramore."
Colson frowns faintly. "Odd. I had not heard of any direct cooperation with the Horde here, but I suppose it would be reasonable, given the situation." Colson, an optimistic person who believes in the best of people, isn't wrong hypothetically.
In practice, however, the goblin who owns said zeppelin is already loudly complaining once more about his situation to anyone who will listen. The Aspenwoods are, luckily, out of earshot.
Colson regards the inn with mild interest. "I expect some of the Company may still be stationed here. Would you like to see?"
Mordecai nods. "It would be nice to see the others…" he says with some optimism.
Colson inclines his head as he makes his way towards the inn with that sense that he is meant to be there, and there is nothing odd at all about two strangers coming into Westguard unannounced and heading for the inn as if it was Stormwind and not the middle of Northrend.
It's mid-afternoon, but the inn isn't empty.
Seated at a table facing a door is a woman in her thirties with short brown hair and an Alliance tabard who stops eating her shoveltusk steak and openly stares at Colson and Mordecai as they enter. She drops her fork, and Mordecai flinches a little at the sound.
Colson doesn't seem to notice the stare, or maybe he's just used to it, but he does take notice of the flinch, as his hand tightens slightly on Mordecai's in a gentle squeeze, a very faint sense of a Blessing in the gesture.
Mordecai squeezes Colson's hand back once, blinking rapidly at the lady at the table. "Eileen?"
"Holy shit," the woman, presumably Eileen, says, and underneath the table she uses her foot to push one of the chairs at the table out a couple of inches in an invitation for somebody to sit. "Uh, beg pardon. I mean hi. Hey!" She pushes out a second chair next to the first in the same manner.
"Good afternoon," Colson says politely.
Mordecai smiles. He seems surprised but happy to see her, and he takes another step towards the table, pulling Colson along with him. "It's been a while. Eileen, this is my husband, Colson Aspenwood. Colson, this is Eileen Landry."
"Holy shit," Eileen mutters again under her breath. "Good afternoon. Wow. Right. Married. Yep."
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Colson says mildly, pulled along like a cooperative paladin tug boat.
"You two wanna sit?" Eileen offers, nudging a chair again. "Does your brother know you're here yet?" That question she seems to direct at Colson.
Colson's brows raise slightly. "My brother? Amadeus, or Bertrand, do you mean? The answer I expect to be the same, as we did not send on notice ahead of our visit here, but I was unaware either was stationed here currently," Colson says in so mild a tone that you'd think he was speaking of the weather, rather than beloved family members. He doesn't sit. He seems to be waiting for Mordecai to indicate one way or another how long he would like to commit to this social interaction.
Mordecai nods slightly to Colson and moves to take the chair on the left.
"The LC. Amadeus." Eileen grins. "Damn. Mordecai, weren't you gonna marry his sister?"
There's no easily perceptible change to Colson's expression as he remarks in that same voice as though there is nothing particularly remarkable about it, "Our families had a long standing contract for a merger of the family lines. We simply adjusted the specifics, as preferred by all parties involved. I assume you are part of the Alliance here? Our Company, Cobalt Company, has been here for the past several weeks, and we have come to reacquaint ourselves, as we have been stationed in Valiance Keep. Are you familiar with the Company?"
Mordecai nods, smiling, and pulls the other chair out a bit more for Colson. He seems content with Colson's explanation.
"Yeah, everyone knows Cobalt Company. Blue tabards, white wings." Eileen grins. "You're a mercenary now, Mordecai?"
"Mmhm." Mordecai smiles at her. He gives off the impression of being genuinely at ease in her presence, relatively speaking.
Colson sits gracefully.
"So, does this mean—" Eileen starts.
Mordecai holds up a hand. "Don't ask," he says, as if he knows exactly what the question is going to be.
Eileen just grins at them and drops the sentence easily. "You two want anything to drink?" she asks instead.
"No, thank you," Colson says politely.
"I'm all right. No thank you." Mordecai shakes his head. "Have you been well?"
"I have, actually." Eileen sounds very pleased to be able to announce this. "There haven't been any incidents. You weren't worried about me, were you?"
"No, but that's good to hear. I admit I've had other things on my mind," Mordecai says.
"Oh, I'll bet." Eileen looks pointedly at Colson, then back at Mordecai.
"The potential destruction of the world of the plans of the Burning Legion's intended catastrophic emergence through the Sunwell did take a weekend, and we have been on and off preoccupied with the current invasion against the forces of darkness," Colson says, so extremely seriously that it's almost impossible to tell if he's joking or not. His face does continue to just look like that, as if he's stepped off a steamy book cover about paladins.
Mordecai blushes, ducking his head.
"No rest for the shiny, huh?" Eileen grins at him, and then blinks as a word sinks in. "Shit, were you there? At the Sunwell? Er, pardon." Eileen clears her throat.
"Yes, Cobalt Company assisted the Shattered Sun operation, and Mordecai and I were among the efforts," Colson confirms.
Eileen whistles, shaking her head. "Damn. I heard that got dangerous. I thought you were gonna retire and make fancy wine or something, Mordecai, not go into the mercenary business."
"They needed healers," Mordecai says simply. "I'm happy where I am now, doing what I do."
Colson's expression softens at that, as he smiles gently at Mordecai.
Mordecai smiles back at Colson. It's the standard Mordecai incredibly sappy happy in love smile.
"That's what matters," Eileen says firmly. "Congratulations."
Colson inclines his head in agreement.
Mordecai leans over and asks Colson in a lower voice, "Do you want to see your brother? While we're here?"
"We should, yes," Colson answers a slightly different question. "Do you know where he is currently?" He asks Eileen.
Mordecai's smile fades. He clearly caught that distinction, but he nods.
"My best guess? If he's not in the stables, he might be in his quarters in the keep. That man doesn't know the meaning of relaxation." There's an exasperated sort of fondness in Eileen's tone.
"Amadeus is very committed to the Alliance," Colson says diplomatically. "And fond of horses."
"Both true," Eileen agrees, sounding amused. "Nice meeting you, Colson. You take care of Mordecai, now. He's one of the good ones."
Mordecai gets up, pushing his chair in. "I'm staying at Valiance Keep these days. You can write to me if you need, Eileen."
"It is my greatest privilege to do so," Colson replies to Eileen, sincerity ringing in his voice. "Light be with you."
Eileen smiles at Mordecai and gives Colson an approving nod. "Damn right. Uh, pardon. Darn right."
Mordecai smiles back. "Take care." He holds a hand out for Colson.
Colson takes it gently as he stands with the same grace as before, which is made only slightly impressive given that he's in full plate.
Mordecai steers the two of them out of the inn, relaxing slightly as the door shuts again behind them even though he's stepped back out into the cold air. Moving out of the way of the door, Mordecai asks, "Do you actually want to see your brother, Colson?"
Colson attempts to side step the answer to that particular question, suggesting another answer altogether, as he says, "It will not be for long. Amadeus is likely busy, and there will be little time for much more than a quick greeting, but it would be good to see him to be able to inform Cressidha that he is doing well. Neither of us were able to hear where he would be prior to Cobalt leaving for Northrend, and the state of the mail has extended that. I was unaware he was here. We should likely check the stables first as they are closer."
Mordecai steps in closer, lowering his voice. "If you don't want to see him, we don't have to, love."
Colson smiles faintly, as he sets another hand briefly over Mordecai's. "I know," he agrees, as he starts for the stables, looking for a familiar figure, the paladin's posture so rigidly perfect and precise that it suggests that he might be using some metal rod trickery to accomplish it.
Mordecai sighs and follows along. "Do I look presentable enough?" he asks, reaching up to touch his own hair. It's a hopelessly curly mess at the moment.
Colson looks over, moving his hand up touch near the same place, a fond, sweet look in his eyes as he brushes the leather of his gauntlet against a windblown curl. "You look beautiful, darling," he says, clearly with no bias whatsoever. "Wonderful."
"I know you don't lie to me, but I'm starting to suspect you may be a little biased," Mordecai says fondly.
Colson smiles gently. "I love you," he agrees. "But if I truly believed it would be unwise to greet my eldest brother in a particular state, I would offer an alternative, darling. I admit he might not realize you are the most beautiful thing in all of Azeroth, but I suspect that is likely more to do with me than him," Colson says, that faint sound of teasing in his voice, directed at himself as usual.
Mordecai smiles back and seems to relax further. "All right."
A short inspection of the stables reveals that Amadeus is not there, although his horse is.
Colson's shoulders seem more tense at the confirmation, as he turns his attention to the keep. Greeting his high ranking military eldest brother in the middle of an Alliance stronghold while Colson is on his day off from his mercenary company job. This is fine. Ha ha any way.
Colson inhales slowly, as he starts for the keep, looking for one of the footman to hail.
"Pardon me, may I ask where Lieutenant Commander Aspenwood is staying? I am his younger brother, Colson Aspenwood," Colson explains, kind of unnecessarily, given that he looks like a younger, slightly shinier copy of Amadeus.
It is easy enough for Colson to obtain directions to Amadeus's quarters after a little bit of asking around. The family resemblance is obvious.
Mordecai pulls his hood up and sticks very close to Colson's side, keeping his head down.
When they arrive at the designated quarters, Colson knocks in the same way he always does, with a particular cadence that suggests a polite notice of a person's presence, the loudness of it intended only to be just enough to be heard easily within a standard room. The sense that he's the one awaiting a surprise inspection from a superior officer, rather than dropping in on his older brother without notice is written in a dozen subtle ways in his body language, from the angle of his head to the stiffness of his shoulders.
Mordecai, although he keeps ahold of Colson's hand, steps almost fully behind him as Colson knocks.
"Come in." That's definitely Amadeus's voice.
Colson opens the door, and steps inside — as ordered—. "Good afternoon, Amadeus," Colson says, as if it not extraordinary that he's just there, in the middle of Northrend, on a Wednesday afternoon.
Lieutenant Commander Amadeus Aspenwood is sitting with flawless posture at a writing desk, a report in his left hand that he places down on the desk as Colson enters. He is not wearing armor, but the formal dress uniform he wears might as well be armor for how pristine it looks on him. He is seated in such a way that the lamp on the desk casts a golden glow on his profile as he turns to look at his brother. "Colson?" There is very mild surprise in his tone.
It is immediately obvious that Amadeus has gained a new and very visible scar since the last time the two of them saw each other. This one cuts through his right eyebrow. It seems to have healed as much as it will ever heal, and there is a portion of his eyebrow where the hairs will likely never grow back.
Colson blinks once at the new scar, and it might not be just the trick of the lighting that his right hand seems brighter, as there's the start of an automatic [Flash Heal] that Colson halts, when it becomes obvious that there's no wound to actually heal any longer. "Yes," Colson answers, unnecessarily, and there's a sense that he's only just barely cut the 'sir,' at the end. "Forgive me for interrupting. Mordecai and I were in the area to re-establish contact with some of Cobalt Company's operations here. I was informed you were stationed here." A pause and there's a faint flicker in his face as his voice gentles with genuine concern. "Have you been well?"
It's a small office, but there is one other chair by the door. Amadeus turns, standing politely, and gestures for Colson to enter. Either he hasn't noticed Mordecai hiding behind Colson or he's just decided not to greet the priest for some reason. It might be that he's still taking in the fact that his brother is suddenly here.
"The interruption is no intrusion, truly. I am pleased to see you alive and well. I have received quite a few reports regarding Cobalt Company's activities in the region, although your name and Cressidha's have not come up in them." This is probably because Colson and Cressidha have been working on the other side of the continent. "I have been well, thank you. What of you and your husband?"
Looking Colson over, Amadeus seems to actually register Mordecai's presence this time. "Ah. Chaplain, forgive me, I didn't see you there."
"Mordecai, Cressidha, and I have been stationed at Valiance Keep, in the Borean Tundra," Colson explains, as he moves into the room at the gesture, his body language stiff. "We have been well, and in good health."
Mordecai steps inside with Colson, and as he does, he sheds the posture of trying to make themselves as small and unnoticed as possible as quickly as if it were never there. He stands up straight, exactly the same height as Colson, and nods to Amadeus.
Amadeus nods back to Mordecai and continues to address his brother. "Cressidha did not accompany you today?"
"No, she is currently occupied with overseeing a tailoring commission for the wife of Sir Dane Atley of Cobalt Company’s Blue Squad," Colson says, leaving the details vague as to why Ivri suddenly needs new clothes. "Do you have any recent information as to where Bertrand has been sent? I understand there is a concentrated effort to establish another outpost in the northeast here, Fort Wildevar."
Amadeus nods slightly. "The 11th Expeditionary Unit has been sent to Wintergarde Keep in the Dragonblight region."
"I see. The Company was contacted recently by some of the Argent Crusade in regards to that region recently. I understand there are multiple concerns as to how precisely to proceed," Colson says calmly. There's a faint tension around his eyes that suggests some worry, despite the even tone of his voice.
Amadeus blinks as his attention shifts to Colson and Mordecai's linked hands. He nods again. "The mail is inconsistently functional again, it seems. I received a letter from our parents frozen solid in ice, and I am unable to turn to the second page." This is what constitutes a funny story for Amadeus, delivered with a perfectly straight face.
"Oh, dear," Colson says, and there's both genuine commiseration as well as a light humor to his voice. "I wonder if Cressidha may be able to do anything with such, if the ice's stubbornness is arcane in nature, rather than its nature is simply stubborn." A beat. "Hm. Knowing Cressidha, actually, that distinction may not matter."
Amadeus smiles - it's subtle, but it's there. "A priest has already attempted to dispel the ice, to no avail, although I have not yet had a mage check if it is cursed. If you would care to take it to her…" He pulls a cloth-wrapped rectangular bundle from a desk drawer and offers it out to Colson. It feels cold.
"Colson's squad is partially responsible for the return of the mail," Mordecai says proudly. "They worked with the Kirin Tor to, um, stabilize a rift inside Malygos' domain, the Nexus."
"Oh?" Amadeus raises a brow, studying both of them with curiosity. "Is that so? Well done."
Colson takes the mail with a gauntleted hand, weighing it thoughtfully. At the praise he immediately demurs, "It was predominantly the combined efforts of the archmage Berninand of the Kirin Tor, Miss Gwenivene Whittle of the Kirin Tor and Cobalt Company, and Cressidha, but Blue Squad did provide the necessary field support to gain access to the rift for the temporary measures with the Interdimensional Refabricator. I did assist with the operation." There's something about his tone that makes it sound like Colson was more of a traffic guard with a Stop sign rather than one of the people who took down an entire enraged red dragon, but okay Colson.
The letter feels about as heavy as a rectangular block of ice wrapped in cloth would.
"And your squad, Chaplain?" Amadeus asks. It's a polite question that immediately gives away his unfamiliarity with Cobalt Company's structure.
"I-I don't have one," Mordecai says quickly.
"There are only two forward squads of five people each, a five person team that remains localized in the EK, and the rest is generalized. We are not the army," Colson says, and there's a gentle insistence in his voice, even as he lets go of Mordecai's hand to carefully place the letter in a bag, rotating it 45 degrees and then back again. "Mordecai is the Company's Chaplain, to provide support and counseling as needed for the near hundred of people who work in the Company."
When Colson lets go of Mordecai's hand, Mordecai shifts so that he's resting a gloved hand on Colson's armored upper arm instead.
"I see." Amadeus inclines his head, looking the two of them over again. "I have work to see to, but I will be here for the foreseeable future, should you have need of me."
"Of course," Colson says, and it sounds like a rote phrase with no belief behind it. The mail secured, he picks up Mordecai's hand again to hold, and perhaps reflexively brings it to his heart as he raises his other with a [Greater Blessing of Kings] for his older brother. "Light be with you, Amadeus." That sounds genuine, and sincerely meant.
"Light be with you," Mordecai echoes.
"And with you two as well." Amadeus nods, sitting down at his desk again.
Mordecai backs out of the room at the first available polite opportunity.
Colson doesn't bow, and doesn't salute, which seems to throw him off a little, but he inclines his head politely, and exits the room, closing the door very gently behind him.
Something in Mordecai's posture eases as the door is shut, and he tugs on Colson's hand, walking a bit down the hallway so they're no longer standing right outside Amadeus' door before he whispers, "I think that went well?"
"Hm? Oh, yes, of course. Amadeus is always agreeable and respectful," Colson says, but that tightness in his shoulders remains, and there's a slight tension around his mouth. "Shall we return to the inn and inquire about the whereabouts of anyone in particular? I expect White Squad to be in Wildevar at this point, but the rest may still be here."
Mordecai nods slowly, but he stops walking, actually moving into Colson's path, leaning in much closer. "Is something bothering you?"
"I am fine, love," Colson says, helpfully, as he brings up Mordecai's hand for a brief, polite peck on the back of his gloved hand. "I admit to some concerns, but they are predominantly related to the members of White Squad, due to recent experiences, but I have no immediate concerns otherwise."
"Let's check and see where they are, then?" Mordecai leans in, pressing his cheek against Colson's for a moment before pulling back.
Colson smiles gently at Mordecai, his expression growing softer, before continuing back towards the inn, his posture still rigid as if he's worried that if he is even a millimeter off from perfection that the leylines will explode.
Mordecai smiles back and accompanies Colson to the inn without further complaint.
Time Passes
Colson makes his way to Cressidha's room like a man with a priority mission and a sacred task all at once in playing courier with his brother's mail.
Mordecai trails along. He looks a little tired after the gryphon ride back, but he hasn't said a word of complaint.
The door is shut, but Cressidha is probably in there.
Colson knocks on the door with the exact same knock as before.
"Colson?" Does Cressidha just know? Probably. "It's unlocked."
Colson opens the door, a faint smile on his face. "Good evening. I hope I am not interrupting?"
Cressidha looks over. "Not at all." She is stretched out on the bottom bunk with her sketchbook, but she sets it aside and stands. "How are you?"
"I am well, thank you. I hope things have been going well with the commission? We have recently returned from an excursion to the Howling Fjord. Amadeus is stationed there," Colson reports.
Cressidha nods. "Is he really? I suppose I should have expected, given that he isn't here. Did you encounter him?"
"Yes, we stopped to pay our respects," Colson says, and there's a flicker of something in his face. "He was in his quarters at the Keep, and busy, but he made some time. He recently received a letter from mother and father, but the mail has altered it somewhat. I thought you might take a look at it and see if you could perhaps lend your expertise?" Colson removes the letter from his bag carefully, holding it out for Cressidha to take in a perhaps unconscious mirror of the same way Amadeus held it out to him.
"Certainly." Cressidha steps forward to accept the bundled-up letter from him and takes it over to the desk.
The cloth sticks to the ice as Cressidha tries to unwrap it. "What did he say the problem was?"
"Ice." Colson gestures to the cloth. "The first page is legible through it, but the rest it seems has stuck together. A priest was not able to dispel that magic, if it is so, and I cannot feel anything in particular that I could possibly aid with. All I can tell is that it is not, at present, a polymorphed sheep in disguise," he says and there's that little teasing note in his voice.
Cressidha laughs and tugs at the cloth a little harder. It remains stuck to the letter. "I'll see what I can do," she promises.
Colson inclines his head. "He expects to be stationed at Westguard for the foreseeable future, so if you would like to see him, regardless of the success with the letter, he is there. Bertrand has been sent further inland, into Dragonblight, to Wintergarde Keep."
"That's good to know," Cressidha says diplomatically, without any elaboration on whether or not she would like to see her older brother.
Colson's expression goes softer, and there's a look in his eyes that speaks a few volumes of Colson. "Yes. Well, White Squad is also still predominantly in Westguard. Wildevar is new enough that there are not yet significant accommodations at present. Most are commuting by gryphon to assist the establishment of the outpost."
"That's also good to know," Cressidha says, somehow with more enthusiasm. She smiles. "I'll have to see what it's like out there."
"It's nice," Mordecai mumbles from behind Colson. Oh! Surprise! He's still here.
Colson turns to look over his shoulder with a gentle smile. "Yes. It is rather pretty." The scenery? Maybe.
Cressidha sits down at the desk, heat emanating from her hands as she begins to warm the ice block up very gradually. "Oh, good evening, Mordecai. Did you need any more hot water for today?"
"Oh, um…" Mordecai hesitates, looking at Colson.
Colson's brows raise slightly. If he has a strong opinion on hot water, it's not evident in his face.
Mordecai leans forward and whispers to Colson, "Do you want me to wash your hair later?"
Cressidha waits, patiently, for an answer. The patience is probably because she's doing something else.
"Oh," Colson says, and it's impossible to miss the warm sound of interest in the syllable, even spoken fairly quietly. "Ah, yes." That's said even lower, but the fact that he self-consciously clears his throat after does not, actually, better obscure the nature of the conversation so much as potentially highlight it.
While Cressidha likely mentally deletes the past few seconds, Colson says, "Hot water would be appreciated." And does not elaborate on why.
"Yes, please," Mordecai requests. "I'll just go get something to put it in…" Annnnd he's gone, fleeing downstairs.
Cressidha laughs, shaking her head. "Did he just run?"
Colson is still watching Mordecai with a too obviously dreamy smile. "Hm? Oh, ah. Well." He clears his throat again. "I trust Lady Atley is doing well? We have a shipment of fresh fruit and vegetables that should be coming with the next ship for her, that we hope will be more reliably palatable over the fish."
"Oh, she'll like that, I suspect. She's sick of fish." Cressidha smiles. "She's still climbing all over the place, as she does, so I suspect she's well."
Colson, perhaps unconsciously, glances up into the rafters of the inn room, his eyes on the shadows for a moment. "I am glad to hear it," he says mildly.
Ivrianna is not there. Probably. Or maybe she is, and she's really well-hidden. Who can say. But she probably isn't there.
Cressidha follows Colson's gaze upwards. "I feel like if she were in the room, she would have gotten bored and come down to chat by now."
"I suppose that may depend slightly on if you've been talking to yourself while designing," Colson says, and there's almost a tease in his voice at it, but not quite. It sounds too much like Colson thinks Cressidha is interesting enough to hold an assassin's attention with vague muttering for hours. He smiles gently. "It is good to see that she has been re-establishing more connections outside of her, ah, profession, once more. Do give her my regards the next time you see her?"
Cressidha nods. "I shall, of course."
Mordecai returns with a heavy-looking basin of icy cold water not long after. He's moving far more slowly now, because the water is heavy.
Colson steps politely out of the way, although the way his hands lift somewhat suggests he's aborted a motion to take the heavy object by habit.
The procedure that comes next seems routine enough that it's likely happened a few times before: Mordecai brings the basin in and sets it down on the desk. Cressidha switches her focus from the book to the water, and over the course of about a minute, heats it up to the point where a faint steam rises off of the surface of the bowl. "Be careful, that's hot," she warns Mordecai as Mordecai picks up the water again.
"I know. Thank you." Mordecai inches carefully out of the room.
Colson smiles gently at the process like he's witnessing something precious, happiness visible in his eyes. At the conclusion, he gives Cressidha another warmer smile. "Do not forget to go downstairs for real food, if you have not yet today," he says with that tone of an older brother, despite the reality of their ages. "If you would like, I can always bring something up if you would rather not break your stride."
"I ate lunch." Cressidha looks in the direction of the window. Time has passed since lunch. "Ah. Well. I'll get something in a little while, it's fine." She attempts to peel the cloth away from the solid block of ice that supposedly contains a letter and actually manages to unstick a corner this time.
Colson gives her a brotherly look that contains that sense of a threat that he will possibly check on her later if he suspects that her "in a little while" has become "tomorrow morning's breakfast should be fine," but he nods. "Very well. Good luck," he says, as he starts for the door, passing a [Blessing of Might] over the mage. Go go paladin funded strong attack fingers.
"Thank you," Cressidha says, smiling.
Colson pauses at the door, a faint frown on his face, and he inhales a deep breath before he asks, "Cressidha?"
"Yes, Colson?"
"You do know that if I say so, that if you need anything you have only to ask, that I do mean that it would make me happy to help you, that there is nothing I would find more important than doing so, if you did need anything?" Colson asks, turning to look over his shoulder at her, an expression on his face that makes him seem much younger than he usually does.
"Yes, of course," Cressidha says, blinking at him. She actually gets up from the desk and moves over to her brother, offering him a hug even though he's still in plate armor.
Colson accepts it carefully, and there's a sense of another blessing in the gesture. There's a brief pause before he drops a light, brotherly kiss down to her hair, and lets go after an appropriate time. "Good," he says, and some of the tension around his eyes relaxes, as he opens the door to leave.
"The same holds true for you as well," Cressidha says firmly. "You or Mordecai. Now go help him carry that water before he drops it."
Mordecai has already made it partway up the next flight of stairs.
Colson inclines his head, closing the door quietly behind him. He makes his way up the stairs with deceptive speed — using his height to his advantage to clear the stairs faster, without seeming to rush or run. "I shall get the door," he says to Mordecai, unnecessarily because Mordecai is not telekinetic.
Mordecai steps to one side, holding the basin carefully, to allow Colson to pass on ahead of him. "Thank you."
Colson passes by Mordecai, his eyes flicking up and down Mordecai with open appreciation, before he turns his attention to his task of Open Door. He gets out his key, unlocks it, and opens it with a quick glance throughout the room before he steps aside to hold the door for Mordecai.
Mordecai smiles at him and moves inside, carrying the basin carefully over to the table and setting it down. He exhales slowly, rubbing at his arms. "Made it," he says proudly. He didn't spill any water.
Colson closes the door gently behind him. He begins immediately removing his gauntlets as he gets in closer to Mordecai. "Well done. Welcome home," he says as he leans in.
"Just one moment." Mordecai sets his bag down on top of the table and removes his gloves. "There." With those preliminary tasks done, he leans in to kiss Colson.
Colson holds patiently in place, with no sense of urgency to him. His gauntlets set into their bag, his hands go to Mordecai's face to gently cup each side, as Colson makes a soft sound at the contact. Colson still feels warm, as if he's been sitting in front of a fire for the past several hours.
Mordecai hums into the kiss and reaches for the straps of the pauldrons. "May I?"
"Yes," Colson says, his voice lower and softer.
Mordecai smiles at him and begins to alternate between project one: kiss his husband and project two: remove armor.
Colson seems very fond of this particular version of Remove Armor, not even remotely in a hurry to hasten it along.
It takes some time for Mordecai to complete both projects, but when he does, he asks, "Do you want to eat dinner now or later?" This is definitely a question about food.
"Later," Colson says. "Unless you would prefer sooner." He looks at the water.
Mordecai removes his boots, leaning them up against the wall, and then his cloak, hanging it up on the hook by the door. "I'd like to change first, but then I can wash your hair, if you'd like," Mordecai offers.
"Yes, please." Colson seems very interested in this sequence of events, despite the fact that there doesn't seem to be any immediate reason or necessity for it. There's not even any blood in it.
Mordecai returns to Colson for his 'I am going all the way across the room away from you' goodbye touch, which is in this case a kiss on the cheek. "Grab what we need for it, then? I'll just be a minute." He crosses to the wardrobe (all the way across the room, so far away, the farthest) to remove and hang up his robe for the day.
Colson pays significantly more attention to Mordecai than his task, but he does assemble the necessary components of washing hair: shampoo, towels, wide toothed comb, etc. And then he very helpfully assists with making sure he doesn't get any water on his shirt by removing it entirely. Colson is very mindful that way.
Mordecai changes out his undershirt and pants for a different (clean) undershirt and different (more comfortable) pants. He starts looking through the wardrobe for shirts, makes the mistake of glancing over at Colson, and promptly forgets what he was doing. "Oh." He shuts the wardrobe and automatically starts back towards Colson before, "Oh, right."
Mordecai doubles back to his own nightstand to take off his jewelry - except for the wedding ring, which he never removes. "Sorry. Be right there."
Colson settles back into the chair by the basin of water, a small towel around his neck, as he raises his arms up to lace his fingers together and rest them on the back of his head. That this does things to his arms and upper chest is surely coincidence. "Take your time," Colson says in a low voice, watching Mordecai as if he's the most fascinating person in the room.
Mordecai blinks and walks in a straight line to try to return to Colson. This means he walks directly into the bed and looks down at it, baffled as to how it possibly got there.
Colson's brows move in a mild concern. "Are you alright?"
Mordecai laughs and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'm fine," he mumbles, and crawls across the bed to get to Colson. Still in a straight line.
Colson's breathing picks up a notch, as he shifts a little restlessly in the chair, his eyes on Mordecai's face. The way Colson tilts his chin up, and a subtle movement of his chest, makes it seem as though he's issuing a silent invitation to come closer, as if Mordecai was headed in any other direction.
Mordecai stops next to Colson's chair, rests a hand on the table for balance, and leans down for a kiss. "Distracting," he says like it's a compliment.
Colson moves his left hand out from behind his head to thread his fingers through Mordecai's curls to hold onto him gently as he murmurs, "Oh, am I?" In a voice that doesn't even pretend that he doesn't know that he is. He sounds pleased, and the smile curling his lips remains even as he returns the kiss.
Mordecai hums affirmatively into the kiss, and a moment later adds, "Very."
Colson grins, wide enough his eyes crinkle faintly at the edges, as he lets his hand drift down to brush his knuckles across Mordecai's cheek. He seems to just be looking over Mordecai's face, before he puts his other arm down, resting his hand over his Fear Ward tattoo. He touches Mordecai's nose in a little, gentle boop with his left hand. "Later." It sounds like a promise.
Mordecai goes momentarily cross-eyed at the nose boop. He smiles at Colson and reaches for the comb first. "How was your day?" he asks as he starts very gently and carefully combing through Colson's hair.
Colson chuckles, quiet and deep, at the brief cross eyes. "Wonderful," Colson answers, looking at Mordecai with a soft expression.
Mordecai sighs happily. "I love getting to see new places with you." He sets the comb down and dips a washcloth in the water, checking the temperature. "I feel like I'm forgetting something."
Colson makes a soft "hm" sound, tilting his head up a little. Maybe it's kissing Colson again. Who can say?
Mordecai shakes his head. "It's probably nothing urgent," he decides, and brushes a quick kiss against Colson's lips before standing up straight again. He moves the basin of water closer to the edge of the table. "Lean forward for me, love," Mordecai requests in a tone that is very familiar by now: not a demanding order, but a very expectant request.
Colson closes his eyes on a slow, soft sigh at the tone, obeying immediately, and some lingering tension in his shoulders melts away.
"That's right. There you go." Mordecai squeezes excess water out of the washcloth and uses it to wet Colson's hair, very methodically. "The temperature isn't too hot, is it?"
"No," Colson confirms. "It feels wonderful." The water? Or Mordecai touching his hair? It's unclear.
Mordecai bounces back, "You're wonderful," almost automatically. Shampoo time. Oh look, it's even more of Mordecai touching Colson's hair. "What did you have to ask your sister about at the end, there?"
"Oh," Colson says, and there's a pause. "I wanted to be certain that she knew that if she needed anything, that I would be pleased to do so, and that there is nothing I would consider more important to do if she needed me." There's something slightly fragile in his tone, the mild calm of his voice cupping around it like his hands over a spark.
"What did she say?" Mordecai asks, leaning a little closer.
"That she knows, of course," Colson says gently, a faint smile on his face. "And that it is the same for me, although, I admit there was no doubt in my mind of it."
"You two are very close," Mordecai says a little wistfully. "Close your eyes, darling." He rinses his own hands off in the bowl and then picks up a small cup, dipping it into the water. Rinsing time. "You know I would too, right? If you needed anything I could help with."
Colson reaches up a hand unerringly to touch Mordecai's cheek, as if even with his eyes closed, he knows exactly where Mordecai is. "You always do and always have, my love."
"You deserve it," Mordecai says very sincerely.
Colson smiles with his eyes closed, brushing his thumb gently across Mordecai's cheek before he lowers his hand again, setting it over his right on his tattoo. "I believe you."
Mordecai finishes rinsing out Colson's hair. Conditioner time. Is this entire process just a lengthy excuse to touch Colson's hair a lot? Absolutely. "Cressidha doesn't ask for very much, does she."
"She has always been independent, and determined, like Mother." Colson exhales slowly, not quite a sigh. "It can be difficult for her to admit when she needs help from someone else, and not rely on herself and her own will to succeed." There's a slight pause before he adds, a hint of amusement in his voice, "I do not truly count as 'someone else.'"
Mordecai sighs. "It must be very special, having a twin." He sounds wistful, not jealous.
"Well, I admit I am likely quite biased in thinking so. I have the best one," Colson says and the lightness of it that suggests he's half-joking, but the other half is a brother's love, sincere and truly biased.
"Or maybe Cressidha has the best one," Mordecai teases, the smile audible in his voice.
Colson smiles gently back. "I have always known with complete certainty that she would never trade me for any other as her twin. When I stood in the Light and felt its full grace, that sense that it could accept me completely for all that I am, I knew it to be true, and familiar, for I had always known what such absolute love felt like, because of her."
"Mmm…" Mordecai leans all the way down to kiss Colson's shoulder. "Lean forward again, love, I'm going to rinse this out." As forewarned, Mordecai dips the cup back into the water.
Colson leans forward.
Mordecai pours water carefully over his hair, one cup at a time. "You don't seem as close… to Amadeus."
"Ah. No. Amadeus, as the eldest, was always much closer to Mother and Father. There is rather a large gap in age with us and him, and he left to join the Alliance army when we were still quite young."
"I see. So you never got to know each other that well, as adults…?"
Colson makes a 'hm' sound. "Not particularly. He has always maintained a dutiful correspondence, as do we all, but he and I were never stationed close by, or in the same operations, of course."
Mordecai hums thoughtfully. He sets the cup down and begins to comb Colson's hair out again. "You can sit up again, love. So today's visit was out of… obligation?"
"I love my brother," Colson says gently as he sits up, his abs doing things with the motion, shifting his hands to clasp them lightly together in his lap. "It is always good to know that he doing well. It is not merely an obligation to see him. It is more that it is…" Colson exhales slowly, opening his eyes to look down at his hands. "Difficult to see him in such a context, waiting and wondering if I shall see the disappointment in his eyes when he looks at me now."
"Disappointment?" Mordecai pushes the basin of water back towards the center of the table, just so it's less likely to spill, and leans against the table. "Why would he be disappointed in you, sweetheart?"
"Amadeus has devoted his life to the Alliance army." Colson's lashes flicker. "And I abandoned it. I left, for personal reasons, that which he has often shown he values above all things. It is easier, when we are at home, and we can simply look across and see only a brother. But here, in armor, it is far clearer that he is wearing a uniform that I am not and likely never will again. I cannot think that it likely that he is happy to see it."
Mordecai sets the comb down and takes Colson's face in both hands, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "You didn't abandon the army, Colson. You put in a request and were honorably discharged. Does it feel like that to you? Like you abandoned the army?"
"It was a necessary decision, and I do not regret it," Colson answers. "I went through proper channels. It was not through any personal recommendation by a superior officer. It was highly discouraged. I had to insist. Repeatedly."
Mordecai says quietly, "Has Amadeus ever expressed that disappointment to you, before?" He remains more or less on eye level with Colson.
"We have spoken only three times in the past two years since my discharge from the army, including today," Colson says. "He congratulated us at our wedding, wished Cressidha and I happy birthday, and you were witness to today's. Amadeus is always cordial, and polite. He would not find the first two of these such circumstances an appropriate time to address such a personal matter of his feelings on a subject such as the ending of my military career. Today was the first real chance of it."
"And you were afraid he might, today." Mordecai straightens up, reaching for the towel. "Do you want me to dry it…?"
"Yes," Colson says and then leans closer to Mordecai and repeats, if in a very different tone, "Yes."
"Of course." The process of drying Colson's hair off, as Mordecai has learned to do it, involves carefully squeezing the moisture out of it with a towel one section at a time, and Mordecai is very, very slow at this. It's not his own hair and he doesn't want to pull, so he is painstakingly careful. He has not gotten any faster at this procedure at all over the past several months.
"If you ask me, he didn't seem disappointed," Mordecai says quietly.
Colson's relaxation seems to be much more because of the handling of his hair than the words. He makes a faint 'hm' sound.
Mordecai shakes his head. "He seemed lonely. But he always has."
Colson reaches out a hand to Mordecai's face. "Yes. We had hoped with Lady Gardenia, it would change, but Amadeus takes after Mother more than any of us. Amadeus has chosen his path, repeatedly, and we cannot force him to ask us for more. The Alliance is his life's work."
The towel-drying continues. "Yes, it is," Mordecai agrees. "I know that much."
"I was a part of it. And now I am not. I am still his brother. I do not doubt that he cares for me as family. But I cannot help but feel that he was disappointed in my decision, even if he has come to accept it."
"He may have been," Mordecai says quietly. "But it was still the right choice for you to leave, and I'm proud of you for making that decision." Mordecai taps Colson's left shoulder. "Turn so I can reach the other side, please."
Colson turns at the touch.
Mordecai moves closer to the table, leaning against it as he starts towel-drying the right side of Colson's hair. "I always used to find him intimidating. Now… I don't know."
Colson makes a soft sound.
"He's just got so much presence." Mordecai shakes his head. "Was he always like that?"
"As long as I have known him, yes."
"Mmm." Mordecai sighs and goes quiet until he finishes the hair-drying process. He wraps the towel around Colson's shoulders, on top of the other, smaller towel, holding it in place as if Colson might be cold. "How's that?"
Colson smiles at Mordecai and makes a faint humming sound. "Lovely." He reaches up for Mordecai, with gentle pressure to encourage him taking a seat. Colson's lap appears to be the offered seating arrangement. "Come here?"
Mordecai sits down sideways in Colson's lap almost before Colson has finished speaking, smiling at him. "I love getting to do that," he says, nodding vaguely towards the table.
Colson doesn't necessarily need to even speak out loud: the change in him isn't just dry hair to wet. There's a deep sense of relaxation to him, his expression soft and happy, and his eyes darker. Nevertheless, he says, "I love it. The feeling of your touch, that tone of voice, everything." Colson leans forward, his eyes on Mordecai's. "Beautiful."
"Tone of voice?" There's a pause. "Ah. You mean this tone of voice," Mordecai says in the tone of voice in question.
Colson's expression goes warmer, and this close, the tiny widening of his pupils is visible. "Yes."
Mordecai clears his throat. "I didn't realize I was using it."
"I confess, it is remarkably appealing," Colson says, pressing a slow kiss to Mordecai's available shoulder, holding eye contact. "It makes me wish very much to do exactly as you ask."
That might not be news to Mordecai, but he seems pleased to hear it nonetheless. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."
"Ah. I expect it is probably unwise for any paladin to love himself so completely, with such deep adoration for all that he is and all he will be, to think himself the best and most precious in the world," Colson says lightly, but there is a depth of feeling in his eyes. "I shall have to entrust such wondrous love to you, darling, and strive to show you in return how remarkable you are."
"True, although not quite what I was thinking at that moment in time," Mordecai admits. He brushes some of Colson's still somewhat damp hair away from his face and leans in for a kiss.
Colson chuckles, as he meets Mordecai in the middle, kissing him slowly, and wrapping both arms around him in a way that will make it very easy to lift him up to carry him anywhere he wishes to go.
Mordecai wraps his free arm around Colson's shoulders to hold on, just in case. "Mm? Are we relocating?" This has apparently happened before.
"If you would like." Colson doesn't appear to be in any hurry, at least some of his attention on kissing along Mordecai's cheek up to his temple.
"I'm just a little cold," Mordecai admits. He is also wearing a sleeveless undershirt in Northrend. That might have something to do with it.
Colson, who is wearing a towel around his shoulders as a shirt nevertheless offers, "Shall I warm you up, then?"
"Yes, please." Mordecai smiles at him.
Colson smiles back, standing as he lifts Mordecai. "I do truly enjoy going places with you, even ones we have been to many times," he says as he takes them to the bed a few steps away.
Mordecai looks down at the destination in question and laughs.