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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | Mordecai asks Colson to head out into Dalaran to be out and about in the city. After an unexpected holy skill manifests, the young men buy a future for their garden, and take a deeper look at what this particular skill is, and what it represents. Colson ups the rating. 11k words of Romance RP. |
| Rating: | A for Adults Only 18+ |
Chain: Morson
It is almost noon, and Mordecai's hair is starting to curl at the ends as it dries from the shower he took earlier. He is dressed in the pair of black pants and white undershirt that he ate lunch in, and he is looking at a single pale yellow sock in his hand with confusion as he paces around the room. The other sock is nowhere to be seen.
"I just don't know where it went," Mordecai says, baffled.
"The unknowable mysteries of socks," Colson says sagely, as he helpfully moves a pillow for the second time, in case the sock somehow migrated from the last time he looked there.
The sock is still not underneath the pillow. But it could have been. Who knows with socks.
Mordecai shakes out the canopy curtain a little. No socks fall free. "It has to be somewhere," he says, not for the first time.
"Presumably," Colson agrees, turning the bed down in case the sock decided to get snuggly under the covers. "If not, we may need to register it with someone, as a warning sign of sock leyline instability across Azeroth." He sounds so serious. Too serious, which means he's joking.
Mordecai doesn't laugh. He sounds a little distressed. "It was one of your socks."
The sock is, in fact, trapped under the covers, a little crinkled but none worse for wear.
"If so, then I will not mind its loss, love. It is only a sock," Colson says gently, as he feels around in the covers for a sock. When he obtains something that is not one of the sheets, he pulls it free. "Ah, ha. The sock leylines are still secure."
"But… oh." Mordecai breaks into a faint smile. "You found it." He sits down on the edge of the bed to put the other sock on and holds a hand out for the missing one.
Colson moves to his side to set it into Mordecai's hand gently, curling his fingers over Mordecai's fingers for a moment. "If it was lost, it would still be alright. It is easily replaceable," he reassures. "And I will look at it as an opportunity that you could buy me something. Perhaps they have floral patterns for socks here in Dalaran. Or at the least, an eyeball, one would expect."
Mordecai seems more invested in holding Colson's hand than putting on the second sock, but he does, after a moment, let go and put on the second sock. "Would you want eyeball socks?" he asks skeptically.
"Perhaps. It may depend on the length of the eyelashes. Too long and it may stretch the boundaries of propriety," Colson says seriously.
This time, Mordecai laughs. He pulls his legs up to sit cross-legged and holds a hand out to Colson. "How long is too long to be proper, for eyelashes?"
Colson takes it, to gently pull Mordecai up and closer to him, a soft smile on his face. "Hm. I expect that if they are long enough to stretch from one's ankles to one's mid-calf, they are a little over long. Florals seem the safer bet."
Mordecai's eyes go unfocused. Maybe he's trying to imagine eyelashes that long. He shakes his head, smiling. "You have such pretty socks. All my old ones were always so plain."
"An indulgence of mine," Colson says easily. "It is simple to add some color without it being incorrect for the visible ensemble. And then, I know that no matter how seriously I am dressed, beneath the surface, I have bright yellow socks on."
"That's cute," Mordecai decides, smiling. He stands, moving towards the balcony door, pulling Colson along with him.
Colson follows readily, smiling a little wider.
There is a little purple curtain that hangs over the glass portion of the balcony door, and Mordecai pushes it aside to peer out for a few moments before letting it fall back into place. "The weather still looks nice. Do you think it ever rains here?"
"Given the level of vegetation below, I expect that it rains here at least, in the sense of this location. Whether any of that rain water falls upon the city I am less certain of."
Mordecai adjusts the little curtain, making certain the view of their room from outside is properly obstructed, and then turns back towards Colson, reaching out to touch his cheek. "I know socks are just things, and you wouldn't be upset with me if I lost them. I would be a little upset with me, I think, but I doubt that would last too long."
Colson leans into the touch, setting a hand over Mordecai's. "I understand. Sometimes we lose things, though. Particularly when we find ourselves a little…distracted," Colson moves in closer, his eyes drifting down Mordecai's face to his shoulders and back up. "By other things in the moment."
Mordecai clears his throat. His cheeks have gone a little pink. "Yes, well. Are you saying I can blame you the next time a sock goes missing?"
"Absolutely," Colson says without reservation. "I shall do proper penance, as needed, in such cases."
Mordecai's expression flickers. "By… finding the sock?"
"I would hope to perhaps exchange a kiss of apology, but I would listen to the prescribed requirement by my priest," Colson says softly, pressing a little more into Mordecai's hand.
"Well, you found the sock this time, so there's no need to apologize. Would you like a thank-you kiss instead?" Mordecai tilts his head.
"Yes." Colson smiles faintly, blinking slowly.
"I like those better," Mordecai says decisively, and he leans in for a very soft thank-you kiss.
Colson accepts his kiss gracefully, although he maybe adds a little extra. Maybe he's just very thankful.
Mordecai remains very close even after he's done. "Oh, that's right."
"Hm?" Colson's auto sound goes off, even as Colson moves to place another kiss to Mordecai's shoulder.
"I love you," Mordecai says happily. It works every time.
Colson laughs quietly, placing another kiss to Mordecai's shoulder, lingering in it. "Love you," he murmurs in a happy echo.
Mordecai wraps his arms around Colson's waist, pulling him into a hug. "What do you want to do today? I can probably manage some more walking before my legs give up in protest."
"Do you want to go out?" Colson asks rather than answering the question, for the moment.
"I should," Mordecai says, which isn't quite the same thing. "At least for a little while." Technically, he already went out this morning, but that was for a run.
"Hm." Colson runs his hand up and down Mordecai's back in a slow, idle motion. "Would you care to investigate any of the cafes we were informed are 'essential' to try while we are here?"
"If you'd like." Mordecai doesn't seem to have a strong opinion on the cafes. "I'd just like to spend the day with you. Wherever that might be."
"Mm," Colson looks agreeable to this. "That at least I can easily say shall happen." He seems to be considering it. "Would you like to go to the greenhouse once more?"
"If you'd like." Mordecai loosens his grip on Colson and smiles at him. "Wherever you want to go, sweetheart. I don't have a strong preference, truly, only that it's with you."
"I have nowhere in particular I wish to go," Colson admits. "If you would simply like to take another walk outside, we could do so."
"I'd like that, I think. It's a nice day." Mordecai takes a deep breath. "I'm… trying to get used to it, still. Dalaran." They've been here for a few weeks now. "Maybe… maybe, um…"
"Hm?"
"Maybe you could wear one of your sleeveless shirts?" Mordecai manages not to mumble or look away, but he still blushes.
"Of course," Colson agrees immediately, his eyes tracing the blush with a soft look.
"I can too," Mordecai decides bravely. He pats Colson's arm as he steps away, heading to the wardrobe.
The shirt Mordecai locates and switches out his undershirt to put on is a white button-down with a collar. Where another, more formal shirt might have another button close to the top of the collar, this one doesn't, giving it a slightly more casual look. It is most likely Cressidha's work, given the style and that Colson has definitely not seen it before.
Colson watches with obvious, visible interest, moving slowly to his clothing bags, because Colson never unpacks. He only has the one sleeveless option for the moment, the same well fitting black one he's worn often. He pulls it on, and it's obvious that either Colson's going to need to get Cressidha to re-tailor it, or buy up a size soon. He is still within the realm of decency, but it's right up against the edge of it.
Mordecai grabs his bag, then sits down on the floor by the wardrobe to put on a pair of shoes. "I think I'm ready to…" As he speaks, he turns to look at Colson over his shoulder and promptly forgets about the rest of that sentence.
Colson's brows raise slightly. "Hm?"
"What?" Mordecai blinks at him. "Yes?"
"You are ready to…?" Colson prompts, walking forward to Mordecai with his boots in one hand.
"Oh. Go. When you are." Mordecai finishes tying his shoelaces without taking his eyes off of Colson and stands. The knots are a little messy, but they'll hold for now.
Colson smiles faintly, watching Mordecai watch him, as he bends to put his boots on, tucking the black leather pants into them neatly. "In a moment," he says, a warm, inviting note in his voice.
Mordecai clears his throat. "There's no rush." He digs a bottle of water out from his bag and drinks some before putting it away again.
Colson straightens, and pats the bag with money and room key to be certain it's there, and automatically looks by the door where his swords are, that same hesitation in him.
Mordecai takes a step towards Colson and holds a hand out. "We're safe here, gorgeous. It's all right." At this point, he seems to realize the pet name he's just used, and he flushes a little. "We can be civilians today, can't we?"
There's a matching soft touch of color to Colson's cheekbones, and he aims a soft smile at Mordecai, taking his hand rather than one of the swords. "Yes. Civilians, today," Colson agrees. There's a slight movement of a hand towards his hip, where a sword belt would be, but he rests his hand at his side.
Mordecai pulls Colson in closer. "I don't plan to go wandering around in the sewers again, don't worry."
"If you wished to, we could," Colson says, and then hesitates again, a flicker of something passing over his face, as he pulls Mordecai's hand up for a kiss to his knuckles. "But then I would rather be in armor, just in case. Those crocolisks were…certainly a size."
"Not today." Mordecai looks down at Colson's outfit, not at all subtly. "No armor."
Colson moves his free hand to Mordecai's chin, cupping it gently as Colson leans in for a goodbye privacy kiss. "Only my shield."
Mordecai makes an approving noise into the kiss. Held at his side, the fingers of his free hand twitch a little. Restraint. Going places. It's fine. "Light, we need to get out that door," Mordecai mutters as he pulls back.
Colson chuckles, low and soft, as he lets Mordecai go enough to get the door handle. Opening door. Privacy has ended. Public begins now.
Mordecai takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long, slow exhale. He runs his free hand through his hair as he steps through the door, taking it from 'almost neat' to 'messy' again.
Colson locks the door behind them, his eyes on the prize of the hallway to the staircase.
Success! Public again. Mordecai smiles and walks side by side with Colson out of the building like a normal person who is not going to stare at his husband in public.
Maybe a little bit of staring.
In fairness, every bit of movement is drawing some attention to the shiny paladin. Colson seems perfectly at ease walking out into the city, but that is not unusual.
Dalaran in the afternoon resembles Dalaran in the morning: there's a certain level of foot traffic at all times, and there's various races walking along, ducking into shops and stopping by the street carts.
Mordecai relaxes a little once they get outside, and it doesn't take him long to find a diversion: "Look," he says, pointing at either a shapeshifted druid or a treant running a fruit cart. "They have snowplums."
"Oh?"
"Mmhm." Mordecai alters their course towards the cart. "Would you like to get some to eat later?"
"If you would like, yes," Colson says agreeably, moving with a dancer's ease into the new course.
Mordecai nods. "Yes, please." He steps up to the cart, smiling, and greets the shopkeeper in lightly-accented Darnassian. Mordecai takes his time carefully selecting six snowplums - they're rather small - while the druid-or-treant waits patiently.
Colson waits patiently.
Mordecai pays for the plums and the druid-or-treant puts them in a little mesh bag for him. "Thank you," Mordecai says politely, transferring the bag of plums into his own bag. He backs off from the cart and takes Colson's hand again, moving away.
Colson seems content to walk along, looking at the shops with no visible interest.
Mordecai spends more of the walk looking at Colson than he does looking at the shops, and he seems very content to just walk along peacefully, smiling at his husband.
Then they pass a shop that causes Mordecai to stop walking and point. "Oh. Colson, they said they sold seeds."
"Yes. Is the wild lupine variety still something you would like for the garden, if we can plant later this year?" Colson asks with that gentle sound of genuine interest.
Mordecai nods eagerly. "Yes, please. They were pretty. I, um, I like purple flowers, I think." It's the first time he's ever expressed this particular preference out loud.
"Oh?" Colson seems mildly delighted, a brightening in his expression. "Mother has always had a preference for violets. I believe she enjoys several such delicate purple flowers. We could make a part of the garden for them."
Mordecai's expression mirrors Colson's right back: delight and adoration. "You said. I remember. I'd like that. What about you?"
"It would make me happy," Colson answers honestly. Would it have made him happy if it didn't make Mordecai happy? Who can say.
"No, I meant your preferences," Mordecai says, nudging his shoulder. "For what kind of flowers you like. There's room."
"Hm." Colson shrugs his right shoulder. "I should like to see what the garden looks like in full bloom before I decide if I would like to alter it."
Mordecai has stopped in the middle of the street to have this conversation. People are walking around the two of them, and Mordecai doesn't seem to have any awareness of any of them besides Colson. "Is this how good parents feel, buying things for their children?" he asks, tilting his head.
Colson blinks. "Ah. I am not certain. You would need to ask Mother and Father," Colson says with a half-smile.
"It's sort of like that, isn't it?" Mordecai asks, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Garden planning."
Colson makes a soft hmming sound. "A little. At the moment, we have secured daycare for it, at the least," Colson says, and there's a faint note of something in his voice, a dimming in his eyes. "I will be a little disappointed to not see it coming to life this first year, but," he inhales deeply. "There will be other years. We shall buy them with the success here."
Mordecai takes Colson's face in both hands, making direct eye contact in a way that is incredibly unusual for him to do in public, much less in the middle of a somewhat busy street. He looks visibly overcome with emotion, something like longing in his eyes. "I want you to have that."
Colson sets his hands over Mordecai's, and there's a faint smile in his eyes. "Next year. And I shall have other firsts with it. The first flower seed planted with the wild lupine. We have until the fall to return home for it."
"That's what I'm fighting for, out here," Mordecai says with that same unusual level of intensity. It almost sounds like a promise or a vow of some kind.
"For that future." Colson has a gentle intensity in his gaze, a certainty of faith that there will be that future.
Mordecai nods. "Yes." There's a fierce determination to him in this moment, as he looks into Colson's eyes.
It could be a trick of the light, but for a brief second, Mordecai stands haloed in Dalaran's warm sunlight, a bright afterimage of widespread golden wings cast from his back onto the cobblestones behind him.
It could be a trick of the light, except that the crowd reacts, heads turning towards the two of them, and any who are sensitive to such things may have felt the presence of the Holy Light gathering around Mordecai.
In a moment, it's gone, and a very normal, very ordinary priest in civilian clothing starts to lower his hands, smiling a little sheepishly at Colson.
Colson looks like someone might have hit him from behind with a very large ogre club, except that, for whatever reason, he's into it. There's a stunned reverence in his expression, and more than a little obvious attraction, as he looks at Mordecai with open devotion.
The paladin moves his hands from covering Mordecai's to cup either side of Mordecai's shoulders. "Mordecai? What was that?" The question is almost whispered, as if Colson is trying not to disturb a holiness that can be spooked by loud sounds.
Mordecai clasps his hands to his chest. "Um… w-what?" He seems to have become aware that people are staring, and he inches a little closer to Colson.
Dalaran doesn't currently exist for Colson. "There was something… the Light, around you, or over you. I have never seen it before." There's that hushed whisper still to his words, a man of faith in front of a holy church sense to him.
"I don't know," Mordecai whispers back. There's a note of distress in his voice. "Colson, they're staring."
"Hm?" Colson tears his gaze from Mordecai and looks around them as if for the first time. Noticing some of the stares, Colson levels an Aspenwood Stare back, as he moves his hands off Mordecai's shoulders to his hands.
Some of the staring stops, some people continue walking, but there are still eyes on them.
Mordecai looks very fragile, and he's doing the thing he does where he tries to make himself look smaller, except that he's shrinking towards Colson rather than away.
There's a shift in Colson's bearing in response, as the Knight-Captain rises to the surface, and the sense that the young man in the sleeveless black shirt is not truly the civilian he is attempting to be. He steps a little closer to Mordecai, and the look on his face to those still trying to watch turns into a commanding glare. "Shall we keep walking?" He asks gently, that hint of an order in his tone.
Mordecai nods, a quick jerky sort of movement, looking down. He keeps a tight grip on of one of Colson's hands.
Colson moves along, walking forward in the direction of the greenhouse, with the projected attitude of someone who is not to be bothered. He is Important and he is On Business, so mind yours elsewhere.
Mordecai sticks very close to Colson's side as they walk, actually holding on to his arm with his free hand as well.
Colson keeps their pace slow and steady. "Do you know, one of my favorite flowers that comes in a purple variety is the pansy? Despite the connotations of its name, it is one of the most hardy blooming flowers. One can plant it in the cold of the early winter, and it will bloom all through to spring."
Mordecai goes, "Mm?" almost too quietly to be heard.
"The pansy. We could see if they have any of the seeds for sale, if you would like. I do not recall seeing them in the garden," Colson says, and despite the casual nature of the conversation, there's that military sharpness of a report in his voice, that soft snap of command remaining.
Mordecai nods and makes a faint noise of agreement. The two of them round the corner, towards the greenhouse, out of sight of the initial people who were staring at them. No one seems to be following them.
Colson continues on his way. "Is there any other you recall liking?"
Mordecai shrugs a little helplessly. This level of small talk might be beyond him at the moment.
Colson doesn't seem to mind. He may be talking only to be Colson Talking. "The only thing I think we should hold off on are any bulbs. I do not expect we could provide a stable enough environment while we are in Northrend to preserve them for planting."
"Mm. Mmhm." Mordecai is probably listening. He's watching their feet as they move and seems to have shut down unnecessary functions like talking in full sentences.
As soon as they get near the greenhouse, but not to it, away from storefronts, Colson moves into a small almost alcove, and he halts there, turning to face Mordecai.
Mordecai steps in close enough to hide his face against Colson's shoulder. "Are they still looking?" he whispers.
Colson moves a hand up to Mordecai's hair. "No one is here, love." The street around them is, for the moment, clear. "No one followed us."
"Sorry. Thank you." Mordecai exhales, and slowly some of the tension in his shoulders eases.
"There is nothing to apologize for," Colson says gently, and the sense of the Knight-Captain fades back, slowly but surely, the set of his shoulders shifting with Mordecai's.
Mordecai takes several deep, slow breaths. It takes him a good minute to calm down enough to stand up straighter and look at Colson's face.
Colson is in no hurry at all, breathing slowly and deeply with Mordecai, waiting patiently.
Mordecai rests his hands on Colson's shoulders. "I'm all right now. Thank you."
"Always," Colson says easily. His eyes drift again to Mordecai's shoulders, tracing lines out from them as if trying to remember a glimpse of wings.
"You said… something happened. What did it look like? What were they all staring at?" Mordecai chews on his lower lip anxiously.
"Wings," Colson says, that vague sense of dreaminess in his voice and expression. "Golden wings of Light around you."
Mordecai tilts his head, confused. "Ah… but… I wasn't trying to… I felt something, but I wasn't - I wasn't trying to reach for it."
"I have never seen such before," Colson admits. "It was…indescribably beautiful, but so brief I can almost not quite…recall it."
"I… don't want to try again out here," Mordecai says with a faint, thoughtful frown. "It drew a lot of attention. You were saying something earlier about, um, flowers?"
"Hm?" Colson has to think a moment about it. "Oh, yes, the pansy. It is one of the varieties that can be planted quite late in the year, and endures the cold rather well. They come in purple."
Mordecai's expression flickers, and he looks down. "Ah." He takes a deep breath. "They're pretty flowers."
"They are. Beautiful, strong, and enduring, no matter how delicate they seem," Colson says gently. He's not at all subtle.
"I've been called that a lot," Mordecai says quietly, and he probably doesn't mean beautiful, strong, or enduring.
Colson brushes his hand along Mordecai's hair. "The word is odd for its origin, for how it has come to be used. It originally meant 'thoughtful,' and the flower a symbol of remembering. And there are few flowers so hardy and capable as it. Would they bother you? To have them in the garden?"
Mordecai tilts his head. He seems to be giving this genuine consideration. His thumb idly traces the line of Colson's scar, back and forth, where he can reach without taking his hand off Colson's shoulder. "I don't think it would bother me," he says after some thought. "They're pretty, you like them, and they can be planted late in the year, like you said."
"I have always found them rather cute," Colson says, his voice a little lower, as he leans a little into the touch of his shoulder. "And they are pretty."
Mordecai smiles very faintly. "Mmm. All right. We can see if they have them, then."
"Shall we go and see?" Colson asks softly, tilting his head a little closer.
Mordecai nods. "Yes. Yes, let's… go and see."
Colson nods once, and moves to start walking back to the street with the aim to get to the apothecary shop part of the Egan family's plant based offerings.
As they return to the street they were previously on, a gnome pulls her goggles up on top of her head to stare at Mordecai.
Mordecai, for the time being, is busy holding Colson's hand and looking for the storefront entrance, and doesn't seem to notice.
Colson might have noticed, but he doesn't draw attention to it, as he looks for the storefront and goes to enter.
Like most buildings in Dalaran, this one has been decorated; rather than a stand-alone storefront sign, the door is shaped like a gigantic flask, complete with the appearance of bubbles rising from the 'liquid' in the flask. Mordecai looks up at them as he climbs the couple of steps towards the building and stumbles.
Colson moves to forestall a full fall of the stumble, his hand steady in Mordecai's, as he reaches his other to be ready to catch the priest if necessary.
Mordecai does grab Colson's other arm for balance, and there's a quietly muttered, "Thank you." Clearing his throat, he gets the door, holding it open for Colson.
There's a bit of lingering in the touch as Colson withdraws his arm slowly. "Of course," Colson says, as he enters into the shop.
Mordecai follows close behind him, pulling the door carefully shut afterwards.
Across from them is A Hat. It is pink. It is pointed. It is an excellent specimen of a mage's hat. Under it is a gnome woman who doesn't seem very interested in the customers, lost in her own thoughts.
Across the room to their left, a woman's voice calls, "Welcome!" Behind a glass display counter full of potions is a friendly-looking blonde human woman.
Colson nods politely to the woman. If he notices any family resemblance to those in the greenhouse, it doesn't show on his face. He probably doesn't though.
Mordecai mumbles a hello, looking down. Ordinarily, he might have been able to contend with shopping, but he doesn't seem to have fully come out of hiding mode.
The saleswoman doesn't seem to be the type to rush them, though. She's busy wiping at a smudge on the glass with a cloth.
Colson approaches the counter with the surety of purpose of someone intending to ask a direct question, and has something he is looking for. "Excuse me, may I ask if you have any wild lupine seeds in stock?"
Up close, it is more obvious that this might be Patricia Egan, mostly because she is literally wearing a nametag that says 'Patricia' in cute little loopy handwriting. "We should!" she says, turning to one of the two shelves behind her. "Let me just check for you."
"Thank you," Colson says politely.
Patricia crouches down to get to one of the shelves closer to the ground, and would disappear behind the counter if the counter weren't glass and see-through. She hums the alphabet song under her breath, stopping at what would be L as she apparently finds the seeds.
Mordecai stands just behind Colson, right hand in Colson's left, left hand wrapped around Colson's arm just above his elbow. This is his emotional support paladin.
"We are also interested in if you have any available purple pansy seeds that will keep until later in the year. We do not expect to be in a position to plant until the end of the year, pending the leyline situation," Colson says, in that calm voice that makes it seems like he's referring to some potentially inconvenient weather rather than a possibly world ending catastrophic situation.
Colson turns to look at Mordecai with a soft expression, while Patricia is occupied.
Mordecai smiles faintly back at Colson.
Patricia sets the wild lupine seeds behind her up on the counter and starts looking under P for pansy seeds. "Dark purple or light purple pansies?" she asks, holding up two conveniently-colored seed packets up over her head, half-twisting to see her customers. She's still crouched down by the shelf.
Colson raises his brows at Mordecai. "Do you have any preference in the shade?"
Mordecai shakes his head no.
"Light, please," Colson says, in a very different tone than he often says the phrase these days, smiling faintly at Mordecai.
Mordecai clears his throat for no particular reason and nods approvingly, although he would probably have been fine with either choice.
Patricia stands a moment later, setting the packet of pansy seeds down next to the packet of wild lupine seeds. "Here you are! Is this enough, or will you want more of each?"
Colson makes the little "hm?" and looks first at the seeds, then back to Mordecai. "Do you want more?"
Mordecai shakes his head and whispers to Colson, "Violets? For your mother?"
"Oh, ah," Colson leans in closer, and although he speaks low, he does not whisper. "That I shall need to procure from Stormwind. There is a particular variety she prefers. It would be better to obtain them closer to planting, and spring is the best time for them. Now, actually, would be ideal," he says with a touch of wistfulness to his voice.
"Oh." Mordecai sighs. "Maybe we should have gone home," he says, even though it's definitely too late now.
Patricia waits patiently, smiling at them.
"I do not think we would have seen them bloom at all, darling. I would rather be there for it, and grow it with you, more than simply have it there, unnoticed and unseen," Colson says quietly.
Mordecai sighs and nods. "Did you want to get anything else, Colson?"
"Do you happen to have any seeds for the paeony duchess white aster that Miss Primrose sells for purchase?" Colson asks out loud, a slight dreamy touch to his voice gone softer as he reaches up a hand to brush back some of his hair behind his ear. He turns his attention to Patricia politely at the question.
"I think so!" Patricia smiles. "Let me check!"
Mordecai blinks and looks at Colson, surprised and pleased.
"Thank you." Colson smiles gently back at Mordecai as he moves his hand to Mordecai's hair above his ear. "Then perhaps someday I may be able to see you with one as well of our own," he says to Mordecai, and there's genuine, audible warmth in his voice.
Mordecai beams at Colson, squeezing his hand once.
"Yesss!" Patricia spins around from her shelf, holding up a packet of seeds in triumph.
Colson looks over with a mild expression, already holding Mordecai's hand up to his heart in case of a startle from the sudden exclamation, as he squeezes back gently once more.
Mordecai does not startle, he just smiles. The correct seeds have been found; this is indeed a cause for celebration.
"Here you are," Patricia says, laying out the packet next to the other two. "Store these in a dark, cool location until you're ready to plant them. Anything else?"
Colson confirms with Mordecai, his brows moving only so very slightly in question that it might not be entirely visible a shift, as if he has simply turned a blank expression from the seeds to the priest.
Mordecai nods very slightly to Colson. "That's all, thank you," Mordecai says to Patricia, stepping up to the counter. "How much will those be?"
Patricia names a total, and Mordecai carefully counts out exact change, a faint smile on his face the entire time.
Colson watches with a soft touch around his eyes of his stoic face.
Patricia puts the seeds in a little paper bag. "Have a nice day," she says brightly. She looks at Colson's tattoo now that Mordecai is no longer glued to his side and adds, "Light be with you."
"Light be with you," Mordecai says politely, putting the little bag of seeds away in his larger bag of everything else for now.
"Light be with you," Colson echoes, inclining his head to Patricia. Colson waits for the bag of seeds to be put into their new bag home for now before he offers out his hand once more for Mordecai's.
Mordecai takes Colson's hand and once again presses up against his side as they walk.
The gnome in the Hat hasn't acknowledged their existence even once.
Colson might have noticed the hat. He might not be saying anything or drawing attention to it because of it.
Mordecai once again holds the door for Colson. As soon as they step outside, he gets a bit more tense - this is around where he was noticed earlier - and escalates their pace to a somewhat brisk walk.
Colson keeps pace with it, everything in his manner suggesting that there is nothing odd at all happening. They are out for a brisk walk, as one does. Nothing to see here. Look away. "Would you like to see what that 'sweet tea' the librarian spoke of is, from that cafe he mentioned?"
Mordecai bites his lip. "I'd like to go home," he admits. "But another time?"
"As you would like," Colson says agreeably. He doesn't seem to mind the rejection of the suggestion in the slightest.
Mordecai nods. "I just, I want to figure out what happened, and I can't do that out here."
"I understand."
Mordecai doesn't say much else on the trip back home, and his grip on Colson's hand remains a little tight, although not painfully so. He seems almost surprised to find himself standing in front of the door to their inn room, like he was tuning out the walk entirely.
Colson has the key ready, opening the door with the ease of someone using a key for a lock that he's familiar with. He does the same glance through the room, his eyes lingering a little longer on the shadows of the canopy, before he steps inside.
Mordecai steps in after him a moment later, setting his bag down on the floor nearby.
Colson closes the door behind them, waiting for a moment when the Got Home Tasks are completed.
Mordecai looks more lost in thought than usual. He sits down on the floor, back against the door, to unlace his shoes and set them aside. Then he draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them.
Colson kneels down beside him, reaching out a hand for Mordecai's face. "Mordecai?"
Mordecai blinks a few times before focusing on Colson's face. "Yes?"
"Do you wish to remain here, or would you be more comfortable on the bed?" Colson asks, with that sense that he has no particular stake in the answer. If Mordecai is happy on the floor, that's fine.
Mordecai smiles at him. "If you're offering to carry me, the bed would be nice." He doesn't seem like he needs to be carried, just wants to be.
"I certainly am now," Colson says with a faint smile.
Mordecai holds his arms out. Up, please.
Colson has to reposition around Mordecai to be able to lift correctly with his back, as per The Rules of Lifting, which can never be broken, but he does so with a graceful ease. The lift itself takes him a bit of effort, and it's not as smooth as he's pulled off before, but he settles Mordecai into a better grip against his body with a little flex of movement that certainly does things to Colson's arms and chest. He doesn't seem to be in any hurry to get Mordecai to his destination, as he looks at the priest in his arms with a soft expression. "Hi."
Mordecai wraps one arm around Colson's shoulders for balance, but his other hand traces idly around the neckline of Colson's shirt with an incredibly light touch. "Hi," he says back, smiling a little.
Colson moves slowly to the bed. He could set Mordecai down on it, but what he actually does is sit down on Colson's side of the bed, still holding onto Mordecai. It takes him a little bit of muscle effort to turn in place, one foot on the floor providing most of the force, but he gets there, so that his back is to the headboard.
Mordecai seems very content to remain in Colson's lap. "Comfortable, love?"
"Yes." Colson seems happily settled into his position.
"Welcome home," Mordecai says softly, and leans in for his welcome home kiss.
Colson makes a content humming sound as he meets Mordecai halfway, lingering a little in the kiss.
Mordecai rests a hand over Colson's heart. "What happened? Out in the street. You looked like… like, like something happened, and you said you felt the Light."
"I am not as certain as to what happened first, sight or feeling — I felt the Light around you, and I saw an image of bright, golden wings hovering around your shoulders. It was…" Colson sighs with longing. "Angelic, if I were to put a word to it."
Mordecai idly begins to trace the line of the scar up to Colson's shoulder. "It couldn't have been a vision, though, because everybody else saw. Right? They were all staring at us."
"I do not think it was a vision, no," Colson says slowly. "If I had been the only one to see it, I do not believe it likely that my reaction would have been sufficient cause to make others take note."
Mordecai nods. "I felt something. So. I don't think it was either. Um… do you mind if I try to reach for it? Whatever it was? I don't want to startle you."
"Please do," Colson says, and there is no mistaking that undertone in his voice. "It was…" He swallows, and for a moment seems almost lost for the word. "Glorious."
Mordecai nods, and his hand comes to a stop on Colson's shoulder as he focuses.
Nothing happens.
Nothing happens for a good minute before Mordecai says, "Hm."
"Hm?"
"I must be going about this wrong," Mordecai decides. "Do you mind if I talk this through out loud?"
"By all means, do so," Colson says. "Do you want me to respond, or simply listen?"
Mordecai kisses his cheek. "You can respond, if you'd like."
Colson makes an affirmative noise.
"I was… talking about the garden," Mordecai says thoughtfully, and shifts his weight on Colson's lap so he can sit up straighter. "I was thinking about you, and how much I wanted you to have that. Our garden." Abruptly, Mordecai gets up from the bed entirely. He touches Colson's shoulder and says, "Stay." It's not a command, exactly, but it sort of is.
Colson inhales sharply, and obeys the command, his hands clenching briefly as he avoids reaching out to touch Mordecai.
"Fuck, just look at you," Mordecai says under his breath. There's a moment where he starts to lean in closer, his hand still resting on Colson's shoulder, but he catches himself and pulls away.
Mordecai paces around the bed to get to the bathroom and disappears inside, closing the door quietly behind him. There's the sound of water running in the sink.
Colson stays put, watching Mordecai with open desire and devotion on the paladin's face, but chained to his position as surely as with physical restraints.
Mordecai isn't gone very long - not even a full minute. He seems to have just washed his hands and face, and that's all. His hair is still messy. He crawls back into bed through his side of the bed and actually pulls this side of the canopy shut behind him. He doesn't remain on his side, though: he crawls over to Colson's, grabs the other side of the canopy curtain, and pulls that shut as well. He ends up back in Colson's lap, straddling it this time. As if he'd never gone anywhere, Mordecai says, "I suppose it's not just a garden. To me. It means more than that."
Colson sets his hands on Mordecai's waist, meeting his gaze with a warmth that Colson seems to be holding on a temporary leash. "What does it mean for you?"
"It's… it's about our future together. You wrote me a letter about it, once, do you remember? I want you to have that. I want to be there with you. I want…" Mordecai trails off, his eyelashes flickering.
"Yes. I remember," Colson says softly. "What is it that you want?"
Once again, Mordecai cups Colson's face gently in both hands. "I want to reach that future," he says, heartfelt and determined. "I want…"
For a second time today, the Light gathers, and the wings spread out from behind Mordecai in a burst of brilliant gold. They seem to be both behind him and also projected against the backdrop of the closed canopy curtain at the same time, and this time they don't flicker and fade away after a moment - this time they last, the [Guardian Spirit] fully manifested.
"I want to live," Mordecai says, looking not at the wings but at Colson's face. He feels notably warmer to the touch at every point of contact between the two of them. The sense of the Light around Mordecai is incredibly strong, stronger than it has ever been before.
"Fuck," Colson says, in the most holy way possible.
Mordecai wastes several seconds just staring at Colson before he manages to turn his head away enough to look at the golden wing projected onto the canopy directly to his right. "Oh."
Colson makes a small sound in his throat as he reaches for Mordecai to try to pull him in for a kiss with an obvious desperation.
Mordecai easily meets and matches the level of intensity in the kiss, which is clearly much more of a priority to Mordecai than paying attention to his new wings. He's not even counting how long they remain for, but ten seconds after they first appeared, the wings vanish, and the sense of the Light lingering around Mordecai slowly begins to fade, as does the unusual warmth.
It takes Colson a few beats to notice, and eventually break the kiss enough to speak Mordecai's name like a prayer, holding his priest's face like Colson's found a holy relic and is afraid both that if he lets go or holds it too tightly it will shatter.
Mordecai looks a little dazed. He makes a faint "Mm?" sound, blinking slowly at Colson, who for some mysterious reason has stopped kissing him.
"You cast something. Or possibly manifested something. I do not recognize it," Colson says slowly as though trying to remember how words go.
"I saw it that time." Mordecai leans closer and pauses. "It didn't hurt you, right? It felt warmer than normal."
"It did not hurt," Colson says softly, making another low sound. "That was not…pain."
"Good." The important question having been asked, Mordecai moves in for another kiss, because he has clear priorities at the moment.
Colson drags Mordecai into him as though by kissing Mordecai, he will be able to better identify this new ability, and there might be a time limit.
Time passes that Mordecai is not counting, and who can blame him? It's somewhere between three minutes and five minutes. Some part of Mordecai's brain may have been slowly sifting through years of past reading material and lectures, because partway through the process of attempting to get Colson's shirt off, Mordecai goes, "Oh, I know. What it. What it is. Colson."
"Yes?" Colson answers. He sounds very interested in this information. He might no longer realize they're still talking about the wings, though.
"The - the spell. The. One second." Mordecai finishes up the project: shirt removal, tossing Colson's shirt somewhere off to his left to be a problem for future them. "There."
Colson arches closer to Mordecai, setting his hands against Mordecai's back, open palms warm and dry. He's very close, lips grazing Mordecai's jaw. "The spell?" He prompts.
"Mm. It's called… fuck, I just had it…" Mordecai closes his eyes. "I just had the name… 'Guardian Spirit.' I think that's it. What it is. The wings." He opens his eyes to look at Colson again.
"Oh?" Colson breathes out a sigh against Mordecai's skin, brushing his lips along the edge of his jawline, as his left hand trails a criminally slow path down to the bottom hem of Mordecai's shirt. "Guardian Spirit," he repeats. "Beautiful. Do you recall what it does?"
Mordecai presses into the touch. "I did. Just a second ago."
"Hm." Colson should probably be repentant. He doesn't seem to be, though. "Do you think you could do it once more?" There's an undertone in the paladin's voice that is not especially holy. It is very human, and very much a young man's request.
Mordecai smiles at him. "Do it to myself? Or to you?" The spell. He's definitely talking about the spell here.
"You can do it to me?" Colson asks, and there's that other sound in his voice, the deeper reverence, a quiet longing of a man of faith reaching out to touch something he believes deeply in.
"I think so. In theory. It's protective. Preventative. It's… Father Casimir said it would save someone's life, if timed right. Guard them from a sudden death, an imminently mortal wound." Mordecai has to close his eyes to recite this.
"Oh." There's a ring of something in the single syllable. Colson turns his cheek to set it along Mordecai's, resting his lips against the priest's ear. "I would like you to try to place it upon me, please."
Mordecai rests a hand over Colson's heart. "That should be even easier, I think. Look at me?"
Colson leans back just enough to be able to look at Mordecai without going cross-eyed, soft pleading in his expression, his lips parted as if from a gasp. He's breathing quicker, his pulse visible in his neck as a flutter of movement.
"I would do anything for you," Mordecai says simply, like a prayer, and the Light comes when he calls it, infusing Colson with warmth and radiance and the same golden wings projected behind him that previously appeared behind Mordecai. As far as castings go, it seems practically effortless.
The paladin makes an inarticulate sound. There's something that reaches back out to Mordecai's Light cast upon him, an echoing, wordless call in answer of a [Beacon of Light] not necessarily purposefully cast that sets the two ablaze.
Colson's head falls back as his eyes close. His breath catches, and he holds it within his lungs, the Light a brilliance around him capturing the stillness of the young paladin as he basks within it all, reflecting it back to the priest in his arms.
Mordecai makes an involuntary noise and movement of his hips that he manages to halt before it goes from a twitch into a full grind, and he goes very still, mouth parted slightly, barely breathing. He stares at Colson as the ten seconds tick down.
Colson exhales only as the Light starts to fade, but remains unmoving in the grace of it for much longer.
Mordecai doesn't dare move, so if Colson isn't moving, he isn't either. He might be waiting out the [Beacon of Light].
It's going to be awhile. In fact, it seems to be lasting longer than before, by a full thirty extra seconds.
Mordecai, who has a very good sense of time and might also actively be counting to distract himself, speaks up after the minute mark, because this is unusual. "Colson."
"Yes?" Colson's voice is deep, and low, and he still hasn't moved as though he's trying to hold onto the feeling for as long as possible. His eyes open to look at Mordecai at the sound of his name, bright pinpricks of the Light in his pupils.
"Oh, fuck," Mordecai says in the least holy way possible. "Colson, it's still going, the Beacon, we're still connected, it's been. Over a minute." He sounds breathless, clinging to whatever remains of his willpower to hold very still.
"Yes," Colson agrees. To what exactly, is a little unclear. He leans closer, gazing at Mordecai's expression with a sweet fire in those blue eyes.
By now, this is a very familiar expression. Mordecai looks exactly the way he does when he's trying not to come too early: flushed, pupils blown wide, breathing a little unevenly despite his best efforts. "How long… I… it's so good, it, I… Light, please…"
"Do you want me to let it go?" Colson asks, moving so close that his breath is palpable against Mordecai's lips.
It takes another few seconds for Mordecai to process that question. "No. No, don't."
Colson doesn't, for the space of a shield, until it begins to fade with reluctance. Colson doesn't move a muscle from where he is, letting the heat of his body remain a breath out of reach, not quite touching, except for his hands on Mordecai's back.
Mordecai manages to hold eye contact for the remaining duration of the [Beacon of Light], and he blinks a few times as he feels it fade. There's a very shaky exhale.
Colson captures Mordecai's lips at the end of it. There's no sacred, pure magic in it, no Light still lingering around him; he is only a man again for the moment, but the kiss is holy all the same.
Now Mordecai grinds forward, making a soft, needy noise into the kiss. He clutches at Colson's shoulders like he needs to for balance, even though there's no possible way he could actually fall.
This encouragement hits a wall of paladin all too eager to reflect it back, even as he starts deliberately slowing it down, dragging Mordecai closer to him.
Mordecai is nothing if not encouraging, especially now that some of the apparent urgency is gone. His grip on Colson's shoulders loosens, and he brushes his fingertips down Colson's tattooed left arm with a very light touch.
"I felt it," Colson murmurs against Mordecai's lips. "The Guardian Spirit." The clarification is extremely necessary in this case.
"Mm?" Mordecai blinks slowly at him. "What… did it feel like?"
Colson shakes his head slightly. "I am not certain I have words to describe it." He tries anyway.
"In all my life, I have only felt so completely filled with Light, with utter conviction and sense that it was within me, with me, around me, that its grace would hold me securely within its embrace and not let me go, when I became a paladin. I felt it call my name, not in words, but in feeling, and I knew that if I had slipped the bonds of life itself, that my name would hold me here, as I am, all that I am, without altering a single thing to be more perfect or less mortal. Love of life itself, a mantle of creation, draped around me."
Mordecai's fingers go still while Colson speaks, and then trail slowly back up to his shoulder when he finishes. "Ah." Mordecai smiles softly at him. "My Light knows you. I would never let you go, love."
Colson smiles back, that same, if now reverently hushed, sweet fire in his eyes, as he looks at Mordecai as though everything he's ever desired is right there in front of him, only a breath away.
"It didn't hurt, right?" Mordecai asks with sudden concern. "It didn't seem like it…"
"No." Colson tilts his head back slightly in a way that might not be entirely voluntary, in remembering, his eyelids flickering closed. "Nothing like that. I felt…more open, receptive, as though the Light could flow into me deeper and deeper, without pain, not the burn of righteousness but the glow of healing." The roughness in his voice makes it clear that he's not thinking entirely of the Light.
"I… never want to hurt you." Mordecai says in a very soft voice, fingertips trailing along Colson's collarbone. There's a slight hesitation before the movement continues up the side of Colson's neck, Mordecai's touch incredibly gentle.
Colson arches into the touch, body drawing tighter like a crossbow strung by an expert hand. He murmurs Mordecai's name, as his hands clench against his back. "You looked…" He makes a soft sound, opening his eyes, lids at half-mast, lashes casting shadows into the blue of his irises. "Holy. An imperfect, mortal angel of the Light, held in my hands."
"I might be able to cast it again, in a few minutes," Mordecai says optimistically. This, of course, requires him to make it through a few more minutes. "If… you would like? It isn't tiring, just intense."
Colson makes a sound that could very possibly be an emphatic yes. The way he gasps quietly and moves his hips upwards is likely even more clearly an acquiescence. It takes him another second, before he closes the distance between them to say, "Yes. Light, please."
And there it is. The other way Colson says that particular phrase.
Mordecai makes a noise of agreement. A few minutes is forever to wait, but maybe he can kiss Colson some more in the meantime? Surely nothing can go wrong with this plan.
Quite Some Time Passes
Colson does not seem eager to move. He is gloriously happy where he is, and he's practically radiating it, if not literally glowing with the Light. For now.
Mordecai, having dealt with clean-up, returns to the bed wearing his own pants and Colson's sleeveless shirt and no socks, pulling the canopy shut behind him as he crawls in on his own side. "The socks are gone again," he mumbles, flopping down on top of the covers and scooting sideways towards Colson's half of the bed.
"I shall check the leylines," Colson murmurs, opening back up his arm for the Mordecai Spot.
Mordecai makes a noise of amusement and snuggles in close. "Hello, beautiful."
"Hi," Colson says gently, turning into the motion to pull Mordecai tighter against him.
Mordecai wraps himself around Colson like a very clingy priest scarf, tangling their legs together. "Light, I'm exhausted," he says happily.
Colson chuckles, deep and low, the sound reverberating in his chest as he presses a kiss to Mordecai's hair. He doesn't ask for forgiveness. He might not even be sorry. "I am rather content to not move, but I fear fairly soon we must contend with the eternal question of what we shall do for dinner, my angel."
Mordecai blushes, because of course he does. "You wanted to go to that cafe, right? To try the sweet tea?"
"Oh, ah. Well, I suppose I would like to at the least see it before I return the books. It will make for some conversation that is not likely to become another…commentary on the current political situation here," Colson says with that polite delicacy of someone trained from a young age to be diplomatic about his opinions.
"Colson Aspenwood, are you telling me you want to go to this cafe just so you have something to talk to that librarian about?" Mordecai asks, his tone affectionate.
"Yes," Colson confesses.
Mordecai blinks at him a few times. "… Why?"
"It would be a reliable source of polite conversation, one I could use perhaps in other places, as necessary, to avoid needing to articulate some specific sentiment in the internal political situation here. I can speak at length on the various food carts of Shattrath for much the same reason," Colson says calmly. "It makes for an easy change of subject."
Mordecai looks like this is an entirely new concept to him. He's even doing the puzzled headtilt. "So… you don't want to talk to him in particular, necessarily, it's just… potential conversation fodder?"
"Yes. I could remark on any number of aspects of it, afterwards. The recommendation, the cafe itself, the food," Colson lists. "Asking for additional recommendations only works for so long if you do not make an attempt at trying them. It is a simple way to ensure one does not overstep into conversations one does not wish to be in." That has that cadence of Colson repeating something, more than his own voice speaking it as an independent thought.
"Oh, I see…" Mordecai relaxes a little, becoming an even more snuggly priest scarf. "But why talk to them at all?"
"Well, to be polite," Colson says, like that's a Rule. "I do not mind doing so, I simply would prefer to keep the subjects impersonal."
"Oh." Mordecai sighs. "Well, I'm glad you don't mind."
Colson leans in closer, brushing a kiss to Mordecai's forehead. "I never have minded it, but I find I mind it far less when you are there with me. I believe that people see more of me, when you are there." Colson sounds happy about it. Colson is obvious! People notice! He does not seem like an unfeeling robot! "It is an unexpected and very welcome experience, to be seen as your husband, or 'sweetheart,' as the assumption may be."
Mordecai smiles and recites with deep and obvious affection in his voice, "'If he could ever come to love me, and this could be a marriage in truth, that would be happiness to me, to be his.'"
Colson smiles brightly, enough so that his eyes crinkle faintly at the edges. "Yes. Precisely so."
"I remember that," Mordecai says, a little proudly, because his memory is really only average in general. "I was thinking about it earlier. 'That would be happiness to me, to be his.' It is. Always." He touches Colson's cheek. "I'm glad so many people can see it. I know that matters to you. I might be a bit shy about being noticed in general, but I'm never ashamed of being seen with you, as yours."
Colson makes a happy humming sound, leaning into Mordecai's hand as he reaches up a hand to Mordecai's hair, brushing the curls back in a futile endeavor to encourage them to spring in a new direction. No order. Only chaos. "I hope you will forgive me, for drawing a rather different sort of attention to you today. I should have noticed sooner. I confess, the stares of others have never bothered me, and I do not often take notice of them for myself, but I am aware you do not wish for such…public attention."
"You didn't draw attention to me," Mordecai says, blinking. "The Light did."
"I could have moved sooner, but that I stood there staring along with them did not likely improve the situation. After all, even if they had not seen or felt anything, people are often drawn to look at what others are directing their attention to. I should have been more aware of it," Colson says, that touch of [Husband Guilt] in his voice. His expression is still soft, and relaxed. The guilt is not deep, even if it is there.
"No, sweetheart," Mordecai says, stroking Colson's cheek with his thumb. "I'm allowed to absolve you of this, aren't I? You did nothing wrong."
Colson inhales deeply, and there's that look on his face as though Mordecai has cast the [Fear Ward] as Colson submits to the rules he has committed himself to — Mordecai is allowed to absolve him, and Colson has handed over this power without conditions. There's no change in his heart rate, but that deep relaxation flows through the paladin as he lets go of [Husband Guilt]. "As you say, my love."
"You are allowed to stare at me whenever you like. How could I ever blame you for doing so? And the moment I alerted you, you acted. You got us out of there, you talked to me, you did everything right. I'm very grateful. There's nothing for me to forgive. You acted exactly as I would have wished for you to." Mordecai smiles at him.
Colson smiles gently back, brushing his fingers through Mordecai's hair, careful to not pull at any tangles. "I am glad."
Mordecai tucks some of Colson's hair back behind his ear. "Thank you for that. For protecting me when I needed you to."
"Always," Colson promises, with ardent devotion in his voice.
Mordecai shifts closer to kiss him almost lazily, unhurried and without any real heat behind it, only contentment. "Mm. I wish there were a proper place of worship here in Dalaran, so I might find somebody who's familiar with 'Guardian Spirit' more easily, without… having to ask around. My best chance seems like it might be to try and find a draenei anchorite, perhaps."
"Mm," Colson agrees. "They may have another name for it, but I would be rather surprised if they did not know of the technique."
"I…" Mordecai settles his head down on Colson's pillow. Cozy. "I would be very grateful if you could do a bit of asking around on my behalf. About it. I know you don't mind talking to people, a-and it's for me, so… maybe you'd… like to help?"
"I would be happy to do so," Colson says sincerely.
Mordecai exhales, relieved. "Thank you, love."
Colson seems very pleased by this task. Helpful! Of service! It's even Light service, which means he gets double the service points. Or something.
Mordecai goes quiet for a little while, nuzzling at Colson's hair and occasionally making soft little contented humming sounds. He seems very comfortable and happy.
Eventually, though, Mordecai breaks the silence by saying, "I'd like to field test this at some point."
Colson goes as rigid with an uncomfortable shock as though Mordecai has casually suggested they should see other people. It takes him two breaths to force himself to unclench. "You would like to field test it to cast it, or to see if it is effective?" He asks carefully, his voice so painfully neutral that it can only be masking something else.
"Oh, Colson." Mordecai immediately sets a hand over his heart. "To cast it. To cast it, sweetheart. I wouldn't - I promised, I would never try to…"
Colson breathes out a slow exhale, relaxing further. He nods. "We could field test the cast," he agrees, relief obvious in his voice.
"Oh, love. Breathe. I didn't mean to…" Mordecai sighs. "May I ward you?"
Colson turns his head to look at Mordecai, a faint half-smile on his face. "Yes, you may," he says gently. He seems to have returned to his baseline calm already, but permission has been granted all the same.
Mordecai traces the Fear Ward quickly over Colson's heart.
Colson makes a soft sound as the ward takes hold, sinking back into the pillow.
"I know I could cast it on you at any time, with no difficulty. I love you. I'm not sure how easy it would be for me to cast it on anyone else. But it might be easier to cast in the field, when there's an active threat that I want to protect them from. Or it might be harder, because I'd need time to think about it that I wouldn't have. That's what I want to know." He reaches up to stroke Colson's hair gently.
It takes him a few seconds before Colson says, "I understand. Is there anyone in particular you would like to try this with, or a location that would suit your purposes?"
Mordecai considers this. Hair petting continues. "Maybe someone I don't know very well. Are you all right, love?"
"Yes," Colson says honestly, leaning into the hair petting with a soft smile. "Someone you do not know well. Hm."
Mordecai says softly, "I don't need to test whether or not it will work, right? The way you described feeling… it sounded like it would. You seemed very certain."
"I have felt the Light call me back from near death before," Colson says gently, setting his hand along Mordecai's heart. "I recall precisely how it feels to have it reach out for another chance, to stand between me and my own death, and call my name. I am certain of what I felt in your Light."
Mordecai smiles at him. "I believe you, and I trust you. If you're certain, then I have faith it will work, and there's no need to…" He makes a bit of a face and says carefully, "Engineer our own emergency situations for the purposes of testing. None of that."
Colson nods. "Someone you do not know well though, to cast it upon in the field. Would you prefer them to be within the Company?"
Mordecai shrugs. "I mean, ideally I could try it on a variety of people?"
Colson makes the Classic Aspenwood Thinking Hm Sound.
Mordecai gently combs his fingers through Colson's hair, the motion slow and repetitive, like how one might attempt to lull a cat to sleep.
It might be genuinely working because Colson closes his eyes. He's resting them while thinking maybe.
Mordecai peers intently at Colson's face, watching for movement.
Colson's eyes are no longer the only things that the paladin is resting. It seems to be the rest of him. The calm, even breaths and the smoothing out of his expression into what he looks like asleep give an indication that he might no longer just be thinking.
Mordecai watches for a full minute with a very sappy expression that unfortunately Colson cannot see. The hair petting continues, slow and steady, but Mordecai shifts into a slightly more comfortable position to continue doing so. Again, he checks to see if there's any change.
Finally, Mordecai says in a very soft murmur, barely even audible to himself, "That would be happiness to me, to be his."