(2023-04-26) At Peace With Yours, And So I Am With Mine

Details

Author:	Athena
Summary:	Colson checks on Lena, and how she is doing as a warlock, and where she is on her path. Colson explains where he is on his own, and that he's at peace with it. Lena is, too. For the most part. 5100-ish words.
Rating:	M for Mature 17+

The cafe in Dalaran is clearly an upscale one; it's off the main streets, down several smaller ones, and the sign is half-hidden by a trailing trellis of vines. It has that sense of Locals Only to it, a note of exclusivity in every aspect of the building that resembles a house more than a restaurant.

It doesn't quite scream 'wealthy people only,' but it certainly whispers it as one walks by, in the very posh luxury of the seating, lighting, and the menus that have no prices listed on them. If you have to ask, you can't afford it.

The paladin is dressed in civilian clothes, looking as though he fits in exactly where he stands. The dark blue short sleeved collared shirt is perfectly tailored to him, the linen pants are soft and without the slightest wrinkle, and his shoes look as though they were made for him by custom order. He waits patiently off to the side, as a host prepares a table.

The warlock almost walks on by the cozy spot, before she notices the paladin waiting for her. She has her blonde hair pinned up today, and she's wearing her nice purple dress.

At first glance, one might think she belongs at an establishment like this. But there are little tells, like the callouses on her palms and the slightly too heavy makeup, that a savvy customer would note as clues of someone trying to belong.

When she sees the paladin, she turns to him and smiles. "Colson. It's been a while."

Colson turns at the sound of his name, and there's a faint look of a smile around his expression, a lightening around his eyes and brows, a perceptible curve of his lips upwards. "Lena. Good afternoon. Thank you for coming." He nods to the host. "The rest of my party is here."

"Of course, sir," the host says in a neutral service voice, gesturing with an open hand to the side of the cafe, where a two person table is waiting. If he has any opinions on the paladin's companion, they do not show on his face.

Lena nods politely at the host and follows Colson to the table.

"How've you been?" She asks cheerfully, moving to take a seat.

Colson sits gracefully, as the host places menus down in front of him and Lena. "Thank you," he says politely, to the host.

"Your server will be with you shortly," the host says, and leaves as unobtrusively as possible."

"I have been well, thank you," Colson answers Lena, and there's an audible warmth that was not there a moment ago, even if the tone is the same mild, politeness. "Blue Squad has had, perhaps, an easier time of things, in some ways. I heard of the tribulations White Squad has faced in assisting the Alliance's less established front in the Howling Fjord."

"Tribulations?" Lena says, glancing up at Colson from the menu. "You mean, like the gulch? We're steering clear of it now at least. I don't reckon Blue Squad's had exactly an easy time of it, given the whole infiltration thing."

"Ah, but that was not personal, as frustrating and dismaying as it was," Colson says gently, picking up his menu to glance at it, and then set it down. He might already know what he's getting. "Infiltration of the mind, on the other hand, is something else altogether."

"Hit some harder than others," Lena concedes. "We weren't there long, though. And the Confessor fellow said it wasn't going to do any long-term damage."

Colson sets his hand on the table next to his menu, his expression as neutral as ever, but there may be something softer around the eyes. "Not all long-term damage is visible, or obvious. There are few among any people who do not find it disconcerting to feel powerless, however briefly, of controlling the thoughts in one's own mind. I, myself, have felt something similar once, with a succubus' charm."

"It'll happen eventually," Lena shrugs, looking down at the menu. "At least, I get the impression. Maybe it's best to get a taste of it now, when it can go away. Make it easier to recognize later on."

"Perhaps. Except that there is always the danger, for anyone," Colson says slowly, and carefully, as though he's choosing his words individually and with care, "That when we feel powerless, even briefly, that we try to regain that sense of power in another way, especially if we do not believe we have other options, or that it is inevitable." He looks at Lena with that Compassion Paladin Stare. It's not judging; it's just there. And it's not subtle.

Lena looks up at him again, raising an eyebrow. "Did somebody say something off about me? I've not been burning with felfire or anything."

"No, no one has spoken any ill word of you in my hearing," Colson says gently. "I simply hope that you have felt as though you do have other options beyond the fel to turn to, in times when you feel those inevitable moments of being powerless, however briefly."

"So this is a… warlock wellness check, or some such? I've still got things under control. I'm even teaching, it's going that well," Lena taps the menu with one finger. "Do you know what's good here?"

"It is a Lena wellness check," Colson stresses, with real feeling in his voice. "I was concerned for you, as a person, when I heard. I know things have not always felt as though you had many options, in the past." He accepts the change of topic however as he adds, "I have been recommend to try the sweet tea, the quiche lorraine, and sweet potato pie by a local who gave the name of the place."

Lena smiles. "Been a while since I've had a quiche." She pauses and adds, "I'm holding up, really. Your sister doing alright? I imagine it must be frightening, with the whole blue dragon threat."

"Cressidha has adapted to the changing situation well, yes. She is not overly fond, of course, of the restraints it can sometimes pose for her, but she is well are of the necessity of being accompanied when she is out. The Blue Flight successfully caught an archmage, and the nature of their cages was not conducive to a…full survival rate." That might be Colson for some of them mages did a die in them.

Lena winces. "I can see why the Kirin Tor are all worried about that. Good to hear she's been keeping safe."

"Their fear led them to choose to make certain decisions that I confess I find myself glad that Cressidha is determined to never be one of their number," Colson remarks mildly, like he's commenting about the weather. "As I said. When people are made to feel powerless, they sometimes turn to things that they feel can regain that power. The Kirin Tor is no exception."

"The Kirin Tor? Feeling powerless?" Lena scoffs. "I wouldn't have thought that possible, blue dragons or no blue dragons. I guess that's not a good look, if they're trying to recruit her."

"I believe that they never had any particular chance with her. She finds their exclusionary nature in itself undesirable, as a mage," Colson says and there's a gentle smile on his face at the thought, a softening of his voice. He exhales slowly. "However, they do clearly require the assistance. I simply hope that we do not see a repeat of them using such as a 'loophole,' around their own laws."

"Hm," Lena tilts her head, looking at Colson. She adds in a conversational voice pitched low enough not to carry, "Makes me wonder if Captain Tyrrell is onto something. Maybe rather than us being more like mages, they ought to be more like warlocks. Spend a bit more time not cooped up with a bunch of other mages, telling each other how great their ideas are."

Colson's brows raise slightly, and there might be some hint of a consideration going on behind the calm blue eyes. His voice is lower, but not a whisper. "I had not considered that, but perhaps you have shone some light on a concern not often granted to the arcane. I have spoken myself that paladins are not as incorruptible as we are oft treated; in many ways, we walk as narrow a path as any warlock. Yet you raise an excellent point. Magical community has been seen as a point of strength, but perhaps like with any group, it can narrow the perspective overmuch. It is an excellent observation to consider."

"I suppose that's one strength of Cobalt, then," Lena says, sitting back. "Diversity of thought. For you, me, and Cressidha."

"Yes. It was something the army was aware of. We were encouraged, as commanders, to not let warlocks isolate, in large part because it was unlikely they were ever truly isolated, due to the presence of demons," Colson remarks. He opens his mouth to say something more and then closes it as he sees their server approaching.

The server is a person of some ambiguous gender, hair a bright purple that might very well be an illusion. The feeling of the arcane is strong enough to hang in the air. "Welcome. I am Mischa, your server today. May I get any drinks started for you?"

"Oh, thank you," Lena says, turning to the server with a charming smile. "I'd love a sweet tea."

"The same for me," Colson say politely with the neutral expression he always has.

"Of course." Their server doesn't write it down. They may simply be remembering it. After a pause, they glance at the duo's menus set down, and asks, "Are you ready to order?"

Colson looks at Lena with brows that might be slightly raised up in question.

"You go first," Lena says, turning her smile to Colson.

"I would like the quiche lorraine and sweet potato pie."

The server nods at it, and still doesn't write anything down. They look back at Lena, faint sparkles moving in their hair as they turn their head.

"Oh, I suppose I'll have the same," Lena says with only a slight hesitation.

Another nod, and surprisingly sturdy hands pick up the menus, revealing blunt fingernails and a few callouses that suggest this may not be this person's only job. "Excellent choice," they say as they remove themselves from the proximity of the table.

"Do you plan on remaining in Dalaran long?" Colson asks Lena conversationally as their server departs.

"Oh, I don't know," Lena shrugs. "I thought there might be a lot to learn, but… everyone's very distant. Do you get that feeling, too? Polite, but already stepping away from you as soon as you say hello."

"Mm." Colson's thumb runs along his index finger, still set on the table. "Mordecai has expressed a similar sentiment. The sense of being a permanent visitor, and treated as such. I confess I am less personally bothered by it, but I do understand how it can be rather uncomfortable."

"Oh, I'm no stranger to rejection. It's not like I'm going to lose any sleep over it or anything," Lena shrugs. "Just… one always hopes for more."

There's a visual softening around Colson's eyes, and a slight tilt upwards of his chin, a hint of a nobleman. "If you find yourself on the receiving end of a step beyond the casual non-mage rejection of Dalaran, I hope you will not hesitate to remind them of your association with the Company. You are deserving of respect, Lena, and always have been."

"Thank you, but it's not that big of a deal," Lena taps a finger on the table gently, her gaze darting briefly after where the server has gone. "If there's ever anything dangerous, I'll bring it up."

"Please, do. I am not certain you are aware of the Kirin Tor's previous stance on the study of the fel, but if there are still those who subscribe to it, they would be in violation of the law of the Alliance in pursuing it," Colson says seriously. "I understand you are an acquaintance of Lord Tyrrell?"

"With Cap… Lord…?" Lena freezes for a moment, something in her eyes a little like a small animal in a sudden bright light. "…Lord Zath Tyrrell?"

"Count Zathary Tyrrell, yes," Colson corrects without making it seem like he's correcting her. "I was given to understand he was your instructor? He spoke of you the other day."

Very low, under her breath, Lena breathes something that might be fuck, but of course she's far too proper for that. Pronouncing the name carefully, she says in a more audible voice, "Count Zathary Tyrrell was my instructor, after Calduin Bennett went on leave, yes."

"Lord Tyrrell spoke of a particular warlock here that he hoped you would avoid, but I did not think to ask if there are any in particular that you might better seek out. He seemed, at the least, familiar with many of the instructors. Cressidha has run into some…difficulties herself with obtaining permissions for certain instruction, but while she may soon find who are more receptive to working with outside mages, I expect Lord Tyrrell is the better expert in those a warlock might be better off speaking to, or avoiding."

"Mmm, Ebonlocke? We talked about it," Lena says, still seeming a little distracted. "But then, I don't think he believes I ought to learn from other warlocks right now. Maybe it's better if I just rely on myself for a while. And hang out with folks who aren't warlocks."

"Perhaps. Of the instructors here, however, are there any in particular that you are aware would be willing to work with a warlock in the study of the general applications of the magic field?"

"I have been real careful about asking around," Lena says, moving her hands to her lap. "Especially after what…" there's the slightest hesitation before she continues, "…Lord Tyrrell said about their old policy on warlocks. So no, I haven't really found any mages who are into the topic."

"Would you prefer that another make the inquiries on your behalf? I expect Miss Whittle would also have significant insight to those of the Kirin Tor, and she is a member of the Company."

"I could talk with Gwen," Lena shrugs. "Anyway, it was just an idea. I was always pretty good at picking stuff up on my own."

"In this case, I believe that may be less of an asset than in others," Colson says gently. "There are some discoveries of the fel that may be easy to pick up, but not put back down, as it were. There is no shame in asking for help to remain as safe as possible within a dangerous field, Lena."

"Life is dangerous, Colson," Lena says, with a wry smile. "And there's only one person I know I can count on to see me through all of it. But I take your point, and I wasn't planning on trying anything wild and experimental on my own. Or, you know, at all."

Colson runs his thumb along his forefinger again and there's a look around his eyes that isn't entirely clear what it means. "I do hope you know how much I appreciated what you have done for my House. Lady Lucille is important to us, and her freedom being secured as it was is something I shall not forget. I understand that it was not entirely, ah, a choice that you could have declined, but I nevertheless thank you for it. I know you have frequently found yourself making the best of few choices. I hope you know that if there is something I may do to help broaden those choices that you may ask."

Lena shifts in her chair, moving her arm for a moment like she might rest her elbow on the table before she drops her hand back to her lap. "I'm glad I could help, and really it cost me almost nothing. But… you got anything particular in mind for broadening choices? I can't be anything other than what I am."

"It depends on what you have found narrowed," Colson says, turning his hand palm up for a moment. "I would not dare suggest that I know more of what you need for yourself than you do, Lena."

"I think things are actually better than usual right now," Lena says, glancing over to see if the server might be approaching. "Snobby mages notwithstanding. I think I'm valued in Cobalt, and I've got friends, and… I'm not hiding from anyone. And I'm not going to turn on anybody, whatever any whispers said."

Colson doesn't blink in surprise and his expression doesn't change from the same gentler lines of stoicism. "I believe you, Lena," he says in a way that suggests he's also saying that he believes in her, that paladin sincerity of faith in his voice. "I am glad to hear it."

The server approaches from the same way they came, carrying the sweet teas on a tray hovering above their hand rather than on it.

Lena pauses the conversation, turning her attention to the server and waiting for her tea.

The server sets both down on the table. The liquid inside is a dark amber, with ice cubes that don't seem to be melting. The tea is extremely sweet, and the liquid seems almost thicker in the glass.

Lena takes a small sip and smiles appreciatively, nodding at the server.

Colson takes a sip and there's no change in his expression as he sets it down, inclining his head politely at the server.

"Your meal will be ready shortly. Is there anything else I can get for you at this time?" They ask with impeccable service tones.

"Nothing for me, this is lovely," Lena says, beaming.

"Thank you, no," Colson says politely. As the server leaves he turns his attention more fully back to Lena. "Have you had any notice yet of where White Squad will be working soon?"

"Mm, I'd imagine Dragonblight, but I'm not sure," Lena says, taking another sip of the sweet tea. "I'm planning to step down for a little while, myself. I think the Captain's planning to step in my place."

"Ah. I see," Colson says mildly. "The Captain has spoken of wishing to return to a hand's on approach."

"Probably good for her," Lena sets down the glass. "I think it's healthy, you know? To take some time on the front lines, some to recharge."

"I find myself similarly unable to be comfortable in idleness." Colson hasn't taken another sip of his tea. He might not be intending to. "Try as I may, my ability to return to being a civilian does not seem possible, or likely, not so long as Azeroth's future remains unstable. I am yet a soldier."

"That doesn't seem… I mean, your husband must…" Lena looks at Colson more carefully, and bites her lip. She starts again, saying, "I apologize if my words are too familiar. I don't mean to imply a closeness you never intended to exist. But if you're concerned on me and the fel, maybe I also ought to be concerned on you and peace."

Colson smiles faintly; there's enough of it to show up in his face, the curve of his lips and that slight movement of his eyes. "I thank you for the concern, Lena. I am very much at peace, personally. I am quite happy with my path." He sounds it, in the deeper tones of his voice gone lighter, as he turns his left arm slightly, some of the lines of his paladin vows of the tattoo showing better.

"I knew when I chose it that I was committing myself to a lifetime of service to the Light, and what that might mean. I may never be a civilian, but I do hold out hopes that someday, perhaps, I will have more space to make the attempt. In the meantime, I find myself unable to turn away from the front line."

"It'll always be there, though, the front," Lena says, looking down at her tea and then back up at the paladin. "It seems like we'll always be fighting somebody somewhere, and it'll always feel like it's just the most important thing. Even when I was a girl, when it was peaceful enough up in Silverpine, we had the refugees from Stormwind. You and me, we're not draenei. We can't fight for a thousand years. There has to be time, somewhere in there, for us to just live. And if there isn't, maybe we have to make it anyway."

"Yes. I, myself, feel more than content with what I have. But I did not pledge myself to fight for others only so long. It was a vow made and given for as long as I am able. If I die in service of others, I shall consider it worth the cost," Colson says serenely, with real conviction. "Each day is a gift that I assure you, I cherish. I find myself very well suited to the Company's ebb and flow of work, even if such regular leave took time to adjust to."

"You were… distressed by taking leave?" Lena raises an eyebrow.

"I was unused to it," Colson says, with a hint of humor to it. "I did not take any in the seven years I was in the army. It was an adjustment, but one I have since embraced."

"If you're happy, I suppose…" Lena shrugs, taking another sip of the sweet tea. "It just seems to me worth taking the time to learn, how to be a civilian. Then again, that's what I was until like a year ago, and I don't suppose I have the option of going back to it either."

Colson looks down at his hands for a moment. "There are some choices we make that alter our possibilities for the future. Whether over time or all at once, sometimes we commit to a course, and must acknowledge what is and is not possible any longer. That does not mean we cannot find joy in those paths, limited as they may sometimes be."

Lena makes a quiet sound of acknowledgement, and taps her finger against the glass of tea. "That may be true. But the same thing you said at me, about broadening choices… sometimes a thing that seems impossible isn't forever."

"I will not discount the possibility that Azeroth will achieve as full a peace as we can in my lifetime. But so long as there is a need for a paladin, I will follow that path along, where it leads. It is who I am." Colson looks at his own tea as if considering trying another sip. He doesn't.

"Not a fan?" Lena asks under her breath, darting her gaze down towards Colson's glass.

"Ah. It is…appropriately named. I am fond of sweets, but I find that I do have a limit to how sweet that is," Colson says mildly, without actually directly answering the question.

Their food arrives shortly after, their server moving unobtrusively as they set the plates down.

Once the server has departed, Lena looks down at the quiche and says, "Well, this oughtn't be sweet, unless they've got a different meaning of quiche than I have."

Colson makes a 'hm' sound, as he begins eating by cutting into it with a knife and fork, swapping hands after he cuts it in a formal style, before trying it. "Ah. That is rather pleasant. Although, I do not think I ever had any other day where I have had eggs in four different ways in the same day before," he says with a tone that's venturing into a dry amusement.

"Oh?" Lena pauses in cutting her own quiche. "What other eggs have you eaten today?"

Colson chuckles, and his face lights up as he looks down at his left hand. "I was attempting to ask the chef at the inn we are staying at, A Hero's Welcome, about what sort of eggs they offered; there was a small chance, after all, that some of what may be on offer comes from creatures native to here that are not chicken. Worms do lay eggs." There's what looks to be like a repressed shudder that rolls over him, and he lifts his eyes back to Lena.

"And a small miscommunication of such led to a breakfast of soft boiled quail eggs, hollandaise sauced poached turkey eggs, and a vegetable omelet of chicken eggs."

"Goodness, I'd hope even mages wouldn't go that far," Lena shudders at the idea of worm eggs, and nods with a small smile. "And yet, you went for more. At least, you surely haven't had sweet potatoes three ways so far today?"

"Well, the day is still young, and mages may not have nearly so much restraint with their sweet potatoes as one might hope," Colson says seriously, and there's something around his eye — was that a wink? Might have been. It was so fast.

Lena winks back, a little more obviously. "I'd offer to conjure something different, but I haven't the knack, really. Except for the stones, and those are hardly delicious."

"Ah. Yes. I have had more than one recruit mistake them for a cookie and been rather…unsettled by the reality. At least they are…healthy," Colson says diplomatically. "In their own way. I do not recommend trying to convince others they are the same as oatmeal raisin cookies. It did not seem to have quite the effect she was hoping for, when a warlock under my command tried for the comparison."

"If only oatmeal raisin cookies had souls," Lena smiles, taking a bite of her quiche. She looks a little surprised as she chews and swallows, and then she says, "This, on the other hand, I quite like the reality."

Colson's expression moves in a twitch of lips that is probably a smile. "I am glad to hear it."

"On the topic of leave, did you manage to get back down to Stormwind in the past few weeks?" Lena asks, taking another sip of tea. "I got down there myself for a week or so."

"Ah, no. Mordecai and I decided to remain. It did not seem worth the journey back, at the time. If there were portals back, I expect I would be there far more often, particularly now," Colson remarks in between small bites of his food. He does not speak with his mouth full. "I am not certain if you have heard the news that the House of Nobles shall begin filling the seats currently empty. The timing is…not ideal, for those of us here." He sounds guilty about it. The nuance is probably [Son Guilt], rare and not often seen in the wild with this particular paladin.

"The… House of Nobles?" Lena asks, taking another bite of quiche. After a moment, she continues. "Does that have something to do with you? The Aspenwoods are already in it, aren't they?"

"Yes. Her vote will be one of those cast in deciding who will take those seats, and thus…" Colson makes an elegant rolling gesture in the air, his expression neutral. "Ordinarily, Cressidha and I would be there to assist. Although, I expect Cressidha might find it best not being in the middle of it. I anticipate that there will be several engagements and marriages by the end of this year."

"Marriages," Lena says, in a tone of faint bewilderment, looking down at her plate. "I suppose people do all sorts of things for power."

Colson inclines his head. "Yes. Cressidha is likely to receive several offers from those attempting to reinforce their bid. That she no longer comes with a fortune will not deter those who only want the name." He exhales slowly and reaches to take a sip of the much too sweet tea. He sets it down soundlessly. "I would be more useful in fielding those overtures, as my position is less important and I am already married. But I cannot, in good conscience, leave the Northrend campaign at this time. I am, in the end, a paladin more than a nobleman."

"Cressidha does not strike me as someone who would struggle with…" Lena pauses, considering her words. "…turning down unwanted propositions. Will she be going back to Stormwind, then?"

"She may. I expect it will simply be, ah, different. She was engaged for so long as it was, that I do not believe she has yet to turn down any personally as of yet. Cressidha is even less likely to approve of anyone attempting to remove her from Northrend at this time. She believes most ardently in the necessity of this campaign," Colson says mildly.

"If she ever does need, uh… a woman to commiserate with…" Lena offers, "I am quite practiced at both rejecting and rejection."

"Ah." There's a brief, fleeting look on the paladin's face, of a faint half-smile. "I do recall, yes." Colson seems to be genuinely considering the offer. "Hm. Perhaps, so. There are certain…similarities enough in some of…ah, lack of emotional connection being the driving impetus for the offer that may be something you have more insight to that she would, perhaps, prefer not to hear from her little brother. I will be sure to suggest it, should what I expect come to pass."

"And you never know," Lena says with a faint smile. "Maybe she'll end up with an offer she's not unhappy about, somewhere in there."

Colson's expression softens a great deal, a gentle smile forming in response. "That is my greatest hope. It was part of why I did as I did, to shift the engagement to myself, even if I can say truly now that I was not entirely selfless in the offer." He doesn't sound guilty about it though. "I have held out hope that in freeing her from her loveless engagement that she may be finally free enough to find her own happiness, more than simply…acceptance of her fate."

"If not because of all this political business," Lena says with a light laugh, "Maybe in spite of it?"

"We can not ever truly be free of it, but yes." Colson smiles brightly. "I may have made my own match for several reasons motivated beyond a hope for happiness, but I have never been happier in all my life. It is difficult at times for those of us in a certain position to hope for it, but I would give much to have Cressidha feel she can do so."

"I'll hope for her," Lena smiles back, then the smile fades slightly. "And I've made myself a path where I don't need a match. As you said, some choices remove possibilities for the future. You're at peace with yours, and so am I with mine, for the most part."