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| Details |
| Author: | Alli |
| Summary: | Jo and Kerlo meet up at Wintergarde Keep and take the day together for an unexpectedly beautiful Northrend outing. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Jo steps away from the gryphon master at Wintergarde, carefully feeling to make sure the wind has not terribly ruined her hair buns. She's dressed up a little bit more than one might expect for a warfront, in a dark green robe that brings out her eyes. An astute observer might notice a touch of color on her lips and cheeks. She heads over towards the 7th Legion barracks, eyes alight with hope as she looks for a certain violet-eyed gnome.
Kerlo Quarterflash emerges from the barracks, for once not in uniform. Or at least, one would assume he is not, judging by his long gray coat with its hood pulled all the way up against the cold. It covers up everything else he's wearing, but the coat itself is not his usual on-duty wear. Beneath the hood, wire-rimmed spectacles wink in the wintry sunlight rather than his Siege Engineer goggles.
He reaches out both his gray-gloved hands toward Jo as he approaches her. "Keeping warm with magic I presume?" he says, smiling down at her as he takes her hands in his.
"I am a fire mage," Jo grins, resting her hands in his. They're a little bit warm to the touch, even through the gloves. "I hope I'm not pulling you away from terribly important explosions."
"Things are comparatively quiet at Wintergarde today," he says, "as the Lich King's forces seem to have had their focus drawn elsewhere temporarily. Whatever it is you are doing - and I feel certain it's Cobalt Company - I thank you from the bottom of my heart, O Captain and Lady of Fire. Shall we find somewhere more pleasant to talk for a while?" As he smiles, a dimple shows in his left cheek.
Jo's smile brightens. "I hope that's so. I have them mostly working in Zul'drak at the moment, where the Drakkari and the Scourge are fighting. But onto happier things. There was a place I thought to show you, if you don't mind a little bit of a ride?" Jo shifts to draw him away from the barracks. "I don't know how much you've interacted with the dragons here."
His expression freezes as though in instinctive fear, then brightens so dramatically that it can be seen even behind his slightly frosted lenses.
"I haven't… I haven't been anywhere near a dragon since the war. The second war, I mean. And… that was under regrettable circumstances." He squeezes Jo’s hands, this time less affectionately and more like someone who is bearing up under an unexpected stab of pain. "It would do my heart good to have more peaceful memories of the creatures, if you … believe they won't hold grudges, that is."
Jo's eyes shine with sympathy. "I don't believe they do. At least, well, the black ones are a bit irritable, but the dragon queen has been so kind. This whole region is full of their shrines, which… Oh, Kerlo, you'll have to see it. Is your mechanostrider nearby? Perhaps I could ride with you and point you in the right direction to go?"
"That sounds perfect," he says immediately, releasing her hands. Then, belatedly, he seems to realize how tightly he was gripping them and takes her hands again, more gently this time. He raises each to his lips in turn, then lets go and gestures for her to follow.
Kerlo's mechanostrider has been… tinkered with, clearly. As soon as he starts it up - an uncannily quiet sound - it begins to emit a lightless radiating heat from somewhere in its inner workings. Its front "eye light" has been removed and replaced with what appears to be a small… cannon? Its paint job is a near-exact match for the gray stone wall behind it.
He mounts up onto its furry "saddle" and holds a hand down to Jo to help her.
"Stealth model," he explains. "Something of a personal prototype I am hoping to put into wider use."
"Oh, that's clever," Jo says, taking his hand and climbing up onto the mechanostrider behind him. She wraps her arms around his waist and relaxes against his back, resting her head against his shoulder. "And useful, I would imagine, given all the dangers in the world one might want to avoid. You'll want to head west out of Wintergarde Keep, over the mountains, then south toward the coast. And with this we should be able to avoid any surprise magnataurs."
"All right then, let me just…" Kerlo fiddles with a few of the mechanostrider's settings, then drives it toward the main gate. Its well-oiled joints move with only the barest whisper of sound; they would be inaudible at any distance over the howling winter wind.
"How are you holding up?" he inquires in a soft, expressive tone that suggests it is not small talk; he truly wants to know.
Jo speaks quietly, perhaps to help avoid any stray magnataurs. "Better than I used to. It is so hard to keep track of every person in this Company, especially when they insist on going off in different places… but, I suppose I'm becoming accustomed to the chaos. Is that a good thing? I'm not sure. How about you? I know the 7th took heavy losses."
"Ah, not only in numbers, but in spirit," he says sorrowfully. "We are not accustomed to defeat, not on a large scale. It will take some time for us to regain our confidence and camaraderie, I think. So many have had their faith shaken. But no good tale of triumph was ever written without a moment so dark as this just before the final act."
"Then we must prevail," Jo murmurs into his shoulder, giving him a little comforting squeeze around the waist. "It would simply ruin the shape of the narrative, otherwise."
As they talk, they pass over the snowy mountains onto the frozen plains below, and soon the golden, snow-mantled shape of the Wyrmrest Temple comes into view on their right. Jo lifts one hand and points.
"That's not where we're going, but look," Jo relaxes a little against him. "Isn't it lovely? You can't even reach the upper levels except on dragon-back."
"It's magnificent," Kerlo agrees. "I'd love to talk to the architects about how they've managed to arrange the load-bearing portions of the structure that way and still have it stand up under stress, but it looks like something out of a picture book to be sure, and they must know what they're doing. Or perhaps it's magic," he adds thoughtfully. "I always forget about magic… Where to from here?"
"It could be magic," Jo nods. "Or perhaps something of both. I think the best ideas often have a little bit of both. We're headed south, down into that little gulch."
The mechanostrider moves swiftly across the snow-packed ground leaving triangular tracks until they head down into a gully, with sheer walls on either side. It looks just as dreary and forbidding as ever, until they turn a corner and see their destination.
The air shimmers with life and magic, and the flowers bloom in abundance. Healthy, mature trees put out leaves in defiance of the cold of Northrend, and the ground is covered with greenery and lush undergrowth.
Kerlo pushes back the hood of his gray coat, silver-platinum hair askew and eyes wide with wonder behind his wire-rimmed glasses. He stops the mechanostrider and dismounts, unbuttoning his coat entirely and slinging it over the saddle. He's dressed in a nice gray and lavender suit and waistcoat. Still gloved, he reaches up to help Jo down, as if she doesn't have Slow Fall.
"Miraculous," he says. "So she truly is the mother of life…?" Tears well up in his eyes as he looks up at Jo.
Jo takes his hand to dismount, and hesitates to let go afterward. She looks deep into his eyes with a soft smile, "Yes, isn't it wonderful? It's like another world in here. And what's more, the Scourge can't enter here. This is a place of life and nature, only. The green dragon aspect, Ysera, sleeps at the center of it all."
"Is that so?" He looks around again, wonderstruck.
Holding onto her hand, he begins to lead her deeper into the gully, stepping carefully so as not to crush as little as possible of the life flourishing under his feet.
"Tell me what you know of the dragons," he says, blinking away tears. "I know there are… five flights? Different colors? But I… well, I have avoided the topic for many years now. It is time that I remedied that. You say the green Aspect slumbers here, but I was told that the life-dragon was the red queen? The one whose children I fought so fiercely in the skies. Perhaps I was mistaken?" He looks as though he hopes he was.
Jo nods, her brow furrowing a little with concern as she watches Kerlo's expression. "There's five, yes. The dragon queen, the one they call the Life-Binder, is a red dragon. Queen Alexstrasza. I don't think she meant for her flight to be involved in the Second War, but I don't really know what happened there. It seems so… against life? And she and her flight came to the Wrathgate. You would have seen if you were there - flames, purifying the plague, and flowers blooming from the scorched earth."
"I heard stories of it, yes…" He looks away, focusing on the greenery around him and dabbing a thumb under one of his lower eyelids. "It was hard to imagine. When I think of red dragons I think of- well, no use dwelling on the past. And I'm certain you didn't come here to talk of war."
He turns his face back toward her and offers her an uncertain smile.
"No, not war," Jo smiles, a touch of uncertainty in it. "We haven't really had a chance to talk since after the Wrathgate, and I know… emotions were a little high."
"Ah yes. Of the two forces that drive sapient life, we have not come here to discuss the second, but the first." He stops his wandering, still holding her hand as he looks down at her, blinking long, pale, and slightly wet lashes. "I will have you know, Jocoza Sparkwire, that my emotions always run a little high where you are concerned. I apologize if it makes me seem reckless and imprudent at times. But if you desire to take back anything that was said, I understand that you are generally more level-headed, and I assure you that you are already forgiven for any wounds you are obligated to deal me."
Jo blushes gently as she looks up at him, lost in his eyes. "I don't. I don't want to take anything back. I just thought… it was all of a sudden, in the middle of war, and I know you were worried about both of us getting hurt. Are we… then… what are we?"
"I cannot speak for you, my dearest one. I can only tell you what you are to me. A hero for the ages, a leader of men and women, a delicate beauty and a fiery maelstrom. You are the last thing I think of when I fall asleep, and you are the reason I rise from my bunk in the morning. You give me reason to fight, and to dream. Since you have allowed me to call you 'mine,' I have done so at every opportunity, to anyone who will listen - I have constructed entire sentences for the sole purpose of inserting into them that blessed possessive pronoun that tastes sweeter on my tongue than sin'dorei wine. But I can only speak for myself, and I understand that your practicality is just as necessary to guide us toward the future as my… enthusiasm." His dimple shows again, despite the tears in his eyes.
Jo's own eyes glisten. "Then I can tell you what you are to me. I had not thought to find something like this again, that I'd already had and lost the share of love allotted for my existence here on Azeroth. I mean, there's love of course, as I love my friends, but that's a different sort of thing." Jo pauses for a moment, searching for words, and then says, "Knowing you were here, in Northrend, it was a little bright spot in my mind, in a landscape full of death. To me, you're like this dragonshrine - a unexpected alcove of beauty and peace, when all around might be violence. In my darkest moments, I can still dream of sitting with you above Loch Modan, listening to you play your mandolin. And I want to share that peace with you. I want to belong to it. So… I'm…" Jo giggles nervously. "Maybe I'm not as eloquent at speaking my feelings as you are."
"No, no, you're perfect," Kerlo insists ardently. Then he gives a little laugh of his own. "It's strange — all my life people have been telling me that I am all too ready to believe anything — and yet I find myself having trouble believing that of all the people in this world, all of those you have met in your travels - that you would choose to love me. I see the evidence before my eyes, and have for quite some time, and so I do believe it. But it seems there must be some magic involved somewhere." He strokes his silver-blond goatee thoughtfully.
"You think I'm compelled?" Jo raises an eyebrow. "Or maybe it's just that for all the people you've believed in, it's hardest to believe in yourself. If you can't see it, then I… I'll try to be a mirror for you. So you can see, from me, how precious you are." Jo leans up toward him, an invitation to a kiss.
Kerlo reaches out to take her face very gently between his hands, taking a moment simply to gaze at it as though preparing to draw it or be tested on it, before leaning in to kiss her, one thumb stroking her cheek. He draws back after a moment just to look at her again.
"See in my eyes…" Jo murmurs, gazing up at him with adoration. "A brilliant engineer who still sees poetry and music in the world, after everything. With eyes like magic. And who kisses like…" Jo stretches upward, to touch her lips to his again.
One of Kerlo's hands moves to the back of her head, fingertips tracing the part in her hair; the other moves to rest between her shoulder blades, drawing her closer. He kisses her with enough ardor to bend her backward slightly, but his arm supports her easily enough to make her feel weightless. They form quite the pretty little picture for quite a long moment, there among the green growing things, and then he pulls back again, searching her eyes.
"What now?" he asks her ambiguously, lilac eyes alight behind his slightly fogged lenses.
Jo rests against his hand, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. "…Today? Perhaps we can see Ysera together. The green… dream… nature dragon. And then find a nice quiet corner to… spend some time together."
Kerlo's cheeks slowly flush pink, but he nods. "I think that sounds… well, quite dreamlike. A perfect dream that I would like to stay in as long as possible. I don't suppose a nature dragon would object to… perfectly natural things occurring in her domain."
"I can't imagine why she would," Jo smiles gently. "From what I've been told, she prefers good dreams. As for after, we still have our war. But maybe we can find time, here and there, for more beautiful things?"
"Yes," he exhales, almost a sigh. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close for a moment, kissing the part in her hair, then draws back and slips one of his hands into hers, intertwining her four fingers with his. "Lead the way, my love."