(2024-09-22) Cupcakes and Finances (Post Squad Log)

Details

Author:	Athena
Summary:	After the last of the Twilight's Hammer infiltration with Blue Squad, Colson returns home with Mordecai for celebration cupcakes and to decide what the paladin will do next when the mountain is secured. 4300~ words.
Rating:	T for Teen

Chain: Morson

A Written Prayer

It begins with the symbol of the Gift of the Naaru.

M'uru, O'ros, this man is a good man. Shelter him today, for he must walk through darkness. I will shine as his Light in the face of the Void. He shall not know despair.

The symbol of the Fear Ward.

Colson, I love you. The Twilight's Hammer may not claim you, for you are already mine. I will see you soon, always and forever, your Beacon, your Light, your Mordecai.

Telaar, Nagrand

Mordecai is practically vibrating with excitement as he climbs the ramp, holding on to Colson's hand and the strangely-shaped 'key' to open the door to their inn room. It does not get put into a lock, it gets held up to a panel, and Mordecai gets it backwards about half the time. He gets it right today, and he smiles very proudly as if that was an intentional success and not just luck. "Got it!"

Colson smiles gently at his husband. "Well done," he says sincerely, as he opens the door to their inn room, looking over the interior, the shadows, before he steps inside with a graceful stride. The heavy tension Colson has carried for the past week seems mostly lifted, although there is no matching jubilation of the conclusion of the Twilight's Hammer infiltration mission, only the thoughtful stoic consideration of a man who often turns his attention to the trajectory of his soul.

Mordecai pulls the door shut and sets his belongings down on the side table. "We're home."

Colson nods, turning in place as he sets a hand against the door. "Welcome home," he says gently, leaning towards Mordecai.

Mordecai knows this cue. That means it's welcome home kiss time. He kisses his husband.

"You made it," Mordecai says happily. "Everyone is still themselves."

Colson nods again in agreement. "Yes," he says, seriously. "I don't know if there will be any lingering cracks in anyone's mind from what we have done, or if there was not enough to touch any of us deeply. We were not exposed to any of their darker literature, and there were none of the bones of the Old Gods that I could sense, but we were within their ranks, acting as though we were part of them. Velrin in particular was chosen as the second option of all new recruits to give a speech for the graduation into their full ranks, and as we ensured the elimination of the first, it was she who did so, proselytizing to the masses well enough to fool them."

Mordecai reaches for the straps of one pauldron. "Love, it's all right. If you'd like, though, I can check up on Velrin the next time we speak together."

"Of course," Colson agrees, moving to aid in the removal of his armor. "She played the part as she needed, but it is always difficult to reject something wholeheartedly at the same time as seeming to embrace it, and of all of us, she was the most adept at the falsehood of appearing willing and eager to spread death."

Mordecai happily helps remove his husband's armor, not in any real hurry about it today. "I'll speak with her about it, then," he promises. "Is there anything else you're worried about?"

Colson shakes his head. "No, that is the only one. Jarod Shadowsong will take the lead of the kaldorei army, and Ysera will continue to guide it. Going forward, we will be able to mount an offense against Twilight's Hammer in the mountain, and as we exploited the weakness of their organization between ogre and non-ogre to such a disruptive effect, they are not likely to have the necessary strength to reinforce. When they are removed from the mountain, then I shall invite Cressidha to come see it in its glory."

Mordecai removes his boots while he's still by the door. "I'm very proud of all of you. Were you able to get much of an impression of Jarod Shadowsong as a leader…?"

"No, we assisted him briefly, and he made his own way through the mountain to meet with us and Ysera," Colson reports.

"Mmm… all right." Mordecai nuzzles Colson's cheek affectionately. "It's probably too early to celebrate, I'm just… really relieved that you're done dealing with them for now."

Colson smiles faintly, setting a hand against the back of Mordecai's head, fingers gentle over the curls. "As am I, at least in this way. Let it be straightforward from here, as clear enemies for what they stand for."

Mordecai curls protectively around Colson. "My Colson. I was useful today, too. Mostly healing burns."

"Yours," Colson agrees, kissing Mordecai's temple. "Very well done. I am glad to know that you are there."

"Mmm." Mordecai smiles dreamily. "I kind of want to make cupcakes."

Colson's brows raise. "For us, or for them, or for both?"

Mordecai blushes. "Oh. Well, I meant for us, but…"

Colson waits for the end of the sentence.

Mordecai clears his throat. "I only have the one muffin-cupcake pan now," he says sheepishly.

Colson nods. "Would you like to buy more to make more, or would you like to make cupcakes today for us?"

With the two options presented, Mordecai is able to more confidently say, "I would like to make cupcakes today for us, please. Well, if you'd like them?"

Colson smiles gently, brushing a curl at Mordecai's ear in an attempt to get it to obey order. It resists. Chaos only. "Yes, I would like them."

Mordecai gives Colson a quick hug. "I could use a shower before I touch anything food-related. Would you like to join me?"

Colson's answer is as predictable as ever, the paladin consistent in many ways, and this not the least of them. "Yes."

Time Passes

Everyone's favorite snail-timer, Snocoza, glows and vibrates on the nightstand. An hour has passed since the cupcakes were taken out of the oven - it is frosting time. The room smells like vanilla cupcakes.

Mordecai has, however, succumbed to a nap. He has curled up in his pajamas using Colson as a pillow, and he barely stirs as the light from the timer brightens the room.

Colson goes from being an excellent paladin pillow, still and warm, to being an unruly one of movement, as he leans over his husband to turn off the alarm before it vibrates clean off the edge of the nightstand.

Mordecai makes a disgruntled noise as he's displaced. "Mngh. 'lson?" He rubs at his eyes with both hands.

"Hello, Beautiful," Colson says, smiling at Mordecai with soft eyes. "It was Snocoza. The cupcakes should be fully cooled now." This explanation is given with the full knowledge that he will likely be repeating exactly this as Mordecai finishes rebooting.

"We're married," Mordecai says with unmitigated delight. "That's right. I'm awake and you're my husband. Hi."

There's that flicker of something in Colson's expression, a brief dismay, but he smiles faintly again, nodding in reassurance, as he brushes Mordecai's cheek with a warm hand. "Yes. We are married. I am your husband, now and always, and you are awake once more." In continuing good news, he continues, with nothing in his tone to suggest he's repeating himself, "The cupcakes we made are cooled, and we may now frost them."

"Oh, that's right!" Mordecai pulls Colson in for a quick kiss before clambering out of bed. "Cupcakes. That's right, I was… yes." He holds a hand out to Colson, because what if they were touching at all times, actually?

That's Colson's dream world, and — as it turns out — his near reality. He takes Mordecai's hand, rising to a graceful stand. "Was it the Nightmare dream again?" He asks mildly, some concern in his voice.

"No," Mordecai says reassuringly, and squeezes Colson's hand once as he leads him across the room to the kitchen. "In the dream… we were younger. In the army." He blushes for no obvious reason except perhaps the content of the dream he had.

Colson's grin flashes — a moment of making him seem as young as that man many years gone past — with the glimpse of that slightly crooked incisor of his smile, and his eyes are still warm and smiling, tracing the blush on Mordecai's face, as he says, "Ah. I see." Then, without an ounce of affected innocence, knowing very well what he's asking, he asks in that over-serious voice, "What happened in this dream of our youth in the army?"

Mordecai looks a little wistful, and a little shy. He removes a container of frosting from the snowflake-embroidered Cold Bag and sets it on the counter before turning to Colson. He starts off looking at Colson's chin as he speaks, but as he continues, he pushes himself to make eye contact. "You were… upset, and alone. In Theramore. And I found you, and I-I wasn't yours yet, but I held you and I told you… that I saw you, and it would get better, and you'd never be alone again, and you just needed to find me in the future."

Colson moves to the side of the counter, leaning his hip against it, watching Mordecai speak as though this is the most fascinating and important thing anyone has ever said, his hand moving in slow arcs across the back of Mordecai's hand at this revelation. "Perhaps you did, not in a physical way, but in some prayer to the Light of your dreams, it traveled through a connection of love and faith, and was that which granted me strength when I prayed to the Light for guidance in my darker hours. I have always felt sure that so long as I walked in the Light's glory, then I would find paradise in it, the rightness of myself and my own place in the universe, and so I have, my faith rewarded here and I believe it will be eternally, when we return to the Light at the end of this journey."

"Light, Light, send a Knight," Mordecai recites, teasing but also a little serious, too. "Make him Bright and full of Light." He no longer has the original copy of that poem he wrote as a child: it was ruined when the pipes burst during the Cataclysm.

Colson smiles wider, inclining his head. "Just so," he says, a little echo of his sister.

Mordecai hugs Colson's arm affectionately and then steps behind him to tie his hair up into the official kitchen half-ponytail.

Colson leans his head back slightly, eyes closing like a cat getting pets, as he obediently holds still for his hair to be done for Kitchen Rules.

"Beautiful." Mordecai fusses over it for a moment longer, then washes his hands and puts on an apron in preparation. Time to get the frosting in the piping bag.

Colson is in his preferred duties as Helper, and does so accordingly. He's on Holding The Bag Duty while Mordecai scoops it in, to the envy of all bakers who have wished they had an extra pair of hands while doing this inevitably awkward task.

The singular muffin-cupcake pan that Mordecai now owns supports six (6) cupcakes. Mordecai moves them in their little baking cups onto the counter in a line. He ices one first as an example, starting in the center of the cupcake and moving outwards in a swirl that - due to the tip he has selected for the piping bag - makes it look almost like a little flower on top of the cupcake. "Would you like to try a few?" Mordecai offers. "I can guide your hand for one if you'd like."

Colson smiles but shakes his head. "No, it is all right, thank you. I am enjoying watching you do it," he says, leaning his hip on the side of the counter, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, watching Mordecai with a soft gaze, settled into the moment peacefully, a tranquility of normalcy.

Mordecai nods and continues frosting the cupcakes, nice and neat, until one (1) unfrosted cupcake remains. "Would you make me one?" he asks, aiming a hopeful look at Colson.

Colson's smile grows a little further, as he straightens. "Ah," he says, all solemn tone and sparkling with humor eyes. "I would do anything for you. That does include making a wobbly, unevenly frosted cupcake." He moves closer to Mordecai, stepping behind the relatively smaller man, bracing his hands on the counter to either side of him, leaning in to set his cheek against his husband's, his voice low and soft. "I would be pleased to have you guide me in making your cupcake."

Mordecai leans back against Colson, closing his eyes. "Mmm. I love you." There's a moment where the goalposts shift from 'frost cupcakes' to 'enjoy husband's closeness' before Mordecai opens his eyes and gets them both back on task. "Here." He sets the piping bag in Colson's hand, adjusting his grip properly, and then rests his hand on top of Colson's. "Honestly, I will also accept a full mountain of frosting. A Mt. Hyjal cupcake."

Mordecai is rewarded by this image with one of Colson's laughs, low and warm and brief, the sensation of it more than just sound as his chest moves against Mordecai's back, a soft hum of vibration. "It would certainly be appropriate for the occasion," Colson agrees, kissing Mordecai's jaw. Colson's usual problems involving all things butter based apply, his hands over warm and liable to melt, and the frosting has already been out and moving through the other cupcakes, but at the least it won't be so quick a melting that the frosting will be an unintentional buttercream soup glaze. The longer Colson holds onto it, however, the more heat he transfers, and so he begins the squeeze of it similar to how he knows how to do piping for eclairs. The good part is that he's likely going to get the frosting out evenly. The bad news is that he needs to make an entirely different shape, and Colson is struggling with the correct speed to put it a circle, and he didn't put a stabilizing dot in the center for him to connect the exterior piped frosting to.

Mordecai gently guides Colson's hand in a slow spiral. "Even pressure, that's right." He will eat a mountain of frosting.

Colson can do Even Pressure. He is a pro at doing things evenly, and steadily. The lack of skill shows mostly in the awkwardness of the rounding shape, the frosting dipping to the sides as if in a sleepy slump, and attempts to correct this by moving the piping bag in the opposite direction only leads to a breakage of the frosting, the line falling over half the exterior of the cupcake like a fair tower maiden letting down her hair for a prince. "Ah," Colson says with a faint dismay.

He doesn't stop, however, as he puts the tip back to the bulk of the frosting, trying to fill in the middle into the same neat mini-frosting mountains as Mordecai's cupcakes, swirling into the spiral without building on the center dollop or the sides of the established frosting, leading to a squat, awkward flattish curled frosting shape. "It would seem I have discovered a way to make a molehill out of a mountain," Colson says in a dry, self-deprecating voice.

Mordecai laughs quietly and swipes the stray frosting on the side of the cupcake up with one finger to lick it off.

Colson smiles gently, his eyes tracing a line around Mordecai's mouth, his attention leaving the cupcake for the cinnamon roll. "Is that sufficient for the cupcake to be called 'frosted?'" he asks, relaxing his grip on the pastry bag.

"Yes, I think so." Mordecai picks up his cupcake. "Exactly what I wanted."

With this, Colson sets the frosting bag to the side, and uses his now free hands to wrap his arms around Mordecai's waist with a hmm.

Mordecai leans back against Colson and peels the wrapper off to eat his cupcake, holding a hand underneath it to catch crumbs. "It tastes better because you helped."

Colson hums happily, smiling enough that those faint lines near his eyes — stronger than they were three years ago, the marks of many years out in the sun in stressful combat situations — show.

Mordecai finishes up his cupcake, wipes his fingers off, and turns around in Colson's arms to face Colson. "Hi."

"Hello, Beautiful," Colson says softly, leaning forward to kiss the edge of Mordecai's mouth, a gentle movement as if it's now Mordecai that has a little of frosting on the edge to lick off. There's only those few signs in the paladin that suggest the long day he's had, the trials of finishing up the training of Twilight's Hammer, the slaying of an ogre on his way to make a graduation speech, the flight through the mountains to reconvene with Ysera. He stands straight and tall, holding Mordecai easily in his arms, relaxed in his home now, able to "march" for some time yet, and content to not need to do so.

Mordecai kisses him properly. It's cupcake-flavored. "Better?"

"Always," Colson answers, honestly and predictably. He exhales slowly, watching Mordecai with that relaxed expression to his stoic features. "And tomorrow to come, a Normal Day, one made more so knowing that next week there will be no threat to the sanctity of my soul or sanity by death cult infiltration." Small gifts.

Mordecai rests his hands on Colson's shoulders. "What comes next? After the mountain is safe?"

"Ah, well." Colson moves his fingers idly on Mordecai's hips, stroking touches that seem more for the feedback sensation than any particular direction of encouragement to do anything more. "I have been asked by the Silver Hand as part of the Argent Crusade to attend to Stratholme as they establish their foothold within it. I intend to accept the duty, for so long as I may, in the time off from Cobalt Company's forward squad, assuming there is one after the mountain has been secured." He hesitates and then, "I confess, I hope to use the summons as a paladin to override any potential summoning of the kingdom on my knighthood to be asked to defend the borders against the Horde directly."

Mordecai goes a little paler and mutters, "Shit. I didn't even - I didn't even consider that they might."

Colson inclines his head. "I may no longer be of the army, but I am still bound to the king's word as a knight," he says gently. "But so too am I a knight of the Silver Hand by vows long ago taken, and it will not be treason of defiance to allow myself be ordered thus by Sir Fordring as part of that, in orders that keep me from responding to a call, unless by direct name. If His Majesty calls me so, I will answer."

Mordecai presses his cheek to Colson's. "Stratholme, then. That… might be a more difficult commute than Mt. Hyjal. Should we stay somewhere closer…?"

"Cressidha mentioned that they have established portals in Stratholme, but I shall need to see for myself how the commute is for us, and if I will be expected to stay there every night or not," Colson says, resting against Mordecai.

"Back to having a life you can just pack up in a bag again," Mordecai says a little sadly.

Colson pulls back only just far enough to be able to look at Mordecai's expression, searching it like a man patting his pockets as he wonders if he's left his key at home. "Yes," he agrees. "It is not the worst of fates, and I am well used to it, and so equally sure that it does not need be permanent so long as we do not wish it to be. Does it bother you?"

"Yes," Mordecai says in a small voice. "It bothers me." He sounds guilty, like this is a confession of some kind, but he meets Colson's eyes. "I wish it didn't, but it bothers me."

"There is nothing to be ashamed of in the wanting," Colson says gently. "We both spent many long years living in a place without a home, and it is not unworthy to not wish there was no need to return to it, having thought ourselves assured of such a home for our years to come." He keeps his eyes on Mordecai's face, that searching look. "What would you want of us, now? To wait and save until we can gain another ideal home with whatever time that may be, or take what we have and find something sooner to fit ourselves in place at least temporarily that suits us well enough?"

Mordecai hesitates. "I don't know. It feels like I'm being greedy to want another home when so many people are without one right now. And I do like it here, a lot. I'm really glad we're able to be here. But… I don't know."

"It is not a pressing issue that we must decide now," Colson says. "There is nothing greedy about wanting a home. It is what many want. In a perfect world, all would have it as they want it, but we do not improve another's situation by denying ourselves what we can have so that we may live close to those that we can assist. It does not help or serve them for us to abstain from a place to live, and we cannot help all with what we do have if we were to give up our money. All we can do is see to our needs, and spend our life in service to all."

"I'm… thinking." Mordecai gives Colson a kiss on the cheek and steps back so he can remove and hang up his apron. "Would you like me to put the cupcakes in a container?" he asks.

"Yes. I should not eat them all today, for many reasons," Colson says, as he also steps back, to give Mordecai room to maneuver. He also removes his apron, moving to hang it up properly. He leaves his hair tied up. That's for Mordecai to remove.

Mordecai puts away the cupcakes and cleans up the kitchen, frowning a little in thought the whole time.

Colson sees to the helping of the kitchen, content in the silence, unhurried in his waiting as Mordecai thinks.

When Mordecai is done, he crosses to the desk and looks into the mirror above it. He sighs.

"Hm?"

"Do you think I should come to Stratholme with you?" Mordecai asks.

Colson blinks in surprise. "If I will be stationed there in the stronghold, I would want you there with me," Colson says. "I would not want to be apart from you for so long. There must be private rooms available, or some that are meant for two to be shared that we could do so, beyond the main barracks. If you would rather not be there in such a way, then I will commute from there to here."

Mordecai turns towards Colson, holding his hands out. "I wouldn't want us to be separated, either," he says. "They didn't, um, invite me. I don't know if I'd… get paid, working there?"

"I do not believe I will be offered any monetary compensation. This is my duty and call as a paladin of the order," Colson says. "I know they would not turn away help, but I would expect it would be…charitable help, offered as a servant of the Light."

Mordecai wilts, sitting down on the stool by the desk facing outward. "They pay me in Shattrath's hospital," he says, looking visibly torn.

Colson nods. "And I would have more work here if I could stay, but then I would have no reason to not heed the call for the knights of the kingdom. It is possible there are bounties and work available through Cobalt Company in the Plaguelands, but I would not necessarily be available to work them except on days or times when I was not considered needed in the city."

Mordecai makes a small noise of distress and wraps his arms around himself. "I don't want to give up our only source of income."

Colson steps forward to add his own arms to wrap around Mordecai. "If we worked those bounties in the Plaguelands, we would have a source of income. It would be limited, and unpredictable as the nature of contract work is, but it would not be nothing."

Mordecai immediately reaches for Colson, pulling him in closer. "I could sanctify holy water," he offers. "In the Plaguelands. I know they need it. And I know the prayers for it. I don't know if I could get paid for that, but… it's something I could do. To help."

Colson nods. "There are many opportunities for assisting and serving," he agrees.

Mordecai exhales slowly. "It's a good idea, and a very valid excuse to have in place. I think you need that. I agree you should go. And I don't want you to be alone there." He swallows. "I don't know if I'll be able to sleep there."

"Hm." Colson sets his hands gently on Mordecai's back, one moving in soft strokes up and down. "We will need to see what the options are. We can only speculate at present, until we have more information. I can make inquiries, ahead of, if you would like, or we can go together and see for ourselves what is to be expected."

Mordecai slowly seems to begin to relax. "Mmm. It's true. Um, you could ask? And then we'll go see when we both have a day off."

"I will ask," Colson promises. "We can go this week, if you would like, perhaps on Thursday? Few world shattering events and disasters seem to happen on Thursdays." It's almost like Azeroth only updates its world on Tuesdays.

Mordecai nods and stands up to hold onto his husband properly. "I love you."

Colson rises with him. "I love you," he echoes back. "Whatever the future holds, whatever changes there will be, that will not alter."

Mordecai hums quietly in agreement, tension gradually bleeding away. They'll be together, and the rest will just have to work itself out.