Work Text:
“Do you think I should accept the position of Guardian?”
Lothar continued to work on the set of orders he was writing, not looking up. “Sure.”
The extended sigh was exasperated. “Just…sure?”
“What do I know about mages and being the Guardian? If you want to do it, do it.” He signed his signature with a flourish, tapped sand over the parchment and blew it clean. When he glanced up, Khadgar was frowning. “Well, I don’t. You’re the one who said that no single person should be responsible etcetera and so forth.”
Khadgar sat back in the chair and stretched. “I still think it, but the members of the Tirisguard are being insistent. They keep telling me that one failure in a line of successes should not define the role as a whole.”
“Well, if you don’t feel confident, tell them to get someone else for the job.” He folded the sheet, poured on a blob of wax and affixed his seal. “Its not like you’re the only mage in the world.”
“I am however the only mage trained to be the Guardian. They’d have to go through the whole selection and training program from scratch. It would take years.” Khadgar picked up one of the quills and started pealing the barbs from it. “One day they think I’m too untrustworthy, unreliable and unpredictable, and next day I’m lacking in a sense of responsibility by not undertaking my important rightful duties to the Order and to Azeroth as a whole.” The aggrieved tone made Lothar’s mouth kink up at one corner.
“Oh woe is poor young Khadgar,” he said, dipping the quill back in the ink bottle. “Shoved face first into responsibility. You could always run away and take up a new career. A librarian perhaps. You’d like that.”
“You’re a big help.” Khadgar leant across the table and twirled the mangled feather against Lothar’s ear. He swatted it away with a sigh.
“Can you see I’m trying to work here? I have a whole raft of Orders to draw up, plus answers to correspondence from King Magni, plus I need to draw up a schedule for the next Alliance council meeting…”
“Boooring.” The feather drifted back. Lothar snatched it out of Khadgar’s hand and glared.
“Can you find something constructive to do? Go…turn some innocent citizen into a badger or magick me up a reliable assistant with a decent writing hand.”
A foot touched his ankle under the table. It began sliding up his leg. He looked across at Khadgar under lowered brows. Khadgar smiled the smile of innocence. Finally, Lothar dropped the quill and folded both hands on the table. “You are asking for trouble, young man.”
“Me? I’m seeking the advice of the Lord Commander in a matter of critical concern to Azeroth.”
“Is that why you’re rubbing my leg under the table? I thought it was because you were bored and undecided about the whole Guardian thing and you thought you’d share your frustration with me.”
Khadgar gave an exaggerated shrug, but the leg kept moving, sliding up towards his groin. “Far be it from me to disagree with an older, wiser mind. Really older. Almost ancient….”
Lothar reached under the desk, grabbed the offending foot and shoved it backwards. Khadgar tumbled over the chairback onto the floor with a loud oomph!
“Ow!” He came to his feet, rubbing his head. “That hurt. I could have been really injured.”
“No, you just hit your silly head. Thickest part of you.”
Khadgar dragged the chair around the side of the desk and sat it next to Lothar with a bang. “You are a harsh man. But I’m serious, I really do need your advice. And your assistance. “ He fingerwalked his left hand across the table towards Lothar’s arm. “And your help. I really need your help.”
Lothar sighed again, the sound of a man pushed beyond hope of getting anything he’d planned done. He grabbed the wandering hand and held it still. He turned and looked into Khadgar’s bright, interested eyes. “You are a trial, do you know that? How can I get any work done when you are in this mood?”
Khadgar slipped out of the chair, edged the table away with his hip and slid onto Lothar’s lap. “I know, I really am a trial. The Kirin Tor think so too. Though I don’t,” he drawled, as he placed his lips in the warm spot behind Lothar’s nearest ear, “have any wish to do this. Or this,” as he shifted his lips down across Lothar’s chin to his mouth. He hovered over it, looking into Lothar’s dark, steady gaze. “They really wouldn’t appreciate it. Such a bunch of old antiques…”
A hand latched onto the back of his head and pulled him forward. At the same time he flicked one hand out, gesturing to the door, which closed and locked with a click. Lothar’s kiss was strong and delicious, utterly commanding and Khadgar wrapped his arms about Lothar, felt strong arms slide around his back, pulling him closer. He closed his eyes as pleasure bloomed in his middle at the sensations he would never grow tired off; the strong hands, the powerful body, the taste of the man, so perfect. How he would slide his tongue inside Khadgar’s mouth, tasting him, opening him and being opened in return.
Lothar’s mouth moved from his lips up to his cheek,sliding across his face, his breath stirring the hair around Khadgar’s ear. He latched onto Khadgar’s neck, biting him just hard enough to mark him, then licking the skin with a quick lap of his tongue. Lothar swept both hands up to frame his face, the tips of his fingers stroking through Khadgar’s hair.
“You know, whatever you decide to do,” he said softly, his voice rough with desire, the sound of which always made Khadgar’s heart race, “I’ll back you. Guardian or not, I’ll be there for you.”
“I know.” He eyed the pile or parchments on the desk. “Are you finished working now? I think we should talk about my career path somewhere quiet. I know this room not far away that has a really nice bed…”
Lothar chuckled and kissed him again, and he groaned as those big, deadly hands circled under his buttocks. Then he was lifted up by those same hands and set down on the floor.
“Lead on, my spellchucker. I can tell I’ll get no more work done today.”
“Well,” Khadgar said, as he went to unlock the door, “at least not that sort of work….”