#mugara

The fireworks display was dazzling as usual, year after year. Mona had managed to spend Mugara’s with him, before sneaking off to be with Semmi for hers. She’d never been so glad for time zone differences in her afterlife.

“The end of the week? That’s fast,” the blood elf murmured, leaning against the balcony railing, ankles crossed behind her.

Semmi gave a soft shrug, adjusting her dress so her chest was more evenly covered. “I wish it were sooner, in some cases. I can’t wait to get out of here and start something new, but I already miss the kids, Charam. Not sure I’d miss Electra even if I loved her,” she grinned faintly. “It’ll take a while for that to set in. I’ll know I’ve been gone a while when that happens.”

“You’ll be back before that,” Mona seemed confident, glancing over at her. “Plus, the way they work, you’ll be able to come and go often enough. It’s like my work, except you aren’t dead.”

The redhead grinned, chin rested in her palm. “I am really looking forward to it, despite the downsides. It’s been a while since I felt like I actually made myself useful. I know Alkahest needs me too, but much less than it has, and there isn’t anything Electra and Charam can’t handle together, if need be. And the kids moved on to dedicated tutors...”

It was lucky they had been outside, but maybe not so much for Croaks, who had to dodge specially aimed fireworks from Eric Maglas down below. She ripped a piece of her dress from the hem and enchanted it, handing it back to the vulture for payment in its way, taking the letter in trade as it flew off.

Mona’s head tilted, red hair cascading down her shoulder, much less natural looking than the human’s. “What is it this time? Did Mugara send something?”

“No,” Semmi murmured, eyebrows up, and looked back at her friend. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” The blood elf straightened. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

“Two bells,” she whispered, looking over the letter again before handing it to her.

Mona looked it over fast and then went back to the fireworks. “Huh,” she said, letting her hand hang, letter still held. “Well. Happy fuckin’ new year. How about that. And don’t listen to Kurel, bring what you like, and bunk with Mugara.”

“What is he like, anyway?” Semmi wondered, grabbing a glass of sparkling apple juice.

The blood elf took in a deep breath. Well. Truth was it was a long story. He was dead. He was a once-dead asshole who made mistakes constantly and didn’t care what was right or wrong, just had one way: his. He was stubborn, stupid, forgetful, rude, inconsiderate, and most of what he did wasn’t legal in most countries.

She shifted in her spot and found the apple juice, the minutes inching closer to midnight.

“You won’t like him at first,” she started, watching the display, distant. “He’s too much like us. Stubborn. Probably an alcoholic, too, and he gets himself into too much trouble. You’re going to butt heads with him often, but if you’re absolutely certain that you’re right, do not budge. Fight. Yell. Don’t let him make you lay down. Don’t lose your fire.

“Beside that, he’s rude, swindling, dangerous, and tries to smooth-talk with a dead on poker face. I could give you an exact count of how many times he’s died, if I was permitted into his file, but I can tell you it isn’t zero,” she finished.

Semmi’s head leaned back, and for all of the alarming things that her friend had said, her expression was rather calm.

“Fragmented to hell and back, and still somehow decent enough for Mugara to work for him, and for you to not tell me to stay away,” the mage said, drinking the juice.

Mona sighed, resting her chin in her hand, grinning over at her. “It’s bullshit,” she declared. “But his soul isn’t totally black.”

“That’s all I need,” she returned, kissing her softly on the lips as the clocks chimed to midnight, signalling the new year. 

“Did he ever come back?” Mona asked, hands on the edge of the boat side that she had perched on.

“Who?” Mugara rumbled, slicing at the pear he had in his large hand, glancing up at her with squinted eyes from the sunlight.

She took in a breath, basking in the uncommon heat of the port during the cooler season. Her shoulders rolled forward as she leaned in that direction, gaze sweeping through the market idly. It was a moment longer before she returned his glance. “Volatile.”

The large orc frowned, popping a piece of pear in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. Sweat was beading through the bandana he wore to keep his thick hair back. It was one of those days where he was wishing for a genetic disposition to baldness in his family, because at least that would give him some kind of relief. The armor could come off, too, but there was no telling what could happen on this ship.

“I’m not sure,” he said, matching her look. “I know he was there for the meeting after Kurel passed. He and Ilithye said they’d be at Saeris’ side, but they went off somewhere and all I’ve heard was that they sent word they’d be loyal to their promise, if need came up.”

The blood elf sighed. “How is it that he can get away better than you can, and he has stronger ties to this ship?”

“Don’t be bitter,” he grinned at her, offering a slice of pear. “He had better ties when  Kurel ran things.”

Her brow twitched, and she grinned faintly, amused, as she took the offered slice. “He doesn’t even know, does he?”

“Nope,” Mugara said, turning his attention back to the gangplank.

“Is anyone going to inform him...?” She wondered.

“Probably not. He’ll be back. Let him figure it out for himself,” the orc murmured, an inflexion in his tone that his wife couldn’t put her finger on at first.

It was familiar, at least, something she had heard several times before, especially in her line of work. Trying to figure out where she’d heard it before helped, tracing it back to different voices and different phrases that held the tone. Sacred things, usually, like not burying someone in the ground whose culture would normally burn them at sea. Or telling another person to cease in action that was disrespectful to--

Her head shook. “You don’t think anyone has a right to tell him, do you?”

He gave a sigh so heavy it seemed to shake loose all the weight in his shoulders. “I never said that, but no, I feel like he needs to see it for himself.” His voice lowered. “He’s owed that much, don’t you think?”

She grinned softly, leaning forward to press her nose to his shoulder. “I knew I loved you for a reason,” she half teased.

“Oh good,” he grinned back at her, handing her another slice. “I was beginning to think you married me for the sea.”

“What did I tell you?” Mona gloated at him pointedly, after a swat to the back of his head. “I said, ‘He’s blind, not stupid.’”

Mugara almost regreted it, sighing as he took the short letter and note back from his wife. “Are you done being proud of yourself yet?” He muttered at her. “He never showed any sign of knowing. He never even mentioned it.”

“It’s his ship, Mugara Zungen,” she reminded him, much like she’d reprimand a child if they had one, her arms crossed over her chest. “He had arcane runes all over, that thing was like a chattering mistress in his ear constantly. He knew what happened to it, it was tuned to him.”

He snorted, flushing, embarrassed. Their walk on the docks was meant to be slow and gentle and relaxing, but he should have known better when he showed her the letter.

She backed down finally, letting a breath whirl out as she did, like she was deflating. “But he never punished you,” she reminded him, more gently, her hand settling on his wrist. “He wasn’t going to kick you off the ship for that, and now, Saeris is even interested in keeping you around. You’re doing better than you worried about for so long.”

The orc gave her a leveled glance and shook his head. His concern about having oversights and not giving enough attention to the ship was still there, even now, after the odd encounter the other day with Perry and Q.

“The support pillar was never going to be a problem,” he tried to convince himself. “It was just my inability to do my job in my old age.”

He got another smack to the back of the head for that. “You know,” he sighed, rubbing at the back of his head. “One of these days I’m going to get you for domestic abuse.”

“Then stop doubting yourself,” she threatened, pointing at him, arms falling to her sides before she looked back at the horizon. “You led armies for years before you finally left, and you only did so out of choice. You and I both know it was going to take years for anyone to question retiring you from their forces until you absolutely had to, by age requirement. Don’t you dare use that tired line of being too old when you know it isn’t true.”

The warrior admittedly loved when she got passionate, when she roared proclamations about what was or wasn’t. Even when it was against him, her adamance to remind him of things he was dismissing was something to behold. And it humbled the hell out of him.

“If Saeris wants a tired old orc,” he dared test her, and grinned as she gave him an exasperated expression, “then I’ll take him up on the offer. Things won’t be the same without Kurel, but I am eager to see what Saeris will do. He’s a good man, that one, of less questionable values, though I think he doubts himself more than I do.”

“I think you may have the monopoly on doubting yourself, dear,” she teased him, her arm linking with his as they came to halt at the end of the dock. “He’ll come into his own eventually. Even if it takes Kurel’s passing to do so.”

Mugara let out a sigh and nodded, looking across the horizon. He wasn’t sure what there was to say about the blind captain, not that he knew much about him to begin with. What he saw, though, he realized, may have been enough.

Hot-headed. Angry. Tortured. Strong. Stubborn. Withstanding. Sometimes the orc confused him with a statue for how much shit he put up with, but even then he made it clear he wasn’t tolerant of it. He was rough around the edges to be certain, that went without saying, but he was good at his core, however many layers it took to get there.

He was going to miss him on some level. He breathed life into that ship, like everyone did, but he did on a caliber that was unparalleled. Nothing would be the same without him, but somehow, they’d make it through.

“It’ll be hard on him,” he remarked, finally, out of the silence, and glanced back at Mona as she looked at him. “Saeris. It’s one thing to be handed the reins temporarily, but now he has a lot more responsibility on his shoulders. I have faith, though. Kurel made it look easy, but the young one will find his way.”

“You know,” she started, rocking from her heels to the balls of her feet, and the orc braced himself. “That sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

“Oh no you don’t,” he returned resolutely. “This is not going to be another lecture about letting Garron help aboard the Vengeance. It is not happening.”

“I’m just saying that finally letting your nephew see what he’s been wanting for over a year would at least let you get a vacation in,” she attempted, not without a grin on her lips. “Plus, Saeris could use some younger bones, right? Because yours are too brittle, you’re too slow for the job?”

He laughed at her attempts, turning back and wrapping his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer against him. “Nice try, Sunfeather,” he said, kissing her temple. “But I’m not going anywhere yet.”

( Disclaimer: This is a headcanon of mine, no one really needs to accept it, but it’s been years ago that I came up with this for her and I still kinda like it. )

“You could probably go back if you wanted, Umwe,” Mona murmured, feet kicking at the water beneath the dock. “I have it from here, if there’s only a few left.”

“Mmh,” the Tauren breathed out, hunching over his knees. “I want to stay for the one of mine that remains. She should know she isn’t going into the darkness, but to another light.”

They were an odd sight together, a blood elf and a tauren. One was in simple black and red robes, the other in a more complex outfit of leather. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun at the base of her neck, bangs edging to cover her eyes, and his was done in braids, even through his mane.

She sat up some and looked down her shoulder to the woman coughing playing with her little girl. Playing now because she couldn’t before.

Mona’s eyelids went heavy as she watched, jaw shifting. “You think it’s going to happen again?”

“I don’t know,” his higher pitched voice murmured back at her, an eyebrow popping up as he glanced over. “Worried?”

“For them,” she said, nodding. “I know I can’t see it now, the list isn’t made up, it’s too far in the future or it won’t come to be, but I’m worried that something will find a way to worm its way back to them and cause more chaos and destruction. These people can never rest, it seems like.”

Umwe grinned fondly, watching her for a moment. “You have a place in your heart for them. Your husband’s doing?”

She flushed some. “Mine, too,” she admitted, letting out a long sigh and leaning back, toes kicking up some water. “The ones he associates with more closely moreso than the others, but these, the residents, have been like family to him when he’s in port.”

“It’s hard not to,” he agreed. “You and I may have gone through death before, once, twice. But we’ll never find it any easier to watch others find it.”

Mona dragged in a breath and closed her eyes. She let the thought drift out of her head, unwilling to accept it yet, letting the sun shine on her, basking in what was left, before it hid down under the horizon in favor for the moon. It was easier to forget about it. All of the names she’d seen come up on Death’s List, the ones that were on the edge, faded and waiting. The ones that had definitely been there, set in stone, some for years. Some for days.

Grief had been odd for her, too, in some regard. She knew what lay beyond for those who passed, but it was still hard to see them leave the living world. Most never got the privelege she did to walk among the living again. Even this wasn’t permanent.

One day, whenever the higher power felt like it, Mugara wouldn’t have a wife. She hoped it was after he had lived out his life, and she could retire her working status with the nether world to sit about with him.

“We’re still people, at our core. We are souls,” she sighed, crossing one leg over the other.

He chuckled softly and dipped a hoof in the water. “And what will you do now, soul, if your husband decides not to follow the new captain?”

“Oh, I guess I’ll find something to do,” she muttered, opening an eye at the Tauren. “Death takes me where it takes me. I’ll let it take me to wherever he wants to, if I don’t need to be anywhere first. I hope he’ll take some time off. Maybe I’ll stick around if someone needs a shoulder, but I don’t think I’m close enough to them for them to seek me out.”

Umwe shook his head. “You’re denying how you feel about it, aren’t you?”

Her lips soured. “Shut up,” she groaned at him. God damned Tauren insight. It could be beautiful and wise, but at the same time it was a pain in her ass. “He’ll be missed, I thought he was an admirable spirit. Are you happy now?”

He laughed out loud. “That’ll do,” he approved, grinning broadly at her.

The truth was, Mona Sunfeather was more worried about the grief that resulted. A death like his caused hard ripples. Her heart ached at his passing, even moreso that she couldn’t see him passing into their afterlife. Not just yet. Darkness waited for him now. The stubborn captain had to be dragged into it, kicking and screaming.

And all she could think was that it was fitting for how he lived. Never once quiet. Not ever compliant. He was trouble from the first moment to the last.

“Not much to watch these days, is there?” The Forsaken asked of the former general, though her eyes were on the port. 

He glanced at her and then resettled his gaze back to the town. Chaos had ensued for weeks, what was starting as something harmless had erupted into a dangerous epidemic. He hadn’t seen massacre and death at that level in at least a few long years. 

“No,” Mugara sighed at her, shifting to lean his side against the side of the ship, arms crossing over his broad chest. “Now that things are finally settling down, people seem more interested in resting than causing trouble.”

Perry finished her saunter toward him and stood, hand rested atop the side, with Q standing idly beside her. She was quiet for a moment in her thoughtfulness before turning her gaze on the orc. 

“Your wife has been around a lot lately,” she observed. “And I don’t think I’ve met that friend of hers before. Who’s that?”

He looked more surprised that she noticed, eyebrows up. “I didn’t know you took an interest in such things,” he returned curiously. 

She gave a shrug, grinning. “It’s funny to me. A woman who I see so infrequently otherwise seems to take a shining to the port when people are falling dead left and right.”

Mugara tried to roll the stiffness out of his shoulders, but nodded at her. “Worried about me, mostly,” he said, slowly. 

She didn’t buy it. He knew she didn’t. She had some idea what was going on with Mona and the odd Tauren friend of hers, who seemed content to stroll the port and provide comfort to others. While some worried about catching what was spreading like wildfire, those two didn’t show a concern in the world. 

By comparison, their behavior was disconcerting. 

“I don’t mind,” she said, canting her head to the side, looking out to the populace again. “She’s decent company.”

He nodded again, turning to look at her. Innocent, regarding her and ready to get into a conversation that finally didn’t focus on his embarrassment or secrets for once. 

And then he saw it, for the second time that day. A shift of the light, a trick, causing a shadow to appear in the entryway behind her, thought instead of it being across the deck, it was from floor to ceiling. Fleeting. Small. Nothing. It should have registered as nothing to him.

What kept it from classifying as nothing was the whimpergrowl from Q, at Perry’s side, and the loud bark afterward. Had the mutt’s head not been turned toward the entry, he wouldn’t have considered it. 

The Forsaken was on edge as well, hands on her daggers after a tremble took up her spine, head turning to either side. Ready to fight. Ready to defend. Ready for something.

For something that wasn’t there. 

Mugara’s breath had been robbed in the short seconds that proceeded, and he finally found himself relaxing, though he felt dazed from the encounter. If it could be called that. 

Perry hadn’t calmed down as easily. Without Q, she stalked away from the orc, on a mission. “I’m staying on watch with you tonight,” she called out to him. 

He wasn’t going to say no. Combined with the sudden death of Riz’s succulents, the odd presence had only put him on high alert. 

Something was wrong, that much was obvious. But what the hell was it?

It was an honest mistake. For being so large, he couldn’t claim to be nimble and flexible too, let alone make sure his feet didn’t catch up with one another. 

Mugara, the rather ungraceful former General, had tripped over himself and some rope above deck, only to land himself so unceremoniously face first on the floor. 

With someone beneath him. 

His eyes had popped open wide as soon as he realized it was going to happen, the monk-in-a-box™ directly in his line of fire. All he could manage was a shout in warning before finally, his thick, green form had ambushed Riz and pinned him to the deck.

Immediately, he went from green to red, like a transitioning Winter Veil light. The glow was there in abundance when he tried to push himself up, only to find himself nose to nose with the monk.

Swallow. 

“U-uh, e-e-excuse me, mister Riz, I never intended to uhm…” he stammered out, still accidentally pinning him down and embarrassed and sheepish at the same time. “I… wasn’t looking.”

He scrambled his way up as soon as he realized he was still atop the brunette, and, still flushing wildly, offered him his hand. “Definitely did not mean to do that…”

He was more tired than he had been in days. Maybe even weeks. There was no real telling how long it was since the last time he felt the bone-deep exhaustion that dragged him down below deck. 

As soon as Perry had taken over, he was happy. The winds were harsh and the rain was harsher. He felt like knives had been sliced across his cheeks repeatedly, and his lighter armor was soaked through, getting to the green skin beneath and causing even more discomfort. 

Mugara let out a long breath when he finally made it away from the storm, superficially. Off went the armor, the pieces he didn’t need, his boots especially, and he dragged his feet from the base to the closest surface to sit. 

The floor would have been fine. After seeing Bralyna curled up on the couch, he considered the floor again, with a defeated sigh. He was a gentleman, giving her that space should have been the end of it. 

… But he was so tired.

In a moment, he decided, flinging off the last of his armor for a wet set of linens and grabbing the last of the warm, dry towels, that he’d join her. She had enough space on that couch. He may fall off the edge, he realized, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him.

Careful, slow, cautious, he snuck in, and snuggled close, breathing in her warmth and relaxing. But as he drifted into sleep, his arm lay across her waist. His nose lightly buried into her hair at the back of her neck. 

The former General may have woken up on the floor, on his back, but he grinned in spite of himself. Now, at least, he was warm!

( Probably about a year ago if it’s on the ship.)

“No.”

“Come on!” Was the unison outcry from Perry and Volatile, both grinning so wide that it was a surprise they weren’t falling over each other from laughter. 

“Absolutely not,” Mugara grumbled. “I am already married, I’m not interested in cuddling, or kissing, or anything other than pushing all of you away.”

Volatile was sitting up in the hammock. “Ja gotta ansa,” he told him, pointing at the orc. “It be serious.”

The former General’s lips soured and he looked over his shoulder at them. “It’s a game.”

“Which means you play it,” Perry told him, grinning mischievously. “Go. Rizzy, Kurel, Saeris and Vol.”

Mugara heaved a large sigh and pinched his brow. This was not how he wanted his night going, but these two always managed to get him into some kind of mischief that he couldn’t avoid. They were worse than Mona when he met her.

It even sounded ridiculous before he got it out. “Dammit,” he groaned. “I would marry the monk. Saeris would get a kiss, and it’s a tie between Kurel and Vol to get pushed away or cuddled. But I’ve told you my real preference.”

The troll couldn’t do anything but slide into a fit of giggles, falling over in his hammock enough to make it sway violently. 

Perry kept her giggling down but was still highly amused. “Fair is fair,” she told the General. “I’d kiss you, marry Riz, and cuddle Saeris. Kurel gets pushed away only because he’s a walking landmine.”

“He better dan dat, I marry him,” Volatile nodded at her, still recovering from his laughter. “Kiss Riz, push de quartamasta away, an’…” 

Mugara didn’t notice the pause, but he did notice the troll leaning against him. “Cuddle joo.”

He reined himself in, jaw clenched, eyes up at the ceiling, and sighed heavily. “God dammit,” he muttered under his breath, while the two erupted into laughter again.