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enkisstories · 2 years

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Of bows and bonds – Denning in Askr (Part 4)

With Limstella in the game now, I thought to continue my silly AU with Denning and Halloween!Grima, but then I realized that I hadn’t even posted part 4 yet. Looks like I started this when Pent got into the game.

Another little Askran village had just gotten saved from bandits, but that didn’t mean anything to Denning. Neither the people saved, nor the resources preserved and not even a task executed flawlessly, because the Morph hadn’t gotten put to that task by a legitimate authority.

As for Denning’s fighting companions, Grima was disgusted at the teeming, scurrying vermin otherwise known as “farmers”, almost as disgusted as she was by her own toddling after Nergal’s “mailman”. Felix and Sylvain were satisfied with their good deed, but Felix didn’t want to get praised as a knight, while Sylvain craved praise in general, just not for his crest-granted combat prowess. So basically the whole team was grumpy now and these four weren’t even the most messed up team in The Summoner’s army. In fact, the man considered this particular squad as something akin to a wholesome double date.

Lord Pent was just now addressing the victorious heroes. Denning listened with half an ear. Something about trust through bonds… Pent now faced the Morph directly. Denning had baited out the bandit mages with his budget Guard Bow Plus. The erstwhile enemy had proven a dependable ally in battle.

“Regardless our origins…” Pent started, only to get interrupted before Pent had fully decided on the exact words he wanted to direct at the Morph.

“Regardless?” Denning parroted the mage-general,. “So you don’t even care anymore that we are the Summoner’s battle slaves? Neither of us has a stake in this… or business with the other.”

The Morph currently had no orders to either confront or befriend Lord Pent, not even to pass him a note, and neither was the mage general an obstacle to any order Denning might have received. Therefore by all means that man shouldn’t even register to the Morph. Yet here Pent stood, all chummy-chatty, as if them both having gotten magically enslaved by The Summoner equaled receiving orders by a lawful authority. Denning didn’t feel like a “hero”, as the Summoner’s collection was called in Askr. If anything, he was property stolen from Lord Nergal.

“I reckon we’re done here, General, so if you’d excuse me now? I need to consult the most powerful commander in Askr, my real master.”

With these words the archer turned around and walked towards a cart track that led out of the forest. He’d very nearly had bumped into the Fell Dragon.

“I’m right here!” Grima exclaimed, apparently very pleased with herself just for existing. But when one was the result of a major scientific breakthrough in addition to having the blood of the Earth- and the Divine dragons, one probably had all the reason to. Denning certainly enjoyed seeing Grima being full of herself like this. It served as a small reminder that in tiny aspects the world was still as it should be.

With a smile Denning fell into stride with Grima.

“Would you come see Sonia with me?” he asked.

There was a noticeable pause, as if Grima had gotten caught by surprise, then she growled:

“Is the Fell Dragon a joke to you?! It used to be “Oh, I hardly dare approach Your Awesomeness, but you’d make such sweet couple with our little Fire Drake!” And now I’m – what exactly? Your moral support when go see your sergeant?!”

There was only truth in the statement, therefore the Morph nodded.

“Of all the elite Morphs, those of us with individual names, I am the youngest, and my seniors can be quite intimidating. And Sonia ranks even higher, being a human. I’d function a lot better if I had you by my side when I have to face her.”

Grima merely sighed. There was no use beating a dead horse, so she tagged along to see how this would play out.

As the duo approached the newly arrived blue tome wielder, the Morph Sonia, Grima thought she knew why her companion was so eager to de-brief with her: “Oh, I see! Two big and barely covered arguments for the sergeant. Mammals are so predictable…”

“And unlike someone I could name, she doesn’t eat mice”, Denning replied. “Bonus!”

However, Sonia refused to discuss anything with the failure that had dared to approach her. From Grima’s point of view, “imperfect” seemed to be the default this woman categorized people other than herself, it was nothing specifically relating to Denning, and Grima herself had called him worse things on occasion. But the young fool of a Morph let himself get shoved out of the way and then remained standing pressed against the corridor’s wall, wearing a baffled expression.

Eventually Denning spoke up: “I did as told… how’s that failing? Sure, the Ositians captured me, but the message got delivered. Wouldn’t even have mattered even if they’d killed me, because… the message… was… delivered! Sonia can ask Eliwood and he’ll confirm! Several Eliwoods, in fact.”

Grima’s eyes were still on Sonia, who hadn’t walked far after the initial rush to get out of the company of a lowly messenger and a Divine Earth Dragon wearing fluffy werewolf ears, mittens and a cute little tail.

“How exactly are you two related again?” she asked right into Denning’s tirade.

“We aren’t. I’m a Morph, she’s human.”

“You have the same pale skin, dark hair and yellow eyes.”

“That’s how all Morphs look”, Denning explained. “We were probably created in Sonia’s image.”

“I wonder in how many ways you can be in denial, but then again, Sonia is, too, so it’s probably a Morph thing.”

The Fell Dragon shrugged, what made her costume’s ears wiggle in an adorable way.

“Anyway, I think I understand Robin better now”, Grima mused aloud. “The thing she was always babbling about, before I consumed her. How the bonds one forges with comrades make all the individual pieces stronger…”

“Nonononono!” a female voice echoed through the hallway. “That’s merging with another copy of yourself! Forging Bonds is for tickets, that in turn call new heroes to Askr. But don’t fret if it sounds a bit overwhelming! You’ll have that memorized in no time!”

With these words Princess Sharena stepped between the Fell Dragon, the Morph and Sonia. She looked from one to the other, as if she was considering all of them a friendship group, and swang her lance around as playfully as her long ponytail. As a warrior, Sharena’s skill was so far above that of even elite soldiers and knights of her world, as it was below that of The Summoner’s battle slaves. But instead of letting that take her down in the presence of all the heroes, Sharena had retained a bubbly cheerfulness that not even the presence of less silly dressed iterations of the Fell Dragon could quench.

“See, Sonia?” the Princess addressed the newcomer to Askr. “Even those who are here for some time already still mix up the terms, so don’t feel bad if you do not get them memorized immediately.”

“Come again?!” Sonia flared up. “I’d never…”

“We’re all doing our best here, you’ll fit right in!” Sharena chirped.

Momentarily taken aback, Sonia was unable to defend against the Princess locking arms with her. Then Sharena walked, no, skipped, down the hallway with her “new friend”.

“Tickets, orbs and grails all summon more heroes that we can then be friends with”, Sharena chatted away. “Isn’t that exciting?”

Denning watched the Princess march Sonia off, oddly satisfied at the woman’s panicked expression at realizing that she was at the mercy of a blonde Nino now. Now and then the mage turned her head around, as if pleading for help, but with no explicit order directed his way, Denning just remained idle.

“Gaining enjoyment from the sight of your Commander in distress, Denning? I didn’t know you could be that petty”, Grima commented. “I like it!”

She drew Denning closer, first to look him into the eyes, but then it seemed more important that their lips lined up.

“I like YOU…”

Denning moved his head to the side a little.

“Promise me”, he panted, “promise me that all the worlds that heroes were summoned from will burn! Or even better, DINE on them! Gobble up Bantu… Eldigan… Jorge… Lucius… Raven… Seth… Haar… Naesala… Reyson… Virion… Masked Marth… Mustafa… Corrin… other Corrin… Kronya… all The Summoner’s Plus Tens!”

“The Fell Dragon doesn’t do Good Deeds!” Grima growled, but Denning drew her closer, holding fast in a mix of not letting go of prey and clinging to a lifeline. Their lips met, drowning out Denning’s recitation of people whose deaths might hurt his nemesis, The Summoner.

“Who’d thought it would take that much to make you STOP talking”, the Fell Dragon said with a grin.

Denning remained silent. Until very recently his understanding of ownership had encompassed himself being a creation of Lord Nergal and various equipment given to him for the duration of a mission. He’d also had had that vague concept of his master wanting to open the Dragon Gate, and that meeting Lady Grima, a powerful dragon, might please Lord Nergal. But now a part of him that wasn’t the Quintessence dreaded the thought of parting with the Fell Dragon, even for Nergal’s… for LORD Nergal’s benefit.

A single thought cruised through the Morph’s mind, a mutation of the concept of possession that now put the formerly owned as the owner:

MINE.

But if Grima was his, and he was still Nergal’s, then everything was still well, right?

“Ah, there’s your smile again”, Grima commented. “For a moment I got real worried.”

“No need to. All is well. Want me to catch a mouse for you now?”

“You, my friend, know how to talk to a woman! Let’s go!”

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