#the way I see it Arvid is a healer- to him this is just like healing
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Actually I'm like really weirdly obsessed now with that moment when Astarion is really apologetic about trying to bite the PC, and possibly even more so with how awkward and incredulous he is when you say "okay? that's fine, but you could literally have just asked tho?"
Boy was not prepared to be accepted unconditionally, and he definitely wasn't prepared for someone to care more about his wellbeing than their own momentary discomfort
#baldur's gate 3#squirrel plays bg3#the way I see it Arvid is a healer- to him this is just like healing#he's giving something small of himself (like a spell slot or a sip of blood)#to dramatically improve the health of one of his comrades#sure it's more intimate and it ended up making him feel a bit weird but#the initial logic was that he's just kinda bummed his friend didn't trust him enough to ask#he was kinda like that about Wyll too#like he's not mad or anything just disappointed#camp dad vibes#now with added homoerotic undertones#in TWO SEPARATE WAYS
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By Dawn and Blood
A/N: I know, I know, I’ve got like 5 stories I haven’t finished, but this one has been stuck with me since… I don’t even know. I need to write it, post it and get it out of my system, so sorry! I’ll get back to the other stories slowly but surely, but for now… I need to write my damn Vikings-story!
If you want to be added to the taglist, shoot me an ask!
As always, remember feedback feeds the writer!
Story: When Dean and Sam angers a very old witch, they get transported to a foreign land in a foreign time; now they need to find their way back to their own time, whilst Dean slowly but surely gets closer and closer to the Earls daughter, a shieldmaiden.
MASTERLIST
BY DAWN AND BLOOD MASTERLIST
Buy me a coffee – help me pay for my wedding!
Pairings: Viking!Reader x Dean
Warnings: language, mentions of blood, mentions of swordfighting, mentions of battle
Chapter 1: the strangers
Sweat dripped into your eyes as you swirled around, shield stretched out before you – your braids stung, as they hit the back of your neck and your opponent, Arvid, grinned widely. He was sweating too, and blood trickled from the cut on his cheek.
“You’ve improved, Y/N Egildaugter.” You snarled but couldn’t help the smile from blooming. You let your shield down and bowed down to Arvid.
“I’ve been trained well, Arvid Bardsson.” He grinned and threw his sword to the ground, quickly grabbing you and rubbing your hair harshly.
“Your father will be proud to hear of his daughter, I promise you.” You grinned and walked arm in arm with Arvid through Holdgate – your home and your fathers Earldom. People greeted the two of you as you strolled through the square, the scent of burning wood and salted fish hanging in the air. As you reached the main hall, Arvid let your arm go and grabbed you by the shoulders, staring into your eyes.
“We’ll make a shieldmaiden of you yet, Y/N.” you grinned and slapped him lightly on the cheek.
“Go tend to your wounds, Arvid. I’ll see you at the feast tonight.” He nodded and let you go, walking towards Helga’s hut – the old woman, who had become the town healer. You turned and went inside the main hall – the scent of wood, furs and mead hung in the air like a blanket, and your father sat on his chair, in a fevered discussion with his right-hand man, Frode. They looked aggravated and your father constantly spilled the mead from his horn. They both stopped dead in their discussion, when they saw you.
“Please, don’t stop on my account. I rather enjoy looking at my father getting a talking to.” Frode grinned widely.
“You are still my favorite, dear Y/N.” your father rolled his eyes, but a smile played on his lips, ghosting over his harsh features.
“My daughter, this has no bearing to you. Go wash off.” You raised your eyebrows.
“It concerns me, if it concerns you, Father.” Frode looked from your father to you and laughed.
“She truly is your daughter, Egil. I can see her hands itching for a fight. Let her know.” You father sighed and looked at you with wide eyes.
“We have trespassers. They won’t tell where they came from or who sent them. It is like a trick from the Gods, or the Earl of Dalby has sent them to spy on us.” You nodded solemnly.
“What do they call themselves?” You asked. You father grinned.
“Curious, are you my daughter? Ask them yourself. They refuse to tell any more.” You frowned.
“Have you had them held?” He nodded. Frode laughed again.
“You must learn the duties, daughter.” You sighed and nodded.
“Alright. I’ll try, father.” You excused yourself and grabbed a shield on your way out, and slid a battleaxe into your belt before leaving the hall again, walking quickly towards the prison-hold.
You were curious. You wanted to see the world, the people, and you wanted to raid and fight; if the prisoners were from a foreign land, like your father so often talked about, they might give you your chance to go.
The wooden door was ajar, and the room inside was dark – you lit a torch on the side of the door and went to your knees. As your eyes adjusted, you couldn’t help but gasp – the men were enormous, like the tales of the frostgiants, and their garments looked foreign and weird. The slightly shorter one was glaring at you, but it looked like his eyes roamed you – he looked curious more than angry. The tallest one, whose hair hung low in his eyes, snorted and turned away.
“Hvem ar I?” you asked, your voice swallowed by the walls surrounding them. The shorter one grunted.
“Listen lady, we don’t talk whatever you are.” You frowned.
“You speak the language?” you asked. Both of their eyes snapped to you.
“You understand us?” You nodded. He was like a warrior. Broad and dark, and looked like he would be carrying a sword, had he not been bound in the hold.
“I ask again. Who are you? Did Earl Dag of Dalby send you?” They both looked confused.
“Uhm… I’m Sam, this is Dean.” He pointed to himself and then the other man, whose eyes were still roaming you – he kept looking at your armor and corset, but his eyes mostly stood fast at your axe.
“I know it’s a good axe. I got it for my nameday.” You said with a slight smile. His head whipped up and he blushed slightly. He reminded you of the young boys who had just started growing beards.
“we’re brothers. Are you… Where are we?” the taller one, Sam, asked again. You shifted your weight, so you could cross your legs and sit comfortably. They seemed somewhat sane, and you didn’t feel threatened – more curious than anything.
“I’m the Earls daughter. You are in our home, Holdgate.” The shorter one nodded. He was a pretty man – he reminded you of Bjorn, the fiercest warrior in your homestead. His eyes were curious, and he looked ready to fight, even though his hands were tied behind his back. He looked strong.
“Holdgate?” He asked. His voice sounded like honeymead, like the one your mother made when you were sick. You nodded.
“Oh, fuck.” He looked at his brother, who looked equally worried.
“The damn witch sent us to the goddamn Vikings.”
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Chapter 2
TAGLIST:
@trustnobodyshootfirst
@hobby27
@akshi8278
@wingedcatninja
@supernatural-idjit-95
@polina-93
@dean-winchesters-bacon
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FOREVERLIST:
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#dean winchester#dean#sam and dean#dean x#dean x you#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x#dean winchester x you#viking#viking!reader#SPN#spn fic#spn cast#spn fanfic#spn au#fanfiction#fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural family#dean x y/n#dean x y#x y7n#x you#x y/n#reader insert#x reader
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Unofferable
TITLE: Unofferable
CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3, Healing
AUTHOR: unofferable-fic
ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Frigga bringing you to Asgard as a child after finding you abandoned and injured on Midgard. Uncertain as to what happened to you, Odin allows the healers save your life, and the Allmother makes it her duty to ensure your safety.
RATING: M
NOTES/WARNINGS: Angst, fluff. Playlist: “Falling” (Loki’s Theme) — Angus MacRae, “Team” — Lorde
The rousing of the Midgardian child seemed to be news that was rejoiced in the palace, even by Thor and Odin. While in the first week after she woke up she shied away from anyone who wasn’t Frigga or the healers, she no longer burst into tears at the sight of others. She was very wary of Loki still, which he found almost insulting. What made it worse was that although she had been terrified of Thor at first — mostly due to his thundering voice and huge frame — she had eventually relaxed a tad around him after more time had passed.
But not Loki. She just stared and stared. Nothing more.
Her first meeting with Thor had very nearly been a disaster as he became too excited at the sight of her up and about. Not realising that he was so damn loud and that he towered over her almost caused her to leap into Frigga’s arms. It was a number of days before she didn’t mind him being in her room.
Nearly two weeks passed, but still she would not speak. It didn’t matter who spoke to her or what they said. Questions were answered with a nod or shake of the head, something that frustrated Loki to no end. It seemed that his plans to ask about Midgard had been dashed entirely. He tried to avoid the healers wing at all costs and only went there when Frigga requested his presence. It was usually just to keep her company and an attempt on his mother’s part to help get the girl used to him. While she was still healing, she was able to move about the room after another few days and eat small portions of food and drink.
But there was still one question that received no answer from the girl. You would only get a blank stare if you asked.
“What is your name?”
An answer was never given, no matter who asked or what the circumstances were. It seemed to be information that the girl did not want to share. It was because of this that Loki’s unintentional nickname took official effect. Having nothing else to call her, she was referred to as ‘little one’, a fitting name in his opinion. She was painfully shy and anxious in company and jumped at loud noises. She also kept wearing the dark blue jumper that she had originally arrived in. Eventually, two weeks from the day she had woken up, people stopped asking for her name.
As time progressed, Frigga began to walk her around the the palace, trying to get her used to the strange new world this girl found herself in. She was sometimes accompanied by Frigga’s handmaidens, who were just as gentle with the girl as the Queen was. When they walked through the great halls, the child kept a firm grip on the hand that Frigga offered her. She seemed to take to women faster than to men. She cowered at the sight of the Einherjar and the other workers and servants in the palace, but eventually warmed up to Thor and Odin and would accept their company on said walks. That being said, the girl was hesitant to leave the palace itself and Frigga had yet to coax her out into the gardens.
Loki normally avoided the pair when they went on their quiet strolls, mostly because he did not know how to be around the girl. In the back of his head, he was still convinced that she hated the sight of him. His brother wouldn’t let him live it down.
“You avoid her as though she is rampant with disease, Loki!” Thor would say to him.
To these comments, Loki usually just responded with a sigh.
* * *
It was on a clear and calm morning a month after the girl awoke that Loki had been on his way to the library. He intended to find some books specifically on Midgard and its geography, but was confronted by Thor, who stood in the halls with the little girl at his side. He had a huge paw encasing her delicate hand.
“Brother!” he greeted them once he noticed his younger sibling’s arrival. He gently nudged his companion and pointed. “Look, little one. It appears that Loki has chosen to join us.”
The girl looked up at Loki, who towered over her. She brought her free hand that remained covered by the long sleeves of her jumper up to her mouth and stared at him. After a moment, she lowered her gaze to the floor.
Loki’s brow piqued at his brother’s word. “Greetings, Thor. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I have no such intention of joining you both where ever you are off to.”
“No need to be so harsh. Where were you going?”
“To the library.”
At these words, the child perked up slightly and looked up at Loki again. Both brothers noticed the change in her demeanour and Loki was somewhat surprised by her reaction.
“Has the mention of our library grabbed your attention, little one?” Thor asked happily, but the disbelief was evident in his tone.
She nodded and looked between them, silently begging.
“Would you like to see it?”
Another more enthusiastic nod.
Thor grinned at his brother. “It would seem that she shares some of your passions, however dull they are.”
“I had not taken her for a reader,” Loki replied, studying the girl carefully. “I did not even know she had the ability to read.”
“Perhaps that is because you refuse to spend any time with her.”
The Trickster rolled his eyes. “There is no point. As soon as she is well, father will demand that she is returned to Midgard.”
“You have already said that father will not go through with such a demand. I hope we get to keep her.” Thor smiled at the girl at his side with a look resembling a proud owner admiring their pure-bred dog.
“She is not your pet!” Loki snapped suddenly feeling distressed at the thought.
“I thought you did not care for her?”
“I don’t, but mother promised that she would keep her safe and well treated.”
Thor considered his words, clearly amused by his sudden protective nature. “So be it.” He turned back to the child. “Well, I had not planned on a detour as I am supposed to meet with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three in the dining hall, but it seems that she wishes to visit your favourite place in the palace.”
The three of them walked towards their destination, their pace slow to accommodate the Midgardian. Once inside, she seemed amazed by the sight before her. Loki watched as she gazed up at the massive bookshelves, clearly torn between running to grab whatever pieces of literature she could and staying by Thor’s side out of apprehension. Rays of sunlight swept in through the tall windows as they made their way around. Loki noticed that no one else was present.
“This is where you spend all your time?” Thor enquired, looking around him in surprise.
“Yes. It is one of the few peaceful places in this palace.” Loki approached a shelf and ran his fingers along the spine of a huge leather-bound book he had been reading the night before.
“But it is so… dusty.”
His eyes rolled against his own accord. “By the Norns! When was the last time you have even been in here, Thor?”
The God of Thunder barked. “I think it was when we were children andour Political History tutor was trying to explain the importance of such knowledge on all the Nine Realms.”
“Arvid never did manage to hold your attention,” Loki mumbled under his breath as he tried to remember where most of the Midgardian texts were kept.
“Don’t be afraid, little one,” he heard Thor say over behind him. “Go and look around if you wish. It is only us in here.”
Throwing a quick glance back, he saw the girl gently release Thor’s hand after a hesitant expression and slowly moved away from his side. She gazed up at the bookshelves, marvelling at the sight before her. Loki eventually turned away and headed off in the direction of the Midgardian books. He took his time, taking in the passaged around him and pausing every now an then when a book title or design grabbed his attention. He left his brother and the girl to their own devices, concerning himself only with the task ahead of him.
He found the Midgardian texts easily enough. They were located at the end of an aisle in the corner of the library, one that was usually empty and untouched by others in the palace. Loki rarely encountered others when he brushed up on his Midgardian history. Since he was so small that he had to climb up shelves to reach the highest books, a lot of his time had been spent here. It was usually quiet and only the people who came here were eager to learn and gain knowledge of the Nine Realms. Here, he could be himself and read alone, instead of being constantly interrupted for not sparring in the training yards. He stood still in the aisle for a moment, canning the shelves specifically for books on the geography of earth. Pulling a particularly thick book from its spot on the shelf, he turned it over and gently wiped off the dust that covered it with his hand. He flicked through the pages quickly before approving of it. When he went to reach for another, he sensed the presence of another in the aisle with him. He turned and his green eyes met blue once more.
She stood at the other end of the aisle, obviously hesitant to approach with him staring back at her. He gazed at her for a moment, making sure to keep his expression neutral but not unwelcoming, before bringing his attention back to the books on the shelves. A full minute seemed to pass before he heard the gentle pitter-patter of her feet on the stone ground. She was getting closer ever so slowly. Loki could feel her eyes still on him. She reminded him of a cat; ever vigilant, watchful. She placed her feet carefully on the ground, every step making sure to keep the distance between them. Her body was tense, always worried about making a mistake or getting too close. The intention behind keeping his eyes on the books before him was to reduce any unnecessary nervousness she felt around him, not that he cared very much. He was so used to people being skittish around him when he was in a poor or mischievous mood. He was used to people treating him differently.
A tiny gasp sounded from behind him. It drew his attention away from a text on ‘the great Renaissance artists’ and back to the girl. She stood a bookshelf away, her neck craned up and her little mouth agape. Loki assumed that had spotted a title or interest. Her next movement confirmed his thoughts, for she hesitantly reached an arm up towards her target. The limb stretched but couldn’t reach. Even when she tried on the tips of her toes, the book still alluded her. She stared up at it and kept trying, despite the fact that she would obviously never be able to claim it.
Mortals are so very pathetic at times, Loki thought as he watched her fail at every attempt and while he would usually never pay heed to another in this library, he couldn’t stand to see the child struggle when the thought of getting a certain book consumed her so.
With a sigh, Loki put his books down on a nearby table and walked over to where she stood. His approach caused her to retreat a couple of feet very quickly, like she had been caught breaking a rule.
He looked blankly between the girl and the shelf he presumed her target resided. “Which one were you trying to reach?”
She stared back at him, her lips slightly parted, blue eyes glassy, but said nothing.
His tone was somewhat sarcastic. “Now would be a delightful time to start speaking, little one. I will get the book for you — it’s pathetic just watching you trying to reach it yourself.”
She didn’t answer him, but instead pointed up at the shelf that he was eye-level with. He looked between the books and her before pointing to one.
A shake of the head.
He moved one to the left.
Another shake.
To the left again.
She shook her head.
Another move to the left.
A nod. A very sure and quick nod.
Loki pulled the book from its hiding place. It was small, leather bound and brown, covered in even more dust than the ones he had been looking at. On the back of it imprinted into the leather was a small, red dragon. The book seemed dwarfed in his large hand and the gold-tinted title on the front cover caught his eye.
“The Hobbit,” he read aloud, looking it over. He had neither heard of it or read it before, but it seemed that the girl had. Loki would admit that he had ventured to the Midgardian fiction section of these shelves before him in the past, but had not known of this little book’s existence.
He looked up to find her watching him carefully, holding on to the sleeves of her jumper. She was waiting patiently, it seemed. Knowing that a question about the book wouldn’t receive an answer, he simply approached her cautiously and held it out to her. She regarded him carefully, reaching out a tentative little hand to grasp the book. Once he released it, she held it tightly against her chest. She looked down at it in awe, all of her attention now focused on the book.
This was how I found a little piece of home in such a faraway place. And he had helped me, whether he knew it or not.
“Why do you cower?” Loki asked suddenly, before he could stop himself. His outburst brought her gaze back to him, but he wasn’t answered. “You act as though I would strike you for desiring the book. Why do you cower from me? Tell me.”
The girl stared up at his towering form, resembling a tiny, delicate bird surrounded by the huge bookshelves. Her eyes were momentarily glassy and Loki feared that his exclamation would cause a fresh batch of tears from her. Fortunately, she never got the chance.
“Little one!” Thor’s voice boomed through the tranquility of the library. “Come! We have stayed long enough in this dull place. I must meet with the Warriors Three and Lady Sif.”
The loudness of his voice almost caused the Midgardian to jump out of her skin, but Loki noticed that her grip on the text remained so tight that he knuckles went white. With her head down, the girl turned and quietly made her way back to his brother, much to his annoyance. Loki grabbed his books once more and followed, keeping a distance between himself and the child. Thor stood by the doors, poking at a small book on a nearby desk with a look of very clear distaste. He seemed relieved when he looked up and saw their approach.
“She… she is taking a book?” he asked Loki, noticing said text in her scrawny arms.
“It would seem so,” the raven-haired prince replied and made his way to the door.
“She chose it herself?”
“Yes,” Loki snapped. He wasn’t eager in any way to discuss his exchange with the girl.
As the three of them walked out the doors and down the corridors of the palace, Loki could hear Thor speaking to the Midgardian behind him. “Do not waste all of your time with books, little one. Loki was foolish enough to do so before our mother began to train him in knife-combat. When you are bigger, I will start to train you myself. You will be able to say that the finest warrior in all the Nine Realms taught you to fight!”
Leave it to Thor to spoil something that need not be fixed, Loki thought. She needs to be a bit more social, yes, but if she wishes to read then allow her to read, you infuriating imbecile!
For a while, Loki couldn’t help but listen to Thor ramble on and on about battles he had been in and fights that he had won. The younger prince made sure that he was ahead of them the entire time they walked, but his frustrations were very well near boiling point. He was so close to turning and speaking his mind to Thor when distant voices caught his attention. Ahead of them, The Warriors Three and Sif rounded a corner and appeared in view.
Loki cursed under his breath and halted in his steps, causing his brother to almost barrel into his back.
“Thor!” Volstagg called upon seeing them. He noticed Loki eventually and greeted him briefly before turning his attention back to the God of Thunder. “We’ve been looking for you. Have you forgotten your promise to meet with us?”
“Apologies, my friends,” Thor chuckled, stepping ahead of Loki. “I was distracted but on my way to meet you all.”
“Is that what kept you?” Fandral asked, pointing to the girl that was behind the brothers, her hand still held in Thor’s.
Thor looked down at her fondly, oblivious to her discomfort. “Ah, yes. The little one wanted to explore the library so I chose to humour her.”
“You were in the library?” Sif asked, her eyebrow piqued with curiosity.
“It seems like the little one is taking after the Trickster,” Fandral laughed heartily.
“Now there shall be two mischief-makers strutting about Asgard,” Hogun sighed. “How delightful.”
“You speak of me as though I am not present,” Loki said through gritted teeth, biting back a snarl.
He felt Thor place a hand on his shoulder. “Brother, they only jest. Come, we should make our way to the dining hall.”
Thor’s suggestion was immediately met with silence from both his friends and his brother. Volstagg was the first to speak.
“You do not intend to bring the child with you, do you?” the burly man asked.
“And why would I not?”
“Thor, you cannot bring the girl with us,” Sif said, trying to keep her tone even. “Have you forgotten that after our meal we will be making our way to the forests outside of Asgard? It is not safe to bring her there, especially after the ordeal she has been through.”
“Sif is right,” Fandral agreed, looking between the child and Thor. “Not only would she be in danger out there, but she would be a hindrance!”
“I did not intend to babysit a Midgardian this afternoon,” Hogun grumbled.
Volstagg stroked his ginger beard thoughtfully. “Nor I. It’s not safe. Keeping her here in the safety of the palace would be best.”
“I do not fear for her safety,” Thor scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “She will be in the company of the finest warriors in all the Nine Realms! She will learn from the best.”
Fandral let out a chuckle. “Judging by how tightly she is holding that book in her arms, it would seem that she shares more of the Trickster’s interests than ours. Perhaps she would benefit from spending time in his company instead.”
Loki was seething. He had enough. They constantly spoke of him a though he wasn’t there. He was rarely ever addressed directly and if he was, it was usually an insult or a jest. His fists were clenched so tight around his books that his knuckles were white. “You intend to leave the girl behind with me while you all go gallivanting off into the forests like a bunch of imbeciles? I am not a babysitter.”
From beside him, Thor spoke up again. “Well, they do make a fair point, Loki. It is about time you bonded with her. Midgardians are also forbidden from wandering around Asgard while unattended.”
The God of Mischief whipped around to face his sibling. “You do not wish for us to bond! All you want to do is go off and pretend to be a powerful warrior with them! You feign interest in her safety when you all want for her to be away from you.”
Loki could tell that his words had impacted his brother a little more than a common squabble, but he was beyond caring. He was fed up with being left behind and now he was being left with a child that wouldn’t even speak.
Thor’s gaze was levelled on him, his eyes calculating carefully. When he spoke, his tone was oddly even. “Perhaps you should take her back to your precious books. Tell mother that we will return tomorrow.” Before he continued, he released the girl’s hand and ruffled her hair with his huge hand. She shrunk away slightly, but managed to look up at him for a few seconds. “Do not be intimidated by Loki, little one. His bark is far worse than his bite.”
Without another word, Thor walked passed them both and his companions followed quickly after him. No goodbyes were offered from them. Instead, they began to laugh and talk loudly amongst themselves before they rounded the corner and left Loki and the girl with only each others company. He stared at the spot where they had disappeared and the Midgardian stayed silent; although he expected nothing less. Turning on his heel and staring down at her, he let out a sigh and addressed her.
“Perhaps spending less time with them will be beneficial,” he explained, agitated. “You are less likely to be so moronic when they are not around to influence you.”
The girl didn’t respond, but managed to gaze back at him as he spoke. Shoving the books under his arm, Loki strode in the opposite direction Thor had gone, leaving the girl on her own. He did not care what she did, he just wanted to be away from people and be in his own company. That was all he wished for that day, but it seemed like the Norns were against him.
Whenever Loki wanted to be on his own and read, he made his way to Frigga’s gardens. More specifically, he made his way to a section where no one but he ever seemed to tread. It was a small, secluded part on the outskirts of the gardens, surrounded by tall hedging and a large cork tree. Under its branches was where he usually sat, back perched against its trunk and a book in his hands. As a child, he spent a lot of his time here when he had been left alone and had a fight with his brother, or when Odin scolded him. Under the ever-changing leaves of this tree and clematis that grew up its sturdy trunk, he read stories of adventures he could escape in and studied seiðr and literature so that he could improve the talents he had. Under the leaves of this tree, he grew up alone. Under the branches of this tree, he educated himself. And he loved it.
He settled himself on the grass against the tree trunk, flipping open the book specifically on Midgardian geography and delving into its pages. Eying a map that showed the layout of the planet to its entirety, he took note of the names of both countries and continents (some of which he already knew), the Norse ruins spelling it out plainly for him beside their French, Spanish, and English (the languages used by large populations of Midgard) names. His eyes swept from left to right, a single finger tracking his movements.
Canada, the United States of America, Mexico, Columbia, Peru, Brazil, Morocco, Mali, Algeria, Portugal, Spain, France, Ireland, the United Kingdom, Germany…
He had been sitting there for less than half an hour when he heard approaching footsteps, however gentle they were. His green eyes looked up expectantly at the track that led to his spot. He smirked, noticing the rustle in the hedges.
“It is not wise to try to sneak up of the God of Mischief, little one,” he called out, looking back down at his text. Once he had wet his finger on his tongue and turned a page, he spoke again. “Emerging from your hiding place would probably be the best decision, you know.”
… Pakistan, India, China, Thailand, North Korea, South Korea, Japan…
He received no verbal reply; he had not expected one considering he knew who his pursuer was. He resumed examining his maps as she slowly appeared from behind the hedge, her Midgardian book still in her arms. She stopped a fair distance away from him, but he didn’t look up. He had a funny feeling that she was following him to his hiding place. He had hoped that she would tire of him and go her own way, but that seemed to be wishful thinking. Both of them held their ground and neither spoke. The only things that sounded in the garden was the rustle of the leaves in the light breeze and the flick of the pages of Loki’s book.
“You are terrible company,” he commented dryly, glancing up as he finished reading the map.
She remained standing beside the hedge, watching him cautiously. If she was watching for a single, a sign that he approved of her being here, then he didn’t know what to say to her. She still stood some distance away and he remained in his seat.
“Do you intend to just stand there all day?” Loki asked, green eyes boring into her. “And still, you do not respond to my questions. I do not know why I am surprised. You have barely made a peep in the weeks you have spent here on Asgard. Perhaps a trickster god such as myself can rouse a peep from you.”
Loki didn’t need an explanation as to why he chose to do what happened next. His excuse was that he was the God of Mischief and Lies; he got enjoyment from playing pranks on others and seeing their reactions when he did so. With a small wave of his hand, two branches that rested on the ground a few feet from him roused to life. He felt the seiðr course through him and watched as the branches wriggled and morphed into two black snakes, no bigger than his forearm. They slithered towards the girl, their bodies moving like a meandering river through the grass. He smirked as she looked down and noticed their approach, jumping and clutching her book to her chest. What surprised Loki was that she didn’t cower in fear, but merely jumped from surprise. Once she had gathered herself, the girl gazed at the magical snakes in wonder as they made their way passed her and into the hedges for shelter. She craned her head down at the spot where they disappeared and Loki’s smile fell.
“Well, that was a disappointment.”
His voice caught the girl’s attention and she looked at him with wide, shell-shocked eyes.
Finally finished with playing games, he let out a sigh and continued on. “Sit down and read your book if you so insist. Just… stay quiet and don’t disturb me anymore. I come here for some peace, not to look after a mortal child.”
He kept his head down, as if it was focused on the pages in his book, but his gaze came up to watch her and she slowly sat herself on the grass beside the hedge, her legs crossed. Her body was still tense — anyone could see it, but she seemed to be trying to relax. She stared at him for a moment before she set the book in her lap and opened it up. With his eyes still on her, he noticed that the Midgardian was trying to find a specific page before she began to read. She was halfway through the book before she found her desired point and finally started to read.
And so they sat together in silence, flicking through their books under the leaves of the cork tree until the sun gradually set beyond the horizon and the stars came out of hiding. Under the leaves of this tree, the tension between them gradually faded and drifted away with the evening’s breeze.
#Loki#Angst#Others#Submitted fic#submission#chapter 3#unofferable#unofferable-fic#frigga#child#abandoned#asgard#injured#midgard#odin#healers#duties#allmother#thor#intrgiued#distant#comfort
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UNOFFERABLE: 3 - HEALING
Summary: The unexpected arrival of an injured Midgardian child clinging to life causes a ruckus on Asgard. The princes, Thor and Loki, are somewhat intrigued by this unusual guest, unsure as to how and why she ended up in such a state. What they did not expect, however, was the turn of events her appearance would inevitably cause.
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Set Pre-Thor 1
Pairing: Loki x child OFC (platonic)
Inspired by this imagine
Warnings: Angst, fluff.
Word Count: 4,773
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Playlist: “Falling” (Loki’s Theme) — Angus MacRae, “Team” — Lorde
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A/N: Also available on AO3 and FanFiction.net
The rousing of the Midgardian child seemed to be news that was rejoiced in the palace, even by Thor and Odin. While in the first week after she woke up she shied away from anyone who wasn’t Frigga or the healers, she no longer burst into tears at the sight of others. She was very wary of Loki still, which he found almost insulting. What made it worse was that although she had been terrified of Thor at first — mostly due to his thundering voice and huge frame — she had eventually relaxed a tad around him after more time had passed.
But not Loki. She just stared and stared. Nothing more.
Her first meeting with Thor had very nearly been a disaster as he became too excited at the sight of her up and about. Not realising that he was so damn loud and that he towered over her almost caused her to leap into Frigga’s arms. It was a number of days before she didn’t mind him being in her room.
Nearly two weeks passed, but still she would not speak. It didn’t matter who spoke to her or what they said. Questions were answered with a nod or shake of the head, something that frustrated Loki to no end. It seemed that his plans to ask about Midgard had been dashed entirely. He tried to avoid the healers wing at all costs and only went there when Frigga requested his presence. It was usually just to keep her company and an attempt on his mother’s part to help get the girl used to him. While she was still healing, she was able to move about the room after another few days and eat small portions of food and drink.
But there was still one question that received no answer from the girl. You would only get a blank stare if you asked.
“What is your name?”
An answer was never given, no matter who asked or what the circumstances were. It seemed to be information that the girl did not want to share. It was because of this that Loki’s unintentional nickname took official effect. Having nothing else to call her, she was referred to as ‘little one’, a fitting name in his opinion. She was painfully shy and anxious in company and jumped at loud noises. She also kept wearing the dark blue jumper that she had originally arrived in. Eventually, two weeks from the day she had woken up, people stopped asking for her name.
As time progressed, Frigga began to walk her around the the palace, trying to get her used to the strange new world this girl found herself in. She was sometimes accompanied by Frigga’s handmaidens, who were just as gentle with the girl as the Queen was. When they walked through the great halls, the child kept a firm grip on the hand that Frigga offered her. She seemed to take to women faster than to men. She cowered at the sight of the Einherjar and the other workers and servants in the palace, but eventually warmed up to Thor and Odin and would accept their company on said walks. That being said, the girl was hesitant to leave the palace itself and Frigga had yet to coax her out into the gardens.
Loki normally avoided the pair when they went on their quiet strolls, mostly because he did not know how to be around the girl. In the back of his head, he was still convinced that she hated the sight of him. His brother wouldn’t let him live it down.
“You avoid her as though she is rampant with disease, Loki!” Thor would say to him.
To these comments, Loki usually just responded with a sigh.
* * *
It was on a clear and calm morning a month after the girl awoke that Loki had been on his way to the library. He intended to find some books specifically on Midgard and its geography, but was confronted by Thor, who stood in the halls with the little girl at his side. He had a huge paw encasing her delicate hand.
“Brother!” he greeted them once he noticed his younger sibling’s arrival. He gently nudged his companion and pointed. “Look, little one. It appears that Loki has chosen to join us.”
The girl looked up at Loki, who towered over her. She brought her free hand that remained covered by the long sleeves of her jumper up to her mouth and stared at him. After a moment, she lowered her gaze to the floor.
Loki’s brow piqued at his brother’s word. “Greetings, Thor. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I have no such intention of joining you both where ever you are off to.”
“No need to be so harsh. Where were you going?”
“To the library.”
At these words, the child perked up slightly and looked up at Loki again. Both brothers noticed the change in her demeanour and Loki was somewhat surprised by her reaction.
“Has the mention of our library grabbed your attention, little one?” Thor asked happily, but the disbelief was evident in his tone.
She nodded and looked between them, silently begging.
“Would you like to see it?”
Another more enthusiastic nod.
Thor grinned at his brother. “It would seem that she shares some of your passions, however dull they are.”
“I had not taken her for a reader,” Loki replied, studying the girl carefully. “I did not even know she had the ability to read.”
“Perhaps that is because you refuse to spend any time with her.”
The Trickster rolled his eyes. “There is no point. As soon as she is well, father will demand that she is returned to Midgard.”
“You have already said that father will not go through with such a demand. I hope we get to keep her.” Thor smiled at the girl at his side with a look resembling a proud owner admiring their pure-bred dog.
“She is not your pet!” Loki snapped suddenly feeling distressed at the thought.
“I thought you did not care for her?”
“I don’t, but mother promised that she would keep her safe and well treated.”
Thor considered his words, clearly amused by his sudden protective nature. “So be it.” He turned back to the child. “Well, I had not planned on a detour as I am supposed to meet with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three in the dining hall, but it seems that she wishes to visit your favourite place in the palace.”
The three of them walked towards their destination, their pace slow to accommodate the Midgardian. Once inside, she seemed amazed by the sight before her. Loki watched as she gazed up at the massive bookshelves, clearly torn between running to grab whatever pieces of literature she could and staying by Thor’s side out of apprehension. Rays of sunlight swept in through the tall windows as they made their way around. Loki noticed that no one else was present.
“This is where you spend all your time?” Thor enquired, looking around him in surprise.
“Yes. It is one of the few peaceful places in this palace.” Loki approached a shelf and ran his fingers along the spine of a huge leather-bound book he had been reading the night before.
“But it is so… dusty.”
His eyes rolled against his own accord. “By the Norns! When was the last time you have even been in here, Thor?”
The God of Thunder barked. “I think it was when we were children andour Political History tutor was trying to explain the importance of such knowledge on all the Nine Realms.”
“Arvid never did manage to hold your attention,” Loki mumbled under his breath as he tried to remember where most of the Midgardian texts were kept.
“Don’t be afraid, little one,” he heard Thor say over behind him. “Go and look around if you wish. It is only us in here.”
Throwing a quick glance back, he saw the girl gently release Thor’s hand after a hesitant expression and slowly moved away from his side. She gazed up at the bookshelves, marvelling at the sight before her. Loki eventually turned away and headed off in the direction of the Midgardian books. He took his time, taking in the passaged around him and pausing every now an then when a book title or design grabbed his attention. He left his brother and the girl to their own devices, concerning himself only with the task ahead of him.
He found the Midgardian texts easily enough. They were located at the end of an aisle in the corner of the library, one that was usually empty and untouched by others in the palace. Loki rarely encountered others when he brushed up on his Midgardian history. Since he was so small that he had to climb up shelves to reach the highest books, a lot of his time had been spent here. It was usually quiet and only the people who came here were eager to learn and gain knowledge of the Nine Realms. Here, he could be himself and read alone, instead of being constantly interrupted for not sparring in the training yards. He stood still in the aisle for a moment, canning the shelves specifically for books on the geography of earth. Pulling a particularly thick book from its spot on the shelf, he turned it over and gently wiped off the dust that covered it with his hand. He flicked through the pages quickly before approving of it. When he went to reach for another, he sensed the presence of another in the aisle with him. He turned and his green eyes met blue once more.
She stood at the other end of the aisle, obviously hesitant to approach with him staring back at her. He gazed at her for a moment, making sure to keep his expression neutral but not unwelcoming, before bringing his attention back to the books on the shelves. A full minute seemed to pass before he heard the gentle pitter-patter of her feet on the stone ground. She was getting closer ever so slowly. Loki could feel her eyes still on him. She reminded him of a cat; ever vigilant, watchful. She placed her feet carefully on the ground, every step making sure to keep the distance between them. Her body was tense, always worried about making a mistake or getting too close. The intention behind keeping his eyes on the books before him was to reduce any unnecessary nervousness she felt around him, not that he cared very much. He was so used to people being skittish around him when he was in a poor or mischievous mood. He was used to people treating him differently.
A tiny gasp sounded from behind him. It drew his attention away from a text on ‘the great Renaissance artists’ and back to the girl. She stood a bookshelf away, her neck craned up and her little mouth agape. Loki assumed that had spotted a title or interest. Her next movement confirmed his thoughts, for she hesitantly reached an arm up towards her target. The limb stretched but couldn’t reach. Even when she tried on the tips of her toes, the book still alluded her. She stared up at it and kept trying, despite the fact that she would obviously never be able to claim it.
Mortals are so very pathetic at times, Loki thought as he watched her fail at every attempt and while he would usually never pay heed to another in this library, he couldn’t stand to see the child struggle when the thought of getting a certain book consumed her so.
With a sigh, Loki put his books down on a nearby table and walked over to where she stood. His approach caused her to retreat a couple of feet very quickly, like she had been caught breaking a rule.
He looked blankly between the girl and the shelf he presumed her target resided. “Which one were you trying to reach?”
She stared back at him, her lips slightly parted, blue eyes glassy, but said nothing.
His tone was somewhat sarcastic. “Now would be a delightful time to start speaking, little one. I will get the book for you — it’s pathetic just watching you trying to reach it yourself.”
She didn’t answer him, but instead pointed up at the shelf that he was eye-level with. He looked between the books and her before pointing to one.
A shake of the head.
He moved one to the left.
Another shake.
To the left again.
She shook her head.
Another move to the left.
A nod. A very sure and quick nod.
Loki pulled the book from its hiding place. It was small, leather bound and brown, covered in even more dust than the ones he had been looking at. On the back of it imprinted into the leather was a small, red dragon. The book seemed dwarfed in his large hand and the gold-tinted title on the front cover caught his eye.
“The Hobbit,” he read aloud, looking it over. He had neither heard of it or read it before, but it seemed that the girl had. Loki would admit that he had ventured to the Midgardian fiction section of these shelves before him in the past, but had not known of this little book’s existence.
He looked up to find her watching him carefully, holding on to the sleeves of her jumper. She was waiting patiently, it seemed. Knowing that a question about the book wouldn’t receive an answer, he simply approached her cautiously and held it out to her. She regarded him carefully, reaching out a tentative little hand to grasp the book. Once he released it, she held it tightly against her chest. She looked down at it in awe, all of her attention now focused on the book.
This was how I found a little piece of home in such a faraway place. And he had helped me, whether he knew it or not.
“Why do you cower?” Loki asked suddenly, before he could stop himself. His outburst brought her gaze back to him, but he wasn’t answered. “You act as though I would strike you for desiring the book. Why do you cower from me? Tell me.”
The girl stared up at his towering form, resembling a tiny, delicate bird surrounded by the huge bookshelves. Her eyes were momentarily glassy and Loki feared that his exclamation would cause a fresh batch of tears from her. Fortunately, she never got the chance.
“Little one!” Thor’s voice boomed through the tranquility of the library. “Come! We have stayed long enough in this dull place. I must meet with the Warriors Three and Lady Sif.”
The loudness of his voice almost caused the Midgardian to jump out of her skin, but Loki noticed that her grip on the text remained so tight that he knuckles went white. With her head down, the girl turned and quietly made her way back to his brother, much to his annoyance. Loki grabbed his books once more and followed, keeping a distance between himself and the child. Thor stood by the doors, poking at a small book on a nearby desk with a look of very clear distaste. He seemed relieved when he looked up and saw their approach.
“She… she is taking a book?” he asked Loki, noticing said text in her scrawny arms.
“It would seem so,” the raven-haired prince replied and made his way to the door.
“She chose it herself?”
“Yes,” Loki snapped. He wasn’t eager in any way to discuss his exchange with the girl.
As the three of them walked out the doors and down the corridors of the palace, Loki could hear Thor speaking to the Midgardian behind him. “Do not waste all of your time with books, little one. Loki was foolish enough to do so before our mother began to train him in knife-combat. When you are bigger, I will start to train you myself. You will be able to say that the finest warrior in all the Nine Realms taught you to fight!”
Leave it to Thor to spoil something that need not be fixed, Loki thought. She needs to be a bit more social, yes, but if she wishes to read then allow her to read, you infuriating imbecile!
For a while, Loki couldn’t help but listen to Thor ramble on and on about battles he had been in and fights that he had won. The younger prince made sure that he was ahead of them the entire time they walked, but his frustrations were very well near boiling point. He was so close to turning and speaking his mind to Thor when distant voices caught his attention. Ahead of them, The Warriors Three and Sif rounded a corner and appeared in view.
Loki cursed under his breath and halted in his steps, causing his brother to almost barrel into his back.
“Thor!” Volstagg called upon seeing them. He noticed Loki eventually and greeted him briefly before turning his attention back to the God of Thunder. “We’ve been looking for you. Have you forgotten your promise to meet with us?”
“Apologies, my friends,” Thor chuckled, stepping ahead of Loki. “I was distracted but on my way to meet you all.”
“Is that what kept you?” Fandral asked, pointing to the girl that was behind the brothers, her hand still held in Thor’s.
Thor looked down at her fondly, oblivious to her discomfort. “Ah, yes. The little one wanted to explore the library so I chose to humour her.”
“You were in the library?” Sif asked, her eyebrow piqued with curiosity.
“It seems like the little one is taking after the Trickster,” Fandral laughed heartily.
“Now there shall be two mischief-makers strutting about Asgard,” Hogun sighed. “How delightful.”
“You speak of me as though I am not present,” Loki said through gritted teeth, biting back a snarl.
He felt Thor place a hand on his shoulder. “Brother, they only jest. Come, we should make our way to the dining hall.”
Thor’s suggestion was immediately met with silence from both his friends and his brother. Volstagg was the first to speak.
“You do not intend to bring the child with you, do you?” the burly man asked.
“And why would I not?”
“Thor, you cannot bring the girl with us,” Sif said, trying to keep her tone even. “Have you forgotten that after our meal we will be making our way to the forests outside of Asgard? It is not safe to bring her there, especially after the ordeal she has been through.”
“Sif is right,” Fandral agreed, looking between the child and Thor. “Not only would she be in danger out there, but she would be a hindrance!”
“I did not intend to babysit a Midgardian this afternoon,” Hogun grumbled.
Volstagg stroked his ginger beard thoughtfully. “Nor I. It’s not safe. Keeping her here in the safety of the palace would be best.”
“I do not fear for her safety,” Thor scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “She will be in the company of the finest warriors in all the Nine Realms! She will learn from the best.”
Fandral let out a chuckle. “Judging by how tightly she is holding that book in her arms, it would seem that she shares more of the Trickster’s interests than ours. Perhaps she would benefit from spending time in his company instead.”
Loki was seething. He had enough. They constantly spoke of him a though he wasn’t there. He was rarely ever addressed directly and if he was, it was usually an insult or a jest. His fists were clenched so tight around his books that his knuckles were white. “You intend to leave the girl behind with me while you all go gallivanting off into the forests like a bunch of imbeciles? I am not a babysitter.”
From beside him, Thor spoke up again. “Well, they do make a fair point, Loki. It is about time you bonded with her. Midgardians are also forbidden from wandering around Asgard while unattended.”
The God of Mischief whipped around to face his sibling. “You do not wish for us to bond! All you want to do is go off and pretend to be a powerful warrior with them! You feign interest in her safety when you all want for her to be away from you.”
Loki could tell that his words had impacted his brother a little more than a common squabble, but he was beyond caring. He was fed up with being left behind and now he was being left with a child that wouldn’t even speak.
Thor’s gaze was levelled on him, his eyes calculating carefully. When he spoke, his tone was oddly even. “Perhaps you should take her back to your precious books. Tell mother that we will return tomorrow.” Before he continued, he released the girl’s hand and ruffled her hair with his huge hand. She shrunk away slightly, but managed to look up at him for a few seconds. “Do not be intimidated by Loki, little one. His bark is far worse than his bite.”
Without another word, Thor walked passed them both and his companions followed quickly after him. No goodbyes were offered from them. Instead, they began to laugh and talk loudly amongst themselves before they rounded the corner and left Loki and the girl with only each others company. He stared at the spot where they had disappeared and the Midgardian stayed silent; although he expected nothing less. Turning on his heel and staring down at her, he let out a sigh and addressed her.
“Perhaps spending less time with them will be beneficial,” he explained, agitated. “You are less likely to be so moronic when they are not around to influence you.”
The girl didn’t respond, but managed to gaze back at him as he spoke. Shoving the books under his arm, Loki strode in the opposite direction Thor had gone, leaving the girl on her own. He did not care what she did, he just wanted to be away from people and be in his own company. That was all he wished for that day, but it seemed like the Norns were against him.
Whenever Loki wanted to be on his own and read, he made his way to Frigga’s gardens. More specifically, he made his way to a section where no one but he ever seemed to tread. It was a small, secluded part on the outskirts of the gardens, surrounded by tall hedging and a large cork tree. Under its branches was where he usually sat, back perched against its trunk and a book in his hands. As a child, he spent a lot of his time here when he had been left alone and had a fight with his brother, or when Odin scolded him. Under the ever-changing leaves of this tree and clematis that grew up its sturdy trunk, he read stories of adventures he could escape in and studied seiðr and literature so that he could improve the talents he had. Under the leaves of this tree, he grew up alone. Under the branches of this tree, he educated himself. And he loved it.
He settled himself on the grass against the tree trunk, flipping open the book specifically on Midgardian geography and delving into its pages. Eying a map that showed the layout of the planet to its entirety, he took note of the names of both countries and continents (some of which he already knew), the Norse ruins spelling it out plainly for him beside their French, Spanish, and English (the languages used by large populations of Midgard) names. His eyes swept from left to right, a single finger tracking his movements.
Canada, the United States of America, Mexico, Columbia, Peru, Brazil, Morocco, Mali, Algeria, Portugal, Spain, France, Ireland, the United Kingdom, Germany…
He had been sitting there for less than half an hour when he heard approaching footsteps, however gentle they were. His green eyes looked up expectantly at the track that led to his spot. He smirked, noticing the rustle in the hedges.
“It is not wise to try to sneak up of the God of Mischief, little one,” he called out, looking back down at his text. Once he had wet his finger on his tongue and turned a page, he spoke again. “Emerging from your hiding place would probably be the best decision, you know.”
… Pakistan, India, China, Thailand, North Korea, South Korea, Japan…
He received no verbal reply; he had not expected one considering he knew who his pursuer was. He resumed examining his maps as she slowly appeared from behind the hedge, her Midgardian book still in her arms. She stopped a fair distance away from him, but he didn’t look up. He had a funny feeling that she was following him to his hiding place. He had hoped that she would tire of him and go her own way, but that seemed to be wishful thinking. Both of them held their ground and neither spoke. The only things that sounded in the garden was the rustle of the leaves in the light breeze and the flick of the pages of Loki’s book.
“You are terrible company,” he commented dryly, glancing up as he finished reading the map.
She remained standing beside the hedge, watching him cautiously. If she was watching for a single, a sign that he approved of her being here, then he didn’t know what to say to her. She still stood some distance away and he remained in his seat.
“Do you intend to just stand there all day?” Loki asked, green eyes boring into her. “And still, you do not respond to my questions. I do not know why I am surprised. You have barely made a peep in the weeks you have spent here on Asgard. Perhaps a trickster god such as myself can rouse a peep from you.”
Loki didn’t need an explanation as to why he chose to do what happened next. His excuse was that he was the God of Mischief and Lies; he got enjoyment from playing pranks on others and seeing their reactions when he did so. With a small wave of his hand, two branches that rested on the ground a few feet from him roused to life. He felt the seiðr course through him and watched as the branches wriggled and morphed into two black snakes, no bigger than his forearm. They slithered towards the girl, their bodies moving like a meandering river through the grass. He smirked as she looked down and noticed their approach, jumping and clutching her book to her chest. What surprised Loki was that she didn’t cower in fear, but merely jumped from surprise. Once she had gathered herself, the girl gazed at the magical snakes in wonder as they made their way passed her and into the hedges for shelter. She craned her head down at the spot where they disappeared and Loki’s smile fell.
“Well, that was a disappointment.”
His voice caught the girl’s attention and she looked at him with wide, shell-shocked eyes.
Finally finished with playing games, he let out a sigh and continued on. “Sit down and read your book if you so insist. Just… stay quiet and don’t disturb me anymore. I come here for some peace, not to look after a mortal child.”
He kept his head down, as if it was focused on the pages in his book, but his gaze came up to watch her and she slowly sat herself on the grass beside the hedge, her legs crossed. Her body was still tense — anyone could see it, but she seemed to be trying to relax. She stared at him for a moment before she set the book in her lap and opened it up. With his eyes still on her, he noticed that the Midgardian was trying to find a specific page before she began to read. She was halfway through the book before she found her desired point and finally started to read.
And so they sat together in silence, flicking through their books under the leaves of the cork tree until the sun gradually set beyond the horizon and the stars came out of hiding. Under the leaves of this tree, the tension between them gradually faded and drifted away with the evening’s breeze.
#loki#loki x ofc#loki x ofc fanfiction#unofferable fic#fanfiction#fanfic#thor odinson#mcu#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#tom hiddleston#avengers#frigga#odin#loki x oc#god of mischief#loki fandom#thor ragnarok#asgard#loki laufeyson
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Interruptions
I’m posting at lunch because I’m impatient and this chapter has a lot of good things in it and I’m excited.
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Aurelia’s sitting at the table in the chief’s house, surrounded by stacks of letters, Arvid sitting across from her and staring at her in a way that kind of makes my stomach hurt. I can’t help but think of Ingrid earlier, because that look on Arvid’s face, well…he’s in the chief’s house for her, he’d die before he flew off without her. Aurelia waves with the end of her writing stick before scooting down in her chair to write another line.
“How’s Ingrid?” She asks, not really looking up and Arvid looks at me, interest piqued.
“She’s uh…” I shrug, looking for a half decent lie, “coping.”
“That bad, huh?” Aurelia looks up at Arvid and they have a silent conversation mostly made of eyebrows.
“I was thinking,” Arvid says almost like he’s daring me to start a fight.
“Yeah?”
“About Ingrid.” He continues like he wasn’t entirely sure he’d get this far and Aurelia’s the one with that disgusting fond face now. “We could take shifts, maybe, staying with her.”
“That’s a good idea, in theory,” I pause there waiting for him to pick the fight and when it doesn’t happen I walk the rest of the way up to the table, hands on the back of an empty chair. “But she’s pretty upset, she doesn’t want to feel like she has to comfort anyone else.”
He flexes his jaw and I half expect for him to kick my feet out from under me. Aurelia looks at him, expectantly blinking, and he shrugs.
“She doesn’t have to comfort me.” He looks at the table, tracing the grain with a fingertip and not so expertly avoiding eye contact, but we’re talking and no one is bleeding so I’m going to take it as a win. “I just wasn’t expecting—it’s Ingrid.”
“I know.”
“And…” He looks up like he’s debating with himself and Aureila stays out of it this time, writing away in neat little runes and making me really glad I convinced the chief to share that load. “And I think she’s lying, it’s Ingrid, she’d never accidentally cut off half her hand. I don’t buy it.”
It’s kind of a nice reminder of the days when Arvid and I used to operate on the same wavelength. I guess that’s true of Ingrid, in general, she left when we were still friends. Maybe after he’d decided I wasn’t his brother anymore, but we were still trying to hold onto some part of that.
Until I lashed out at him and called him stupid for not seeing what we both missed. I hate looking back at that now, at that feeling that if I hurt him, somehow I’d have less hurt to deal with myself.
“That’s a good guess,” I sigh, “don’t ask her about it, I’m hoping she’ll tell us all when she’s ready.”
“She told you?” He doesn’t sound offended so much as left out and I get that entirely.
“Not really by choice, it was right after she got back, she was really upset.” I wince at the memory, “she cried.”
“I saw that.”
“No, she cried more than once. But don’t tell her I told you that, because—”
“Got it,” Arvid crosses his arms and goes back to mostly ignoring me. “I can be over there tonight.”
“You—Dad—Er, your dad has been sleeping there, you can—not that I can tell you where to sleep or—”
“Can’t you?” He snaps at me and Aurelia kicks his shin under the table. He doesn’t quite flinch and I refuse to back off, but I get the feeling neither of us want to fight. That fighting would just be clinging to the old newly established social order, that Ingrid is back and she’s hurt and everything feels different again. Our parents are talking and we have to define our roles all over again and just thinking about it makes me exhausted.
“I don’t want to. Go sleep in your normal bed, if you want, ask your dad, I haven’t been forcing heart to hearts on him or anything.”
“Alright,” he drops it. For now. I want it to be the final drop but I don’t feel particularly optimistic about it, even if Aurelia appears to be fully on my side for once.
“So you’ve got part of an afternoon off Ingrid watch,” Aurelia waggles her eyebrows at me in a way I really wish she wouldn’t in front of Arvid, “any plans?”
“When have I ever had plans?”
Arvid snorts then glares at the table, like he doesn’t want me to know I amused him even at my own expense.
“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “I just thought you might like to start with someone who’d like to have plans with you.”
I glare at her. She looks up at me and grins, and it kind of looks like a threat. At the same time, someone threatening me with Fuse, who happens to like me and who I’m only now realizing I haven’t seen since the middle of the night when she slipped out from under my arm. My glare turns into something goofy and she raises her eyebrows.
“I’ll see you guys later.”
I go back outside and get on Bang, urging him into the sky and coating in the direction of the Thorston house. I don’t know where I’m going to go if she’s not there, because it’s Fuse and she’s building bombs and that could mean day trips off island looking for supplies, and as willing as I am to follow her, time is shorter than I’d like it to be. How have I gone days without thinking about it? About her? About the fact that she kissed me and we talked and she fell asleep under my arm like she fit there.
I guess I’ve been busy.
I get lucky and spy her pink tinted head and Hotgut outside of her shed just as they’re about to take off. I land and she stares at me for a second before smiling, a nervous smile like she’s happy to see me but is also worrying about what bad news that implies. Bang whuffs at Hotgut, dragging his tail back and forth across the ground and Hotgut snorts.
“Hey,” Fuse cocks her head and her hair is shinier than I remember it, “I figured you wouldn’t be around for a while. How’s Ingrid?”
“She’s doing as good as could be expected,” I sigh, “Arvid offered to take a shift without pummeling my face in though so…”
“I was going to eat at the mead hall, my mom’s not cooking because my brother stole a stink bomb and set it off in the kitchen.”
“Long story?” I laugh and I can’t help but notice that she’s wearing a different shirt than the last time I saw her which means she must have changed at some point and existed in that temporary unclothed state.
“No, I just told you all of it.” She frowns at me like I hit my head and I practically feel like I must have.
“I haven’t eaten all day. I could go for some food.”
“Ok, let’s go,” she swings onto Hotgut and takes off before I can say anything else. She lands before I do but waits and I’m not sure what to do when I step away from Bang’s side. I think about hugging her, but that seems sudden, but everything’s going to feel sudden when each and every new thought about her hits like a physical blow.
“Should we uh...go inside?”
“What else would we do,” she laughs but it’s not really at me but she doesn’t wait for me either and I don’t realize until I see her cheeks flushing that she doesn’t know how to do this either, whatever this is.
We get food and sit down at the end of a table across from each other and she stares at me for a weird, warm moment I don’t quite understand. I wish it were dark, somehow, it was easier to talk to her then, when she wasn’t blinding me with all of her everything.
“What have you been up to?”
She smiles down at the table, a little of that dangerous edge sneaking in, “collecting Meatlug’s spoils. My uncle never lets me use her, something about keeping the peace but…it’s looking good.” She nods, trying to force her trademark pragmatism over genuine excitement. Her eyes are almost too blue to be real and I want to tell her that but my mouth’s dry. “I could probably have it done in three weeks.” She smiles at me then, an awkward, off center smile that looks like flirting and my face is so hot it could restart the forge. “Two if you had any time to help.”
“I don’t. But I want to.” I take my first bite of food and realize how fully hungry I am, shoveling in two more. Fuse wrinkles her nose and I remember that girls don’t like that, for some reason, wiping my chin with the back of my hand. “It’s crazy how close we are.”
“If we’re right,” she frowns, “it’s all going off of my hunch about that thermal vent.”
“Hey,” I reach across the table and set my hand on hers and she doesn’t move away, “you’re right. You’re always right.”
She smiles. I’m not sure what to do with my other hand or my food now that my stomach is churning, excited and nervous.
“That’s not true,” she shrugs, “you must be biased.”
“I probably am.” I wish we were on the same side of the table. Why’d I sit across from her? Why would I ever purposefully put anything between us at all? I wish it was dark again, I wish we were alone. I try not to look as out of control as I suddenly feel but it doesn’t work because I jump about a foot in the air when someone’s hand lands on my shoulder.
It’s the chief.
“Hey, you two, how’s it going?”
At least I jumped high enough that my hand came off of Fuse’s so he can’t tease me about that. I don’t really feel like dealing with the chief’s teasing on top of everything else.
“Fine.” I shrug. Fuse takes a bite that’s almost disappointed and I realize that she’d rather be alone too. Her gray sweater sleeves are pushed halfway up her arms, showing skinny, freckled wrists and the chief is staring creepily at us, vague half smile on his face.
“Just fine?”
“Do you need something?” I huff and turn towards him, easily finding my most annoyed face.
“How’s Ingrid?” He asks with enough legitimate concern that I’d feel bad for glaring at him if it were anyone else.
“Arvid’s with her.”
“She still won’t let a healer look at it?” He asks like he’s tired of asking and Mom’s probably been on his back about it even more than mine.
“No, but I did convince her earlier to let Gobber look at it. I thought Mom might take Gobber’s opinion as an answer even though she won’t take mine.”
“She’s just worried, it’s not that she doesn’t trust you.” He nods, “and Gobber, that’s a good idea. What did he say?”
“I couldn’t find him so he hasn’t seen her yet.”
“I’ll let him know to come find you if I see him.”
I look at Fuse and back at the chief, trying to silently tell him why I maybe don’t want Gobber finding me exactly right now. He doesn’t get it, just awkwardly smiling at us when I don’t say anything immediately.
“Or maybe you could just tell him Mom wants him to look at Ingrid’s hand.”
“I haven’t seen it myself,” the chief shakes his head, “I wouldn’t know what to prepare him for.”
“It’s a hand without some of its fingers, I bet Gobber can figure it out.”
“It’s better if you ask him.” The chief almost orders and I sigh. He’s probably right, Ingrid will be more likely to go along with it if it comes from me.
“Ok. Sure.”
“Also, just wanted to give you a heads up but Sven was asking me about that dam that’s apparently leaking over on Brinhild’s creek?” The chief points in the vague direction he’s talking about and I can feel Fuse staring at the side of my face as he does and I wipe my chin again, self-conscious about being at the other end of her critical gaze. Fuse could probably look at me long enough to talk herself out of the insanity of liking me and it’s going to be all the chief’s fault when it happens. “I told him to come find you too, you just know more about it—”
“Sure. Fine.”
“Ok,” he looks between us again, that stupid smile like he has something to do with anything about this on his face, “well, you two have a good night.”
“Bye, chief.” I turn back to Fuse and look at her almost cautiously, “sorry about that.”
“You’re busy,” she takes an almost dainty bite and she’s still just…looking at me and I try not to do anything weird with my face, but that’s probably impossible at this point. “I didn’t realize you were handling so much on your own.”
“Not really on my own,” I shrug and do I always shrug like that? Or does my shoulder usually move more normally? I’m suddenly aware of how wide I am and it feels like the edge of my shoulder is really far out there and I’m not sure what to do with my hands because they feel limp and itchy just sitting on the table. “Everyone’s been helping out but…”
“But it sounds like the chief’s trusting you with some actual decisions.”
“He didn’t really have a choice,” I snort, “someone had to step in when he was…you know, all…sad about—gods, that’s not a very cheerful conversation. Why would I bring that up? Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she smiles, “I’m used to your stream of consciousness word vomit routine by now.”
“Trust me, it’s not stream of consciousness.” I look at her sweater again, like a tick, this time fixating on the point of her collarbone just barely visible outside of the stretched out collar and gods, I shouldn’t be in public, I’m making such a mess of this. I especially shouldn’t be in public with Fuse, but that makes me think of the alternative of being in private with Fuse and I half expect her to read my mind and like…plant something deadly in my pocket.
“You’re trying to tell me you have any kind of filter?” She laughs at me but it doesn’t feel mean, it’s like the Fuse version of a joke and I laugh too.
“I’m filtering most of it right now.” I tap my temple with my finger and it feels dorky and she looks at my arm like she’s not sure why I have to be so embarrassing and I wish I had an answer for her.
“Why?” She frowns and it’s the first time in my life I wish she weren’t so perfectly direct because now I have to tell her something that doesn’t make me sound like a pervert or an idiot.
“Because you’re pretty.” I blurt, successfully sounding halfway between pervert and idiot. “And I have a lot of thoughts about it.”
Her expression doesn’t move but she turns red, redder than I’ve ever seen her, and I can’t help but wonder if it makes her skin feel hot to the touch. And then I’m thinking about touching her face and how it’d fit in the palm of my hand and maybe I should ask for something to blow myself up before I dig any further into this pit.
“Oh.” She nods, still red but smiling slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards just enough that I relax.
She likes being called pretty. Ok. That’s good to know.
“So uh…bombs?” I fall back on something else I know she likes and she nods like she’s glad for the change of subject. “What’s uh…what’s the coolest thing you’ve ever blown up?”
“Probably that ice I cleared out of the harbor last year,” she grins at the memory and she’s so literal I want to hug her.
“I didn’t mean coolest like…coldest,” I laugh and she turns red again, “but I remember that, that was pretty awesome, it made all that green snow.”
“It was also one of the coolest. I like the water ignited stuff, it’s so counter-intuitive.”
“Because water should put out fire.” It’s nice talking to her. Like, actually talking to her. Not her giving me advice, not planning something with her or clarifying some stupid misunderstanding, but getting her to share something. She does that so little that everything she says feels like some secret she’s trusting me with. I want to ask more about it, like if she has any idea how it works and I’m trying to figure out how to say it when Sven appears out of seemingly nowhere and interrupts.
“Eret! Just the man I’m looking for,” he leans on the table between us, blocking half my view of Fuse and turning everything fun about this into torture, “the dam leak’s worse, too much water’s getting through to repair it with rubble from the new wood storage. It pushes those rocks down river before you can say flooded hanger.”
“Did you tell the chief that?” I ask, mostly to get rid of him and he shrugs, shaking the table.
“He said you knew more about the problem.”
“I’ll think about it and try and get some decision to you tomorrow, alright?”
“Gustav wants us on it bright and early tomorrow morning, I wasn’t kidding about the flooded hanger, lad.” He looks a little awkward and lowers his voice, “not enough dragons in there right now for me to trust them to keep it dry.”
“Is there a way to stem the flow up stream to slow it down enough for repairs?”
“Not that I know of,” he shrugs, awkward again, “we used to use a whispering death to dig a new diversion trench but I haven’t caught any around yet. It’s early season for them, though.”
“Let me…oh!” I draw with my fingertip on the table, “there’s that tributary halfway up the mountain, the one by that cave…do you know what I’m talking about?”
“The cave,” he thinks for a second and I can feel Fuse looking at me again, her eyes hot on my face and I don’t know if I want to hide or look back at her. “Right! Just south of the point.”
“Yes, that little creek flows into the bigger creek, but I bet it could be temporarily blocked with a boulder long enough for the repairs downstream.”
“We can try that,” he stands up, nodding to himself like he’s thinking through it, “I’ll let Gustav know.”
“You aren’t going to run it by the chief or anything?” I don’t know why this decision feels more important than all those I made when I was alone, but somehow it does. It feels like the first one of a new era, I guess, different because the chief could shut me down but won’t.
“Don’t have time,” he shrugs, “I was lucky to find you before I had to bring another excuse back to Gustav. I’ll let you get back to your meal,” he looks almost suspiciously at Fuse, who doesn’t seem to notice, and I sigh, relieved, when he leaves through the main doors.
“Sorry, about that,” I gesture at the doors and Fuse shakes her head.
“Don’t be,” she fiddles with the end of her braid, almost shy for a moment before that feeling that she can see straight into my thoughts comes across me, “just maybe next time we want to talk we should stay away from people who want you to make decisions.”
“Right,” I sigh, “we should have never left your work shed, honestly.”
“Next time,” she suggests. Her cheeks turn red again and I almost ask why until I realize that she’s talking about being alone in her work shed the next time we have a chance to talk.
And that the idea is something to blush about and she’s been staring at me so long that she can’t hate it as much as I feared. And I remember what kissing her felt like and the warmth of her under my arm and it feels like there’s not enough room in my chest when I think about being alone with the air as clear as it is between us. She likes me. I look down at her sweater again, remembering how soft she felt when she hugged me and the tips of my ears feel so hot I’m scared they’re about to spontaneously catch on fire.
“Y-yeah,” I stutter out, ever eloquent under pressure. She raises her eyebrows and breathes out a single laugh, almost relieved that I made a bigger fool out of myself than she did.
Like she ever even makes a fool out of herself. I can’t remember a time she didn’t come out of a conversation sparkling clean while I was an embarrassed mess. I must have liked her longer than I knew to be so stupid around her for so long. Hel, maybe my body knew before me from the way I keep wanting to lean into her, like she’s a magnet pulling on me in particular.
“Hey twerp,” Smitelout sits down beside me and I jump, glaring at her and hoping my red face makes me look as angry as I suddenly am and not embarrassed. “Can I measure your hand?” She holds out a piece of leather with a few marks on it at even intervals and I reflexively hold my hand to my chest.
“What? No. Of course not.”
“Ugh, they’re gigantic anyway,” she looks at my hands before doing the same to Fuse’s and it feels oddly violating in a way I don’t totally understand. “And Thorston’s are too skinny. You guys are no help at all, where’s your mom?”
“I don’t know!” I snap, “go find her yourself, it’s not that big of an island.”
“Just asking,” she stands up, rocking the bench as she does so and making me feel even more off kilter. “Oh yeah, and Fuse. I’ll have the uh…stuff,” she whispers as loudly as anyone has ever whispered, making it seem like she’s talking about something secret and also like she wants me to punch her, “ready pretty soon.”
“Thanks Smitelout,” Fuse’s tone is clipped and she’s annoyed and that means she was thinking something that got cut off too.
And she liked whatever she was thinking about enough that it’s annoying to have it truncated and I don’t know what to do with that. Or any of this. She likes me, that’s impossible enough. Just look at her and it’s impossible and it just gets even more improbable when she opens her mouth.
“Have a good rest of your date, nerds,” Smitelout just has to get in one more comment before walking away and of course it’s the worst of them all.
“This isn’t—I mean, maybe it—”
“Does it matter?” She shrugs, “I don’t care what you want to call it—”
“I mean, date is a word.” I cough and stutter over nothing because I can’t make anything not stupid come out of my mouth.
“Yeah, I know that.” She laughs at me like she still somehow likes me and I have no idea how I haven’t messed this up yet.
Someone else taps me on the shoulder. Every bit of anxious hope in my chest instantly turns to intense frustration and I snap, loud enough that someone drops a plate across the room.
“What? What do you want?” I look over my shoulder and it’s Gobber, eyebrows raised. “Oh. Hi Gobber.”
“Smitelout told me you were looking for me.”
“That’s uncharacteristically helpful of her.”
“Was it to apologize for yelling in my face?” He asks, not quite annoyed, and I’m getting dragged into another conversation against my will, aren’t I?
“Sorry. You just…uh, scared me.” I look apologetically at Fuse and she shrugs like she somehow already accepts that this is just the stupid new order of things. “What I actually wanted to talk to you about is—well, I, uh…” I struggle to think about anything other than Fuse and date and the fact that she blushes when she thinks about being alone with me, “Ingrid. Right. I wanted to talk to you about Ingrid.”
“I heard she’s back,” Gobber shrugs, “well, most of her.”
“Yeah,” I hold up my right hand and mime cutting across three fingers, “that’s what I wanted your help with. She won’t let any healers look at it because she’s as stubborn as a Rumblehorn with a yak carcass and my Mom doesn’t trust me that it’s not rotting off. I was hoping you could look at it and reassure her.”
“Well, is it rotting off?”
“No. No swelling either, no fever, no uh…signs of infection,” I try to say delicately, because it feels like a bad plan to say ‘pus’ in front of a girl on something that might be kind of a date, “since the first time I cleaned it right after she got back.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll take a look at it.” Gobber holds up his hook, “my lifetime of experience should convince Astrid.”
“Thank you, that’s what I was hoping for.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s up at my old house. My dad and Arvid are there if you want to drop by now. Or tomorrow is fine but—”
“Let’s get it over with now, in case you did miss something and your Mom has reason to worry.” He looks between me and Fuse and raises an eyebrow, “I don’t have Grump with me so you’ll have to give me a lift, if that’s not a problem...or is it?”
I sigh and try to say sorry to Fuse with my eyes. I’m lucky, because she gets it, even though she looks so disappointed it hurts when I stand up away from the table.
“It’s not a problem. You’re right, we should do this now.” I take a second to look forlornly at my half eaten food before waving at Fuse, “I’ll…see you later. Sorry it’s just—”
“I get it,” she’s so understanding I could kiss her. If we weren’t here in the center of all annoying, interrupting people, I’d get to.
Gobber and I walk outside and I try to ignore his look, so he intensifies it as I help him onto Bang.
“What?”
“Fuse Thorston, eh?”
“Shut up,” I climb on Bang in front of him and kick off just fast enough that I can’t hear him tease me on the way to my old house.
#eret iii#festerverse#fuse thorston#arvid hofferson#aurelia haddock#smitelout jorgenson#feret#smingrid#i'm tagging it because fuck. it.#put that hint together
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i woke up very in my feelings about lifespan differences today (specifically about Arvid and Gale), but then I realized that... not only do they have access to the Wish spell eventually (though outside of the game's canon), there's also literal divine intervention.
like even in the game, it does say that a level 10 cleric can request, once in their adventure (so once in a lifetime I guess), for their god to intervene, and grant them a boon. These are canonically pretty limited, but I honestly kind of love the idea of Tempus, this decidedly chaotic neutral entity of pure war and pandemonium, taking the forsaken of Mystra into his protection as a favor to one of his protégés.
Like, by fighting with honor as hard as they did, achieving their victory over a foe as mighty as the Absolute, they both won Tempus' approval, and when one of his clerics boldly reached out to Tempus in desperation to preserve his beloved's life (maybe in a very dicey moment), this chaotic, weirdo god decided... y'know what, imma do this boy one better. Like on one hand, they've more than earned the right to peacefully join the Order of the Broken Blade, but also, it would really piss off Mystra, and he kind of wants to see what'd happen.
and from then on, Gale finds... that his body has changed, subtly. Not his appearance, his wrinkles and grey hairs have stayed of course, he looks exactly like himself, but... his knees are not aching as much. His back feels less stiff than before after long periods of sitting. He has a bit more energy, red wine doesn't give him as much of a headache the next morning, and overall, he feels... just a touch younger, and as if his aging had subtly slowed. And while I'm sure initially he just passes that off as the effects of happiness, lessened stress, no chronic pain, and a better diet, and he continues his own research into longevity (because there's no fucking way what does them part will be something as mundane and gauche as the limitations of human flesh), after a couple years without any noticeable change to his body, he does begin to suspect that something fishy is going on.
So they talk, and Arvid (now a full-time healer and house-husband) doesn't know what he could do to help figure this out, so one day, after his regular prayers, he requests an audience with Tempus for the first time in years, and asks for guidance.
And Tempus, oddly receptive to the request as if he's been actually looking a bit forward to this conversation, just says "oh yeah, remember when you asked me to save his life? Yeah, funny story, that one- he was already gonna survive, so I just matched his aging to yours. For funsies. Yeah, he should easily live like another 3 centuries or so. Mystra fucking hates it btw, it's awesome. She can't do shit about it. I haven't had this much fun in eons."
#squirrel plays bg3#oc: arvid trygg#“yeah it's not like he'd be my chosen or anything”#“and it's not technically immortality or whatever”#"so it's not like Mystra can say or do anything about it#“yeah he just ages like a dwarf now you're welcome”
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wait I meant 29 but either one JZHCJXHC
29. “You’re a really bad liar.”
Characters: Arvid Cairn (Original Character), Bi-Han (Mortal Kombat)
Fandom: Star Wars x Mortal Kombat Crossover
Short Summary: Somehow Dragons just always know
ffdufhjdhfjdhfjdf if i wasn't so shrimp-brained I'd do both but 29 is just!! so good MMMMMM
The fact of the matter was that Arvid Cairn, despite his rather exhausted and 'done-with-life' appearance and expression, was a being who was extremely attentive to the world around him. Even more so when it came to the people he cared about in the said world.
Between half-empty glasses of alcohol and an unfinished meal, some of his creche-mates— all good friends of Arvid's— had jokingly taken note of it. In the end, they had somehow decided that while other draconics' would horde treasures of gems and gold, Arvid's ended up being more... people based. He hadn't minded then, and he didn't mind it now.
Especially since it helped him keep track of his more... stubborn siblings.
At least Jaro had gotten it through his thick skull— and he said this affectionately— that there was no use hiding anything from Arvid.
Bi-Han had yet to get the message it seemed.
In truth, he wasn't sure how long the cyromancer Jedi had been back from whatever mission he had taken off on, but the fact was that he was back and looked like shit. And Arvid knew what that looked like.
He also knew that, like many Jedi, Bi-Han had an issue with staying still long enough to be considered 'rested' and 'healed'. Something that Healers still complained to him about whenever the Artisan Departments and the Healer Divisions went out for drinks before the New Years— often joined with Archivists and Instructors, but that was beside the point.
Finding Bi-Han wasn't hard, considering how Arvid didn't even need to find him— Bi-Han always ended up finding Arvid instead.
And it was always to pick a fight, too.
Arvid sighed, setting his chisel down as he turned to look at the other dark-haired Jedi. None of the other woodworkers in the shop really looked over for more than a moment at Bi-Han's declaration to fight. At this point, it was expected for him to pop up to challenge Arvid for a fight every so often, so they had all simply gotten used to it.
"Bi-Han," he said slowly, "You look like shit. You just escaped from the Halls of Healing, I bet, and now you're asking me for a fight?"
Bi-Han shifted a bit, brows furrowed in slight frustration— and even though he was wearing a mask that covered his mouth, Arvid could tell that he was scowling.
"I'm perfectly fine," Bi-Han insisted and Arvid highly doubted that. To him, it looked like it was taking all of his strength to keep himself upright. So Arvid inclined his head, raising a brow.
"You know," he started, tail uncurling as he did. "You really can't lie for shit."
A look of confusion crossed Bi-Han's expression before it quickly changed to startled as his legs were knocked out from under him by Arvid's tail. He didn't crash to the ground, per say, as Arvid caught him with his tail before he did. Bi-Han, of course, struggled against the hold as Arvid wrapped it around him and drew him up against his back before going back to his work. But there was no real way for Bi-Han to escape, no matter how much he wriggled, seeing how he was both wrapped and trapped under Arvid's tail.
Still, it wasn't as if the other Jedi didn't try to do so.
"I told you I'm fine! Let me out!" Bi-Han snapped as he wriggled. Arvid paid him no mind as he went back to chipping the wood block into shape. Arvid hummed, not looking over his shoulder at him.
"And I told you, you're a really bad liar."
#Penguinkiwi Answers Stuff#Penguinkiwi Writes#Penguin Writes: Star Wars#Penguin Writes: Mortal Kombat#Bi-Han#Noob Saibot#Arvid Cairn (PKWSW)#Star Wars#Crossover#Leo Tag#Mortal Kombat#Penguinkiwi OC Squad
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Bitter Good News
So this isn’t going to come as much of a shock to quite a few of you who guessed it...but maybe the reactions will? This is a big old pivot point in this story here and I have so many feelings about it. Oh Eret. My little tortured son.
Tumblr | AO3
No one wants to build the bridge where the chief wants the bridge. It takes half the morning to agree to building it half a gronckle-length to the West, but that results in another half day of tracking down the extra materials that it’ll take to move the thing, because apparently efficiency isn’t the name of the game, even though we haven’t fully figured out the woodbin yet.
The chief doesn’t catch up to me.
I don’t think too much of it, honestly, because he’s probably just heading to the next thing on the list, but by the time I’m struggling to finish up item number six out of seven, checking in on the mead hall roof, I’m starting to worry. If it takes a whole day to figure out, it’s not not serious. But that doesn’t mean much, it’s Mom, right? Mom is untouchable.
It’s probably whatever made Ruffnut puke and she just had to slip some to my Mom because that’s how it is.
Task seven isn’t important, nothing is going to blow up if I don’t look at the woodpile progress today, especially since I saw it partially this morning when I checked in on materials for the bridge, so I head back to the chief’s house a little early. Bang seems more eager to get in the door that usual and he jostles me against the doorframe hard enough that I kind of doubt what I’m seeing for a second.
The chief looks like he’s been crying. Aurelia looks at me like she’s not sure if she knows what the truth is. Mom looks calm and healthy and I pause just inside as Bang runs to curl around her feet, scooting most of the furniture in the room out of his path.
“So…what the fuck is going on?” I try for delicacy but fail, heart racing as my mind filters through a million kinds of bad news. I’ve never thought of Mom as someone who needed medical help and now that door is open I’m reeling.
“It’s not scary.” Aurelia shakes her head and I take another step inside.
“Ok, but—”
“Your Mom’s pregnant.” The chief is crying. Or he sounds like it, at least, even though he’s smiling and Aurelia still doesn’t seem to know what to think.
I laugh, “what are you talking about?”
“I’m pregnant,” Mom sighs, “it’s the only thing that matches up with everything.”
“What is everything?” I’m sure she doesn’t mean everything as in everything, as in the last few months of our lives, as in the overwhelming change from how things used to be. That whole family where she was a mother of four teenagers and adults.
“It’s a miracle, honestly, the healers could hardly believe it,” the chief pops off of the bench where he was just cuddling my Mom in front of me while delivering this news he seems so gods-damned happy about. This news. This impossible news. “I didn’t think it was possible, I barely even thought of it.”
And what keeps hitting me is that the chief looks ecstatic and Mom looks worried about something other than me, worried about something on the other side of the back of my head.
“Who’s the father?” I blurt, and it’s heavy and funny and I can’t help but think of the moment my dad knew I wasn’t his, not really. It’s like I suddenly appeared into some alternate version of a past I wish didn’t exist.
“Eret!” The chief snaps, angry in a way he hardly ever is and Mom barks out a laugh, leaning forward and cradling her head in her hands.
“Yeah, big brother, that’s a little more than uncalled for—” Aurelia glares at me.
“I thought it was nostalgic?” I’m still just looking at Mom, at the strange silence of all of this. It can’t be real, except it can, but I don’t want to because that’s the biggest change of all.
It’s like me, all over again, isn’t it? It’s just some new little option to be what I lack, all those things like composure and quiet and the ability to agree with people who are wrong.
“Eret,” the chief says my name like it’s ice and I freeze, “the healers said that this is very delicate. It’s…it is a miracle, there’s no other way to put it, and it’s fragile.”
“My mom isn’t fragile,” I take a step backwards, because I’m not welcome here and I know the feeling all too well. Bang doesn’t follow, he stays curled protectively around Mom’s ankles and I’m glad about that, she needs someone, but I don’t think I can do it. “I don’t know if you’ve met her but—”
“Her pregnancy is.” The chief says it like it’s a separate entity. “And…and this family, our family has a chance to grow here, and that means we need to make this as easy as possible.” He stares at me like I’m the enemy and I snort.
“Ok. I’ll help.” I turn around and leave and I’m expecting to walk but Stormfly struts slowly out of the barn, hunching slightly like she used to for me to get on when I was little. I try not to take it as a sign but Stormfly might also be against Mom being talked about as a pregnancy.
00000
Rolf lets me into the library after closing about three days after Mom’s, or hey, the chief’s, announcement. I don’t tell him why and he doesn’t ask and I don’t find anything about miraculous pregnancies that are the worst idea ever when someone already has four teenage children. Or four teenagers, one adult, and one child. There’s not much on pregnancy at all, honestly, and I get restless before I get bored.
I look at what happens to tribes without chiefs and tribes with last second, random heirs and they all dissolve into the idea of loss and failure and the fact that I’ve known this was a bad idea this entire time. I can’t shake the feeling of being replaceable and when I go home to the chief’s house and find it quiet and happy without me, I can’t shake the feeling that it’s already happened.
Mom is sitting on the bench by the fire, going over runes with Stoick and the chief gives me a sharp look from his place at the table reading a treaty. He opted to stay home again today and stuck me with about a dozen annoying little tasks he could have done in half the time because people listen to him on the first try, but I wasn’t actually annoyed by it until I see that he’s still in his night clothes.
“Sit down, relax a bit.” The chief orders. I roll my eyes and bang settles in front of the fire with a huff and a grunt, like he doesn’t think the chief’s suggestion is a bad one.
“Relaxing on command isn’t actually that relaxing.”
“I think it’s plenty relaxed around here, Hiccup,” Mom sighs at the chief with that new fondness she never used to direct at him. “You wouldn’t let me go get groceries.”
“It’s a long walk.”
“I would ride Stormfly, it would have taken five minutes.”
“I offered her to Aurelia, it’s not my fault she didn’t take her.” The chief gets up and crosses the room, bending down to kiss Mom on the top of her head like she’s a little kid or something and Mom sighs. “I’m sure she’ll be back soon. If you’re hungry before then, I could go get you something. Or Eret could!” He offers me up with another stern face like I better not ruin the illusion of operating at his beck and call and I scoff.
“I think if Mom’s hungry, she can get her own food.”
“I’m not hungry.” She points Stoick’s attention back to the book in front of him. “Are you, Eret? You normally come home and fall on dinner like a monstrous nightmare. I think there’s some fish jerky—”
“Don’t get up, I’ll find it for him.” The chief starts digging around in the cupboards by the hearth and Mom rolls her eyes in my direction, and I can’t remember the last time she made a face behind the chief’s back just for me. I smile.
“Yeah, any food you can find would be great, actually.”
“I don’t know where you put it,” Mom relaxes slightly, like somehow it’s easier for her to be waited on if someone is here calling it ridiculous along with her. “I thought you were gaining weight for a while but it’s all gone now.”
“It’s the stress—”
“Which isn’t something you need to bring home. Chief’s orders,” he shoves a bag of fish jerky into my chest with a little too much force and I don’t shift my feet. “And I think I know where all the food is going.”
“Where?”
“Your attitude.” He sounds like he does when he talks to Aureila about finally finding a dragon.
“Right.” I sit down and pull out a piece of fish, nibbling on it and discovering that I am, in fact, hungry and that wasn’t just about making the chief do something for me. “That takes energy too.”
“Energy you could save a little of right now.”
“Mom,” Stoick whines, flopping sideways and putting his head in Mom’s lap, “I don’t want to read, I want to play.”
“You can play when you’re done reading this.” She plays with his curls and I remember her teaching me and Arvid to read and how I’d always finish first and distract him until she kicked me out so he could finish. He hated reading. I hold on to the memory for a minute, that was after Fuse had knocked one of his teeth out with that fire cracker thing gone wrong and it took almost a year for the adult one to come in. I think it might have been the only individual time in our shared years that I was the better looking one.
“Outside,” the chief prompts and Stoick groans.
“Dad, it’s cold outside.”
“Mom needs quiet, bud.”
“Why?” Stoick is full on whining now, dragging out his vowels in a high pitched, nasally way. It makes him sound a bit more like the chief actually, and that makes me laugh.
“Because,” the chief looks towards Mom and she shakes her head at him, “because remember how she wasn’t feeling good? She’s not quite better yet.”
“She’s fine enough to make me read, Dad.” Stoick rolls his eyes, “and that’s not easy.”
“Then maybe you should make it easy for her.” The chief stares Stoick down until the boy sighs and starts reading again, mouthing the words slowly to himself.
“Maybe I should go check on Aurelia.” Mom stands up and stretches and the chief almost jumps out of his chair again, like she could possibly need help with that. “It’s been a while.”
“Eret can go check on her, right?”
“I mean, I could but it seems like Mom wants to.”
“But why does she need to when you can just hop on that dragon of yours and take a quick flight?” He’s so nice it’s like his words are trying to cut me open and I want to point on that Mom looks more stressed about this than about Stoick whining.
“I’d kind of like the fresh air, Hiccup—”
“There’s air in here,” the chief waves his hand around and Mom’s glare fades again to that kind of lazy fondness, like there’s no point in fighting and it’s a good thing she already likes him.
“If she’s not back soon—”
“If she’s not back soon, I’ll go check on her myself.” He offers and Mom starts tending the fire, sending Stoick back to his book when he tries to follow her and help.
Aurelia shows up not soon after, throwing her shoulder into the door to get it open and setting a small basket on the table. She’s either been flying or crying because her eyes are red and when she glares at me like she thinks I’m going to say something, I bet on the latter.
“That’s all you got?” The chief picks up the basket and pulls out a single loaf of sweet bread. “You were gone all afternoon.”
“Everything was sold out. Sorry.” She sniffs, scratching her red nose with a cold, white finger. “I don’t know why it took so long.”
“Is everything alright?” Mom herds her in front of the fire, reminding me of when I did the same thing after her fight with Arvid. I mouth that at Mom but she doesn’t see me because the chief is too busy stepping between everything.
“Everything’s great,” he puts a hand on both their shoulders, “what could be so bad that everything wouldn’t be great right now?”
“Bang could poop on the floor!” Stoick suggests and Bang shuffles over at the sound of his name, setting his chin on the open book and ending reading time once and for all.
“He’s outdoor trained, bud.” I remind him and Stoick nods.
“I’m just saying, it would make the day worse.” He raises an eyebrow at me and I concede.
“You’re right. It would.”
Aurelia still hasn’t shrugged the chief’s hand off and she’s staring at the fire as she warms her hands. I get the feeling she’s deciding something and more than that, that she probably won’t tell anyone later that she did. I’m starting to recognize the face she makes when her internal gears are spinning a mile a minute about things she’s not intending to share with me and this is like that but harder. More solid.
She looks back at Mom and if her eyes weren’t red, I never would have guessed that she came in practically crying.
“You know, I hate to say it, but maybe my dad is right. Maybe things are pretty great right now and…and it should just be about that.” She looks at Mom’s stomach, which of course doesn’t look any different, “because—”
“Because I’m feeling better,” Mom looks pointedly at Stoick and Aurelia seems to understand, nodding slowly.
“Because you’re feeling better and because this has felt more like a family around here than it ever has. And because I still get that.”
Mom looks like she wants to say something about that too but the chief hugs Aurelia, picking her up an inch off of the ground like she’d usually yell at him for, but she seems kind of frozen in some new commitment to say that things are ok. It’s the same kind of silence as when the chief gave her advice about Arvid and I can’t help but wonder if this is part of the same problem.
“There we go! That’s the kind of attitude we like around here!” He turns to me, “you should try it, Eret, being happy takes less energy than being stressed out.”
“You want me to get fat?” I put on my best offended face and pat my stomach and no one laughs, because I’m not here to make people laugh anymore. I get that feeling again that I’m extraneous here, that everyone is pivoting on someone else.
Well, everyone but Stoick, who looks kind of peeved that no one is bringing him into the group hug. I wonder why they haven’t told him.
“Let me go back to the market,” Aurelia steps away from the hug, awkwardly straightening her skirt, “I—I can do it now.”
“That’s my girl,” the chief says like he wants to compliment her and slap me at the same time and it’s never been that direction before.
“I’ll go with you,” I stand up, leaving the crumbs in the fish jerky bag on the table, “and help carry.”
“That’s marginally better,” the chief shrugs and Mom glares at him.
“Hiccup—”
“I’ll read with Stoick, you should go take a nap or something. You never get to do that,” he starts herding Mom towards the bedroom as Aurelia grabs the basket off of the table, leaving the bread.
“I never want to—”
“Are you coming?” Aurelia walks out without waiting for me and I jog after her, Bang barely scraping through the door behind me and giving me a dirty look.
“I thought you’d want to play with Stoick,” I mutter at him and he nips my boot. “Hey—and can you slow down?” I have to run a few steps to catch up to her again, which is impressive given our respective heights.
“Mom needs things.”
“I think what Mom needs is for the chief to leave her alone for five minutes—”
“The healers said that this is a fragile time, we have to keep her as comfortable as possible.” She glares at me but also looks like she’s on the verge of crying again and I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to turn her towards me. She shrugs it off.
“Hey, what’s wrong? You look upset—”
“It’s nothing. It’s stupid.” She shakes her head, “there are bigger things going on. My dad is right.”
“Bigger than what?”
“Just a…” she sighs, “just another dumb fight. It’s fine. Everything is fine.”
“With Arvid?”
“What’s got you so convinced it’s your business?” She snaps at me, her sharp tone dulled by some general sogginess in her voice.
“I don’t know, you’re both my siblings so I’m right there in the mix of that business. As you know.”
“That should make it less your business,” she nods to herself and starts walking again, eyes bright with determination in some direction I don’t understand. “And it doesn’t matter. Mom’s going to have a baby, that’s—it’s amazing.”
“Yeah, we just apparently have to sit in a silent house being happy for…however long it takes for a baby to…occur.” I frown, “I know nothing about babies. Shouldn’t Mom be…um, expanding or—”
“It takes time,” she looks at me like I’m the dumbest person in Midgard and I remember she was there for her mom being pregnant with Stoick, “and if it makes it less stressful, I don’t mind. It’s what we have to do.”
“Did I hit my head and wake up in an alternate universe?” I laugh and it doesn’t seem to reach her ears. It kind of seems like I might as not be here at all, like she’s already favoring the one who hasn’t talked back to her yet. “You’re willing to fake happy to make your dad happy—”
“It’s not fake, I’m completely joyful.” She spits, “and it’s not for him, it’s…it’s for family. It’s one of those things you’re supposed to do for family.”
“You seem to know a lot about family all of a sudden.” Now that she’s latched on to most of the leftover broken bits of mine.
I don’t say it, but when she glares at me I wish I would have.
“I don’t actually need your help to do this if you’re just going to bug me.”
“I didn’t realize I was bugging you.”
“Well, you are.” She stares at me for a second. “This should probably be a stress-less zone too, if we’re going to help Mom with everything she needs.”
“I didn’t realize me talking to you was inherently stressful.”
“Well…it is. Right now.” Her lip trembles and I think something else is going to come out, like she’s going to tell me what’s actually upsetting her. “So if you’re going to keep bugging me…”
“That’s…” I sigh, “that’s a shockingly polite way of asking me to leave you alone. Congrats on your new leaf and the magical transformative power of…the chief and my mom overwriting all their previous mistakes.” I climb onto Bang and take off.
I never thought I’d see the day where Aurelia would rather do a favor for the chief than talk to me, but hey, he’s winning everyone over lately and no one seems to want the dinged up copy when the real thing is right there.
00000
I hate how many versions of me exist simultaneously, even on one small island. There’s all of the people I’m not anymore. The clueless eight-year-old that burned down the forge and unknowingly forced myself into hiding. There’s the equally clueless fourteen-year-old that followed Aurelia around like a lost dragon and gained the pity of everyone with eyes and a thirty-year memory. There’s the sixteen year old who threw tantrums and yelled and fought Arvid, the one who everyone treated as a risky decision.
There’s the version of me at home right now, the quiet one Aurelia won’t stop glaring at while bringing Mom tea like I’m endangering the chief’s last chance at happiness by not being thrilled about it. There’s the version of me that I am right now, the one that no one questioned asking for help all day even though there’s nothing official in place that says they can do that. They trust me and I don’t know why, I don’t know why they let me into their houses to check on their babies or dragons or foundations when there are all those other clueless, little me’s running around.
Not to mention the version of me that isn’t even born yet, the one everyone’s already aiming away from my mistakes. Especially the ones like calling the wrong person Dad and thinking what people told me was true.
I wonder if a version of me even exists in Dad’s head anymore, or if that’s dead and quiet like all the others aren’t allowed to be.
I’m just finishing up with Darren Thorston, deciding how to patch the academy wall after last week’s monstrous nightmare training incident, when Gobber approaches me, leaning heavier than usual on his cane. Grump isn’t with him and I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut.
“You couldn’t fly over here?”
“None of your business how I hunt you down, laddie,” he rubs his back with the side of his hammer hand though, leaving a sooty streak on his shirt like he just came from the forge, “plus, I was looking for Hiccup but as always, you’re worse at hiding out.”
“That’s because I’m not hiding out,” I hold my hand above my head, “and probably because I’m taller, or something. But what’s up?”
“We’ve got a problem, that’s what’s up. I didn’t chase you down just to chat, come with me,” he waves me after him and I look back to make sure Bang is following us and not staying around the academy to keep begging students for treats. There still haven’t been enough dragons for the older kids to choose theirs and anywhere there’s children, I swear Bang gets mobbed before I can say ‘fish jerky’.
“We could fly, you know.”
“Not everything’s the same from the air,” Gobber turns abruptly and I follow him to the edge of the stream that cuts around the edge of town. “Like this.”
“It’s a stream.”
“Look at it,” he points down, unimpressed with me.
“It’s water, I’m looking at water,” I crouch down anyway, sure that Gobber wouldn’t be so cryptic if it weren’t important enough for me to figure out. “Wait…” I inhale and squint at the current, finally spying wisps of what looks like ash swirling and taking responsibility for the vague, sulfurous smell. “What’s going on with it? It’s full of ash.”
“The snowmelt’s collecting ash from the fire last year and it’s all getting dumped in the drinking water. Doesn’t taste too good and when Smitelout plunged some hot metal into it this morning it flared up like one of Fuse’s concoctions, must have been some dragon leavings in with that ash.”
“So the water is…flammable.” I blink at him, standing up and looking back down at the stream. “Am I hearing you right?”
“Given the whole village isn’t on fire, I’d say that part of the water is flammable, part of the time.” He shrugs, “I figured you’d want to know.”
“Why would I want to know?” I gesture back at the academy, “I’m supposed to be getting Darren Thorston approval to take extra wood from the wood pile to patch a whole academy wall, why is the stupid creek my problem?”
Bang splashes a few feet upstream of us and abruptly gags, that morning’s fish glugging into the water.
“You still drink water, don’t you?” Gobber raises a long, white eyebrow and I barely resist the urge to stomp my foot.
“On occasion.” I sigh, rubbing my temple and trying to think through this problem on top of all of the others. “What should I do about it?”
“That’s not my job.” He shrugs, “I’ve got to go console Smitelout about her eyebrows. I keep telling her there was always supposed to be two but she’s mourning the middle.” He starts walking away like he actually means to just leave me with water that makes Bang, of all steel gut dragons, puke, and I follow him.
“Do you have any advice?” I stuff my hands in my pockets, “and before you say ‘ask the chief’ he’s been really busy lately so—”
“I heard.” Gobber nods, “that’s a bit of luck there.”
“Yeah. Great luck.” I mutter under my breath, “or so I keep hearing.”
“With those two, it’s always just luck to start with. Honestly it’s never good or bad until the body count and list of damages comes in.”
“Yes, the common knowledge of my actual parents’ shared and complex history, I get it, it’s all so poetic.” I almost tell Gobber about that nagging feeling that they’re happy they aren’t stuck with just me anymore, that it’s not just a pregnancy, it’s a chance to get a better version of me next time, one without so many nurtured flaws. But to be entirely honest, I don’t for the exact same reason I haven’t told Fuse about it, I don’t want real advice, I don’t want anyone to tell me I’m whiny or wrong or self-centered. I already get that whenever Aurelia stares daggers at me from across the room. “Does anyone else know about the partially, occasionally flammable water?”
“Not that I know of,” Gobber shrugs, “I’d talk to Sven, he’s in charge of the dams around the village, he might be able to help you out.”
“So I just go…find Sven and he’ll handle it?”
“It’s a place to start, at least.” He points East, “last I saw him he was using some of the rubble from the wood pile for something.”
“That’s…so specific. Thanks, Gobber.” I start climbing onto Bang and pause for a second, “tell Smitelout I said her two eyebrows probably look really dainty, alright?”
“I’ll pass along the message because you can’t pick enough fights on your own, apparently.” He shakes his head, waving me off as Bang soars upwards, just high enough to ride the lower current over the island.
No one told me how much being chief is like playing tug of war with a group of terrors. It’s not that any individual is very smart or strong or crafty, but eventually they pile up on you and start nipping at ankles and you lose which direction you were supposed to be tugging. I’ve tried to go home four times today, each time just to be spotted and called into another conversation about the chief’s absence and what he promised them and how if it didn’t get fixed today, something catastrophic would happen.
And now this problem is coming out of nowhere and I tell myself that if I don’t see Sven where Gobber suggested, I’m actually going to turn around and go look for the chief. He should have to deal with some of this, it’s not like I actually know what I’m doing. I spend a few minutes scanning the coast where Fuse sent those boulders toppling down the cliff and when I see no sign of man or dragon, I turn and fly back up to the chief’s house, landing outside and hopping off.
Everyone but Stoick is sitting around inside, of course, Mom with her feet on the chief’s lap and looking picked on while the chief and Aurelia are actually laughing about what appears to be the same thing. They stop laughing when they see me and of course, it was probably some shared version of me that did something stupid one time that they both happened to witness.
Glad I can bring the family closer together.
“Hey, Eret, what’s up?”
“Nothing much,” I sit down at the table, drumming my fingers on the wooden table top, “just…stuff coming up. All over. All day.”
“I’m sure you handled it,” the chief looks halfway confident in that and Aurelia just has to take the chance to roll her eyes.
“Most of it, yeah,” I shrug, “Gobber did just tell me something I have no idea what to do with though.”
“Yeah?” The chief asks even though he’s obviously already checked out of the conversation and I clear my throat.
“The snowmelt is picking up some nasty stuff from the plane where the forest fire was last year. Smitelout quenched something in some of the water and it caught on fire.” I explain as succinctly as I can and only get Aurelia’s and some of the chief’s attention. “And it made Bang throw up, so I don’t think it’s a small deal.”
“The water caught on fire?” Mom snorts, “have you asked Fuse about it?”
“What? No,” I shake my head, “Gobber showed it to me and told me to find Sven because he might know what to do, but I couldn’t find him so I came here to tell the chief.”
“You didn’t tell anyone else?” Aurelia raises her eyebrow, “there’s exploding water down there with all the dragons and you didn’t tell anyone?”
“Right, all the dragons—”
“That’s not helpful, Eret.” The chief half snaps, more dismissive than actually angry and I hate it more than when he kissed up to me all the time. Back when I was someone he thought was worth kissing up to.
“And Mom’s right, you should have asked Fuse. She’s gone this long without setting anyone on fire, if anyone could put out a flammable stream, it’s her.” She’s combative but sure of herself and I stare at her, wishing it didn’t have to be against me.
Now, I’m the backup again and when he looks at Aurelia with a rare thoughtful expression, I feel like co-backup.
“What?” She shifts, uncomfortable with him looking at her with something other than disappointment, evidently, and flushes slightly. “Do I have something on my face?”
“You’re right,” the chief sounds shocked even as he says it, “this is something to put Fuse on. Could you go talk to her?”
“Me?” Aurelia stands up so quickly she trips over her own toe, setting her hand on her chest like it’s not clear who he’s talking to.
“I can go, chief.” I offer mostly to undo my frankly idiotic mistake of coming back here when I could be flying around looking for someone who doesn’t expect anything but chiefly from me.
“You seemed to think you needed a break,” the chief blinks at me slowly, a silent challenge that I know I can’t take him up on because of the healers’ stress comment. And it hits me that it doesn’t stress Mom out anymore for me to feel ignored.
“I didn’t say that—”
“You said you’d been doing everything all day and all over,” he looks back at Mom like I’m not even here and it was hard enough to watch when they thought they had something to be embarrassed about, “and if Bang threw up, he probably doesn’t need to be flying around.”
“Fine.” I stand up and brush my hands off on my pants like they have something gross on them just from being here, “I’ll go pick Stoick up then, he should be done soon.”
“Thank you,” the chief practically sing-songs, all that worry for Bang gone the instant I’m not currently annoying him. I barely resist the urge to give him a rude gesture over my shoulder, even though that’s the impression of myself I’d really like to leave behind right now.
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