Who: Hakkon and Samandriel What: Wellness Check Where: Hakkon's cave then Samandriel's place When: Saturday Status: Completed
Imhar had a point, not that Hakkon was too eager to admit it. He had a home waiting for him and there he was squatting in a cave. It was a comfortable cave, though. It had everything anyone needed to enjoy themselves, kegs and furs and weapons on the walls. But it was still a cave and he wasn’t supposed to be living there.
Hakkon waited to finish his packing up, deciding it was best for the little ‘muse’ to come to the cave instead of making have to search for his home. He wasn’t entirely sure how well Samandriel was and wanted to spare him as much effort as he could. The cooking pot and his kegs were gone, as was everything that had been on the walls, leaving the furniture and the furs. He was about to will away the furs when he heard a strange sound and he turned to see the ‘muse’. “There you are.”
It was the sound of wings that heralded Samandriel’s appearance. Massive wings that he kept tucked away out of sight to protect anyone from looking too closely at how they were healing. It was patchy at best, colour coming back in places slowly, but his Grace held its own and that was all he needed.
“You’re leaving your cave?” he asked, though that was very obvious. Sad, though. Hakkon seemed to like it there.
“Yes, I have a home with the other lowlanders I’ve been neglecting. I came here to stay close to my brother and it seems like he’s embracing life here as a mostly normal man, so I want to try and make it easier for him.” He took in the state of the being before him, his wings and everything under his skin. “I’ll be a new adventure for me. But in any case, you look much better. Your glow is brighter.”
“Silence helped,” Samandriel said softly. “He always does, even if a fractured world means that this brother isn’t the brother I knew and carries a weight around his neck he was never meant to.” He smiled a little at Hakkon, warm despite the cold he radiated. “It seemed… I couldn’t decide what kind of anything to bring you. My mind… I start thinking and it spins itself up and up and up and branches off into possibilities and nothing gets done. So I brought you me. For now. I hope that isn’t an insult.”
“Brought me you?” He repeated, tilting his head a little. “You mean for a visit, as it does ease my mind to see that you are well? Or were you thinking something else?” He’d been given servants and attendants before, he hadn’t minded them. A few gave him their bodies, either to inhabit or to enjoy, but as far as he was concerned, that didn’t seem to be what the ‘muse’ was after.
Samandriel blinked a couple times and blushed a little, gaze dropping towards his feet. He wouldn’t say no to something else. His auxiliary purpose kept him from being ashamed or afraid of that sort of thing the way so many of his siblings were. “Samandriel,” he said instead. “My name is Samandriel.”
“Samandriel. That’s a lovely name.” The blush was sweet too, he tried not to be smug about the fact that Samandriel was much more interested than he first thought. “Are you really a muse? I’m sure you’re inspiring, but you don’t exactly look or act like one.” He’d had to look it up and nothing he found seemed like Samandriel.
“It was the closest equivalent I could come up with in the state I was in,” he said. “It… I didn’t know if I could trust you to help or hurt.” He looked over at the furs. “May I?” He wasn’t sure standing was a good idea for too long.
He motioned toward the furs and furniture, “By all means, make yourself comfortable. Is there anything I can offer you?” He didn’t often have houses or guests, he tended to travel between clans when he walked among his people, but he knew what was proper and what would have pleased his parents.
“You have given a great deal already,” Samandriel said, settling into the furs. It smelled right in there, felt safe and away from everything. Good. It was good.
“Hosts are supposed to look after their guests, offer them drink and nourishment. It pleases all.” He said, like it explained his kindness. Hakkon went to sit near to Samandriel, making sure to sit level with him, or rather as level as his tall frame could manage.
“I was set over Imagination itself and one of many set over Fertility,” he explained, though his function was usually that of a fertile mind than anything. Sometimes the moment demanded differently of him. “I don’t need food or drink, thank you. You were...kind and concerned and...safe.” And most importantly not related to him either through Heaven or Hell. Too much. He knew too much. Had seen too much. He had to get himself back on track.
“So are you a god as I am, or are you something else?” He knew his brother would rather he keep a secret of his godhood, but he felt he’d been obvious with him before and it was too late to try to get that cat back into the bag.
“Somewhat else,” he said, not sure how to explain angels to someone who didn’t know what angels were.
“Alright.” He rested his hands on his thighs, doing his best not to poke and prod too much since Samandriel had been through something that was obviously traumatic. “You’re different. You’re special.”
Special? Not at all. Alone and scared and full of… too much. He knew too much. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to say after you’ve been caught out at something?” he asked. He could practically feel Hakkon’s tendons twitching.
“I don’t, not generally.” He smirked a little at that. It never mattered when Hakkon was caught at something, it wasn’t as if anyone could or was interested in stopping him if he wanted something. “It’s what you say when you’re trying to understand someone from an entirely different culture and world to your own.”
“I thought it was mostly used when one partner found out you’d been bedding others, but to each their own.” He looked over at Hakkon. “I spent several days sleeping on or near you,” he said softly, “You don’t have to worry so much about your manners.”
“So we shouldn’t be kindest to those we’re closest to?” He lightly teased. “Though I will admit my hospitality and consideration might have been lacking while I was a bear. You’ll have to forgive me for that, and the smell.”
“You smelled like a bear,” he said, shifting on the furs to get a bit more comfortable. Hakkon was better when he wasn’t so...stiff. “I don’t think there’s anything to apologise for.”
He snorted softly, “Good, because as much as my bear enjoys swimming and being pampered, that smell is never coming out, of me or anything I’m close to. I’ll be honest though, it’s much less noticeable where I’m from.”
“It could,” Samandriel said. “If you wanted it to. I could…”
He waved a hand, “I’ve never minded it. There are worse things to smell like after all. But I do appreciate the offer.”
Samandriel nodded. He looked at the darkness in the cave, the light offered by the fire casting a warm glow in places and intensifying the shadows in others. “I used to paint sunrises,” he whispered, trembling just subtly as he focused enough to fill the cave with colours. He could feel the break in himself still. He probably would for a long time. This was a good gift for a god who’d helped him, though, better than meat and mead he could make on his own. “Used to dye the sky at sunset. Never the same one twice. It’d be boring if it was all the same. Unimaginative. Against what I am.” The break splintered along his Grace. Not getting bigger, just making him more aware of it, of the map it made. Like lightning or tree roots or veins. Fractals that shone with pain if Samandriel let anyone see.
When the colors started Hakkon laid back and looked up at them as they played along the walls and ceiling. They were a lovely sight and he appreciated them, reminding him a little of home and how he would often climb atop a roof or mountain to watch the lights in the south. They had been his mother’s lights then, but he found seeing these now didn’t remind him much of her, instead he thought of the people he often brought with him to watch them. “So you were involved in creation.” He said, doing him the respect of looking at the lights instead of the cracks in the glowing thing under his skin. “Was it just sunset?”
Samandriel could feel the tremble in him increasing, could see the brightness he was making shifting dark and fearful on the edges so he carefully let it go, accidentally extinguishing the fire with it. He shook even once he released it. Shook too much. Extended himself too much. “Not creation,” he said, “I never had the power to create more than little things comparatively.” That was for angels stronger than him, for Michael and Lucifer. Their jobs. Not his. “Ideas. Responsible for humans creating things. Those were my blessings, my gifts. Whispers. Beautiful things while I was allowed.”
Hakkon slowly sat up again and offered his hand, letting Samandriel use him to ground himself or take a little of his strength if he needed it. “Which is why you said you were a muse, I see now. That does make sense.”
He looked at Hakkon’s hand and let himself take it. No threat. Hakkon had the strength to do him great harm, but he wouldn’t. He trusted that. He had to trust that. He couldn’t stop himself from shaking though. The shattered bits of himself wouldn’t let him. The lightning kept running its course. “Yes,” he said.
“I would like to do more for you, but I’m not sure I can.” He admitted, gently squeezing Samandriel’s hand, offering him what strength he could. It mostly went to his physical form, which clearly didn’t need the reinforcement, but might help contain him better and make him more comfortable.
“Can I be close?” he asked. “Not with the bear. With you.” Not that there was a distinction much at all between Hakkon and the bear.
Hakkon nodded and moved himself closer to Samandriel, stopping when their thighs were touching and he could wrap an arm around his shoulders. “I may not snuggle as well when I am not a bear, but I will certainly try to oblige.”
“You will,” he said and found himself following that strength, that pull that firmness and protection and into Hakkon’s lap. He pressed his forehead to Hakkon’s, trying to focus on him to center himself. The pulse of his heart, the steadiness of his breathing, the strength in every inch of him.
He let his eyes close while Samandriel sat there, willingly giving him whatever part of himself would be helpful. This creature in his lap was broken and Hakkon knew too well what happened when the broken were left to themselves. He might have had brothers there, as he said, but like with his own brother, it was likely he needed something more.
“I was taken,” he whispered, “by a demon. The demon. The King of Hell after my oldest brothers got locked in a cage.” And that was a story that Hakkon didn’t need yet especially as this Michael wasn’t his Michael (though was Michael all the same.) “My gift… At the start, I told myself he would’ve gladly taken any angel and carved them apart like he was me, that he hadn’t been glad to find the opportunity to turn neutral territory hostile to take me. But time...all that time went on and I realized that he wanted me in particular. ‘Cause if he got all the secrets he wanted, got all the things even I didn’t know I had written in me, there was a chance I’d survive long enough to give it all to him. Because I was Made to be able to Imagine anything and the Truth wouldn’t break me like it could someone else.”
Hakkon listened, keeping his eyes closed in hopes of this all being easier for Samandriel. It was easier to talk when you didn’t have to meet the person’s eyes, he knew that well enough. When there was a break he felt it safe to ask questions. “And how did you break free of this demon?”
“The building he kept me in was warded,” Samandriel said, “hidden from both Heaven and Hell. Mostly Heaven, but he didn’t want his own kind knowing what he had either. At some point the pain got...got so intense that I manifested in shrubbery.” He shook his head to try to clear the thoughts. “I broke through the wards enough to ignite and speak through a bush. Someone happened to hear me, I think. I don’t know exactly. I know...I know two hunters came with one of my brothers.” That hurt deep in him wanted to scream out into the night, but he kept it locked tightly up as he tried to force the memory of it all back. “They freed me. My brother got me out while they fought and...and then Heaven commanded him to kill me.”
“And you fled here.” Hakkon supplied, connecting the obvious dots. “I’m sure that must have been very traumatic for you.” That seemed like the wise thing to say, if he had to say anything at all. He certainly didn’t have the power to make it all better for him and he was well aware of that.
“And you found me,” Samandriel whispered. “At the end of my strength and aching for a death of my own choosing. If I had the strength, I probably would’ve fought you like some feral beast backed into a corner. All teeth and fear and spittle.”
“You may be a tiny thing, or rather a massive thing wrapped in a tiny thing, but I sense that wouldn’t have gone well for either of us.” He was fairly certain he could have killed him, but it would have been a fight that wouldn’t have been easy to walk away from. He finally opened his eyes, “Hopefully you are feeling better now.”
“I’m a small thing,” he said. “For my kind. The smallest of the Seraphim. Just barely enough me to be one. The brothers I have here...they’re all much more massive.” Later, he’d explain the hierarchy of angels if Hakkon cared. Not now. In the dark and quiet of the cave, Samandriel kissed Hakkon’s lips just chastely.
“Seraphim.” He repeated so he could remember to look that up later. He didn’t fight the kiss that came, he even reached up to gently cup his cheek and kept it there when Samandriel pulled back. “You are a sweet thing. A sweet thing that still feels so weak and wounded no matter how well the flesh that holds you is put back together. Later, when you are yourself, I will happily give you the physical comfort you seek.”
“It’s distraction too,” he said, “distraction and comfort and healing on its own.” Samandriel rested his head on Hakkon’s shoulder instead. “It might take thousands upon thousands of years for me to be myself again. Some breaks never heal clean.”
“I have the time.” He said, gently rubbing Samandriel’s back. “I have lived several thousand years, another won’t hurt me. But rushing into things and doing you harm just might. I was not just being nice before. It does me well to see you well.”
He frowned a little. He was sure somewhere there’d be a way to pay for the companionship he needed if Hakkon couldn’t help. “Rushing into things?”
“I’ve known you for only a short time and you were injured. Putting my hands on you in that way before you’ve had some time, it would be taking advantage of you and I don’t wish to do that.” He might have been of the Avvar, and looked wild, but the men of the mountains were very black and white in their views of consent.
“You’re wrong, but I respect your decision,” Samandriel said. “Do you want me to move?”
“Only if you want to.” He said, drawing imaginary patterns on Samandriel’s back as he held him. He was warm and not nearly as boney as he looked. “I don’t mind you here.”
The angel shivered a little, liking the contact through his shirt more than he could say. “Rushing into things makes it sound like you think there’s something more to be rushed into,” he heard himself say against the god’s skin.
“I don’t believe in limiting myself to one person or one sort of relationship, I am open to most things, as long as they are healthy. I like to keep my options open. If there is more to you and I then there might be more, but I have nothing set in my mind and I don’t have any expectations of you or your desires.” He assured him.
“I have rarely known gods to be prone to monogamy,” he said. “But much of Heaven is...abstinent. Wracked with guilt over such things. Shamed away from it. And all of Heaven is...forbidden to lay with humans.” He did not think his brothers could or would help him in this way either and his options were very much limited if he chose to buy time with someone.
“Why is it forbidden? Is there fears of interbreeding? If they are that raises a lot of questions about just where you reside in your bodies, and the connections you all have with them.” It was different with his family, he was half sure that Imhar had a godly parent but he couldn’t really remember. None of his children had become gods, though they did occasionally have special gifts.
“Not fears. There is interbreeding, but the children of angels and humans are neither angelic nor human and those On High have declared them abominations.” Whether Samandriel agreed with that or not, he hadn’t decided. Mostly, he didn’t care much. He shifted a little in Hakkon’s lap. “You’re warm today.”
That all seemed insane to him, and perhaps their way of keeping control of those that were like Samandriel. He wouldn’t comment though, not until he knew more. “I may be the god of winter, but I am always warm.”
“For someone who is master of the two bitter colds of frost and steel, you feel like neither,” he said. “The warriors I know have… They don’t know when to recognize a time to set down their blades.” The Winchesters were like that. His brothers, most of them, the more martial ones especially, were like that or made others like that.
“I’m kind when I choose to be.” Hakkon admitted. “It feels like yesterday that I was a dragon, soaring through the sky and covering the land in ice and death simply because I knew I could. I had no kindness or mercy then, I could not even hear the prayers of my people. But as bitter and harsh as winter can be, there is still beauty and there is life. I understand my function, I know the pain and need my people felt, being heartless with them would have not served them well. And I like to think I serve my people joyfully, otherwise I would go mad.”
“There are moments where you sound like you’ve given an eye and gained so much more than you lost.” Not Odin. Not at all. Not the same, but close enough to the son. One day he’d tell those stories if it became his place to. Stories he could do. Wrapped up in hyperbole and violet he could do. Maybe. One day. “I should go soon.” He didn’t move.
“I’m not sure I understand that reference.” Because it obviously was one, as far as he could tell. “But I have gained some wisdom, even if some tend to think me foolish and short-sighted. My people, walking among them and living with them, fighting beside them, they granted me more wisdom than I ever could have imagined.” And with their help he became better on the battlefield, though he wasn’t about to admit that. “And, of course, you are welcome to stay as long as you like, all I have to do today is move to my proper house. That may not be the most entertaining time for you.”
“It’s a good cave,” Samandriel said. “I’ll miss it.”
“I didn’t create the cave, so it will always be here, even when I am not.” He lifted his head a little, looking about the place once more. “I am sure I will come back, especially when I am a bear. And it will be here for you, if you need a quiet place to rest. Of course, my place could be that for you as well.”
“It will be a different cave with all the you pulled out of it,” the angel clarified while he considered the near offer. He didn’t know how to properly read the dance Hakkon was doing. He wasn’t sure they even heard the same music. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” The cave felt like a sanctuary with Hakkon in it. A liminal space that was almost theirs in a way a cave that carried the ghost of them couldn’t properly be.
“I’m sure my new home will be much the same, just closer to people, and possibly self-heated and cooled. But you are always welcome to come visit me. I would enjoy seeing you more often. I like your glow, now that it is a little brighter.” He looked down at Samandriel, smiling a little.
He knew it was a compliment, that Hakkon was trying, but still he dimmed somewhat under it, pulling tighter in on himself. “It’s rude to look.” Some beings couldn’t help it, but to be looked at so directly…
“Would you have me blind when we are together? I see you without looking deeply, both the flesh that contains you and you yourself. But if it makes you uncomfortable I will keep my eyes shut for you.” Hakkon offered.
The silence hung heavy over him for several moments as he mulled over his answer. “You worry about the closeness doing more harm than good, but the being Seen hurts more than any of that. It puts pressure to heal faster than I can, to pretend I’m okay so that no one frets or gives special treatment. The only beings who look at an angel so casually are demons or other angels and I would rather be seen by neither.” He didn’t know how better to explain it. His presence might be a Known thing amongst his brothers now, but even still he wanted to hide himself. “It’s very intimate.”
“I apologize, I should have known, given your reactions before. I will do my best to keep my eyes to myself in future, until I have earned that level of intimacy.” Samandriel seemed eager for it, at least physically. But it would come, one didn’t need to see the future to know.
“Come back with me,” he said. “So you know where to find me too.”
“Will I be meeting your brothers or will it just be us?” He asked, wanting to be sure he behaved himself if he was going to be meeting Samandriel’s family.
“Just us,” he said. “If that… if that’s okay with you.” He wanted to get comfortable enough with Hakkon where he didn’t feel so exposed just being looked at.
“It’s a bit of a relief, honestly.” He said, gently lifting Samandriel off his lap so they could both get up onto their feet. “I’m not sure I could manage not to see more than you in a room at a time, and I wouldn’t want to insult them.”
Samandriel flew them elsewhere before Hakkon could finish moving them anywhere though not before he finished speaking. “Am I that distracting?” he asked, finding himself on his back in his living room.
He hadn’t been prepared for that and took a second to steady himself before he looked about the place. It was clean and warm, nicer than most lowlander homes he had ever seen. He was glad for Samandriel, he deserved nice surroundings as he healed. “I wouldn’t say distracting, I would say I couldn’t manage more than one of you at a time. This is a nice home, a good home.”
“Ah,” he said quietly, registering Hakkon’s lack of real interest properly. They were high up. Samandriel liked that they were high up. As high up as anything really got in the city. “Thank you.”
“I don’t get to see many beings like you. I’d be afraid that I would stare.” He went to the window, appreciating that Samandriel’s home was up high. It suited him and it likely suited Samandriel’s wings. “Are the rest as beautiful as you are?”
“More,” he said, watching Hakkon watch the world outside. “They’re not… They’re not damaged the same way.” He finally got up, going into his bedroom to change his clothes and try to get the smell of Hakkon off of him.
He was respectful enough not to follow without an invitation. “I find it hard to believe that they could be, but I suppose I have to take your word for it.” He called to him, looking back through the room now that he didn’t run the risk of catching sight of Samandriel.
Frowning a little, Samandriel came out, shirt in hands as he looked at his guest. “What do you mean?”
“That they were more beautiful than you are, I find it unlikely. And I’m sorry I keep talking about it,” he glanced in the direction of Samandriel before making himself look down so as not to see his true form. “You may be injured, but you are still captivating. I don’t imagine the others could be, even if they were completely untouched.”
He didn’t like Hakkon looking down like that. Somehow it felt worse than being looked at. He didn’t like being conflicted like that. “You want me,” he whispered, “but you won’t let me consent.”
“I worry about what will happen when you’re feeling better, that you may start to think that I took advantage of you in your weakened state. I don’t want to be a source of regret or unpleasantness for you when you’re feeling less vulnerable than you are now.” Hakkon admitted.
“You won’t be,” the seraph said. “Physical closeness isn’t something I regret.”
He smiled a little at that, knowing well it wouldn’t be the physical part that brought him pain, if there was to be pain. “Just humor me, for a little while longer, at least. I promise I will make your patience worth it.”
“The isolation is the worst part,” he said, “Everyone trying to be so so careful. It just leaves me feeling...feeling more alone, more trapped in my own skin.” He respected his decision. He wasn’t trying to do anything more than- than help Hakkon understand.
“Then come over here and let me help you feel a little less alone.” He opened his arms to him, doing his best to only look at the body that held Samandriel instead of what was inside it.
He looked at Hakkon, watching him for a moment before he found himself in those arms.
Once his arms were properly wrapped around Samandriel and they’d taken a moment or two to just enjoy being close to each other, Hakkon spoke softly, “You clearly have people here who care a great deal about you. If they care about you as much as I think, they could probably stand to hear that you don’t feel so fragile, don’t let their love become an annoyance that festers into resentment.”
“It’s not as simple as that,” he said, but there wasn’t a way to explain it properly. “Do you want me to take you home?” Back to the cave. While he could still make the trip.
“That’s alright, I know where home is and I can find my way back.” He moved his hands to Samandriel’s shoulders then slowly dragged them down the length of his arms before giving them a gentle squeeze. With that, and a light kiss to his forehead, Hakkon pulled away. “I’m glad I got to see you, Samandriel.”
He didn’t want- He- He could feel himself crying. He looked away. “Alright,” he said. “I’m...I’m glad to have seen you too.” Not staying, then. “Don’t… Don’t be a stranger.”
Hakkon frowned a little but it had seemed clear to him that Samandriel was ready for him to leave. “I don’t technically require sleep, if you get lonely at any point during the day, feel free to message me. I’ve grown very fond of the functions of my magic box.” He smirked a little, his hand finally on the door.
“Stay,” Samandriel heard himself say almost desperately. “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave. Please, I’m sorry. I’ll be better. I’m sorry.”
His head tilted a little, “I thought you wanted me to leave.” He took his hand from the door and came back to wipe away whatever tears had landed on Samandriel’s cheeks by then. “I’ll stay. I’ll stay as long as you’d like.”
“I thought you wanted to leave.” He closed his eyes and tried to bask in Hakkon’s care. “I thought I was getting too hard not to look at.”
“It is hard to ignore the glow, but I’m not some man who falls apart so easily. I am a god, I can do it for as long as you need it to feel comfortable.” He assured him, kissing the top of his head after pulling him into a proper hug.
“I don’t understand why you’re so kind to me,” he said softly. “I don’t… I don’t understand you.”
“Once you get past the dragon, and then the bear, and the man who is as tall as a bedsheet, there is kindness there, way down deep. Under the muscle.” He never thought of himself as particularly hard to understand, though he was sure it was the difference in their cultures that was harder for Samandriel.
He kissed Hakkon’s chest. “Bed sheets come in vastly different sizes,” he said softly. He tugged Hakkon along with him. “Back this way.” The mattress was on the floor. He didn’t care. It felt more like a nest, felt safe and good and like nothing could hide under him to hurt him in shadows that didn’t exist. “Easier not to look in the dark, behind wards.”
He let Samandriel lead him, “Mine are a tall people, so whatever the largest bed sheet here is then that is what I am.” He let his heavy boots vanish when they crossed into his bedroom, not wanting to risk tracking anything on his bedding, even if he was sure nothing had been on them.
Things went quiet as he crossed the threshold into the room. Good. Peaceful. Better now that he could shut out the world completely. No demons. He hid enough from his brothers while being off the grid. Warding wasn’t needed against them. Sounds. Loud noises from the rest of the building. The swaying of the building in the wind. He pulled his socks off. “Maybe this just makes it harder to focus on something other than me.”
“If I get on my back and you lay at my side, I shouldn’t be able to stare much at you that way.” He said, getting down onto the nest of a mattress, letting himself sink into it. He wasn’t much for being completely alone, but he could understand why someone with a personality like Samandriel’s needed a quiet room.
“I still think you’re bad at resisting temptation,” Samandriel said, but laid down next to Hakkon anyway, curling up against his side.
“I am the very picture of strength, thank you very much.” He teased a little, smirking to himself. “But I can blind myself temporarily if I absolutely have to. Let’s try to have a little faith in me first.”
Samandriel kissed his collarbone. “You’re not seeing me with those eyes anyway.”
“Shhh,” he lightly ruffled Samandriel’s hair. “Don’t think too much about this, little one. Just enjoy the quiet and the dark and how comfortable this is.”
“Will you tell me about the things you like?” he asked, trying to get himself to relax into those massive arms.
“You mean generally or are you looking for something specific? Because we could be here all day. I was once cursed for whining when I was young, everytime I didn’t like something I had to say two things that I liked. Eventually I ran out of things to dislike, and while the curse was lifted I do try to lean into liking things more than disliking them.” Hakkon admitted.
“I don’t mind being here all day,” he said. “Or all year.”
“I will have to introduce you to my brother, maybe you can teach him that spending time with me isn’t so awful.” He smirked to himself before he cleared his throat. “Anyway. I like full moons over snow. Fatty meat that has crispy sections of fat. I love flying and running. Swimming can be fun too, but usually as a bear.”
Of course they’d be little things. Nothing grand and poetic, just simple quiet things that Hakkon enjoyed. It was nice. It was very, very nice. He liked the rich, deep sound of his voice, the feel of it vibrating through his chest as he spoke and kept his gaze upward to give Samandriel his privacy. “Because you like shaking your fur out over at everyone?” he asked.
“Bears are excellent swimmers. And they can go for ages without getting tired. They’ve got that paddle that feels very natural. It’s easier to feel playful while swimming as a bear.” He admitted, his fingers tracing over Samandriel’s shoulder as they laid together. “Sometimes it was fun to shake too.”
“You’re a god,” Samandriel pointed out, shivering a little bit under those gentle touches. “I don’t imagine you’d tire quickly as it is.”
“I don’t, but when it comes to swimming the bear form lasts longer.” After it left his lips he paused a moment to consider what he said. “Well, you know what I mean. It’s easier- Nope. I’m just letting that one go.”
“Do I know what you mean?” he asked, smirking a little. “What else could you possibly need to last a long time for?”
“I’m sure your imagination can supply just what else I may be referring to.” He poked his shoulder lightly. “One of my blessings is the granting of a second wind anyway, though it is supposed to be in battle.”
“My imagination can supply a great number of things,” Samandriel mused, squirming uncomfortably against that poke. Nope. None of that. “Maybe I like to listen?”
He didn’t poke him again, noticing the reaction, “A dangerous thing to suggest to me. I could talk your ear off, given the time and opportunity. I assure you, none of it would be worth listening to.”
“Then how about you find my ear and try.” He let his fingers run down Hakkon’s side, touching the cool-warm skin where he could.
Hakkon felt his abs tighten like they were desperate to stand out and show off for Samandriel. “I don’t want to bore you, your life has been so different from mine. You must think me quaint, the wild, mountain man with his long hair and his talk of battle and meat and bears.”
Samandriel pushed himself up and spoke against Hakkon’s ear, “Just because your life is very different than mine doesn’t make it boring or any less worth listening to.”
The god of winter shivered, something he didn’t remember doing in a very long time. “Truly? You want to hear about how I would gather up my clans and lead them in raids on the lowlanders? How we would fall on a village like snow, a few at a time until the place was covered, then return home with goats and fancy breads?”
Samandriel let his breath brush warmly against Hakkon’s neck. “I’d like to hear what I’m supposed imagine your stamina to be. What you’d use it for. I don’t know that I can handle more violence.”
“You’d-” He stopped himself, knowing that he could have said something there that would have very much upset Samandriel and he wasn’t interested in that. “My stamina in every sense is impressive, though that isn’t always a good thing. Sometimes being able to mindlessly go on without slowing or taking stock isn’t what is best.”
A quiet little snort answered that as the angel moved away from his ear and let his head rest again. “You’re a terrible flirt,” he murmured.
“Yes, I am.” He said, relaxing a little though not loosening the arm he put around Samandriel. “Are you just looking for physical release or closeness, or intimacy as I’ve heard it called?”
Too far. He’d pushed it too far. He shook his head. “You already said no,” the seraph said, “I don’t- It’s not my place to ask you to change your mind on anything.”
“It’s alright. You just seem to be on a roll, showing your interest. I was simply hoping that we could be honest with one another. It makes it easier, going forward. And I do want to understand.” And Samandriel would push, even if he didn’t mean to, until he got what he wanted or they worked things out between them.
He didn’t want to be the monster. Pushing made him the monster. Made him too close to the people who’d held him. Things spiraled and spun out in his head, dragging him down a path he didn’t want to go before the press of his nails into his palm was enough to bring himself back a little bit, to focus on Hakkon’s words. “I’ll wait,” he said, because there was no answer for Hakkon’s question.
That wasn’t an answer, not really. Maybe Samandriel wanted both, maybe he fell into that awkwardness that lowlanders seemed to have when it came to this topic, it was difficult to tell. “I want you to be well, Samandriel. I only ask because I want to do the best I can by you.”
“I can’t be well,” Samandriel said, feeling that truth in his bones, in the tips of his feathers and the shattered breaks along his Grace. “There is no undoing this. Only whether you shoot the horse with the broken leg now or later.” Not him you. General you. “I want to forget for a while, but I know I never will. I want to trust someone to be close enough, but I know I’m going to push them away the minute they look hard enough to trace the cracks. I’ll wait and you’ll keep your mind where it is and be better off for it.”
He turned his head and captured Samandriel’s lips in a slow, tender kiss. When it ended he met his eyes in the dark, “I think it makes waiting more important, you’ll be able to see that I won’t run or be pushed away by your fears.”
Samandriel didn’t know how to cope with the way that kiss seemed to stitch him up and tear him open both at the same time. He couldn’t look at Hakkon’s eyes. Some part of him wished he was young enough to be so certain, that he was himself enough to remember what hope was. “You will give up.” He reached his hand up, resting two fingers gently on Hakkon’s forehead, but did not send him away yet. It would take a lot of strength. He had to be sure before he expended it. He’d spent so much already. “You will give up and I will forgive you and eventually you will forget me.”
“Will I?” He moved his hand up to take Samandriel’s, gently dragging those two fingers from his forehead. “I am still a god, even if I am not the one you served. I make my own choices, giving up is very rarely one of them.”
“You are a young god.” Staying, then. Hakkon had decided to stay even if he wasn’t fully aware that those fingers could and probably eventually would send him back to his cave. “Kiss me?”
“Still a god, and perhaps still young enough to be indulged without being reproached.” Hakkon pointed out before giving Samandriel another kiss, letting it linger as long as Samandriel allowed it.
Not long. Not long at all, though Samandriel wasn’t sure if it was not long in the moment or not long on a geologic scale. Or both. “You’re not being reproached. Just corrected. Enlightened. Warned off a hunt where the quarry isn’t worth it.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you were, but all the same, that is for me to decide.” He ran a comforting hand up and down his back, “I wouldn’t be here if I did not wish to be, you do understand that, right?”
“I can’t tell if you truly wish to be or if you just like being needed or if you feel some responsibility because of...the state I was in when we met.”
“I reached out to you because of that odd sense of responsibility. I am here still because I do like you, even if you are so very different. And as much as I do like being needed and worshiped, I know you don’t really need me.” Hakkon pointed out.
The seraph shook his head. “I need you precisely because you’re completely unrelated to me, because no one ever told you what an angel or a muse was and you don’t… There’s no ideas in your head about what I’m supposed to be.” No pressure to be something he wasn’t because Hakkon didn’t know what the past had been or what the end goal was meant to look like. “But I can’t worship you. Even if He showed up and commanded it of me, I don’t think I could sing for Him either. Throat’s all dried up. Brush is too stiff. Bow strings worn too thin. If those were the last of my colors I’m glad you got them.”
“You don’t need me specifically for that, I am fairly certain that there are more than a few here that don’t have any idea about what you are even if you told them. You may need someone, but no me specifically. And I suppose I can live without you worshipping me, you don’t seem to have the need for war or winter.” He pointed out, lightly touching his forehead with his own.
“Maybe, but I’ve already given you so much and I’d just have to repeat it to someone new. I have your compassion and your patience already even if I’ve earned neither. Easier that way. Easier this way. No one’s ever called you the path of least resistance before.”
“I’ll add it to my titles if it would help.” He said with a soft smile. “If it is truly easier for you to be near me then let it be easy. Just let go and enjoy the moment with me.”
“You should find your own peace now instead of trying to give me all of it.” Those fingers went up again. He tried to send Hakkon away, to send him back home and...and the strength he thought he had ricocheted back onto himself. Didn’t touch the bear god. Just touched him. Samandriel went nowhere. Hakkon went nowhere. Everything went dark and quiet anyhow.