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1.
Ugh.
Why won't this boat stop rocking!
Taishen leans against the backwall of his room, sitting on the bed and trying, trying not to focus on the way his stomach swoops and clenches. It's not as though there's much of anything left in there to clench on. And yet... He fists his hands in the single scratchy blanket and tries to think of better times.
The sun in the morning, shining through the dense fog surrounding Jade Shell Village.
The crisp sound of his tea house's door unlocking.
Mei Li's mischievous smile, her sparkling, happy eyes peeking at him over the counter.
Goodness, how he misses her. Taishen sighs, heart hurting, but still, he can't help but smile as memories of his niece flood his mind. He's chuckling to himself about one of her cheeky jokes when a knock on the door startles him.
“Who is it?”
“It is Jornir... May— May I come in?”
Taishen grins, sitting up in the bed. A friend for a visit? How wonderful!
“Of course, Jornir! Please, please come in and take a seat!”
The Firbolg opens the door cautiously, bowing his head in greeting and then bowing more to be able to fit his large stature inside.
“Please, sit, sit! Would you like some tea—Oh, wait, I'll get up—!”
“Taishen.”
“Hmm?” He looks up to see Jornir's hand up, stopping him from rising.
“Please do not get up just for me, I only—Well—I brought you something…” He straightens as best he can in the cramped space and clears his throat. “Barnabos managed to find some, um, and in my experience... it helps with nausea.” He holds out a small bowl filled with little sticks, the colour of straw. “It is ginger. I thought- Um. You could make tea with it and maybe it would... help.”
Taishen grins, clapping his hands together.
“Oh! Oh, Jornir, thank you! That's so nice of you to think of me!” Taishen stands from the bed—
“Ah, uh—! Please, Taishen, if you do not feel well, don't push yourself, I—”
“Oh, but I must make this tea now! I haven’t had ginger tea for quite some time now, honestly, I can’t believe I didn’t think to get some myself! Would you like some, Jornir? Oh, please just sit down! Sit on the bed!”
Jornir seems stuck in place, so Taishen decides to help him, grabbing him by his arms and plonking him down on the bed. It creaks a bit, unused to the difference in weight, but now they can really have a little visit!
“Ah—Um—Taishen, I—” Jornir tries to stand but Taishen simply presses him down again.
“No, no, no, I insist! You brought me such a nice present, I absolutely have to share!”
“I...” Jornir seems at quite a loss. Taishen almost wants to giggle at the picture he makes. Hunched on the bed, knees to his chest, runes clacking together at every small adjustment.
“You just relax right there, and I’ll have this ready in no time!”
Taishen turns to begin his craft, finding his teapot and two cups. He hears Jornir sigh behind him and smiles to himself, picturing his friend’s resigned expression. What a nice way to end the day!
(And it is true, Taishen’s picture of Jornir’s resignation, but it is also true that he watches Taishen prepare the tea and smiles in a very un-Jornir-like manner. Too fond, too indulgent. This smile, of course, is long gone by the time Taishen turns around.)
2.
“Here.”
A quick, gruff greeting and Jornir's large hand placing something into Taishen's palm.
“Hmm?” The dragonborn looks up at his companion. “What's this, Jornir?”
Usually one for intense eye contact, the Firbolg isn't looking at him. And, oh, his cheeks are a bit pink... Must be from the cold!
“It is- Um. You can make tea with it. We have something similar on Mamut.”
“Oh! My goodness! How kind! Thank you, Jornir!”
Taishen lifts the bundle of twigs and greenery to his nose.
“Oh, it's lovely! Mm... a bit like mint and something- something just- wintery! Like the smell of snow but... oh... greener!”
He grins up at Jornir, who continues to not look at Taishen, and, goodness, he must be very cold, even his ears are getting pink now! Taishen reaches out, placing his hand on Jornir's arm (and, oh, doesn't his hand look so small there! It makes Taishen feel a bit strange, something settling in his chest, and tilts his head to try and catch his friend's eye. “It's pretty chilly today, huh? Let's get back to the fire.”
Jornir's eye flicks to him and back to the horizon. “Yes. Let us go.”
He takes off, trudging a path through the snow. Very helpful for Taishen's shorter legs! So thoughtful of Jornir... He brings the bundle to his nose again, smelling the freshness and bright bite of green needles and white bark. That strange feeling remains as he follows Jornir back to the camp. How odd!
(Jornir, ahead, resolutely not looking away from the point to which he is heading, curses his body. His hands are still shaking, and for what? Not even thirty seconds of touching that warm hand? Mamut, help him…)
3.
“Wait, wait, what do you mean it’s done? I haven’t even started!”
The vassal just shrugs at Taishen, and signs goodbye, needing to get on with their own duties that haven’t been mysteriously finished.
“Wha— What…”
Goodness, how strange! What’s he supposed to do now? Taishen huffs a breath, hands on his hips, as he contemplates just what to do with his day now. He can’t be idle…
“Oh! I’ll go find Queenie! She said she needed a hand yesterday…” He walks off, mumbling to himself, still bewildered over his chores being completely finished. Maybe Queenie knows something.
(The dragonborn doesn’t notice as the plant behind him rustles. Too lost in his own thoughts to catch the swish of red hair and heavy footsteps hurrying away. There are still other chores to finish, after all.)
4.
Taishen is exhausted. He is cold. Drained of energy and yet still jittering with worry. Everyone is all right but… It was too close. It was too—Everything is too much, and his mind will not calm. He’s not even sure tea would help… He sighs, looking down into his lap, not wanting to see the stars or the fire. It is just… Too much.
Suddenly, there’s a weight on his back. He startles before letting it sink onto him. It’s warm and soft and smells… Like winter. A certain icy smell and something softer, hitting his nose almost like fragrant steam, something deeper in the ice. Jornir sits beside him.
“Thank you.” A whisper, not even loud enough to produce a puff of fog.
Jornir simply nods, the runes in his hair clacking together. They sit close together, the whistle of the wind and the crackle of the fire the only sounds accompanying them.
They both feel a little warmer.
+1
“Queenie, are you—”
“Shut it, Taishie, I told ya! This is good intel!”
“But you said Skrimm told—”
“Taishie.”
He opens his mouth again, only to have Queenie close her paws around it firmly. “Mmph!”
“Taishie. Baby.” Her eyes glint devilishly, and Daisy gives him an encouraging thumbs up behind her. “Go.”
Before he can even try to say anything, she’s already pushed him out the front door and into the snow. He can hear her giggling inside and he can’t really be upset because it reminds him so much of his precious Mei Li. Ah… Nothing to do but get on with it! Taishen pats his jacket pocket, reassured at the weight there. Hopefully… Oh, goodness, he’s not even sure what he’s thinking doing this! And that it’s on Skrimm’s word… Not that that’s bad! Just. Skrimm and Jornir are not—Friendly. Hmm. Taishen sighs. Deep breath. No time to think about that! He can see Jornir’s footsteps, a stark trail in the white. He takes another breath and makes his way deeper into the city.
…
Jornir sits. Quiet. Calm. He’d managed to find a quiet outcropping overlooking Argentholme. The perfect place to meditate, to pray. Except he’s not quite sure what to pray for anymore. To survive is a given, a sentiment, a hope that never leaves his mind. The feeling that consumes his mind now… He is lost to it. A passing glimpse of gold, scales that glint like gems, a sweet smile only accentuated by bright fangs. A warmth like the sun… Odin and Amman, he must be going be mad. For why else would he feel that same warmth so close to him now?
“Jornir?”
“Agh!”
Green eyes, wide and curious, surrounded by long white lashes blinking at him, close. Too close. Taishen rears away as Jornir starts.
“Oh, no! I’m—Goodness, I didn’t mean to scare you, Jornir! I—Hah, I suppose I should’ve realized you would be meditating!”
Odin, that smile… Jornir clears his throat, praying to the Trio that he’s not blushing too obviously.
“Oh, you must be cold, Jornir! You’re all pink! How long have you been out here anyway?”
Damn.
“Ahem. Not… that long. I thought. Have you come to collect me for something, Taishen? May I assist y—”
“Oh, hah, no, no! No, it’s— it’s nothing like that! I just—Well, um…”
Taishen’s hand pats at his coat, gold against brown. He looks at Jornir, and away. Are his—Is he—? The scales at Taishen’s cheeks and nose have darkened considerably and Jornir is, somehow, even more taken with him.
“Taishen—”
“Ah! Yes, um—” He fiddles with his jacket, hand dipping inside and coming out with something clutched in his palm. He looks up at Jornir again, those green, green eyes looking into his very self. “I… Here.”
Small, warm hand on his, and then the touch of something colder. Harder. Curious, Jornir lifts his hand closer to his face to take a look.
It’s a rune.
It’s—
“Gebo.”
Taishen tilts his head, smiling small and oh, so sweet. “Is that what it’s called? Skri—Um—Queenie, um, found it in a book here. It just said it meant something about gifts and… Well. Jornir, you—”
His name in Taishen’s light voice makes Jornir’s heart squeeze and he squeezes the rune instead, reaches and takes Taishen’s hand.
“Yes, it… It is for gifts but also… A bond. A strong and… A bond.”
Taishen’s smile only grows and Jornir feels his own smile emerge.
“I… Just wanted to say thank you, for everything you’ve given me and… I hope to… do the same.”
So close together, their breaths steam, thick and fast. Their faces must be steaming too, but… It’s such a lovely warmth that neither of them can bring themselves to mind.
(When the others notice a new rune in Jornir’s hair, intertwined in a braid, so it sits just over his heart… Well, they do their best to keep their thoughts to themselves. Though when a similar braid has also appeared in Taishen’s white mane… They simply can’t be blamed for their cheers.)