Hypothermia
"Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them?" – Gandalf the Grey
I glanced up at the other side of the little shelter; my…companion…was still slumbering away. He'd been asleep under the emergency blanket for…two hours, I think. I'd dragged him here half dead; Veles had said his body temperature was nearly ten degrees below "normal".
At least, normal for a Fallen.
"Remind me why we're doing this again?" Veles asked as he materialized in front of me.
"Because, we aren't dicks," I responded, picking up my sketchbook from where it lay on the ground. I nibbled on the end of my pencil, unsure of where to begin.
There was a gentle nudge on my shoulder." Didn't you say that when I asked why we brought down that Fallen skiff back in Helsinki?"
I shot Veles a glare." I'm not a murderer, little asshole. Maybe I'll have to kill the poor guy eventually, but for now I'll let fate decide."
"Yeesh, touchy. I get it, I get it." Veles' facets spun around the light at his center as he eyed me, his own little indicator of being sarcastic, before he floated away and settled down next to one of the heat lamps I'd set up.
I returned to my sketch, putting the pencil to paper and gently stroking out the next set of lines. I'd glance up to my subject; I was working on a drawing of the Fallen laying across from me. Just…something to occupy my time. Not like I had anything else to do.
So, I let myself become lost in my drawing. Drawing a line here, adding some shading there…it felt calming, whereas…everything else was odd. So incredibly strange. I was a Guardian, he was a Fallen; sworn mortal enemies for…hundreds of years. Thousands, maybe.
Yet here I was, drawing one.
I looked up at the Fallen again as he shuffled around, turning himself over. I glanced down at the paper again, then glanced back up, chewing on my lip as I checked the proportions. This guy was…large. Very large. Squinting my eyes, I noticed…hair. Or fur, or something like that. How I had not seen that? He had a freakin' lion's mane on his neck. Going back to the paper, I added a few strokes on the back of his neck.
I yawned before setting my pencil down, rubbing my eyes. I picked my pencil back up; my vision swam momentarily before I blinked it away. For a while the only thing I could hear was the soothing lullaby-scratch of my pencil on the paper.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, I was starting awake. My sketchbook was laying against one of my feet, my pencil dangling from one hand. I blinked blearily, stretching my arms out above my head, then I froze.
Staring at me from across the little hovel were four bright spots. Brilliant, emerald green spots. Correction: eyes. Four emerald green eyes that shone in the low light from the heat lamps. I sat up straight, staring into the Fallen's eyes; he stared back, straight at me. The Fallen let out some kind of noise, a guttural string of growls, clicks, and warbles. He was talking but it definitely didn't sound anything like Fallen speech I'd heard before.
"Veles?"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it." He twirled up into the air, focusing his eye on the Fallen across the tent. The Fallen blinked once, twice, then a third time, but otherwise had no reaction. Veles spoke in something…similar to the Fallen. I wasn't sure if it was really that different or not, but the Fallen seemed to perk up slightly before he spoke again.
Veles turned back to Lia." He wants to know…" He glanced back at the Fallen, who simply nodded, before he spoke again." He wants to know what the shit is going on and why he's 'stuck in a freezebox with a weird-ass tree and a pale-ass motherfucking puppet'."
I stared at the Fallen for a moment before I simply shook my head, a smile splitting my lips." Tell him I found him next to this 'weird-ass tree' buried half in snow and I saved his ass from turning into a meat popsicle." There was a low rumble; laughter, maybe? Or a chuckle.
"He says thank you, and that he didn't mean to call you a puppet. But that you are definitely a pale-ass motherfucker."
"And he's a fat fuck. I had to drag him three miles in the snow and down a six-foot hole. By myself. And he is not light."
The Fallen snorted, gently shaking his head before allowing a gentle silence to fall. I picked up my sketchbook again, turning it on end as I eyed my sketch. It seemed like the proportions were a little off, but it was…no. This was not my best work. Not a very good sketch. The proportions were more than off, the tree wasn't drawn correctly, the space blanket draped over the Fallen wasn't drawn to my satisfaction. A pretty disappointing result, to my mind.
There was a cough from the other side of the shelter, and I picked my head up, eyebrows raised. The Fallen had a finger outstretched, pointing at my sketchbook, what I thought to be a curious light of sorts in his eyes.
"You want this?" I held up the book, heart fluttering. Show him my sketchbook? I…I had never done that before. Not for Cayde, not for Amanda, or Sara, not even…not anyone.
"I believe he wants to see it, yes," Veles chimed in, regarding me with an appreciative gaze. He'd seen my sketchbook, but never offered an opinion on it. I bit down on my lip, my grip tightening on the edges of my sketchbook. I…I didn't want to offend this Fallen, make him lose trust in me or something. But…he also didn't know me. And I'd been told once, a long…long time ago…that to gain someone's trust, you had to offer something of yourself.
I took a breath, and held it out, heart beating harder as I handed it over. The Fallen gently gripped the book in one hand, shuffling a little closer to accept it. He cast the blanket aside and propped the book open on his knees.
He ran his fingers over the thick pages; I watched his eyes widen. He looked up at me, then back at the drawing, then up at me. He pointed at the drawing, then at me, uttering a single word.
"'Me?'" Veles translated. I nodded, scratching at my wrist. My companion ran his fingers over it more gently now, almost reverent. He took one last, long look at it before he returned the book." 'It's beautiful.'"
The knot in my chest untightened and I felt my cheeks flush a little." Thank you…uh…what's his name?"
"He says his name is Sykron."
"Sykron…tell him my name is Lia." The Fallen inclined his head, as if bowing. We sat in silence for a few moments before Sykron wrapped the space blanket around himself. He seemed to relax after a few moments, his head leaning back against the snow. I waited a moment before I closed my sketchbook, setting it off to the side.
I stretched out on my side, wrapping my cloak around myself. As I drifted off, I heard a guttural, yet gentle whisper. Veles whispered to me, and a smile drifted across my face.
"'Thank…you.'"
Author's Note:
Experimenting a little bit. I've been sitting on this idea for a while, not sure how it will turn out because I'm not used to writing romance. At all. But hopefully you guys enjoy it. Please leave kudos, a comment, something or other - it's a big help in working up motivation to actually post stuff. It also helps me understand what I could do better, and what I'm doing well right now.
