AN: Where am I going with this? Who knows.

Doppelganger

II

Odin's home planet was not what Ava thought it would be.

It was much grander than she believed.

Maggie had not been impressed, though she never really was with anything much of these days. The girls spent their days apart, Maggie usually sulking off on her own, wanting Gil to come find her, though Ava was certain that wasn't going to happen at all.

Maggie didn't seek her out, though Ava wished she would. But her friend had always been the stubborn sort. Ava had been wracked with guilt for years in her old life, ever since the day their relationship crumbled to pieces. She couldn't blame Maggie for not wanting to be around her.

The silence Maggie gave her would be too painful; so because she wanted Maggie comfortable, and because she loved her still, Ava would keep her distance.

But a part of her—a moiety of her psyche she thought long buried by Wrathia—knew that this new life needed to be better than her last one. This was a chance, even if for a brief time, to find good in and around her.

It wasn't the least bit selfish.

She had to learn to care for herself.

The woods beckoned with the voice of a paramour, and there she went first to find a sense of belonging.

Ava took to wandering the forest, enthralled with the majesty of nature that she never got to experience. All they had were frail, weak gardens back at the school. Ava was treated fairly nicely by the denizens of this uncharted world, rather distant but polite; she didn't mind. While she would usually desire company of some sort, she found a tranquility in the woods she never thought she could feel.

The black spruce trees stood proud and tall, leading into denser areas, where she'd come to sloping, vibrant hills and the further along she went, she'd find the burrows of animals, which delighted her, especially when she came across one filled with rabbits. She didn't bother them, and once they realized she was no threat, they would venture out to watch her too. Being around them was enough.

For the first time in her new life, Ava believed she could be happy.

Ava sighs, mist leaving her lips in a puff of white. It has been several months since she came, the weather actually changing and she relished it. She might not like the cold much, but it felt so different out here that Ava didn't mind. She pulled up a frayed scarf up to her face. It scratched lightly, tickling her skin.

The stars are bright above her, twinkling, visible and no longer a canvas she would paint in her mind. The young girl hums to herself, serene.

A crack from behind alerts her to someone approaching. She jolts a bit.

"S-Sorry," Odin says.

"Oh!" she breathes out, smiling, "It's just you."

Odin smirks a little, squinting at her, "You're in a g-good mood."

"It's so nice out here!" she exclaims, throwing her arms above her head, "We rarely saw this at my other planet,"

Odin nods, enjoying the cold, briefly glancing up at the sky. "I'll h-head back then."

She looks up, "Why?"

"I wanted to make s-sure you were f-fine. And you're enjoying yourself, so I'd ra-rather not distu-u-urb you—"

"No, stay." she tells him, patting a patch of dirt.

Odin's face betrays the surprise he feels and, truth be told, she feels the same about herself.

Ava Ire was a shy girl of fifteen, could barely look at people without wanting walls to swallow her whole.

That girl was not completely gone—she had died, but returned a shadow set aflame.

A shadow that didn't mind other souls being near her the way she did in her past life. At least certain souls. Odin became one of them, and not only from sharing demons.

Ava knows, too, she is touched by his words. Odin, though, would do this sort of thing, and he didn't have to… she liked having a friend. She hadn't had a friendship in so long… Maggie had been close to her as children, but their relationship remained as tattered as the cloth wound about her neck.

Sadness settles upon her head, a shroud that briefly blinds her vision.

She tries not to remind herself too often about that.

Take care of yourself.

It's not selfish.

But it's still hard.

Odin tilts his head, eyeing her mutely. Her sincerity is a welcome pace—since returning, having failed his mission, it seemed as though he had a harder time fitting at home than before. He did find her to be more tolerable than most people he'd meet and, after the months of getting used to her, he finds himself really looking forward to the rare instances they communicate.

Ava, he found, is the first person he could consider a friend.

Odin didn't think he could find it in himself to be close to someone outside of home. There was something in him that always felt it couldn't be around other people. Nor did he want to.

Which was strange, because he felt too much of an outcast in his home. He admired Olai, always had, but that fondness quickly stirred up inferiority in him as they grew older, searching for a purpose while stumbling in his brother's silhouette; Olai didn't have this speech impediment either…

And his sisters, though he loved and enjoyed taking care of them all, didn't respect him, plus, in truth, Raven and Crow didn't tend to care much of what he thinks.

His sisters looked to Olai—they all did.

Odin wasn't the type to want veneration from anyone outside immediate family.

But Ava had been different almost from the moment they started getting to know each other. It was nice…

Her eyes shine up at him. He sinks to his knees, taking the space she offered.

Ava grins. He can't help mustering up a smile of his own.

They stare up at the white poking holes through ink, awash with a calm stars never had to envy.

Ava tucks her gloved hands beneath her underarms, blowing out more fog that doesn't leave in an acidic smog. Odin props his body against the trunk they sit by, scanning for patterns that people searched and made for themselves, in a universe too vast to really understand; but they did it anyway.

"Do you k-know any constellations?" he asks, deciding some small talk would be fine.

Ava narrows her eyes at the sky, pursing her lips, "Um… no, I don't really know any."

He points a finger at a certain spot, drawing out invisible lines, "See th-there? That's Cygnus."

"Cygnus?" she tilts her head to find it better.

"Y-Yeah."

"The dots going down that way?"

"Mm-hmm. It sh-should look like a s-swan."

Ava's eyes widen, "Oh! That's what that is! What other ones are there?"

"Sirius is o-over there,"

"Serious?"

Odin smiles a bit, "R-Right that one's ki-kind of a homonym … it's sp-spelled S… Ugh, S-I-R…"

She waits patiently, and he flushes in gratitude.

"…I-U-S." he finishes.

"Ah…" she whispers in comprehension, "What does it look like?"

"I-It's also c-called the Dog Star," Odin marks out the paths with his fingertips.

Moments pass, his hands laying out creatures from heavens, her eyes taking in the sky with a sense of awe. Odin watches her expression, Ava leaning forward, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"I didn't know there was so much up there. Do they have any rabbits?"

Odin inclines his head down, "Rabbits?"

"Yeah, are there any up there like that?"

He scans the black, trying to remember. There probably is, or was, at one point in time but he can't recollect such a display.

"N-No. Nobody's m-made up a rabbit constellation. None th-that I can remem-ember anyway."

"Oh…"

"T-That doesn't mean you can't make one, you know," he suggests, noticing her crestfallen expression.

Ava stares at him as though he gave her the grandest epiphany, "I can?"

Odin is almost taken aback by how cute she looks. He licks chapped lips, pulling leather mitts further up his wrists, "The s-sky doesn't belong to anybody. Go for it."

Ava returns her gaze back up at the sky and its fireflies, trying to find images that could give her what she wanted. She finds none.

Rising to her full height, she walks several steps, as though she could get nearer. Several blinking stars connect in the form of ears but do not map out well for a body of any sort, not even a face. Crossing her arms, Ava continues to look for a shape.

Odin watches her quietly, chewing on the mouthpiece of his pipe. Soon the scent of florem mortem mingles with the frosty air, the smoke pungent. She paces slightly to the left, continuing to stare up.

Suddenly she turns to him, face shining gold and red in the night, "I did it!"

"Oh, g-great," he congratulates.

"Come here and look at it!" she says, hopping a bit in place.

He stands, dragging another puff of smoke into his mouth, letting it swirl around, a ghost on his tongue. He breathes out, "Where?"

Ava points up, "Right here, I got the ear and then it goes to the left—which is where it's facing—and it curls around and it even has a tail!"

Odin squints, trying to see what she sees, leaning far down to be at her height. He thinks he almost has it… "Point it o-out again,"

She moves to stand in front of him, strands of red brushing against his chin and nose, causing him to exhale; wisps of wine fan out before him, contrasting against the crimson. He takes a small step back, a little unnerved by the sudden wobble his heart did in his chest. More disturbed that he can't tell if it was all Pedri either.

"Right here, see?" she directs her fingers along the path, taking her time with carefully finding the right dots.

Odin blinks, "Ah, t-that's where it is,"

"You see it?" she turns to look at him, absolutely radiant in the dim night, skin glowing from satisfaction.

He meets her eyes, "Y-Yeah… I see it."

"What should I name it?"

Odin lets several rings of vapor out his mouth, "Y-You could name it an-anything,"

Ava ponders, putting her finger to her cheek. "What language are the other ones?"

"L-Latin,"

"Latin?"

"Re-Really old language people used to s-speak,"

"Do you know any Latin words for 'rabbit', by chance?"

He hums to himself, trying to conjure up a memory of something… "Lepus is o-one. I can't think of anything e-else,"

Ava purses her lips, "I don't like it,"

Odin peeks down at her, "Is i-it yours?"

"Huh?" she peers up at him questioningly, 'Course it's mine."

"Then g-give it any n-name you want. Don't worry about dead la-languages,"

Ava gives her attention to her creation, silently sifting through names that don't hurt—well enough for what she made; a name she knows exists but has no bad memories attached to it.

She murmurs, "Ophelia."

The boy blows out more dark smoke, "Huh… N-Never would've thought of that."

"Is it bad?" Ava wrings her hands.

Odin shakes his head, "If y-you like it, that's all th-that matters, right?"

"Sure but…"

"But?"

She glances down, "I… want to know what you think."

Odin hears his demon laugh inside his core, and he'd strangle the bastard if he could, mocking him quietly in confines he can only find in dreams. He's grown closer to her than he thought. Something about this nettles him sorely, though he can't decide what it is right now.

Their gazes meet; he finds himself drowning in the sun, answering, "I think it s-suits your constellation perfect. Nice w-work, firefly."

Ava beams, flesh flushing with intense undertones of fire.

Letting the last flickers of the smolders in his pipe fade, he occasionally inspects her throughout the night, burning brighter than the stars she doesn't tear her gaze from.

Ophelia (Greek): help