Hey! ! Happy April everybody! It seems like time has been flying by, and I'm so sorry about the slow down in my updating schedule. But I think I'm getting back into the swing of things so! !
I hope you have all been having a good few weeks! ! And if you haven't, I hope it'll be getting better soon! And maybe this update will brighten your mood a little?
Ummmm, I don't think I have to put any warnings here? This chapters actually pretty tame, but somethin important happens (if you're looking forward to the romance bit of this fic as much as I am, at least ;3c )
I've also got a deleted scene (i'm lookin at you, Luisa) at the end of this chap that I might post as a one shot bc while I love the scene, it wouldn't fit into my timeline very well. This fic is the slowest of burns, after all.
its got fluff though. And everyone knows I'm a sucker for the fluff.
The Stygian fight drags on, while you idly pick through your backpack and wait on top of lowest tier of the demon structure. War decided when you mentioned multiple worms on the battlefield at the same time that you would be sitting this one out, and while you're irritated and bored beyond belief, you don't protest.
He's got a horrible idea of how to of express affection, but hey. He's also a fast learner, and once the Watcher isn't watching, you have every intention to throw your arms around him whenever you get the chance.
Whether that's romantic hugging or not is still up in the air, and mostly dependent upon War. You would be happy just being friends for the rest of forever, if you're honest. And you've got the others too, so there's no way you'll be lonely, even when they go out on missions.
You have to wonder what'll be like when everything is over. What's an Advisor to do when the quest is over?
Hmmmm...
You mull this over as War finishes up, barely looking up in time for the ridiculously dramatic finisher move.
"Oh my god." You snort in amusement, hiding your face behind a hand. Why does he have to do that?
Is that a Horsemen thing? Do they all do that?
...They probably do, the dramatic fricks.
Re-packing your backpack while he rides over, you're quick to rejoin him on Ruin, although the blood makes your nose wrinkle. "This outfit is screwed." You whine, and War laughs. "I should hold a memorial in honor of how much this poor ensemble has been through, War."
"Perhaps after we give Sameal the heart." He agrees. You have to twist around at quite the angle to see his grin, but its well worth the effort. You smile hesitantly in response.
He's been so nice, lately, and you're not quite sure how to feel about it. Exhilarated, for one, but the worrisome part of you is yelling about your imminent demise.
Ugh.
You tell that part of you to shut the hell up, instead focusing on War's hand on your waist and the future. Silitha is next, after all. You seem to remember her path being a fairly quick one, although you're nervous about the slim chance Silitha will split the two of you up. You know War won't be pleased when you literally lead him into a trap, but you don't know if he'd be able to get through if he started from the front entrance.
Although it is War, and he's anything if not stubbornly innovative.
You smile at the thought, leaning farther into the Horseman in question. "I'm tired." You say, when he shoots you a look. If he sees through your white lie, he doesn't comment on it.
And it's only half a lie anyway. While you're not sleepy tired at the moment, simply stretching your legs makes your muscles burn.
"Hey, War." You hum, tilting your head back to look at him. You mostly just get a view of his neck, pressed against his chest as you are.
He drums his fingers on your hip, and you figure that's the only response you're going to get at the moment. Not that you don't appreciate the motion.
You almost say something ridiculous like I love you (which, you actually did make a habit of telling the other Horsemen on a regular basis), but instead manage, "We're more than halfway done with the Chosen."
He pauses, apparently not having thought about that. "We are. I assume that's not the end of our journey?"
"The Destroyer." You remind him gently. "And we've gotta collect another weapon. That seal ain't gonna re-break itself." You keep it purposely vague, and your belt remains at a reasonable temperature.
War makes a face at the mention of the last seal, although you can't really see him very well from your position. "Re-break." He repeats, the ire in his voice making you cringe.
"You were right. The seals were broken. But they shouldn't have been, because it wasn't time. They- the people who broke them thought they were doing the right thing, I think? But... I don't know what would've happened. It wouldn't have gone to plan, even if the EndWar was at the right time, because if you hadn't died, Death wouldn't have bothered with his questline and from what I know, that would be bad."
Trying to imagine alternate timelines has never been your strong suit, honestly, but you know this is preferable to allowing Absalom to continue spreading corruption and getting stronger.
War seems confused. "How bad?"
"The last boss is named Absalom." Your chains send you a warning, but you're pretty sure it doesn't care as much as divulging Death's timeline as much as War's so you're fine.
He response is immediate, the grip on your torso becoming acutely painful as he yanks you as close as possible and snarls something you can't quite understand. The only word you recognize is Absalom, truthfully.
It takes you a second to process both the viciously protective gesture and what you know from the handful of fights his siblings got into are nephilim curse words.
"War." You tell him, wishing you could twist around to hug him. Ruin stopped moving at his outburst, but the Horseman seems too distracted to banish him. "War." You repeat, pressing your hand against his cheek. "Death can handle it."
Ruin whinnies when his rider doesn't respond, and verrrry sloooowly you can feel the anger drain out of War. His grip loosens considerably, and you wince as the blood flow returns.
"Ouch." You hiss under your breath, pressing your hand over his as if that'll help the bruises that are no doubt forming. You know, logically, its not his fault he forgot how easily you bruise in comparison to himself. Goodness knows how many times Fury and Death were downright startled when they saw injuries from your training (I didn't hit you that hard was a common phrase).
Although War is definitely not at all like Fury or Death when it comes to injuries, as exhibited by his reaction at the Cathedral. Strife was always the one to patch you up back home.
Home.
"Frick." You say, unable to stop yourself.
War doesn't respond verbally, but you can feel the question in the air as he spurs Ruin on again.
"I just- nothing." You stutter through a response, falling completely silent as the way back to Vulgrim's. The trip through the serpent path is likewise silent, and although you know from the looks War's casually throwing your way he's knows something's up, you can't explain how you feel.
Of course, you can't explain how you feel when War's got you backed up against the shop wall either, his hands on your slightly discolored waist.
He didn't mean to at first, that much is apparent, because you were just asking him if a rest was out of the question as he bartered with Vulgrim and he glanced over at you. Granted, you were half dressed at the time, but you cannot be blamed for wanting to get out of those nasty clothes as soon as possible.
"When were you injured?" The Horseman demands, and you're not sure if he's mad at you or himself. His teeth are bared, but he traces the still forming bruises so carefully you wish, not for the first time, that you weren't so easily flustered.
"When we were talking about Absalom." You admit truthfully, looking at a particularly interesting crack in the wall.
Your "frick" from earlier just ain't cutting it anymore.
"I..." War starts. You're just barely brave enough to glance back up at him. Oh. "I apologize. I did not mean to hurt you."
For a moment staring is all you can manage, completely frozen in shock.
You've never seen him so vulnerable. Your heart up in your throat, you rush to assure him, "No, War, its fine! Well, not fine, and I would appreciate more of an effort in the future to remember how fragile I am, but... You're forgiven."
He nods solemnly, hands dropping from your waist. Some part of your immediately misses his warmth, but you shove them down to never be reexamined. Ever.
War isn't looking you in the eyes anymore, his eyes on your injury as if staring mournfully will make the marks disappear or something.
God, do you hate that expression.
You throw your arms around him before he can back away, and he freezes for several horribly long seconds before reciprocating, warm arms caging your waist.
You'll admit the angle is awkward as hell, mostly because he's so much bigger than you and neither of you know how to work around that (you think it's be easier if he just picked you up again), but its good. It's so good.
You feel safe.
That feeling is quickly replaced though, and you're back to your near constant state of anxiety as soon as Samael enters your line of sight.
You latch onto War's pauldron, the same, familiar motion making the ever increasing aura around the demon much more bearable. The glance War sends you when you do so however, makes you feel like your chest is going to burst. You're not quite sure whether its a pleasant sensation, either.
I've got it bad. You think, thankful when the Horseman turns his attention back to Samael (who looks a little too smug, and you wonder if that's because he's amused by your no doubt lovestruck expression or just because he's got another heart).
A heart that he's eating.
You're nearly positive they both take notice of the shudder that rakes your frame before you squeeze your eyes shut, and Samael laughs. "What, scared of a little carnage?"
That has you snapping to attention, eyes blazing, "I'm not scared."
He just smirks, and for a split second you wonder if your light can slice off his hand. That would be counterproductive, a more reasonable part of yourself says, willing your hands to relax the fists they've formed.
I'm not scared, least of all of you. You repeat, tilting your head up defiantly.
"One more, and you will have your tower, War." Samael finally gets back to the heart of the matter, apparently finished hassling you for the time being. "Silitha's web infested lair is far across a great chasm in the Ashlands. Ruin has yet to regain much of his strength, but he will make the distance." He stalks closer, towering over the both of you. "As for Silitha, just get there, and she will find you.
"The Broodmother is a collector of sorts. Most who enter her realm, she feeds to her young. The ones she takes an interest in, those are the unlucky ones." Samael is doing something, presumably some weird ass magic you can't even comprehend, but War remains unimpressed.
You'd imagine its just playing out like the cutscene, and War's getting a sneak peak (if you will) of the Iron Canopy. You wondered how that worked.
"Are you saying we're gonna be the unlucky type?" You ask, trying not to let the giant wings cocooning your body bother you too much. Easier said then done.
"She keeps those alive. And they can live a long time... Long enough to tell her things." Samael's wings unfurl, and you feel like you can breathe again.
"She's up to date on all the juicy gossip, awesome." You laugh. It comes out awkwardly, stilted by your shortness of breath, but War scoops you back into his arms as he turns away from Samael and if that's not comforting you don't know what is.
"What stories will she tell me about you, Samael." War says.
The demon doesn't take kindly to that. "Careful! Or your ending will be a tragic one! Sometimes, the hero dies in the end."
Now, that's what I call foreshadowing! You move closer to War, and he shifts his hold on you to accommodate without breaking his stare down with Samael. For some reason this strikes you as endearing.
Samael is looking at you the next time you glance up, and he continues in a slightly softer tone, "But Horseman, I like stories that have a... happy ending. Now bring me the final heart."
You have the strangest feeling he was not, in fact, talking to the Horseman just then.
And you are not sure what the fuck that means.
War is, of course, silent as he stomps away, but you easily recognize the confusion in his expression as well.
"So I'm not the only one who thought that was weird?" You ask, as soon as you're sure Samael cannot hear you.
War makes a face, confirming, "It was weird."
Your lips quirk up in amusement. "You don't have to do that you know." When he raises an eyebrow, you elaborate, "Mimic my speech like that. I know you wouldn't say weird without me here."
He shrugs, "I wouldn't be talking as often either."
"You say as if you're the one hogging the conversation." You roll your eyes.
War grants you a tiny smile, silently agreeing. You would be swooning if not for your sense of dignity and the realization the two of you are, in fact, headed to the Iron Canopy.
"But speaking of my habit of talking your ear off, what are we gonna do about Silitha?" You ask, pressing your lips into a thin line.
"I am going to kill her." War answers simply, leaving no room for a disagreement.
Biting back a laugh, you continue, "Well, yeah, but... What if we get split up?"
He stops, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"
"It's a distinct possibility and I want to be prepared." You glance down at your claws, knowing they won't help you in the slightest if you're pumped full of venom. You know, if it comes down to it, War will tear the place apart looking for you, but the idea of being separated in the first place makes you extremely uncomfortable. You like War being within your line of sight, even if you are sitting a fight out.
He pauses, thinking through his answer. "If we are separated, and Silitha does not immediately kill you-" you may've imagined him wincing just then- "Either wait for me, or keep her entertained with stories."
You nod determinately. "I can do that."
War begins walking again, while you mentally go through every story you've got. Or, you try to at least. You quickly get distracted by once again going through the same serpent path you just got out of, and your general annoyance with Samael. "Couldn't he have, like, told us Silitha was right next to the Stygian and let us get the both of them back to back?"
"...Couldn't you have?" War answers slowly, obviously confused.
...
"Fuck. God dammit. You're right. I could've asked before we went to kill the Stygian. I'm the worst planner that ever was." You say haltingly, bringing your hand up to your face. I messed up.
You're not sure if the noise War makes is a laugh or a snort, but either way you're proud of yourself.
The two of you fall back into a comfortable silence after that, only broken when you greet Ruin. He appears just as uninterested as earlier and War's still got that slightly confused head tilt. As if he's just perplexed by casual affection.
The insinuations behind that make your heart hurt.
You know from staying with the others they were equally baffled by your open affection, but... He's War. You can't help but think he deserves all the affection he wants after the literal hell he's been through.
You make sure to snuggle as close as you can get away with when he pulls you up, noting that he's using the other hand to hold you now. Probably worried about aggravating your bruise.
Sweetheart.
You can feel the blush on your cheeks following that thought, and can only hope War doesn't glance down at you before it dissipates. Not that he hasn't seen you blush. You're almost certain the blush you were sporting earlier was impossible to miss.
You're also almost certain you will never be able to look at that particular wall again in the same light, and that you will not mention it to War. You're just gonna move on with your life, as if you don't have a huge crush on one of your closest friends.
In particular, the scowly-est best friend, which probably says a lot about your taste in men.
Huh.
You brush that thought aside in favor of admiring the scenery (which is much easier to do when Ruin is doing most if not all of the work). War easily handles the demons that seemed to have dragged themselves out of the ash while you were gone, and you're left with little to occupy yourself.
It's nice having a little break though.
And the Soul bridge isn't half as terrifying as you thought it would be, but you use the excuse to press against War like a total scaredy cat anyway.
And, to you surprise, he allows you to stay that way even when Ruin steadies himself on the ground again and continues on like its no big deal. The similarities between him and his Rider do not escape you.
Ruin is also looking pretty tired though, and you can feel him panting when you lean forward and press your hand against his neck. War tightens his grip on you while you do so, not enough to hurt thankfully, but to reassure he's got you.
You return to your original position with a pout, knowing neither the Watcher nor War will let you get away with making the group stop so Ruin can recover a little more. You know there's still quite a ways before the trap.
They would stop if I had to rest though, right? You realize, a smirk appearing before you can stop yourself.
You quickly wipe it off your face, replaced with your best 'War, I'm fucking exhausted, can we please pause' face. You even rub at your eyes for good measure, the motion purposefully languid.
"Hey, War?" You ask, tilting your head back.
His eyes narrow.
"Can we stop for right now? I'm sorta tired." You're not exactly lying, but knowing what's ahead, you could've waited to rest. For Ruin, you tell yourself.
War gives you a strange look, appearing to think it over. "We can." He finally decides, stopping Ruin.
To your confusion, he doesn't immediately banish the horse, but instead simply dismounting like a normal person and then helps you do the same (which you are both flustered by and extremely thankful for).
War almost precisely mimics your actions from earlier, facing Ruin with one hand on his neck. He says something, in that strange nephilim language you're well acquainted with, and you abruptly realize you really should just leave them be.
Not wanting to intrude any further in their reunion, you begin fixing yourself a... Lunch? Dinner? Lunch-dinner, you decide with an affirmative nod.
War settles down next to you while you're still crunching on one of the overly dry 'heathy' kind of granola bars that Strife insisted were for the best, because god knows you'd die of malnourishment if you were allowed chocolate.
You silently offer War a water bottle that he declines.
"Your siblings like human food, you know." You say as soon as swallow, still mentally cursing his brother.
"How did you convince Death to try it?" War responds, easily finding the fault in your statement.
"Okay, two of your siblings like human food." You allow.
You continue trying to make small talk with the Horseman as you finish your meal, but as you begin packing back up you find yourself yawning in earnest. War seems sort of surprised by that, actually (which, you assure yourself, is definitely not because he called your bluff).
Of course not.
Trying to get comfy when you're laying in a desert of ash is a challenge, and it is also cold in the shadows.
Eventually you settle down enough to sleep, although your sore body protests against the way you have to curl in on yourself in order to stay warm. "Night." You tell the Horseman sleepily, unsurprised when he doesn't answer.