'Family politics are starting to get a little more complicated.'


Chapter Eighteen: Tension

Today was apparently going to be filled with interesting meetings.

Brain had barely left Frigga's office when Osmin had come to find her, a strange look on his face when he'd told her that he'd gotten a message about a meeting between some of the family heads. While it wasn't unheard of to gather all of the family heads in one place, it was rare to do so unless there was something pressing.

Frigga…had her suspicions about what they wanted to talk about. They had discussed Brain before he'd arrived—but they hadn't spoken after his arrival, and they hadn't talked much about Skuld's arrival. It felt a little like the tension was building, unspoken between her family members, so she wouldn't entirely be surprised to realize that that tension had finally come to a head.

"I hope you know what you're going to say," Osmin told her dryly.

Frigga blinked back to herself. Most of the other family heads were here already—her eyes flicked across Asta, Edda, Finn, murmuring to themselves—and she straightened a little, eyes fixed at the stairs as she waited for Aegir to emerge. It was his house—but she expected him to be prepared to greet them immediately. The fact that he wasn't was…unusual.

"That there's little for them to worry about," she murmured back.

"That's not particularly comforting."

"I'll handle it, Osmin. Don't worry."

Movement flickered at the top of the stairs. Frigga lifted her head, eyes narrowed. "Aegir," she called, and the room fell silent as her voice carried, "I assume you have a good reason for keeping your guests waiting?"

"I had a prior engagement." Aegir didn't seem particularly rushed; he made his way down the stairs carefully, surveying them like he wanted to make sure everyone had come as he'd requested. "I apologize. This was something of an…emergency meeting."

Frigga raised an eyebrow.

"Well?" Osmin asked. "If it's an emergency, we should hear about it, shouldn't we?"

A low murmur of unease went through the crowd. Emergency could be an immediate threat to their family. "Have you heard something?" she asked, careful to keep her voice neutral.

"Master Skuld came to visit me."

Aegir didn't pause to look at her for that long, but it was still long enough. She'd been navigating these situations for a long enough time that she knew how to mask her reactions well, and so she kept her surprise carefully hidden. Internally, she thought to her conversation with Skuld, earlier this morning—her distraction, her questions. "Something went wrong," she surmised.

Aegir, too, was used to these games, and so he didn't snap towards her, but she was gratified by the way his eyes flicked her way, studying her briefly. "It was not a particularly good visit, no," he agreed. "It was…a relatively unexpected one, orchestrated by Kvasir as a show of good faith. I believe he was attempting to smooth out relations between us and the Union Leaders, and Master Skuld seemed the more amenable option."

While Aegir wasn't entirely wrong, Frigga thought it was more likely that Kvasir introduced him to Skuld because he got along with her better, not because she was particularly friendly towards their family.

(If that still left a bitter taste in her mouth—well, she wasn't going to think about it.)

"Master Skuld had, apparently, heard about our…situation," Aegir said carefully. "About the increasingly shaky foundation we've found ourselves standing on. I proposed the idea of a united front between us and the Union Leaders. She declined."

Frigga narrowed her eyes. "That wasn't your decision alone to make," she pointed out, and let a little of her anger leak into her voice. "That should've been a decision discussed between all of us, and presented to both Union Leaders as a group." Privately, she thought if they did want to do so, they'd need more time—more time to build trust, to convince them that there wasn't another option for Scala's safety, to find enough leverage to make sure they wouldn't try and worm their way out of the situation. She supposed that point was moot, now.

"The opportunity was there," Aegir said, "and I wasn't willing to pass it up." He met her eyes for a moment, then turned his attention to the rest of them. "As it stands, however—the Union Leaders are still a present threat to us. Master Brain has been known to ignore the concerns of the council—and I believe I heard something about him getting into a fight yesterday?"

He wasn't wrong, but it felt like a slight against Frigga herself.

Osmin shifted beside her, face set in a stony expression.

"Master Brain has shown himself to be something of a wildcard," Aegir continued, "and now Master Skuld—"

"Is training with me."

Aegir fell quiet, turning to look at Frigga squarely.

Frigga smiled very carefully. "I presume," she said, "that you are moving to propose we do something to address the Union Leaders?"

Warily, Aegir nodded.

"Then there was no need to call this meeting. I am already doing something. Master Skuld has agreed to train with me; I aim to foster that connection and hopefully extend it to other members of the family."

"She's already said she won't give us her support—"

"Which isn't a declaration of war; it's a statement from a teenager who I don't doubt felt pressured into making a decision right away. If you had perhaps waited and come up with a plan with the rest of us, this wouldn't even be a problem." Frigga narrowed her eyes, and an old anger resurfaced slowly, bubbling beneath her skin. "There is a reason you were passed over as the Head of the Council, Aegir. It helps no one for you to try and take power where you shouldn't."

It was a bit of a brazen challenge—but then again, sometimes that was the only way to deal with her family.

Aegir's eyes narrowed, and it was only because Frigga had known Aegir for so long that she saw his anger. "You," he said, "are always too slow to act. You haven't told us what you're doing about Master Brain, have you?"

"He and Master Skuld are friends. If I can reach one, I can reach the other. And then, perhaps, we can present the idea of working together—but only after we've discussed it as a group. We cannot afford to fight amongst ourselves, remember?"

The murmur that went through the crowd made it sound like they were siding with Frigga, and she couldn't help the small flicker of satisfaction.

Aegir didn't look happy—but he didn't look nearly as upset as he should've, which didn't do much to put Frigga at ease. "Master Brain has been running unchecked for months now. The longer this goes on, the more chance there is for people to doubt us. It'd be best to act sooner, rather than later, so that we don't lose what little we have left. But if you'd prefer to leave our family's fate in limbo—well, I suppose I can't argue against the Head of the Council."

Frigga smiled tightly. It was a last jab to win over support; she'd have to see what damage was done later, to figure out how the rest of the family felt. But for now, it was close enough to a victory.


-Brain was late.

Skuld was trying not to worry about it. She was. But he'd made a point of saying that they'd meet at lunch, and with everything that had happened yesterday—

Don't panic. She clasped her hands in front of her, pressing them against her forehead to try and stop the shaking. Don't panic, don't panic, don't—

The café door opened, and Skuld's head snapped up. She breathed out a shaky sigh of relief when Brain stepped through it—and then tensed again when she noticed the haggard expression on his face, the way his hat had been pulled low to hide most of it. He scanned the café, and some of his tension drained away when he saw her—but only a little.

"What happened?" she asked, before he'd had the chance to sit down; it took her half a moment to register she'd spoken over him:

"I hope your day's been less eventful than mine."

Skuld blinked, and for a moment both of them just stared at each other. Then she laughed, nervous tension bubbling over, and while Brain didn't have quite the same response, he did at least smile, slumping into the seat across from her.

"Sorry," Brain said. "It's been…interesting."

"You were going to see why everyone was acting so weird, right?"

Brain pursed his lips and nodded. "It's about yesterday." He sighed, running a hand over his face. "Turns out people were actually paying attention when you found me and Sigurd at the wharf."

That…had a lot of implications, and Skuld didn't even begin to know where to start untangling them.

"They don't know about Darkness," Brain said quietly. "Not as far as I can tell. But they did hear about my fight with Sigurd. Guess it's made them wary—the idea of a Union Leader attacking someone else."

Skuld winced. "I'm sor—"

"Don't." He waved her off, then folded his arms and leaned back in his seat, head tilted towards the ceiling. "I started the fight; I have to deal with the consequences." A pause, and then he added, "Besides, it's not like that's the biggest thing to tell you."

Skuld tensed, biting back a thousand worried questions.

Brain was silent for several long moments; when he continued, his voice was carefully measured: "I'm late because I had an impromptu meeting with Frigga."

…What?

Brain wouldn't quite look at her. "I ran into Sigurd. He'd…mentioned yesterday that Frigga had some sort of plan to take care of Darkness. Turns out, apparently Frigga wants to trap it—in an object, not a person."

Skuld's fingers curled into tight fists; for a moment, all she could think of was finding out they were trapped in a data world, her stomach dropping with the same cold terror.

"So I talked to her about it," he continued, rolling a shoulder, looking like he was trying so, so hard to keep a neutral expression. All it did was make her more nervous. "Turns out, she's looking for a black box that could, supposedly, lure Darkness in. Her suspicions are that it's buried underneath the city in Daybreak Town's ruins."

It took a moment for the words to register. Her first thought was a sort of distant, Oh. That makes sense. She'd known that Scala ad Caelum was built from the remains of Daybreak Town; she hadn't really thought about the fact that there might be something left of her old home, but she supposed it wasn't really surprising, when she thought about it. The second was less a thought and more of a feeling: a slow-creeping thing that couldn't quite settle on dread or grief or joy, so mixed up and complicated it felt like it was going to crawl through her skin.

"Hey."

She hadn't realized she'd started shaking until Brain's hand steadied her quivering wrist. She met his worried eyes and breathed out a shuddering breath, gently freeing her hand and pulling into herself. "Daybreak Town," she repeated.

"…Yeah." Brain leaned back slowly, eyes cast aside. "It's still there, in a way." A pause, and then, quiet: "I volunteered to help."

Skuld's head snapped towards him, an almost-incomprehensible fear trying to choke her. "Brain—"

"I know. But it's not like we can just ignore this." Brain shrugged, but there was a troubled expression on his face. "If there's some sort of solution—well. It's not like we did much better. Can't afford to be picky."

It left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she couldn't bring herself to disagree. "Right."

"…It probably falls under the jurisdiction of the Exploration Department."

Skuld's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"Searching the ruins." Brain waved a hand, like he was trying to brush the thought aside, but there was still something in his expression she couldn't quite place. "It's technically another world, in a way—and even if it wasn't, it still could be dangerous. Figure it'd have to go through you and Meili first—and you'd probably want to build a team."

It clicked slowly, and she gave Brain an exasperated smile. "You couldn't just say, 'I want you to come'?"

"Been dealing with the council too long. They've rubbed off on me."

"Sure."

The ghost of a smile flitted across his face, but it didn't stick, fading back into that pensive expression. "You aren't obligated to. If you don't—"

"Brain. I'm coming."

"It's going to be hard. Going back."

That was…probably true. Walking the streets of Scala already felt a little like being haunted, sometimes. Going back to Daybreak Town would undoubtedly be—

The shadows were moving.

Skuld didn't remember standing, but suddenly she was, Starlight in her hand. It took a moment for her to register that what she saw wasn't shadows, but peoplenormal people, as far as she could tell, now staring down the shaft of a Keyblade with wide eyes.

Skuld's throat tightened. She should…apologize, probably, but the words got stuck. Her Keyblade clung to her fingertips, some warning telling her that she needed to stay alert, because they looked normal but what if they weren't, or what if they were but there was still someone waiting to attack nearby, or—

Brain moved—slow, careful to make sure that she saw him, and gently placed a hand on her arm, lowering it.

She couldn't quite bring herself to relax—there was a part of her that was, unreasonably, angry at him, and she stuffed it down because there was no reason for her to be angry—and then she watched the two citizens scurry away and her anger shifted more towards herself.

"…Did you want to go back?"

Back. She thought, for a moment, that he meant back to the apartment, and the image of a nearly-empty space—not a home, just barely a place to stay, in a city that had been ostensibly built for them—filled her throat with fire. "No," she said, and even when she realized he meant back to Meili's, she couldn't get the image of the empty apartment out of her head.

(Stupid. It was stupid, to be so upset over something so trivial, but—but she couldn't stop thinking about how she didn't really have a home anymore, and how scared she was in a place that should feel familiar, and how tired and frustrated she was over the council and the bluebloods and Darkness and—everything.)

"Come on."

Brain didn't argue; he trailed after her, silent, and his wariness didn't quite fade.


-Kvasir was missing.

Kvasir was missing, and Mimir was the only one here.

They tried not to be angry—they really did—but the note crumpled in their hands, nearly tearing. They'd been on-edge for most of the day—especially when Bridget and Eric had left to find the records that they'd promised for Skuld—and they'd known that Kvasir was nervous, too, but they hadn't thought he'd leave the minute they weren't in the same room.

They smoothed out the note, trying to ignore the slow-building fury in their chest.

'I know you don't believe me, but I know my uncle didn't do it. I'm going to clear things up. I'll see you later.'

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, why did he think he could just go out and try to fix this on his own—

(For a moment, they had a strange, strong sense of déjà vu. They could almost see a shock of white hair and the flash of a red scarf, coupled with an intense fear.)

Mimir took a breath and shook the feeling away. I should go after him. They didn't think that his uncle would go after him, but they didn't know, and that was the problem, wasn't it? The assassin might've been primarily after Skuld, but they still attacked all of them.

Mimir stuffed Kvasir's note in their pocket. Hastily, they scribbled out another one in its place:

'Kvasir's an idiot. We'll be back.'

And then they hopped out the window and started clambering over the rooftops.


-Mimir wasn't nervous about wandering through the streets right now. They weren't.

…But they had to admit that maybe it was a little nerve-wracking, when something knocked over a nearby pot and they nearly jumped out of their skin.

Mimir breathed out slowly, flexing their fists and trying hard not to think about who or what could be waiting out here for them. He's probably at his uncle's, they thought, making a pointed beeline towards the estate. I just need to get there, and get him, and come back. It'll be okay.

(They couldn't quite ignore the vague, prickling feeling of déjà vu; a sense of foreboding that said, He's not coming back. He's disappeared, and you're not going to be able to find him.)

(Again.)

Being out in the open made them feel too exposed, so they tried to stick to the backstreets, clambering over rooftops and hiding near the shadows. It was something they'd gotten used to as a kid; before they'd become a student, they'd often found themself left to their own devices, and they'd learned how to sneak around and explore without adults paying them much mind. The shadows had been comforting in a strange way—like an old friend, keeping them safe while they explored, searching for signs of people they barely remembered but knew were important. Now, that sense of protection came with an almost-constant warning: something that felt tangled and angry, snapping at things that seemed like they didn't belong, a warning shout of danger ever-present in their ears.

A clatter from a nearby rooftop. Mimir froze, still and silent beside a chimney.

Silence, for a moment. A squirrel hopped across some shingles, and Mimir released their breath, slow and steady. They slid down the edge, fingers hanging on the roof's lip, foot searching for purchase against a windowsill. I'm never letting him out of my sight again. Ever. They nearly slipped, and they bit back a startled noise, pressing their forehead against the side of the building with a shaky breath. Maybe I can make Meili ground him.

Their feet touched ground, and they set off again, pace clipped. They reached for their magic, twining it carefully through their ribs and teasing it down through their fingers. This was still…tricky for them, sometimes. "Some types of magic take a lot of finesse," they remembered their mentor saying. "It doesn't take a lot of attention to create a fireball or a blizzard—just a lot of power. But magic like this is similar to my Sight. You can't brute force it; you need careful focus and fine control. Otherwise, everything will be blurred and indistinct."

They magic flickered and jittered between their fingertips, their anxiety too high to really focus. That was alright; they just needed to know if anyone was nearby. Specifics weren't particularly important. The impressions they got were spotty, but there were a couple of flashes—small, flickering hearts, lingering in the streets or on the top of buildings. They cut off their magic, slipping around a corner.

(It was so easy, to feel like they were somewhere else, and it was jarring enough to make their head spin. When their feet hit the cobblestones, sometimes they heard the ring of metal; when sunlight reflected off windows, they thought they could see the mottled colors of stained glass. They had to blink the images away, already irritated that they couldn't seem to focus.)

(Of course one of Ephemer's descendants would be doing this to you again.)

Another flicker of magic, just to be safe, and—

Mimir paused, tense. Specifics were hard, sometimes, but they could swear they'd felt that same presence a little further back. They turned carefully and breathed in slowly. They didn't quite dare call their Keyblade yet, and couldn't close their eyes to concentrate, but they could tease out their magic to see if they could get a better read on who was following them. I'm just being paranoid, they thought, and their magic snapped and sputtered. It's nothing. I'm worrying over nothing. It's fine.

(The shadows seemed to shift. There was something almost angry there, protective and wary.)

"Mimir?"

The wariness vanished, magic stuttering out, and Mimir whipped around to find—Kvasir.

Their first reaction was relief, nearly strong enough to bowl them over, because he was standing there in one piece, if with a slightly confused smile on his face.

"I…see you got my note?" Kvasir offered sheepishly.

Their next was anger, because right, he wasn't supposed to be out here at all.

"You," they signed, and hoped they were still clear despite their shaking hands, "are an idiot."

"I…think that means you're mad at me?"

They settled for glaring at him.

"…Yes. Okay, but—I had a good reason. My uncle—"

Mimir shook their head furiously, signing, "Assassin."

"—wouldn't—okay, yes, that's a fair point, which…is probably more concerning given…what I learned…but it's going to be okay! I have some good news, I just—need to talk to everyone about it."

Mimir supposed that it was at least to Kvasir's credit that he looked suitably nervous, now that it was apparently dawning on him that he could be in danger. Some of their anger faded; they could talk to him about this later, once they were safely back. They grabbed his arm, tugging him back towards Meili's.

(They tried to ignore the feeling they were being watched; it was probably just their paranoia, after all.)


-"…shouldn't have…safe…"

"I know, but…fine…"

The fact that Brain could hear what sounded like an argument from outside the apartment was not particularly promising. He exchanged glances with Skuld, who looked just as apprehensive about things as he felt, and pushed the door open.

Kvasir stood arguing with Meili, neither looking particularly happy. Mimir stood a little off to the side, a stubborn set to their expression. Eric was working in the kitchen; Bridget wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Listen," Meili said, "it worked out alright this time, but it was a huge fucking risk, considering what happened yesterday."

"What happened?" Skuld asked, and Kvasir jumped, looking slightly guilty.

"This one," Meili said, nodding at Kvasir, "decided to go out on his own. And this one apparently went after him without telling anyone." They pointed towards Mimir, who didn't look at all repentant. "Bridget went out looking for them."

Brain narrowed his eyes; Kvasir fidgeted underneath the look. "What'd you leave for?"

"Well…" Kvasir's eyes flicked nervously between their small group, hesitant. And then he straightened, seeming to collect himself. "I went to talk to my uncle."

Brain couldn't say he was entirely surprised—but that didn't stop the sudden surge of anger. "You—"

"Kvasir."

Skuld's voice overrode his, and his mouth clicked shut. She was shaking; he wasn't sure if it was from fear or anger, but it was enough to make him reign in his own frustration.

Kvasir looked a little taken aback at the reaction. "I—I know you don't agree with it, but—"

"You could've been hurt." Skuld's voice was strained, like she was trying not to shout and struggling with it. "If he is the one, then—and now he knows that we suspect him."

"He didn't do it," Kvasir interjected, a faint edge of anger to his voice. "He said he'd look into it. It's good news; he's going to help us discover the actual culprit. He'll help keep us safe."

"He give you any evidence of that?" Brain asked dryly.

Kvasir hesitated, which was answer enough. "My family wouldn't do that," he said instead, which didn't mean much, in the grand scheme of things.

Meili had an expression on their face that said otherwise. They sighed tiredly, running a hand over their face. "You're going to need a reality check, kid."

"Meili—"

"Look." They lifted a hand to forestall any protests—from any of them, by the gaze they swept their way. "It was a dumb move, but the damage is done. We'll just have to work around it. And you and I," Meili said, giving Kvasir a look, "are going to have to have a talk about this."

Kvasir didn't look entirely pleased about that. "I'm not a child."

"Then don't run off and put yourself and others in danger. We're probably lucky the damage isn't worse."

Kvasir faltered, something uncertain in his expression. Mimir wouldn't look at him; Skuld was still shaking. Brain met his eyes, then sighed, running a hand over his face. Great. Just one more thing. He'd have to…figure out something to do about Aegir, probably. Do damage control. He'd need to…workshop something, when he wasn't still thinking about the mess with Darkness.

…It'd be a long couple of days.


-Meili probably shouldn't have been that surprised that Kvasir tried to retreat somewhere on his own, but they were a little annoyed that he'd apparently decided to do that on the roof.

"Inside," they shouted, leaning out the window, "is safer." Then again, they guessed there wasn't much privacy inside—but at least they could've gone on the other side of the door. Not somewhere they could slip and fall several stories.

Kvasir looked a little petulant. "I was just…trying to help."

Meili sighed. Great. Guess I'm climbing onto the roof. They were not going very far from the window—not when they didn't have anything that could catch them, thank you very much—and so they settled very, very uncertainly near the windowsill once they'd managed to drag themself out, eyeing the ground below them skeptically.

"Meili…?" Eric called.

"It's fine. Keep the rest of them entertained." They thought they could hear protests, but shutting the window blocked them well enough.

When they looked up, Kvasir was staring at them. He looked abruptly embarrassed, turning away.

Meili leaned back, as much to try and seem casual as to push themself a little further from the roof's edge. "Look. I get it. You thought you were doing the right thing. But kid—"

"You don't know them. Not like I do. I know you don't get along with them—"

"That's not exactly how it went down." Meili took a moment to consider what they'd say, trying to ignore the way Kvasir looked like he was on the verge of crying frustrated tears. "Look, kid. You were born into nobility; I wasn't. Your experience is going to be very different than mine, because your claim as family has never been questioned. If you were the only person involved? Yeah, this might've worked out. But you aren't the only person involved, and there are a lot of things you don't see."

Kvasir still didn't look entirely like he believed them. "What if people were saying that about your family?" he asked, and then looked guilty for saying it.

Meili barked a quiet laugh. "Guess you did kind of get to the crux of the matter, huh?"

"Meili, I—I didn't mean—"

They waved him off. "No, you're right; most of the other bluebloods never really considered me family. They mostly had to accept me because I brute-forced my way in. My position's too public to ignore entirely—but they've been trying to find ways to quietly kick me out of my position." It doesn't reflect very well on them if anyone can claim to be a blueblood, they thought, but didn't say.

Kvasir looked at him with something between confusion and worry—but Meili thought they could almost see the beginnings of a realization there.

They sighed. "I understand better than you think. My mom had all sorts of accusations hurled at her, once the truth came out. Hated it—but it felt like it was mostly my fault, and I couldn't back out."

"It's not—it's not the same. She wasn't accused of attempted murder."

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't know that from how people acted." But you're right that it wasn't the same. "Look, just—your family's not perfect, and you're going to have to face that reality one day. Not that they're evil; just that they're flawed." And will sometimes do shit things to people to get what they want. "Just ask around, alright? Look into things. And for now—try to be a little more cautious. Regardless of whether your uncle was responsible or not, someone did attack you guys, and leaving on your own was a risky move."

Kvasir did, at least, look a little more sheepish at that. "I—I guess that makes sense."

"Great. Now we're going to get off the roof before we fall to our deaths."

It got a laugh out of Kvasir, at least, as Meili crawled back into the apartment.


-The atmosphere in the apartment was…awkward. Less tense, once Meili had dragged Kvasir back into the apartment, but none of them seemed to know how to break the silence. Kvasir was still perched near the windowsill, looking suitably chastised; Mimir sat on the arm of the couch, expression twisted uncomfortably; Meili sat between them, glancing between the two with vague exasperation, like they were trying to piece together a puzzle they didn't entirely understand.

Skuld and Brain had both settled at the table. Skuld looked like the anger had drained out of her, mostly, expression shifting towards something simply tired. Brain wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what, a similar sort of exhaustion weight down his limbs.

Meili sighed and stood. "Alright, come on."
Brain exchanged curious glances with Skuld—then started when Meili dragged him to his feet. "Up. Let's go."

"Meili…?" Kvasir asked, an almost-awkward grin on his face; he yelped when Meili grabbed him next, practically lifting him into a standing position and placing him beside Brain. When Brain glanced at him, he shrugged, looking just as lost as Brain felt.

"No point sitting around being awkward. If you're here, you're going to earn your keep—which means helping with chores." They pointed towards the kitchen, where Eric was already working, looking like he was smothering a smile.

Brain raised an eyebrow. "That's all this is, huh?"

"Yes, it's also a distraction, smartass." They shoved Skuld and Mimir toward the rest of them. "At least some of you know how to cook, right?"

Some of the exhaustion drained out of Skuld's expression, slowly shifting towards something mischievous.

Brain narrowed his eyes at her.

"The last time Brain—"

"That was not my fault—"

"—tried to make something it glowed." Skuld lifted her voice over his protest, a slow but genuine grin stretching across her face.

"Glowed?" Kvasir repeated. "Like—in the dark?"

Mimir looked like they didn't know if they wanted to be amused or baffled.

"That was something that was in the pots before I got there."

Mimir's expression shifted more towards amused, and they lifted their hands to sign. Brain still didn't have the hang on everything yet, but he got the impression that they were saying something like, "Sounds like a good excuse."

Skuld's snort of laughter more or less confirmed his suspicions.

"Alright," Meili said, "so you're on cleanup duty."

"Hey."

Skuld laughed harder.

Mimir signed something, and when Skuld didn't notice right away they rolled their eyes and nudged her, tilting their head towards the kitchen.

"I'm definitely better," she told them, eyes flickering with amusement. "Out of all of us, only Lauriam was better than me."

"Alright," Brain said dryly, "but that's not saying much, because he was significantly better than everyone." And then he smirked, leaning forward. "Besides, you were helping me with the glowing food."

Mimir clamped a hand over their mouth, looking like they were smothering laughter.

Meili's expression was steadily falling towards something very, very tired. "Can any of you cook?"

"I…can make an effort?" Kvasir offered.

"That's not what I asked."

Mimir signed something that Brain thought was along the lines of, "I've cooked before."

"I'm going to need a translation," Meili said dryly.

"They said they've cooked before," Skuld answered. They looked at their signing, then added, "They spent a lot of time fending for themself as a student, so they're used to making things."

Meili sighed. "Alright. Then Mimir, congrats: you can actually go help Eric get things ready. The rest of you are stuck with me."

The ghost of a smile flickered across Mimir's face, and they hurried into the kitchen before Meili could change their mind.

"Stuck with you?" Brain repeated warily.

"You're learning how to cook."

"Hang on—"

"I already know how—" Skuld protested, voice overlapping with Brain's.

"It could be fun?" Kvasir suggested, even though he also looked skeptical.

"Come on." Meili grabbed both of their arms and dragged them to the opposite side of the small kitchen, giving Kvasir a pointed look so that he'd follow. The two of them were deposited near the counter; Brain exchanged glances with Skuld, who offered him a sheepish smile and shrugged. Despite his vague annoyance, Brain found himself relaxing and smiling back.

He did startle a little bit when a bunch of vegetables were shoved in front of him. Meili passed him a knife, lifting an eyebrow dryly. "You're used to cutting things, right? Being a Keyblade wielder."

"Magic's more my thing." But Brain took the knife, anyways. "But I can cut things just fine."

"Good. Then chop those—Kvasir. Do not try to add anything to that—"

The distraction, amazingly, worked, some of the tension bleeding out of the room. Skuld laughed—and so did Brain, chuckling quietly as he watched Meili argue futility with Kvasir, Mimir casting curious glances at them and eventually signing something to Skuld, which made her laugh harder. It was…nice. Familiar. It reminded him a little bit of home.

(For just a moment, it looked like he was back in the Clock Tower, his friends gathered in the kitchen. He thought he could see Ephemer, lifting his hands sheepishly to ward off Lauriam's protests as Ven watched curiously.

"Really, Lauriam, it could work—"

"Please don't give us food poisoning."

"It might be fun to see what happens," Skuld interjected.)

"Don't encourage him."

Meili's response dragged Brain forcibly out of his memories; he blinked, and then they were back in a tiny apartment in Scala ad Caelum, Ephemer morphing back into Kvasir, Ven disappearing in place of Mimir and Eric, Lauriam shifting into Meili, and Brain felt so suddenly off-kilter that it took him a moment to reorient himself.

"Are you okay?"

Skuld. She was looking at him worriedly, and he glanced away sharply to hide his unsteadiness. "Fine." He dragged in a breath, then said, "Should probably finish this while Meili's distracted."

Skuld had a look that was a little too knowing on her face, but she didn't press him, just stepping up beside him to help him work.


-What they made was, to everyone's relief, edible.

"You can thank me and Eric for this," Meili told Bridget when she came home.

Mimir gave them a vaguely offended look.

"And Mimir."

Bridget laughed. "No help from the rest of them, huh?"

"I'm learning!" Kvasir answered brightly, and then launched into an explanation of some of the things Meili had taught him, which Bridget almost definitely knew but was kind enough not to draw attention to.

"Can't fault his enthusiasm, I guess," Brain murmured to Skuld, and she snorted with laughter, nodding.

"…Hey, Meili?" Skuld said after a moment.

They glanced towards her—tearing their baffled gaze away from where Kvasir was still chatting with Bridget—and gave her a curious look.

"Thanks. For this."

Meili's expression went through several different emotions before settling on something that was almost embarrassed. "Don't thank me for making you help cook."

Skuld smiled, anyways.

Brain eyed the interaction and couldn't quite help the flicker of amusement. It…had helped a little, at least. It wasn't much, but…it made things feel a little more manageable.

(And if there was still something guilty twisting in his chest—he wasn't going to think about it for now.)


I don't really know how cooking together became one of my go-to ways to show people bonding, because I'm…not really much of a cook. But uh. It's fun to write! And it gave the crew a bit of a needed break, haha. (Shh, that's totally the most important part of the chapter; I'm sure there are no consequences from any other character's actions whatsoever.)