Avietta_Ikarilove
Softly with grace
Summary:
Just him, her, and the world.
Author’s Ideas: I'M ALIVE I PROMISE
What’s this??? A Heroes book I’m actually excited about??? You heard right!!!
This was completely spontaneous so uh here have four chapters of just. This new ship that popped in my head and wouldn’t leave me alone
Perhaps the greatest surprise of the morning was the smell of meat, wafting through the camp. Líf stuck his head into the dining hall.
“Where’d we get that?” He asked, motioning to the meat being cooked. Thrasir glanced up.
“Not even a ‘good morning’?” She questioned, and he sighed.
“Good morning, oh great and holy princess of Embla.” The sarcasm was thinly veiled but the greeting seemed to be sufficient, as Thrasir turned her gaze back to the pan.
“Good morning to you, too. Baldr found some pigs in a small clearing nearby last night, so there’s no need to go run through campaign finances again.”
Líf let out a sigh of relief. Next to Thrasir, Noba let out a light chuckle.
“Why don’t you take a seat?” She suggested lightly, gesturing to the tables just outside of the kitchen space. “I’ll go get everyone else. Thrasir, could you bring out the meat when it’s done?”
“Sometimes I forget who’s running this army,” Thrasir commented sarcastically.
“That’s because it’s me. I run this army.” Líf piped up, and Noba laughed again before moving away. Líf stepped aside, allowing Noba to pass into the living quarters behind him, before stepping fully into the kitchen.
It was shockingly clean, considering Thrasir and Noba’s track record of messiness in the kitchen. Only a tray of fresh blueberry jam relayed their routine disorganization.
“How early did you wake up?” Líf questioned incredulously. He had woken up as soon as the sun rose over the horizon, but by then the scent of meat had already begun to permeate the air.
“I didn’t. Baldr came back with the pigs as my shift for night watch was ending, and when we finished butchering and cleaning, there was only a short amount of time left before kitchen duty started so I decided to get a headstart.”
Líf stared at her, his eyes wide, before saying, “Thrasir… I’m going to ask you to have something to eat, and then go to sleep.”
“Líf, I am on kitchen duty.”
“I’ll take over.”
“But—”
“I’m changing that into an order. Have something to eat, and then go to sleep. Don’t make me force your hand.”
“That is called abusing your power, Commander Líf,” Thrasir quipped.
Without a warning, Líf threw her over his shoulder. She yelped, and he felt his heart flutter.
“Líf!” She cried. “You cannot keep doing that!”
“I run this army, so I do what I want,” he responded, and Thrasir tugged at his hair. “Ow.”
“If I promise to eat and then go to sleep, will you let me down?”
“If you promise.”
“I promise, Líf. Have I ever broken a promise?”
In response, he lowered her until she could safely leap back down onto the ground. She brushed a hand through her hair, pushing away stray strands of hair that had fallen in her face before reaching up towards him.
“I hate how tall you are,” she murmured. Carefully, she removed the golden headpiece he wore and smoothed out his hair before placing it back on; he didn’t fail to notice that she took care in ensuring that his bangs framed his face.
“Thank you,” he said, because he did not have the breath nor the heart to say anything else.
“Mhm. If you are going to lead an army, you have to look the part.” She blew out the fire beneath the pans cooking the meat and smiled slightly. “I am going to have some bread and then get some well-needed sleep. Can you serve that?”
“Of course.” He smiled back. “Go get some sleep.”
Thrasir left—he missed her presence as soon as she did—and Noba’s cheerful voice drifted in from outside the kitchen. Moments later, Noba hurried inside, followed by a small group of Heroes. Líf gave them a warm greeting and got to work. Soon, the dining hall tables were lined with plates of meat, bread, and jam.
“Líf,” Artemis greeted. He nodded, taking a seat in front of her. Artemis had been an ally in his campaign to unify Askr for a long time; almost a year, now that he thought about it. Had the gates to Archanea really been closed so long ago? He hoped they would be able to return—to send Artemis home when this war was over.
“How are you?” He asked.
“Good. Homesick at the best.”
A wave of guilt washed over Líf. “I’m sorry.”
“There is no need to apologize. And besides, I have reminders of home here. Trinkets I brought with me… and you, Líf.”
“How so?”
“You remind me of my friend.”
Líf’s eyebrows raised. “Do I?”
Artemis smiled and nodded. “Yes. Always pragmatic… always thinking ahead… he was a true hero. He has saved so many lives.”
Líf cringed slightly. “With all due respect, I do believe your friend is a great deal more heroic than I am.”
“You are selling yourself short, Líf. Your campaign has inspired hope in many others. Why do you think you are revered with awe and hailed as a champion, while six months ago not even two people spared us a glance as we walked through village marketplaces?”
He paused. Artemis smiled.
“People admire you, Líf. More than you could ever imagine. Strangers admire you as a hero, acquaintances admire you as a stalwart person, friends admire you as a steadfast companion… and perhaps some of them admire you as more than a companion.”
He blinked. She smiled melancholically.
“Consider my words,” she said softly. “After all, my friend found love. I am sure you will too, Líf.”
With that melancholic look that constantly haunted Artemis, Líf could not say he was surprised to find she, deep down, cherished love. He wondered if she had been heartbroken before.
Artemis’s words continued to weigh on his heart. He had never thought of love before, had not even experienced it before, he did not think. Perhaps… no, he had. But the world had kept them apart: he with the unification of Askr, and her with her duties as princess.
Even as he sparred with Altina and oversaw the spar between Sety and Athos, he continued to wonder. Artemis… perhaps she was right.
“Watch out!” Sety’s voice broke through his thoughts. Líf started, looking up and jumping out of the way of a blast of cutting wind.
“Careful!” Altina called over the wind, wincing as her hair whipped around in a frenzy.
“Sorry!” Sety apologized. Altina laughed softly, shaking her head.
“That was rather aggressive,” Thrasir commented, and Líf turned around to find her brushing her bangs out of her face. “Good afternoon,” she said, approaching him. He nodded in greeting.
“Good afternoon, princess!” Sety called breathlessly. A circle of fire began to draw itself around his feet, and he dove out of the way. “Athos, you cheat!”
“Stay on your guard, Sety!” The sage chuckled.
“Do you have time to plan out some strategies?” Thrasir asked, pulling at Líf’s wrist. He glanced over at Altina, who nodded.
“Go ahead. I’ll look over these two,” the swordswoman reassured, and Líf thanked her before following after Thrasir, who led him into a spare living quarter. Spread out over the table were multiple maps, already marked.
He stared blankly at the maps, watching as she began to move, circling dangerous areas and drawing out possible routes as she began to explain the possible strategies.
“Líf?” Thrasir asked, noticing his spaced-out look. “Is something wrong?”
He blinked, glancing at her briefly before shaking his head. “No, it’s… it’s nothing.” He turned back to the maps spread out on the table before them. Thrasir set down her quill, taking his wrist and spinning him to face her.
“Líf,” she said sternly.
“It’s nothing, really,” he repeated in an attempt to reassure her. Thrasir simply raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not looking at me,” she noted, and he suddenly became much more interested in his shoes.
“I—” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and slowly glancing up at her.
She met his gaze before crossing her arms, frowning. “Do you not like my company anymore? Is that it?”
“No! It’s the complete opposite—” he cut himself off at the realization of his words. Thrasir blinked. Líf swore and made to turn away. She caught his hand.
“Líf,” she murmured, “that is so unlike you.”
“What is?” He asked breathily.
“Running.” There was a small smile on her lips. “Heroes do not run, my dear.”
Líf felt his face flare with blood, blushing fiercely. Thrasir let out a laugh; the first he had heard in a while. It sounded heavenly. He felt his breath fly out of his lungs.
“I tease.”
“Clearly,” he managed to choke out. “Thrasir…”
“If you were wondering, I, similarly to you, have enjoyed your company since we met, and I can say with full confidence that… I, too, like you.”
He let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding, his shoulders shaking. Thrasir’s hand squeezed his.
“Now you have no reason to run.”
“No, I don’t,” he responded, chuckling. He watched as her face lit up, and felt his own heart warm. His hand slipped out of hers, holding her chin. “May I…?”
She nodded confidently. His lips curled into a small smile, and his eyes fluttered shut.
The world melted away when his lips grazed hers. Her hands curled into fists, clenching tight to his cloak as he pulled away.
“...Again,” she whispered, her voice trembling. He complied happily, cupping her face in his hands. Every time they kissed, they came back for more, and each time it felt like the world had suddenly changed—that it only held him and her.
Just him, her, and the world.
Author’s Ideas: I'M ALIVE I PROMISE
What’s this??? A Heroes book I’m actually excited about??? You heard right!!!
This was completely spontaneous so uh here have four chapters of just. This new ship that popped in my head and wouldn’t leave me alone
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Absconde Eos
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I: Hero
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Perhaps the greatest surprise of the morning was the smell of meat, wafting through the camp. Líf stuck his head into the dining hall.
“Where’d we get that?” He asked, motioning to the meat being cooked. Thrasir glanced up.
“Not even a ‘good morning’?” She questioned, and he sighed.
“Good morning, oh great and holy princess of Embla.” The sarcasm was thinly veiled but the greeting seemed to be sufficient, as Thrasir turned her gaze back to the pan.
“Good morning to you, too. Baldr found some pigs in a small clearing nearby last night, so there’s no need to go run through campaign finances again.”
Líf let out a sigh of relief. Next to Thrasir, Noba let out a light chuckle.
“Why don’t you take a seat?” She suggested lightly, gesturing to the tables just outside of the kitchen space. “I’ll go get everyone else. Thrasir, could you bring out the meat when it’s done?”
“Sometimes I forget who’s running this army,” Thrasir commented sarcastically.
“That’s because it’s me. I run this army.” Líf piped up, and Noba laughed again before moving away. Líf stepped aside, allowing Noba to pass into the living quarters behind him, before stepping fully into the kitchen.
It was shockingly clean, considering Thrasir and Noba’s track record of messiness in the kitchen. Only a tray of fresh blueberry jam relayed their routine disorganization.
“How early did you wake up?” Líf questioned incredulously. He had woken up as soon as the sun rose over the horizon, but by then the scent of meat had already begun to permeate the air.
“I didn’t. Baldr came back with the pigs as my shift for night watch was ending, and when we finished butchering and cleaning, there was only a short amount of time left before kitchen duty started so I decided to get a headstart.”
Líf stared at her, his eyes wide, before saying, “Thrasir… I’m going to ask you to have something to eat, and then go to sleep.”
“Líf, I am on kitchen duty.”
“I’ll take over.”
“But—”
“I’m changing that into an order. Have something to eat, and then go to sleep. Don’t make me force your hand.”
“That is called abusing your power, Commander Líf,” Thrasir quipped.
Without a warning, Líf threw her over his shoulder. She yelped, and he felt his heart flutter.
“Líf!” She cried. “You cannot keep doing that!”
“I run this army, so I do what I want,” he responded, and Thrasir tugged at his hair. “Ow.”
“If I promise to eat and then go to sleep, will you let me down?”
“If you promise.”
“I promise, Líf. Have I ever broken a promise?”
In response, he lowered her until she could safely leap back down onto the ground. She brushed a hand through her hair, pushing away stray strands of hair that had fallen in her face before reaching up towards him.
“I hate how tall you are,” she murmured. Carefully, she removed the golden headpiece he wore and smoothed out his hair before placing it back on; he didn’t fail to notice that she took care in ensuring that his bangs framed his face.
“Thank you,” he said, because he did not have the breath nor the heart to say anything else.
“Mhm. If you are going to lead an army, you have to look the part.” She blew out the fire beneath the pans cooking the meat and smiled slightly. “I am going to have some bread and then get some well-needed sleep. Can you serve that?”
“Of course.” He smiled back. “Go get some sleep.”
Thrasir left—he missed her presence as soon as she did—and Noba’s cheerful voice drifted in from outside the kitchen. Moments later, Noba hurried inside, followed by a small group of Heroes. Líf gave them a warm greeting and got to work. Soon, the dining hall tables were lined with plates of meat, bread, and jam.
“Líf,” Artemis greeted. He nodded, taking a seat in front of her. Artemis had been an ally in his campaign to unify Askr for a long time; almost a year, now that he thought about it. Had the gates to Archanea really been closed so long ago? He hoped they would be able to return—to send Artemis home when this war was over.
“How are you?” He asked.
“Good. Homesick at the best.”
A wave of guilt washed over Líf. “I’m sorry.”
“There is no need to apologize. And besides, I have reminders of home here. Trinkets I brought with me… and you, Líf.”
“How so?”
“You remind me of my friend.”
Líf’s eyebrows raised. “Do I?”
Artemis smiled and nodded. “Yes. Always pragmatic… always thinking ahead… he was a true hero. He has saved so many lives.”
Líf cringed slightly. “With all due respect, I do believe your friend is a great deal more heroic than I am.”
“You are selling yourself short, Líf. Your campaign has inspired hope in many others. Why do you think you are revered with awe and hailed as a champion, while six months ago not even two people spared us a glance as we walked through village marketplaces?”
He paused. Artemis smiled.
“People admire you, Líf. More than you could ever imagine. Strangers admire you as a hero, acquaintances admire you as a stalwart person, friends admire you as a steadfast companion… and perhaps some of them admire you as more than a companion.”
He blinked. She smiled melancholically.
“Consider my words,” she said softly. “After all, my friend found love. I am sure you will too, Líf.”
With that melancholic look that constantly haunted Artemis, Líf could not say he was surprised to find she, deep down, cherished love. He wondered if she had been heartbroken before.
Artemis’s words continued to weigh on his heart. He had never thought of love before, had not even experienced it before, he did not think. Perhaps… no, he had. But the world had kept them apart: he with the unification of Askr, and her with her duties as princess.
Even as he sparred with Altina and oversaw the spar between Sety and Athos, he continued to wonder. Artemis… perhaps she was right.
“Watch out!” Sety’s voice broke through his thoughts. Líf started, looking up and jumping out of the way of a blast of cutting wind.
“Careful!” Altina called over the wind, wincing as her hair whipped around in a frenzy.
“Sorry!” Sety apologized. Altina laughed softly, shaking her head.
“That was rather aggressive,” Thrasir commented, and Líf turned around to find her brushing her bangs out of her face. “Good afternoon,” she said, approaching him. He nodded in greeting.
“Good afternoon, princess!” Sety called breathlessly. A circle of fire began to draw itself around his feet, and he dove out of the way. “Athos, you cheat!”
“Stay on your guard, Sety!” The sage chuckled.
“Do you have time to plan out some strategies?” Thrasir asked, pulling at Líf’s wrist. He glanced over at Altina, who nodded.
“Go ahead. I’ll look over these two,” the swordswoman reassured, and Líf thanked her before following after Thrasir, who led him into a spare living quarter. Spread out over the table were multiple maps, already marked.
He stared blankly at the maps, watching as she began to move, circling dangerous areas and drawing out possible routes as she began to explain the possible strategies.
“Líf?” Thrasir asked, noticing his spaced-out look. “Is something wrong?”
He blinked, glancing at her briefly before shaking his head. “No, it’s… it’s nothing.” He turned back to the maps spread out on the table before them. Thrasir set down her quill, taking his wrist and spinning him to face her.
“Líf,” she said sternly.
“It’s nothing, really,” he repeated in an attempt to reassure her. Thrasir simply raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not looking at me,” she noted, and he suddenly became much more interested in his shoes.
“I—” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and slowly glancing up at her.
She met his gaze before crossing her arms, frowning. “Do you not like my company anymore? Is that it?”
“No! It’s the complete opposite—” he cut himself off at the realization of his words. Thrasir blinked. Líf swore and made to turn away. She caught his hand.
“Líf,” she murmured, “that is so unlike you.”
“What is?” He asked breathily.
“Running.” There was a small smile on her lips. “Heroes do not run, my dear.”
Líf felt his face flare with blood, blushing fiercely. Thrasir let out a laugh; the first he had heard in a while. It sounded heavenly. He felt his breath fly out of his lungs.
“I tease.”
“Clearly,” he managed to choke out. “Thrasir…”
“If you were wondering, I, similarly to you, have enjoyed your company since we met, and I can say with full confidence that… I, too, like you.”
He let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding, his shoulders shaking. Thrasir’s hand squeezed his.
“Now you have no reason to run.”
“No, I don’t,” he responded, chuckling. He watched as her face lit up, and felt his own heart warm. His hand slipped out of hers, holding her chin. “May I…?”
She nodded confidently. His lips curled into a small smile, and his eyes fluttered shut.
The world melted away when his lips grazed hers. Her hands curled into fists, clenching tight to his cloak as he pulled away.
“...Again,” she whispered, her voice trembling. He complied happily, cupping her face in his hands. Every time they kissed, they came back for more, and each time it felt like the world had suddenly changed—that it only held him and her.