Work Text:
Pros of using Yggsdrasil: easy transportation to anywhere in the Nine Worlds, even if you can’t always control it.
Cons of using Yggsdrasil: that stupid Squirrel.
Blitzen curses under his breath as he reaches out to grab Hearthstone’s hand while they run down the length of the branch. He can hear the barking somewhere above them. It’s enough to make his head spin, but not enough for Ratatosk’s toxic words to poison his thoughts. He glances over at Hearthstone and, for a brief moment, wonders what would go through Hearthstone’s mind if he could hear the horrendous barking.
A sharp tug at his hand has Blitzen stumbling. He glances up at Hearthstone, who points ahead once he realizes has Blitz’s attention. Unfortunately, they’ve been in this situation before. Blitzen knows exactly what they’re about to do. He takes a deep breath before he and Hearth jump hand-in-hand off branch. The further they fall, the brighter it gets. Hastily, Blitzen makes sure the netting of his helmet is in place. Petrification is the last thing they need right now.
He expects a hard landing. Plowing into the dirt, leaving a dwarf-sized crater in the ground of whatever world they managed to fall into. Instead, it’s like landing on a trampoline. They bounce and bound down a stretch of grass, working out the momentum of their fall. They tumble the last few steps, Blitzen clutching desperately to his hat to make sure it doesn’t fall off.
They finally have to release each others hands as they get to their feet, brushing grass off their clothes. Warily, Blitzen glances around. It’s bright, so blindingly bright he can barely see Hearthstone in front of him. Even through his netting, he can swear he feels his face turning to stone. Cautiously, he slips one of his gloved hands under the covering to feel and check. Nope, still soft.
Blitzen steps closer to Hearthstone, trying to get a read on his expression. Hearthstone’s had a flawless poker face since they met: stoic, expressionless, never giving anything away. The more time he spends around him, the better he can see past it. Right now, there’s nothing to try to decipher.
Hearthstone looks absolutely terrified. We need to go , he signs hurriedly, eyes darting nervously.
Frowning, Blitzen reaches out for him. For his elf to be this bent out of shape, they’d have to be somewhere horrible. His first thought is Helheim, but it’s entirely too bright. What could be so bad-
“Hearthstone!”
Blitzen jumps at the loud booming voice, swinging around to see where it came from. The first thing he registers is the huge, looming mansion, decorated with huge windows. On the steps of what seems to be a back deck stands an almost comically lanky man. There’s nothing comical about the way he holds himself though, his sharp chin raised arrogantly as he regards the figures in his backyard. Obviously, this man knows Hearthstone. But why would he call to him if Hearth’s deaf?
Out the corner of his eye, he sees Hearthstone turn to see what he’s looking at only to go rigid at the sight of the man. Stiffly, almost robotically, Hearth’s hands sign, Hello, Father.
“Father?!” Blitzen repeats, convinced he somehow misread the sign. After Hearthstone appeared in Nidavellir half-dead from using his runes, Blitzen just kind of assumed he was an orphan. Not every day teenage elves go popping around to different worlds. He hadn’t never prodded the issue of family and Hearth had never mentioned it. Still, if this man is Hearth’s dad, it doesn’t explain why he called for him if he knows he can’t hear.
“Yes, dwarf,” the man sneers, glaring at Blitzen haughtily. So far the only thing Blitzen likes about this man is his gray silk suit and polished leather boots. His eyes turn back to Hearthstone and, somehow, seem to turn even colder. “So, you finally decided to return home, you ungrateful child?”
Hearthstone’s bottom lip trembles as his hands start to move. No, accident-
The man waves him off impatiently, almost in irritation. “Right, of course, you cannot communicate in a civilized manner.” The man turns to call over his shoulder. “Inge! Bring a slate here at once!”
It only takes a few moments for a young, cherub looking girl in a bonnet to appear from inside the house, clutching a small whiteboard in her arms. “Yes, Mr. Alderman?” She questions, bowing as she approaches the elf.
“Take that to Hearthstone,” Alderman says coldly, not even bothering to look at the girl as he orders her.
The girl frowns as her eyes drift down to where Hearthstone stands in the grass at the foot of the steps. Her eyes widen before she’s rushing down the stairs, pale blue eyes glittering with excitement. “Mr. Hearthstone, so good to see you again!”
Blitzen blinks at her tone: fond and familiar, even though her words are respectful. Even stranger is the weak smile Hearthstone gives her as he takes the slate from her. It’s like watching a car wreck in slow motion as their fingers brush as they make the exchange. It’s like roses bloomed in Inge’s cheeks, her pale skin taking on a dark crimson tint. It’s all over in the blink of an eye before Inge is turning to look at Blitzen curiously.
“Who are you, sir?”
“I’m Blitzen, son of Freya, and I’m…” he trails off at the panicked look Hearthstone shoots him, frantically shaking his head. Despite himself, Blitzen’s heart sinks a bit at that. Is he not supposed to call Hearthstone his boyfriend? Does Hearthstone not consider them boyfriends? Blitzen sure as hell does.
He and Hearthstone regard each other awkwardly before Alderman gets tired of waiting. “Yes, yes, now continue, son .” The contempt he puts into the word son makes it sound like an insult. His foot taps restlessly. “Today would be nice.”
Hearthstone fumbles with the slate for a moment, awkwardly holding the marker that goes with it. Blitzen winces as he notices Hearthstone’s hands shaking. It’s painful to watch. His feet carry him over to him in just a few strides, close enough to rest his hand comfortingly on Hearth’s arm. Hearthstone flinches at the contact. He glances up at Blitzen, looking more scared and vulnerable and younger than he’s ever seemed before.
“Let’s get out of here,” Blitzen tells him softly.
Nodding, Hearthstone’s eyes dart to his father for a millisecond, knuckles turning white as he clutches the slate. Taking a deep breath, he flings the whiteboard and marker across the yard.
Let’s go,
he signs to Blitzen before waving goodbye to Inge. Blitzen grins, nodding to maid before he and Hearthstone take off running, Alderman’s yells and protests falling on deaf ears.