Chapter Text
The sun has long fallen, and the moon since risen, a great glowing white orb in the black night sky. It stands as his main ally in dispelling the darkness which threatens to consume them otherwise, backed only by the stars--and both stars and moon have proven treacherous before. For additional backup--though unlike the lights in the sky they are not glowing, they are more relevant to his immediate interests--four mighty beings stand before him, each exuding their own form of eminence even if not light.
“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here today…” he begins.
Shiva, wielder of the apocalyptic flame. He possesses the powers of both creation and destruction, nearly a god among gods, yet derives such holy power from the prayers of man.
Europa, the lady of water. The skydwellers treasure her so dearly that they’ve tried to claim her as one of their own, said to have ascended to her primal state by sheer force of her own excellence.
Alexiel, the Godsworn earthen blade. Her sense of good and evil, right and wrong, mirrors his own in being incomparable, but where he was chosen to run among mortals at their worst she has pledged herself to the protection of them at their most righteous.
Alongside Lyria, the girl in blue, the ultimate bridge between primal beasts and the mortal realm.
They’re here before Grimnir, the Dancing Whirlwind, because they are all super awesome, but also because these qualities make them perfect for assisting him with a task of great import.
“Ah… Yeah! I’m really curious!” the girl in blue prompts him when no one else does (she is so nice!).
“I have summoned you four as my allies, for support that only you could be trusted to give. I find myself ensnared in a great battle--a task of such magnitude lies before me that even I, the Mad Cyclone, hesitate to approach it alone. My winds are all-powerful, and yet helpless as a single breath in this particular task. Where you four will surely triumph, others would tremble before the might of such a mission, one that could threaten to rend both heaven and earth alike!”
“What do you need help with?” Europa asks sweetly.
“Ah, ahem.” Grimnir clears his throat, then rubs the back of his neck. “I want to do something really special for the singularity.”
“Oh!”
“Ah.”
“I see.”
“And you seek our consult in the matter?” Grimnir nods eagerly at Alexiel’s question.
“Yeah, of course I do! You guys know what you’re doing.”
“Do we?” she asks again. She looks to the young girl beside her for similar support.
“Shiva and I have each taken mortal lovers in the past,” Europa explains to the both of them. “Though it has been some time for me, I imagine that’s why Grimnir has sought us two specifically.”
“But I want you here too, Alexiel!” Grimnir insists. “You always know how to best help the skydwellers--your council will be vital to my success! And you too, Girl in Blue! You know the singularity better than anyone. Your consult has always been invaluable to me!"
“Anytime!” Lyria replies brightly. “I’ll do whatever I can to help out!”
“Then I too shall give it my all,” says Alexiel with firmer resolve.
“I must ask what makes you so keen on seeking such assistance, Grimnir. You yourself have taken children of man as consorts before now.” Shiva raises an eyebrow. “Or so it was my understanding.”
“I have, but this is different. Not that I didn’t l-love my past consorts, but I’ve grown up a lot since then and I…” His voice stumbles over one particular word as it escapes him sooner than he intended. “I-I mean, I--ehh--I--Aaaaaah…. I, y-you know!” He’s too surprised at himself to keep his tongue from tying itself into a fancy knot, the kind that sailors use to secure the sails to their ships so that they may catch the wind. Keeping with the metaphor, his face is as red as the sky before the tempest and every bit as hot. He buries it into his palms, whining in embarrassment and excitement in equal amounts--that’s right, he is excited! Just nervous too! He’s been agonizing over it for days, but he hasn’t said it out loud before now.
Europa claps her hands together. “How lovely. Grimnir is in love.”
Lyria gasps, radiating delight. “Grimnir! Do you really love Djeeta?”
“I… Well, I really like her,” he manages to say, and then startles when Lyria advances menacingly.
“Do you like her, or do you love her?”
“I love her! I do, I love her with my whole heart! My soul cries out for--”
“ Ahhhhh! ” The rest of his confession is drowned out by the squealing the girl in blue dissolves into while she throws her arms around Grimnir.
“What a joyous occasion!” cheers Alexiel, clapping him so firmly on the back that she nearly knocks both of them over.
“Yeah…” He finally lowers his hands again. “Thanks. I’m really, really happy. That’s why it’s so important to me to do something to show her how I really feel.”
“Hm.” Shiva thoughtfully touches his chin. “I would have expected you to embrace the opportunity to use your poetry. Such an occasion calls for it.”
“Make no mistake, I’ve come up with a few things.” He’s filled about three notebooks with ideas, actually, and he’s three-quarters of the way through a fourth. “But she hears my epic speeches all the time. Something like this needs something more. Words alone aren’t enough to express my feelings the way I want to.” The other disciples are now staring at him, and not in the way that shows that they’re mesmerized by his turns of phrase. “Um. Did I say something weird?”
His question is met with laughter.
“H-Huh?”
“Strange only for you,” says Shiva with a confusingly knowing smile.
“You really have grown up, haven’t you, Grimnir,” follows Europa, whom Grimnir follows next with a flustered frown.
“A-Are you patronizing me? I’m being serious here!”
“No, it’s a good thing,” she reassures him. “Come then, let’s work together. I’ll make some tea.”
With that, his fears evaporate. He can feel his own eyes sparkling as he beams at his friends in eager anticipation of the machinations-to-be. But first--”Wait one moment!” He waves before Europa can disappear. “We can’t risk discussing this anywhere where word might reach the singularity. We must convene away from the Grandcypher, where our words will blend into the night and go unnoticed. Heh…” He grins to his companions. “It so happens that I scouted just the place on yesterday’s eve… We’ll still get drinks, though!”
“Lead the way and we shall follow,” says Alexiel.
“But one more thing before we go!” Grimnir throws out his arms again before anyone can move, ushering them back to rapt silence. “On that same note, before we go forth I must demand that an oath be made among us. An oath of silence to be unbroken. I’m going to bare my heart to you guys, so you can’t tell a soul about this, okay? No matter what! I won’t risk that somehow the singularity will find out about this--be it by accident or treachery. Not that our friends are treacherous,” he breaks character to add quickly, “but, you know, just to be safe. Nobody can let it slip, not one bit. Promise me this.”
It is not until they’ve sworn to him their silence (he considered asking for proof in blood but the idea of Lyria being hurt was too awful even for something as serious as this), do they set forth. Two towns over they convene in the back of a restaurant as its patronage dies down to the evening embers (most people have left already, but the owner gave them his blessing after nearly crumbling at the sight of four demigods and a small girl). The table at which they sit is lit only by a thin string of lights across the awning overhead. They’ve each a drink (water or tea), including a small dish for Nagaraja. “Express your thoughts first to us, Grimnir,” the serpent’s master begins, “so that we may offer our guidance. You have fallen in love with the singularity. In what manner do you wish to express this, if not in words?”
“That’s what I need help with. I don’t struggle with words, especially when I have time to prepare them, but it’s not just a matter of saying the word ‘love’, you know?” He’s mulled this over for infinite hours and all mulling has led him back to this conclusion. “It’s important for me to find some way to really show how I feel. I want to do something with real significance. I don’t just love her, I’m in love…” He giggles nervously, covering half his face with his hand. “I can’t believe I keep saying it. I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love…”
Lyria’s smile brightens a little more every time the L-word leaves him. “Were you thinking something cute like a special gift? Something just for her?” she asks. He shakes his head.
“No, that’s not good enough either! That’d be a sweet gesture, but not the kind with the oomph I’m looking for. I want to take some sort of step forward--” He gestures as such with his hands. “Something that shows her that I’m committed to what we have together. Does that make sense?”
“Oh! Yeah, it does!” says Lyria. “Some kind of big relationship milestone to mark your progress--is that right?”
“Right! But I don’t know enough about skydwellers’ customs to come up with something that would be as meaningful to her as I want it to be.”
Now Lyria looks puzzled. “But, I thought you said you’ve been with other mortals before?”
“It is as you say,” replies Shiva. “Though we have connected with many children of man throughout the centuries, only since meeting this crew have we begun to engage in the customs you would share among yourselves.”
“Huh…” The expression on her face no longer bright, more blank with a shade of concern, but before Grimnir can ask what’s wrong Alexiel chimes in much more vibrantly.
“You have already participated in the rituals of Valentine’s Day and White Day, have you not?”
“Yes!” he chirps, setting his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. “The Singularity was soooo cute on Valentine's Day. I surprised her with special chocolates I made just for her. She said they 'blew her away.' White Day made her smile so much too--I wish I could do something like that without any prompting.” The memory gives him butterflies even though being caught off-guard had put a dent in his cool persona. It’s hard to come up with clever words when someone you love--did he love her then? That may have been the moment, or at least a step in the right direction. When someone you love surprises you with something so sweet it’s hard to stay cool. His next course of action has to render her speechless too, in a way he’s never done before.
His rambling chain of thoughts is interrupted by a firm thump on the table by Alexiel’s fist. “Aha! Then perhaps you should perform the important mortal rite of becoming ‘engaged’!”
Lyria’s glass nearly slips out of her hands. “ Engaged? ” The phrase in this context is somewhat familiar to Grimnir, but he’s lacking in details. The enthusiasm with which Alexiel speaks and the gasps with which the girl in blue responds bode well for the concept. He eagerly leans in.
Alexiel continues with pride in her voice: “It is my understanding that mortals who wish to solidify their bond will exchange rings to symbolize their connection to one another.”
An important rite that is decidedly underwhelming. Grimnir sighs. “I told the girl in blue that I need something more impressive than a gift.”
“This will be no ordinary gift.”
“Y-yeah! It’s--”
“Once the rings have been exchanged,” Alexiel goes on to say before Lyria can get a word in, “the act is followed by a ceremony in which the two confess their feelings before their closest companions and have them affirmed by someone of official rank, such as a religious leader or the captain of a ship. In this way they are sworn to one another alone.”
Now he lights right up. “Nevermind, that sounds really cool and official!”
“I can think of no better way to prove your devotion than this,” she finishes.
“We do have many devout parishioners among us,” Shiva nods along. “As well as our own captain. Would the singularity be capable of officiating this rite for herself?”
“Perhaps Rackam could stand in her place? He is the helmsman,” offers Europa. “Or perhaps Noa, the shipwright?”
Before they can follow that lead any further the girl in blue is on her feet and hitting the table even harder than Alexiel did. “Umm! I don’t think you guys realize how serious that would be!”
“What do you mean? Something serious is what I’m looking for.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t even said ‘I love you’ yet!”
“That’s what I thought this was about, girl in blue--this sounds like the very thing I’ve been seeking!” he replies in earnest.
Though she’s tugging at her dress in that anxious way she often does, her voice is firm. “Getting engaged means you’re ready to get married.”
Oh. He has heard of this ‘marriage’ before, the most sacred rite of the mortal romance. Marriage is for people ready to ‘settle down’ in one place, which a skyfaring crew like theirs has no intention of doing--and even if they were, ‘settling down’ means children and babies, things that primal beasts are incapable of providing. He’d like to remain some distance away from confronting that openly.
“You can’t get engaged right now. Even if you’re in love you haven’t been together for very long yet. There are a bunch of smaller things you have to do first, like tell her you love her, or even just… you know, start calling her by her name instead of ‘Singularity’.”
That knocks aside all thoughts of marriage--the problem may be bigger than any one specific event. “Hang on, I have to do certain things before--have I been doing things out of order? There’s an order? Things go in?” The more he talks, the less grip he has on his tone of voice.
“Well, it’s more like a set of conditions you have to meet before you can move onto the next stage, but basically yes!”
He hadn’t even considered that! Foolish Grimnir! Of course there is!
“Perhaps then you should simply… engage in combat, in some loving manner…” Alexiel mumbles, her face reddening.
“We already did that too!”
“Child of man.” The one in question turns to the god of destruction upon being addressed. “You spoke of using her name. What significance does such a gesture hold? I would guess that Grimnir’s words are to reassure her that he sees her powers as comparable to his own.”
Grimnir snaps back to attention. “Oh, good point!” He’s glad he brought friends to catch the important details. “I don’t want her to feel lesser than me just because I’m a god--and I definitely don’t want her to think I see her that way! That’s why I call her ‘Singularity’.”
“But she knows you respect her,” she insists regardless. “You’ve shown her how much you respect her. Now you should show her that you care more about being close to her than you do about her powers.”
“I don’t--i-it’s not just about her powers, girl in blue,” he stammers, growing more and more anxious as the reality of the situation unravels. “Of course it’s not. It’s just, it’s hard to explain but…”
Europa’s soothing voice interrupts the developing panic. “I understand Lyria’s point of view. Gabriel asking me to refer to her by name despite being my teacher does make me feel closer to her than I would if I were only to call her ‘master’ or ‘primarch’.”
“I can attest to the same,” Alexiel says with correctly-placed confidence this time. “Master Uriel is, er, somewhat more informal than I, but I agree that referring to him by name makes me feel as though he recognizes me as an individual of importance to him.”
He can follow their line of thinking, though it feels foreign to him. His own master referring to him by name always reminds Grimnir that he’s his student, not his equal, but the context of his relationship to the wind primarch is nothing like the context of his relationship with Djeeta.
“There have been, and are, other singularities,” Europa continues. “It isn’t the role of Singularity that you love, but Djeeta herself, isn’t it?”
“I love Djeeta.” Saying her name out loud feels surprisingly intimate, which means the girls are probably right. “Then…” Grimnir gulps. “Have I been doing the opposite of what I wanted to do this entire time?”
“Do you find my conduct disrespectful as well?” Shiva asks. “My impulse is the reverse of Grimnir’s--my power is drawn from the prayers of the people. Such speech is my way of distinguishing between our roles. I derive no such power from other primal beasts, you see.”
“It’s not as simple as being respectful or not,” Lyria answers. “Although, um, Shiva, we know you care about us because you live with us and you’re our friend, but you still see yourself as a god among skydwellers, don’t you?”
“So I said.”
“But even if we’re the source of your power, you’re the god in this situation, so when you call us ‘children of man’ it feels like there’s a wall between us instead of a connection, if that makes sense… Not like you see us as being on your level.”
Shiva and Nagaraja both eye her carefully for a moment, but the four-armed god and his zero-armed companion ultimately defer to the young girl. “I still have much to learn about the ways of man. Very well. I, too, shall work to alter my patterns of speech to reflect my respect. As the covenant of brothers of Lowain have instructed me, I seek to become a ‘homie’ or ‘bruh’ to my fellow crewmates.”
“Ah… ahaha…” Lyria laughs awkwardly. “That still sounds really weird coming from you, so I’ve got walls to lower, too.” The smile on her face fades to gloom once more as she returns to the topic at hand, however. “But, speaking of that, I was kind of wondering… If you’re having so much trouble thinking of ways to express your feelings to someone who’s human, then, your other mortal lovers…?” She leaves the question unsaid, but the sentiments reach all four of the present primals.
Shiva dons a somewhat embarrassed smile. “Though I have been truly fond of these children of man, I have never been with one with whom I would invoke the rite of becoming engaged. Ours have never been relationships among equals.”
“I can admit to the same,” says Europa more softly than before. “I have enjoyed their company, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I have enjoyed their adoration. Even with Gabriel’s encouragement, it’s only since joining the Grandcypher’s crew that I’ve come to long for real connections to you mortals.” She adds a little sigh. “Perhaps we were not the best to come to for advice after all.”
Alexiel looks down into the ice in her glass, her thoughtful expression mirrored throughout the many facets. “I have dedicated my life to protecting the weak… by which I mean protecting mortals, mostly. By that same state of mind I would have found the affections of one to be laughable before I came to this Grandcypher. Even if we seek to do what’s right, or protect one another in our own ways, gods and mortals do not tend to see one another as equals.”
“Worship and adoration are unakin to being loved.” Nagaraja leans around with a squeak of serpentine concern for his master, who gently pets the snake under its jaw. “Their similarities are superficial. What Grimnir seeks is a connection of two hearts, not mere mutual fondness.”
“That’s exactly what I want,” Grimnir himself finally speaks again. “Even if I’m better now, I’m not guiltless of acting like that before either.” The intrigue and respect, and even the fear, that mortals feel toward the god of war have earned him plenty of favors across the centuries, but thinking back on that now leaves Grimnir disquieted. But dwelling on old mistakes can only take him so far--it’s the oncoming future, still within his control, that is so crucial. “I don’t want that for the sing--er, for Djeeta. She’s no mere consort to a god, she’s my girlfriend. Even with all the pizzazz about my holy and accursed powers and her command over destiny, being with her makes me feel normal, and I actually like it that way.”
Another ripple of quiet surprise passes around the table, before Europa reprises her earlier sentiments with a shake of her head and a smile: “To think that Grimnir has become the most mature of all of us.”
“You say that like it’s a surprise!” He huffs. “But, thanks, I think. I’m not just blowing hot air--I truly mean this, and I don’t want her to doubt it at all. Whether that means calling her ‘Singularity’ or ‘Djeeta’ or whatever else I might need to say, I want to know how to show her how I feel. So, thank you.”
Lyria brightens again, her smile a ray of light in this darkened atmosphere, though her words are still colored by the mood. “It makes sense you’d want to be sure she knows it isn’t like that for you… If it makes you feel any better, I think I know why you used to be that way. A weapon has no reason to have friends or family, do they? Back before Katalina rescued me I never tried to connect with people either...”
Therein lies the heart of the matter, able to be illuminated only by the mortal-primal bridge that Lyria represents. To the Astrals that created him, Grimnir was never a ‘god of war’. That designation was bestowed upon him by the skydwellers. The Astrals created him to be a weapon of war, and being reminded of it so frankly is a dose of humility he hasn’t had in a while. It’s a little bit of a relief, too, since it isn’t a surprise that he and the others have had trouble integrating themselves into mortal society, but it’s no excuse for bad behavior, either. It’s Grimnir’s own responsibility to work harder, follow the examples of those who came to the crew before him, and most importantly follow Lyria’s guidance right now. With that in mind, his smile is reinvigorated.
She smiles back more sincerely now herself. “What’s important is that you’re on the right track now, so I’ll do everything I can to help, for you and for Djeeta!”
“Great! Thank you so, so much, girl in blue! Er, I mean, Lyria. Should we call you Lyria too?”
“Yes please! I’m your friend, right?”
“Without a doubt! Thanks, Lyria!” He’s twice as glad now that he asked Lyria for her help. She’s not only the best-informed, she’s the best of all of them. “But getting back to why we’re here, saying ‘I love you’ and using her name, that’s still nothing but words, and not particularly dramatic ones even if they’re meaningful. I feel like regaling her with an epic scene in which I highlight why they’re important will just bring attention to the fact that I haven’t been saying them…” Not that he isn’t going to come up with one, he totally is, but that’s beside the point. “Are there any other important mortal romance rituals for me to participate in between those things and our, er, maybe someday possible future… future stuff.” He stops short of actually bringing up ‘the rite of becoming engaged’ again.
“Let me think…” She crosses her arms before her evermore eager audience. “You’ve already been through some major holidays together, including ones specifically for expressing your feelings. You’ll definitely have to do something special on your first anniversary, but that has a specific date, too.”
“Anything that I can do at my own pace? I want to show her how I feel as soon as I can.”
“Um…” Despite her firm declarations, Lyria’s fount of ideas seems to be slowing to a bit of a trickle. “Um, well, there’s your first kiss, but you did that already. You’ve been on dates, you’ve held hands, and I’ve seen you coming out of her room in the morning so I think you’ve probably cuddled.”
Shiva and Europa both laugh while Grimnir waves them both off to try and stifle it so Lyria can keep going.
“You’ve done pretty much everything I can think of that a new couple would go through and you’re still together, which is good...”
His smile falters once more. “So all I have now is words?” Again, in any other case that would be perfect for someone so suited to poetic prose, but half of poetry is placement. Without something to back up his claims, he may as well be at a loss for words.
“No, I’m sure there’s more! Um, well, usually the next big thing would be something like introducing her to your parents, because that means that you want them to see her as part of your family.”
“Surely Djeeta is aware that primal beasts are created, not born?” Alexiel asks, her own concerns becoming evident.
“Djeeta herself has no parents,” Shiva adds, though Lyria quickly corrects him.
“She has a dad! He’s somewhere in Estalucia at the end of the sky. But Grimnir couldn’t just introduce himself to Djeeta’s dad, either. That’s not how it goes.”
As directionless frustration wells within him, Grimnir plonks his head onto the table. “Gah, and I feel like that would be perfect if I could do it! It sounds like a really big, official step that I would have to choose to make.”
“And a meaningful one,” Europa agrees. “Family is very important to humans. If it were possible, such a gesture would prove that you consider her worthy of being part of yours.”
“But I don’t even have a family for her to be a part of.” And he’s becoming aware of the gravity of that fact. Primal beasts don’t have children, so of course they don’t have parents. One begets the other by necessity. No matter how much time he and Djeeta spend together, no matter how close they become, even if Djeeta inducts him into her own family at some point in this lifetime she’ll do so with the knowledge that she won’t be gaining one back from Grimnir. Will she be okay with that when--if?--the time comes? He groans his aching spirit into the tabletop. “We’ve gotten nowhere. If anything, we’re worse off now than when we started. I really thought we were… Maybe this is a sign from the heavens that I’m not ready for this...” What was once the tempest incarnate is now more like a piddling breeze blowing so pathetically that even the most sweltering person standing in its path would probably rather there be no breeze at all.
But just when all hope seems lost, Lyria jumps up again. “Wait, I got it! We’re forgetting the obvious answer here!” Grimnir peels his face up off the table. “Maybe you don’t have parents, but you still have someone in your life who’s really important to you and has helped you grow as a person, don’t you?”
Does he?
“Maybe he can help!”
He? Oh. Oh dear.
His rapidfire mind is zeroing in on what she’s trying to imply.
She can’t be serious. The girl in blue, whose beck and call can summon primal beasts from afar, whose will commands them to appear at her side, can’t possibly be about to call out the name of--
“Raphael!” Grimnir’s core nearly collapses in on itself in fear that the clouds will part and the wind primarch will drop down onto them. “Do you think he would…” She trails off at the looks on the faces of the disciples, and the awkward squirming of Raphael’s specifically.
“I believe they are already acquainted,” Shiva says carefully.
“But there’s a difference between meeting someone and being officially introduced to them as a family member! It could still work!”
“Lyria,” Europa begins gently, “It’s a wonderful idea in concept. If I were to introduce a mortal lover to Gabriel I’m certain that she would be delighted both at my good fortune and at the fact that I would consider her important enough to be introduced as family. I’m speaking of Gabriel specifically, though.”
“I imagine Master Uriel would be very enthusiastic about any relationship I were to introduce him to, for a few reasons, but…”
“Our sense of kinship with each primarch is unique to each of us. Though it may be well known that the primarch of flames is considerably fond of mortals, the primarch of the winds is notoriously…”
“‘Strict,’ if you will,” puts Europa politely.
“That is to say…” Alexiel searches for a similarly polite turn of phrase, but Grimnir collapses onto the table again to spare her.
“The wind primarch would laugh at me if I asked him to do something like that.”
“Nonsense,” says Europa, gently patting his hair. “I have never seen Master Raphael laugh before. He’s more likely to ignore you.”
Furrowing her brow, Alexiel offers, “I know we have already agreed that referring to her as ‘the singularity’ is something that must be phased out, but perhaps if you were to temporarily emphasize her role to the wind primarch he would take your request more seriously? Fate itself may hang in the balance.”
An entirely new problem hangs now before Grimnir. The faint chill in the night air feels balmy compared to the ice settling into his stomach. “Ah, about that…” He drums his fingers on the table, stuck once again on finding the right turn of phrase. “Um, so, uh, I might’ve…” His voice is muffled by being pressed into a flat surface, but it would’ve been hard to comprehend his muttering anyway.
Lyria leans a little closer. “Grimnir…?”
He tilts his head to the side. “It’s just, er… You know, it took the wind primarch a really long time to agree to let me board the Grandcypher to study alongside the singularity in the first place, and he didn’t want people to know that he sent me, either, so I haven’t exactly gotten around to…” The volume of his voice drops steadily as his confidence wanes. He begins to slide from the table down into the chair. “To telling him that Djeeta and I are…”
The silence that befalls them now is even more awkward than the one that came from Lyria’s initial suggestion.
“Fear not, God of War.” Shiva claps him on the shoulder. “When the truth reaches him, I shall see to it that your body is taken by flame and your spirit allowed to ascend to the next life.”
He bolts upright again. “H-He wouldn’t kill me!” Would he? No he wouldn’t--Europa is right, he’ll be lucky if Raphael even laughs at him, because at least then Grimnir will have done something that entertained him. But now that he thinks about it, when he finds out that Grimnir and Djeeta are a couple--Grimnir’s voice becomes shrill and almost incomprehensibly fast as he relays the new ideas as they fill his head--”I-I haven’t told him yet because I haven’t found a good time for it but maybe he’ll be proud, you know? I never thought about it this way before but it’s like Alexiel said! His studious ward who trained so fiercely to impress him impressed the singularity so well that she’s fallen in love with him!” He really hopes Djeeta loves him too. “Maybe he’ll think that’s pretty cool!”
“Do you think so?” asks Europa.
He hangs his head in defeat.
“But that makes this even more perfect!” maintains Lyria in spite of the negative reception. “This is your opportunity to tell Raphael about you and Djeeta--you really will be introducing your girlfriend to him!” She’s not wrong, but that doesn’t make the idea any less nerve-wracking. “I’ve met Raphael too, remember? He’s a little cold, but I’ve seen him smile. I’ve seen him laugh, even,” she says to Europa specifically. “Once or twice at least. He’s not so bad…”
“No, he isn’t bad at all! I have nothing but the utmost respect for the wind primarch,” Grimnir explains. “But our perspectives don’t always align… Our personalities are pretty different, and unlike the earth primarch he doesn’t always see that as a good thing. Your relationship with him is totally different from the one we have. He’s not expecting a whole lot from you…” Not that he seems to expect Grimnir to deliver on his expectations very often either, says the sinking feeling in his chest.
But the circumstances seem to have awoken something in Lyria. The more they reject her, the more fiercely she pushes back. Her fists are clenched with determination and there’s a fire in her eyes that he can’t help but feel a little cornered by. “Well, things are changing for all of you. What mattered before doesn’t matter now, especially since you’re trying to all live normal lives. If Raphael wants to live as a person instead of a primarch he’s going to have to learn to enjoy things like spending time with friends and family.”
Lyria… has a point there, though Grimnir isn’t sure if he should be agreeing with it.
“And besides that, even if he acts prickly towards you sometimes, he wouldn’t have taken you on as a disciple if he didn’t respect you.” She stops, blinks, then asks, “He did accept you as a disciple, right?”
“He did.” Grimnir shakes off Shiva’s solemn hand. “Which is something I’ll always be proud of, but also why I’m nervous about making him change his mind.”
Lyria shoots a piercing gaze right through him. “That’s not the Grimnir I know.” Her hands come down on the table again, rattling every glass on it. “You’re the Dancing Whirlwind--the Mad Cyclone! It’s time for you to step up and be the Madly-in-Love-With-Djeeta Cyclone! Or… have you just been playing a character this whole time?”
“O-Of course I’m not just playing a character!” The accusation, the audacity , to say such a thing to the god of war is nigh unfathomable. In times long past none would dare suggest that he might be playing up his powers and persona (well, they would have, but they would’ve gone on to regret it). But these are not those olden days, which is the whole point of what they’re doing right now. Lyria is no fool consumed by her own hubris—she’s one hundred percent right. Confronting this truth leaves him appalled at himself. With Lyria’s encouragement, his true self, locked away inside him under these worries, bursts forth anew. “You… You’re right!” He finds his own fists raised, matching hers. “I’m the holy warrior of the twilight, the tempest god whose right arm contains such unfathomable power as to be restrained with all confines imaginable! I am--” He’s standing in the chair now. “ GRIIIIIIIIIIIIIMNIR! ” A man leans out the window and tells him to get off the chair so he does but it doesn’t inhibit his wild tempestuous energy in the slightest. “But this isn’t even about me--this is for Djeeta. If I’m not willing to put my own pride on the line to make her happy, then I don’t deserve to be with her in the first place!”
With his rambunctious attitude restored, the mood around the table rises on the wind. Alexiel stands beside him, also pounding the table with renewed vigor. “Yes! You have never been one for cowardice in the face of danger. Your indomitable spirit mustn’t falter in this matter of the heart, either!”
“Please stop hitting the table,” Europa says softly. “We’re going to be asked to leave.”
“Er, excuse me.”
“Sorry.”
“Sorry, Europa…”
But she smiles and offers some pleased applause. “But yay for you, Grimnir. Gabriel would suggest we celebrate with red beans and rice. But to honor the circumstances, should we find something more human to do?”
“We shall reward your success by making it ‘lit’,” adds Shiva, raising his glass. “That, I know, is a common tradition within the celebrations of children of man.”
“Right! Awesome! But, ah,” Grimnir sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “Let’s save the celebration until after I’ve made some real progress here.”
It’s going to be an arduous task, a seemingly insurmountable endeavor that he must embark on. But for Djeeta, Grimnir has moved mountains. Slain beasts that would make other men quake in fear. He can, at the very least, summon the resolve necessary to ask Raphael for a favor.