Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Alex,” Magnus called to him from his spot on Alex’s bed. He was positioned where his feet rested against the wall and his head hung upside down off the edge. His hair was getting a bit long, draping down like a gilded curtain. This was Magnus in Thinking Mode, when he contemplated Serious Business. Alex imagined it was because he finally supplied his brain with the proper amount of oxygen.

“What’s up?” he responded, carefully putting down the figure he was painting. It was akin to a canine, but with longer, noodly humanoid limbs and a wider grin. It lounged pleasantly with one arm propping it up, baring all its teeth and lolling tongue. Magnus called it “cute…”, which meant he had no idea what he was looking at. Presently, Alex was giving it a brilliant, multi-colored coat of bright yellow and blue enamel paint.

“Um,” Magnus righted himself and shuffled to prop himself on top of Alex’s pillows. “Are we dating?”

The boy stared at him. Then he stared some more. Magnus knew it was probably a stupid question, but the longer Alex looked at him in open silence the dumber he felt.

The child of Loki opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. He blinked. “Wait. Are we?” He turned fully to face Magnus. “Are we a thing ? Are we an item ?”

“I don’t know!” Magnus shouted, now sitting up fully. “That’s why I was asking you!”

“Hold on. Oh my gods, hold on,” Alex held his hands out placatingly. He looked more amused than anything. “We definitely kissed.”

“ Yeah… ” Magnus agreed.

“…” Alex thought. “How does one… begin dating, actually.” It was more of a statement than a question. Nonetheless, Magnus tried to answer. 

“I guess- you just- ask? If you want to start dating?”

“Hm,” Alex rubbed his chin contemplatively. 

Magnus sat quietly. 

“Well?” Alex asked.

“Well what?”

“Are you gonna ask me?” It seemed like all that precious blood was draining out of his skull now. Bummer.

Why don’t you ask me ? Magnus did not say. Honestly, he was scared. What if he said no?

“Okay, Fierro,” Magnus braced himself the way Percy taught him to jump into the ice-cold Boston harbor. “Will you date me?”

Alex rested his chin in his palm, propping his bony elbow against the table. He seemed to be unconsciously mimicking his smaller creation. His eyes glittered with mirth. “Sure, bud.”

“Awesome,” Magnus breathed a sigh of relief.

Alex barked out a laugh. “‘ Awesome ’? That’s it?”

“Well-!” Magnus grabbed a pillow to himself self-consciously. He almost threw it at the other demigod, but considered the damage it could do to Alex’s figurine and paints. “Well, it is,” he mumbled. He missed Alex looking away, hiding his grin behind his palm.

“Okay, now that we’re an item, what now?”

“Now we do couple stuff, like a couple,” the son of Frey elaborated. “We hold hands and cuddle and kiss .”

“We’ve already done all that stuff,” Alex interjected, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He swiped away the comment with a wave of his hand. “What makes it different now? The fact that we just basically signed a verbal contract?”

“I- I don’t really know. Maybe it feels different or something now.”

Wordlessly, Alex got up, abandoning his art for the moment, and sauntered to where Magnus sat clutching his pillow. He loosely rested his forearms against his now-boyfriend’s shoulders while Magnus just stared like a deer in the headlights. He looked so goofy like that, it made Alex smirk. He would have laughed aloud if it didn’t have the potential to utterly ruin the moment.

Then he leaned down, and they kissed. That was it. Alex’s lips were pretty soft, Magnus supposed. For a brief moment, he felt some butterflies flutter around in his stomach, and then they quickly petered out. There was no fire, no passion in it at all, but there was warmth welling up. A dim glow like an old porch light. Or maybe it was just the heat from each other’s faces.

It was… okay .

Alex pulled away and looked into his eyes. Magnus looked back.

That’s it ? They both thought to themselves.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Alex remarked.

“You said that before,” Magnus huffed, “and I was actually shirtless that time.”

“Oh, you’re so right,” he snarked back. “Take your shirt off and let’s try again.”

“ Ha ha , no thanks.” Honestly, the fact that Alex was still encircling his shoulders with his lanky arms was making his insides twist more than the kiss itself. It was weird. “Well, if it’s any consolation to you, you kiss better than a goat.”

“That’s not entirely fair. I haven’t kissed you as a goat before.”

“Uh, hard pass,” Magnus shuddered a bit at the memory. “I dunno, maybe we should talk to Mallory and Halfborn about this or something.”

“Right, because they are the pinnacle of a healthy relationship.” Alex retorted. “I’d rather ask Samirah.” He was still holding him, his fingers rested lightly on his upper back. It was making his skin crawl in a not-entirely-unpleasant way. “What’s with that look, Chase?”

“Huh? Nothing. What look? I’m fine,” Magnus blinked up at him. The other demigod quirked an eyebrow. Magnus liked watching the way his face scrunched up- when he was laughing, or concentrating, or clueless.

“We could try cuddling?” Magnus offered with an uncertain shrug.

Alex made a face like he was trying to chew off his own tongue. Magnus’ own expression was a similar reflection.

“Uh, I’m kind of in the middle of something,” the child of Loki looked back at his art project. Magnus could feel him move one of his hands to point behind his back, which in itself seemed quite pointless.

“Yeah, I get that.”

It was a silent mutual understanding that the two of them didn’t really do physical contact most of the time. Magnus got enough human intimacy from having to repair his friends’ bodies from the inside out every day. Before that, when he was alive, just being around people was a lot. Some unsavory encounters during homelessness only solidified that sentiment. By what he gleaned from Alex’s memories and words, he seemed to share that point of view.

It was funny that the two of them could even stand to hold each other’s hand, much less kiss. They were like two sides of a magnet clicking into place.

“What… is it, actually,” Magnus chose to divert the conversation. He never really understood when Alex rambled about his art, but he liked seeing Alex get genuinely enthusiastic about something. The demigod’s eyes glittered and his mouth curled upwards as he proceeded to unravel the intricacies behind his artistic process. Not for the first time, Magnus wished he was as creatively-inclined, then maybe he could capture even a fragment of Alex for himself. Maybe it was for the best he stay perpetually amorphous, though. To Alex, being bound, tethered, or stifled was a fate worse than death, of which he already had his fair share.

After that, nothing really changed.

They ate meals together, fought mock-battles together, played video games and watched movies, sat in each other’s rooms, browsed the Valhalla Ikea, helped out at The Chase Space, and so on. It was like this for a few monotonous weeks before any of their floormates said anything. Inevitably, it was Halfborn who stated the obvious.

“You two are dating, right?” He inquired as he shoveled scrambled eggs into his mouth. Mallory said something about not talking while he ate.

“Sure,” Alex brushed off, cutting neatly through her stack of chocolate-chip pancakes.

“You sure don’t act like it,” TJ shot back, dipping his hardtack into his cup of black coffee. At least he was trying new things.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alex challenged. “Is there a way I need to act now? Am I somehow a different person?”

“Hey, do whatever you want,” the soldier sipped from his drink nonchalantly. Alex went back to sawing at her plate. Magnus quietly looked between his friend group and unfortunately caught Mallory’s eyes. She gave him a look he used to get from teachers that said, well, have anything to say for yourself, young man ?

“I really don’t know what you want, Mack,” he answered honestly with a shrug.

“Passion! Drama! Zeal!” Halfborn emphasized by pounding on the table. It made all the plates rattle in a deafening chorus. TJ picked up his cup to keep it from spilling. “Where are the arguments? The heartfelt confessions? The monologues ?”

Alex grimaced at the berserker’s display. “We’re not a reality TV show.”

“I can only reread Shakespeare so many times,” Halfborn lamented, deflating as much as someone of his stature physically could.

“No accounting for taste,” Mallory muttered. They then proceeded to argue about the Bard of Avon’s playwright merits. Magnus and Alex watched with exasperation, then looked at each other. Was that what they had to look forward to in the coming years?

“I think we should take a break,” Alex told him.

“It hasn’t even been a month,” Magnus protested weakly.

“Yeah, but,” he trailed off, looking up then down and sighing. He was standing in Magnus’ entryway, not entirely within or without the room. It was enough privacy to keep the conversation between the two demigods, but enough distance that he could leave after saying his piece.

“I don’t know. ‘Break’ is a weird word. Can we just stop this ‘dating’ thing, for now?” Alex finally looked at his face. “Let’s just go back to the way it was. Everyone keeps putting this pressure on me, and I don’t like it.”

Oh , well that wasn’t too bad. Magnus could understand that. His friends kept looking at him weirdly, giving him playful nudges, asking him silly questions about Alex. It made him uncomfortable, too. 

“Oh, okay.” As long as Alex didn’t hate him, he was fine.

It still kind of stung, though.

Alex’s shoulders relaxed, and her face loosened up. It wasn’t a smile, but the relief was apparent. “Thanks. I just- need to think about it.”

“No, I get it.” So why were his insides bunching up so terribly? 

“Actually, is it gonna be awkward between us now?” He just had to ask.

Alex tilted her head. “Not unless you make it awkward. In which case, you’d have no problem,” she grinned at him a bit. He gave a half-hearted glare back.

“Annabeth help,” Magnus stated, clambering his way through her window.

“I would ask how you got here, but first of all take off your shoes,” Annabeth replied. She deftly paused her study music and turned to give him a very unimpressed look. Magnus sat on the sill and pulled off his dirty, worn sneakers, then stood awkwardly before his cousin. This was not the first time he broke into her UC Berkeley dormitory, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

“I need your help,” he reiterated, “with Alex.”

“ Ohhh ?” She perked right up at the mention of her name.

“I think she dumped me.”

“ Ohhhhh ,” Annabeth deflated a bit. “Sorry about that.”

“Well- I don’t know- if we were even really dating in the first place.” Magnus tried to explain. He walked over and sat on her bed. The way his feet dangled above the floor made him feel like a child. He clasped his hands together in an anxious ritual. “I thought it was more than, I dunno, friendship, but… I dunno,” he finished lamely.

There was a long pause between them. Annabeth tapped her mechanical pencil against her chin. Magnus kicked his feet back and forth, letting them swish above her bedroom rug.

“I think I kinda get what you mean,” Annabeth said. 

“Huh?” Magnus gaped.

His cousin hummed. “Yeah, sure. Kinda sounds like my parents, actually.” She folded her hands in front of her and cleared her throat, officially engaging in Lecture Mode.

“Y’see, Magnus, my mother is the- well, a goddess of wisdom. She wasn’t born like a human infant, and she has no interest in, like, romance or sex or anything like that. As far as I know. But she does like people, humans. She really liked my dad because he’s all about knowledge and stuff, and he liked her, too.” At this point Magnus felt like he maybe should’ve been taking notes or something. 

“They were just friends, maybe even colleagues, but they really cared for each other. They still do. They didn’t date, or get married, or even have sex. Athena’s love is just different than what’s ‘normal’ -,” and here Annabeth rolled her eyes and used air quotes, “-but that doesn’t make it wrong or weird. Other gods are like that, too. Heck, so are other humans.” She chewed around an anti-Valentine’s Day rant she’d been saving for her boyfriend and decided to leave it for another day.

Magnus pondered that for a bit. “Wait, then what about you?” He gasped. “Oh my god, my cousin is an immaculate conception. My cousin is literally Jesus.”

Annabeth crossed her arms. “If I recall, you told me you were an atheist.”

“Well, maybe I’ve changed. I’ve been born again ,” he waved his hands and wiggled his fingers as sarcastically as possible. He was hoping some higher power was watching it disapprovingly. Annabeth’s face twitched, weighing whether it was appropriate to laugh at that. 

Magnus sighed and let his arms drop. “I don’t really care about the normal part, I just… I dunno. Alex means- a lot to me. I want more , but none of that couple stuff ever feels right. For either of us, I think. I don’t know how to make it different, better .”

“Relationships are hard,” Annabeth advised sagely. Her eyes were unfocused, she was probably thinking about Percy right then.

“You’re telling me,” Magnus scoffed. The demigod flopped onto his back to stare at the ceiling, it was much easier talking to drywall than his cousin’s face. “I like Alex as a person, I like spending time with her. I just want to be around her, and I want to be special to her,” he paused to take a deep breath. “I don’t know what to call that.”

“Sounds like you admire her, for sure.”

“I do. A lot,” he answered without hesitation. Just the thought of Alex reminded him of how capable she was. When she rushed into battle or told people off or brought comfort to homeless kids in desperate need of it. Her soft expression when she thought no one was looking at her. It made his chest expand with helium. She made him want to be a better person, or at the very least a cooler one.

“Hey, Magnus?”

“Hm?”

“You’re glowing, actually.”

His eyes widened and the son of Frey sat back up. Annabeth was smiling at him without a hint of mockery. He pressed his hands to the sides of his face. It didn’t even feel all that hot, and even in the dim light of her room, it wasn’t terribly bright.

It was like a porch light, really.

“Friends? BFFs? Partners in crime? A bromance?” Annabeth suggested, deftly correcting course on the topic at hand. “Or you don’t have to call it anything at all. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Annabeth's Virginian twang slipped out in a rare moment. Her advice sounded a bit uncharacteristic for a brainiac architecture major like her.

“ Ughhhh I dunno. I’ve decided to stop thinking about it now.” Magnus tried to will himself into not literally glowing like a broken nightlight anymore.

“ Mmmm okay, if you say so,” his cousin hummed, turning back to her coursework and increasing the volume to her classical music. Part of him was thankful she knew when to let things go, but also, damn, she could act a bit more invested in his relationship issues.

“Can I talk to her?” 

Annabeth swiveled back around stiffly in her computer chair. “What.”

“Can I talk to your mom real quick? Er, my aunt, I guess, or my other aunt.” He thought about talking to Freya and then very quickly backtracked. He wasn’t going back to Folkvanger unless it was a family emergency or something.

“Okay, you don’t just,” Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know how Norse deities do it, but the Olympians aren’t that hands-on, you know?”

“Considering my dad only shows up once every eighty blue moons, yeah, kinda.”

Annabeth looked at him. It seemed like she very much wanted to unpack that. Instead, she plowed on. “My mom is probably the most lenient Greek goddess you’ll meet. Not that you’d want to meet them, they’re really-“ Annabeth bit her tongue before she could say anything more smite-worthy. “Anyways, tell you what. I’ll talk to her and let you know if she wants to have a chat. Preferably before the next blue moon.”

“Really?” Magnus was actually starting to feel a spark of hope. “Thanks, seriously.”

“No problem, I’ve been meaning to catch up with her, anyways.”

“‘Take a break’? ‘ Take a break ’? What the fff- heck was I thinking?” Alex grabbed a pillow and began fluffing it fervently.

“An excellent question,” Samirah praised. For once, they were in her house rather than the hotel. It was nice to get away from Asgard every now and then, but especially now. Alex felt a bit bad that she was using her sibling’s scant me-time to complain about her own issues, but she didn’t know who else to turn to. 

She came under the guise of re-dying her hair and having a sleepover, but it quickly devolved into the two of them engaging in meaningless gossip while in their pajamas. It felt so unusually normal for them.

“I feel stupid.” Alex resisted the urge to start chewing on the poor pillow in her hands. 

“I don’t think that’s stupid. Relationships are all about communication. It’s important to say what you want.” Another bonus: Samirah was seriously committed , and smart as hell.

Alex stopped tormenting her pillow and tossed it back on Samirah’s bed. She flew a few restless laps around the room as a cockatiel, then changed back and sat on the ground. She made a noise in her throat that sounded halfway between a croak and a growl.

“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? I don’t even know what I want, really.”

Samirah hummed and contemplated that. She intentionally let a few seconds of open silence float by. If Alex really wanted to fill it, she would.

“I just- thought I was doing it wrong,” she blurted out. “He never- whatever.” Alex cut herself off and huffed at the ground.

“Was he being rude to you? ‘Cuz, y’know, just say the word.” Even as an immortal soldier, Magnus was a bit of a string bean. Samirah could easily twist him into a pretzel.

“No,” Alex waved the worry away. Sure, he could be a bit rough around the edges and abrasive, but he didn’t have a genuinely mean bone in his body. “I felt like I-“ and here came the hard part, “I wasn’t-“ she almost had to choke it out, “good enough.”

Samirah’s face was an open display of bemusement. “What?”

Alex threw her hands up. “Like I wasn’t doing it right! Like, it was fine until people started treating us like we were really dating!” She put her head in her hands. “I fucked up. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

More than anything, she loathed that feeling. Alex was who Alex was, and in her soul she knew nothing was wrong with it. It was just when other people started treating her differently, like she wasn’t doing things correctly, it pissed her off beyond measure. 

But, she knew it really was wrong to mess with Magnus like that. She shouldn’t have done that- getting his hopes up or whatever. The thing is, she knew he would take it without question, and it felt like she took advantage of his leniency. When she agreed to his proposal, she hadn’t expected the barrage of societal expectations to close in on her like the jaws of a bear trap. Which, really, she should have predicted by now. If getting out of it meant hurting the other demigod’s feelings a little bit, it was a calculated risk. 

When she figured everything out, then she’d give Magnus a real answer, because he deserved it.

“And the thing is, nothing changed between us afterwards, anyways.” It shouldn’t have ever been a big deal, but when Magnus asked her, she just couldn’t say no. Alex thought that was what she wanted. She thought she was ready for it. “And it felt like we weren’t doing enough, like I wasn’t giving him what you’re supposed to, or whatever.”

She was supposed to be in love with him, adore him, swoon head over heels for him, but she just didn’t really feel that way. It wasn’t that bright, intense flare people always said it would be, and that made it a bit disappointing. Not that she had any real hopes or expectations for herself in the first place. Alex knew she already wasn’t like a vast majority of other people, she was the square peg always being jammed into a round hole; by her father, her friends, and now it was her own damned self.

“What’s being in love supposed to feel like?” Alex mumbled down at the ground, picking at her short fingernails. If she had to ask Samirah while looking at her, she’d probably turn into a fly on the spot.

“I think it’s the greatest blessing I’ve ever received,” Samirah answered honestly. When Alex looked up, she was staring off in the distance. “As for what it feels like… You're excited and happy to be around him, you want to know everything about him, and spend all your time with him, you know? He’s also not half-bad to look at.”

Alex felt like they were talking about two distinctly different “him”s. “I guess so. Kind of.”

Was Magnus attractive? Well, aesthetically sure. He was lean, his hair was soft, his face was symmetrical. Alex found him plain like the ground she walked on, plain like the mud she sculpted. He was beautiful in his simplicity, open like a clear and sunny sky; a seed ripe with possibilities. To her, Magnus was good to look at the way blossoming flowers or a well-designed pot were. He was… refreshing.

And Alex did like spending time with Magnus. Their conversations were typically enjoyable, and his warmth was abundant to anyone he met. He was also reserved and mindful when he needed to be. He accepted her when she wanted him to, and left her alone when she asked. Most of all, Magnus was actually nice to her. When he looked at her, and his eyes lit up like the sun breaking through an overcast sky, it made her actually feel wanted for once.

Wow, that was a low bar.

Alex huffed a sigh. “Would be really great if Loki wasn’t a manipulative dickhead.” Moms were supposed to be, like, helpful and wise in all the ways of love. Right?

“While I agree with your statement, could you keep the swearing down while my grandparents are here?”

“Right. Sorry.”

“You could always talk to Sif, if you need a more direct answer. She knows all about love and marriage and stuff.”

“ Woah ,” Alex put her hands out, “I didn’t say anything about marriage . Plus, her marriage is about as heteronormative as it gets, no offense to her.” Alex actually felt kind of bad for Sif. She could foresee their conversation devolving into the poor goddess complaining about how shitty her husband was to her, rather than being about Alex’s problem.

… As if she herself wasn’t literally dumping all her bullshit on Samirah, right now.

“I just meant that she knows about emotional bonds, in general,” Her half-sister explained in an exasperated monotone. “It wouldn’t hurt to try,” Samirah said. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, and all that.”

“I know, I know,” Alex waved her off.

She said yes and bring your hiking stuff. Annabeth had texted him the day prior. She also sent him a Google Maps location to Blue Hills Reservation. He already knew that place well, but Annabeth was always a stickler when it came to meet-ups. The son of Frey appreciated it when he wasn’t the one having to do the scheduling.

As Magnus packed his backpack with trail mix and water, tied his shoes and donned his old denim jacket, and put his hair into a crude ponytail, he was both relieved and nervous about the trip. 

It gave him an excuse to not see Alex that day. When he told him he was meeting his aunt- no the other one- his face was as impassive as if he was telling Alex he was leaving to use the restroom. Just a simple “ oh okay have fun ” and the child of Loki left to participate in some class To-The-Death without him. He hadn’t even wished him good luck, which Magnus was perpetually in short supply of. 

Unfortunately, it also meant he was meeting another godly family member, which always turned out weird in his experience. Magnus hoped she wouldn’t break out into tears or be weirdly obsessed with her own feet or something.

Now here he was, waiting to meet a goddess in his usual day-hiking gear. This was probably the most average thing he’d done in a while.

It took a while to actually find her, though, because she did not look anything like what he was expecting. Magnus hardly would have recognized her as Annabeth’s mother. She was wearing a green New York ball cap, with her long onyx hair pulled into a bun, and bangs framing her face evenly. The woman wore thick black boots, cargo pants, and a t-shirt displaying various species of owls on it.

Her skin tone resembled polished bronze, and she was at least a foot taller than him. The woman’s posture added to her physique. She was upright and still as a statue, radiating a powerful sense of poise and confidence that contrasted sharply with her silly edutaining graphic tee. When she caught him staring, he finally realized who she really was.

Athena’s almond-shaped light gray eyes held the same sparkling brilliance as her daughter’s. They were like twin mirrors simultaneously absorbing and reflecting the world around her with divine clarity. She seemed like a living paradox- such an active witness to her surroundings. The deity’s eyes casually wandered and settled on a variety of things: the cobbled walkway, a family of tourists, a singular dogwood flower drifting aimlessly in the breeze, and then on him.

“Hello, Magnus,” she greeted in a smooth alto.

“Uh, hi.” He was thankful that his voice didn’t crack under pressure. 

“Sorry if I was a bit difficult to find. My appearance is subject to change.”

“That’s cool.” Magnus thought that Alex would find that pretty cool, too. He wished he was here. The demigod rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “So, nice to meet you, I guess. Usually when I talk to gods it’s because they’re sending me on a deadly quest. It’s kinda weird that this is so…,” he tapped his index and middle finger to the back of his closed fist, “ normal .”

Athena smiled and motioned for him to walk with her, which he did. She began treading on one of the paved areas past the visitor center, which then branched into smaller dirt footpaths. The crisp air of the changing season was nice. Magnus always felt better in the open. Even such a sprawling hotel as the one in Asgard was a bit claustrophobic for him. Not to mention having to dodge a thrown spear or ax or crossbow bolt every few seconds.

“I’m fond of meeting my kin, however distant they may be. Though, you look so much like her. You’re certain you aren’t a brainchild, too?”

It sounded like there was something close to a compliment tangled in there, but Magnus was never too good with brain teasers. “Nah, I dropped out of high school. I can’t even do calculus.”

His aunt blinked at him, then laughed outright at his statement. It startled him a bit. Magnus was expecting her to be stone-faced and serious and kind of scary, not prone to laughter and leisurely strolls. Not that he was complaining or anything.

“I’m sure you’re smart in your own way. You did bind that wolf, and trap that trickster in a walnut.” She smiled at him maternally, her eyes were refined quartz crystals. A hard lump squeezed into his throat.

“Thanks.”

Their excursion led them through the rocky and winding trails, following the various small red dots set out for hikers and sight-seers. Most of it was spent talking about meaningless things; what he did for fun, who his friends were, how Annabeth was doing, and so on. He didn’t know what to ask her in turn. It was a bit awkward at first, but eventually melted into something more casual.

Annabeth told him that her mother always claimed her children before any other Olympian, that she gave her divine blessing when she left home as a kid, and accepted Percy despite all her misgivings about him. Magnus couldn’t help being a little bit jealous about it, but mostly he was just grateful she wasn’t like the others he had encountered. Things were looking up, maybe she really could help him.

They stopped at Eliot Tower at the summit and walked inside. It was cool, and smelled of wet stone. His aunt paid for both their admission fees before he could even pull out his wallet. When they reached the top, where one could get a scenic view of the blue Bostonian skyline, no other person was there. Magnus had a feeling this was somehow Athena’s doing, as well.

“So, let’s get to the chase, shall we?” Athena looked at him, her diamond eyes sparkled with amusement.

“... Oh , haha.” It took a few seconds for Magnus to get it.

Athena placed her hands against the smoothed stone wall. “You wanted to talk to me about a friend of yours, right? Usually people go to Aphrodite for relationship advice, rather than myself. I thought it was interesting.” She said ‘ interesting ’ the way some people said ‘ opportunity ’.

Magnus rested his arms against the stone and stared out at the swath of forestry before him. In the far oceanic distance he could see skyscrapers like giant shark fins. “Um, right. I just thought that maybe- maybe you would understand what I’m going through.”

He tried to summarize his plight as briefly as possible. His aunt nodded and hummed on occasion, but was otherwise silent until he was finished.

“-and I just, I just don’t know what to make of it anymore. It feels like it was fine, and then everything got all,” Magnus made another vague motion like he was bunching up a piece of paper, “twisted up. I can't even talk to her without thinking about it, and that makes it really awkward.” Of course he made it awkward. “I can’t help but think that maybe I’m not as important to Alex as I thought, you know?”

“Not important because she didn’t want to pursue a romantic relationship with you?” Athena clarified. Magnus cringed, feeling like his heart was stripped bare. That feeling made him a bit nauseous.

“Um, but what about you?” Magnus hesitantly inquired, unsure if it was his place to even bring it up. “Annabeth said you- um- you love people differently.” He wanted to understand how she felt, he wanted to make sense of how he felt.

“You’re naturally curious, I really love that.” She turned her head to face him. “See, Magnus? You possess emotional intelligence. It’s invaluable, and often overlooked by others. It’s a powerful tool. I hope you continue to wield it properly.”

“Thanks…” he sighed. He felt like he was talking to his guidance counselor rather than his aunt. Or maybe that’s what it was supposed to feel like? Magnus didn’t really know.

“I do love humans, I’ve loved many of them before. I enjoy their company, their perspectives and ideas.” Athena breathed in the fresh mountain air deeply. She pensively tapped her chin with a finger, it reminded him of his cousin . “ Differently , you say. Different to what?”

Magnus recalled, randomly, what Alex had said before. Is there a way I need to act now? Am I somehow a different person?

“I don’t know. You don’t fall in love with them, or get into, like, committed relationships. You don’t marry them and have kids- like people usually do.” Magnus almost asked if Annabeth and her other siblings somehow came from sea foam or her brain juice or something, but willed himself to stay focused.

His aunt paused for a contemplative moment. “I’ve been in committed relationships before. Many times.” Athena sighed. “The stories about me are often very black and white, lacking all the grays. It’s a shame.” Magnus saw her sterling eyes turn soft and wistful.

“Ah, right. In modern America, you humans tend to view love differently than how the humans of ancient Greece did. The times change so fast down here.” Magnus knew all about that. He was only gone for a week and they were already building a new seafood joint in South End. Athena ran her fingers along the stone beneath her palm pensively. “I guess it’s not unlike a tower.”

Magnus tried thinking about that, and it started making his brain hurt. “Sorry. I don’t get it.”

The goddess nodded, accepting his incomprehension in stride. “A tower needs a strong foundation on which to build the rest of it. The foundation would be what you often call ‘platonic’,” she smirked a bit at that, enjoying some inside joke, “love. Then you tier your ‘romantic’ love, and then ‘sexual’ love. But, you see, Magnus,” Athena stared into his eyes, unwavering, “you don’t need a tower.”

“I… don’t?” Magnus felt the rusted cogs in his brain creaking and turning with monumental effort.

“Not unless you’d like to build one. Or sometimes you simply do not have the tools to do so, but that doesn’t stop you from building, say, a house. You could even make an underground bunker. And so on, and so forth.” She waved her hand with an elegant circular rotation. “Personally, I’m still very fond of the Parthenon. I love all kinds of structures. When humans ask me to help build such innovative constructions with them is truly one of my favorite feelings.”

Magnus was quiet for a moment. He stared out into the vast beyond, the apartments, radio towers, the universities, skyscrapers, malls and museums, simply appreciating the view from his vantage point. He liked the idea of towers, they were nice and idyllic and magnificent, they allowed him to even be having the present conversation. But they weren’t home to him. 

Home used to be a one-bed one-bath middle class apartment with brick walls and faulty plumbing. Then it was underneath overpasses, behind convenience stores, cramped alleyways, crowded shelters. Now it was a spacious room, with people he actually cared about, a multitude of diverse pocket dimensions where he was greeted enthusiastically with a smile, good food, and a good conversation. It was still a lot to process.

He thought of that dim porch light, and wanted in that moment so desperately to have a house, too. It would be something small and inconsequential. He wanted to forge it from earth and wood and care. He wanted to share it with her .

His aunt continued in his silence. “There was a man, a while ago, named William of Ockham. He was a friar and a theologian, and he pondered many things. He invented a weapon of his own design, a philosophical razor blade.” The goddess smiled softly to herself, recalling such a wondrous human edge. “It didn’t cut down his fellow man, but rather the always-aqueous ideas posited by others. It’s a lovely invention, Occam’s Razor.”

Athena sure seemed to adore her fair share of weapons. If she didn’t seem so genuinely pleased with herself, Magnus would’ve thought she was just messing with him. However, her eyes held a nostalgic look to them as she gazed at the woods beyond and below her, as a queen regent would survey her realm.

“The truth is already within you. If you are conflicted about which path to take, it is always wise to choose the hypothesis with the fewest assumptions to deduce.” She pointed a finger out towards the various roads leading to the tower. “In other words, Magnus, I fear you are missing the forest for the trees.”

“Uh… huh…” the boy trailed off, trying to parse through her explanation. It had a lot of SAT words.

Athena looked upon his confused face. “You already know how you feel about Alex, but you’re investing all your effort into finding a label for it, fitting it into an existing category, that you have lost sight of what you’re really after.”

“Oh,” Magnus stated. “ Ohhh .”

“Yes.”

“You really are smart.”

Athena smiled once again. “I would certainly hope so.”

The hike back was pleasant, relaxing. It felt like everything was brighter, clearer, and more focused to Magnus. His godly aunt pointed out the occasional flora or fauna or piece of manmade architecture and rattled off some interesting fun facts for him, which caused a few tourists to ask her for directions along the trails. It was fun, and nostalgic. Magnus missed doing stuff like this; he never thought he’d get the chance to do it again. It made his heart ache in a very cathartic way.

And finally, they arrived at the reservation entrance. Tourists and fellow hikers flitted about the area as Magnus and Athena stood together in the shade of a cedar tree.

“This was nice,” his aunt stated, grinning and adjusting her green cap casually.

“It was,” Magnus replied. “Thank you.” He examined the rocky ground and the weeds and leaves and plastic wrappers and tin cans littering it.

“It seems like you didn’t get all the answers you wanted, though.” Athena said gently. He kicked a pebble and watched it clatter away. Magnus wondered if maybe it had been part of one of the old spires, and before that had it been part of a mountain top?

“I just still don’t know what to do now. I don’t know how to talk to her.” Magnus put his hands behind his head and stretched with a huff.

The goddess hummed. “I have an idea.” She reached behind her, then moved her arm back out in front of her like a magic trick. In her grasp was a delicate, silvery-green olive branch. It was dappled with tiny white flowers and beautiful oval leaves. “I’m not only the goddess of intelligence, but also architecture, and strategy. When you know what you want, and need some advice, burn this. Until then, I trust you to plant it somewhere safe.” Magnus nodded. He was hoping his aunt would just give him her phone number, but whatever. Deities were weird. She handed it to him and he took it gently. It felt charged with a clear, ringing light that sang faintly in his mind.

“Thank you, again,” Magnus felt like he couldn’t say it enough.

“Of course,” the Greek goddess smiled, then her form became unfocused. When Magnus blinked, she was completely gone, as if she had simply evaporated. The demigod rubbed his eyes, feeling like he just woke up from a dream. Then he heaved a long, exasperated sigh, and left to go stick the olive branch somewhere in his atrium.

“The heck is that?” Alex asked him. She nudged the tiny olive branch with her foot. Magnus cringed, his eyebrows pinching and his mouth pursing. Alex thought he looked really silly like that; with his hands held out like he wanted to grab Alex and shake her around.

Right now, he was playing Pikmin on his old GameCube that had magicked into his room at some point. Magnus had said it was his favorite console when he was a kid, and Alex insisted he invest in a PS2, at least . He adamantly refused. Magnus picked up his purple controller and resumed playing.

“It’s a gift. Don’t do that, please.” Cute sound effects rang out from his CRT TV ( seriously, dude? ) as Olimar weeded out tiny blue and red helpers from the ground.

Alex cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh? From whomst?” Maybe he was getting along with some hulder.

“My aunt.”

“…”

“The other one.”

“ Riiiight …” The child of Loki drawled. She stared at his face for a few moments more, then looked back down at the flimsy plant. It wasn’t exactly screaming ‘gift’ to her. “So… how’d it go?”

“It went fine,” Magnus replied tersely. He was doing a lot of that lately. When Alex said he’d make it weird, she had underestimated his abilities. This was almost as uncomfortable as when Alex told a few of her school friends she was trans.

“Okay, well, that’s good.” Alex tapped at the ground with the toe of her converse. Magnus didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it, but Alex was desperately curious. “Is she cool?”

“She’s fine.” This boy was a tough nut to crack.

“That’s great,” she said, shapeshifting into a spotted hyena behind him. She padded up to the back of his head and sniffed at his hair with her wet nose. He smelled like grass and pine and flowers, and the pollen made her sneeze on him. Magnus flinched and whipped around with an undignified shout, and Alex cackled at him like any normal hyena would.

“Alex, what the hell!” He rubbed at the back of his head, checking for canine snot, and wiping it off on his pant leg.

“Your hair’s getting pretty long,” Alex laughed, the way hyenas do.

“Okay, and? ” It was really funny riling him up like that.

Alex sniffed more at his face and clothes, and he let her, frowning deeply. She could smell dogwood and olives and wet dirt and a weird metallic scent, too. It smelled like her abeulo’s workshop after he finished sanding and polishing metal. With her personal investigation concluded she trotted away. “Just an observation, dude.”

Magnus heaved a heavy exhalation and self-consciously ran his fingers through his hair, then resumed his gaming. Alex laid down in the grass behind him lazily for a while, as a hyena, then a crow, followed by a fennec fox, a garter snake, and finally a human again. All the while, Magnus didn’t say a single word to her, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Usually the silence between them felt inconsequential, but now it felt insurmountable. It made Alex terribly restless.

“Okay, I’m leaving to go do stuff now, byeee~,” Alex shot out the door as a magpie. Magnus hardly processed it before calling out a brief “ okay see ya ”. Meanwhile, Alex flitted down hallways, weaving through human and avian bodies. She performed a couple of sick barrel rolls, dodging javelins and knives and other sharp objects, tweeting out some singsong notes all the while. It only took about 15 minutes to exit the hotel and fly to her destination.

The grand, sprawling edifice of Bilskínir was a glorious sight to all who beheld it. A massive fortification of 540 rooms, white and pristine and shining in the realm’s sunlight. Alex hated it because it looked like her father’s mansion, she loved it because it looked like the Chase Space. It was complicated.

Alex pushed one of the monumental doors open and strode in like he owned the place. The grand entryway was desolate save for all the showy, virtually untouched furniture. Alex wasn’t sure how Sif’s family lived in such a stiff and formal building. Rather than taking the stairs, the child of Loki once again turned into a bird and soared ever upwards as a golden eagle. He liked that form, a lot of beings with jötunn blood in them did. Perhaps it was the liberating sensation of wind under his wings, or the sharpened eyesight, or the power he felt with each rotation of his vast wingspan.

After a brief flight, Alex finally reached one of the rooms Sif frequented. He swooped through the opened doorway and perched on the balcony to adjust his ruffled feathers. The view of Asgard was breathtaking. Hotel Valhalla looked like a Monopoly piece from where Alex roosted. He shapeshifted back and sat on the ledge, kicking his feet leisurely.

“Ah, Alex, there you are,” the goddess greeted, utterly unphased at his grand entrance.

“Hi!” The demigod turned around and hopped down from his precarious seating to join her. The room itself was marble in every single direction, as though eroded from a great mountain over the course of a bygone era. To the left, there was a streaming fountain flowing from the wall and into a tiered set of smaller pools. Around them grew a variety of reeds, and within them sat large white and pink lilies. To his right, the area was not dissimilar to his own room at the hotel. 

There were, however, a number of rowan trees standing like columns near the walls. Their bodies twisted elegantly up to the tall ceiling, and their branches fanned out in upside down spills of bright red and green. Alex felt like he was surrounded by the trees’ watchful eyes. While it was slightly unsettling, he was sure they weren’t malicious.

Between the rowans, the goddess lounged on a large exquisitely-crafted wooden chaise. The wood itself was cream-colored and sanded smooth, carved and burned with intricate Norse knots along every panel in a show of such loving artistry it nearly brought a tear to Alex’s eye. Sif herself was draped atop the cushions and colorful woven blankets like a Baroque figure. Similar to a jötunn , her physical form was hard to wrap his human brain around. It was like looking in a rearview mirror, and then placing a magnifying glass in front of that. Sif appeared to be roughly seven or eight feet tall, round and curvy like any fertility goddess ought to be. Her gown was white and red, threaded with shimmering golden inscriptions.

Sif tilted her head inquisitively. “Today it’s…”

“He and him.”

“Excellent.” Alex's face darkened a bit from embarrassment. When Alex first met Sif, she treated him like a nuisance, but now she acted like every meeting was a blessing whether he was a boy or a girl. It was kind of nice. “Come sit with me, child.” She motioned to another piece of furniture similar to hers. Alex took the invitation gladly and hopped onto the giant cushion, sinking into it slightly.

“You need something,” Sif stated bluntly.

“What, I can’t swing by just to say hello?”

The goddess’ cherry lips curved in a small smile. “Your sentiment is kind, Alex, but it’s not the full truth. The rowans know when a traveler is at a crossroads.” Right, just like she knew to assist them in finding her husband’s hammer. Alex glanced around at the quickbeams surrounding them again, such snitches…

“Well, I wanted to ask about… relationship- problems…” The demigod gritted out, picking at the threaded fabric of the blanket he was sitting on.

“Hm? Oh, with Frey’s son?” Sif sighed, seeming disappointed.

“Yeah…”

“Ah, you two made such an adorable couple. That’s a shame.” 

“Huh? No, we didn’t- we weren’t really- I never-” Alex stuttered and cleared his throat. “It’s complicated.” He looked up at the rowan berries covering the ceiling.

“I’m sure.”

“I want to be, you know, together, but also I really don’t,” Alex flopped backwards dejectedly. “I don’t get it.”

“Well, Alex, certainly there are parts that appeal, and parts that do not,” Sif deduced. “So elaborate on the things you dislike first.”

Alex frowned. “I don’t like how people treat me like I’m his boyfriend or girlfriend.”

“Mhm.”

“And I don’t like making everything we do together romantic now. It’s like we can’t just hang out anymore, now they have to be dates . And it’s like we have to kiss and hold hands and shi- stuff now or people think we don’t care about each other. And the fact that I’m supposed to get sparks or butterflies in my stomach about him. People call it the Honeymoon phase, or whatever. I just don’t feel the way they tell me I’m supposed to. I never have and I don’t know if I ever will.” Alex finally took a breath afterwards. “I don’t want Magnus to be my boyfriend. I don’t want to date him,” he stated resolutely to the canopy of tree branches on the ceiling. He’d been thinking about it ever since talking with Samirah.

“I see,” the goddess responded. “And the parts you like?”

Ugh, here was the hard part, because it was going to sound really sappy and embarrassing. “I like feeling special to him, and spending time with him, just the two of us.” Alex’s chest felt light. “I can trust him with anything about me.” He inhaled deeply before continuing, “I want him to know stuff about me no one else does.” Alex envisioned Adrian’s face for a few seconds that stretched into infinity. Fuck. He blinked, hard. 

Alex wanted to know the secret things about Magnus, too. He wanted to know why his eyes looked so sad sometimes and what his mom was like. He even liked knowing the stupid, inconsequential shit like his favorite candy and soda, the fact that Magnus slept with exactly seven pillows, and three-fourths of his wardrobe consisted of (very comfortable) gray t-shirts. Alex liked that feeling of wrapping his arms around him, holding him like a jigsaw piece slotting into place, and Magnus got That Look on his face. It was a feeling Alex couldn’t put a precise name to, but it made him feel…something adjacent to happiness, maybe.

Sif was silent for a few moments, so Alex hesitantly sat back up, wondering if she was even listening anymore. When he turned to face her, her crystalline blue eyes were shimmering with piqued interest. She was smiling against her hand with distant humor, as though recalling an inside joke.

“If you enjoy his company so thoroughly,” she lifted the hand upwards, like releasing dandelion seeds to the wind, “why not commit yourself to him?”

“... Are you telling me-”

“To propose to him? Wherever did you get that idea?” She didn’t even allow him to finish the sentence. Alex’s lip curled unconsciously. 

“What’s marriage for, anyways? I don’t need the money or the tax benefits and I can’t ever have kids, so what’s it even matter?” He asked, throwing his hands up, beseeching the deity to impart her wisdom. He hadn’t even known Magnus for that long; though, multiple near-death and actual-death experiences did bring people together pretty quickly. Who even got married as a teenager, anyways? He was regretting asking an ancient Norse deity about this already.

Sif looked vaguely amused. It was hard to tell what she was thinking, usually. Were all nature gods and their offspring just like that? “As a goddess, I don’t really need those things either.”

Alex called bullshit. “But you do have kids. And you’re, like, super rich,” he griped.

Sif cocked her head, her gorgeous locks rippling like liquid gold. “I suppose gods having children is different to humans having them,” she sighed wistfully. She twirled some of her hair around her long index finger. “The riches of the soil are not so fickle as human money,” Sif mused. 

What about red gold, then? Alex wanted to inquire, but held his tongue.

“As for marriage… Regardless of Thor’s temperament, our unity is that of the earth and the sky. His storms bring rain to my fields.” Her words sounded like a euphemism for something far more intimate. Alex had to resist rolling his eyes.

“Do you love him?” The demigod asked plainly.

“Oh, love ,” Sif sighed, fully combing through her luxurious hair with both hands. Alex thought about Magnus furtively trying to detangle his own hair. He really needed a haircut. “You humans and your ‘ love ’.” She was quiet for a moment, rhythmically combing. “Yes, I care for Thor. He cares for me, in turn.”

“But why ?” Alex was desperate to understand at this point.

“Do I need to elaborate? His presence simply brings me joy, our bond is sacred to me. You feel your way about the Freyspawn, and so I feel my way about my husband.” Sif’s eyes sparkled with her own truth. “It’s something I want to keep close to me, until Ragnarok.” That seemed like the Norse deity version of ‘ til death do us part ’.

Alex wanted to stay with Magnus until Ragnarok, too. Their fates had been intertwined ever since they’d been dropped into Valhalla. Maybe he was starting to get an inkling of what Sif meant. Still, it was hard to shake his general distaste for the god of thunder. 

“Anyways,” the goddess stood from her lounge in all her abundant beauty. Her bright gown and long blonde hair flowed behind her. “Let’s take a walk, Alex.” She glided across the room towards the copse of mountain-ashes at the room’s far end, and child of Loki followed. It seemed to extend longer the more they walked towards it, until it simply became a wide forest pathway. The two of them were shaded by a long dome of rowan branches. The late afternoon sun softly peeked through the leaves.

“You’d like to be in a committed relationship with Frey’s son-“

“His name is Magnus,” Alex corrected.

“Right, with Magnus. But the established customs of going about it aren’t doing it for you?” Sif attempted to clarify. Her bare footsteps were hardly whispers against the trail.

“Well, everyone talks about this kind of stuff, getting into relationships or whatever, and that’s not how I feel, it’s not what we- what I want.” Alex ran a hand through his curly hair, nervously working out some knots. He was a bit jealous of Sif’s tangle-free locks. “Just another thing wrong with me,” Alex muttered without thinking.

Sif stopped, and turned to the small demigod at her side with a stern expression. She held up her hand, and a rowan fruit dropped to meet her palm. It was different from the typical red berries he saw, it was more like a pear. The demigod failed to hide his bemusement. “That is not true, Alex. There is not a single thing wrong with you.” She said it like it was a universal truth, like she was a doctor telling her patient he’s 100% cancer-free.

Sif held up the crimson fruit with both hands, and easily parted it straight down the middle. “I’ve heard a story that some distant god split humans in half, fearing their power. It’s not true, of course, but humans tend to enjoy stories like that.” Sif contemplated the halves in her hands, its pale interior and five exact seeds resembled an apple. “You’re not two halves of a whole, are you? You’re one entire person.”

“Of course I am,” Alex asserted, face getting a bit hot at having to explain this, again . “I’m not… half boy and half girl or whatever. I’m all me .”

Sif nodded. “Precisely. You are not searching for some other half, you have all of you in front of me.” He watched as Sif reunited the fruit into one whole, and returned it to its stem, seemingly untouched. “So no more talk of there being something wrong with you because you’re not like other people, okay?”

“I…okay,” Alex huffed and looked away. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“You are very welcome.” They continued their stroll.

Alex took a deep breath. “Sif, what do I do? I just- I just want to be special to him.”

“Are you not already?” She looked genuinely surprised. 

Alex stopped walking, thinking about it. He reminisced on when they kissed last, that look on his face. When did Magnus ever look at someone else the way he did at Alex? Not flustered or nervous, but full of a simple and content acceptance. It was like how people stared at the stars, eyes wide and full of gratitude and wonder.

All those times they visited the café, always at 9:00 A.M., always the same booth, and never the same order twice in a row. The way Magnus always paused before reaching out to Alex’s injuries, a silent Is this okay? Am I doing this right? Tell me what you want . Memories of him always sticking to the forefront of his mind nowadays, like photos taped to the refrigerator. It made Alex feel ecstatic, overjoyed, like all his hair was standing on end. He slapped a palm to his forehead and laughed.

“ Ah , I’m an idiot.”

Sif smiled back. “I know you are not.”

“I think I do want to marry him,” Alex confessed, still grinning. It sounded so sappy when he said it, but it was such a nice concept. Alex wanted to skip all the romantic bullshit, and just be with him.

The goddess lit up. “I know all about that, would you like my help?”

“Well- I mean- I wasn’t going for anything fancy,” he paused. “Oh gods, do I have to propose to him?”

That only made Sif more excited. “That’s the best part!” She steepled her fingers, seeming quite pleased with herself. “In fact, I already have an excellent idea…” 

“Let’s go on a trail,” Alex demanded one morning. It was early, around 4:00 AM, and none of their hallmates were awake at the moment. The child of Loki stood before him in his gaudy flannel pants and worn, highlighter-yellow sleep shirt (which despite all its washing had never dulled in hue). His mismatched eyes didn’t show a single trace of sleepiness.

“… Right now?” Magnus blinked slowly, his brain still trying to wake up.

“Be ready by six,” Alex answered resolutely, before turning away and striding down the hall.

“Okay,” Magnus called out, then shut the door and flopped back into bed.

He was ready by 6:07 AM, again with his jacket and boots and messy ponytail. Alex was not very pleased. He had his hands on his hips, tapping his boot on the ground impatiently. Magnus didn’t really understand why he seemed so on edge. Usually- when a quest wasn’t involved- Alex went about his afterlife slower than an elderly tortoise. 

In the elevator, Magnus tried in vain to readjust his hair. His clumsy fingers fumbling with the hair tie while Alex stared at the door with a pinched expression. Finally, he huffed and turned to face Magnus, plucking the offending accessory from his fingers. He grabbed him by the shoulders from behind and repositioned him to face the wall in a split-second disjointed tango. In the metallic, reflective surface, the son of Frey looked tired.

“You need a haircut,” Alex mumbled close to his ear. Magnus just hummed neutrally. He ran his hands across his scalp, then tied his hair up with a few deft flicks. It happened so fast, Magnus hardly processed it. Then, the elevator door dinged , and they were off.

Thankfully, Alex wasn’t planning on going to Blue Hills Reservation. Magnus felt, for some reason, that by going there he would uncover that super embarrassing discussion he had with his aunt. Instead, they took a Lyft-presumably on Alex’s dime. Magnus spent the short ride dozing in the back seat while Alex exchanged a few pleasantries with the driver. After a half-hour he was shaken awake, and they went on to approach the entrance to Whipple Hill. Magnus had a feeling that was their destination the second their ride had started, but didn’t want to try asking Alex at the time.

When they arrived, the land was still shaded by the cool colors of early dawn. Even the sun was still sleeping, which Magnus envied immensely right then. Whipple Hill was relatively small compared to other nature parks and trails in Massachusetts, but it was a great spot for hiking. The fact it was close to Boston compared to other reservations made it a familiar place to Magnus; though, he hadn’t been here in, what, five or six years? It made his chest ache and his eyes burn.

Alex looked over at him. “What?”

“Whaddaya mean, ‘ what ’?” He ricocheted back. The early hour wasn’t helping his mood.

Alex squinted and puckered his mouth like he bit on something sour. He looked a bit strange in the not-so-morning light, all the vibrant colors of his hair and eyes and jeans and flannel shirt desaturated for the time being. The child of Loki bunched his shoulders and took a deep, calming breath, then let it out and relaxed. “Have you been here before?”

“It was a long time ago,” Magnus blinked and fiddled with one of his jacket buttons. He sighed heavily. “Sorry.”

Alex gave him a really weird look, like he was cautiously chewing on something tough and worried he’d crack a tooth on it. Magnus stared back for a few seconds, waiting, but Alex didn’t look like he was opening his mouth again any time soon.

“So, did you have something planned or did you wake me up at ass o’clock just for the hell of it?” The son of Frey snarked, opening his arms and looking around questioningly.

The other demigod jolted a bit before regaining his composure. He folded his arms behind his back like he was hiding something dangerous. His gaze slid slowly from left to right. “I just needed some inspiration. I was having art block all week.”

They gazed at each other, and before either of them realized it, they were both moving their legs in tandem, walking side-by-side casually along the plant-strewn dirt trail.

“Did you finish that thing?” Magnus inquired. He focused on that familiar, relaxing feeling of being outside. The air smelled like wet grass and faintly of gasoline; an unfortunate side effect of existing so close to the big city.

Alex rolled his eyes. “Art is never ‘finished ’.The idea of ‘completion ’ is subjective.” He used air-quotes and everything. Magnus found the way Alex tilted his head and quirked his mouth very funny. If he had a knack for anything, it was tipping Alex slightly off-kilter with ease. “But yes, I did finish the thing. Are you still collecting your Pikmins or whatever?” Alex asked back, wiggling his fingers abstractly. Ever since Hearthstone began teaching Alex sign language, he had begun using his hands more emphatically in everything he said.

“Yeah, I’m stuck on this part though.” Magnus casually stepped over a jutting boulder as they approached an incline in the trail. Now, they were ascending.

“Look up a walkthrough, weirdo.”

Magnus paused mid-step to look vaguely offended. “Excuse me? I’m a gamer . I don’t do walkthroughs.”

“Uh-huh ,” Alex scoffed, easily navigating the rocky path with feather-light footsteps. He didn’t seem very convinced, of neither his gamer status nor his resolution to problem-solving. 

Quietly, Magnus was relieved that whatever awkwardness seemed to surround them for the past while had disappeared, at least for the time being. That didn’t change the fact that Alex kept looking anywhere but his face. It seemed like he was still dancing around something important, it was just that Magnus had no clue what . Maybe he really did need to work on training his brain.

Not that he hadn’t been spending an unusually-extensive amount of time on rumination. After talking to his aunt it felt easier to accept the feelings he articulated. Magnus was never the best at dealing with unnecessarily tedious shit- and he had a real bone to pick with Fate- but he was trying to get better at taking things head-on.

And so, yesterday, he had finally called on his aunt Athena to help him out with his dilemma. Magnus borrowed Mallory’s lighter, an old scratched-up brass antique, after she made him swear on his grave he wasn’t planning on hot-boxing the elevator or something equally stupid. He gave his word, then went to light the gifted branch in his bathroom. It would have been pretty dumb, even for him, to set it alight in his atrium.

The thing burned with a pure white light, producing a trail of scented smoke like a candle would. He watched it slowly disintegrate into a small pile of ash in the sink basin. Magnus wondered if they had any smoke detectors in the hotel. Probably not. As he washed the detritus down the drain, feeling incredibly nonplussed at the lack of any sort of response or feedback, the rinsing uncovered two metal rings buried underneath. They were made of bronze, seemingly just-crafted, catching light and reflecting every surface with polished clarity as he turned them around in his fingers.

“Magnus .”

The titular teen nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice. He swallowed down the string of curses that almost escaped his mouth. When he looked back up at his mirror, his aunt smiled gently and waved at him. Now, she appeared with deep mahogany skin and long, elegant locs pulled partially into a bun and speckled with brilliant metallic clips. Like before, she was recognizable through her sharp silver eyes.

“Gods , you scared the- you startled me,” Magnus amended, clutching the rings to his chest and trying to regulate his heartbeat.

“Apologies for that.”

He cleared his throat. “Aunt Athena, uh, what are these for?” The demigod held out the small bronze bands towards her, and she looked blankly at him.

“I suppose they are two rings.”

“Well, yeah, but… why ?” Magnus pleaded.

“I believe you could keep one and give the other to someone else,” Athena advised pragmatically. “If you would like to, perhaps, share a metaphorical bond of sorts.”

Magnus tried to maintain some level of respect, but he couldn’t completely hide the distaste on his face. “You… gave me wedding bands, to give to Alex?”

“A better explanation is that you envisioned a concept in your mind and so the rings manifested in response to that,” she motioned to said items.

“I have a bad track record with weddings. I got thrown into acid at the last one I went to,” Magnus explained. That one fucking sucked, from the food to the venue to the fighting. Not to mention the whole Loki-breaking-free-of-his-chains thing. Magnus was solemnly sworn off any more Viking matrimony after that.

His aunt tented her fingers. “They don’t have to be exclusive to marriage. Like I said, you could just use them to share a bond of any kind. Consider them a gift imbued with my blessing. Those are celestial bronze, you know.” She completely breezed past the acid part, somehow.

“Holy sh- crap, for real?” Magnus took another look at them, and noticed a faint warm glow about them. “Thanks.”

The goddess’ eyes twinkled. “For my favorite nephew? Of course.” Magnus’ face grew hot at that. He wasn’t his family’s favorite anything , as far as he knew. Athena was definitely his favorite aunt.

Magnus slipped one of the bands onto his ring finger. A not-insignificant part of his brain was paranoid it would get welded onto him and turn him into a dragon like Mr. Alderman. He had witnessed too much strange shit to not immediately rule it out. Thankfully it didn’t, and it was a perfect fit. Surely, even if Alex didn’t want it, she would at least appreciate the craftsmanship.

“Okay,” Magnus nodded once, resolutely, “okay, I’ll give it to her. I’m going to tell her how I really feel, no matter what.”

“‘ Some of the words you'll find within yourself, the rest some power will inspire you to say .’ I told a young man that once, a long time ago. I’m sure it’ll help you, too,” Athena stated confidently. “You’ve already sought my counsel, you’ve proven your resolve,” she held up a righteous fist and flashed a triumphant grin, “now, execute your plan!” Athena’s brazen conviction and self-assured tone was both inspiring and daunting. He wasn’t really used to someone having this much faith in him.

“Right,” he gulped.

He could stand up to a lindworm, or his friends’ shitty silver-tongued god-parent, if it meant helping other people. Yet he realized, selfishly, this problem was just for him. In reality, the outcome of Alex’s approval or denial was not earth-shattering or world-ending, yet Magnus couldn’t help but fear the consequences far more than a giant wolf swallowing the sun.

After twenty minutes of strolling, and taking the occasional nature picture (Magnus was having a mycology phase), they stopped in a clearing for a break. The looming, lichen-coated deciduous trees overhead formed a canopy, and caused the newborn amber light to dapple across everything residing below their branches. Very little vegetation sprouted from the expanse of burnt sienna; a few clumps of grass and weeds, some patches of cool emerald moss. It was a miniature desert, and the two of them were giant oddities within the secluded biome. The only sounds were the rush of a breeze through the leaves, the creaking of the large wooden sentinels above them, and whistling bird calls.

It was peaceful. It was utterly perfect. Not so absurd as professing one’s love on a ship of nails during a potentially-world-ending flyting, more direct than holding his hand during a fireworks show. It was serious and genuine and personal, and it was ridiculous that this was making Alex infinitely more nervous than facing Loki in Nifelheim. She took a deep breath.

“Magnus,” Alex called to him. He had gone to set down his backpack against a hollowed out tree stump.

He turned to look at her. The demigod’s head was coated with a honey-colored glow, his mouth was partially open and his slate-gray eyes were slightly widened. “Yeah?”

Alex walked right up to him and grabbed his hands in hers. After a few contemplative beats, she hesitantly got down on one knee.

“ Uhhh what are you doing,” Magnus spoke up. His eyes were really wide now, borderline panicked. Besides that he didn’t dare move a muscle. The two of them stared at each other unflinchingly.

Alex opened her mouth to speak, but it felt like the breath was knocked out of her. She was trying extremely hard not to make a fool of herself by turning into a deer or squawking like a parrot. “Will- will you,” she took a deep breath, hands trembling ever so slightly. “Magnus, will you marry me?”

He looked like she just slapped him in the face.

“What?”

“Not like- like marry marry, but will you- can we commit ourselves to each other?” She gripped his hands a bit tighter, afraid he would try to pull away. Now that she was actually trying to say it, it was hard to articulate. Alex brought his hands to her, pressing his knuckles to her slightly-sweaty forehead. Magnus could read her mind if he wanted to, if it got him to understand her intent. 

Alex wanted to sleep in the same bed as him and go to Café 19 with him and cut his hair unevenly every once in a while. She wanted to show him all her clay creations and go to museums and libraries and talk to him all the time. Some day, she thought, perhaps far into the distant horizon of their eternal lives, she would dust off the antique relics of her living memories, and set them out neatly for him in an open display.

“Will you stay with me?”

Finally, Magnus blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. His face lit up, quite literally flushed with radiance, and he gave her a nervous grin. His genuine smile always skewed to the right side of his face; he had a dimple there. His blond hair seemed rustled by an imaginary wind. Magnus’ entire appearance looked like he’d just gotten off the world’s most intense roller coaster; he looked like he wanted to grab her arm and say ‘ let’s go again! ’

The son of Frey threw his head back and laughed. It was like an old engine, stuttery and undignified and a little bit raspy. Alex felt like the sole witness to a unicorn sighting. The boy in front of her laughed until tears streamed from his eyes, and he gently extracted his hands to wipe them away. 

Her face felt like it was burning from embarrassment. Of course this was stupid. It felt like he was making fun of her; though, maybe she kind of deserved it.

“ Hah , oh man, sorry about that,” Magnus sighed. It seemed like all of nature relaxed in unison. His eyes shone with brilliant clarity when he looked down at her. “Good fucking grief, Alex. If there’s one thing about you that’s predictable, it’s how unpredictable you are.”

She was completely tongue-tied at that. Alex moved to get back up, but Magnus put his hands on her shoulders, and sat down in front of her. Warmth radiated from his palms, she didn’t want him to move them away. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” He looked utterly confused.

Alex shrugged.

“Don’t apologize.”

“Okay.”

He gazed at her, the warm light still crowning him with an ethereal golden halo. His eyes were polished silver, glittering like morning dew and showering her with tender affection. Even when Alex was forced to attend Mass in her crisp slacks and button-down shirt, genuflecting before towering stained-glass windows of nameless saints and angels as a child, she had never been in the presence of something so holy. 

Oh , Alex thought, so this was that blessing Samirah was talking about.

Wordlessly, he pulled her into a loose hug. It was nice, his hair smelled like cheap sweet pea-scented shampoo and fresh laundry. Desperately, she wanted to find a home in him.

“So… is that yes?” Alex mumbled.

“Of course it is,” Magnus answered in kind. Even though they were alone, they kept their voices to a secretive whisper. “I mean, I’ve got nowhere else to be for the rest of eternity.” He was silent for a few beats. “Actually, I was… going to ask you the same thing, sort of. My aunt gave me rings and everything.”

Alex would have laughed at that had her throat not clamped shut. “Really?” She squeaked out.

Magnus relented. “Yes, gods, this is kind of embarrassing.”

“I’m sorry for breaking up with you,” she wrapped her hands around his back.

“That’s okay. It didn’t bother me, really.”

“I still feel bad about it.” Magnus let out an amused huff at that. “In the entire world- or all nine of them- you’re the person I care about the most.”

“What about Samirah?”

“... You’re the person I care about second-most,” she joked.

For a few seconds, neither of them moved. They didn’t want to burst the bubble of serenity enveloping them. If Ragnarok was announced, Alex could die happily in that moment.

“Thank you,” Magnus whispered next to her ear, “for liking me, as a person.”

“Same.”

“I didn’t have many friends when I was alive, so…”

“Yeah.”

After a few more moments, Alex sniffed and finally pulled away. “Okay, that’s enough of that.” She stood up slowly. “ Ugh , I got dirt all over my pants,” she tried, in vain, to wipe it off her acid-washed jeans. That only succeeded in making the stains bigger. Magnus stood up next to her, brushing at his own pants half-heartedly.

“So, what now? Do we need to, like, act like old married folk now?” He inquired casually.

“No way,” Alex responded resolutely. “Just putting a name to what it already was, I think. If things do change, then that can happen on its own. I won’t try to force it.” Alex liked the unknowable future, it always excited her, and they had so many years together for it to happen.

“Fine with me,” Magnus shrugged, stretching his arms up to the sky and relaxing again. Alex looked at him, his ruffled clothes and hair and still-somewhat-drowsy expression. He cocked his head to the side. “So what are we, partners?”

Alex smiled, and he smiled back. It felt right . It wasn’t too flowery, yet still held a solid weight in her mind. “I like that.” 

“You should have seen Blitz and Hearth when I told them, I thought Blitz was gonna faint,” Magnus laughed. 

“I bet,” she replied. It was late, they had just returned after yet another extensive hike in the sun. Magnus didn’t even bother going back to his room first, stealing her bathroom and least-bright set of clothes before letting Alex have her own turn. She said her payback was allowing her hack at his head however she wanted. Magnus complied easily.

This was one of her favorite tasks, giving her partner a haircut. When Blitzen had explained his hair had magic properties, he wasn’t joking. Whenever she dragged the comb through a tangle, or snipped at it with her scissors, her fingertips buzzed with energy. Alex scrutinized the line of blond hair pinched between her index and middle fingers. The ends of it were split and frayed like exposed wire. She gladly ran her scissors across, letting the dead ends fall to the floor and feeling the magic release with a static pop .

“They wanted to throw a whole party about it,” the boy tried not to fidget too much in his seat.

“Gods,” Alex scoffed, combing through Magnus’ still-damp hair once more. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. “They’re acting like we saved the world. Again.”

Magnus sighed. “I dunno if they get it. I tried explaining to them, but, well,” he held his hands up, then signed into the mirror, index finger to his temple like he was rubbing out a particularly tough spot with a furrowed expression. They’re having to really think about it .

“At least they’re trying to be supportive,” Alex mused, continuing to trim neatly. 

She had done this so many times before it came naturally at this point. Half an inch below his chin- so his hair would naturally curl inwards- and two centimeters past the nape of his neck in the back. Alex again combed his golden locks into a straight sheet. She quietly passed the cold metal against the side of his neck, bearing down with just enough pressure to slice through. The action produced a sound not unlike plucking a harp string. Alex would be lying if she said she didn’t recall, vividly, pulling her wire against his throat. Sometimes, the child of Loki wondered why he even let her do this at all, and yet his posture was utterly relaxed. Magnus has a tendency to slouch forward at all times, so she kept having to pull his shoulders or press a knee to the small of his back. “Sit up, dude.”

“How much longer do I have to sit here?” Magnus asked, grabbing one of her bulky hairbrushes and clunkily tapping it against the makeup-stained bathroom counter. It was littered with swipes of old foundation and mascara streaks and the odd splotch of toothpaste.

“I dunno, gimme like ten more minutes,” Alex responded. 

“ Ten ?” 

“Well, I could just go get my garrotte and make it quick, if you prefer?” Alex released the damp hair from between her fingers to throw up her hands dramatically. She almost accidentally tossed her scissors in the process, and Magnus instinctively ducked. Dodging projectiles on a daily basis did that to a person.

“No, that’s alright…” the boy sighed and continued his rhythmic drumming.

Once the first pass was done, she set down her instrument and used both hands to shake out his head of hair. When she tousled it, it was like sifting through gilded treasure. Her hands felt dusted with the sparkling magical energy.

“Can I layer it this time?” She inquired.

“Sure,” Magnus mumbled, tilting his head back slightly. His expression was serene, like a content cat getting a head massage. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means it’ll look cooler.”

“Great. I love looking cool.”

Alex brandished her scissors once more happily. “I said the hair would look cooler. Not sure about you .” The boy scoffed. She snipped at it, letting the blades snap at the strands without much rhyme or reason, feathering the tips. Whenever Alex’s scissors glanced against the locks, they popped with sparks of power like bubbles in a glass of champagne. 

“Turn around.” Magnus complied wordlessly. 

Finally, her favorite part. She admired his face for a second, the sun-kissed skin and faded acne scars and eyebags and brows he vehemently refused to let her pluck despite all her nagging. Then, taking the fair hair framing his face in one hand and her steel instrument in the other, resumed cutting. This time, she trimmed his bangs level with his cheekbones, right below his eye. Her fingertips ghosted against his sharp jawline and chin, barely brushing against the side of his face and the few uneven pock marks dotting it. Alex feathered this part, too, getting dangerously close to putting his eyes out in the process.

“Okay, I hereby free you from the curse of sitting still for half an hour,” Alex declared with a flourish, setting down the steel scissors and placing her hands on her hips with satisfaction.

The boy in front of her straightened up and turned back around to face the mirror. He shook out his still-damp hair and fluffed it out with his hands. Magnus squinted and scrutinized his reflection.

“Well?” Alex bit her lip anxiously.

“Looks great, I guess,” he replied. “Not too short.” Magnus had a thing about not wanting short hair. He said it made him look a bit too much like his mom.

Alex paused, before taking his head in her hands, gently as she would one of her fired clay pots, and tilted it back so she could press their forehead together. His just-washed hair smelled like her own eucalyptus and mint-scented shampoo.

“I love you,” he told her, quietly, in the small chapel of her bathroom.

Alex smiled. “I love you, too.”