Work Text:
Odin is exhausted. His fingertips are numb from cold. Gentle flurries of snow are coming down around them, wisping from the heavens and adding frigid insult to injury. He has Niles’s head in his lap. He supposes it could be worse, he’s seen worse, lived through worse, but this feels like the scariest thing that’s ever happened.
When Niles was run through with that blade Odin saw red. It was plenty to spur him on in battle… but now they’re alone and he’s limited on what he can do. Niles is in no shape to walk or even be moved, and Odin isn’t a healer. His mother once told him he reminded her of their aunt–that he had wisdom and healing magic within him and she was sure he could surpass her in it. He chose to follow swordsmanship at the time and she never seemed to be bothered by it. Now he’s finally learning magic and his mother isn’t here to guide him, and no matter how deeply he can feel the blood of Naga surging through him, he can’t seem to bring healing magic to the surface. Unfortunately for him, and for Niles, his mother isn’t around to teach him anymore.
Odin looks at the darkening sky. They were out ahead of the rest of the army to scout. They should be looking for them by now… but who knows if that help will arrive before Niles fades? He lifts one hand and whispers a spell that flashes a bolt of lightning above them in the sky. All he can do is this: casting flares and hoping that someone will see them and rescue Niles before it’s too late.
Niles’s abdomen is wrapped in the bloody scraps of Odin’s cape. He was quick to shred it into makeshift bandages to try and slow the bleeding. He’s nervous… because it doesn’t seem to have fully stopped. “Awaken!” He hisses. “You must resist the siren calls of slumber a while yet.”
Niles groans. He’s pasty and pale and caked in blood and dirt. His hair is like starlight that has crashed into the earth and been tainted by her soil. “Mmnot sleepin’.”
The time that has passed just like this, with Odin helplessly praying for rescue and Niles slowly flickering out like a candle at the end of its wick, has been endless. Odin can’t say for sure how long it’s been or will be. All he knows is he can see light fading from his eye and it’s like watching his family leave him behind all over again.
Beyond the flares for help, he keeps talking. Niles seemed annoyed at first, but maybe he understands the purpose. Odin talks when he’s nervous anyway, most times, so he wouldn’t expect it to be so hard but… Niles seems to be dozing, and Odin can’t think of a single thing he wants to discuss. Not weapon names, not the weather, not the way Niles looks so beautiful when he’s surrounded by falling snow…
Panic is beginning to set in, and so is a chill. Niles starts to lull his head to one side. “Niles,” He almost wheezes. “I have watched so many people that I cherish die, with remarkably few exceptions.” He presses his lips together tightly. Niles is too cold. He knows it won’t be Niles’s favorite thing he’s ever done, but he goes ahead and leans down to pull him upright. Niles screams.
It’s heartbreaking. Odin settles to have Niles leaned up against him, with his cheek on his shoulder, and Odin wraps his arms around him and rubs gently to create some friction. If he survives this injury he’s certainly not going to die of the cold.
“ Fuck Odin, did you kill them yourself?!” Niles spits. Yes, he’s in pain… but at least the jolt of pain brought some clarity and awareness back to his eyes.
“I used to think so,” he admits. “My father was shot down protecting me, and my mother… she died protecting us all.”
Niles is quiet. Odin knows that if there’s any bit of Niles in there still cognitive beyond the bolts of pain and blood loss, he would want to know more. He’s been trying to crack the code to Odin Dark’s mysterious backstory for months, maybe years now. Softly, he asks, “From what?”
“The Fell Dragon,” Odin lays his head against Niles’s, selfishly warming his nose against his hair. He bends his legs, and curls his whole body around Niles. He’ll protect him from the cold. He may not be able to heal him, but he can do this until help arrives. Ah, and speaking of, he swiftly sends another signal for help above them. Once done he wraps his arms snugly around Niles’s shoulders. “When I was barely old enough to hold a sword a person that my family greatly respected was possessed by the evil blood flowing through their veins. They killed my uncle–our king–and raised undead creatures to destroy our entire homeland. Soon enough the world was razed into a hellscape… and the only choice we had was to flee from it.”
It’s so odd to be telling this story. He’s not sure he’s told anyone who wasn’t directly involved. It’s much more detailed in his old journals, but even then only Laslow reads those, occasionally trying to pick out who Odin might be taking a romantic interest in or his latest embarrassing escapade. “You’ll think I’m a liar,” he admits.
Niles makes a noise that was probably supposed to be a chuckle but it’s more of a cough. Regardless it means he’s listening–he responded very quickly to the prompt. Odin is glad he’s staying alert. “I do think you’re a liar,” Niles mumbles.
“I forgive you for thinking as much! Were that it was a lie, the tale is remarkable nonetheless. Fortunately for you, you’ve nowhere else to be… so I’ll continue!”
The positive lilt in his voice is a facade, but one he’s mastered since he was a child. He can pretend to be heroic and calm during a storm. He’ll have time to cry when the storm has passed. For now, he has to keep his spirits up… for Niles, at the very least. “We took to traveling back through time, rushing to escape to a world we might still be able to save. If only we could warn Uncle Chrom before it happened again… though it was hard to convince him. He felt a very strong love for this person, you see. They were his dearest friend, and likely far more to him than that, even then.
“Regardless, when we escaped to the past we were scattered through time. I found myself three years early to the events that we needed to prevent, and so I found myself traveling as a mercenary for hire and searching for a weapon that might have helped us in our coming battles.”
He pauses to send up another spell. This time, in response, a whirlwind of leaves, bright and green like summer, swirls into the air. The distance is there, but Odin is sure this must be the work of Brynhildr. He starts to cry! It’s absurd, but he has to blink those tears back and cast another spell to be certain. Leo has a team looking for them. He’ll have thought to bring healers, probably a convoy! All Odin has to do is give them a direction to search.
“Odin?” Niles asks, and his voice is dangerously soft again. Odin lowers his arm and squeezes Niles a bit too tightly around his shoulders.
“Leo is coming. He’s not far.”
“Mhm.” Some seconds pass by Odin with his eyes on the horizon. Then Niles adds, “You’ve got some imagination…”
“If it were merely my imagination, perhaps I could feel braver,” Odin admits.
“Brave..?” Odin can almost feel Niles’s face scrunch into confusion against his shoulder. “You’re brave–ignorantly so.”
“It’s more of an act. Odin Dark: the fearless hero. A legendary wordsmith, almighty soldier… If that’s who I am, then it leaves no room for dark thoughts to cloud my judgment. And… it tends to lighten the mood for others as well. This persona is meant to bolster others.”
“You’re not–” Niles sucks in a pained breath. “You’re not a persona. You’re you. You are,” he waves his hand weakly. It barely leaves the ground. “...a wordsmith. Whatever you said.”
Odin reaches down and takes Niles’s hand. His fingers are cold, so he clasps his fingertips in his own hand to warm them. “If I am in your eyes, then perhaps I’ve done something right. And… if you were to survive the night, perhaps, I could prove my past to you. I have diaries. Trinkets. My mother’s headband. Or you can corner Laslow and ask him to verify the details. He’ll be angry that I told you, but he’d have done the same thing in my place. You may ask him who Owain or Inigo is–though I wouldn’t recommend asking Selena.”
Niles grunts. He’s too weak for a properly respond and it scares Odin. He desperately sends off another spell when he sees Leo’s in the sky. He’s so close to them that Odin can nearly smell the earthy scent of the magic.
He gently shakes Niles’s shoulder just to send a (necessary) spark of pain through him. Niles hisses again. Odin sighs in relief. “I’ll beg you if you like.”
“Do like it when grown men beg,” Niles grunts. He also shifts, a good sign, so that his forehead is pressed hard into Odin’s shoulder and he can adjust the position of his arms to get more comfortable.
Odin nods his head. “Please don’t go. The sky is full of heroes who have passed on, and they shine down on us as stars. I know how desperately you love to watch the moon and stars… but you’re not meant to join them yet. I still need you with me–and were that not reason enough Lord Leo needs you. Please. I’m tired of losing friends.”
…
Days have passed. Niles has been overseen day and night by healers. Jakob, Felicia, Elise… each and everyone has stepped in there to see how he’s doing. This is the lead retainer for a Norhian prince after all. He’s a bigger deal than he may want to admit, and frankly, Leo would be devastated to lose him.
Odin would be devastated to lose him too. He’s since been healed. He’s washed Niles’s blood from his skin and he’s warmed up in hot baths. He’s continued day to day doing both of their duties for Leo, and then further working himself into the ground so that he might forget how afraid he is. Niles is not dead, but he’s not awake either… and there are whispers that it’s gone on for a few days too many. There are concerns that he won’t wake up from this after all… and Odin fears it’s his fault for not sprinting from his side and getting help sooner. Had he left Niles alone in the snow and run to Leo when he saw that magic in the sky, would he have found Niles sooner?
He’s clearing away some of the clutter from Leo’s study. Leo has spent a great deal of time there lately, but he’s also spent time in tactics meetings with Corrin and the other members of the royal family. Odin notices his hands are shaking slightly when he picks up the teacups and sets them on a tray. He’ll carry them to be washed shortly.
He jumps at a knock coming from the open door. Laslow is there, hands behind his back and with his head dipped to the side. “Knock, knock. You look terrible, Odin! You need more sleep.”
“Laslow! I,”
“Hush. I’ve been given orders to take over your duties for the day. Off with you, get to bed.” He steps closer and pulls the glass from Odin’s hands. “Orders of Milord and Prince Leo themselves.”
“I’m fine! A hero is never idle, and I–”
“He’s awake,” Laslow interrupts. Odin’s breath hitches.Laslow’s gentle smile returns. “I slipped in there a minute ago to let him know I’d be taking over his tasks for the next few days while he receives more healing treatments. He asked me if I knew who Inigo was. What did you tell him?”
“N-Nothing! Er, that is, nothing scandalous. I needed to keep him awake, and so naturally, I told him tales of heroes that would captivate his attention! I’m surprised he remembered, but I assure you I told him next to nothing of your past.”
“I see,” Laslow shrugs. “Well if he’s the one you’re alluding to in your entries that’s swooping in to capture the heart of a Scion of Legend such as Odin Dark… I’m sure he’ll hear all about Inigo and his wild success with winning hearts soon enough.”
“I never said–Laslow there has got to be a line drawn with you reading my journals!”
“If you don’t want them to be read, perhaps you should hide them rather than leave them laying out,” Laslow says. He pushes Odin’s shoulder until the takes some steps toward the door.
Odin looks back over his shoulder with a scoff. “I do hide them! Regularly!”
“That can’t be right, or how would I find them so easily?” Laslow hums. When Odin reaches the door, he shrugs his shoulders. “I wasn’t sure what you told him. So I told him that Inigo and Owain are our given names and that I’d like him to keep them to himself. I’m sure he will until he has reason to believe he should share them.”
Odin can’t imagine that Niles would have any reason to spread rumors. He’s more likely to keep bothering Laslow with questions until he gets to the truth.
…
Odin does actually want to sleep. Desperately. The call of his warm bed is so powerful it makes him consider visiting Niles later. Unfortunately, the call of his heart is stronger and so he stops by the room Niles has been kept in to check on him first.
He really is awake. He looks up to see Odin when he comes in, and his eye is bright. It’s so nice to see it not glazed over with pain. “Would you look who it is,” He coos after a moment, “My hero.”
Odin grins at him. “Hardly! I couldn’t take credit from all of the people who have watched over your healing process.”
“Mhm. Here I expected you to brag. Your modesty is showing. Thank you, Odin. You patched me up and kept me alive long enough for help to arrive. I owe you my life–and I’ve only said that to one other person.”
Odin’s heart feels full. He’s just so happy. Niles is fine. He nods his head. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
“For now,” Niles hums.
Odin stands there for a moment before he sighs softly. “I’m going to rest, but should you need me I’ll be at your beck and call with haste.”
“Oh? I think I could learn to like that in a man.” Niles’s lips curl into that gorgeous smirk and Odin excuses himself to blush and seethe with a romantic crisis out in the hall. It kills him that Niles flirts so freely, but that he’s alive to flirt another day is all that matters. Odin has forever to try and win his heart.