Work Text:
Nidavellir was cold.
That was Hearthstone’s first impression of the realm, once he’d realized where he was . Nidavellir was cold and it was dark and it took practically no time for the elf to realize he was in a very bad position.
And he was tired. Gods, he was so tired. He hadn’t realized how badly he messed up the rune, but now he was curled up in the warmest spot he could find in this godsforsaken realm, jacket pulled around himself as he watched dwarves mill around.
They paid no mind to him.
Well. At least this proved Alderman right. Hearthstone should focus on other things. He was sure that his father would love to rub that in his face, speaking the words to add additional salt to the wound, but he’d likely not get a chance.
Travel between the realms wasn’t exactly an easy task, and he’d trapped himself in maybe one of the least habitable realms for an elf. Sure, Jotunheim would be worse, but Hearthstone was nearly positive that Jotunheim was uninhabitable for anyone not from Jotunheim. And the creatures from Jotunheim, well… there was a reason that they were from Jotunheim.
Hearthstone pulled himself up to his feet, misjudging his step almost immediately and clattering from his place, smacking something on the way down.
He lay on the ground, letting out a low sigh of breath. Well. That was embarrassing, but at least no one was there to see him. At least he could lay here on the ground a little while longer while he figured out how in Helheim he was going to do anything more than—
Something hit his side. Hearthstone opened his eyes slowly, and then wider, fast. A dwarf was poking at his side, saying something he (clearly) couldn’t hear. He stared at the dwarf, trying to process his words.
Finally, Hearthstone sighed and tapped his ears. The dwarf was talking too fast, and he wasn’t used to his dialect. That paired with the bone-deep exhaustion that this realm was causing really made it too much to try to focus on what he was saying.
The dwarf took a second to understand before crouching down to be on Hearthstone’s level (ha. In any other situation, he might have even laughed at that. A dwarf, having to make himself smaller to talk to an elf!).
Slowly, enunciating and exaggerating every sound, the dwarf spoke: “Do you need help?”
Hearthstone blinked, surprised first by the fact that he’d understood and taken the time to apply that to how he was speaking to Hearthstone, and second…
He was offering help?
Hearthstone nodded after a moment. There was no reason to have any pride right now: If the choice was to let this dwarf help him or die on the streets of Nidavellir, the answer was incredibly obvious.
“Okay.” The dwarf said more after that, but he was speaking too fast again. Hearthstone followed some of it (he didn’t know what was happening to him; he didn’t live far), but a lot of it was lost to closed eyes and too fast words.
Some things don’t need to be heard to be understood, though. The dwarf extended a hand to Hearthstone to help him up. Standing up seemed like an impossible task, but this dwarf didn’t seem as small as some of the others in his species, he might actually be able to support Hearthstone’s (admittedly small) weight enough that they could get to wherever he lived and at least hopefully he wouldn’t be freezing, even if it would still be too dark to be truly hospitable.
He could last a little bit longer under the artificial lights, he supposed.
Hearthstone reached out to grab the dwarf’s hand and both of them fell to the ground. So much for a helping hand.
A heat warmer than anything Hearthstone had felt radiated between the two of them, warming every cold and slowing bone in his body almost instantaneously. He stared at the dwarf in shock.
“Did you feel that?” Repeating his earlier method, the dwarf spoke.
Hearthstone nodded in response, still looking at him.
Well, wasn’t that something?
This dwarf, he was Hearthstone’s soulmate.
As the ground came rushing back to his face with a probably concerning speed, Hearthstone mused… It could have been a much less attractive dwarf, at least. This one had a very nice face.
He woke up a little while later, directly placed underneath an artificial light. He curled up under the light, blinking a few times to wake up more fully. Where… was he?
Had the dwarf, his soulmate, taken him home? That must have been a sight! Carrying a fallen elf through the streets of Nidavellir, however far it was to get to his apartment. Hearthstone sat up a little more, looking around.
Yep. He was definitely still on Nidavellir. There was a distinctly dwarven look to all of the furniture in the room, even if the kitchen table was covered in scraps of fabric. He started to stand up, though he still felt faint. It was a little warmer in the apartment, though Hearthstone could tell that he was still hardly functioning.
That was just his luck, wasn’t it? On top of everything else that had happened in his life, his soulmate was a dwarf. His soulmate lived in this realm that was trying to kill Hearthstone simply by existing (though, to be fair, that wasn’t the only thing that hated Hearthstone for existing).
He looked around the apartment for his soulmate. He should probably ask his name. And why he’d bothered to help Hearthstone in the first place.
He stood up slowly, careful not to hit his head on the ceilings. They were lower than he was used to, considering the general population of Nidavellir wasn’t anywhere near the lofty ceilings in Alderman’s estate.
His face fell again at the thought of his father. He should be at home, trying to pay off Andiron’s wergild. He shouldn’t be in Nidavellir. He shouldn’t be anywhere but where he belonged. He had to…
His eyes caught on something on the chair he had been on and he reached over to pick it up.
It was a note.
Hey—
Didn’t catch your name, sorry! I ran to the shops to pick a few pieces up, I’ve got an idea to warm you up. Elves need sunlight, right? I’ll be back. There’s food and stuff around if you want it, not sure if you’ll be hungry. Stay put, you looked like a couple of steps were going to do you in. I’ve pointed… all of my lamps toward that chair. Is that enough for now?
Soulmates, huh?
We’ll talk (or… something, gotta figure that out too!) when I get back.
My name’s Blitzen, by the way. I’ll catch yours when I’m back. Make yourself at home.
-B
Blitzen.
Hearthstone smiled at the note, setting it back down and curling back up in the chair. Blitzen was right that trying to go anywhere was probably a bad idea right now, so he stayed put where he was, closing his eyes and waiting for Blitzen to get back.
Blitzen announced his arrival by flickering the lights a few times. Hearthstone looked up at him, raising his hand in a wave. Blitzen waved back before holding up one finger, shoving the fabric scraps to the side to put a bag on the table, grabbing a notepad and scratching out another note.
Good to see you’re awake! I’m gonna try to build something to help with the whole sunlight thing—why are you in Nidavellir at all?
Also, what’s your name?
Tell me if this isn’t the best way to communicate, by the way. I assume you were saying you were deaf? I can try to talk slow, but I don’t want you to have to tell me to repeat myself or something… unless that’s what you like better? I don’t know.
Hearthstone was handed the note and a pen as Blitzen stepped away, starting to work on something. He walked up to the table with him, sitting across from him while he wrote out his response.
I was practicing rune magic and ended up in the wrong realm. Thank you for helping. I’ll be gone as soon as I have enough energy.
Writing notes is okay—I am good at reading lips if you want to talk slowly. I prefer Alf Sign Language, but I doubt you know it?
My name is Hearthstone.
He pushed the note forward, and Blitzen immediately took it.
Rune magic? You can do magic? That’s pretty impressive, haven’t heard of a ton of elves trying to practice that. Then again, haven’t really heard a lot about elves, being from Nidavellir. You’ll have to tell me more, later.
And you don’t have to leave unless you want to. Soulmate or not, I’m happy to host. I’ve got room!
Never used ASL, but I’m willing to learn if you want to teach.
Nice to meet you, Hearth.
Hearthstone ran his fingers over the words, looking up at Blitzen with a small smile.
He would learn ASL for him. He wanted to host him. He called him Hearth.
Soulmates existed for a reason, the gods’ determined perfect match for you. It had seemed odd that his perfect match would be a dwarf, but with a single note, Blitzen had offered… everything Hearth had never been offered before. A friend, a roof with no strings attached, support of his endeavor into magic, someone who wanted to communicate with him the way that he wanted to, and didn’t see that as a problem.
Warmth spread through Hearth without even needing the physical touch. Blitzen was enough.
I can teach you.
Thanks, Blitz.
It was a short note, but it got the point across. Blitzen smiled back at him, nodding his head.
Let me get this working so we don’t have to worry about you passing out anymore, then we’ll start in on some lessons.
Hearthstone nodded his head, not bothering to respond to the last note. He rested his head on his arms, watching as Blitzen got to work. It was obviously well-known how practiced dwarves were at building things, but Hearth had never seen it in action. He was incredibly focused while he worked, though he was talking to himself, Hearthstone noted with a smile.
He was probably talking to Hearth, considering he kept looking up before making a face like he’d forgotten something. Hearth couldn’t help but laugh. Everyone at Alderman’s estate new from birth that Hearthstone was deaf, so these sorts of mistakes weren’t made. Blitzen just wanted to… keep him involved.
It would be a learning curve for both of them.
Oh, gods, that implied that Hearth was going to stay. Was he? He wasn’t sure how long the offer to stay lasted, but Blitzen had said that he could… Nidavellir wasn’t exactly a great place for an elf to live, but it wasn’t like he was living the best life on Alfheim.
He could teach Blitz sign language… practice his magic. Go back when he was sure that he could fulfill the wergild and get out of Alderman’s control forever.
(Not go back at all, he considered. Alderman would never think to look in another realm, if he cared to look at all.)
Maybe Hearthstone was getting ahead of himself, but… if Blitzen found a way, he wasn’t afraid to stay here. It could be good for him. For the first time in his life.
Hearth was no stranger to making decisions for himself that no one else agreed with. Alderman insisted he write on the board (somehow, Blitzen using nearly the same method felt so much less humiliating, because Blitzen was still treating him as a person. Responding the same way, instead of expecting him to read his lips and keep up with a conversation, even with other things going on. Giving Hearthstone the agency to make his own choice if that wasn’t how he wanted to communicate). Hearth insisted he learn ASL. Alderman told him magic wasn’t worth his time. Hearth continued. Again and again, everything that he was doing was his choice.
Maybe being impulsive was fine in this case too. Landing in Nidavellir had brought him to his soulmate, and Hearthstone had never felt so much like… a person. Like he was respected for being a living being, instead of being beneath everyone else in the room, even Alderman’s staff.
They had a lot to discuss before Hearth stayed in Nidavellir full time but… it was an option. A really good option.
He wasn’t sure when he drifted off, but he woke up to a soft touch to his shoulder, warmth flooding through his body. Blitzen.
Hearthstone opened his eyes again, looking up at the dwarf, who was grinning. He gestured to a machine sitting on the table and Hearth tilted his head. What is it?
“I’ll make something better when I’ve got a little more time, but this is at least a prototype. I figure I can convert a tanning bed for the final product, but this should have enough light that it will be close enough to the sun,” Blitz spoke slowly, rubbing his hands off on a rag, and tossing it over his shoulder.
Oh. He’d finished his machine. Blitzen offered Hearth a hand, and he took it, walking over to the table to look at it.
Blitzen held up a hand, telling Hearthstone to wait, and ran to grab a notepad.
Sorry—I figured it would be easier to explain in writing. I think with the heat that comes from the soulbond, I can add to the light from the machine, if you’re okay holding my hand for it? And then we can use this for as long as you need to feel a little better, if you want to go back to Alfheim (I assume that’s where you were?). I’ll still work on something bigger, though, in case you want to come back. Or to stay. For a little while.
Oh, he did not want to go back to Alfheim, not when Blitzen was treating him like this. But he probably would have to. He nodded his head, taking Blitzen’s hand while he turned the machine on.
It sparked a little, making Hearthstone nervous, but it quickly started to take effect. It wasn’t the same as the sunlight, but he was right about the heat making it a little bit better. He curled up in the chair underneath it. Blitzen let go of his hand after a little while, disappearing from the room.
He came back with a long strip of fabric and held it out to Hearth.
“To keep you a little warmer. It’s just a scrap, but I can make you a better scarf when I’ve got a few minutes. After the tanning bed.”
Hearth smiled, wrapping the scarf around himself.
The machine worked in increments. Hearthstone was going to need at least a few days in Nidavellir to get back up to his former health, and that also meant he had to find his way back to Alfheim and Alderman’s estate.
He explained this to Blitzen, and Blitz immediately set up his couch as a guest bed. For himself.
A small argument later (and by argument, Hearthstone meat that he laid on the couch and closed his eyes until Blitz gave up… he wasn’t too proud to admit it), Blitzen was in his bed and Hearth on the couch.
A few days turned into a week… and more…
The weeks were filled with learning—ASL lessons for Blitzen, explanations of what he was building for Hearthstone, magic demonstrations, showing off his sewing room and the clothes he had designed, both of them trying to teach each other’s recipes…
They fell into step like they’d known each other their entire lives.
The tanning bed’s completion didn’t take long with Blitzen’s full focus on it, but he still wanted to make sure that Hearth actually had enough energy, it wasn’t just temporary.
(Or at least that’s what he said.)
Again and again, they found an excuse for Hearth to stay, even without him saying a word about Alderman.
For another day, another week, another month…
They leeched each other’s warmth in the cold Nidavellir nights, Hearth eventually moving into Blitzen’s bed with him when he complained one too many times about being cold.
(“I think cold is the first sign I learned! Every morning! Blitzen, I’m so cold. It’s so cold,” he’d complained, but he’d moved right over and offered Hearth a spot in his bed instead of another blanket.)
They’d sit side by side on the couch, having conversations mixed with writing, spoken word, and sign language. For every word that Blitzen said, Hearthstone would try to translate it, so he could pick up ASL faster. He was doing well, even if he knew the signs that Hearth used most more easily than the rest.
It was comfortable. Hearth wasn’t sure he’d ever had a comfortable home before. In Nidavellir of all places, too!
It was one of those nights things... progressed.
Do you want to stay permanently? The signs were still a bit clumsy, Blitz unused to using them, but he smiled at Hearth nonetheless.
Hearth stared back at him.
Yes.
Was that even a question?
And… Blitzen trailed off, struggling for a second with the signs before looking at Hearth. He looked nervous this time. Be my boyfriend?
His soulmate… nervous to ask him out. He must have looked that one up on his own, too, because Hearthstone had never taught him the sign for boyfriend. No matter how close they were to each other, he was not going to push his luck by Blitzen asking him why that was a sign he thought was important to teach.
(Because he definitely would have questioned it, and Hearthstone probably wouldn’t have gotten away with just closing his eyes that time.)
But Blitzen had found it for himself. Because he wanted to ask Hearth.
And Hearth must have not responded fast enough, because Blitzen was quickly raising his hands, probably to backtrack, and—
Hearth took his hands, effectively silencing him, and pressed a kiss to his lips.
Even in the depths of Nidavellir, he’d never felt warmer.