Work Text:
It was about two weeks passed the great Night war, the battle of the Natlani against the Abyss. Since Ororon had somehow helped the Archon unleash that mystical, terrifying power that blew a hole in the sky. Since he had received an ancient name.
And over six thousand people had died.
It felt like a bad dream now, that everything had gone back to normal. He tended to the aphids, his vegetables, he practiced spells to cleanse the environment of abyssal corruption.
The only thing that really changed for him, was Citlali's bad mood and strictness concerning his archery.
He had only ever used his bow to hunt animals before. Until the battle of course. Killing a monster wasn't that much different from killing a large predator in theory, but it required a heavier draw and greater control over his vision.
"Am I interrupting?" a familiar, but unexpected voice called out to him. His head whipped around and the Captain stood just outside the edge of his fields, politely, as if waiting to be invited in.
"Oh, hello!" Ororon said, "I didn't expect you."
He tugged off his gardening gloves from his hands and tucked them into his belt. He didn't like the feeling of dirt on his hands and under his nails.
"I was in the area," The captain said. It seemed like a lie. But granny said that it wasn't polite to call people out on them.
He held a small basket in his hands.
"My company found this on the roadside. It seems to be injured."
Ororon took the basket from him with great interest and lifted the lid. Inside, on an assortment of leaves and flower petals sat a swollen, pathetic phlogiston aphid.
Ororon gasped and hurried over to his workbench.
"It's good you came to me," he whispered, because he didn't want to scare the insect.
The Captain followed him to peek over his shoulder.
"This sweet thing must have completely exhausted itself trying to help her swarm."
He looked through his assortment of concoctions and potions Ifa handed out to him, and when he didn't find what he was looking for, he grunted in irritation.
"Can I do something to help?"
Ororon shook his head.
"Here! I found it, I knew it was a good idea to make a new batch."
He uncorked the jar and sniffed it, yep, shackleberry juice, and then picked a small, tender leaf and poured just a small amount of it on it. He placed it in front of the aphid.
"please. eat that, it will make you fine again," he whispered to it.
The aphid fluttered weakly with its wings, as if it understood him.
Finally, Ororon's creased brow smoothed out into a smile.
"How long until it gets better?" The Captain asked, trying to match the softness of his tone to Ororon's. Unfortunately he could do nothing about the baritone of it. It seemed to shake the ground, it resonated in Ororon's chest cavity.
"Just a few hours to a day at most, and then it can fly to join the others by itself," Ororon smiled.
The Captain nodded, "thank you."
Ororon nodded, "no, thank you. Not everyone considers aphids worth saving. Or animals at all."
The Captain raised his hand as if to pet Ororon, but then seemed to think otherwise and dropped it again, flexing it self consciously. Ororon wished he hadn't.
"Every life is important," the Captain said.
The words hit him square in the chest.
The Aphid had been a welcome distraction, but suddenly Ororon realised he had been very sad, for a little while. He had watched so many of his people fall to the blunt weapons and sharp claws of abyssal monsters. Dead, lifeless bodies with their chest brutally smashed, wheezing out their last breaths in agony. Or those with bleeding injuries that would not have been lethal, if it weren't for the abyssal corruption cloaking them in dark, sick fog as if it was going to devour them whole.
So many had run towards him, sheer horror on their faces, pleading for help, but the Rifthound was faster than his arrow. The monsters hadn't discriminated between warrior and medic, adult or child, human or saurian. The abyss just wanted to devour, to destroy and defile the land.
Until the Archon called him to her side, all he could do was watch.
He was an ugly crier. When he was a teenager he'd hit himself in granny's bathroom and looked into the mirror, just to see. All the girls in Inazuman light novels looked pretty crying. But he got particularly snotty.
He bawled into his hands like a child, hiding his face. He didn't want the Captain to see him like that. He must already think of him so weak, after Guthred's little stunt.
"Sorry," he sniffed, and wiped his nose on his cape, willing to stop himself from crying, but it was no use.
"Don't use that," the Captain said gently and pushed a handkerchief into his hand, "here."
Ororon felt even worse but he used it none the less. It smelled nice.
Then he was pulled into a clumsy embrace. That's how Ororon found out his face fit perfectly into the crook of the Captain's neck.
"I'm sorry," he sobbed again. The Captain's hands ran up and down his back in clumsy, comforting movements.
"Do not apologise," the Captain said gruffly, "our grief makes us warriors."
Ororon sobbed again, but he felt the pressure on his chest lighten. He wanted to apologise, but that would only displease the Captain, he figured.
"Thank you," he mumbled and wiped at his eyes, stepping out of the Captain's embrace. For a second he felt as if the Captain held on for a little longer, but surely that was just his imagination.
They barely had anything.
"Have you eaten yet? I made some vegetable stew."
The captain straightened up, "I apologise, but I must head back to my men."
Ororon tried hard not to let his disappointment show. Of course, the Captain feels uncomfortable taking off his mask around others. Why would that be different around Ororon? He really wasn't special. There must have been hundreds of locals like him, providing insight or guidance to the Captain.
No, granny wouldn't like him thinking so lowly of himself.
"At least take some with you," he argued, "I made way too much and Ifa says radishes will make him turn green."
The Captain just sighed softly, "I think green would suit me."
Ororon smiled, knowing he'd won.
Quickly he fetched a jar and filled in a generous portion. He really had more than enough. He added some bread in a basket, briefly worried that this might be too heavy but then disregarded the thought again. This is The Captain he could send a Mitachurl flying with a punch. This would be no trouble for him at all.
"Make sure to reheat it," he told the Captain and handed over the bag.
"Thank you, I will."
He received the bag with both hands, as if it were something special and precious.
He turned to leave but before the Captain could leave his garden Ororon hastily followed him.
"When will I see you again?"
He turned around slowly.
"I assume soon. But I promise I will not leave Natlan without saying goodbye."
Ororon worried his lip between his teeth and nodded.
"Be safe."
Instead of a response, the Captain just raised his hand to his face, cupped his cheek and pressed his thumb on his lower lip.
Then he swiftly turned around and left and the moment was over as suddenly as it had come.
Ororon's heart was hammering and his head was spinning. His face felt hot and his body was frozen in place.
He looked after the Captain's shadow until he disappeared behind trees and cliffs and then he slumped down on the ground and took a large gulp from his waterskin, unable to think about anything but the touches he got today.
He held quiet conversation with a particularly beautiful turnip, hopeful it would know a thing or two about desire.
"Any useful advice so far?" someone spoke directly into his ear.
Ororon jumped and covered his ears with his hands.
"Ifa! I told you to stop doing that!"
Ifa cackled and ruffled his hair.
"It's funny."
"It hurts."
"Sorry. Did I interrupt something important? I'm sure your big brother Ifa can give better advice than a radish."
"Turnip."
"I'm sorry. Turnip."
"I'm fine, no need, thank you."
Ifa rocked on his heels, "aw, are you pouting?"
"No. Isn't there a squirrel with a sprained ankle that needs your attention?"
His tall friend settled down.
"Don't joke about these things. I'm actually asking because I saw you had a visitor who sounded a lot like Granny Iztli's newest archenemy."
Ororon huffed.
When he wouldn't talk Ifa inched his face closer, as if trying to deduce whatever happened from his pores.
"Wait--did you cry? Did that asshole make you cry?"
Why would he assume that? The Captain wasn't like that. He was an ally of Natlan and respected by the Pyro archon as well!
"What? Of course not!"
He pushed Ifa out of his personal space.
"He just brought over a sick aphid and I gave him some soup."
"Isn't he supposed to be stationed at the stadium?"
"So, what?"
Ifa shrugged.
"Look, I'm sorry if I upset you."
Ororon continued to pout.
"Citlali thinks he's a bad influence," Ifa said.
Is that supposed to make me open up? Ororon wondered.
Ifa shook his head, "I'm just worried about you."
"I'm not a child." Ororon felt his ears and cheeks heat up. He felt like Ifa was implying something else. But he was never good at understanding implications. Why wouldn't anyone just say what they meant?
"The opposite actually."
Ororon frowned.
"You're a man now," Ifa tried again.
Oh, so that was what he was implying? Betrayal stung, but it was worse when it came from a friend.
"I was always a man!" He almost shouted and balled his fists. His emotions were a confusing tangle and another outburst would make him snowball and he did not want that right now.
Ifa raised his hands in a defensive gesture, "No, no I mean yes, I meant a man as in an adult. You're not a boy anymore."
Ororon relaxed again, still sensitive and unhappy but temporarily placated. Implications.
They said emotional instability might be a side effect of his incomplete soul. Or his abandonment. Who knew, really.
"...Oh," he said.
Ifa sighed again, he seemed really desperate now. Whatever he was trying to say, he was hesitant to just say it out loud.
"The Captain, is he... seducing you?"
Oh.
Ororon's face flamed up. That's what he meant with adult. It seemed really obvious now.
"What? No! I just helped him navigate the leylines. He said he'd go after granny instead."
He said the last part quietly.
"Don't tell her that. She's already mad at me."
Ifa grinned, "I'd be surprised if she didn't know already."
Yeah, but Ororon still didn't want to talk to her about it.
"So he threatened to kidnap Citlali if you didn't help him?"
Ororon bit his lip, "it wasn't exactly like that."
Ifa buried his face in his hands, "could you please just tell me what happened?"
Ororon spent a couple of seconds thinking. What harm would it do? He didn't have to mention that night. And anyway, what's happened, happened. And he couldn't let Ifa think that the Captain made Ororon do something against his will. He would never do that.
Twenty minutes later, a flying squirrel had found a comfortable nest in Ororon's lap and happily napped away. He softly stroked the creature's fur as he talked.
"That's all," he said, squirming a bit, unsure what Ifa would think now.
"Fucking shit," Ifa cursed.
"Okay," Ororon said, irked.
"It really sounds like something you would do," Ifa grins, "almost committing high treason because of a crush? You doof. I'm glad you got caught."
Ororon winced.
"I know I messed up, okay? But I don't think he was wrong for it."
"He was ready to sacrifice you for this plan."
"He didn't know about the soul thing. He saved me."
"So you were ready to sacrifice yourself for his plan."
Ororon shook his head, "it's not like he let me. When I was in danger he gave up our plan to help me."
"Good man. Don't you dare feel guilty for that, okay?"
Ororon nodded blankly. Of course Ifa knew that this was a sensitive topic for him.
"They shouldn't have told you," Ifa hissed, "that ritual was a messed up plan and I'm glad it failed. Sacrificing a child for a couple of dead people? I can't believe you felt you still had any obligation after they tried doing that to you."
Ororon didn't know what to say. Did he do something else wrong?
"I'm sorry."
"It's not you who should apologise. I don't like that he put you in danger, but you seem to respect him a lot. Your captain thinks your life is valuable. Even before the whole hero of the night wind thing, you're a genius in farming and hunting-"
"You've given me this speech before," Ororon reminded him with a small smile.
Then he thought about what the Captain had said previously. Every life is important.
"Well do you believe me now?"
Ororon nodded.
"Alright. But if he tries something, you zap him, okay?"
Ororon laughed. As if he wouldn't love that.
"And cause another diplomatic incident?"
Ifa grinned, "I'm sure Mavuika would understand."
Ororon's smile slowly fell. Ifa really couldn't imagine that there was something going on. He should be glad, but for some reason he felt a bit disappointed.
He didn't want any more lectures, and for sure no one would let Ororon see the Captain again if he told them what happened between them. And what else he wants to happen. Maybe it was useless to hope for more anyway.
He thought about the touch of the Captain to his lips. The coolness of the metal of his gloves.
Or did the Captain want more, too?
