Chapter Text
Durin was beginning to think that he didn’t quite feel the cold in the same way that other people did.
He still felt it of course, in a tangible sense― the whip of wind against his face, the tickle of snow when it kissed his skin, the way his hands went a bit numb and prickly when he forgot his gloves on Dragonspine. But none of it had ever hindered or bothered him beyond a mild, curious inconvenience of sensation. For humans, it seemed, the sheer cold proved far more uncomfortable, unbearable, dangerous even.
Not that Durin was complaining. He rather liked feeling as comfortable as possible in his new body. Plus, he would be the last to ever criticize any aspect of Albedo’s alchemy. Some days he still found himself marveling at his form, at how Albedo had taken care to construct the most intricate of details, all of it bringing about new sensations that Durin had never experienced when he was just a small dragon. Maybe this is what humans meant when they said that something was “made with love”?
But perhaps it wasn’t a modification on Albedo’s part, but something about the dragon heart between his ribs that always kept his body running warm. In Dragonspine, Durin’s heart always seemed to beat a little faster, warmer. It’s as if some deep, ancient part of him flared bright and ached like a bruise whenever he caught sight of those desolate snowy mountains.
All of which to say, Durin wasn’t affected by the extreme cold.
But that never seemed to stop the people around him from… worrying.
“Turn around.”
It’s morning in Dragonspine, though the sun still has yet to reach their side of the mountain. The only other sound is the crackling of two lit torches by the entrance of Albedo’s campsite. Albedo’s brows are straight, focused.
“Other arm,” Albedo instructs. Durin obliges wordlessly.
Albedo tugs the heavy, insulated parka around Durin’s right arm before bending down to join the zippers. With one adept tug, he zips it all the way up past Durin’s chin. Then he fastens together some straps so the coat fits nicely around Durin’s torso.
It is, quite honestly, the biggest coat that Durin’s ever seen in his life. While there’s holes cut out in the back for his wings and tail, the coat drops all the way down past his knees and he can hardly move. He feels a bit like a penguin. Not that Durin’s ever seen a penguin in real life before― he’s only ever seen them in storybooks but he imagines they would move like this.
He’s not sure how he could be expected to efficiently collect data samples or fend off any potential enemies while his movements are so restricted. Perhaps Albedo has his own reasons for making him wear this?
Durin debates the merits of speaking up before finally opening his mouth hesitantly. The collar of the parka muffles his voice a little. “... Albedo?”
“There is a hood as well,” Albedo murmurs distractedly, eyes slightly narrowed. “I had it tailored to fit around your horns. It should clasp around here… like this.” The alchemist’s brows raise slightly in what Durin interprets as muted delight when he manages to snap the thick, fur-lined hood snugly around Durin’s face. “Perfect.”
“Albedo…” Durin mumbles, his face bordered in white fur.
Albedo finally looks at him. “What is it?”
“Is this really necessary?” Durin leans back slightly, raising his arms to indicate the almost comical amount of layers that Albedo had bundled him in. He could hardly bend his elbows. “I can’t move very well…”
Albedo blinks at him like he’s gone insane. “Of course it is. The conditions on Dragonspine are never to be underestimated. Even the most experienced of adventurers know well not to take the mountain’s dangers lightly. Worst case scenario, you could die. But before that, you could get hypothermia, frostbite, or catch a cold―”
“Catch a cold?” Durin found that to be an amusing turn of phrase.
“Yes, it means to fall ill from infection.”
“Is that something I should be worried about?” Durin flaps his arms back and forth idly like a penguin.
“Of course it is,” Albedo replies. “You have a human body, Durin.”
“But I never feel cold. How can I catch something I can’t feel?”
At that, Albedo pauses slightly in thought. Durin had gotten distracted making fluffy white clouds with his breath.
“Durin, you don’t feel cold?”
“Huh?” Durin looks at him. “Oh, well, yeah, I usually feel pretty warm actually. The temperature on Dragonspine doesn’t bother me much.”
“I see…” Albedo turns slightly, his face out of view. “I see. It must be Durin’s heart within you. Of course. A… rare oversight on my part. Apologies, Durin, you can take all of this off then. You’re right, there is no need.” He moves to unclasp the collar of the hood.
Usually Durin had trouble reading human expressions, and Albedo’s expression hadn’t changed one bit, but for some reason, Durin got the sense that he was feeling a bit abashed. Maybe he can read him easier because they’re brothers.
And maybe it’s because the sight of Albedo worrying over him had stirred some fond feeling in his chest, but suddenly Durin didn’t want to take the coat off anymore.
“B-but I do like it!” Durin hurriedly says, whirling out of reach and clutching the parka hood around his face protectively.
Albedo stares before exhaling. “You don’t have to try and appease me Durin. I don't want you to overheat.”
“I won't. I still like it,” Durin says stubbornly. “And the fur’s all soft and fluffy. Feels nice on my skin.”
And it’s something you got for me.
“It’s arctic fox fur,” Albedo comments. “I had it specially made.”
“Yes, so… I would like to keep it on.” And I will cherish it forever.
“You insist on wearing it?”
Durin’s dragon tail curls around his torso. He nods vigorously and almost topples over from his own weight.
Albedo lets out a barely audible, amused sigh. “In that case, I have some mittens for you as well.” Albedo pulls out a pair of bright red knitted mittens from his pockets. “And I’ve also brewed us a thermos of hot sweet flower tea.”
Durin smiles into his coat, feeling warm down to his fingertips.