Chapter Text
On a particularly sweltering afternoon after a hard days work, Fern lays under a tree, clad in nothing but her underdress because it is just that hot. Never would she be so exposed in the open under normal circumstances, but the heat has fried her brain and made her delirious with the need to cool down. No streams near by to dunk in, no breeze to push her hair back, just the sad amount of shade that was finally just wide enough to eclipse her entire body.
It’s not enough to cool her down, but it is a welcome reprieve from the rays of the sun.
That is, until Stark drops his axe next to her. It lands with a dull thud and he falls to his knees, then his face.
Fern can barely conjure the energy to turn her head to gaze upon him, much less mutter a quip about him seeing her like this. In a thin white tank, the bandages around his forearms are becoming unraveled, partially exposing the corded muscle underneath. He must be so hot in those black pants. She almost feels sorry for him as he lays there, looking dead.
“Fern,” he whines, muffled by the grass beneath, “please tell me you can make snow or something…”
“Don’t you think I would have by now if I could?” she sighs, looking back up at the leaves above her. “There’s not enough room for you here.”
“Fern,” he whines, again, finally rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with one of his arms. “Managed to hunt a rabbit…”
“That’s good.”
“Doesn’t that deserve at least a sliver of shade?” he asks when she says nothing more. She hums a dismissive sound and he turns on his side. She can feel his pleading gaze. Again, he calls her name, “Fern…”
“The rabbit should be dressed and cooked now, so it doesn’t rot in the sun.”
“Oh, come on,” he groans, getting to his knees and inching toward her. “You’ve been laying here all day, give me a break!”
When she turns her head to fix her glare on him, he recoils.
“You’re all spread out, though,” he tries, pointing at her arms that are spread far and wide across the small expanse of shade. Her legs are, too. Her lack of response prompts a huff from him and he scrambles to his feet. “I know you’re gonna call me a perv,” he grumbles, kicking off his boots and peeling away his socks. She blinks, her gaze softening as he reaches for his belt. “But it’s just necessary, okay? So please…” His shirt comes off and his pants fall, revealing a pair of shorts underneath. “Just, don’t look, okay?”
Fern feels her face get hot as she whips her head the opposite way, staring directly at the dark wood of the tree trunk. Stark sighs behind her and she hears him fall onto the ground, probably laying down. After a moment, she dares to peer over, finding his face covered by his shirt to block the sun.
The shade has grown a few dozen centimeters. It’s far enough now that her entire wingspan doesn’t take it up completely. The sun crawls lower, albeit painfully slow, but in a mere hour, she estimates there will be enough space for both of them.
Or, perhaps, there is enough space now.
With a deep inhale, she rolls to her knees and scoots herself to the base of the tree before plopping down on her bottom. He senses her shift and pulls his shirt away just enough to peak at her. When their eyes meet, she tilts her head. Hesitantly, he pulls the shirt off his face and props himself up on his elbows, his eyes following her hand that pats the ground beside her. His eyes flit back up at hers, as if asking permission, and she nods, that hand beckoning him now.
When he flings his shirt to the side and scrambles over, she smiles a little. He hisses slightly when his back meets the trunk of the tree, and she cranes her head back to see a small cut where the wood protruded. He reaches behind him, the spot just out of reach and he groans, hanging his head forward.
“You need to be more careful,” she tells him softly, reaching behind him to swipe the spot of blood away. Feels him tense under her touch and she looks at him curiously. When she pulls the hand between their faces, he winces at the sight of red on her finger. He takes her hand in his and wipes it with part of the bandage that’s unraveled, muttering an apology. Her face heats up slightly as her hand lies limp in his, his movements careful to get it off in one clean pull.
“There.” He turns her hand over in his before setting it back in her lap.
She inspects the hand, holding it in front of her face while he snaps the protruding part of the tree off to create a more smooth surface. Finally, he relaxes against it. Her hand drops and she casts her gaze at him. “Don’t you want a bandage?”
“Too hot,” he mumbles, pulling his arms up. “Honestly, I should take these off, too.”
“Let me.”
She’s not sure why she offers and she almost takes it back when his expression turns suspicious. Her cheeks puff irritably, eyebrows dragging together, and the suspicion on his face softens. “Oh…okay.”
So very cautiously, he extends his arm towards her, keeping too much distance, and she takes it. Slowly, she starts close to his elbow, taking the frayed end of the bandage in her fingers and cupping his wrist with her other hand. She lowers it so it will sit in her lap and starts tugging the material away, looping it in deliberate motions. She feels his eyes on her face and peaks up, blinking at him when their eyes meet. “Not good?”
“No. I mean, yes. Yes, good.”
She suddenly feels self-conscious under his regard. “Look over there, then, please.”
“Right.” He sighs and leans his head back, shutting his eyes.
When she finishes with that arm, she sets it next to her and carefully balls up the bandage. Then, she reaches across to pull the other across his chest and repeats. Once she has both undone and tucked neatly away, she realizes he’s fallen asleep. She hums, blinking slowly as she comes to the secondary realization that she hasn’t been able to look upon him like this, ever. Dressed down to near nothing, the only times she’s witnessed it were during times of necessity. Dressing a wound, emergency bathing after nasty situations, and of course, purely accidental glances. But now, it is just the sun keeping them in their state of undress, and Stark is asleep. Despite her misgivings, it is nice to feel so relaxed around someone.
It helps that Stark is easy on the eyes, too, she supposes.
Fern soaks it in before Frieren returns from her research.