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mo-mo-and-porkchop · 4 years

Text

Freedom is a state of mind

Vikings Fan Fiction

Chapter 10 (Chapter 9 here)

*I do not own any part of the Canon Vikings characters. It is simply my interpretation. I make no profit off of this.

**I do own the original characters and everything associated with them.

Tagging for updates: @whenimaunicorn , @captstefanbrandt , @kenzieam , @mblaqgi , @wish-i-was-a-mermaid , @microsmacrosandneedles , @babeyouareenough , @youbloodymadgenius , @yourpurplequeen

She finished taking care of him for the night before making her way away from his room, stopping in the doorway. Nervously she glanced back at him.

“If there is nothing else, I will return in the morning to change your dressings,” she added flatly.

As she waited for him to break the silence she felt as she would be sick. Her stomach did flips and her heart raced. Her fingers trembled as she held to the frame of the door. The memory of the raids and what she'd lost had gripped at her heart, squeezing it mercilessly. She hadn't been hit with such grief since the tragedy had struck and desperately wished to be relieved of her duties for the night. Thankfully he waved her off in dismissal.

He shifted an arm up under his head as he laid in bed after she'd left. He still felt that initial tug in his gut every time she was near. It was a puzzling feeling. One he had neither felt nor understood any better as the months passed. He couldn't help but wonder what it was that pulled him to her the way that it had.

His mind wandered over the possibilities as sleep began to weigh against his eyelids. Ivar's eyes fell to the doorway as he rolled over and for a fleeting moment she stood before him. A smile tugged at his lips as slumber washed over him.

------

Ivar's brothers couldn't help but notice he, more often than not, was off in the forest and that she was also m.i.a. along with him.

"Where do you think he goes?" Hvitserk asked Ubbe, nodding in the direction of their brother as he caught sight of him crawling from town.

Ubbe watched until he disappeared among the trees. "I don't know," he offered simply.

"He is different, yes?" Hvitserk asked turning back to his brother, his curiosity getting the better of him.

He couldn't deny the change in Ivar's behavior. One most would never notice, but the sons of Ragnar were brothers and saw things hidden to the rest of the world. It hadn't taken him long to notice Ivar's calmer demeanor. There had been no outbursts. No instigation. Not even an arguement between him and Sigurd.

"He has been much more quiet lately, yes," Ubbe agreed.

A wide grin spread itself across Hvitserk's face. He'd been wanting to figure out the mystery ever since the air had begun to change around Ivar. Asking Sigurd was out of the question, the youngest brothers' relationship already shaky at its best, but he wanted help.

This was his chance.

Ubbe's eyes finally found Hvitserk. Whenever he got that glint in his eyes they always ended up in trouble. He doubted now would be any different.

"No," Ubbe said firmly, though it was hard to resist the urge to go along with whatever scheme Hvitserk was planning.

His grin deflated immediately. "No what?" Hvitserk asked feigning ignorance to Ubbe's presumptive denial.

"No to whatever it is you are plotting," Ubbe said definitively.

"What are you denying our brother now?" Sigurd asked casually as he came upon his brothers at the market.

"Nothing," Ubbe lied, his eyes staying with Hvitserk a moment longer. Regardless of Hvitserk's involvement in any mischief, the eldest son of Aslaug knew absolutely nothing good would come from Sigurd finding out about Hvitserk's offer and tagging along.

"Then let him do whatever it is he wants to do," Sigurd offered in defense of Hvitserk.

Hvitserk's eyes caught sight of a familiar, raven-haired slave headed off in the same direction and quickly sided with his older brother.

"Ubbe is right," he said with a quick smile. "It is nothing."

His brother looked at him quizzically, but declined to dig further into his sudden change of heart, hopeful he had listened to him for once.

"I have found something much more entertaining to do anyway," he lied with a sly smirk, motioning to Maragrethe as she walked past through the crowd.

Sigurd and Ubbe followed where he pointed; Sigurd smirking deviously and Ubbe's jealousy creeped up knowing what the two would end up doing. Hvitserk left in her direction, but changed his path for the woods as soon as he was clear of his brothers' sight

------

"No. Like this. Ég er Glohg-ving-uhr ehld-hoos-feef-uhl pah-kah-roif."

"Ég er Gløggvingr eldhúsfifl bakrauf," she repeated with a prideful smile. Ehrlana felt she now knew enough to pass for any other Northerner thanks to Ivar. Surprisingly.

"Good," he said with a slight chuckle.

"What?" she asked growing suspicious.

"It means I am a stingy good for nothing ass," he admitted letting his laugh grow.

"Ivar!" she said feigning offence.

She pulled a bit of grass out and tossed it his way, but laughed all the same. He batted the blades away, his laugh dying down.

"You know enough. What else is there to teach you?" he asked with a shrug.

"I guess nothing," she said convincingly with a sigh, lying back on the ground. "You are useless now."

"I am not useless," he started angrily.

She didn't fight verybhard to contain her laughter.

"That is not funny," he said with a slight pout in his voice.

She shifted an arm under her head and watched as the clouds drifted by in the early evening sun. "I was only joking," she admitted.

Ivar was the one thing that kept her safe among Kattegat and its residents. Everyone feared his wrath and wouldn't dare touch what was his. Including her. But it wasn't his protection alone that made him useful to her. It was their unspoken friendship. He was the one person who, ironically, made her feel normal. Declan was a friend and an ally, yes, but he still treated her as her father's daughter - as a fragile princess. Ivar simply let her be and she returned the favor.

"I know that. I am not stupid," he countered; though a smirk tugged at his lips.

Their ease had been an unexpected side effect of his lessons. One he hadn't fought. He wouldn't deny it felt good to have at least one person seemingly accept him. He also wouldn't let it cloud his judgement of her however. She was after all a slave. He knew what levels they would stoop to in order to gain their freedom. Ehrlana hadn't yet tried anything near as disgraceful as Margatethe, but he wasn't letting their budding friendship distract his knowledge that one day she would. They all did eventually.

-----

The scene unfolding before Hvitserk was far from what he had expected - though he hadn't been one hundred percent sure of what he would have found, but Ivar getting along with her was the last thing he'd imagined.

-----

Ehrlana watched the clouds as they drifted by. "You could teach me the ways of your Gods," she offered as a solution to their educational plateau.

Ehrlana had been watching as the others participated in the celebrations. She’d always been warned about the pagans and their violent nature. While the sacrifices were brutal, she began to understand why they did the things they did. She wasn’t sure if it was the shock to her system at such brutality or the passion they all seemed to share for their rituals, but whatever the reason, their steadfast belief in the Gods fascinated her.

"Won't your Christian God become jeslous," he added with a laugh.

Her family, their people, the neighboring countries…all of them practiced Christianity. But Ehrlana was different. She always had been. As she grew, her need to question her path in life had grown along with her. A non-believer was valueless to her father and he had been furious with her after voicing the curiosity; making sure to keep her aversion well hidden and contained - never surpassing the initial defiance.

"This my home now, yes?" she replied, ignoring his mocking inquiry.

Unexpectedly his heart jumped with her words. Excitement sent a slight chill over him. "Is it?"

She sat up and looked directly in his eyes. It had been long enough that she knew she was here indefinitely. Even with the scare of being discovered, her family had yet to show. If Kattegat was not her home by now it never would be.

"I have not left." Though they both knew as a slave she had no power to decide on travel plans. "I have been here long enough to accept your city as my own. Kattegat is home. You have taught me your tongue well. Now I wish to learn your customs. Of your Gods. The harvest celebration will soon be upon us and I want to be a part of it. I can think of no one better to show me how," she added playing to his ego.

He forced the smile that attempted to show itself away. He would never allow her to see how excited he was to convert a Christian; even if it was just Ehrlana.

"I will think about it," he said with a shrug and slid from atop his rock to leave.

Ehrlana smiled, knowing he would eventually agree. "Then I will wait eagerly for your decision," she said playfully as she stood and followed him. Both unaware of his brother's prying eyes.

-----

As the weeks turned to months Ehrlana’s paranoia over discovery relaxed more and more, eventually fading away. But it would soon return.

She was back at the market restocking ingredients for another batch of Ivar’s balm, it now a part of their nightly routine. And even though he never admitted it, she saw how well it was working. His had pain visibly lessened and she’d been forced to wake him each morning. It was a small victory, one unacknowledged, but a victory nonetheless.

Addis caught sight of her familiar face and followed Ehrlana from stall to stall. His breath nearly caught when she turned his way. He'd been right. Ehrlana was in alive. And here, in Kattegat.

As she made her way to the next stall his voice called out her name, just as Ivar crawled around the corner of a nearby building. The unknown man rushed over to her spouting off something about raids on her homeland and her father. Declan's warning of her discovery and the fear she'd felt came flooding back.

This is who Declan had warned about!

She desperately wanted the man to stay quiet. She grabbed him by the arms to stop his excited movements. He continued rambling on as her eyes darted around looking for Ivar. He had slowed to a stop, hidden and watching. “Ní rachaidh do chabhair ar aghaidh,” she said with a rushed smile.

Speaking her native tongue was the only way to ensure Ivar wouldn’t understand anything if he was near. Her voice was soft and feminine, but there was a ferocity behind it that conveyed her seriousness.

"Ach ní féidir linn labhairt anseo. Buailfimid anocht. Seolfaidh mé focal. Anois téigh.” Her gaze eventually left him and found Ivar. “Téigh!”

Her chest tightened. She could feel the heat of her skin as it flushed with fear.

Her eyes found his and she wrestled it into control and tried her best to prepare for what was to come next.

She glanced over her shoulder at Addis while he rushed from the square. She couldn’t help but notice he left in the direction of Declan’s as he disappeared behind one of the many buildings. When she turned back she fully expected to be met with a barrage of questions from Ivar, but he'd continued on toward the Blacksmith's. Strangely he had decided not to confront her, though she knew he'd seen them.

------

Addis fled to find Declan to tell him of his news. "Declan! Declan, she is here!” he said between breaths when he’d caught up with him. “Ehrlana….I have found her,” he finished, closing the gap between them.

His voice fell to a whisper. As if the two were conspiring against the Queen of Kattegat herself. But this was their way out of this place. This was their way home. He didn’t need listening ears to ruin his plans of leaving.

Declan’s heart dropped. His mind went blank, desperately trying to find a way around all of this. “In a few months time you and I will be in the King's hall, feasting on our behalf,” Addis continued excitedly before Declan could speak. "I’m sending word tonight."

Then, just like that he’d gone, leaving Declan more worried than ever. He had no idea what to do. He'd tried his best to keep Addis from seeing her. He'd run circles around the two for weeks now. The man had no clue just how much danger he could be putting her into. Declan knew Addis was only thinking of the wealth and fame that would come along with such a rescue. He knew the man would spin a tale of some damsel in distress that he valiantly saved. He may have been his father's friend, but he was a storyteller first. Addis could make shoveling manure sound impressive. Especially if it would give his reputation a boost.

-----

Ivar's attention was grabbed with the initial shouting Addis had done. It was the same man who'd been with Ehrlana earlier. He met with someone Ivar had never seen before. His watchful gaze remained focused on the two men when her name was mentioned. From his perch in the blacksmith's he could see everything. He only wished he could hear them.

Sparks flew from the blade he was sharpening, landing in nearby piles of hay unnoticed. Smoke slowly began to rise.

"I do not wish to burn alive today," Sigurd said to his brother as he handed his axe to the smith. Only Sigurd's irritating voice could pull him away from the scene unfolding before him. "Perhaps you should stop staring at your boyfriend and pay attention to your work," he added pointing out at the two men.

Ivar sneered at his brother. Only Sigurd could manage to pull him from the scene. Thanks to him he missed most of their conversation.

"Jealous?"

Sigurd huffed and turned his attention to the smith, watching as his axe was sharpened. Ivar's eyes went back to Addis and Declan, but they had already disappeared. He would simply have to ask Ehrlana later who he was and what exactly he was up to.

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texasthegreatdestroyer · 7 years

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One Heart, Two Souls: FFX Fan fic

Chapter 1: Part 1.

Cold… That was just one of the things I felt. It was certainly an improvement from five minutes ago.

Then, my lungs had filled with salt water. I remember vomiting it up with what I presumed to be blood, as it left an iron flavor in my mouth.

What a fabulous combination. Blood and seawater. At some point, I must have hit my stomach really hard, that would probably explain the mix of blood and bile.

But what did I have in me to care? My feelings had been washed with a majority of my blood in the sea. The same blood that poured out of my wounds.

The wounds that reminded me of my poor decisions, my failures, and of course, my death. Dying came to me fast, but ended so slowly. I can still feel the sick irony, as the god of the corrupt religion laughs in my face. Waiting, regenerating, plotting which of it's followers to kill next. I felt bitter, but that bitterness turned to sweet salvation and sugar coated numbness, well mentally that was.

The right side of me hurt like hell. Something around the wounds made me hurt. Seawater maybe? No, this felt grainy. My wounds stung and my body ached.

It seemed like every time I tried to move a muscle, it felt like the limb attached to it was being severed from the rest of my body.

I wasn't sure what was worse, my increasing body aches? My inability to open my eyes? Or the the slight but selfish contempt I had for two people I called my best friends?

My eyes, I need to open them. I can hate myself later. I did eventually tried to open my eyes, but when I did, my right one wouldn't open.

The blood on my eye started to clot and eventually scabbed up enough to keep me from forcing it open.

I did manage to get my left eye open though. What I saw was… sort of dark. My good eye and bad eye stung. Using what I knew so far, it was sand that was irritating my eye and wounds.

Somehow, I had face planted into sand. When I figured this out, I lifted my head up quickly. I had finally made it to shore.

I wasn't sure how I ended up here, or in the middle of the ocean for that matter.

I found myself on the beach of a coastal city. It was a big city, but it couldn't have been Bevelle.

I had been all over that city, and knew every landmark, but none of the knees around me looked familiar.

It didn't take me long to figure out where I was, as I noticed that it was busy with machina.

Could this be what I think this could be? Is this Jecht's Zanarkand?

This meant I was able to fulfill my promise to Jecht, but worth how I was feeling, I spat at the idea of fulfilling the promise, as I still felt contempt him and Braska leaving me behind. Leaving me alone.

As I looked around, I noticed somehow staring at me. It was a child. He looked to be six or seven, but that was not the key thing that stood out about him. He looked like Jecht.

The only thing I could mutter out to him was, “Who… are you?”

The boy looked at me horrified before he ran screaming. “Maaaaa!”. Instinctively, I got up quickly and grabbed his wrist, but that just made him scream more.

“LET GO OF ME!”

“Wait! I think I know your father!”

At hearing this, the boy kept quiet.

“Is your name Tidus?”

The boy was about to answer, but someone came out of their home. An elder looking woman she was. She shouted at us from afar.

The whole beach was made up from boat houses, and she lived in one.

“What's going on over there!?”

We made the mistake of looking over there, it just her yell at us.

“Are you alright young boy?”

She stared at me, then decided it was fit to yell at me next. I didn't really appreciate the attention.

“You! You leave that poor little boy alone! I'll call the police!”

I had no idea what she was talking about. What was a police, or the police? I didn't stay to find out. With the little energy I had, I got up and ran.

To my surprise, the boy followed. We eventually made it somewhere where we'd be safe to talk in private.

“You're Jecht's son, are you not?”

The boy flinched at my question. I could tell that just his father's name made him sick.

“Everyone knows my stupid old man, what makes you special?”

“I knew him on a personal level. I spent three months traveling with him. We were friends. He asked me to find you and your mother.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“I'm only here to bear news off your father to you and your mother, and to help out with you as needed.”

“That doesn't answer my question.”

“Look, it's hard to explain. I just need you to trust me.”

There was silence among us. The boy did finally reply after a couple minutes. All though it was monotone, out was the answer I hoped for.

“Fine.”

I followed him as he guided me to his home. He lived in a fancy little boat house, perfect for a small family of three.

Despite it being a nice, sunny day, there seemed to be something dark and unbecoming of the bright, little house.

The sound of the child's voice snapped me out of my daze.

“I'm going to go get my mom, wait here.”

He opened the door, the inside looked unwelcoming. The boy continued into the dark pit of despair called a doorway. I had to advert my attention to something else to keep myself from running in after him, as I was terrified of what may have been lurking in abyss.

I caught the eyes of the neighbors next door. They were a young, attractive couple. Looks of terror formed on their faces, so like Tidus.

Was my condition really that revolting? As I continued to think about it, the smell of rotten flesh wafted from my body.

I looked down at my decomposing wounds to see that I was squirting blood everywhere as that people next door were watching and reacting. It had occurred to me that my condition was that bad.

My focus was interrupted with Tidus’s return. He walked over to me, but I kept my eyes glued to the dark corridor, waiting, expecting a beautiful woman to illuminate the dark vibes I was getting from interior. Besides, Jecht was supposedly the best blitzer in Zanarkand, and maybe even the world, he would have to have a wife prettier than any of the gorgeous women who flocked to him at the end of the game, or anywhere he was seen.

Finally, a wisp appeared in the doorway. What I saw left me in shock and aww. It was a woman, she would have been beautiful if it wasn't for a couple issues.

Unlike a normal person who emerges in order of a silhouette to a full human body. She starred as a wisp and came out a silhouette.

She was freakishly skinny, her skin stretched across her body like tight clothing. From a literal standpoint, she looked like flesh and bones.

You could see every curve of her skeletal system. The woman was as pale as a ghost. She looked very sickly, almost as if you even slightly touched her, she would shatter.

However, what stood out about her the most was her eyes. They were a shiny, bright, blue, yet appeared to be incredibly dull.

She had darkly outlined bags under her eyes as if she never slept. She looked like the creation made by a depressed artist who felt like spilling their feelings onto the paper.

Her eyes were glazed over like freshly cut glass. She looked like someone who would smile a lot, but not as of now. The one thing the glimmer in her eyes and her smile had in common other than being beautiful. Gone.

Disappeared with Jecht himself, kept in the pocket of his chaos torn pants, as he walked to his demise in the hands of the culprit himself, as he would turn a small family of three into a smaller family of two, leaving it in shambles.

It was very clear she herself was lying on a deathbed, created by her husband's absence and her inability to go on. Her death would be by her own weak, trembling hands. The woman in her frail state spoke.

“I'm sorry, I can't help you. We don't have any medical supplies to take care of you with.”

“That's not why I'm here ma’am.”

“Oh? My son said differently.”

We both stared at the boy. He replied to his unwanted attention.

“Hey, someone had to say it. You look like a walking corpse.”

His mother of course didn't approve of his comment.

“Tidus! That's impolite, apologize.”

He hung his head low in reaction to the unwanted reaction before he spoke again.

“... Sorry.”

“It's not a problem.”

His mother's focus shifted back towards me now.

“Why are you here then?”

My heart dropped. I wasn't ready to make things worse, but I made a promise.

“I've come bearing unfortunate news… I'm here to inform you that your husband's death has been confirmed… I'm sorry for your

loss.”

She fell to the ground shrieking.

“I knew he was gone, but no one ever found his body! Knowing this, I believed he wasn't dead, that he'd come back to us, my sweet, sweet Jecht! That's been my only hope for months!”

I wanted to comfort her, but I wasn't sure what I could do for her. She had just lost her husband. Although I was also grieving his death, I didn't have it in me to cry.

Looking down at Jecht's wife, I could tell deep down, her heart bleed sorrow, rage, and love. Love that was clearly not reserved for her son.

He tried to go comfort his mother, but when bee did, she just about snapped his head off clean.

“Mommy, it'll be alright-”

“DON'T TOUCH ME!”

She harshly ripped her hands from her son's gentle grasp. I was stunned to see how she treated him. Tidus began to cry, but it only managed to make matters worse for him. She replied with venomous words.

“Grow up and stop crying! You're being pathetic! You HATE him! You said son yourself, so why are you crying!?”

She clearly had a short fuse. The boy cowered. He wiped his tears at his mother's command. He stayed long enough to glare at me, then stomped into the house and slammed the door behind him.

I wanted to tell her the way she was treating her son was wrong, but I couldn't risk her taking offence to what I would say and not let me see him again, so I kept quiet.

Yet again, I kept my eyes attached to the door, while recognizing the so called fruits of my labor.

They were rotten and stunk of failure. A sad and emotionally abused son and a distant mother, that's what was gained.

His mother whispered random words, they sounded of suicide. I looked to find het skin even more tightly stretched across her skull as her eyes got big.

Suddenly the air begun to fill with a bad smell, something other than rotten flesh. It was urine.

I looked below the woman to find a dark yellow puddle under her feet, and a wet spot on her jeans. You could tell she didn't drink much by the discoloration of her… nevermind, too much detail.

I was shocked at the site, and also disgusted. I've had to bear news of fallen comrades to their families numerous times in the past, but I've never gotten this kind of reaction before.

I didn't think grief pissing one's self was anything more than a tale the higher ups told the cadets to disturb them in the warrior monks, but she did so.

I find it funny that this had to happen with the wife of my goner of a best friend. I guess life decided since it was a special occasion, that the reaction had to be equally special. Simply put, a godly, almighty, “Fuck you” from the world to me.

I'm horrible with emotions, I always have been. I watched as wet comps of years ran down her face powerless.

Not too long afterwards, she had passed out. I hadn't noticed, but when I looked away earlier, Tidus had pulled up a stool and watched us from the window of the door.

It took him awhile to move the stool and come outside, but he finally did. He came at me, pushing, hitting, and screaming.

“GET AWAY FROM MOMMY!”

Hee growled at me as I restrained him. I got him inside and locked him in his room long enough to get his mother inside.

I couldn't just leave her to lay in a puddle of her own filth, so I picked her up and took her to the bathroom.

I let Tidus out, asked him if he could help me get his mother cleaned up. After enough fussing, he agreed to help.

There were many weird contraption in the bathroom, but I got her unclothed, and put her in the one that looked closer to a bath.

I wasn't surprised to see that she loomed entirely like a skeleton. However, I couldn't help but stare at her bony structure.

Of course, when Tidus came in, he took my intentions to be impure.

“Stop staring at mommies chest, you creep.”

“That wasn't what I was looking at, I swear!”

“Uh Huh… sure.”

“I promise! She's just… really skinny.”

“Mommy doesn't eat like she used to. She doesn't really eat at all. The doctor told her she needed to start eating more, or she would get sicker, but she never listened. I try to get her to eat, but she won't eat for me!”

He sounds like a mother himself, complaining about trying to get the children to eat right. He stared at me quietly as if he was waiting for something. I wasn't sure what he wanted from me.

“Aren't you going to turn the water on?” He said snarkily.

I wasn't sure how this thing worked, I turned the left knob hesitantly. His mother began to shiver uncontrollably. The boy put his hand in the water.

“It's cold genius! No wonder she's freezing!”

I turn the left knob back to its starting point, turning the water off, then I turn the right knob. I saw steam coming up, so I automatically thought a win for me, but then she flinched in discomfort.

He sticks his hand in a second time, but pulls back immediately.

“Ow!”

He looked up at me and scowled.

“Are you trying to cook her?! You're hurting Mommy!”

“I'm really sorry!”

“No! Just get out!”

I fulfill his wishes and go out to look around for a fresh towel and a set of clothing. It doesn't take Tidus long to call me back in there. He has me watch over her long enough to go grab some things. Tidus comes back with some rubbing alcohol, duct tape and some napkins.

“Stay still!��

“Why?”

“Well, I have to patch you up! I can't just have you bleeding everywhere! You're cleaning the blood up by the way, especially on the carpet, if you don't, mom will be maaaad!”

“That's noted, but are you sure using duct tape and napkins is a good idea?”

“Are you being ungrateful?”

I kept quiet. Duct tape and napkins were at least something. That and probably a better alternative than the local hospitals. Them trying to get my medical records would have been one giant headache all together.

I watch him and cringe at the sting of him stumping a lot of rubbing alcohol on my wounds. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from cursing up a storm. Seriously? Did this kid have no restraint? No idea how painful rubbing alcohol is?

He eventually moved on to putting the fanfic napkins on me and tapping the wounds up.

“You're very lucky mom was talking about throwing these out, or else I would have used paper napkins... But still, keep those hidden just in case.”

“Duly noted.”

He finally did finish, and to my surprise, his method wasn't all that shabby. The bleeding stopped, and the wounds were cleaned. My only issue is that he taped my bread entirely to keep the napkin concealed, this is going to hurt to pull off later.

I continued looking around for what I needed. I didn't take me long, I found her clothes in her dresser, I avoided the panty and bra drawer entirely, I already had taken her out of her clothes and had to put her back in them, I wasn't about to be the guy to look through her potentially sexually arousing undergarments.

I was making my way down the hall to the bathroom when Tidus comes running my direction. I knew something had to be wrong.

“Quick! Help me! Mommies head went under the water and I can't get het up!”

I run into the bathroom quickly and pull her up from the water. If I'd waited any longer, she would have drown. I sit her up long enough to put the towel and clothes down, then hold onto her and kept her head above the water long enough for Tidus to finish cleaning her up.

Afterwards, Tidus grabbed her forty clothes and stuck them in one of the two matching machina. I would later find out that they were a clothe washer and dryer.

I drained the automatic bath and took my time drying her off properly, then put her clothes back on her and carried her to her bed, then I tucked her in.

By the end of this, I stunk of not only rancid flesh and body odor, but a touch of urine. I considered using the bath, but it wasn't my place to do so without permission, so I just left it alone.

Tidus and I sat on the deck quietly. It was an hour before he went in to check on his mother. I could tell he was worried.

When he came back out, we spoke briefly, but the awkwardness turned to silence after the following conversation.

“Is your mother alright?”

“Why do you care?”

His words were cold and untrustworthy. What I said next probably didn't help matters any.

“I wouldn't know what to do if she dies.”

“Don't say she's going to die!”

After a while, we went back inside. There, he spoke to me for a second time. I wasn't off the hook just yet. I was to be thoroughly investigated by a seven-year old. First a doctor, next a detective. This kid has quite the future ahead of him.

“Why were you sent here by my father?”

“I was sent here to bear news off your father's passing, also to help out with you if necessary, in other words, your father's will.”

“... How did he die?”

“He died a hero's death-”

“Don't call my father a hero! He's not!”

There was a pause of silence between us. A few seconds later, I heard shuffling coming down the hallway. I watched as the thin lining of his mother appeared from within the shadows. Instantly, I got up, my first instinct being to guide her back to her room.

When we got back to her room, she said she wanted to talk to me in private, so I shut the door. That was a big mistake.

- To be continued.

#auron

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