#ikemeen revolution fenrir

[toloveawarlord]

Pairing: Fenrir Godspeed x MC

Event: Ikerev gift exchange hosted by @sunnyikemen and @ikemenlibrary

Giftee: @kokorokai

wc: 1.4k

a.n: Hello! I hope you like this little slice of Fenrir! Fluff with a little bit of teasing from MC!

Heavy, black boots thudded against the wooden planks of the dock as the Ace of Spades paced over the creaky boards awaiting sight of their incoming ship. The sun had begun its descent down toward the horizon, painfully showing how long he’d spent under its intense gaze. Amethyst eyes squinted under his hand pressed his eyebrows as a shield.

Had the mission been a success or a failure? Did they manage to sail safely for the entirety of the trip or did some ruffian pirates dare attack a Black Army ship?

“Fenrir, sir! There’s been an incident at headquarters that requires your immediate attention.” A panting soldier gave a salute as he struggled to stay upright. Sweat dripped from his hair and rolled down his pale features.

As much as he wanted to remain there for a firsthand report of what had transpired on MC's mission, Fenrir had to tend to this. Animosity between the armies had risen over the past month, bringing about quite a few altercations. He'd been the cause of more than one of those occasions, receiving long lectures from the irritated Sirius after each.

A month of guard duty down in the holding cells beneath the headquarters hadn't quelled his fighting spirit. None on either side had been injured beyond bruises, mostly of their own egos.

Fenrir sat back in the chair behind the large, oak desk after a grueling meeting with his other officers and his "unruly soldiers". He'd advocated for them, and in the end, took the brunt of the punishment from Ray.

Paperwork. The bane of his existence

The room swamped in darkness save for the lamp illuminating the tall stack of papers that required the army's attention. Truly, it was punishment fitting for him, as he loathed having to sit still and read boring documents.

But he’d set to work, attempting to work at inhuman speeds. Eventually, his strength waned. Fenrir couldn’t remember falling asleep, slumped over the desk and papers strewn about in a mess, but it was undoubtedly due to the boredom. His cheek rested against his arm; Fenrir cracked his eyes open as someone poked at his forehead to prod him awake.

“Hard at work, I see.”

That voice.

It struck through his haze of tiredness and brought an unbidden smile to his lips. Beautiful eyes gazing down at him with amusement and a hint of playfulness. Lips pulled up into a dazzling smile despite the late hour. She sure didn't look as though she'd spent weeks at sea, as radiant as ever.

“I heard you were waiting at the docks for quite some time. Were you that worried about me?” Her tone laced with teasing. MC had assured him that this trip to another country would be safe. Mousse had traveled this route many times and never had a single encounter with pirates or ruffians.

Fenrir sat upright in the chair, trying to wipe the tiredness off his face. "I wasn't. I just miss ya, that's all." This had been the longest she'd been away from him, without the ability to even send a letter. He wanted to leap across the desk and smother her in kisses, but his left leg was limp, fuzzy and asleep.

Though, it would be a lie to say he had not been worried. The longer she had been gone, the more his heart twisted within his chest.

“Well, I missed you even more," MC said, snickering at his trouble standing on his own two legs. He'd done something out of line to have this much paperwork in front of him.

Her gaze fell down onto the desk to the beautifully inscribed piece of parchment. A true work of art when it came to these kinds of proposals. “Another one? That’s the eight one in three months.”

MC snatched it off the desk before Fenrir had the chance to stop her. He stood abruptly from the chair, knocking it against the wall, and nearly tumbling over as he only had one good leg. “Give it here. It doesn't mean anything.” He should have thrown it away when he’d had the chance earlier, but the least he could do was read them before turning the poor girls down.

“Ooh, Edith Plume, sounds like a real winner, this one.” MC threw him a mischievous look. She kept her distance while scanning the page. It was almost too amusing to watch him hobble in her direction. “She loves to ride horses, what a surprise there. I bet she’d love to ride you, too.” Her eyebrows shot up as she snickered at him.

Fenrir gave a frustrated groan. “MC, come on, give me the dumb letter!”

“A beautiful songstress, and that’s exactly what she wrote, Fenrir. A songstress. Aren’t you just incredibly lucky to have a songstress in your pile of marriage proposals.”

She had to know.

“And she can dance too. A really talented woman right here. It’s not like she learned any special skills-- wait, she can sew too! She’s too talented for you, Fenrir. I mean, having basic skills that are taught to practically every girl in Cradle, that’s hard to come by these days.”

She had to know that she was the only one.

“This one, I think she is the one- Oof!”

Fenrir stomped his leg against the ground, having just enough control to launch himself at her. Colliding with MC, the two toppled over onto the couch as he'd planned. He couldn't grasp how she could be laughing right now. "Oh, this is funny, is it?"

"Incredibly." MC had entrusted her heart to him, and these letters were nothing more than a desperate attempt by some rich nobles to gain access to the Godspeed fortune. She'd learned to find the humor in them, and then toss them promptly in the trash. "It's not as though I'm going to let them take you from me."

The temperature had surely risen in the room. That would explain the stuffiness that fell over him. His heart pounded in his chest as if he’d run the length of Black Territory and back.

Fenrir crumpled the letter, tossing it away. The anxiety that had riddled his body ebbed away at her tender smile. He was one lucky man to have her. "It's good of ya to say so."

"Shall I write you one?"

"Hm?"

MC could see that his mind had already forgotten the letter, gazing down at her with adoration and love. "A proposal letter. I can list all my best talents. For example, I'm an excellent cook, so you'd never have to experiment using your gun as a tool again."

His laughter made her heart swell. He'd returned to his usual self, plagued no more by dark clouds. "I'd be glad to receive it, but ya know, I've already planned how I want to ask ya to marry me."

"Please, go on."

But Fenrir tapped his finger against her nose. "Nah, I'm not fallin' for that. It's a surprise." A grand surprise. He'd made a whole day out of it, invited all their friends to participate. His hope would be that it would be the second-best day of her life, followed by the very best day of their wedding.

MC had little choice but to relent. It thrilled her to the core to imagine his proposal, their wedding; what it would be like after they were husband and wife. She could wait.

She would wait a lifetime to be married to her true love.

Slowly, her hands reached up, fingers entangling in the lapels of his army coat. MC pulled him down, pressing her lips to his. Their eyes met as the kiss deepened, as if neither wanted to miss a moment of the other. The two only broke apart when they’d become desperate for air.

Fenrir hovered, not wanting to give up that elated feeling washing over him. His breath mixed with hers. “I love ya, MC." He couldn’t say those words enough. The Ace of Spades wanted to shout it from the rooftops and only speak those tender words this close to his beloved at the same time.

“I love you, too, Fen.”

The two stayed there until the early morning, simply being. They exchanged many kisses while cuddling close together. Long and passionate; short and sweet; peppered across the other’s features. On the couch in the office of Black Territory, they whispered words of endearment and shared countless memories in between their inability to stop showering the other with affection.

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