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For the prompt table.
Titles: Maunder, Tell
Rating: PG-13
Fandoms: SPN, Norse Myth
Continuity: Set after Weregild
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel, Loki, Hel, Fenrir. Gabriel/Loki
Summary: Without a body to bind them, they're a little ... lost
Wordcount: 875 for the two
Disclaimer: Not mine
Titles: Maunder, Tell
Rating: PG-13
Fandoms: SPN, Norse Myth
Continuity: Set after Weregild
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel, Loki, Hel, Fenrir. Gabriel/Loki
Summary: Without a body to bind them, they're a little ... lost
Wordcount: 875 for the two
Disclaimer: Not mine
Maunder - (Gabriel/Loki, Hel, Fenrir - 599 words)
Gabriel didn't quite notice it at first. Centuries within one another, the sensation of Loki's presence at his shoulder, at his back, always watching, was familiar. More than familiar to him. So long, so close, closer than any bond before, Loki's presence was the sense of his wings against his back, his grace against his chest, his hair against his forehead. It was part of him, an extension of self. Loki had always been there. Some part of him, even now, clung to the thought that he always would be.
So he didn't notice it at first, didn't count it strange that even now, as separate beings, as two people where once there had been one ... he didn't think it strange that Loki still shadowed him. That Loki still watched him, was still a silent presence at his shoulder. Didn't find it wrong to turn, seemingly alone in Hel's halls, to find his god standing shadowed behind him.
Eventually, though, he thought to wonder at it. Eventually, always watching in his turn, shadowing, slipping on silent wings as once he had slipped into a cave beneath the earth and found a screaming god ... he thought to wonder what they were doing. Thought to wonder what they were waiting for, watching for. Thought to wonder was it simply habit, this wandering around each other, simply the need of the holes within their chests where once they had held each other, or ... or something more.
"He's waiting for you to leave," Fenrir growled eventually, as Gabriel sat with him by the fire one night. Rough and exasperated, and softly, sadly sympathetic as he watched his father skulk around them, as he watched the glitter of Loki's distant eyes. "He's waiting for you to remember what you are, and what he is, and that you no longer need him."
"And you," Hel said, not unkindly, ghosting up behind them, "are waiting to be driven out, for us to remember that you are none of ours, for him to remember that once you caged him." She smiled down at him, ancient compassion in her eyes. "You miss him. Even at his side, you miss him. And you fear to lose him, without the bonds of shared form to hold you together."
"..." He came to his knees, staring up at her in startled fear, and her smile turned somewhat sad.
"You will not," Hel murmured gently, reaching down to touch his face lightly, to hold him softly. "More than blood-brother to us now, Gabriel. You will not lose us. But you should tell him. Tell my father ... that you will not leave." She faltered, a tremble in her hand against his cheek. "If that ... if you intend to stay, that is ..."
"I do!" And it's almost a snarl, almost a plea, wrung from him as he stood, one hand fisted in Fenrir's fur, one reaching up to catch hers, to cling to her. "Hel ... Please. Don't ... don't make me leave ..."
"Never," she whispered, oddly fierce. "Never, Gabriel. But you must tell my father. Please. You must let him know. Stop this ... this maundering, this shadowing in my halls. Please. We have seen enough of it, my brothers and I."
And he paused in his wondering, paused in his wandering, and turned to look at his god across the hall. Turned to meet the dark glitter of familiar eyes, the glimmer of a soul he knew so well, and feel again the hole inside his chest where once it rested. He turned, and remembered.
"I will," he said softly, hands tight against them. "I will."
Gabriel didn't quite notice it at first. Centuries within one another, the sensation of Loki's presence at his shoulder, at his back, always watching, was familiar. More than familiar to him. So long, so close, closer than any bond before, Loki's presence was the sense of his wings against his back, his grace against his chest, his hair against his forehead. It was part of him, an extension of self. Loki had always been there. Some part of him, even now, clung to the thought that he always would be.
So he didn't notice it at first, didn't count it strange that even now, as separate beings, as two people where once there had been one ... he didn't think it strange that Loki still shadowed him. That Loki still watched him, was still a silent presence at his shoulder. Didn't find it wrong to turn, seemingly alone in Hel's halls, to find his god standing shadowed behind him.
Eventually, though, he thought to wonder at it. Eventually, always watching in his turn, shadowing, slipping on silent wings as once he had slipped into a cave beneath the earth and found a screaming god ... he thought to wonder what they were doing. Thought to wonder what they were waiting for, watching for. Thought to wonder was it simply habit, this wandering around each other, simply the need of the holes within their chests where once they had held each other, or ... or something more.
"He's waiting for you to leave," Fenrir growled eventually, as Gabriel sat with him by the fire one night. Rough and exasperated, and softly, sadly sympathetic as he watched his father skulk around them, as he watched the glitter of Loki's distant eyes. "He's waiting for you to remember what you are, and what he is, and that you no longer need him."
"And you," Hel said, not unkindly, ghosting up behind them, "are waiting to be driven out, for us to remember that you are none of ours, for him to remember that once you caged him." She smiled down at him, ancient compassion in her eyes. "You miss him. Even at his side, you miss him. And you fear to lose him, without the bonds of shared form to hold you together."
"..." He came to his knees, staring up at her in startled fear, and her smile turned somewhat sad.
"You will not," Hel murmured gently, reaching down to touch his face lightly, to hold him softly. "More than blood-brother to us now, Gabriel. You will not lose us. But you should tell him. Tell my father ... that you will not leave." She faltered, a tremble in her hand against his cheek. "If that ... if you intend to stay, that is ..."
"I do!" And it's almost a snarl, almost a plea, wrung from him as he stood, one hand fisted in Fenrir's fur, one reaching up to catch hers, to cling to her. "Hel ... Please. Don't ... don't make me leave ..."
"Never," she whispered, oddly fierce. "Never, Gabriel. But you must tell my father. Please. You must let him know. Stop this ... this maundering, this shadowing in my halls. Please. We have seen enough of it, my brothers and I."
And he paused in his wondering, paused in his wandering, and turned to look at his god across the hall. Turned to meet the dark glitter of familiar eyes, the glimmer of a soul he knew so well, and feel again the hole inside his chest where once it rested. He turned, and remembered.
"I will," he said softly, hands tight against them. "I will."
Tell - (Gabriel/Loki - 276 words)
"I see my children had ... words, for us," Loki murmured, eyes narrowed and wary, a blackly gleaming shadow as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms carefully. A barrier, should he need it. Gabriel felt the tiny quiver of a flinch, as he pressed himself as close as he was able, as he curled wings around his god and tucked his face against Loki's shoulder. The jotun clenched startled fists, loosing his arms instinctively to embrace Gabriel in turn, and the angel felt something quiver in his gut.
"Yeah," he whispered raggedly, tugging Loki close. "Yeah, they had words." But he didn't say more, couldn't say more. Not just yet. Just curling close, holding tight, his grace wrapping as near and as fully as it could. Loki, for his part, only tightened wary arms, and tangled fingers in his wings.
"Any hint on what those words might be?" his god asked wryly, after a minute, voice still shaking, just a little. Gabriel smiled sadly, hidden against the curve of Loki's shoulder, and silently conceded Hel the point.
"Just this," he murmured, and pulled back. Just a little. Just enough. So he could reach out, cradle the base of a god's skull, and tug Loki gently into the kiss. So he could press, so softly, and touch something that had been taken from him, something he couldn't bear to let go. Loki, nervous and unmade, kissed him back as softly. As reverently.
"I'm not leaving," Gabriel said, so very quietly, for the first time in his life the one to say it. "Let me stay?"
And Loki, the first time in his life the one to answer, whispered: "Yes."
"I see my children had ... words, for us," Loki murmured, eyes narrowed and wary, a blackly gleaming shadow as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms carefully. A barrier, should he need it. Gabriel felt the tiny quiver of a flinch, as he pressed himself as close as he was able, as he curled wings around his god and tucked his face against Loki's shoulder. The jotun clenched startled fists, loosing his arms instinctively to embrace Gabriel in turn, and the angel felt something quiver in his gut.
"Yeah," he whispered raggedly, tugging Loki close. "Yeah, they had words." But he didn't say more, couldn't say more. Not just yet. Just curling close, holding tight, his grace wrapping as near and as fully as it could. Loki, for his part, only tightened wary arms, and tangled fingers in his wings.
"Any hint on what those words might be?" his god asked wryly, after a minute, voice still shaking, just a little. Gabriel smiled sadly, hidden against the curve of Loki's shoulder, and silently conceded Hel the point.
"Just this," he murmured, and pulled back. Just a little. Just enough. So he could reach out, cradle the base of a god's skull, and tug Loki gently into the kiss. So he could press, so softly, and touch something that had been taken from him, something he couldn't bear to let go. Loki, nervous and unmade, kissed him back as softly. As reverently.
"I'm not leaving," Gabriel said, so very quietly, for the first time in his life the one to say it. "Let me stay?"
And Loki, the first time in his life the one to answer, whispered: "Yes."
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