We're Caught up in the Crossfire (Aiden)

[Hinrik]

Hinrik threw his axe at the target. It landed with a thud just left of center. He frowned as Grendel loped across the back garden woofing gently at something he couldn’t see beyond the brick wall that encompassed the garden. She turned around to look at Hinrik wagging his tail as she did. He’d spent enough time with the dog that he knew that something must be over there. It was probably the neighbor’s child, a sweet little thing that Grendel had come to adore. Though that wasn’t saying much. She adored all the children in the village. He was pretty sure that soon she’d be taking herself for walks around the village purely to visit all the children.

Hinrik walked over to the target to retrieve the axe. Grendel met him there, wagging her tail and then looking pointedly back at the wall. “We’ll go for a walk in a bit, Gren,” he told her as he stooped down to give her a firm pat. She was looking better these days now that they had fattened her up. Her fur was glossy though still brown. She was still a mutt of indistinguishable breed. She still only had three legs. But she was a good girl who liked people and always came when she was called.

Grendel swung her head around suddenly, hearing something that Hinrik hadn’t and then she loped in the direction, following the brick wall of the garden to the side of the house where there was a wooden gate that led out towards the front of that house. She gave Hinrik a little woof that wasn’t quite a bark, but was certainly a command. Hinrik was striding over in a moment to open the gate for her. “Alright,” he said as he watched her lope around towards the front of the cottage where the front garden was hemmed in by a pretty picket face. “Wait for me,” he called, knowing full well that Grendel was likely too busy begging someone for pets.

He rounded the corner and what he did see stopped him in his tracks. That was the last person he’d expect to see at his house. “Aiden.”

[Aiden Mumble]

It had been brought up several times in their letters that Aiden may visit. She had said a firm maybe, which she was half certain Hinrik would know meant no. Even saying maybe was uncharacteristically kind of her. He wouldn’t expect her to come. It was too much, too much for her to come into his space, surrounded and unsure. Yet, he’d brought his sister into it. He had warned that if he told his sister maybe, she’d be relentless in asking Aiden to come until she eventually agreed. Then Aiden had done the absolute stupidest thing she could have imagined, because she was up late one night, tired and feeling a bit trapped in her parent’s home. She told him to tell her maybe again. Now her “maybe” was no longer a resounding no, but an actual, honest, maybe. Which meant, regardless of Bryn's voice on the matter, Aiden herself could not stop thinking about it.

She’d made several pros and cons lists and always ended up tearing them up in frustration when the pros got too overwhelming and embarrassing even in the privacy of her own thoughts. She’d have to tell her parents if she was going since she was home for the summer and largely taking care of both her mother and her new little sister since she was born. She’d probably have to tell Hinrik if she was coming. Or, maybe, she’d just...go? No, that would be ridiculous. He argued with herself close to a full month before, one day, after brushing her teeth, she stared at herself in the mirror, and bullied herself until she stuck the toothbrush in her backpack and headed for the door.

Slipping away from her parents wasn’t exactly easy. When she told them she was going to visit a friend as she slipped on her shoes they were so disgustingly excited that they hugged her for way too long. Aiden finally shoved them off when her mother grinned impishly and asked her if it was the Viking boy back from his heroic war.

“I’ll be home...later,” She’d said vaguely, then closed the door behind her. Well. There was no turning back now. The only thing worse than what she’d just done would be coming back and watching her parent’s faces fall when she told them she’d changed her mind.

Traveling to the Beowulf household wouldn’t take all that long, thankfully. Aiden was well versed in magical travel since she used it so often to get to and from school. She set her mind on stubborn annoyance to get through the trip, telling herself over and over that she would be an absolute coward if she turned back. There was a portal and then a pensive train ride and then…she was in front of a picket fence feeling blurry and confused and trying not to panic. She should have notified him in literally any way. This was insane! She was literally about to turn around with the sharp knowledge that suffering cowardence was far better than barging into Hinrik’s family home unannounced and empty handed, but then a sparingly three legged dog was bounding toward her.

“Grendel,” Aiden said softly, without thinking. She was a scruffy looking thing, three legs and couldn’t be happier. It was a cruel trick played by the universe, knowing Aiden would absolutely have to pet her which provided just enough time for Hinrik to round the corner and spot her. Aiden pulled her hand away from the pup and stood bolt upright like she’d been struck.

“Hinrik,” she managed, voice guarded as her body tried to sort out one feeling to grab on too among the millions spinning around her heart. She shuffled her feet for a moment, but found there was nowhere to go, she couldn’t run, she couldn’t approach.

“Hi.”

Stupid. She clenched her teeth and let her eyes dance from one of Hinrik’s legs, to his fingers on the other arm, to his shoulder then found she couldn’t bear to look at his face and look beyond him instead.

[Hinrik]

Hinrik couldn’t have predicted that Aiden would be standing here in England at his front gate, looking as if she was fleeing. He hadn’t expected her to come. He had expected her maybe to be a firm hard no. It had been too much to expect that she’d actually come all the way to England after he’d been swept away from the village over the winter. It was a shock that he had showed up at her door in the first place and then another shock that he’d gone just as suddenly as he’d arrived.

Mum had cautioned him that she would need time. Well, she had actually looked at him with a lot of sympathy and said “Wakati.” It was swahili, but it meant time. And his mum meant that they both needed time. She was right, of course, but Mum usually was right about such things. They both needed time to adjust to the way things were and the ways in which they were both hurting.

But Aiden was here, completely unexpectedly and unannounced. And she was petting his dog, the one he’d written about. “You’re here,” he said, still a bit dumbfounded. He wasn’t sure this was quite possible. Maybe he was hallucinating from lack of sleep.

“Did you take the train in?” he asked. He knew it was a stupid question as soon as it was out of his mouth. “Of course you did. The portal’s not close enough to walk.” He gestured to the house. “Do you want to come in? Have a cup of coffee?” Hinrik paused and then shook his head. “We don’t have any coffee actually. We’ll have to go to the shops.”

Hecrossed the drive so that they weren’t continuing to converse with so much space between them. “Sorry, we weren’t expecting you. I’d have gone to the shops.” Looking at her up close she looked better than she had over the winter. The dark circles under her eyes were likely from Adaline, but she had told him that she was minding the baby. He wasn’t sleeping much these days either. “Do you want to come in for a nap instead?”

[Aiden Mumble]

Hinrik began to ramble, which was so unlike him that Aiden's chest seized up with a horrifying urge to laugh. She swallowed it down with the bitterness of guilt as he frantically jumped from one thought to another in hopes of accommodating the sudden hostile intruder in his front yard. Silly boy. She was resolute in her silence as he spoke. Her seasick brain slowly stumbled toward answers it couldn't reach before Hinrik answered himself. As he crossed the yard, his words dulled into blurry shapes. She recognized the tune of his accent like an old, comforting song, but the meaning behind them gave way to the bruises under his eyes. The new scars peeking out of his clothing. The gruesome ghosts renting space behind his expression. She suddenly felt twice as tired as when she arrived. I was so worried I was going to hurt him and the world hurt him anyway.

It took her too long to force her head back up from where is was staring at a shoulder in a fog. She realized he had stopped speaking, but it took another long moment for her brain to catch up with what he said. A nap. Naps were always good. Would they nap together? Ridiculous! Aiden physically shook the thought from her brain and blinked her eyes a few times.

"Tea," she breathed, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. She should apologize for barging in, she should apologize for not listening, she should apologize for being so cruel to him for years- particularly when he was off fighting in a bloody war where he could have used just a bit of hope and happiness from her. She wanted to say it. She should say it. She was a bit older now, she'd been living through her own kind of war. She was, perhaps not wiser, but certainly less ignorant. He was owed a least some sort of acknowledgment. She should apologize.

"Lets just...tea is fine," she said instead, turning toward the door and trying to remain upright. Silly girl.