i met you in the dark, you lit me up [Freyja]

Subject: i met you in the dark, you lit me up [Freyja] Fri Feb 23, 2018 6:38 pm

Hakon was having, to put it mildly, a rough evening. After he closed up his shop for the night, he walked into his house to find his dog, Fenrir, curled up in front of the hearth. That in itself was not unusual, what was unusual was that the old dog didn’t greet him. Even when he was having a rough day, when his legs were stiff and he was tired, he would always wag his tail and lift his head to be stroked. But today, he didn’t. Hakon had rushed to him immediately, only to find that Fenrir had died sometime during the day, and he was immediately consumed by a grief so raw he could barely breathe. He’d known, logically, that this day would eventually come. He’d had Fenrir for nearly fifteen years now, and the old dog was one of the only constants in his life.

He’d buried the old dog in his yard, under the tree that he liked to lie under during the summer, and then he proceeded to go to the tavern and get more drunk than he’d been in years, and with every ale he found his melancholy growing. Fenrir was dead, and he loved Freyja and he wasn’t with her, and the sadness was a living thing in his chest, threatening to claw its way out and rip him to shreds, and he couldn’t live like this. He could remember feeling a grief so raw and searing only once before, so long ago that all he remembered was the horrible helplessness of the feeling, and Hakon isn’t even realizing what he’s doing as he’s walking toward Freyja’s house.

He stands below her window, grabs a handful of pebbles, and chucks them lightly at her window. But he’s drunk and clumsy, and some of the pebbles bounce off the wall, but some do hit the window. Just to make sure she knows he’s out there, he starts calling her name, but his voice sounds strange to his own ears. He’s slurring his words, obviously, because he’s so drunk he’s swaying as he stands. But his voice sounds thick, too, almost like his nose is stuffy, and his cheeks are wet.

Hakon is shocked by the fact that he’s crying. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried, and he hates this weakness and he hates this sadness and he’s so full of guilt that Fenrir died alone that he can’t help it. He wipes angrily at his cheeks but still a few tears drip from his eyes. “Freeeeeyjaaa,” he calls softly, hating the way he slurs her name, hating the way his voice sounds because he’s crying, and hating that all he wants in the world is Freyja. Because there’s no way she could ever love him, not when he’s just a drunken crying idiot with a dead dog and a grief that’s threatening to tear him to pieces.

After what had been a perfectly normal day for Freyja, she’d gone to Hakon’s shop to talk to him about all the things she’d finally decided to acknowledge about how she felt about him. It had taken her a long time. Too long. Probably about five years too long, if she was being perfectly honest with herself. But he hadn’t been there, and it felt like too awkward of a conversation to have at his home, so she’d gone home, deciding to deal with it all in the morning. Aleinn could handle things for her for an hour or two while she came face to face with Hakon and her feelings for him, finally.

However, her fitful sleep was interrupted when she heard a tap tap tap on the window near her head. At first she’d thought she was imagining it, but now that she was awake and more alert, she heard it again and climbed out of bed quietly to investigate, not wanting to wake anyone else up.

When she spotted Hakon standing outside, Freyja was both confused and concerned. What the hell was he doing? It had to be really late or really early in the morning, as it was still dark outside. She got dressed quickly and hurried downstairs and out of the house. She didn’t know what was going on, but something had to be wrong, right? Otherwise he’d just speak to her during daylight hours like a normal person.

As she drew closer, Freyja couldn’t help the shock she knew would be clear on her face. He was crying. And she was fairly certain he was drunk. “Hakon? What happened?” she wanted to know when they were finally face to face. All she wanted to do was pull him into her arms and try to comfort him but she wasn’t sure how welcome that would be. And she’d like to know what was going on so she didn’t react inappropriately.

He was swaying where he stood and she thought it might be a good idea to get him to sit down before he fell over and hurt himself. She reached out, trying to take his hand. Maybe he’d have an easier time standing up with something to hold onto, she reasoned. But she still didn’t know what to do with him. They shouldn’t go inside, if he was drunk, but they could still sit down and lean up against her house? Though, it might be hard to get him back up again. She changed her mind, deciding his house might be better. “What if we go to your house and talk?” she asked finally, trying to slowly turn them both in the direction of his house. At least if he passed out and fell over there, she’d managed to get him home.

Somewhere in the back of his drunken mind, Hakon knows he’s being stupid. The problem, though, is that his heart is still threatening to claw its way out of his chest, leaving him even more of a mess than he already is, and his grief is so powerful his entire chest hurts. Something in him squeezes painfully when he sees Freyja walking toward him like something right out of a dream, her blond hair tousled from sleep, and all he wants is to run his fingers through it and smooth out the tangles. He can see shock on her face and he knows he must look like shit. He can still feel the tears on his cheeks and he hates them. He wipes his hand angrily across his face. He’s swaying in a way that’s almost alarming, because his chest is still doing that painful squeezing thing that he thinks means he might actually be dying, and when she asks him what happened he’s still trying to gather his thoughts because she’s so pretty she takes his breath away and his chest already hurts and he doesn’t understand why everything hurts so much.

She suggests they go to his house and he feels her hand grasp his, and he immediately twines his fingers with hers. The small touch is enough to help stop the worst of the swaying, since his drunk body automatically moves closer to hers to stabilize itself. He starts following her toward street, his steps lurching and unsteady, and he feels the words tumbling out of him in a drunken rush.

“I buried him under the tree in my yard and he was my best friend and he was always there and when I found him he was just like me because his mother was dead too, and,” he pauses to draw in a shuddering breath, feeling more tears on his cheeks and he angrily brushes his fist over his face again. He knows he probably isn’t making sense but he’s too drunk to regulate his words. “And I knew he was going to die someday because he was so old, I’ve had him for almost fifteen years but I didn’t think it would ever actually happen and now he’s buried under the tree and it’s going to be so different without Fenrir.” He’s slurring his words pretty badly, although they sound perfectly coherent and his story makes sense to him.

His chest is still doing that thing where it aches like everything in him is breaking, but he’s doing pretty good at staying on his feet and he knows it’s because Freyja is holding his hand, and he knows soon they’ll be at his house and he couldn’t stop the next set of words even if he tried. The first set made him feel a little better, and so maybe this next set will help even more. “Thank you for helping me.” He looks over at her, intending to smile at her because that’s what you do when you’re thanking someone, and she’s so beautiful it sets his heart to slamming around breaking things again, and something in that breaking forces his next words out before he can stop them. “I love you. I’ve been in love with you for,” he pauses to think about it and finally gives up with a shrug. “Years. Long enough that I can’t remember anymore what it’s like to not love you.”

He falls silent immediately after his confession, and for the first time since he found Fenrir, it doesn’t hurt to breathe. Hakon can see his house coming up just down the street and knows that soon Freyja is going to leave him and go back home, and while the thought hurts, it’s nothing compared to the agony he felt just prior to going to her house in the first place. This is just how he normally feels anyway when he knows that soon him or Freyja will have to leave. He can handle this, but still he’s drunk and he feels everything so much more harshly now. He’s dismayed for a moment. Wasn’t alcohol supposed to make you feel things less? He strokes his thumb along Freyja’s hand, like he’d done when they held hands in that stupid closet.

It was so hard for her to watch as he wiped the tears off his cheeks, and not know what she could do to help. Luckily he didn’t resist when she’d reached for his hand, and she moved closer, trying to offer whatever support she could. He didn’t seem to care about where they were headed, thankfully, and she was able to maneuver them in the direction of his house. When he finally gave her some information, it took her a moment before she realized he was talking about Fenrir, and she felt her eyes begin to sting, understanding finally dawning. His dog had died.

Squeezing the hand she was holding, Freyja rested her head against his shoulder, bringing her other hand up to wrap around his arm. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, trying her best not to start crying. They couldn’t both be a crying mess right now, and clearly it was his turn, so she needed to keep it together. He’d made a comment about his mother, and while Freyja knew he was an orphan, she hadn’t exactly realized how much it still clearly affected him. Which was ridiculous, and selfish of her not to have taken into consideration. Her father’s death would never not affect her, why would his parents be any different?

This was certainly not how she imagined her first conversation with him after he returned from Kattegat was going to go. She hadn’t exactly had the highest of hopes for that conversation, but now what was she going to do? She couldn’t just unleash her most likely unreciprocated feelings on him after this. Their friendship was too important to her to risk it when he clearly needed someone to talk to right now. He thanked her for helping him and she shook her head at him. “I’ll always help you.” She was running her hand up and down his forearm slowly, absently, as they continued the slow trek to his house.

His next words were completely unexpected and her hand froze where it was. Freyja straightened up immediately, looking at his face. She was confident he was far too drunk and distressed to be fucking with her right now, but she’d been entirely unprepared for him to say anything like that and wasn’t sure how to respond for a moment. The knot she’d had in her stomach from the moment she’d finally acknowledged her feelings for him had disappeared almost immediately but she still wasn’t sure how to react. He was in no state to be having a legitimate conversation about their feelings, even if they seemed to have the same ones.

But for right now, she couldn’t just not say anything after that declaration. “Well, I… I love you too, but we should really talk about that tomorrow,” she told him, admitting how she felt about him out loud for the first time as she squeezed his hand again. It sounded awkward to her own ears, but frankly it was a fairly awkward situation. Of all the ways she’d imagined this conversation going, this scenario had not once crossed her mind. Would he even remember any of this tomorrow? He was incredibly drunk. She didn’t think giving him the rundown of her own feelings was quite necessary, given the circumstances. They clearly needed to have a very serious conversation tomorrow, when he was sober.

They reached his house shortly after, and Freyja pushed the door open wide, letting him step inside first. She looked around quickly, locating the chairs near his table and considered trying to plop him down there for a moment. But he was getting heavy, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he was just drunk or if he was getting tired, and thought his bed might be a better plan. “We’re almost there, you think you’ll make it?”

Freyja’s hair is soft as she rests her head against his shoulder, and he closes his eyes for a moment to revel in the feel of her hair against his skin. He shouldn’t be enjoying her small, comforting touches but he is. She makes him feel steadier, but then again maybe that’s only because he’s very drunk and it’s easier to balance when she’s leaning against him like that. Her hand is rubbing up and down his arm, slow and comforting, and for some reason that just makes everything in his chest feel that much worse. He can feel tears on his cheeks again but he’s given up trying to stop them for now, what’s the point if he’s probably just going to keep crying?

He’s still thinking of Fenrir and how he’d found him in an alley huddled near the body of his mother, and Freyja’s whisper does very little to ease that pain, but it does help a bit. When he thanks her, she tells him that she’ll always help him, and the next words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. How long has he kept these feelings locked up inside him? He can’t even remember. It happened so slowly, so gradually, that it seems almost like he’s loved her his whole life, which he knows is impossible, but that’s just how it seems to him. Like loving her has always been a part of who he is; he’s Hakon the blacksmith and he can’t remember his parents and he cherishes his friends and he is in love with Freyja. Those are the solid, grounding facts that make him the person he is. He can remember his life before he had all these things to ground him, of course, but it’s all so far away and all these facts are so close now.

He feels the slow stroking of her hand stop when he tells her he loves her, and he’s already looking at her so he sees her straighten, and besides he can feel the slight tightening in her body because he’s half leaning on her anyway. He opens his mouth again, to apologize, to tell her to just leave him here, he can make it home. Everything in him is a roar, he can feel the blood in his veins and feel his heart screaming, so close to clawing its way out of his chest, and he knows that after a lifetime of enduring, he’s about to endure some of the worst pain yet, and oddly enough in this moment of silence between the two of them, his mind goes to Sofie. If she’d never meddled, he never would have realized he was in love with Freyja, he would still be living in blissful ignorance of his own feelings. And while he would still be drunk and sad, at least when he woke up in the morning, he would still be able to go to the shipyard and talk to Freyja, and that would make him feel better.

Now he’s about to lose her forever, and just as he’s about to tell her to leave, she tells him she loves him, too. His eyes are wide with disbelief, but he knows her and he can tell from her face that she’s being honest, and his relief is so strong he sags into her a little more. He presses a kiss into her tousled blond hair with a noise that’s somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. “Oh thank the gods, I thought I’d just lost you forever. But fine, we can talk about it tomorrow if you want.” He wants to protest, but he knows somewhere in the back of his mind that she’s right and they should wait. He wants to be sober for this talk.

They’ve reached his house by now and he stumbles through the door, and he’s surprised when she walks past the chairs and toward the small room that contains his bed. “Of course I can make it, this isn’t my first time being drunk.” He pauses, tilting his head questioningly as he looks down at her. “But where are we going? There’s chairs there.” He waves his hand vaguely in the direction of the chairs. He turns his head quickly when they walk past the hearth, looking anywhere but at the old sheepskin Fenrir used to sleep on.

Her night had already taken a number of unexpected turns, but the most unexpected had to be when the drunk, crying, angry, hurting man she was helping get home told her he was in love with her. That changed everything for her. For the better, obviously, because having to tell him about her feelings for him had been stressing her out quite a bit from almost the moment he’d left for Kattegat. She’d been worried about risking their friendship but she wasn’t the sort of person who could just ignore that kind of thing. Freyja was too honest and impatient to not discuss it immediately. Unfortunately, ‘immediately’ had been postponed because he’d gone on holiday.

But now that was all solved, more or less. Freyja was a bit worried that in the morning, when he was sober and thinking clearly, she’d discover it had only been the death of his dog making him emotional and in his drunken state, had phrased things poorly and it was all a misunderstanding. But that didn’t seem very likely so she was trying not to think about it. She’d deal with that if and when she came to it. For now, she just needed to get him home.

She felt him lean against her a bit more, and felt the kiss he pressed against her hair, and couldn’t help the smile that settled on her lips. When he sounded so relieved at her admission, Freyja looked up at him, her face filled with confusion and concern. “You wouldn’t have lost me anyway,” she told him, squeezing his hand again. “I told you you were stuck with me and I meant it. This is just… better now. And yes, I think this conversation is going to require you to get a good night’s sleep after… all this.” She would love to sit down with him right then and there and just lay everything out that was going on between them, because that’s the sort of person she was. She wanted things done and sorted immediately. But he wasn’t really in any shape to be having a conversation like that.

Laughing at his reply to her question about making it to his room, Freyja made sure to kick the door closed behind her. “But this is the first time you’ve come to me for help getting home? I think I’m hurt.” She winked at him quickly when he looked down at her and mentioned the chairs in the larger room, but she countered by pointing towards his bedroom. “We’re having that conversation tomorrow, remember? You should try to get some sleep.” She wasn’t too sure what to do now, though. She couldn’t leave him alone in this sort of state, right? That could be dangerous. Which meant she’d need to sleep in one of those chairs out there, which she wasn’t exactly looking forward to. But she would, because she was a decent person. “I’ll stay and sleep out here, I guess?” She told him, mimicking his motion in the direction of the pair of chairs.

Hakon chuckles when she tells him he’s stuck with her, and he wants to wrap an arm around her shoulder but he’s drunk and unbalanced and he’s probably leaning on her a bit too much anyway. But still, he doesn’t move away from her because he enjoys being this close to her, and he knows she’s strong enough to bear some of his weight anyway. Her hair smells sweet, like herbs, and he closes his eyes after he kisses her, inhaling the scent and knowing it’ll be fixed in his memory forever. He’s drunk enough that he might forget how he got home, but he’ll never forget the smell of Freyja’s hair. “Better now, is it? Because now you get to call me your man?” He’s teasing her a bit, his tone warm, and he presses another soft kiss to her hair.

He’s relieved when they reach his house, because he wants to go to sleep so he can wake up and have this conversation with her in the morning. He wants to have it now, wants to stay up until the sun rises, just talking to her, but impatient as he is, he knows she’s right. He needs to sleep, he needs to be sober for this. It’s too important of a conversation to be taken lightly. And even though he knows now that for some reason he doesn’t understand, she loves him, he still fears this conversation a little. Hakon has never been very good at things like this, he’s never really had to be good at them. He’s worried he’ll say the wrong thing, or that he’s misunderstanding her. It’s too late to turn back now, though, so he needs to sleep. He needs the sun to rise and his head to clear.

Hakon can’t help but laugh when Freyja does, and his laugh is warm and rich, and he’s still chuckling when he answers her. “I didn’t come to you for help. I came to you because I couldn’t bear to be alone anymore. I love you; I’ve loved you for years, and I just couldn’t keep it inside me any longer.” The laughter fades from his voice, and it drops down near to a whisper as he continues. “I denied it for a long time. Kept telling myself it was only a weakness. But then Fenrir died and I knew I had to tell you, because a chance at spending a life with you was worth more to me than the fear of losing you.” Maybe it’s only the ale helping him finally express his thoughts aloud, but he’s grateful for it anyway. He wants to lean down and press his lips to hers but he doesn’t because he vomited on the way to her house, and she deserves better than the taste of vomit and sour ale. He presses another kiss to her temple instead.

He immediately looks indignant when she says she’ll sleep out in one of the chairs, and he shakes his head but quickly stops because it makes the room spin. “I’ll sleep out there. You sleep in the bed.” His hand moves to the small of her back, and he gently guides her toward the bed. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. You need to be well rested for our talk, too.” He smiles, giving her a quick wink. He begins to sink slowly toward the floor, because he knows once he goes down he isn’t getting back up until he’s sober. He’ll get her to sleep in the bed by being a brat, if he needs to.

While being this close to him wasn’t exactly new, it was all different now, and Freyja found she liked it. A lot. The situation was far from ideal, but now that everything had been said, she was feeling a lot better. When he teased her, she grinned but shook her head. “Don’t make me change my mind,” she threatened, though her laughter effectively gave away the fact that she was joking.

Once they were in his house, Freyja was determined to get him to go to sleep. He started laughing at her but had quite a lot to say and Freyja was honestly a bit surprised. He was still very drunk and this sounded a lot like things they should be talking about tomorrow. But she wasn’t about to stop him. Honestly, it was nice to actually hear the thoughts rolling around in his head. Especially when they were about her. She’d have to reciprocate tomorrow, she imagined, but the thought wasn’t as worrying as it had been a few hours ago.

“Well you’ve got excellent timing. Telling a friend you’re in love with them is not an easy conversation to just work up to, I’ve discovered. I’ve been stressing about it since you went to Kattegat, and was going to come find you tomorrow to talk about it anyway,” she told him, feeling a bit guilty that he’d been dealing with it on his own for clearly some time, while she’d remained ignorant of her own feelings for far longer. “You know, you’re very chatty when you’re drunk. I think I like it.” That probably had something to do with the fact that he’d just told her two more times that he loved her and also that he wanted to spend his life with her. It was hard to wipe the smile off her face after that, but she wasn’t even trying.

Watching him shake his head at her announcement about sleeping in one of the chairs, Freyja was only mildly surprised at his reaction. His hand found its way to the small of her back and he started urging her towards the bed in much the same way she’d been trying to do to him. Turning to face him, Freyja slid her arms around his waist and looked up at him. She shook her head right back at him. “I have already slept for a few hours, I will be perfectly well rested, and I’m not taking the bed while you sleep in a chair while you’re this drunk.”

Looking towards the bed for a minute, she raised an eyebrow when she turned her attention back to him. When she felt him getting heavier because he was starting to deliberately fall down, she sent him an exasperated look and tightened her arms around his waist. Something gave her the feeling he was going to be stubborn about this, and Freyja wasn’t sure if she had the energy to out-stubborn him at the moment. Despite her bold statement about being well rested, she was actually pretty tired. “How about we compromise, and we both sleep in the bed?” It would definitely be more comfortable for the both of them. And while she wasn’t certain she felt like admitting it out loud just yet, she liked being this close to him and didn’t want it to stop just yet. “I’m looking forward to this talk, so the sooner we sleep, the sooner we can have it.”

He shoots her a mildly offended look, momentarily tightening his arm around her shoulder as she threatens to change her mind, but she’s laughing and he’s chuckling because for the first time in his life, Hakon is secure in a relationship that isn’t simply friendship. Granted, Freyja is his friend, one of his closest, and he thinks that if that easy, comfortable friendship is the basis for their relationship, they’ll be together for the rest of their lives. Maybe it’s optimism and maybe it’s just the ale, but Hakon feels safe.

He grins over at her after he finishes speaking, but the expression quickly fades and he becomes a bit solemn. “It’s easier when you’re piss-drunk, I expect, so at least I’ve saved you the trouble of starting the conversation.” He shrugs. “Although it wasn’t exactly my intention, to tell you like that. Or ever, probably, but never like that. You deserve better than this.” He wants to apologize, to tell her what she deserves, but words are finally failing him and he’s starting to drift off into more melancholy thoughts again, but her next sentence is enough to have him smiling slightly again. “I’m always chatty around you, drunk or no. When you first started coming to my shop I told myself I would have to actually talk to you, if I wanted you to keep coming by, and I did. Part of that was because I needed the business because I was just starting up the shop, but most of it was because I liked you immediately.”

He’s looking at her with something like wonder in his eyes, and he reaches one hand up to gently cup her face. His voice drops to a husky murmur as he continues. “There was something unbreakable in you that day. Tired and sad you were, set my heart to hammering right away because there was such fire in your eyes.” A slow, warm smile spreads over his face, and he’s suddenly aware he’s been cupping her cheek for a while now. He lets his hand fall, shrugging, aware he’s the most open right now that he’s ever been in his life, and feeling unexpectedly safe with that knowledge. “I just knew I wanted you in my life, though I didn’t know how much I would come to love you.”

He isn’t surprised when she refuses his suggestion of him sleeping in the chairs, although he is a bit shocked when she wrapped her arms lightly around his waist. He was quite sure he could stand like this forever, pressed this close to her, but then he shoots her a wicked smirk as he begins sinking to the ground, and he laughs at her exasperated expression as she tightens her grip on him. He stops his slow sinking at her suggestion, and finds that he agrees with her logic. He gives her a very serious expression, nodding, as he answers. “Compromise. I like it. But more than that, I like being this close to you.”

He can’t keep the mischievous grin from his face as he wraps his arms around her waist and topples them both into the bed. Even in his drunken state, she’s light enough that he can twist her as they fall, so they land beside each other instead of one on top of the other. He gives her a lazy, satisfied grin. “I’m looking forward to this talk, too. Although I think I’ve already done a good job of telling you how I feel. I turn into a skald when I’m drunk, apparently.” He rolls his eyes at his own loose tongue, but he can’t be angry about it, because look where it brought him.

She couldn’t help but grin at the look he sends her, shaking her head and rolling her eyes a bit when his arm tightened around her quickly. But honestly, she loved it. She enjoyed being close to him like this, despite the original circumstances that had thrown them together for the evening. Now that the words had been said, it was like everything was finally right. The way it probably should have been a long time ago.

When his grin faded, Freyja raised an eyebrow. His words made her smile but his expression was still fairly serious, so she was confused. But when he continued, she shook her head at his words. “I’m glad you told me, no matter how it came out. Besides, if I’d figured it all out sooner, we wouldn’t have been in this situation to begin with.” Because if she’d figured it out sooner, they’d have had this conversation ages ago. Freyja smiled when he said he was always chatty around her, but sent him a skeptical look. “Not the right sort of chatty, clearly,” she replied quickly, but hushed when he continued. Though she wondered for a moment if she’d have ruined everything if he’d admitted his feelings for her before she’d realized she felt the same way? Luckily, that was no longer something she needed to worry about but she didn’t want him to feel bad about any of this.

But as he admitted he’d liked her almost immediately, Freyja had to take a moment to think back on what she’d been like at the time. Five years ago, the first time she’d walked into his shop, she’d been far from cheerful. She had a hard time believing anyone would want to spend more than ten minutes with her at that point in her life, and the way he was telling it, she was tempted to ask if they were thinking of the same day. Or the same girl. But what he was saying and the way he was saying it, his voice low and his hand cupping her face, Freyja felt the heat rising in her cheeks. She almost never blushed, but hearing the way he’d thought and felt about her, even back then, it wasn’t something she’d been expecting.

While she was certain nothing he was saying was meant to make her feel badly, she still did. “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure all of this out. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done without you all these years.” Outside of her family, he was definitely the person she was closest to. She’d let most of her older friendships go after her father had died and she moved away from fighting, and it was in that time that their friendship had developed. Trying to picture her life over the last five years without him in it was all but impossible for her. “And I love you too,” she told him again. He’d said it like, four times? To her one? And the first time she’d said it had been unbelievably awkward, so she wanted to make sure he was receiving her loud and clear.

Unable to resist grinning at his immature behavior, she nodded right back at him when he agreed to her compromise idea, but scoffed when he came right out and said he liked being so close to her. “You’re just so much better at this than I am,” she told him, squinting a bit in faux irritation. “I like it too,” she admitted anyway, despite the display of irritation, and narrowed her eyes at his mischievous grin, just before he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her down onto the bed with him.

Lying this close, and face to face on the bed, Freyja returned his grin but rolled her eyes at his words. “Yes, you’re doing brilliantly. Better than me, I’ve already said. I’m just worried you’re not going to remember any of this in the morning. If you scream like a girl when you wake up and see me here, I will take it very personally.” She smiled at him but she was warm, and comfortable, and tired, and snuggled a bit closer as her eyes closed. “Now go to sleep.”

The next morning when Freyja woke, it was still pretty early, but she was an early riser, so this was nothing new for her. She knew Hakon was normally a fairly early riser as well, but after how drunk he’d been last night, she was not surprised that he seemed to be sound asleep still. Carefully, she managed to slip out of the bed without too much trouble and quietly left the house. She hurried home to get changed and check in on her sisters, and couldn’t quite wipe the smile off her face, but if anyone noticed, they didn’t comment.

Shortly after, she made her way back to Hakon’s house, but evidently he’d woken up while she was gone, so she sat down, drumming her fingernails along the table and waited for him to come back. Hopefully, very soon it would be time for that conversation.

Hakon is cozy and warm, and Freyja’s hair smells sweet beside him, and it’s easy to drift off to sleep when he feels so safe. His bed is empty when he wakes up, and although that doesn’t strike him as strange, what he does think is odd is the sweet smell of herbs lingering in his bed. He knows that at some point he’s going to need to reconstruct what happened last night. He can remember bits and pieces of it, but the room is spinning and his head is pounding and that can wait until after he’s had something to eat.

He’s just a little unsteady as he makes his way to the table, confused by the near-crushing sense of loss he feels at waking up alone. He wakes up alone every morning, so this is nothing new. What is new is the despair he felt at the emptiness of his bed. He’ll try to figure that out later. He tears a loaf of bread in half and chews it slowly, taking sips of water every few bites. He’s not as young as he used to be, and it’s been a long time since he drank quite that much.

His meager breakfast finished, Hakon steps out the back door and into the yard for his almost-foolproof hangover cure. He pulls his shirt off and bends over to dunk his head and shoulders into the barrel of cold rainwater. He shakes his head like a wet dog, opens the door and steps through it while mopping his face with his shirt. As he drags the shirt down his face, he freezes, still framed in the doorway.

Freyja is sitting, drumming her fingernails on his table, and she looks so beautiful with the sun gleaming on her golden hair that for a moment he forgets everything else. It only takes a few seconds, though, for him to tilt his head quizzically at her, but he’s quick to shoot her his usual crooked half-smile as he enters the house. He’s a little confused about what she’s doing here so early, but he trusts that Freyja knows he’ll always be there for her. “Morning, Freyja.”

Hakon is acutely aware of the fact that he’s half-naked and dripping wet, and although other women have seen him naked and crooned over the flat plane of his stomach and his bulging arms, he’s never felt more exposed. The night is coming back to him in flashes now--he remembers Freyja helping him home, he remembers the sound of her voice and the smell of her hair and the feel of her body next to his in bed, and it’s like the bottom simply drops out of his entire world. What has he done? “I… I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing he can think to say, and suddenly that beast of sorrow from last night is threatening to claw its way out of his chest again. He steps toward her, pushing the other half of the loaf of bread toward her across the table in a silent offer, and slips his shirt over his head. It clings to his damp skin, and he can barely even look at her as he begins yanking his fingers through his wet hair.

Freyja wasn’t kept waiting long and when the door opened and Hakon stood there, dripping wet and shirtless, it captured her attention long enough to miss the shocked and confused look on his face for a moment. He’d wrapped his arms around her recently enough for her to know she quite liked everything about them, but this was a little different, wasn’t it? She wanted to just walk over and run her hands up and down his arms but she knew that would not be very helpful if they were supposed to be having a very serious conversation right now.

When he greeted her, she raised her eyes to his and finally got a good look at the expression on his face and sucked in a breath. She wasn’t entirely certain, but Freyja got the feeling he didn’t recall much of what had happened last night. For a moment she felt that knot in the pit of her stomach return as her mind filled with worry. What if she’d been right last night, and everything he’d said had just come out wrong because he’d been so drunk and upset?

She wasn’t at all sure what to do about this new development until he apologized and she knew she was right. He must have forgotten, because otherwise he’d have nothing to be apologizing for. But then he was nudging some bread towards her, pulling his shirt back on and barely even looking in her direction and she narrowed her eyes, picked up the rest of the loaf of bread and chucked it at his head before really thinking about what she was doing. “What are you apologizing for? What do you think happened last night?”

Without actually giving him a chance to reply, Freyja was on her feet and took a step towards him and waved her hand at him quickly to hush him. “Nevermind, I’ll tell you what happened,” she announced quickly, knowing her tone certainly implied she was angry about something, but also knowing that if he tried to take back any of what he’d said last night before she got a chance to tell him how she felt, she’d probably just leave, which wouldn’t be productive in any way. She knew he’d been telling her the truth last night, but he’d also come right out and said he’d never intended to tell her in the first place, and she wasn’t about to let them go backwards right now.

“You were sad, and got extremely drunk, and came to my house and woke me up in the middle of the night, and told me you were in love with me.” Sure, that wasn’t exactly how it had gone down, but it was the basic idea, and he was getting the abridged version. “And then I told you that I was in love with you, and then we went to sleep because you were drunk and I was tired and I was worried you wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning.” She put her hands on her hips at that last bit because she was feeling rather smug about being right, despite the earlier irritation that he’d done exactly that. Her worry hadn’t quite faded yet, but her expression softened as her bluster wore off. She hated this feeling of insecurity and wanted it to stop immediately. “So now, I need you to tell me that you meant it.” Because she honestly didn’t know what she’d do if he hadn’t. Other than the obvious, head down to the shipyard and hit things til she felt better.

He’s ruined everything, he just knows it, and in that moment of pushing the bread toward her, Hakon hates himself more than he ever has. He isn’t sure what she’s here for, because he isn’t exactly sure what happened last night. As he sees it, there’s one of two options. Either she’s here to tell him she doesn’t feel the same way about him, and they can’t be friends anymore because now it’s too awkward and she feels uncomfortable around him. Or she’s about to tell him that last night was a mistake, that they never should have slept together. Either way, Hakon is certain his world is about to come crashing down around him. He blinks in surprise as the bread bounces off his head, and he gives her a wounded look.

He opens his mouth to answer her, but snaps it shut immediately as she waves her hand, standing up and stepping toward him. He hates the anger in her voice because he knows it’s directed at him, and what’s worse is that he’s certain he deserves it. He’s ruined their friendship, he’s ruined everything, and she has every right to be furious at him. He’s lucky she threw a loaf of bread at his head and not a knife. When she continues, he can’t help but avert his eyes from her as she tells him how much of a drunken fool he was last night. He’s been dealing with those feelings for years now, perfectly content to simply live with it, and then Sofie calls him out and his dog dies and he gets drunk and ruins everything. He can remember parts of the night, remembers standing outside her house and crying on her shoulder. Shame is so strong it threatens to overwhelm him, but Hakon sighs and finally glues his eyes to her.

He’s about to tell her he meant it, every word of it, because she already knows and so what’s the harm in denying it? It might ruin everything, but it’s already ruined and so there’s nothing to lose. His eyes, one blue and one hazel, widen in shock as she continues. This part, he doesn’t remember. He cant help the small chuckle that escapes his lips as she places her hands on her hips, and he knows it’s a bit of smugness because she was right, he’s a fool and he’s forgotten the most important part of the night. He closes the small distance between them, placing his hands gently on her shoulders and slowly rubbing them down her arms.

“I meant it, Freyja, every word. I’ve been in love with you so long, I can’t remember what it feels like to not be in love with you.” He gives her a small, sheepish smile, because he isn’t very good with explaining his feelings most of the time. He’s still rubbing his hands slowly up and down her arms, reassuring. He’s so relieved he could laugh, but he knows this is one of the rare times when they’re serious, so he doesn’t. Hakon leans down, tilting his head slightly sideways, and presses a soft kiss to the corner of her lips. He wants to kiss her so badly it hurts, so badly his chest is doing that funny squeezing thing it was doing last night, but he doesn’t want to kiss her right on the lips because he’s worried that somehow, he’s misinterpreting all of this.

Everything that had taken place since last night was completely new for Freyja, and while watching his expression change somewhere between throwing something at his head and aggressively reminding him that she had feelings for him, she realized she wasn’t very good at properly expressing herself. While she’d always considered herself to be an honest person, and had in fact been told on multiple occasions that she needed to learn to keep her mouth shut, it seemed she was pretty good at just bottling her feelings up and pretending they didn’t exist in the first place. That was clearly what she’d done when it came to Hakon and how she really felt about him. But once she got all of that off her chest and out in the open, for the second time, she was feeling much better, and felt a bit bad for how she’d gone about it. He was clearly not having the best morning and her yelling at him probably hadn’t helped.

When he closed the space between them and started running his hands up and down her arms, she relaxed immediately, and couldn’t help but roll her eyes a bit at his words. He’d already told her that, but clearly he didn’t remember that either. “You may have mentioned that part last night,” she told him, smirking a bit as she ran her hands down his chest quickly, thoroughly enjoying being this close to him again. Even if his shirt was still damp.

He pressed a light kiss to the side of her lips and she knew that wasn’t going to be enough. She enjoyed the quick, soft kisses thing he’d been doing last night when he was drunk and smelled of ale and she’d rightly been worried he wouldn’t recall any of it in the morning but now it was different. He wasn’t drunk and he wouldn’t forget and she didn’t want soft kisses anymore.

“We were supposed to have a very serious conversation this morning. About our feelings,” she whispered, right before she tilted her head towards his for a real kiss. Their feelings could wait. Her hands traveled quickly back up his chest, and circled his neck, pulling him closer. The insecurity she’d felt just moments ago had evaporated as soon as he told her he’d meant what he said. He was in love with her, and he knew she was in love with him, and they could finally have a discussion about that and what it meant. But like, in a minute. Because his lips were warm and Freyja didn’t want to stop kissing him yet.

After a few moments she pulled back, and looked into his eyes as she realized something. While she remembered everything that had been said last night, he didn’t. Which meant the only time she’d told him about her feelings, that he could recall, was when she’d been yelling and glaring at him a moment ago. She could probably do better than that. “I love you,” she told him softly, wanting to repeat everything else she’d told him last night, especially the part where she apologized for being so dense these last few years, but she knew they’d likely circle back around to that at some point. For right now, she’d rather focus on the whole kissing thing for a bit longer.

Hakon is in uncharted territory. He's always been alone, except for a few friends and his dog. As far as women go, Hakon's experience is more in one night stands. He tends to shy away from emotional attachment, because it's simply not something he has a lot of experience in. When you grow up as an orphan, you tend to believe that love is dangerous. Love opens you up to being hurt, and humans are simply creatures who do their best to avoid pain. Hakon avoids romantic relationships the way some people avoid getting into fights, it's simply a means of self-protection. He's content to observe the world from behind his protective walls, content to let his few friends in occasionally. He's happy with his forge and his business, but life is one long learning experience, and Hakon is slowly learning that he's been wrong the whole time. Yes, love can open you up to heartache. But it can heal you, too.

He realizes this as he feels Freyja's skin slide beneath his callused hands, as she looks up at him and rolls his eyes because he can't remember what he did and didn't tell her when he was drunk. Every fear he's had about opening himself up is gone, because he trusts that he's safe with Freyja. He grins down at her as she speaks, then composes his face into a very serious expression. "I hope you can forgive me for the horrific crime of repeating myself." He feels her hands run over his chest, and his serious expression relaxes into one that's calm and warm. He can't resist leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of her lips, still nervous that somehow he's wrong about all this. He wants to kiss her lips fully, but he loses his courage. This is all new for him, although far less terrifying than he thought it would be. He doesn't move his head back from hers, simply breathing in the smell of her skin. His hands are still moving slowly up and down her arms.

He smiles down at her as she whispers, and he's about to say they can have that conversation right now, but all thoughts but Freyja are wiped from his mind as she presses her lips to his. His eyes close, his hands drifting from her arms to her back and settling around the curve of her waist. He feels her hands skimming up his chest and then around his neck, pulling him closer, and he tightens his grip around her waist. He keeps the kiss gentle though, soft and exploring, although there's part of him that's screaming to kiss her harder, to pour all the years of his pent-up feelings into it. But there will be time for that later. Now is a time for talking things through. Still, he's reluctant when she pulls back after a few moments, and he can't resist brushing his nose lightly along hers. He just wants to be close to her. Her voice is soft as she tells him she loves him, and one of his hands travels up to the base of her neck. His finger tangle gently in her hair as he leans his face closer to hers.

"I love you, too." He dips back in for another kiss, his hand at the base of her neck gently holding her in place. He's less gentle this time, less shy and more eager. He wants to pick her up and carry her to his bed, to sit down with her on his lap, and spend the whole day just kissing her and whispering that he loves her. This time he's the one to pull back after a few moments, although he presses a few quick kisses to her cheeks, her chin, and the tip of her nose before he pulls back fully and finally gives them a little space to think. "Just so I'm up to speed, what else did I tell you last night?" His hands are wandering leisurely over her back and sides, up the curve of her hips to her ribs, and back down again. He thinks he could spend his whole life standing this close to her.

She wasn’t sure how she’d already managed to experience so many different emotions so early in the morning, but now that everything had been settled, and they were both operating with roughly the same information, Freyja felt she could finally relax. Maybe he had very little recollection of what had been said, but everything was fine now, and she could probably fill him in on the more important details.

When Hakon’s face grew rather serious, she wondered if they’d be starting their conversation but his words had her laughing instead. “I will try my best to tolerate it,” she answered with a nod, but her attempt to keep a straight face was wildly unsuccessful. He was perfectly welcome to repeat anything he’d said to her last night, as often as he liked and she wouldn’t mind a bit.

Previously, Freyja had never been a big fan of having people in her personal space for any length of time, really. There were the occasional exceptions, like hugs from her parents or sisters, but even those were few and far between. But just like when they’d been locked in that stupid closet, that familiar need to put distance between her and everyone else had yet to appear. She knew why, of course; She’d never been in love with anyone else.

Feeling his arm tighten around her waist was just about all the encouragement she needed, and Freyja would’ve been happy to keep kissing him all day. Hakon seemed to agree, because even when she broke the kiss, there seemed to be virtually no space between them. And she barely had time to grin at him when he said he loved her too before his hand was in her hair, and his lips were on hers again. Maybe they would spend the day just like this? He’d get no argument from her.

But he pulled away next, and she couldn’t be too upset because he followed it with a flurry of kisses all over her face before backing up and putting a bit of space between them. She thought that was probably smart, because even though she’d rolled her eyes a bit when he pressed a kiss to her nose, she was more than a little tempted to pull him back for another kiss.

Letting out a laugh at his next statement, Freyja sent him a mischievous grin. “You were very chatty, this should be fun,” she told him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Let’s see, there was the part you just repeated, and there was that bit about wanting to spend your life with me, and umm…” she bit her lip and looked up at the ceiling as if she was deep in thought, intending to tease him for a bit longer. She could’ve gone on for a while because she remembered everything he’d said, but it was actually a weird feeling for Freyja, to be talking about herself like that, even if he had asked. “I suppose that was the basic idea. You just used far more words.” Which was also true of their conversation the night before. He had definitely been far more outspoken than she’d been, but she didn’t feel as guilty about it now as she had then, since he’d forgotten the whole thing anyway.

“Do you think that about covers it? Or should we have that serious discussion now?” She couldn’t really think about too much else they’d need to work through, but he could have questions he wanted to ask her, with his minimal recollection of what had happened the night before.

He grins down at her as she laughs, pleased he'd been able to make her laugh. Their conversations are always easy and teasing, and he's happy that nothing seems to have changed except now he gets to run his fingers through her hair and kiss her and tell her how he feels about her. As far as Hakon is concerned, those are all wonderful changes. He brushes a stray strand of hair gently behind her ear as she fails at keeping a straight face and says she'll try to put up with him. "Your patience is appreciated. You're just too kind." He settles his arms more snugly around her waist, and again he debates picking her up and sitting with her in his lap. The only problem then was that they wouldn't be able to be pressed quite this close together, and he doesn't mind standing as long as she's comfortable.

He knows they're supposed to be having a serious conversation, but kissing seems to be getting in the way of that. Not that he minds, because her lips are soft and warm and he's been wondering for a while now what it would be like to kiss her, to be pressed against her like this. But he pulls back to allow them to have that talk if they want it, and his face becomes a little more serious as he listens to Freya sum up their conversation last night. He nods to show her he understands, and can't help but crack a smile when she says he just used a lot more words. He loves the feel of her arms around his waist, and his hand wanders up to gently rub between her shoulder blades. He enjoys letting his hands slowly explore her, tracing long paths along her back and sides, up her shoulders and down her arms. He tilts his head thoughtfully when she asks if they should have that discussion now.

Really, he only has one question, and it's so important that his hands become still on her, one resting at the small of her back and one just above her elbow. His eyes are very serious as they fix on her blue ones, and Hakon is shocked to realize that he's nervous. His grip tightens a little on her elbow, reassuring himself that she's here in front of him, that he's spent the past ten minutes or so kissing her and talking about their feelings. "What next?" Almost afraid of her answer, he's quick to smile at her and continue. "We should probably leave Skagen before Sofie finds out she was right."

Freyja had exactly no experience when it came to actual relationships, but discovered it wasn’t something she was especially worried about. From the way things had gone last night and so far today, she didn’t think they had anything to stress about. Once they’d gotten past the initial reveal, twice now, Freyja felt more comfortable than ever. It definitely helped that she was thoroughly enjoying being pressed against Hakon like this, his hands roaming leisurely. She didn’t want it to stop. The rational part of her mind told her they both needed to get to work at some point today, but she had no intention of ruining the moment.

His hands stilled though, which she noticed immediately, but she wasn’t kept wondering about the reason long. His question made her smile even though she didn’t really have a solid answer for him. But before she could say anything he brought up Sofie and Freyja immediately nodded at him. “You’re right, she’ll be awful. We might have to move. For now let’s just not tell her?” she answered with a grin, before turning back to his first question.

“And what’s next is… whatever we want?” She shrugged a little, without removing her hands from his waist. “Just definitely together, whatever it is. You’re really stuck with me now,” she told him with a nod. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.” She meant that in a number of ways. First, because she was a rather stubborn and bossy person. Second, she came with a pretty large extended family attached. But it wasn’t like these were things he didn’t already know about her, so she figured they wouldn't really change his opinion on the situation.

Subject: Re: i met you in the dark, you lit me up [Freyja]

» exploring in the dark-Styrr
» The brightness in the dark [Sithric]
» alone in the dark-Ivar Ragnarsson
» A Dark Truth [jcink prem]
» Freyja Stafnsdóttir