Drukkari fanfics/oneshots?

qodarkness

The author is qodarkness and they are a really good author. They has more fics not just about drukkari but like Eternals. 

https://archiveofourown.org/users/qodarkness/pseuds/qodarkness

Words:1897
                  

He is the first to walk away from them.

After the battle and Ajak and more anger than Makkari has ever seen in Druig (and it is cold anger, brittle anger, anger with an edge that cuts both ways and, in the end, cuts the bonds between Druig and the other Eternals), he walks away from all of them, obedient armies following him away from their own pointless deaths.

She thinks to let him go. She does let him go. For a while.

Then she runs fleet-footed through the forest. He has taken two armies with him. It isn't hard to find him.

"Makkari," he says when she stops in front of him. His eyes are glowing with his power, keeping two armies, who were killing each other only a short time before, quiet and peaceful.

Druig, she signs and stops.

He isn't the Druig she knows. She has always been able to feel them, the other Eternals, the pattern of the vibrations they make in the air.

She knows Druig's pattern better than anyone else's. His pattern has always felt dark, not cold or grim, but a rich velvety darkness, like the xocolatl drink the Aztecs had enjoyed so much, sharing with the Eternals before the conquistadors had come. Druig's velvet/warm/darkness had always been shot through with bright threads that Makkari liked to think matched her own bright patterns.

But there are no bright threads now. No warmth, no velvet richness. His vibrations are dark and cold and tight, as if he had turned himself entirely inwards, and he is so angry.

Druig, she signs again. I could...

"I can't," he says, cutting off her signing brutally, so she doesn't know what she could. Help him? Go with him? Talk to Ajak? Persuade him to let the armies go back to killing each other and everyone around them, senselessly?

"I am done," he says and walks past her and then stops. She holds her breath waiting and finally he turns to face her, as he must to talk to her.

"Do you know what they think, Makkari?" Druig says and signs, and his words are still brutal, but it isn't aimed at her. Just the world, the whole world and Ajak and Arishem and the stupid, senseless things Druig had wanted to fix for so long and hadn't been allowed. "They don't want to die. That's what they always think. Oh, there are always a few, the ones in charge, who are thinking of glory or plunder or power. But most of them just don't want to die. They want to live. They want to laugh and love and fuck and drink xocolatl and eat cuitzilli and play with their children and go to the marketplace and marry and dream and dance. And when the ones who want glory and plunder and power run through their towns with their swords and their guns, I get to watch all of those minds think of what they want to live for the most and then I get to watch them die. Over and over again. For centuries. Because I'm not allowed to interfere. I'm only allowed that gift. To bear their pain. To be their witness. To watch them die."

Her fingers tremble against her thighs, wanting to reach up as she normally would, to touch his hand, his cheek, to make his bright threads spark as they usually would at her touch. But he is too angry and she knows, she knows, that this time her touch would not be a comfort to him.