Pack [Eddsworld]

CHAPTER TWO

Tord lit a cigar and put it between his scarred lips, taking a puff and exhaling slowly. He was leaning back on the kitchen chair with his feet on the table, one hand behind his head and the other pinching the cigar. It looked like he had settled in again quite nicely, despite the palpable distrust in the air.

Matt had repeatedly whisked Ylva away at any possible chance to show her pictures of himself, so that left Tom and Edd to entertain Tord. Neither of them were very pleased that he had returned after destroying all their earthly, cherished possessions, killing Jon and severely injuring Tom during the fight. The young man in the green hoodie at least attempted to mask his hostility with a smile, while his friend merely glowered from a dark corner, sipping straight from a bottle of Smirnoff.

"So, uh, Tord..." Edd tried to be polite and hold back his coughs, but the cinnamon-scented smoke was just too much for his lungs to handle. "H-how did-d you a-and-d Ylva me-et-t?"

"Ah! Yes, we, uh-- we met while training. Yeah." Tord nervously bit down on the end of his cigar, hoping his tone was sincere enough to fool them.

"Training exercises in the Red Army?" Tom butted in with a rough edge to his voice, eyebrows lowered and eyes narrowed.

"Wha- ah, no! We were, um, training in the... The gym, yes." The scarred man gave a pathetic little chuckle, wisps of pale smoke escaping his parted lips. "I forgot to tell you, didn't I? I left the Red Army. They didn't need me as a leader anymore because they were strong enough on their own."

"Good to know..." Tom returned to lurking silently in the shadows, letting his friend deal with the interrogation on his own.

"Don't worry about Tom, he can get a bit moody sometimes." Edd forced a light laugh, the happiness not quite reaching his eyes. "How's married life been for you, then? Stressful? Wonderful? Depressing?"

"Oh, no. With my dear Ylva, everything is joyous. We're thinking about having children soon, you know. I'd like three boys, but I'm sure she'd prefer to have daughters instead." Tord was relaxing into his new, married persona, the lies easily sliding off his tongue.

"That sounds great! What about pe-"

Matt burst into the room, squealing delightedly between uncontrollable giggles. He scrambled over the table, knocking over Tord's glass of milk in the process, and landed unsteadily on the other side by the sink. Ylva whisked into the kitchen shortly afterwards, a large grin on her face that spoke of nothing but mischief.

"Edd, protect me!" Matt exclaimed with a crack in his voice, grabbing Edd's hoodie and ducking down in fear.

"Uh... What exactly is going on...?" Tord spoke up above the racket, holding his cigar between two fingers just inches from his face.

"She's trying to kill me!" Matt screeched back, causing both Tom and Tord's heads to snap towards Ylva with alarmed looks.

"Ylva, sweetheart, what is happening?" The Norwegian sat up properly, looking ready to spring to his feet at any second.

She didn't respond; her gloved hands were raised in an intimidating fashion and her pink tongue poked out from between her lips. Ylva sprinted straight at the table, leaping up at the very last second and placing one palm in the centre of the table to help her vault over it. There was a light thud as her feet hit the tiles flawlessly, her head already angled to face Matt, who was now trying -and failing- to hide behind Edd. She stepped to one side for a better trajectory, and before anyone could react she threw herself at the ginger male.

They landed roughly on the floor, but neither seemed to be hurt. Ylva straddled Matt, keeping him from wriggling free, then started poking at his sides with her fingers. His purple hoodie rode up, revealing bare skin that she tickled relentlessly as he laughed non-stop, squirming frantically to try and escape the hilarious torture.

"Well... That was unexpected." Tom muttered to himself, starting to doubt his doubt of Tord's reappearance.

"Come on, let him free, sol- Ylva." Tord stood up and headed over to the pair, holding the cigar between his teeth and offering his robotic hand for his 'wife' to grab and pull herself up with.

While she did so, the sleeve of her pink hoodie slipped up her arm. Instead of skin, Edd caught a glimpse of metal, but she had already pulled it back down before he could be sure. He frowned slightly, putting the thought to one side as he rescued Matt from the floor. Tom helped pick him up, and between them they held him up, his arms over their shoulders whole he giggled drunkenly.

"Wow, what a mess." Tord took Ylva's hand in his, squeezing a bit tighter than was necessary while she tried not to glare at him. "Don't worry, I'll clear it up while you guys watch TV. At least you've got sofas this time!"

Matt regained life and bounced off into the living room, filled with excitement. Edd was a little more reluctant, but it seemed like Tord really was good again. Tom stared at the married couple with narrowed eyes, but when Ylva just waved merrily back, he left the room.

The moment he was gone, Tord whipped around to face the girl. "Soldat, hva var du gjør?!" (Soldier, what were you thinking?!)

Ylva held her arms stiffly by her sides, not moving nor breaking eye contact. "Du sa meg å bli hyggelig å det marokkansk, herr." (You told me to be nice to the morons, sir.)

"Kunne du ikke se hvor mistenksom de var?" The sound of 'The Children' playing on the TV let him raise his voice slightly and not be heard. (Can you not see how suspicious they are?)

"Med alle det man har krav på respekt, herr, kanne du ikke se til å de er nå færre mistenksom av oss?" She shot back immediately, her voice completely void of the sweetness that was present when chatting with the Englishmen. (With all due respect, sir, can you not see that they are now less suspicious of us?)

He paused momentarily, trying to think of a way he could win the argument. "Very well. Keep it up, Ylva. I'm sorry."

"Thank you." She plastered on a fake smile within a microsecond, the sudden change in tone and appearance quite startling. "I'll go and check on the boys, sweetheart."

"I'll join you when I've cleaned up this mess, sweetheart." Tord nodded at her with an equally unnatural grin, turning to grab some kitchen towel to mop up the spilled milk on the wooden surface of the table. Ylva was just about to leave when he added, "wait."

"Yes?"

He looked over his shoulder at her, eyes darkened with determination. "Vi sjekker på dem i kveld, soldat." (We check on them tonight, soldier.)

~

I used a translate site because, unfortunately, I cannot speak Norwegian. If you happen to be fluent in Norwegian, feel free to correct any mistakes!

Hope you enjoyed (: