Most things in Hyrrokkin's life were unplanned, especially ever since The Court of Rats had wandered into it. She's come to anticipate the unexpected these days. That, however, doesn't mean she has to enjoy all of them that come along. One of those that always came as an inconvenience to her, was being caught in the rain. Nevertheless, caught in the rain with Vankasken.
They had been out enjoying the warm weather and talking, or rather, more so bickering, as old friends might when suddenly the sky turned gray and and rain began to pour down on them. Because it had been unexpected, Hyrrokkin was without her cloak, leaving her arms and head bare to the pelting rain. To say the draconian witch was sour was an understatement, especially seeing how her present companion had his own cloak of raven feathers to shield him from the worst of the weather.
Hyrrokkin let out a low growl and swept her soaked bangs back off of her forehead before returning her hands to where they cradled and rubbed at her crossed arms in an attempt to keep warm. It was futile for the most part, that much she knew as she stalked through the mud, but it was something. She didn't miss the rumble of Vankasken's chuckle from her left side, and perhaps with it, the shiver that ran up her spine may not have been from the cold.
Shrugging her shoulders, the witch shook her head and returned her attention towards the path ahead of them with a scowl. She'd allowed herself to begin drifting into her thoughts as a way of helping to ignore the chill, but it also had her unprepared for the arm that wrapped around her shoulders and drew her in against Vankasken's side.
Anticipated is not the word Hyrrokkin would use with this turn of events. She and Vankasken's time together was more often than not comprised of prodding, teasing comments and irritated remarks. So to put it lightly, for such a friendly, almost intimate action to come from the necromancer was a long shot from anything Hyrro would have expected. It had her at a loss of just what to do or say, leaving her awkwardly huddled against Vankasken.
The thought made her heart flutter, and she cursed it. The sensation was something she hadn't experienced in years and yet, she still knew it well. It was dangerous, and yet still she found herself unmoving from his side. In her mind, she explained it as her disdain for the rain, yet with the way her skin prickled when pressed so close to the necromancer, it was hard to deny that this was nice.
She let out a sigh, and with it could feel Vankasken's gaze on her. Carefully brushing her damp bangs from her face with a scarred hand, the blacksmith let her own green eyes drift upwards towards the necromancer. His brow was arched, curiosity and expectancy easily read in his expression. It almost made Hyrrokkin want to scoff, but she didn't. She bit it back with a nip to her tongue and shifted, raising one hand to her shoulder where Vankasken's own hand rested to keep his cloak over her head.
"Thank you," she whispered, fingertips brushing along his his knuckles before falling back to her side. For a moment, she thought he may not have heard her, but then a crooked, all too knowing grin spread across Vankasken's lips, flashing his yellowed teeth. His expression almost made her regret her decision to say anything. That is until he glanced back up and diverted his attention towards the unmarked path ahead of them.
It didn't take much to hear him finally. "Don't mention it, Fireheart," he rumbled and pulled the witch even closer to himself. Were Hyrrokkin anyone else, the affectionate way he called her nickname and pulled her close might have made her melt. But no, not her. No matter how she subtly smiled, that'd never be her.
YOU ARE READING
The Hawk and The Rat
RomansA booklet of shorts written around Hyrrokkin Andersdottir and Vankasken Bjornsson from the Ensam-ar-Stark ARPG on DeviantArt.