Harrowheart (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
westfallcorndog) wrote2018-01-10 10:27 pm
westfallcorndog) wrote2018-01-10 10:27 pm
Entry tags:
Get Your Goddess (For Juststeverogers)
After what happened at Halloween, Harrowheart avoided Steve's well-meaning attempts at a connection. During the winter holidays the two traded a plant for a promise of a dinner with family. Now that the celebrations have passed and things are calming down at Naugus' tower, Harrowheart finally sends a message to Steve to make good on his offer.
* * *
At Ixis Naugus' tower signs of the human refugees who live and work there now are everywhere. A fence with a gate has been constructed which keeps strangers from accidentally wandering near. Beyong, a U-shaped table with benched seating has been assembled at the center of the property. Around it is the evidence of the family's farming. Though it's winter now and a thin snow covers the ground it's still clear that much of the land has been tilled, and in some places remnants of fall's harvest remain; the smallest stumps of cornstalks poke up from the ground, a conical bale of straw is piled in the center of what must have been a wheat field. Smaller gardens for fruit and vegetables are fenced off, but only one is currently being used to grow some type of bush with periwinkle berries the size of small tomatoes.
Two little creatures and a tall, blonde man are waiting to greet Steve and his monsters when they arrive. One of them is a kind of hairy piglet, while the other is a sentient coniferous tree no taller than knee height. Both of them have made a mess of the snow around them and are covered in sparkling frost, but they've still got the energy in them to play. More energy than their human friend, who leans against the fence eating a handful of those sunrise-purple berries.
It isn't Harrowheart, though at a glance they might be mistaken for each other. No, this is a living man bundled well against the cold with a bulky brown jacket and fur-lined boots. He wears a hat with ear flaps and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. From the looks of him he's in his late forties, but if it weren't for his lively color and age he could easily pass for Harrowheart. They must be brothers!
Steve! Come by Naugs tower. Virgin Mary is waiting for you and so is food (and my family.) Bring Bucky and Ethle and Sara too!!At Ixis Naugus' tower signs of the human refugees who live and work there now are everywhere. A fence with a gate has been constructed which keeps strangers from accidentally wandering near. Beyong, a U-shaped table with benched seating has been assembled at the center of the property. Around it is the evidence of the family's farming. Though it's winter now and a thin snow covers the ground it's still clear that much of the land has been tilled, and in some places remnants of fall's harvest remain; the smallest stumps of cornstalks poke up from the ground, a conical bale of straw is piled in the center of what must have been a wheat field. Smaller gardens for fruit and vegetables are fenced off, but only one is currently being used to grow some type of bush with periwinkle berries the size of small tomatoes.
Two little creatures and a tall, blonde man are waiting to greet Steve and his monsters when they arrive. One of them is a kind of hairy piglet, while the other is a sentient coniferous tree no taller than knee height. Both of them have made a mess of the snow around them and are covered in sparkling frost, but they've still got the energy in them to play. More energy than their human friend, who leans against the fence eating a handful of those sunrise-purple berries.
It isn't Harrowheart, though at a glance they might be mistaken for each other. No, this is a living man bundled well against the cold with a bulky brown jacket and fur-lined boots. He wears a hat with ear flaps and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. From the looks of him he's in his late forties, but if it weren't for his lively color and age he could easily pass for Harrowheart. They must be brothers!
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They pass by the communal table outdoors and Lawrence leads them into Naugus' castle. Rather than opening normally the crystal that makes up the doorway shifts and slides away magically to reveal the interior. Typical Ixis bullshit, but Lawrence is used to it by now. Once inside Lawrence peels off his gloves and shrugs off his jacket, revealing that his right arm from the elbow down is some kind of advanced prosthetic made of shiny black panels. He hangs his coat and hat on the nearby rack and stuffs his gloves into the waistband of his pants.
The next room Lawrence leads them to is the communal living and sleeping area. There are about a dozen cots and long sofas crammed into a space that feels much smaller for all of it. Sitting on one of the couches is a very tall, thin woman who's busying herself sewing up a hole in the knee of a pair of pants. Lawrence greets her by way of grunt and she looks up...
To immediately be struck by the sight of the man her brother is with. Her lips part, revealing her long front teeth, and she stares.
"Steve," Lawrence says.
Anna only blinks.
Lawrence gestures to the woman on the couch and introduces her as "Anna. Our sister."
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Steve's glad for the further introductions to draw his mind away from that arm and the potential reasons why it looks the way it does.
Well that's...certainly a reaction. It probably doesn't help that Steve's pulled off his coat and gloves, leaving him in his tucked in teeshirt and jeans while he follows Lawrence into the living area. He raises one hand jerkily up from where they were planted on his hips and waves it before putting it back.
"Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Steve."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Ba9_jaN7EA
In a sudden rush of movement that makes her bounce on the couch she shrugs her shoulders and sets down her sewing and looks to the trousers she's dropped on her knees. Just don't look at him and he's NOT. THERE.
Lawrence, an asshole, starts to laugh. "Nice," he whispers under his breath. A little louder, to Steve, he says, "Anyway, I'm going to go find Harrowheart and the Virgin Lady you actually came here for."
He passes through the sitting room, pausing briefly before Anna for a second of staring and a final bark of a laugh. And then he's gone, off to find the
wizarddeath knight.Anna doesn't look up at her brother or Steve, but balls her hands into impotent little fists. She remains in painful silence for a while before finally croaking, "We met." A few more seconds and she explains, "My brother and I were children, and I was having a really bad day." She looks up in a hurry and begs, "Please don't hold that against me? I always meant to make up for crying and running off, but..."
But she didn't, did she?
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But she starts talking.
Well, she starts talking down to the pants she's patching up at least. And that's an action Steve hasn't done in a long time. He gives a faint smile Anna won't see.
"We have? Whe--oh!" Steve nods then. He does vaguely remember that day in the Plaza. It's been a long time for him though he knows it will have been a lot fresher a memory to her. "I didn't realize he hadn't been lying about both your names. I sort of figured Harrow was trying to tool with me."
Steve folds his arms across his chest then, tries to offer a comforting smile.
"It's forgiven don't worry. Body dysphoria is a pretty heavy thing to get used to. I know that pretty well now."
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"Ah...I don't remember. Percy, maybe. No, that's not right. Parker? Oh, wait no that's the kid Tony's mentoring. It was something like that, but I distinctly remember he told me his middle name was Buchanen, after my best friend who I was pretty sure was dead at the time."
Kind of hard to forget that part.
"Once I realized it was Harrow, I sort of assumed he'd been lying about both of you to pull one over on me."
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"Heyoooooo!" he shouts as he steps in from another room, arms held wide. "Steve! Man! I finally got you over here!" He looks around the cramped living space and laughs self-consciously. "Ixis Naugus has been real good to us, sharin' his castle and all. I'm workin' on buildin' myself a place, you'll have to come see it when it's done. Or, Hell, get those big-ass biceps to work helpin' me build it."
He goes in for a hug, pats Steve's back, and when he lets him go plants his wrap-bound hands on his hips. "You still livin' in the same apartment as before or what?"
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As polite as Steve's been up until now he really breaks out a grin when he spies his friend. He's at the death knight's side immediately, returning the hug and grinning form ear to ear.
"Your own place? Of course I'll help with the construction. I've never built a whole house before but I am good at heavy lifting and reinforcement." He shoots a grin Harrow's way when the other pulls back.
"For now, yeah. I'm actually house hunting myself. Not looking to build my own though. I can't leave those three to look after themselves for that long."
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"Those thr-- Right! Your little friends! Shoot, I gotta say hello to them when we serve up the food. But... You don't think they'd wanna help you build a house? I bet they'd love it. Ethel can carry the boards and Bucky can shingle the roof. And Sarah..." He huffs a laugh and elbows Steve. "She can be the foreman."
Then he nods toward the room he'd just come from and starts leading Steve that way. They wind up in the kitchen, spacious and warm, made of rock and crystal as everything in Ixis Naugus' tower is. A large iron roasting pot sits on one of the counters, but whatever food is concealed inside is hidden by its lid. Crystal bowls and 'silver'ware set beside it -- enough for a dozen place settings at least. And off in one corner of the kitchen, there she is... The Virgin Mary.
She's still in good condition, and apparently well tended to. Tiny tea lights are burning near her feet, and dribbles of wax on the countertop are proof that this has been the way of things for a while. A tiny crystal plate in front of her has a serving of sliced, crisped potatoes and a spoonful of beef stew, and a nearby teacup is half filled with honeyed tea. Tucked against the wall and leaning on her robes is a printed photograph. The quality isn't perfect, but it's quickly obvious why: It's a photo Harrow must have taken from his phone. An off-center selfie of himself and Steve the way he was before his disappearance. Small, sick, yet nonetheless smiling.
"Here she is!" Harrow announces. "Our lady. Guess we both oughta thank her for lookin' out for you, huh?" And then with a laugh, "Maybe we prayed for you too much. She made you too strong."
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Not for the first time, Steve's overcome with emotion when he spies the statuette. It's like a little shrine in the corner of the kitchen. In this place where space is at a premium they've given Mary her own corner and looked after her ever since Steve's been gone. It's the photo that makes Steve's eyes water and he has to duck his head and quickly brush aside his tears.
"Thank you, Harrow." His voice is thick with emotion when he first speaks. "Thank you so much."
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He nods toward the roasting pot before he grabs it. "Now let's cut the sappy stuff and get some lunch in us." He calls back to the living room, "Anna! Call the little critters in, will ya?" By the time he's leading Steve back to that cramped room with the beds, couches, and cots Anna is already gone.
Harrow sets the pot on one of the small tables. He returns to the kitchen for bowls and utensils, and that's when he thinks to ask Steve something.
"Hey, man... You remember at Halloween there was that undead woman I was with? You don't mind if she's around for lunch, do ya?"
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"You don't have to feed me, you know. But I appreciate it all the same." Harrow's a pretty decent cook. This much Steve remembers. It's all odd sorts of recipes but he's yet to try anything he hasn't liked. Harrow's mention of an undead girl makes him pause, but he does remember Harrow heart having a tag along that night vaguely.
"Sure, the more the merrier." She wasn't much of a talker though, if he's remembering right.
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In the next few minutes a substantial crowd filters into the living area. First comes Lawrence, Anna, and the pokémon. The critters get to eat while the humans sit and Harrowheart scoops some kind of sliced-potato-topped stew. Just as his youngest brothers, Matt and Max, arrive, so does the undead woman Steve had met at the Halloween event. She's looking... Bad. Really that's the only way to describe it. Her movements are disconnected and jerky, loose and sudden like a marionette's dance. Her milky eyes are wide and searching, her skin discolored yet thankfully not sloughing off.
Anna turns away when she sees it, and Lawrence tenses. Matt and Max look down and mumble their uncomfortable thanks when the thrall stiffly hands them their bowls of food. Harrowheart blithely continues to spoon up portions which she delivers to his sisters, Robin and Heather, and their girlfriend and husband, Estella and Jacob. When his mother and father arrive Hardtman holds his wife close and both of them refuse to eat from bowls delivered by the minion, so Anna serves them instead. Only Harrowheart's niece, 10-year-old Kenny with her dark skin and frizzy hair, grins at the sight of the zombie. She's happy to take a bowl of food from a monster, and finds a place to sit near Steve so that she can listen to his stories. He's got stories, right?
If he does, people are reluctant to ask. They introduce themselves and smile, but conversation doesn't come easily with an unwelcome presence in the room. For a few minutes the only sounds are spoons against bowls until Harrowheart turns to Steve and asks, "So, man, I got no idea what your life's been like since you left. What've you been up to? Fill us in!"
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"Do you want a hand serving? Here..." But the woman won't meet his gaze, refuses to answer him. He pulls back then, teeth sinking into his lip slightly. There might be a reason she's been so quiet and he doesn't want to draw any more unnecessary attention to her especially since Harrow's family aren't exactly being the most accepting about her presence.
He isn't sure what to do, but murmurs a thanks when she hands him a bowl of food. Doesn't try to meet her gaze again.
Steve's startled when Harrow does finally speak up, nearly dropping his spoon at the hand falling on his shoulder. He smiles then, giving a duck of his head.
"Well, I told you already I don't remember much about leaving. Or how I ended up like this. It was pretty touch and go for a while there. But uh, things have been pretty strange since I ended up getting sent back to my world. Back to my time even."
Steve glances around the table giving a polite questioning look to Harrow's family.
"Is...is it alright if I...I'm a soldier." He starts. As if that will explain his hesitation. There's kids at the table after all. "My world was at war when I got sent back home."
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"Don't worry, Steve," Lawrence says, "Everyone here knows about war. Mom and Dad, me and Anna, Harrowheart... Even Kenny. Even if we haven't all seen it, we've all heard stories. Don't hold back on our account."
Harrowheart nods along and points his utensil at his niece, Kendra. "She loves war stories. She loves monster stories especially."
"She loves monsters," Mrs. Weatherhill says with a beleaguered sigh. Kenny, for her part, only smiles proudly. She does love monsters.
And then all eyes are on Steve. He's got stories, they've got ears.
Steve looks at the MCU and realizes he has ten years of stories to tell
The world Steve comes from was locked in a brutal war to stop a man hell bent on genocide, but all the sides in this fight are human. One faction of humans fighting another slightly different group. One man declaring an entire subsection of their own kind unworthy of living. Steve spares them the details of the camps he saw. He talks lovingly instead of his hand picked team; the Howling Commandos. A special ops force in the army who had one job: fighting back Hydra at any cost. The special division of the army they were fighting against. But see, Steve's world isn't supposed to have things like magic. At least, that's what the thought was back then.
The Tesseract changed a lot of things on Earth.
Steve is brief when he says he had a chance to remove it from human hands and he took it. At the time he thought it would cost him his life. Whether because of the artifact or the changes that saved his life, he was merely in stasis instead for more than half a century.
"The world looked mighty different when I came to." Steve glances down at his bowl and takes another bite before he looks back to Harrowheart. "It looked more like the Earth everyone else in the Nexus talks about."
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The answers to those questions aren't the ones they want to know. What they want, and which none of them are able to express, is how something as deplorable as war could happen anywhere but on their own world. How could it be universal? Does it mean that war is inevitable? Is it really a part of life?
Even if there is an answer, perhaps it's best they not know.
Instead they listen to Steve's stories of victory, and, bitter as the ending is, it fills them with pride and excitement. Steve Rogers! The friend of their brother and their son! Their friend now, too! A war hero!
But none of them sympathize with Steve the way Harrowheart does. He claps a hand on Steve's shoulder and smiles, not joyously as his war-ignorant family but quietly and with the slightest upward tilt of his brows. "I know that a part of you didn't want to go," he says. "But the other part of you knew you had to. You probably hear so much of this you're tired of it by now, but... Steve... You've been through so much. I'm proud of you."
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The hand he places over Harrow's respectfully is too large and too warm to be Steve's. No it is his now. This is his body. This is who he is. The scrawny illness riddled walking corpse he used to be died in the Arctic. The man who came out had lost everything. Bucky, Peggy, Howard, the Commandos. The Nexus. He had to read about his flourished and embellished past in museums and hear people talk about him like he was some kind of folk hero and all too quickly the fights came again. The battle for New York. The Winter Soldier. Ultron. The Accords.
How could Harrowheart be proud of a man who forgot him for years? During the war there was no time to be nostalgic for the Nexus, and after he was frozen it had begun to feel like something he cooked up during his long years of sleep. Having those sketchbooks back in his hands and seeing the faces of his old friends smiling back at him brought everything to the surface again. It's why when he went to ground after Bucky was safely handed over to T'Challa's people he came back to the only other home he had ever known.
The Nexus.
To think so little time had passed here! To think that the man who was used to losing everything still had something to come home to. Still had friends who knew him--really knew him--and not some built up legend of him.
"That's only the first part, Harrow. I've been fighting in that future Earth for years now too. Time travel is weird that way. I guess you could say I was catching up to the present when I made my way back here." And how wet and full of some kind of intense emotion Steve's eyes get then. "You were still here. You knew me. I missed you so much, my friend."
If anyone will understand that kind of emotion Steve holds in his heart he hasn't been able to speak about, surely it's the man who came back from the dead much more literally than Steve did.
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"Steve..." The name comes quietly, sadly in a hushed whisper. "You've been gone for years."
It's really sinking in now. Years. Not just one war, but several. Years of death and violence. The thought of it burns at the edges of the scrap of a soul still left in Harrow's chest. It's too familiar, and deep down, hidden under the dark magic that hardened his heart, it hurts. It hurts to think about Steve's struggle. The physical battles, of course, but the emotional ones, too. How lonely must his friend have been? How lost?
Harrow knows how much. He can see it in his eyes.
He turns to his family and, attempting a smile, says, "Y'all mind if Steve and I go on outside?"
A few of them shake their heads. They understand. Harrow nods, stands, and motions for Steve to follow, if he will.
Outside, Harrow slowly takes a seat at the communal table. He doesn't look at Steve right away, but presses his palms together and watches as his fingers slowly intertwine.
"We got too much in common now," he mutters. "I said I'm proud of what you did, and I meant it, but... I know it don't feel like a proud thing to go through. I always hated when my family said they were proud of me for goin' to war, not just once but twice. Straight away it always took my mind to all the mistakes I made. All the things I did wrong, or didn't do enough of. All my selfish reasons for bein' on the field in the first place."
Finally he glances at his friend, a sidelong look that doesn't last.
"Is it like that for you, too?"
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"It is."
Steve doesn't need to elaborate when Harrow's explanation cuts to the meat of all the things the soldier wishes he'd done differently. All the accusations that Steve Rogers couldn't live without a war to be fighting in. The world he lives in now has two opinions about Steve Rogers; a radical vigilante who thinks himself above the law, or an untarnished symbol of American values and someone to idolize. There's no room for the man with real flaws and virtues just trying to do his best.
"I did things I'm not proud of. And I know I'd do most of them again, if I was in the same set of circumstances. So much has happened. Everything's a mess there now, but for one thing."
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My cat is so offended I'm writing this instead of snuggling with her bc it is bedtime
"Bucky's recovering somewhere safe. I can't go see him yet He needs time to find himself again. Walk on his own two legs. I won't take that from him. But he's back. He's really truly back and he's going to be okay."
Steve would do all of it again. Every mistake and every tormented loss if it meant his oldest friend would be okay like this. Some of the life that had left his face when he talked about being lost has found its way back to his features now.
"The world might have become a scary strange place to both of us, but we're at least both still here."
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"So he's free," he says, and finds it in himself to smile too. It starts small, hesitant, but soon grows into something so sincere. He throws an arm around Steve's shoulder and laughs as the realization fills his own cold heart with the warmth of a little life.
"I know how much that's gotta mean to you, man. I wish – Shoot, I wish I had words, is what I wish. I can't wait to hear about the next time you see him."
He pauses a moment to look Steve's face over. To really get an idea of what he's thinking and feeling. His smile fades until only a hint of it remains and he pats Steve's far arm with his hand. "It feels right, don't it? Knowin' you got someone out there who really matters to you. You deserve that, man. He deserves that, too."
Steve you sweet summer child you have no idea what the MCU is going to do to you
Steve shrugs. It's hard not to be there for Bucky right now but he knows it's for the best. Not to smother the other when he's still relearning who he is. How to be a person again rather than just The Asset.
"It's enough to know he's alright. I'll get to see him eventually. Maybe I'll get the chance to bring him here, introduce him to my friends in the Nexus." He's sure Bucky would love to see Steve's sketches come to life right off the page. Discover all the things his pal used to doodle about in that notebook of his. Introduce him to Viatorus and Isidor, Blaze and Ghost, Harrowheart and his big family.
"Everything else, I'd do it again to make sure he made it out alright. But I can't just...you got me talking about me for ever, here." Steve gestures behind them back toward the door they came from. "What've I missed? How have you been, Harrow?"
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He laughs quietly when Steve tries to turn the conversation around on him. "I've been, man, I've been. Got... Nothin' worth sharin' goin' on in my life right now, y'know? Gimme a few months, maybe somethin'll happen. You've been gone a couple'a decades back on Earth, but it's only been, what? Couple'a months here? Life and unlife, it's the same as it's always been." His laugh becomes more honest now and the shaking of his head leaves him looking away.
"Sure would be nice to meet Bucky some day," he mumbles aloud. "Some day."