ilthit: (Polly Perks)
[personal profile] ilthit posting in [community profile] anythingdrabble
Title: The Road from Brúardalur
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters/Pairings: Onni Hotakainen /& Reynir Árnason (bring your own goggles)
Word Count: 300
Rating: PG
Summary: What if Reynir took Onni up on the offer to punch him? Honestly, that's it, that's the whole content. Onni is getting punched in the face.

(Could I have tags for challenge 8 and the fandom? Unless I should tag with the current past prompts number instead?)


Onni's head snapped back as the knuckles connected with his jaw, the electric jolt of pain cutting off all conscious thought. He found his footing, one foot back, and forced the crackle of magic in his palms to calm down. Reynir had a harder punch than he'd expected.

"I guess I deserved that," he grunted, and touched his chin with the tips of his fingers. That would swell and bruise.

Reynir stood with his feet apart on the road into Brúardalur, bristling with energy. He flexed the fingers of his right hand, his mouth a hard line of reproval. He had to be feeling his side of that jolt.

This… fledgling mage wasn't supposed to matter. He hadn't even supposed to be there, in the Silent World, next to Onni’s sister—where Onni should have been. The downward spiral that Onni’s life had been in since that day in Toivonsaari… it had nothing to do with this Icelander. He was snatching at a dead leaf, already floating down the black river. Why bother?

But even so... Onni had deserved it. "Let that be the end of it," he said. "We're quits."

He turned to walk away.

"But... No, wait."

Onni's scowl deepened. He could remember now that he'd punched Reynir, and why. Footsteps caught up to him. "What?"

Reynir's hand on his sleeve. Onni flinched.

"I don't want to be quits." Reynir's eyes were green, he realized for the first time, like a shallow lake under sunlight. "Please. I want to, um..."

"What?"

"Talk?"

Onni shook his head. "I need to go."

"When will you be back?"

"I won't be."

Walking away felt like ripping free of a spider's web, leaving it in tatters behind him. Tendons of connections broke off, one by one, as he left it all behind.

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