blades before babes

It's winter now, deep enough into the season that drifts of snow cover the grounds, marred only by the desire paths formed by the regular routes residents tend to take as they go about their days: between the Mansion's many doors and the greenhouses, the training ground, the stable, Magnus and Alex's camp (which is cozier than ever), the not-so-secret training clearing deep in the forest, his family's house, the regular archery range and the forest archery range, the pier, the beach... okay, there are actually a ton of desire paths cobwebbing around the grounds.

There is a large swath of unadulterated snow along the gentle hill to the left of the Mansion's main entrance, and it's here that Magnus is setting up shop. First he drags out a folding table. Then he goes to the kitchen for, like, so many carrots and powdered Kool-aid singles and Crystal Light packs and maple syrup and condensed milk and hot chocolate sachets and bags of tea. Then he goes to the arts and crafts room in the basement for popsicle sticks, buttons, and a box of dress-up clothes. Finally, he drags over his outdoor fireplace from camp, lights it, and sets his grill grates over it. Upon this he places a huge pot of water and a smaller pot of the maple syrup; the final pot (which has a bag of popcorn kernels, a bottle of oil, a salt shaker, and a bag of sugar tucked underneath the lid) he sets to the side.

Then, confident he'll soon have people stopping by to see what's up, he starts rolling snowballs.

Magnus knows his mom is coming, he just doesn't know when. So while he's always been a tidy guy, he ratchets up several levels as summer fades into autumn. (After all, the last vistor's day was in the fall!)

Camp is always spotless, or at least as spotless as an outdoor living situation can be. He organizes and reorganizes his cooler, and starts putting the stuff that doesn't need to be weather-protected onto the shelves he and Laertes have been building. There's a proper sort of lean-to shanty half-built on the far side of the clearing — the opposite side from Magnus and Alex's bed-and-belongings set-up. Mostly it's going to be space to store Alex's artwork and outfits — plus Magnus's few belongings — but there's a planned dedicated space on one side for Drosera to sleep now that she's gotten way too big for her dog beds and bird perches. With Alex and Galahad's help, he figures out how to build a big swing that hangs from the branch he'd climbed when Shen Yuan painted him; it doubles as extra seating. The trampoline is pristine; the makeshift shelter he built before Alex arrived looks more like a permanent outdoor camp than a cobbled-together array of tarps and canvases. It's perfect for the changing of the season and the cooling weather, though he does make a mental note to ask Dad(s) if he and Alex can come crash if there's another blizzard like there was at the end of Dark last year. (They'd survived, obviously, and mostly been cozy after the snow covered camp, but it was... a lot.)

It's a lovely autumn morning when Natalie does come. Magnus has, for once, not picked Sunny up for adventures bright and early — their plans are for after lunch — but he still wakes up at the buttcrack of dawn every day now out of habit, so he takes advantage of the time to do his and Alex's laundry back at the mansion. He's freshly arrived back at the camp, kneeling on his favorite patch of moss, folding one of Alex's fluffy skirts when—

"Hey, pumpkin."

Boxer shorts and t-shirts go flying. "Mom," Magnus cries, dashing headlong into a hug. He doesn't feel like pulling his strength, so he sweeps her up instead, spinning her around, laughing and laughing and laughing.

They take an hour or so to catch up. Magnus tells her all about his life —

"Pumpkin, I'm so sorry I left you alone to deal with all of that."

"It's not your fault, mom. I did my best. I didn't go to Randolph, I—" and he's crushed against her side again as she pulls him into a hug.

— and death —

Natalie's lips thin when he mentions Randolph's quest for the sword, and her face blanches when he tells her about Surt. There's a stormy look behind her eyes as he talks about the all-faith chapel, but the look softens when he tells her about Annabeth. Throughout, her hand is warm on his, her grip steady, unchanging.

—and afterlife. He makes a big show of ignoring her when she tries to apologize for not telling him about his heritage, and instead tells her about his valkyrie and his hallmates and his Alex. She tells him she's proud of him for stopping Loki and postponing Ragnarok, and when he tells her that Alex is sometimes his girlfriend and sometimes his boyfriend, she gives him a resounding kiss to his forehead. And she looks misty enough when he mentions meeting Frey that he doesn't complain for even one second about how useless Frey can be, just says that he managed to visit here once during the summer.

"And where's 'here,' pumpkin?" Natalie asks, glancing around. "It doesn't look like Valhalla..."

"It's not, it's some... pocket world," Magnus tells her. "Not one of the Nine. It's mostly totally separate."

"Mostly?"

"Sometimes stuff leaks through. Hanguang-jun's brother gets his letters. Frey heard a few of my prayers."

"A few of your—!" and she crushes him to her side again. "You? Praying?"

Magnus laughs, ducking his head. "I know. I know. I was surprised too. It's, um." He pauses, then admits, "Mostly snarky."

Natalie laughs, misty-eyed. "That's my boy," she says, fondly.

"There's, um, some people you should probably — I mean, would you like to meet some of the people here? The important ones? To me?" When Alex came, she wanted to wander and get to know the place on her own terms, because she's Alex; that's her way. But Magnus isn't letting his mother out of his sight until she gets yanked away by the powers that be. "They're, like. Sort of like my adoptive family at this point."

"Okay, kiddo," and when Natalie gets to her feet, she's as limber as he remembers, easily rising. She's so, so beautiful with her blonde pixie cut and sharp green eyes and the wicked smile — with its fledgling smile lines — etched into her mouth. She still looks the same as he remembers — forty-two, athletic, always ready to laugh — which he guesses does make sense.

He loves her so much. He rises, too, and as he's rising tells her, "I love you so much. I missed you so m—" and again, the rest of the word gets muffled in a hug.

(It feels, Magnus thinks, like there's a spell over her visit. Like if he asks her where she went when she died, he'll break it. (There isn't a spell. He still — he'll let her tell him, if she wants to, and he won't pry. He's just happy to have her.))

Eventually, she asks, "So who exactly are all these people?"

Magnus purses his lips. "Hanguang-jun is probably the easiest to find. He and Galahad will be done with training and he'll be doing his, like, sky patrol right about now. Alex is at the kiln, so we can make our way there. And then... well, you can come with me to lunch and meet Sagramore and Sunny and Laertes." He takes his mom by the hand and leads her from the trees, explaining who these people are to him as they walk.

( Hanguang-jun )
( Alex )
( Sagramore )
( Sunny )
( Laertes )+++
Lunch is a rambunctious affair, and Magnus's heart is so, so full throughout it. He wishes Alex was feeling up to joining them — especially since Sunny is still jealously subdued, and he really thinks they could do with talking to each other — but his mom gets along well with everyone, and he's teased within an inch of his life. He helps do the dishes after, trying to coax Sunny into a smile and letting Mom have a parent-parent conference in lowered voices with Dadgramore behind them, and then asks if Sunny still wants to keep their afternoon plans, since his mom would definitely be joining them.

She doesn't, and so his next order of business is leaving a note for Alex at camp about the whole affair, and then he and his mom are packing up for a night under the stars. "We could find our own camp spot," he tells her, "but also my Evil Twin gave Galahad Frey-dad's boat, so we could also do that. Oh, you have to meet Galahad, he's my best friend, he can sketch us! And take our picture! And if we run into Claudius or Uncle D or Shen Yuan or, like, I guess my sword teacher, I'll introduce you, too. And—"

"Honey," Natalie says, pulling Magnus into a firm hug. "Slow down. We have a full day ahead of us. We have time for everything."

Magnus takes a deep breath and doesn't argue that one day isn't long enough. He wants so much more time, but... he's also so thrilled to have any time at all. "Okay," he says, and gives his mom one more squeeze. "Okay. One thing at a time. Wanna hike?"

"Yeah, pumpkin," says Natalie. "I really do."



Single-tag reactions from other residents encountering them on their post-lunch walk are welcome - and ones from the characters Magnus specifically mentioned at the end are especially encouraged!

It's been a big few days in general, and this day, specifically, has also been pretty big, and so Magnus does the number two thing that reliably lets him reach a place where he feels more grounded: he goes to Hanguang-jun's parlor at a time when Hanguang-jun is also there playing music. (Number one, of course, is burying his face against Alex's belly and groaning. Number three, embarrassingly, is still finding a summery spot outside and praying to his dad.)

This time, he has a stack of comic books to go through -- he wants to start making tailored recommendation lists, for Tally and Lancelot (who he's made general recommendations to), but also for Galahad and Sagramore and Sunny and Hanguang-jun and Gideon and Shen Yuan and Gu Xiang and Tress and Nina. So he lays on the ground for a while, paging through issues while Hanguang-jun quietly picks out a tune on his qin and Danding nibbles his hair.

But after about half an hour, he's still got excitement and overstimulation brimming through his veins, so he sets Sensational She-Hulk #39 to one side (it's definitely going on Lancelot's list, probably also Tally's, possibly also Gideon's), twists his head, and waits for a lull in the music. When it comes, he says, "Hanguang-jun? I have... stuff. Not crisisy stuff. Mostly good stuff, and also... some questionsy stuff."

Ever since Magnus learned that Hanguang-jun keeps a regular schedule, he's been doing his best to memorize it. Without asking Galahad to tell it to him, because that just seems like it's cheating.

It helps that Magnus already knows about Galahad's training time, which he does sometimes now crash... just to watch, not to participate; it's an inoculation against the jealousy that still clings at the edges of his vision whenever he watches them interact. But now he knows the times Hanguang-jun flies around to survey the grounds, and the times that he's in his room doing stuff Magnus doesn't need to know about, and the times he's in the kitchens cooking, and --

Well. Anyway. It's helpful, because now that the secret garden he and Claudius are growing for Hanguang-jun is getting big, he can, like, try to cover it so Hanguang-jun can't see it from the air.

It's also helpful on a day like today, when he's been worrying over his conversation with Luo Binghe and (admittedly) getting a little worked up over the thought of what needs to happen to bring Aornis down. He's sitting on a log just outside of tree cover, watching the skies for Hanguang-jun and Bichen, ruminating. When they fly into his field of vision, he leaps up, waving Hanguang-jun down.

Across the next two days, the following individuals will have the following invitation hand-delivered to them whenever Magnus happens to run across them: Enjolras, Gideon, Gu Xiang, Laertes, Lan Wangji, Mothwing, SecUnit, Sunny, Susan, Tress, and Shen Yuan's growing plant body. Alex, who is a good chunk of the entertainment on deck, also gets one; Magnus gives himself one for good measure, too. The final invitation, of course, goes to Galahad.

Spring is definitely still a couple weeks away, but Magnus can feel it approaching. The snow is getting softer, melting down into mush; bizarrely, he can start to sense that plants and animals are quivering to grow.

Emboldened by the promise of an end to winter, and still on a kick of wanting to be helpful to people, Magnus decides to make preparations. To that end, he selects a particular book from the library, has Alex and Galahad help him hunt down some toolsets, and goes to the third shed behind the orchards. There, he drags out a couple of the busted-up bicycles he and Galahad found in there the day they found Drosera and sets to work trying to fix them up enough that people can ride them.

Dro is with him. She's incredibly helpful (read: trying to hide the tools in the same way she likes hiding all of Galahad's charcoals), and Magnus ends up opening the door the the first shed, too, so she can explore where she came from. She's inside, screeching about how she can't fit inside the old doghouse anymore, while Magnus takes a break to eat a sandwich and watch the clouds. He's about to go talk to her when he spots Hanguang-jun flying on his sword, and waves.

...The glass from the display case hits first. Some of it breaks apart, some of it breaks his skin. A large shard slices his bicep open; twitching away from it leaves his side vulnerable again to the sword.

It's weird. Magnus has gotten so used to not being hurt. For a single, strange moment, he finds himself relieved that he and Galahad cut off his toe a few weeks ago -- at least he still remembers just how bad pain can be. It's less the sword cutting through his flank, and more that the sword pins him to the ground in a way that would, frankly, be extremely difficult to get himself free from by himself.

For five bright, shining moments, all he knows is pain. It's different from the fire of actual fire burning his guts out, but it's just as sharp, just as eviscerating. He tries his best not to move and make it worse, but reaching for his healing abilities -- always harder for himself than others -- feels even more impossible. Something about the dark of the depths of winter, or whatever it was he'd heard people talking about the other day.

How fucking stupid, he thinks, as the weird hallway melts back into the now-familiar ambiance of the Mansion. The glass doesn't disappear, though, and neither does the sword pinning him to the ground. The world at the edges of his vision is going dark, hazy. Is that Ginnungagap? Alex just got here, and now I'm leaving her. He hopes she manages to find a way to settle in even without him.

Distantly, he can hear footsteps approach.

Magnus has come to realize that nobody else in this entire place is presently in a relationship that has lasted nearly as long as his and Alex's. Shen Yuan's concept of "communication" "with" "Luo Binghe" is continuing to horrify him every time he thinks about it. What if there are other people who could use the advice of a sixteen-year-old twenty-five-year-old virgin who has been in a committed relationship for nearly seven years with someone to who he is probably widely known to have never verbally declared the undying depths of his love? (Gods, he hopes Alex figures out a way to do another little visit for their rapidly-approaching anniversary)

To that end, he posts an announcement sign over the welcome table, in the café, and on the door to the kitchen. It reads:

NEED RELATIONSHIP ADVICE OR FEEDBACK? Local Long-Term Relationship Expert Magnus Chase Offers His Aid.

He even lists office hours — an inoffensive parlor (meaning he can tolerate hanging out in it, and the door can close if people want privacy for their conversations) every other day for an hour, immediately following his Drosera hand-off to Galahad.

There's a massive old oak about fifty yards west of Magnus's favorite clearing. It has thick, sturdy branches; he can climb nearly forty feet up it before he starts to worry about them holding his weight. There's a family of squirrels that lives nearby -- good squirrels, nothing like Ratatosk -- and Magnus likes to listen to them discuss their acorn deposits. Sometimes, when they're not looking, he'll grow and stash more acorns for them to discover; he's not sure how long the winters here get.

He's pretty sure it's cold outside, but it's not cold enough to affect him, and so he's still barefoot and in a t-shirt pretty much all the time.

Today, he's been scrounging in some of the out-buildings. There's a portable outdoor fireplace. While he doesn't feel the cold, he finds (contained) fires comforting, and it'll be nice to have some hot food, so he shoulders it and a makeshift grill surface, and lugs them to the base of his oak tree. Now he'll have an easier way of preparing the fish Mothwing sometimes leaves him than trying to summon the right amount of summer into them so that they cook and don't explode, at least.

He lights a modest fire, feeding it with fallen sticks. Then he shoves an apple, picked from another nearby tree, into his mouth and a book he'd pilfered from the library into the waistband of his pants, and climbs up an easy ten feet to his favorite branch. Things don't seem so bad, living out here.

Magnus Chase is a fairly easygoing dude. Historically, he prefers to react to situations rather than to plot and plan ahead for future battles. He's pretty good at rolling with the punches, though he prefers to mediate a disagreement than jump into a fray, guns blazing (so to speak), given the opportunity.

But sometimes rage fills him, permeating every single cell in his body. He imagines that this must be what berserkers feel like during Battle Practice, as they furiously work their way through legions of einherjar like a warm knife through so much soft butter. Usually, the rage comes when one of his people has been hurt -- he can weather personal slights with fairly good humor, but hurt one of his friends and soon, you will be hurting even more.

The first person he sees, on this fateful morning, is Lancelot, from across the kitchen. Lancelot was kind of a dick to Magnus, so Magnus already doesn't like him (he can roll with the punches, but he will avoid you)... but Lancelot also has a split lip. And Magnus remembers his conversation with Galahad about Galahad's awful dad. His hands curl into fists, tight enough that his fingernails bite deep into the skin of his palms.

But Galahad wouldn't want Magnus to confront Lancelot. Magnus is certain of it. So he turns away without acknowledging Lancelot's presence at all and goes about his day, rage simmering but swallowed down in favor of seeking out something fun to do.

The second person he sees, heading inside to put Jack away after a round of practice, is a new woman. Susan. She seemed nice enough at first, if a little distant, but then she got weird and honestly kind of dickish with no provocation mid-conversation. This leaves Magnus unsettled, a little confused, lurching deeper into his bad mood.

And then... then he happens to spot Lan Wangji as he's crossing the Mansion's vast yard in search of his favorite clearing in the woods, so he can decompress and reconnect with nature, and his conversation with Shen Qingqiu comes flooding back. His rage perks up again, like an excitable dog ready to be let loose of its leash.

"Hanguang-jun," Magnus yells, striding after the god in question. "I really thought you were different from the others, but you aren't, are you? Like what the eff, my dude."