Fortuity [Mikkel & Sigrun]
Mar. 25th, 2016 11:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: Fortuity
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters: Mikkel & Sigrun, no pairing.
Rating: 0+/E for Everyone
Length: ~800 words
Summary: He's prepared to go in and get her. As luck would have it, he doesn't have to.
Other: Set during chapter 10, directly after page 498 (and probably soon to be jossed, oh well). Flashfic written in response to a request in the fanwork prompt thread over at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ssss. [Original Post]
Fortuity
The water's surface rippled, but nothing appeared. There it was, cold, dark, and unforgiving.
Mikkel readied himself. Told himself that this was the only way. He had to jump in. If he could distract it, then Sigrun could escape. And then it was all a matter of –
He didn't have time to finish his thought.
From his left came a sound. Noise. His heart jumped as he whirled around, his mind frozen at the thought that there might be something even worse than what waited for him below. He met with the sight of five bobble-headed trolls running, flames licking up their stilt-like legs as they stumbled and scattered toward the water. Then came a short burst of fire, catching on what parts of them were not already alight. Without hesitating, the trolls reached the edge and jumped into the water, each of them toppling ungracefully into it with a loud splap.
The surface rippled. A black shadow moved, slipping toward the round shapes bobbing on the water. Mikkel drew in a shaking breath and scanned the water for Sigrun, his eyes darting desperately as he searched for a white coat.
Footsteps. Emil ran up to him. "Where is she?" he gasped. Herding the trolls had left him red-faced and out of breath.
Mikkel gestured to the water, his insides twisting with helplessness. "She hasn't –"
A sound cut him off. It came to their right, a sharp metal creaking sound slicing through the dim light. They both looked to the remains of the old stairwell, staring.
One hand appeared. Then another. Then, with a huff, Sigrun hauled herself into view, soaking wet and trembling.
"Could I get some help over here?"
The words were hardly out of her mouth before Mikkel was in front of her, dipping his hands to haul her up. He pulled her into his arms, wrapped them around her shivering form, holding her against him, pressing his face against her damp hair. Later, he would admit to himself that it was, perhaps, more clinging than was strictly useful, given the circumstances.
A pat on his shoulder grounded him. "Hey, come on, big guy. We're not out of trouble yet. Let me go."
Reluctantly, Mikkel eased his hold on Sigrun, feeling foolish as he loosened the hold. But he didn't let go; he merely gave her room to lean against him more comfortably, keeping her steady as she turned to Emil.
"Go." She paused, coughed, drew in a shaking breath, then kept on as if nothing had happened, as if the way her teeth chattered wasn't obvious. "Head down the track. If you can see the tank, catch up to them. But if you can't see them, come back here, okay?"
Emil hesitated for a moment. By the wide-eyed look on his face, it looked as if there was a "but" on the top of his tongue. Then he nodded, fixing his expression, taking the fear and putting it away for the moment. "Right." Then he looked toward Mikkel.
When their eyes met, the look Mikkel saw on him was just as worried as he felt himself. Emil parted his lips, looked as if he would speak. But there was nothing more to say; nothing that would do any good about the situation. Instead, he shook his head, and turned to leave. In a second he was gone, rushing along the train tracks in the tank's path, moving as quickly as his feet could take him.
Please, Mikkel thought, let them be close. For a moment, he wished he might find comfort in the idea that some god might put in a hand to aid them. But there were no gods, and there would be no such luck.
There was nobody except him, and Sigrun, and the shadow in the water. For all he knew, it was finished with the distraction of the floating trolls, and had resumed watching them.
They couldn't stay.
Without a word, Mikkel moved. Dipped his hands and picked his captain up as if she were nothing.
"Mikkel, what the hell-"
"I believe that leaving would be to our advantage." Not far. Just enough. Just far enough to put space between them and the water. Far enough away that they could take a moment to get her out of that wet coat without the chance of something coming for them. Again.
Sigrun laughed. It was a weak sound, and the way her shoulders shook made her trembling even more obvious. "Not so mutinous after all, are you?"
"Not at all. That situation was a misunderstanding."
"Sure, sure."
As Mikkel made his way down the tracks with his shivering burden, the low rumbling of an engine surfaced in the night. He let out a long breath of relief, and picked up his pace, moving toward the sound and the light of the tank's headlamps, thankful that chance had allowed Emil to catch up to it.
Everything would work out. Somehow.
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters: Mikkel & Sigrun, no pairing.
Rating: 0+/E for Everyone
Length: ~800 words
Summary: He's prepared to go in and get her. As luck would have it, he doesn't have to.
Other: Set during chapter 10, directly after page 498 (and probably soon to be jossed, oh well). Flashfic written in response to a request in the fanwork prompt thread over at
ssss. [Original Post]Fortuity
The water's surface rippled, but nothing appeared. There it was, cold, dark, and unforgiving.
Mikkel readied himself. Told himself that this was the only way. He had to jump in. If he could distract it, then Sigrun could escape. And then it was all a matter of –
He didn't have time to finish his thought.
From his left came a sound. Noise. His heart jumped as he whirled around, his mind frozen at the thought that there might be something even worse than what waited for him below. He met with the sight of five bobble-headed trolls running, flames licking up their stilt-like legs as they stumbled and scattered toward the water. Then came a short burst of fire, catching on what parts of them were not already alight. Without hesitating, the trolls reached the edge and jumped into the water, each of them toppling ungracefully into it with a loud splap.
The surface rippled. A black shadow moved, slipping toward the round shapes bobbing on the water. Mikkel drew in a shaking breath and scanned the water for Sigrun, his eyes darting desperately as he searched for a white coat.
Footsteps. Emil ran up to him. "Where is she?" he gasped. Herding the trolls had left him red-faced and out of breath.
Mikkel gestured to the water, his insides twisting with helplessness. "She hasn't –"
A sound cut him off. It came to their right, a sharp metal creaking sound slicing through the dim light. They both looked to the remains of the old stairwell, staring.
One hand appeared. Then another. Then, with a huff, Sigrun hauled herself into view, soaking wet and trembling.
"Could I get some help over here?"
The words were hardly out of her mouth before Mikkel was in front of her, dipping his hands to haul her up. He pulled her into his arms, wrapped them around her shivering form, holding her against him, pressing his face against her damp hair. Later, he would admit to himself that it was, perhaps, more clinging than was strictly useful, given the circumstances.
A pat on his shoulder grounded him. "Hey, come on, big guy. We're not out of trouble yet. Let me go."
Reluctantly, Mikkel eased his hold on Sigrun, feeling foolish as he loosened the hold. But he didn't let go; he merely gave her room to lean against him more comfortably, keeping her steady as she turned to Emil.
"Go." She paused, coughed, drew in a shaking breath, then kept on as if nothing had happened, as if the way her teeth chattered wasn't obvious. "Head down the track. If you can see the tank, catch up to them. But if you can't see them, come back here, okay?"
Emil hesitated for a moment. By the wide-eyed look on his face, it looked as if there was a "but" on the top of his tongue. Then he nodded, fixing his expression, taking the fear and putting it away for the moment. "Right." Then he looked toward Mikkel.
When their eyes met, the look Mikkel saw on him was just as worried as he felt himself. Emil parted his lips, looked as if he would speak. But there was nothing more to say; nothing that would do any good about the situation. Instead, he shook his head, and turned to leave. In a second he was gone, rushing along the train tracks in the tank's path, moving as quickly as his feet could take him.
Please, Mikkel thought, let them be close. For a moment, he wished he might find comfort in the idea that some god might put in a hand to aid them. But there were no gods, and there would be no such luck.
There was nobody except him, and Sigrun, and the shadow in the water. For all he knew, it was finished with the distraction of the floating trolls, and had resumed watching them.
They couldn't stay.
Without a word, Mikkel moved. Dipped his hands and picked his captain up as if she were nothing.
"Mikkel, what the hell-"
"I believe that leaving would be to our advantage." Not far. Just enough. Just far enough to put space between them and the water. Far enough away that they could take a moment to get her out of that wet coat without the chance of something coming for them. Again.
Sigrun laughed. It was a weak sound, and the way her shoulders shook made her trembling even more obvious. "Not so mutinous after all, are you?"
"Not at all. That situation was a misunderstanding."
"Sure, sure."
As Mikkel made his way down the tracks with his shivering burden, the low rumbling of an engine surfaced in the night. He let out a long breath of relief, and picked up his pace, moving toward the sound and the light of the tank's headlamps, thankful that chance had allowed Emil to catch up to it.
Everything would work out. Somehow.
