Autumn Leaves [Hannu/Paju]
Jul. 3rd, 2016 09:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: Autumn Leaves
Fandom: A Redtail's Dream [+ SSSS mashup]
Characters/Pairing: Hannu/Paju (and Ville is there too)
Rating: E for Everyone
Length: 2.2k
Summary: I will keep the colour of your eyes when the world no longer knows your name. He keeps coming back to her dream to reinforce its protections, no matter what tries to keep him away, no matter how much it hurts.
Other: Something self-indulgent from my aRTD + SSSS mashup universe, in which the characters from aRTD live through SSSS's apocalypse, and after an early death, Hannu and Ville are allowed to continue to exist in the dreamworld as protective spirits, rather than sleeping forever in Tuonela.
Fills prompt #2, "Love", in the 100-prompt challenge.
Autumn Leaves
There are places you can't go back to. Everyone knows that, knows it's impossible to turn things back to what they were before, what you had before it was all lost.
There are other places. Places that you shouldn't go back to, but you keep returning to anyway. Places that ache like an open wound. Places that are like a gap in the mouth. A lost tooth. Your tongue just keeps finding it, searching for that hollow.
Hannu eyed up the dream. Took a look at it. He stood outside its shields, on the rocks beneath the unreal starry sky he'd spent too much time wandering under, and looked it over once, twice, three times.
Beside him, Ville shifted from one foot to the other, glancing around apprehensively, wide-eyed. "I thought you said that we shouldn't come back here," he said softly.
"I changed my mind."
That's how it always is. You hold on to things. Keep circling around, and no matter what, you keep finding the wound.
Even if you shouldn't.
Even if you know that it's best to leave well enough alone, that it won't heal if you keep picking at it.
Even if someone chased you off last time.
The dream had the thickest shields that he had ever seen on someone who wasn't a mage, and he knew damn well why. On top of its natural protections, a layer of external shields had been wrapped around it, cozying up the sleeper in a cocoon of spells. Hannu stepped closer and pressed his fingers against it. The top layer thrummed under his touch, vibrating like kantele strings. He knew who'd put that one on. The words echoed in his mind: "You're dead. You're dead. Get away from my sister!"
There was more to it than that. Hannu had tried to explain it, had tried to tell him. It's complicated. There's dead, and then there's dead, and there's a difference. He burst with words, practically screamed it at him. But Tuomi refused to hear it, and kept frantically flinging improvised spells at them, and in the end Hannu and Ville had decided that it was best to leave. Stay away. At least for a while.
Hannu rolled his eyes and pressed through, carefully opening a way, sliding his hands between the notes as if they were air, parting the barrier with only a touch. Beneath that spell, he found another, and that was handiwork that he didn't recognize. It was thin, and inexpertly-cast, but neat and orderly, like an earnest beginner's attempt at knitting. He ran his fingers over the weave and frowned. It felt familiar, somehow. The construction was like something he might have done once, like the spells he had put down in the early days, when he wasn't confident, wasn't sure of himself. But it wasn't his work. And this one wasn't sloppy like his early efforts. Whoever'd cast this had been taught by someone.
As the spellwork hummed softly under his hands, the truth crept up on him. Paju's – his – their daughter. So, Hannu thought, brushing his fingertips along the thin layer of magic as if it would shatter under his touch. She's old enough to learn magic now.
"Look, Hannu, we don't have to do this -"
Ville's voice interrupted him, brought him out, like being dunked in a pool of icy water. Hannu sucked in a breath and shook his head. "I know," he said, glancing back at him. "But I'm doing it."
The hand on his shoulder wasn't as reassuring as he wished it was, hardly as much as Ville obviously wanted it to be. Hannu met his eyes, saw the concern in them. Thought about explaining himself, then decided against it, because he had a feeling that even if he didn't say anything, Ville understood it all, anyway. So Hannu looked ahead, steeled himself, and slipped through the layers of spells.
It hadn't been easy when he was alive. Getting through, slipping past those natural shields without permission was almost impossible. It was easier if the dream belonged to a mage, if they were conscious, and you could just ask. Different altogether if it was a case like this one. But there were ways. If they opened themselves to you, there were ways.
That hadn't been a problem in years. It was different now. He was different now. Hannu slipped past the spells, gently pushed them aside as if they were curtains, letting them fall back into place as he stepped through. Even if the sleeper had been someone else, it would have come naturally, but with this one, it was as easy as stepping through shallow water.
She had always been open to him.
When they stood on the edge of her space, he turned to Ville. "Wait here, okay?"
He didn't need to explain. His friend's eyes flickered for a moment, as if he thought about objecting, but he didn't. Instead, Ville nodded. "I'll keep an eye out. We have lots of time, anyway. ...I think."
"I won't be long."
"Okay."
Best not to hesitate. The coast was clear, but taking more time than they needed would be a bad idea. They both knew that. Someone could show up, like last time. So, Hannu didn't wait. There was something they both needed to do, something they had to take on together. But first, there was something else he had come for.
It'll just take a minute, Hannu told himself.
If only it was so simple.
Hannu took a deep breath, then stepped into Paju's dream.
It hit him like a sledgehammer. That forest smell sinking into him, thick and bright and alive, trees and leaves and damp wood and loam. Cool breeze touching his face, practically stroking it, carrying with it the barest scent of bright water, the taste of wind coming off the lake. Dappled sunlight dropping through the trees, scattering gold over the forest floor.
He closed his eyes and listened to the hush of the wind rustling the leaves. Tasted the air, breathing in the scent of the earth. It was as real as anything like this could possibly be, and that was because it wasn't real at all. It was just a dream. Just the buildup of memories wrapped around a sleeper. But it felt real, as real as his old life, and it sank down into him like thorns. It ached.
The path through the trees was familiar, a good imitation of one that had existed once, just outside of Hokanniemi, before their lives changed. Hannu fell into step along it, walking slowly, trying not to listen too closely to the way the forest sounded and felt under his feet. The way dried leaves crushed under his feet and twigs crackled with his step felt too real.
It was hard to ignore it.
Soon, the path led to a clearing, and the trees gave way to thick fresh grasses and soft flowers. Hannu stopped, and let his gaze sweep into it slowly, slowly.
There she was, laid out as if she had flopped down for a rest, as if she'd just stretched out to read and fallen asleep halfway through. All she would have needed to make it look just like that was a book loosely grasped between her fingers. But she hadn't gone to sleep there, not exactly, and this was not their home - their real home, not the place they had come to live after everything - and, Hannu thought, Paju had never really been the type to doze off outdoors anyway.
His footfalls were silent as he stepped toward her. When he reached her, he hesitated, then sank down onto the grass. Stretched out beside her. Closed his eyes. Listened to her breathing.
Even if the dream smelled like home, no amount of pretending could change the fact that it wasn't.
They had never been able to have this.
Hannu cracked open his eyes and looked at her. Watched her in her quiet, in her sleep. She looked as if she might wake up at any moment. In the early days, the first few times he had found her like this in her dream, he'd tried to wake her up, thinking that maybe she just needed a nudge. He called her name, watched the way her face shifted slightly, as if she'd heard him in her sleep. Shook her shoulders. Touched her cheeks. It didn't do any good back then, and after a while he had given up on it. No matter what he did, she wouldn't wake up, and when he asked her about it in the morning, in the few moments of quiet they had together before rising from their makeshift bed, she rolled her eyes and acted as if he was crazy.
"Stop it," she muttered whenever he brought it up, rolling over, turning away from him. "You're just having weird dreams again."
By the time both of them understood exactly what those weird dreams were, there was no point in asking her about it again.
She wouldn't wake up.
"Paju?" Hannu said softly. As he watched, her lips tightened slightly, as if she had heard him in her sleep and was annoyed with him for interrupting it. He shifted closer, wanting to be close. Just close enough. "....It's me."
She looked like she might wake up at any moment.
He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, gently tucking it behind her ear. The last time he had come to see her, there had been a few streaks of white running through her hair. Now, there were more. Lines edged the corners of her eyes, her lips.
How long had it been since he'd last seen the colour of her eyes? Hannu tried to think. How many years? He'd lost count. He'd tried to keep track, once, but couldn't. The dreamworld was timeless. But even if he couldn't see her, couldn't hear her voice, wouldn't ever hear her order him around again, he wouldn't forget it. Any of it.
A breeze rustled the treetops. Light, gentle, as if it was acknowledging his voice. It moved them in a soft hush, dipped lower to stir the leaves on the ground. It shifted his hair, grazed coolly over his cheek like a kiss. Is this you? Hannu wondered. Do you know I'm here? The questions were on the tip of his tongue. He decided to hold them back. She wouldn't answer, so there was no point in pretending she might hear it.
They didn't have much time. It was hard to judge when she might wake. Or some force outside of Paju's dream could appear, call them away. Or something could force them out, like last time. Too many possibilities. I've probably stayed here longer than I should have, Hannu thought.
It was stupid. He knew it. He should have left completely, should never have come inside of her dream to begin with. Seeing her only made the feeling of absence that much worse, deepened the aching hollow inside of him, reminded him of everything he'd lost.
Hannu stayed as long as he dared to, listening to the gentle hush of her remembered forest and the sound of her breathing. Finally, he couldn't stand it any more. He stood and left her, not looking down at her sleeping form, because he knew that if he did, he would stop and stay even longer.
He couldn't. He had work to do.
And it would just make things worse, anyway.
Ville met him at the edge of her forest, his wide eyes alert and nervous. "You were gone a long time," he said, taking a step toward him. "I was starting to get worried."
"It's fine," Hannu said. It wasn't. They both knew that it wasn't. But they could pretend. Turning slightly, he looked back down the path. At the end, he could see where the trees parted, where they opened into that clearing.
A breeze brushed past him, stroking at his hair. Hannu bit his lip. Stop, he told himself. Don't think about that. You have a job to do. "Come on," he said as he turned back to Ville, offering his hand. "Let's get this over with."
They clasped hands together, fingers slipping into finger-gaps, fitting against one another perfectly.
Ville looked at him, waiting for his signal. Hannu breathed. Reached into himself, ignoring the scent of the forest, ignoring the breezes and their cool touch on his cheek. Grounded himself. Then he nodded, and opened his mouth and sang.
The song rose, the spell formed. It skittered across his teeth, unfroze in his mouth. Hannu caught the words and wove them, built them up, set them over and under Ville's words, mixed with his magic as Ville's voice joined his in song.
The wound ached, that hollow empty socket throbbed, but the emptiness just made Hannu sing all the louder, cast his spells tighter, build the sleeper's shields stronger.
His eyes stung, damp pricking the corners.
He ignored it. It didn't matter.
As long as his magic could reach its way up, twine protectively around her mind like brambles, it wouldn't ever matter.
End.
Fandom: A Redtail's Dream [+ SSSS mashup]
Characters/Pairing: Hannu/Paju (and Ville is there too)
Rating: E for Everyone
Length: 2.2k
Summary: I will keep the colour of your eyes when the world no longer knows your name. He keeps coming back to her dream to reinforce its protections, no matter what tries to keep him away, no matter how much it hurts.
Other: Something self-indulgent from my aRTD + SSSS mashup universe, in which the characters from aRTD live through SSSS's apocalypse, and after an early death, Hannu and Ville are allowed to continue to exist in the dreamworld as protective spirits, rather than sleeping forever in Tuonela.
Fills prompt #2, "Love", in the 100-prompt challenge.
Autumn Leaves
There are places you can't go back to. Everyone knows that, knows it's impossible to turn things back to what they were before, what you had before it was all lost.
There are other places. Places that you shouldn't go back to, but you keep returning to anyway. Places that ache like an open wound. Places that are like a gap in the mouth. A lost tooth. Your tongue just keeps finding it, searching for that hollow.
Hannu eyed up the dream. Took a look at it. He stood outside its shields, on the rocks beneath the unreal starry sky he'd spent too much time wandering under, and looked it over once, twice, three times.
Beside him, Ville shifted from one foot to the other, glancing around apprehensively, wide-eyed. "I thought you said that we shouldn't come back here," he said softly.
"I changed my mind."
That's how it always is. You hold on to things. Keep circling around, and no matter what, you keep finding the wound.
Even if you shouldn't.
Even if you know that it's best to leave well enough alone, that it won't heal if you keep picking at it.
Even if someone chased you off last time.
The dream had the thickest shields that he had ever seen on someone who wasn't a mage, and he knew damn well why. On top of its natural protections, a layer of external shields had been wrapped around it, cozying up the sleeper in a cocoon of spells. Hannu stepped closer and pressed his fingers against it. The top layer thrummed under his touch, vibrating like kantele strings. He knew who'd put that one on. The words echoed in his mind: "You're dead. You're dead. Get away from my sister!"
There was more to it than that. Hannu had tried to explain it, had tried to tell him. It's complicated. There's dead, and then there's dead, and there's a difference. He burst with words, practically screamed it at him. But Tuomi refused to hear it, and kept frantically flinging improvised spells at them, and in the end Hannu and Ville had decided that it was best to leave. Stay away. At least for a while.
Hannu rolled his eyes and pressed through, carefully opening a way, sliding his hands between the notes as if they were air, parting the barrier with only a touch. Beneath that spell, he found another, and that was handiwork that he didn't recognize. It was thin, and inexpertly-cast, but neat and orderly, like an earnest beginner's attempt at knitting. He ran his fingers over the weave and frowned. It felt familiar, somehow. The construction was like something he might have done once, like the spells he had put down in the early days, when he wasn't confident, wasn't sure of himself. But it wasn't his work. And this one wasn't sloppy like his early efforts. Whoever'd cast this had been taught by someone.
As the spellwork hummed softly under his hands, the truth crept up on him. Paju's – his – their daughter. So, Hannu thought, brushing his fingertips along the thin layer of magic as if it would shatter under his touch. She's old enough to learn magic now.
"Look, Hannu, we don't have to do this -"
Ville's voice interrupted him, brought him out, like being dunked in a pool of icy water. Hannu sucked in a breath and shook his head. "I know," he said, glancing back at him. "But I'm doing it."
The hand on his shoulder wasn't as reassuring as he wished it was, hardly as much as Ville obviously wanted it to be. Hannu met his eyes, saw the concern in them. Thought about explaining himself, then decided against it, because he had a feeling that even if he didn't say anything, Ville understood it all, anyway. So Hannu looked ahead, steeled himself, and slipped through the layers of spells.
It hadn't been easy when he was alive. Getting through, slipping past those natural shields without permission was almost impossible. It was easier if the dream belonged to a mage, if they were conscious, and you could just ask. Different altogether if it was a case like this one. But there were ways. If they opened themselves to you, there were ways.
That hadn't been a problem in years. It was different now. He was different now. Hannu slipped past the spells, gently pushed them aside as if they were curtains, letting them fall back into place as he stepped through. Even if the sleeper had been someone else, it would have come naturally, but with this one, it was as easy as stepping through shallow water.
She had always been open to him.
When they stood on the edge of her space, he turned to Ville. "Wait here, okay?"
He didn't need to explain. His friend's eyes flickered for a moment, as if he thought about objecting, but he didn't. Instead, Ville nodded. "I'll keep an eye out. We have lots of time, anyway. ...I think."
"I won't be long."
"Okay."
Best not to hesitate. The coast was clear, but taking more time than they needed would be a bad idea. They both knew that. Someone could show up, like last time. So, Hannu didn't wait. There was something they both needed to do, something they had to take on together. But first, there was something else he had come for.
It'll just take a minute, Hannu told himself.
If only it was so simple.
Hannu took a deep breath, then stepped into Paju's dream.
It hit him like a sledgehammer. That forest smell sinking into him, thick and bright and alive, trees and leaves and damp wood and loam. Cool breeze touching his face, practically stroking it, carrying with it the barest scent of bright water, the taste of wind coming off the lake. Dappled sunlight dropping through the trees, scattering gold over the forest floor.
He closed his eyes and listened to the hush of the wind rustling the leaves. Tasted the air, breathing in the scent of the earth. It was as real as anything like this could possibly be, and that was because it wasn't real at all. It was just a dream. Just the buildup of memories wrapped around a sleeper. But it felt real, as real as his old life, and it sank down into him like thorns. It ached.
The path through the trees was familiar, a good imitation of one that had existed once, just outside of Hokanniemi, before their lives changed. Hannu fell into step along it, walking slowly, trying not to listen too closely to the way the forest sounded and felt under his feet. The way dried leaves crushed under his feet and twigs crackled with his step felt too real.
It was hard to ignore it.
Soon, the path led to a clearing, and the trees gave way to thick fresh grasses and soft flowers. Hannu stopped, and let his gaze sweep into it slowly, slowly.
There she was, laid out as if she had flopped down for a rest, as if she'd just stretched out to read and fallen asleep halfway through. All she would have needed to make it look just like that was a book loosely grasped between her fingers. But she hadn't gone to sleep there, not exactly, and this was not their home - their real home, not the place they had come to live after everything - and, Hannu thought, Paju had never really been the type to doze off outdoors anyway.
His footfalls were silent as he stepped toward her. When he reached her, he hesitated, then sank down onto the grass. Stretched out beside her. Closed his eyes. Listened to her breathing.
Even if the dream smelled like home, no amount of pretending could change the fact that it wasn't.
They had never been able to have this.
Hannu cracked open his eyes and looked at her. Watched her in her quiet, in her sleep. She looked as if she might wake up at any moment. In the early days, the first few times he had found her like this in her dream, he'd tried to wake her up, thinking that maybe she just needed a nudge. He called her name, watched the way her face shifted slightly, as if she'd heard him in her sleep. Shook her shoulders. Touched her cheeks. It didn't do any good back then, and after a while he had given up on it. No matter what he did, she wouldn't wake up, and when he asked her about it in the morning, in the few moments of quiet they had together before rising from their makeshift bed, she rolled her eyes and acted as if he was crazy.
"Stop it," she muttered whenever he brought it up, rolling over, turning away from him. "You're just having weird dreams again."
By the time both of them understood exactly what those weird dreams were, there was no point in asking her about it again.
She wouldn't wake up.
"Paju?" Hannu said softly. As he watched, her lips tightened slightly, as if she had heard him in her sleep and was annoyed with him for interrupting it. He shifted closer, wanting to be close. Just close enough. "....It's me."
She looked like she might wake up at any moment.
He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, gently tucking it behind her ear. The last time he had come to see her, there had been a few streaks of white running through her hair. Now, there were more. Lines edged the corners of her eyes, her lips.
How long had it been since he'd last seen the colour of her eyes? Hannu tried to think. How many years? He'd lost count. He'd tried to keep track, once, but couldn't. The dreamworld was timeless. But even if he couldn't see her, couldn't hear her voice, wouldn't ever hear her order him around again, he wouldn't forget it. Any of it.
A breeze rustled the treetops. Light, gentle, as if it was acknowledging his voice. It moved them in a soft hush, dipped lower to stir the leaves on the ground. It shifted his hair, grazed coolly over his cheek like a kiss. Is this you? Hannu wondered. Do you know I'm here? The questions were on the tip of his tongue. He decided to hold them back. She wouldn't answer, so there was no point in pretending she might hear it.
They didn't have much time. It was hard to judge when she might wake. Or some force outside of Paju's dream could appear, call them away. Or something could force them out, like last time. Too many possibilities. I've probably stayed here longer than I should have, Hannu thought.
It was stupid. He knew it. He should have left completely, should never have come inside of her dream to begin with. Seeing her only made the feeling of absence that much worse, deepened the aching hollow inside of him, reminded him of everything he'd lost.
Hannu stayed as long as he dared to, listening to the gentle hush of her remembered forest and the sound of her breathing. Finally, he couldn't stand it any more. He stood and left her, not looking down at her sleeping form, because he knew that if he did, he would stop and stay even longer.
He couldn't. He had work to do.
And it would just make things worse, anyway.
Ville met him at the edge of her forest, his wide eyes alert and nervous. "You were gone a long time," he said, taking a step toward him. "I was starting to get worried."
"It's fine," Hannu said. It wasn't. They both knew that it wasn't. But they could pretend. Turning slightly, he looked back down the path. At the end, he could see where the trees parted, where they opened into that clearing.
A breeze brushed past him, stroking at his hair. Hannu bit his lip. Stop, he told himself. Don't think about that. You have a job to do. "Come on," he said as he turned back to Ville, offering his hand. "Let's get this over with."
They clasped hands together, fingers slipping into finger-gaps, fitting against one another perfectly.
Ville looked at him, waiting for his signal. Hannu breathed. Reached into himself, ignoring the scent of the forest, ignoring the breezes and their cool touch on his cheek. Grounded himself. Then he nodded, and opened his mouth and sang.
The song rose, the spell formed. It skittered across his teeth, unfroze in his mouth. Hannu caught the words and wove them, built them up, set them over and under Ville's words, mixed with his magic as Ville's voice joined his in song.
The wound ached, that hollow empty socket throbbed, but the emptiness just made Hannu sing all the louder, cast his spells tighter, build the sleeper's shields stronger.
His eyes stung, damp pricking the corners.
He ignored it. It didn't matter.
As long as his magic could reach its way up, twine protectively around her mind like brambles, it wouldn't ever matter.
End.
