Breaking Barriers

The einherji had just concluded yet another dinner-to-the-death in Valhalla, and Magnus was sitting on the couch in his suite, eyes staring at nothing while his mind swirled with thoughts. This was not the first time he'd made a quick getaway after dinner so he could think, especially in the weeks since they'd retrieved Thor's hammer and unwittingly freed Loki. Not to mention seen a certain child of his in a wedding dress.

Alex. Just thinking about the green-haired individual put a silly grin on Magnus's face, yet he struggled with feeling like he had to tiptoe around the shapeshifter; never quite knowing what question or comment would elicit a backlash. From the brief glimpses he'd gotten of Alex's life, it was no surprise that trust was an issue and guardedness a default. He didn't expect the child of Loki to tell him everything, but it would be really nice if Alex could see that Magnus had no ill intentions. He just wanted to be…closer.

Of course, Magnus reminded himself, they were already friends to an extent—you can only share so many near death experiences before becoming comrades by default—but he didn't particularly enjoy his frequent (and frankly very reasonable) fear of decapitation by clay-cutter.

An unexpected knock on his door made the son of Frey jump slightly, scattering his thoughts. As he walked over to open it Magnus really hoped it wasn't Samirah, or his buddies Hearth and Blitz. Not that he wouldn't love to see his best friends in all of the Nine Worlds; but he'd learned quickly that their visits tended to initiate urgent quests with high probabilities of permanent death rather than casual hanging out. And he really wasn't ready for another fiasco. Probably (as in hopefully) it was just T.J, Mallory, and Halfborn coming to drag him into another training session.

So it was with more than a little surprise that Magnus opened the door to find Fierro on the other side; leaning casually against the doorframe as if they hung out all the time rather than scarcely seen each other for weeks. The son of Frey tried not to gulp, his emotions careening annoyingly between being exceedingly pleased and exceedingly nervous as he looked at Alex. He—Magnus was almost positive the shape-shifter was male at the moment—sported his typical assortment of green and pink clothing, though today's combination wasn't quite as blinding as usual. Dark green pants, white button-down shirt, and pink and green sweater vest. And a smirk, Magnus Oblivious Chase realized belatedly as he looked properly into those heterochromatic eyes. He's smirking at me, how long have I been standing here staring? "Uh, hi?" He watched Alex roll his eyes slightly. "Hi yourself. Are you gonna invite me in or should I just keep standing here?"

Blushing, the son of Frey stepped to the side, stammering slightly. "Um, y-yeah. C-come in." Fierro waltzed right in, eyes crinkling with amusement. But when Magnus turned back around from closing the door—ridiculously slowly, trying to figure out what to say—he saw that Alex's amused demeanor was gone, and instead the shapeshifter was staring at the large tree in the living room with an unreadable expression. "You have a tree in your room too." Magnus made his way towards the tree as the child of Loki looked around the suite carefully. "Yes, I—" Wait a second. Magnus didn't even realize he was frowning slightly as a thought struck him. Is Alex a girl now?

"Yes Magnus, I'm a girl now, you can stop staring." His eyes widened as he spluttered, "I wasn't, I didn't mean—" before realizing that those heterochromatic eyes held no malice, though Fierro certainly wasn't smiling either, and had turned to look at the tree again. "So," she spoke quietly, "you've probably been wondering and wanting to know if the tree in my room is there for the same reasons yours is." The blond-haired einharji looked at her again, before realizing that was a bad idea with those faint freckles and dark eyelashes and—stop it Magnus. He sat down in front of the tree, gesturing for Alex to join him. "There are lots of things I want to know, but that doesn't necessarily mean I need to know them." The green-haired individual lowered herself to the floor slowly, looking at him curiously for a moment before gazing down at her hands, silent.

"I mean, we don't have to talk about the tree if you don't want to, you, uh, obviously had some other reason for coming here and we can just talk about whatever that is." Inwardly cursing his speaking abilities, Magnus continued hurriedly. "Not that I mind you stopping by! I just—figured you had something specific to say or, or ask or something, since it's not like you drop by my room all the time and we've barely talked since, well…" Magnus trailed off, figuring that silence was probably a wiser course of action at this point. But when he glanced over at his companion she was smiling faintly, though her gaze seemed far away and was still directed at the tree. "It's alright Magnus."

The silence stretched around them as Alex focused on the tree as if it were the only other thing in the room; and after a few minutes the son of Frey started fidgeting slightly, unsure of what to do. Alex had never come to him before like this. Just as he made up his mind and opened his mouth to speak the child of Loki beat him to it. "In my prior life, I felt the closest to being comfortable when I was outdoors, in the wilderness." Slim fingers began playing with the garrote attached to her belt, seemingly unconsciously. "It was freedom." Magnus held his breath; afraid even the smallest sound might snap Alex back into her shell. But the green-and-black-haired individual went quiet, leaving the blond youth feeling like he'd missed the punch line. As he looked again at those fingers weaving in and out of the garrote, he remembered when they were in the giant's forest talking and Fierro had shut down, the clay-cutter hanging between them like a threat.

Shaking his head slightly, Magnus took a breath. "Alex." When had his mouth gotten so dry? She turned to glance carefully at him, dual-colored eyes effortlessly capturing his azure ones. "I—I don't claim to understand what you've been through in your life, and I'm not asking you to tell me things if you don't want to." He held her gaze, trying to read her emotions in case he needed to duck really quickly. "I just—it would be nice if—that is, I care about you, and it'd be nice if I could talk to you without constantly being afraid of—of getting my head lopped off." There, he'd said it.

He let his breath out when Alex looked away with a thoughtful expression, almost as if she was searching for the right words; which Magnus found to be a strange idea, since the child of Loki was normally so linguistically decisive if not outright sarcastic. "I don't really know how to be friends with someone." Her voice was so quiet the son of Frey almost missed it. "Not completely. I—well, you saw some of my memories. I didn't exactly have any caring relationships as a little kid. My own parents hated and were embarrassed by me." Her face twisted into a scowl that bordered on a leopard's snarl, before softening slightly; those unearthly beautiful features strained by sadness from a lifetime of fear and anger. Alex spoke again. "The only people that you could say I was friends with were the folks at the pottery studio, the group I went on camping trips with—hence the tree. But they're mortals," she said bitterly, "I could never be completely honest about who I was, what I am, or they'd think I was insane." As the shapeshifter lifted a hand to run through green hair Magnus's eyebrows raised briefly. Alex is a guy again, isn't he? I've never seen him change this many times in a day, let alone one evening. "And of course by that point, between my gender situation and my parenthood I was used to being a loner," he whispered.

Magnus felt his heart clench, he desperately wanted to reach over and take the son of Loki's hand, reach into his past and fix everything. In the two years since her death he'd missed his mother terribly and would have given anything to see her again, but at least she'd loved him.

His thoughts screeched to a halt as Fierro got up suddenly and walked over to the shelf with the framed photos of Magnus and his family members. There were ones of his aunts and uncles—including, unfortunately, that bastard Randolph—his cousin Annabeth, and of course his mom. He watched as Alex examined the images carefully, remembering suddenly that the one time he'd been inside his room he hadn't seen a single photograph. None. Standing slowly, he made his way over to the motionless figure clad in green and pink.

"You don't have any photos, do you?" The blue-eyed youth bit his lip as Alex shook his head slightly. "But why? I mean, it's not like you died hundreds of years ago, before they invented photographs." Fierro gave a short, derisive laugh. "The only pictures you get from your past life are ones of people you loved Magnus. People you trusted." Oh. Alex turned to look at him, his expression fierce and almost mocking. "Not going to say, 'wasn't there anyone you trusted in your past life?' or 'well Alex, I hope you know that you can trust us now'?" Magnus flinched at the defensiveness, the accusatory tone. Of course he wanted the shapeshifter to feel capable of trusting him—and the Floor 19 people!—not just in combat but with who he/she was. "I figured it would be safer to not say anything."

Alex let out a frustrated sigh, bringing a hand to his face before walking over and plopping down on the couch, legs bent against the backrest. After a moment of indecision Magnus joined him, trying not to look as tense as he felt. "I'm sorry Magnus, I—I know you're not like that. I just…" Said youth sat beside him, frowning. "So why treat me like I am?" He watched as Alex winced slightly before continuing to speak. "I know that you're trying to reach out and be here for me—seemingly with good intentions—it's just such a foreign concept for me. I've got a whole lifetime of being on the defensive; pushing people away, even if…even if they were really nice and I didn't want to, before they could hurt me. It became easier to be abrasive and unfriendly. Not show any emotions that could be seen as soft. Malleable. Weak. You know I've been tormented before, and so I've always been on alert, in protective mode." Magnus just sat and listened, wondering dimly how the dam had cracked open and allowed Fierro to speak more tonight than he'd ever heard. The green-and-black-haired individual's comment had stung, absolutely, but the raw pain was so evident in Alex's voice he couldn't help but hear him out.

"I don't mean to snap at people, especially you, so much. I'm used to only ever relying on myself, and being afraid." Not for the first time Magnus thought there were some remarkable similarities between Alex and Samirah—the other child of Loki—and how, unfortunately, those commonalities often rubbed the wrong way on each other rather than making them better friends.

"But now," the change in the shapeshifter's tone got Magnus's full attention as Alex gave a slightly strangled and incredulously wondering laugh, "You, with your questions and wanting to help, you've been making me feel a different kind of fear. I want to trust you Magnus, and that's—that's frightening for me. To even consider being open and…and close to someone, it's, well…"

Silence enveloped them as Alex went mute, and for the second (or was it the third? Fourth?) time that evening Magnus really wished he was better with words. Helheim, he wished he was better at actually knowing when and when not to open his mouth! Tilting his head back against the couch, he watched the slight fluttering of the leaves above them, running through one scenario of a reply after another. Time stretched on until a faint sigh reached his ears, glancing over he was surprised to see that Alex was zonked; fingers relaxed, chest rising and falling rhythmically. Smiling, the blond youth rose quietly and grabbed a spare blanket, covering Alex as gently as possible—for numerous reasons. The son of Loki's face was more peaceful than Magnus had ever seen it; and as he gazed at the sleeping figure for a moment before going to his own bed, he really hoped that the flamboyant individual could take the leap.

The next morning Magnus found his living room empty, the blanket from last night folded neatly on the arm of the couch. Trying, and failing miserably, to convince himself that he wasn't disappointed by the child of Loki's absence, Magnus went through the motions of getting ready for breakfast, only to halt when he opened his front door. A small package of carefully tied cloth sat right at the entryway, with a note on top. The son of Frey smirked as he picked it up and made out the scrawl. 'Anyone besides Magnus who touches this will be ripped to shreds'. Even though Alex was the child of the trickster god, curiosity won out over caution, and the young einharji opened the package.

A leather necklace spilled out, strung with three clay beads bearing tiny runes. Fehu—the rune of Frey, the Ursne snakes—Fierro's chosen symbol, and the bead in the middle…For the first time, Magnus was glad his friends had talked (i.e. forced) him to take a rune class, so he could actually read them now. Marked in black on pale brown was 'Friends' and 'Gratitude'. Slipping the necklace over his head, the son of Frey strode towards the dining hall, an enormous smile on his face.