— glory in triumph

“You can leave,” she said in a haughty tone, but she didn’t really mean it, she wanted him to stay here, begging for her forgiveness a little while longer, “and deal with your bad luck alone.” but it felt so good to dismiss him.

He gave a little internal sigh before dipping his head and taking a few steps back. “If that’s what you wish.” Gunnarr wasn’t wanting her angry with him forever. But the smallest of smirks graced his lips in a little tease before he also said, “I won’t be alone. After all— you’ll share in the bad luck as well. There were two of use underneath the mistletoe.”

Lucinda tore her eyes away from Roland and raised her eyebrows. It was hard not to tease him, “My people believe that if you sneeze you’ll become possessed, that doesn’t mean I do.” She chuckled, “Isn’t the bad luck meeting me under the mistletoe? How do you know kissing me won’t make it worse?” She smirked, “Or couldn’t you find some other unsuspecting young woman and kiss her to undo whatever bad luck you caught by not kissing me?” She rolled her eyes, “If I was still trying to capture your attention I’d dare you to prove you weren’t ignoring me by kissing me or something equally stupid.” She turned away from him, looking out at everyone else. “But honestly, I’ve bigger things to care about now.” She turned back to look him up and down, “Hard as that may be to believe” 

He wasn’t exactly sure who she was watching, but she certainly seemed rather interested in whoever it was.”Well we all have our own attitudes towards superstitions.” Was she just going to begin being condescending once again? Perhaps she was teasing but— it was something he took rather seriously. “What do you mean? No- it’s bad luck not to kiss underneath the mistletoe,” he clarified. He shrugged before saying, “I’d probably take it. I don’t usually turn down dares, and I’m not fond of bad luck.” It was difficult, being caught between his wish to not kiss her and not have bad luck.  

“Hmm,” a more rational person would perhaps listen to his words and let themselves be won over by his earnest expression, only a fool would hold a grudge over something like this. “you are already having bad luck,” and a fool she is, “I wish you the best of luck in dealing with that.”

“So there’s nothing I can do, then?” he said with his little smile, trying to remember how he’d played the role of innocent when he was little. He hadn’t needed to do it for quite some time since his village rather...adored him. “Hopefully those two lucks might cancel each other out.” Gunnarr had amused himself with the words.

“Oh, sorry.” She said when he mentioned she’d spoken of her mother before. She wasn’t sure why she was apologizing, just that that seemed to be the only appropriate response. “That must be nice.” She mumbled, her mind going to Roland who was having a very loud fight with someone else in the center of the room. He was defending his other sister. The one he actually loved. She noticed a little reluctance, “Do you really believe in that superstition?” It was the only possible explanation for wanting to kiss her. She snorted, “You are ignoring me–I don’t blame you, but you are.” 

He wasn’t sure why she was apologizing either, but he simply let the moment pass. “I suppose it had something to do with us being twins,” he said with a little shrug, fondness still in his voice. It was nice. “Well it’s my people’s superstition so...yes.” He didn’t want to seem like he was pushing things, though. Especially since there was a rather large part of him that was simply willing to take the bad luck over what the mistletoe wanted them to do. Then he frowned defensively with crossed arms. “I talk to you if the occasion calls for it. That’s not ignoring you. If I was intent on ignoring you I wouldn’t be talking to you even now.” He simply hadn’t gone out of his way to speak with her. Why would he?

Freddy couldn’t help smirking at him, “I’m wrong quite a bit, but not about that,” she could admit that fault. She was always getting in over her head, always doing the wrong thing over the better option, but she’d never shied from anything. He kept moving around, and it was annoying, he was too strong for that, but she could keep up. Even still there was a pert smile on her face because this was fun, this was comfortable– a blade in hand and an opponent, something to overcome. Something familiar in Hogwarts where she felt woefully out of place quite often. She false lunged with her blade, hoping to catch him off his step, and her knife was still a warm happy weight in her hand. “You’re quirk aren’t ya, most people might not think that cause you’re built like a wall.”

He snorted a little in amusement, all the while keeping an eye on her as he mirrored her moves. Gunnarr was still being sure to try and not let her get too close. He gave his sword a couple of little and small twirls, as if eager for her to make another advance. He got his wish when she lunged once more, and this one she’d timed well. Gunnarr almost didn’t manage to skip away this time, and the knife tore into his shirt, though there was no blood yet. “Now what am I going to do? This was my favorite shirt,” he joked. This was why he usually didn’t even wear shirts when he sparred. Good clothes got ruined. “If I was just big and slow I’d probably be dead already,” he said with a grin before jutting his sword towards her in the middle of his words to hopefully surprise her. following his first move with another quick one to follow.

Lucinda ran her fingers through her hair and tried to focus on the conversation and not the growing list of her anxieties. “I suppose. Melanie–er, my mother–she hates the cold too. She’s in Paris right now, actually, she’s probably more south, sitting on a beach somewhere.” The longing seeped into her voice, but whether it was for the company of her mother or the warmer climate, even Lucinda didn’t know. “Hufflepuff? That’s surprising, the two of you must be very different.” It was a flat observation, she made only because she knew he was in Slytherin. She looked up at the plant and chuckled, “Honestly, I was just trying to avoid…everyone. I didn’t realize this was here, and I would prefer if we don’t adhere to the superstition. You’re perfectly nice but I’ve embarrassed myself enough in front of you. I’d rather we both just go back to pretending that I don’t exist.” Perhaps candor would be the most effective technique. 

Gunnarr nodded in response, not particularly having much to say on the subject of her mother besides, “Yes, I remember you talking about her before.” Before they’d gone on to have their little disagreement. He could relate to longing for a mother, though. But he’d tried to stop doing that when it had become clear his wasn’t coming back. He did give a little chuckle at her comment of Sigfrid, “Somewhat, and yet— we’re still two sides of the same coin. We still match.” He gave a little sigh and rubbed the back of his neck, already dreading the line of bad luck it seemed he would be getting after tonight. “If that’s what you wish,” he said with a little shrug. To be fair I wasn’t ignoring you, though.”

Landing on the ground, Bri could only see one last chance of surprising him. She launched herself in the air towards him, turning into a lynx midair and knocking him down with the powerful pounce. Her tail swished playfully, not above cheating to win a playful match. Especially since she had no other way to win. 

Rosie had always been someone who knew her fears. She could look at herself and know what could make her crumble, yet she had never seen this coming. She had never seen Cora leaving her or Salazar hating her. “Cora, she left with him,” She croaked out. Had she been more aware of herself, she would have never let him brush away her tears, he wouldn’t have even seen them, but she let him this time.

“Cora?” he echoed in confusion. “I just saw her having breakfast in the Great Hall. She didn’t look like she was going anywhere. Left with who?” Tired of crouching, he sat himself on the floor in front of her, apparently willing to stay there for who knew how long. Once he was satisfied with clearing her tears, his hand rested on her cheek, a slow and soothing thumb going over it. His brow was furrowed in worry as he looked over her.

“Yes, a warning we can lead our lives without caring about luck or common decency.” raising her chin, she glared up at him, annoyed at his display. Didn’t he understand she was angry here? Could he stop smiling like nothing was wrong?  Maybe she should hunt for Evie and discuss enacting some sort of revenge on him, nothing too big, but she wants to have the pleasure of laughing in his face. “Anything else?”

Ahh, perhaps she was more upset than he’d thought. But he still wasn’t particularly sure how to fix it. “I’m truly sorry for the interruption we faced. But how is it that I might make it up to you?” He appeared as earnest as could be. “I’m just really not looking forward to the bad luck I’ll have.” Apparently, those words were actually quite truthful, as he grimaced a little with them. 

Bri rolled to her feet, also in the ready position. “It sounds like you’ve had to learn that lesson. Was it hard to learn? I wouldn’t know.” She spun around in a kick, a wide grin on her face. Being so small, she was often not taken seriously when fighting, but she was always happy to prove herself. Even though she knew she’d lose, she would still be proud to just hold her own. “I knocked your sister down, so I’m sure you’ll be easy.” Of course, Siggy had won, but once again, that wasn’t the point. 

As she kicked, he went to catch the foot— giving it a hard twist in an attempt to try and throw her back to the ground. Even though he was big, he was faster than most people anticipated, simply because he’d done his best to work on such a thing, knowing that many would expect it to be something to best him on. “I already told you,” he said with a little laugh. “I’m better than her.”

Rosie needed to get out of the room. She couldn’t stand the sound of those crickets anymore, she was losing her mind hearing them. She crawled away from Gunnarr as he asked her his questions, making it to the hall ways opposite wall. “They left me,” She whispered. She couldn’t tell him that Salazar snapped her wand or that he had expelled her. She couldn’t admit that just yet.

He’d never seen Rosie even near anything like this, and that only worried him more. The girl had seemed entirely fearless, so what could have possibly rendered her into this state? Gunnarr followed her over, crouching down to her level with deep concern on his features. “Who left?” he asked softly in a voice that was often reserved for when Ingrid came scampering into his room after a nightmare. Tentatively, he reached out a hand to try and wipe the tears tracks from her face, moving slow. 

Rosie isn’t sure how long she had been in the room. It could have been minutes or hours, she wasn’t sure anymore. All she knew was that she was slumped against the door feeling cold and numb. Her sobbing had finally stopped, though tears still ran down her face, but she had yet to stop rattling the doorknob in hopes it would open. The crickets had yet to stop and she swore she was losing her mind as she heard the words pathetic whispered over and over again.

He was big, he was fast, he was a cocky walking mountain, she could see why he was so arrogant and still very alive. Freddy frowned but held her ground as she circled him, her sword tapping the ground, trying to figure his movements and her strategy. His reach was long, he was surely stronger than her, but was he faster. “I hope they get jealous, boys are stupid and arrogant and dumb. They only care about cocks and getting them wet.” she darted under his arm, letting her sword rise to catch his probably strike before flicking her hand out for a knife strapped to her belt. Stabbing close and neat was always an excellent idea.

He watched her move, admittedly not too concerned with how this fight might turn out for him. But her determination was something to certainly be admired, and would most likely serve her well in life— even if at times he knew if could also very possibly be her downfall. He snorted again in amusement at her words before saying. “I’m not going to say you’re wrong.” She was certainly light on her feet, but he still hadn’t made a move to attack as he went to dodge. If she was trying to get close that most likely meant he shouldn’t let her. Devoiding her of her preferred fighting style was step one. He could possibly just keep distance and dodging and she if she wore down, but he wasn’t sure of what her stamina was like. In an actual battle he would have advanced by now, but sparring one on one was more of a mind’s game than outright mob fighting was.

Damn it, he had noticed the Mistletoe. How pathetic did she look? She stepped away from the plant and him, trying to indicate that she wasn’t trying to rope him into anything. “You like the snow?” She said, not showing any real interest. “It’s always so cold now, I’m not sure I really like winter.” She usually spent it indoors with Melanie. Before that she was usually begging and trying not to freeze to death. “I suppose it’s been fine. It’s been an odd year…now that it’s coming to a close I guess the only thing to be happy with is that it’s over.” For others the year they came to Hogwarts would probably be a wonderful memory, but for Lucinda, it was just a reminder of all the things she hated about herself. “They’re cute if nothing else. I don’t believe I’ve met your sister yet, she must be happy to see them.” 

Had Lucinda been...waiting under the mistletoe? Gunnarr decided it was particularly his business, or rather, he didn’t care for it to be his business. But there was the problem of having stumbled upon the mistletoe in the first place. It had been his own people that deemed it as bad luck not to kiss underneath it, and Gunnarr was rather superstitious when it came to his people’s beliefs. “I kind of had to, didn’t I? he said with some amusement towards himself. After all, their winters were some of the harshest in the known world. “They’re good kids,” he said rather staunchly. They were more than good kids, really. “She’s in Hufflepuff,” he said vaguely, still wishing he hadn’t caught her underneath the mistletoe. He point a finger up to it. “Are you aware of the superstition, then?”

“It was an honor serving alongside you in the Winter War. May we bring home many more victories in the years to come.

Like a cat who was denied his treat, Bella glowered at Gunnarr, crossing her arms over her chest. “Mistletoe, if two people find themselves under it, they should kiss or they will have bad luck.” she recited in a dry voice, “But we already did that. Well, we kissed and then had very bad luck, so I don’t think this will affect us.”

He tried not to look in amusement at her little display of apparent pouting, but it was difficult to say the least. Gunnarr wasn’t entirely sure what it was that made him find angry women rather funny. Perhaps, a death wish. Still, he knew to be careful. “Perfectly put.” He wasn’t trying to kiss her again, truly, but he wasn’t against some friendly teasing. Perhaps she’d hate him less if they laughed on their misfortune. “Are you sure? Maybe that was simply a warning.”