#saevar

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"You seem a little lost." Saevar opened his eyes to a voice that seemed very familiar, but when he saw the person before him they were a complete stranger.

The two of them were standing in the middle of a nicotine-stained hotel room, with the AC unit groaning in the corner and Danish sports commentary drifting quietly from the TV. There were two beds, with an open suitcase on one of them. Saevar's stomach turned in dread. He knew this place.

The person in front of him was equally disconcerting: he appeared to be only a little younger than Saevar, and he was painfully out of place in this disgusting room in a crisp black suit and sneakers. Otherwise, he was unremarkable, but when Saevar tried to look up at his face he found that he couldn't focus on his features--they shifted and unfocused like a bad internet connection.

"What's going on?" Saevar asked. He knew well enough that this was some kind of dream, since he hadn't been in this hotel for nearly two years, and he would never have returned to Denmark on his own volition. Every memory of this place felt like a stab in the chest.

The stranger sighed, and again when he spoke Saevar felt almost accustomed to hearing his voice, though he didn't know how.

"I wanted to talk in a place you felt comfortable," the young man in the suit said. He spoke perfect Icelandic.

Saevar took a quick look around the room. "All my memories here are terrible."

"Not all of them." Suddenly the stranger's appearance began to change, almost lag, as his features came into focus. Saevar saw dark, intense eyes and short, wavy hair that was well-brushed. He seemed older now. His appearance immediately dominated the whole room, and Saevar felt his chest tighten a little. He cocked his head.

"You don't know me very well then," Saevar responded coldly. "My friend almost killed me here. Did you know that?"

"I did." The stranger's smile quirked a little and he gestured to the bed. "I know you have fond memories of him too. You two spent a lot of time here."

Anger sparked in Saevar's chest and he swallowed. "So what. I've spent a lot of time in motels with a lot of different people."

"Am I making you nervous?" The young man said, eyes knitting with worry. "I was hoping my face would be appealing to you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Saevar's voice was rising, but inside he was only feeling smaller and smaller. If this was a dream, he wanted to wake up.

"I'm sorry." The young man pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose in inward frustration, sighing a little. Then he squared his shoulders a little, lifting his head as his features began to change again--and as Saevar watched he felt his stomach drop into a pit. In an instant, Oliver was standing in front of him.

For a moment all Saevar could do was look at him, take in every detail, and tears stabbed behind his eyes. He felt like he should be angry, but there was a part of him that wanted to believe it was really him in this dream.

"I know you were starting to forget what he looked like," said Not-Oliver. His voice was exactly the same.

A soft whine escaped Saevar through his nose before he could stop it and he put his face in his hands. The sob growing in his throat threatened to overflow, warm tears dripping through his fingers.

"The last time you saw him, he was already gone," he continued. His voice was soft, but steady. "I know what those boys at your school did to you. You had I know you would have rather died like Oliver did than live with the memory of it."

That anger from before jumped up like an explosion of C4 in Saevar's chest and he lashed out before he knew what he was doing: with a roar he grabbed the stranger's collar and pushed him down onto the bed, lifting his other shaking fist to hit him as hard as he could, anywhere, it didn't matter.

Then he was into Oliver's eyes, and he couldn't move. His grip on his collar tightened, but his fist still hovered over his face.

"Fuck you," Saevar whispered. A tear dripped down to his chin and onto Oliver's cheek. "Fuck you, you bastard. Why are you doing this to me?"

"I know your mind erased the memories of that day to protect you," Not-Oliver said to him. His voice was breaking in places now, like it used to do when he was about to cry. "He was the only friend you ever had, and you were forgetting him. I'm doing this as an act of goodwill."

"Who are you?" Saevar demanded, eyes still on fire with rage.

"If I tell you that, you'll really try to kill me," Not-Oliver replied gently. "I won't make you choose something like that. But I know someone is trying to hunt and kill you. I take personal responsibility for that. That's why I'm going to visit you all soon."

"You know about Romulus?!" Saevar asked.

"He knows about me too," the stranger replied, a little more urgently. "I think he wants to find me more than he wants to find you. But he won't, he just thinks he will because he always succeeds, no matter what. l It's his Mark, after all."

Saevar felt his limbs weakening as his pounding heart threatened to explode from his chest. It didn't make sense, but it almost didn't matter. All he could think about was the fact that Oliver was here, even if it wasn't real. Had this been his plan?

"You're trying to trick me," Saevar murmured, lowering his fist. His eyelashes fluttered in rage. "You're trying to use Oliver against me."

"I'm sure you feel conflicted," Not-Oliver said. He didn't move. He didn't even try to break free from Saevar's grip. "I know you two never truly told each other how you felt, you never even kissed."

Saevar wanted to punch him so badly, but his muscles were frozen.

"You were afraid," he continued earnestly. "But you always felt comfortable with him. He was the one person that could silence the guilt and anger in your mind. That's why I came here like this."

"How do you know all this?" Saevar asked. His voice sounded broken and pathetic out loud.

"This is your dream. Your mind is as safe as it's ever been." Not-Oliver smiled at him, and then pushed himself upright on the bed. Saevar let go of him with clammy hands, stepping back and running his fingers through his hair. His heart was racing.

"Like I said, you won't like who I am. But that doesn't matter to me. You'll need my help, and whether you like it or not I'll be coming to kill Romulus once and for all." Not-Oliver took a deep breath, looking around the room. "I should be honest, I chose this place because it was a familiar memory, but that isn't all. You have bad memories too, with Percy. You felt powerful with him, but pathetic too. Like you were a fraud. You let your Mark control you and it nearly killed you."

Saevar finally turned away from him, feeling humiliation boil in his chest. It was so rare he felt that emotion anymore.

"Your Mark is the most devastating of them all, Saevar," the stranger said. "It dealt you a terrible hand, and for that I'm sorry. But look at you now. Trying to help people. Making amends. I chose this place, and this form, to show you that you're still human. Don't you think that counts for something?"

Saevar didn't reply. He just wanted to leave, to wake up, whatever.

"I see I've ruined the mood."

Saevar heard Not-Oliver stand up from the bed, and as he walked around to face him he saw that Oliver's face was gone, replaced with those dark eyes and suit from before.

"We'll talk later," the young man said. Something about the gentleness in his voice made Saevar's spine prickle, like there was something right underneath the softness of it. "Think about what I've said."

S I N N E R

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“You know, you worrying about me so much... I’m flattered.”

Heresy turned, inhaling sharply as she saw the outline of Saevar standing in the doorway of her bedroom. His hands were in his pockets, and even in the dim light his eyes flashed a stark silvery-blue. The fear pumping through her veins seemed to numb to a throb, and she felt like she couldn’t even move.

Part of her knew the truth. That something had changed, and he was here to kill her. Maybe it was the anger management classes, but she desperately wanted to talk her way out of this one.

“We just wanted you to come back,” Heresy murmured. Her voice was trembling. “So we could help you. Saevar--”

“Mmm. That’s so sweet of you, but it kind of seemed like you were running from me,” Saevar remarked, taking a casual step into the room and slowly closing the door behind him. For a moment Heresy should only see the moonlight reflecting off his back, the way his shirt fell on his shoulder blades. Wait...

She blinked hard. This wasn’t happening. “Stop it,” she demanded, voice spiking shakily as he turned and took another step toward her. “I said fucking stop it.”

Saevar raise an eyebrow, mouth twitching with an intrigued smile. “Stop what? I’m not doing anything.”

“You know damn well that’s not true,” she said. Her feet were still planted, whether in fear or determination she couldn’t tell. She was vaguely aware of her phone on the dresser, if she could just get to it...

 “Romulus did something to you. I, I don’t know,” she continued, stepping back as he advanced. “You disappeared, and now you show up here and, and you’re acting like a dick. Stop it.”

Saevar’s grin widened as he walked right up to her, so close she could feel his breath, and his eyes drifted past her to the table next to the bed. Her heart dropped as he moved into her, his chest brushing hers as he reached down to pick up her phone.

“You know I can see into your head, right?” he asked her, voice barely above a whisper. She tried to inhale again but all she could feel was his warm breath on her face. Then, in moment of clarity, she shoved him away.

“Fuck you,” she whispered. That familiar anger, like wildfire, began to lick away at her defenses. “You told me you would never fuck with my head. You’re sick.”

“You’re missing the point, Heresy,” he told her, spreading his arms. “I’m not doing anything. I just exist, and your mind goes straight into the gutter. Do you know exactly how sick I am? I’ve tried all the cures, all the therapy and coping mechanisms, but I’ve had enough. I’ve come to terms with the fact that nothing makes me feel better than putting your thoughts through a fucking blender. But it’s a win-win anyway.”

He stepped forward again, and this time Heresy tried to lift a fist to hit him but he grabbed her wrist with ease.

“That’s what he showed me, Heresy,” he told her, his voice dropping to a growl. “How to stop worrying and just let it happen. God, he opened up my mind to so many things. I feel fantastic.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me too,” Heresy whispered. “You’re my friend, Saevar.”

“You think I want to hurt you?” Saevar asked, eyebrows knitting. He tilted his head, hand resting on the crook of her neck. His touch sent a bolt of electricity through her body and she inhaled sharply. In that moment it was all over.

Every word felt like helium, every detail of his face new and captivating. Heresy’s knees began to fail under her and she stumbled back against the wall. Saevar closed the distance, eyes flashing knowingly as they flickered over her face.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he told her softly. She knew it was a lie, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Heresy, you can’t hide anything from me. From the day I met you, I’ve known how you felt. You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”

“I...”

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Saevar lifted a hand, caressing her cheek with his thumb as he tilted her head back to look into her eyes. She didn’t resist. “You don’t think I’m going to hurt you, I know that for a fact. You’re scared I’m going to do something else.”

“Saevar,” she whispered. It was all she could think of to say.

“You’re so conflicted,” he purred, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Because this is exactly what you want. And the only reason you didn’t tell me before is because you know what something like that would mean between us, isn’t that right?”

Heresy suddenly reached up, her hands grabbing his shoulders like she was going to shove him away again. Saevar didn’t respond, his eyes still trained on her with that intoxicating smirk, and then she pulled him down into a kiss.

An overwhelming wave of euphoria crashed over her and she felt her head grow impossibly light as his hands slid around her waist, every thought abandoned by logic as her heartbeat became the loudest noise in the room--

“Saevar!”

As soon as it had started, Saevar’s arms pulled away from her, and without him supporting her she collapsed to the ground.

Saevar turned slowly, unfamiliar contempt flickering in his eyes as they met Percy’s from across the room. Without looking away he threw Heresy’s phone onto the bed, that sickeningly sweet smile only growing.

“That was a little rude,” he remarked.

“So this is why he let you go,” Percy asked, lip curling in a snarl. “To do his dirt work and pick us all off?”

Saevar turned to glance back at Heresy, who was now unconscious on the floor. “That’s a little dramatic,” he said. “But it’s not like you guys are making it hard. Everyone around here is fucking obsessed with me.”

“You’re mental,” Percy snapped. “Look at you. I don’t even know you.”

“Come on,” Saevar prodded, walking toward Percy with infuriating confidence. “We both know you know me better than anyone. Did our year on the road slip your mind?” 

Percy stepped back instinctively, every feature betraying a fear he had felt too many times before. “Don’t you dare. You know none of that was, was real.”

Saevar shrugged, nose wrinkling a little. “Felt pretty real.”

“We were both at rock bottom. Starving animals trying to feel something. It didn’t mean anything except survival.”

“Now that just hurts my feelings.” Saevar’s eyes followed Percy’s frightened, defensive movements with almost an entertained fascination. A soft chuckle escaped him. “Look at you, you’re a wreck. ”

He walked up to Percy, grabbing his collar without warning and yanking him towards himself. Percy restrained a whimper, tensing under his grip.

“Easy,” Saevar purred.

“I will kill you if I have to,” Percy whispered. Black ooze was already starting to gather at the corners of his mouth. “You know I’m hungry enough.”

Saevar clicked his tongue, reaching up to wipe away the ooze with his thumb. “I don’t think so,” he murmured. His eyes were horrible, empty and unfamiliar, and that was worse that anything. “You couldn’t before.”

“I am much different than when we first met in that bar, Saevar.”

“No,” Saevar said. He was so close, Percy could smell him. “Nothing will ever change, Percy. You’ll always need me around.”

The shattering of glass broke the tension without warning and Saevar fell to the ground. Percy staggered back, eyes falling on Heresy holding a shattered glass base of the bedside lamp. Their eyes met in mutual fear and humiliation.

“Never speak of this again,” Percy gasped.

(I’m gonna tweak this idea just a little bit, i like it!)

Saevar stuffed his hands deeper in his pockets, lingering slightly behind the group of his classmates further up the path. They had been at the zoo since that morning but he had yet to see anything that truly impressed him. To be fair, he was just glad to not be doing homework.

A poke to his lower back made him jump and he looked over to see Oliver had snuck up behind him, a grin on his face.

“Don’t do that,” Saevar hissed, glancing to the group, but he was smiling too. “Some zoo, huh?”

“Could use some animals,” Oliver noted sarcastically, his wide dark eyes darting around. “There’s supposed to be a tiger up ahead. I asked the zookeeper with the curly brown hair back there.”

“Sure you did, right after you looked deeply into each other’s eyes,” Saevar snickered, running his hands through the waterfall of blonde hair coming over his face. Oliver elbowed him hard.

“You’re a a fucking idiot, Saevar.” 

Saevar was about to reply with something clever when a flash of color caught his eye as they rounded the corner. He turned sharply to see the largest tiger he had ever seen laying against the bars, staring straight into Saevar, and he was so startled he jumped back and nearly knocked Oliver over.

“Heilagur mömmuriðill!!” Saevar gasped, hand clutching his heart. Oliver grabbed Saevar’s shoulders from behind to catch him, cackling and giving him a little shake.

“S-Saevar, oh my god--” he gasped, laughing loud enough for the rest of the class to hear him and look back at him. “Your face was--holy shit--”

“Would you relax?” Heresy said good-naturedly after a moment, causing Saevar to glance up at her. “We’re here to have fun, remember?”

“I don’t think it was a good idea to leave Jenna in charge,” he replied stiffly.

“She’ll be fine. We’re only going to be gone for a couple hours, and Hypnos is probably going to nap the whole time anyway. And,” she added quickly, noticing Saevar was opening his mouth to reply, “I gave Jenna money for Postmates. Weren’t you the one who said this movie looked interesting anyway?”

“I think a lot of things look interesting,” Saevar told her. “That tree over there looks interesting. This sidewalk is pretty interesting.”

“God, you’re a world-class complainer.”

Someone cleared their throat behind them to move up in line and they both fell silent for a moment.

“I can’t live in constant fear of something going wrong,” Heresy finally said, quieter. “Running a bed and breakfast is getting exhausting. I need time to myself, and I’m pretty sure you agree.”

“Well, you’re right about that.” Saevar sighed, running his fingers through the flop of blonde hair falling over his face. “It’s been a while since I just did something normal.”

Heresy blew out a laugh from her nose. “That’s the understatement of the year. How long have you had that stick wedged in your asshole?”

“What--Excuse me? What?”

Heresy raised an eyebrow. “You heard me.”

Saevar’s eyes widened. “I did, and I’m very confused.”

“Do you not know that saying?”

“What saying?”

“Oh my god--never mind. Whatever.”

They stepped up a few more feet in line and Heresy’s gaze grew distant as she looked at the tv screen above the ticket desk running trailers. Saevar watched her with his strange sharp eyes. It was that look he got whenever he was looking into someone’s mind.

To be fair, he probably could have guessed what she was thinking without snooping, but he couldn’t help it. It gave him extreme satisfaction when he found something that contradicted how they seemed on the outside, and right now there was a flutter of strange nervousness that Saevar couldn’t help but notice. 

Heresy seemed to notice after a while and glanced over at him, laughing a little. “You okay?”

Saevar shrugged. “Of course. I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“I guess I’m just surprised.” The corner of Saevar’s mouth twitched and he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He could sense he was probably pushing it, especially since Heresy knew what he was capable of. There was a part of him that liked pushing it, especially with her.

Heresy’s dark eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled just a little. “I know you weren’t just poking around in my head.”

“Relax, I don’t need to poke into your head to know what you’re thinking,” Saevar lied. She only shrugged and he chuckled, unable to hide his amusement at Heresy’s visceral reaction. Her angry outbursts were terrifying to the rest of the group, but not to him. Maybe it was his unhealthy upbringing of interpreting aggression as a challenge.

“You have no idea what I’m thinking,” Heresy replied, eyebrows narrowing. “Don’t get weird with me.”

“Weird?” He asked innocently.

“Yeah, weird. You do this thing where you try to make drama with your mind games when you’re bored and say a bunch of vague shit,” Heresy told him, jamming her finger in his direction. “Let me have this, Saevar. I need one afternoon, just one.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re enjoying yourself just fine,” Saevar told her, sucking on the inside of his mouth as he saw the color rise in her cheeks. Whether it was embarrassment or anger, not even he could tell. Anger was sort of ever-present with her.

“You’re an asshole. I’m trying to be nice and take you out to a movie and you’re still picking on me,” Heresy snapped, but her tone wasn’t aggressive enough to be persuasive. She wouldn’t look at him anymore.

“You did tell me to relax, hm?”

The person behind them cleared their throat even louder than last time, and the two stepped quickly up in the line.

Saevar shrugged, his bright eyes twinkling a little in rare genuine amusement as he glanced over at Heresy. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, and his satisfied tone seemed to only make Heresy more infuriated despite his obvious earnest. “I can’t help it.”

“It’s like a tick, man. Get over yourself,” Heresy grumbled, pulling her cash out of her pocket as they approached the ticket stand. “Just try to let me have a good time, okay?”