#zaethrin

“Uh…is something the matter?” he asked, feeling his heart in his throat all of a sudden.

Zaethrin shook his head as a soft flush crossed his face, hiding the light freckling he had on his cheeks and nose. His eyes fell away for a moment as he bit his lower lip before he looked back at the protoframe. There was an uncertainty in his eyes, but also a determination that Arthur swore sent electricity through his veins 

The tenno took a deep breath and said, “Arthur, I-”

“HEYGUYS!!! I heard there was stew!”

The sudden appearance of their resident technophile sent them both jumping in their seats.

Arthur sighed, loudly before turning an annoyed glare towards the speedster, “Amir…we just started, and stew takes time.”

“But I’m hungry…and boooored…and that is the worst combo ever,” Amir whined, leaning against the counter with his elbows. “Is there something I can at least snack on?”

Zaethrin gave him an amused look before glancing at Arthur. “Do you think we could make the grilled cheese now?”

Amir instantly perked up at this. As he did, he seemed to notice Arthur bandaging the drifter's finger, “Oooh, did the kitchen gods already claim a finger?”

“Just a little blood sacrifice, that’s all,” Zaethrin joked, although he was red as a tomato.

“Do I need to go get Lett-”

“No,” the other two said in unison, one panicked while the other was annoyed. 

Amir snickered at that, holding up his hands. “Ok, ok, no Lettie.”

Arthur shook his head and finished up putting the bandage on before standing and patting Zaethrin on the shoulder.

“You’ll live,” he said teasingly, before looking over at Amir with an unreadable expression. The Volt protoframe gave him the biggest puppydog eyes that Arthur. He lasted maybe thirty seconds before he ended up sighing and giving in to the loveable nuisance that was Amir Beckett. “I suppose we could make the grilled cheese first…”

“Woot!” Amir cheered, pumping his fists in the air. Zaethrin chuckled at that as he stood moving to clean up the cutting board, knife, and food that was contaminated. 

Arthur gathered what they needed for the grilled cheese, carefully clearing room to make them. However, even as he went through the motions, there was a fluttering in his stomach and electricity still coursed through his veins. He glanced over at the drifter, whose back was to him as he cleaned. What was he going to say before Amir interrupted? Arthur had a pretty good idea what it could have been, especially with the recent uptick in flirting and looks Zaethrin had been giving him. He’d be lying--to himself, mainly--if he said he didn’t want that hunch to be true…Sol, now was not the time to think about this.

Later. He’d worry about it later.

When he could really sit and think…

With a couple of beers…

Or several.

The rest of the lesson went surprisingly smoothly after they fed Amir and themselves. Once again Arthur found himself endeared to the drifter as he fell in love with the grilled cheese, proclaiming it his new favorite food. After Amir left, they finished making the stew with Arthur showing Zaethrin how to dice the onions--tears and all--and explained the steps of building the flavors and when to add what as the stew cooked. Zaethrin was attentive and asked several good questions when he was confused about something or why Arthur used a certain technique. 

By the time it was ready to serve, the rest of the Hex and the Round Table had joined them for the meal. It was nice, having a moment like this. Peaceful. Warm. Like the family they slowly had become over the many loops that he could remember.

Eventually they all parted ways for the evening, either retiring for the night or going on patrol. Arthur, however, found his way to the bar for those beers he wanted…needed? 

“Mind having this old man as a drinking buddy?” Velimir asked as he slid into the other side of the booth.

“Don’t mind at all, mate,” Arthur chuckled, taking a long swig of his beer.

Velimir grinned as he cracked open his own, taking a slow sip after chilling it between his hands. “So,” he started, leaning back, “how’d our time traveler do with their cooking lesson?”

“Fairly well, in my opinion,” Arthur said, fidgeting with the bottle in his hand. A small smile twitched on his lips when he added, “Minus cutting himself with a knife.”

“Ha! If he had managed to get out of there completely unscathed, I would have been impressed,” the Libertatian snickered, “But better a cut than a burn. Burns are the worst, especially on your hand! Yeugh!”

“Truth,” Arthur chuckled, raising his bottle to his lips again.

Velimir’s chuckles died down as he looked into his beer. “Can’t help but feel sorry for the…heh, well, he’s not a kid, pretty sure he’s not only older than me, but older than all of us put together…but still, can’t help but feel sorry for him.”

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, after he asked what a snowman was--talk about breaking my big frosty heart--it got me thinking about everything he’s missed,” Velimir sighed, taking a long drink of his beer, “Sure, he might have spent centuries in that little pocket dimension thing, but he never got real experiences like the rest of us. No sweet sixteen, no learning to drive and terrifying their parents with their lack of self preservation at the same time, or graduation, or any other milestones. Hells, probably didn’t even get to have that first crush experience…”

“Yeah,” Arthur said quietly, slowly sipping his beer. He knew Zaethrin did have that latter experience, but considering how he knew, he kept quiet. Although, it did get him thinking again…but not right now. Not enough beer in him.

“The minute it starts snowing, I’m going to show him how to build a snowman,” the Frost protoframe stated, a twinkle in his eye as he said it, “And maybe a good old snow ball fight…”

“I’m surprised you have tried to create some,” Arthur commented.

“I tried, I really did,” Velimir whined with a small pout, “I can’t seem to get the consistency right. These abilities only seem to be good for two things, freezing the shit out of enemies…and spicing up things in the bedroom. M really likes it when I--” An empty water bottle flew across the bar and smacked the older man in the head. “Ow! Rude!”

Arthur chuckled and glanced over where he saw Minerva behind the bar, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. He looked back at Velimir and said, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out after a couple of loops.”

“Here’s hoping,” the older man sighed.

They continued talking, mostly about the loop, speculating on how it really worked and why they could remember some loops but not others. Minerva eventually cut them off before they got too sloshed. Arthur was pretty sure it was to save her ears if they started up singing again. He was tempted to protest, but she was probably right. Less of a chance to make a damn fool of himself…but then again, the night was still young…

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The Drifter, Zaethrin, for all his sass and snark that could grate on Arthur’s nerves at times, was someone he had slowly grown to trust. It helped considerably that Zae had been patient and stubborn with him when trying to get to know Arthur better. Most people who tried usually gave up by that point. Zaethrin didn’t push--much--when Arthur shut down a subject, which he appreciated and returned in kind when asking Zae about himself. Over time, he’d become someone Arthur genuinely enjoyed chatting with. 

He supposed it also helped that their first conversation over the KIM had Arthur in stitches. Petersham. He hadn’t laughed like that in ages, and it still brought a smile to his face when he thought about it. Not to mention the fact that Zae was too damn adorable when it came to things that seemed perfectly mundane to Arthur, like mood rings or omeletts--square omeletts to be precise. 

Plus, there were also the other man’s valiant attempts at flirting with him--Arthur still couldn’t figure out why he bothered. Maybe he just liked to flirt? Regardless, he had to admit he’d become downright fond of the time traveler. It certainly didn’t hurt that Zae was more than easy on the eyes too…and that thought was going right back where it had been--far from the forefront of his mind where it belonged.

“Yeah, Drift-?” The other man’s moniker fell short on his lips when Arthur looked up and saw Zaethrin’s face. A worried pit grew in his stomach as he quickly sat up and set aside his skana and whetstone. Arthur had seen that haunted look more times than he’d like to count over the years--from fellow soldiers, the other members of Hex…and in the mirror most mornings. It was the look one got when nightmares of trauma reared their ugly heads, and Arthur could only imagine what could cause that for the man in front of him. Those luminous eyes screamed for help and comfort. “Zaethrin…what’s wrong?”

“Damn, I must really look like shit if you instantly became worried like that,” the other man chuckled softly, but the laughter didn’t reach his face. He stood there a few moments, staring at the Protoframe’s shoulder, eyes glazed and distant. Arthur was about to say something when Zaethrin sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I could…I could really use someone to talk to…if you don’t mind…if not, I can always wait for-”

“Of course I don’t mind, Zae,” Arthur said before the other man could finish. As he stood from his chair, he saw some of the tension in the Drifter’s shoulders relax a little. Approaching Zaethrin, Arthur gently took his elbow and led him over to the other empty chair behind the counter. “Come on and have a seat…can I get you anything?”

“I’d say some hot coco, but somehow I highly doubt we have any,” Zaethrin replied with a crooked grin.

“Sadly, you are correct, we do not,” Arthur confirmed, returning the grin with a small one of his own. He was pleased to see the grin reach Drifter’s eyes. That was a good sign. He made a mental note to requisition Quincy with getting some coco--it’d probably cost Arthur a favor with the sniper, but it’d be worth it. Pulling over the chair he had occupied earlier, Arthur sat down across from Zae, leaning forward on his forearms, hands clasped between his knees. “...nightmares?” he probed.

Zaethrin nodded, pulling his legs up on the chair, hugging one to his chest as the other crossed under it. He placed his chin on his knee, eyes glued to a spot on Arthur’s chest. “Yeah…”

When he didn’t elaborate further, Arthur prompted, “Do you want to talk about them? Or we can always talk about something else…”

“I mean…honestly, I don’t want to talk about them…but I think I need to talk about them, if only to see if it’d help…” Zae replied, arms tightening around his leg. Those warm brown eyes, with their eerie teal glow, locked with his. “Just…a warning…it’s…dark…I…I can’t really sugar coat anything…”

“I don’t need you to sugar coat it, Zae,” he reassured the other man, “I’m not going to sit here and say I can handle anything you throw at me--Sol only knows the shit you’ve been through that would make me crumble like a biscuit. But I’m here for you, regardless.”

Arthur saw a small smile cross Zaethrin’s lips before he said, “Thanks.” He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in deep before letting it out slowly.

“I mentioned before that I had a sibling,” he started, waiting until Arthur nodded. “Izzy--Isabel--my little sister…she was five years younger than me,” a fond look crossed his face as let out a soft laugh, “excuse me, four and a half, not five, as she always reminded me…She was nine, almost ten…Fuck, she’d been so excited that she’d finally be in the double digits…to be considered a ‘big kid’ so she could follow her older brother to areas of the Zariman only the older kids were allowed. She wanted to follow me everywhere, even when there were times I really wish she didn’t--moody young teenager. But despite that, I called her my ‘little shadow’…”

“Sorry,” Zaethrin said with a soft giggle, fully entering the room. “I thought you heard me come in.”

“It’s fine,” Arthur sighed, moving on to the next task--tying together a bundle of dried herbs. “I have an apron for you on the stool there. Just wash your hands and we can get started.”

“Alright,” the tenno said. From the corner of his eye he saw Zaethrin pick up the dark purple apron and look at it. He watched him hold it up, head tilting slightly.

“Everything okay?” Arthur asked as he turned, an eyebrow raised. He was a little surprised to see disappointment cross the other man’s features as he glanced down at Arthur’s apron. What…oh…right…

“Oh, and please don’t forget the cute apron.”

Sol, the drifter couldn’t have been serious about that…could he?

“Yeah, everything’s good,” Zaethrin replied, with a bright, genuine smile. He put on the apron and tied it off in the back before asking, “So…where do we start on my culinary journey?”

Arthur couldn’t help but return the smile, it was infectious. He went back to his preparations as he replied, “We’re starting off easy today. I want to see what you know already, so I picked two simple recipes. The stew and the…grilled cheese.”

Zaethrin laughed, a light airy sound, shaking his head. “If you had to eat the same cubed rations day after day for centuries on end, a grilled cheese would look divine to you too.”

“Fair enough,” the soldier chuckled. “We’ll start the stew, then make the grilled cheese as it…well, stews.”

“Sounds good to me,” Zaethrin said, chuckling softly. He slid up next to Arthur, observing what he was doing. “What’s that? And why are you tying it up?”

“Herbs for flavor--rosemary, thyme, and bay leaves,” Arthur answered, holding the bundle up by the string. “And I’m doing this so it’s easier to fish out of the stew. I’d rather not get a bite of a leaf or stem if I can help it.”

“Makes sense,” the tenno murmured, stepping back a little when Arthur moved to pull over the cutting board.

“What are your knife skills like?” he asked Zaethrin as he placed a peeled carrot on the board and started to roughly chop it.

“Uh…well, in combat they’re pretty good? And you know I can cut up my food into perfect squares...”

“That’s true,” Arthur chuckled, finishing the carrot he was working on and sliding the board over to the tenno. “You should be able to handle the rough cuts then, just be careful to not catch a finger with the knife.”

“I think I can manage that,” Zaethrin said, taking up the knife and starting to chop up another carrot. 

Arthur nodded in approval before working on getting the beef ready..at least he hoped it was beef.

“Where’d you learn how to cook?” the other man asked.

“Mainly from my mother, much to my father’s chagrin,” Arthur replied with a soft chuckle, “And I picked up a few things while traveling with the military.”

“He didn’t approve of you learning to cook?” Zaethrin inquired, pausing what he was doing to look at Arthur, his brow furrowing in confusion, “But it sounds like a useful skill to have.”

“My father is very set in his ways,” the protoframe sighed, shaking his head, “Stuck in the idea that only women should be in the kitchen…didn’t mind me learning to cook in the wilderness, of course, because that’s survival skills.”

Zaethrin snorted, going back to chopping, moving on to the potatoes. “He would have gotten along with my mom’s parents then.”

“They didn’t want you to learn to cook?” Arthur queried, glancing over at the drifter.

“No, the opposite actually,” the other man replied.

“Oh,” Arthur murmured before what Zaethrin said clicked and his brow furrowed, “Wait…what?”

“Hmm?” Zaethrin stopped what he was doing to look at Arthur again, who stared right back.

“If they have a similar belief as my father…why would they want you to learn to cook?”

There was a long moment before something seemed to click for Zaethrin and soon soft laughter rumbled from the tenno’s throat. “Oh right, you weren’t there when I was discussing some of the implants I have with Amir, when this came up, were you?” he asked, with a small grin as he tapped lightly on the cognitive relays that lined the right side of his head.  

Arthur wasn’t sure if that was a rhetorical question, but still shook his head. He became worried when Zaethrin’s shoulders tensed slightly and he looked...uneasy? Worried?

“I uh…” the tenno cleared his throat, “I wasn’t born male…and my mother’s parents didn’t…agree with my identity when I came out. They still wanted to mold me into the ‘perfect wife’ to marry off.”

It took Arthur only a moment to absorb the information he was given. He was a little surprised, sure, but he was more focused on the latter part. “Huh…what absolute wankers,” he finally said, almost growling it out.

Zaethrin laughed again, fuller this time as his face lit up with a smile and his shoulders relaxed a little. “No clue what ‘wanker’ means, but from your tone I’m going to assume it’s not a compliment.”

“It’s not,” Arthur chuckled, going back to trimming the fat off the beef. “Although, I have to admit I’m surprised the future isn’t more accepting.”

“I mean, it is…at least compared to what I’ve read about this time period,” the drifter explained, “But if you weren’t Orokin, a lot of things came down to money and influence. My mom’s family came from money--‘posh’ is the word Quincy used, I think. Very set in their ways and always wanting to further their influence to go even higher up the social ladder. Mainly through marriage--thank Lua my parents never bought into that shit and put a stop to any bullshit my mom’s parents were trying to pull...”

“I’m almost afraid to ask…”

“It was nothing super nefarious…well, compared to other things I’ve dealt with,” Zaethrin sighed, placing the last of the cut up potatoes in the bowl before starting on the celery, “But they had a marriage arranged for me.”

“Shit, what rubbish people,” Arthur commented, shaking his head.

“Agreed,” Zaethrin chuckled.

A comfortable silence fell over them as they continued to work on the stew. From the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Zaethrin glancing over at him every once and a while. He was about to ask if there was something wrong when the other man released what could only be described as a squeak. A really adorable squeak at that.

“Zae?” Arthur asked, looking over at him, both curious and amused, “Everything alright?”

“Yup,” the tenno said quickly, pulling his left hand to his chest. “...just realized how sharp this knife is.”

The protoframe sighed and chuckled, holding out his hand for Zaethrin’s. “It was bound to happen, I would have been more surprised if it didn’t. Let me see, please?”

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