#Also I might've thrown in a little angst please forgive me

[grovyrosegirl]

Hellooooo! Um, if you're still taking random requests, maybe something about (platonic, of course) Jesse and Ivor post-Episode 4, where they don't flat out dislike each other anymore but still have that uncomfortable awkwardness between them? I always wondered how they went from reluctant, former-enemy allies to kinda-sorta friends between Ep 4 and Ep 5.

When Ivor met Jesse on the night of Endercon, he thought very little of her. Just some over-confident child who was in way over her head. Afterwards, when that same girl kept popping up to get in the way, from snooping around in his hidden lair to giving him a swift punch in the Nether to the duel in Soren’s fortress, she became a pest, a thorn in his side just like everyone else.

Then that same pest became the world’s last hope.

Then their hero.

And now, Jesse was the person he owed the most to.

There were the obvious reasons for this, after all, who didn’t owe their life to the person that was brave enough to take down the command block? But in his case, there was more. For one thing, she’d also given him a place to stay. People weren’t happy to have Ivor around, it didn’t take a genius to figure that out. So as one may expect, finding an area to live that wasn’t out in the middle of nowhere proved difficult. The day that Ivor was just about ready to give up and surrender to a new isolated life was the same day Jesse offered him one of the extra bedrooms in the newly completed Order Hall.

“Just until you have enough materials to make your own place, sound good?” She’d told him, pointing towards the spare bedroom.

Why? Ivor himself couldn’t come up with a good reason. They weren’t friends of any kind. And why would they be? They hardly ever made conversation with each other after the Wither Storm’s defeat, only really talking to each other when it came to matters regarding the slowly budding town being built (that ridiculous debate on what to name it was still going, people were stuck between Stonesville and Beacontown) or the occasional awkward small talk Jesse would attempt to make. It would be ludicrous of him to ever think Jesse thought of him as a friend.

And yet, it seemed that she didn’t consider Ivor an enemy either. Or if she did, she was very good at hiding it. Never once since he settled in had Ivor spotted a scowl from her in his direction or accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation where she brought his name up with unpleasant words, things he’d grown used to living here with the rest of the new residents. But when it came to Jesse, Ivor was just…there. And she acknowledged that. That was it.

It didn’t make sense one bit. Ivor tried thinking from every angle possible, but no answer would solve this puzzle. Because, really, of all people, Jesse should’ve hated him the most. But she didn’t.

Why?

Recently the group of four heroes had decided to start going adventures of their own, more often than not looking for treasure. Ivor had almost gotten used to the quiet Order Hall until Jesse, Axel, Olivia, and Petra returned to town after a three day trip, empty handed treasure-wise, but full of stories to tell about the journey at the dinner table. Soon after the meal, the group decided to turn in for the night, save for Jesse, who was still finishing the last pieces of her baked potato, and Ivor, whose nose had been stuck in a book since the afternoon.

Unfortunately, he made the mistake of glancing up from the pages, causing direct eye-contact between Ivor and the young leader sitting across from him, still poking at what remained of her food with a fork. Too late to dart his eyes back to the novel and pretend it didn’t happen, the young leader was already staring at him, the uncomfortable silence filling the air. How odd. Normally it would be Jesse who’d start off the strained small talk that would lead to nowhere. But tonight, she was silent, almost as if she was expecting him to say something.

And he does, shocking himself and her.

“So, Jesse,” He began with a pause, “what’s your favorite color?”

If Ivor hadn’t been holding that old copy of How to Train Your Slime: Volume 2 in his hands, he might’ve slapped himself on the forehead for the asinine conversation starter.

Jesse blinked and glanced to the side before answering, “Uh, I guess pink’s cool. I like pink.”

“Ah, that’s…nice,” Ivor muttered, cursing himself internally. Perhaps now would’ve been the time to slowly raise the book higher as to end the pathetic excuse for a friendly chat right there.

That is, until Jesse continued with, “What’s yours?”

He looked up again, eyes wide with surprise. He cleared his throat to try and shake it off, “I’m fond of blue, myself. Dark blue.”

“Neat,” She replied plainly before the quiet brewed up once more. Jesse placed her fork aside, her fingers tapping on the table as it now fell on her to come up with something to keep the conversation alive, “So, how’s the material gathering going? For your house, I mean.”

“It’s going fine, I’ve gathered enough stone for the framework, and I have a basic idea of what the shape shall be,” Ivor said, muttering on the side, “Shame the blonde guy took off, I had hoped he could look over the blueprints.”

“Do you know where you’re going to put it?”

At that question, Ivor paused, unable to tell whether it was another attempt at stretching out the talk or a subtle way of requesting he disappear soon. He shouldn’t be surprised if it’s the latter. Really, a part of him knew this day would come. It would be fine. Ivor’s been alone for years, what’s a few more stacked on top going to do, drive him mad? Please. Most people would say it was far too late for that.

“Because, you know,” Jesse piped up, breaking his thoughts, “there’s an empty space right near the Order Hall’s entrance. I could reserve it for you.”

Ivor went still, the words said feeling unreal, “Really?”

She gave a shrug, “Yeah, I mean, I figured you want to stay nearby, right? And nobody’s claimed it yet, so…yeah. All yours if you want it.”

“I see, then,” Ivor moved his head downwards, acting as if his attention was being returned to the book, “I suppose I’ll take it.”

“Alright,” he heard her say, “I’ll mark it down first thing tomorrow.”

The final pause of the night rose up before Ivor said in the smallest tone he’d ever heard his voice in, “Thank you, Jesse.”

“Mhm.”

Against his better judgement, Ivor glanced up from the book again. Luckily for him, this time Jesse returned to her food, moving the potato chunks around in a circular motion with her fork, as if the conversation never occurred.

What a strange person.

Maybe it was begrudged pity that drove her. That seemed logical, right? Ivor could accept that.

…For now, at least.