#again completely unedited so mind the errors. grammatical and continuity and otherwise

[smidgen-of-hotboy]

Out in the Cold Field, pt. ii

Hello Travelers. Terrible Waste hurt us all... Surly this won't hurt you more?

@ananxiousgenz @urjover @one-joe-spoopy @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @demonic-panini @waters-and-the-wilde @the-private-eye

The woman’s expression went from smug to slack in mere moments. She said her name was Aurora. Aurora’s expression went from smug to slack in mere moments. 

She recovered swiftly and chose her words carefully, “I have no clue what you’re talking about Darling.” 

“If you have intention to lie to me, then my Associate and I will be less inclined to help you.” 

“Like I said, I didn’t ask to be saved. And in any case, you’re running away from yourselves, you and your Associate, correct? I can’t begin to conceive why you would stop to pick a stranger off the side of the tracks. I have nothing to give or offer you.”

“My Associate and I do not want anything from you–”

Aurora’s laughter is sharp. Like nails gliding against a chalkboard, she cackles with an amount of carefree nature that Jet hasn’t heard since spring disappeared. 

“Oh Jet Darling– you really are a comedian! There is no such thing as free in this world. Everything has a price. I didn’t have the best relationship with my father, but he made it a point that I understand that nothing I wanted would ever be handed to me.”

Aurora loved to talk. Or maybe she just liked the sound of her own voice. She would be in for a rude awakening tomorrow when her voice would be gone. Already raw as it is, if she kept this pace up it would be gone within two hours. Four at most. It makes the corner of Jet’s mouth twitch with delight. 

Aurora pauses her yammering. “Something I said tickle your fancy?”

“I was just thinking you had a lovely voice.” Jet leans away from her and turns back for his stool. He pauses. “You never answered my question.”

“What question? I don’t recall you ever asking me anything.”

Ah, the talking was a distraction. Whoever Aurora really is she’s quite the character. 

“I asked: what happened to make you want to die?” He’s met with silence. Jet nods and crosses the room. He resumes his seat next to the fire and pot of stew. They had but three shriveled carrots and a quarter head of cabbage left to split three ways. It needed a protein, but regardless it’s come together rather nicely…

Another twenty minutes creeps by. Jet looks up to check on Aurora and finds her eyes closed. Whether she’s actually asleep or pretending to be is not his concern. Watching her chest rise and fall is. 

She looks so small lying on the cot. With such a big mouth she must be quite the showrunner at parties. She just about talked circles around Jet, and he has the sneaking suspicion she would if he let her. 

Her bright and bold red hair is what allowed Jet to spot her in the blizzard. He had been walking back to the small Hanataba Cabin carrying a frail rabbit for the stew when he saw what he first thought was a dahlia. Dahlia’s growing along the tracks were not uncommon, but they tended to sprout sporadically and wither quickly. Upon further investigation seeing that it was in fact, a person not a flower, he dropped the rabbit and scooped the woman into his arms. He hadn’t tried to sprint through the snow in years. Once he got her settled in the cot and addressed her frostbite as best they could, he sent his Associate away to forge for roots. They always had better luck at it than he did. 

And now here they are. Aurora shivers. She clenches her teeth revealing a smile missing a few teeth and the rest filed to dull points. Perhaps they were razor-sharp some years ago. 

The door to the cabin creeks open and a gust of billows in. It nearly sweeps his Associate off balance but they hold their ground. Aurora jerks and tilts her head as much as she can to peer at them as they throw their body against the door to jam it closed. 

“Goddess! It’s colder than Pluto out there!” They remove their bag and toss it towards Jet. He catches it mid-air and rummages through it to pull out whatever goods they managed to find. Mostly roots. A single rogue mushroom… and acorns. Lots and lots of acorns. 

“I told you to stop scavenging for acorns.” Jet looks up at their Associate.

They hum, unwrapping their layered scarves. White hair spills down around their shoulders in long dreads. “Did you?”

“Yes. Last year when we met up at this cabin, I told you the cabbage tasted bad with the acorns.”

“And I seem to recall telling you the acorns tasted bad with the cabbage. I like acorn stew.” They approach Aurora’s cot and quickly pull off their goggles to wink at her. “My my, look who’s alive! How do you feel?”

“Never been better,” she rasps. “I feel like I can run a marathon. Sign me up for the next triathlon.” 

They laugh heartily while Jet sets about adding their forged goods to the stew. 

“A pretty face and a sense of humor. You’ve earned two points in my book. Do you have a name by chance?”

“Nobody that matters anymore.” At this, Jet does allow himself to smile. With his back turned at least neither of them can see his expression. 

“Ah, that got you to smile now, didn’t it Big Guy?” Well, at least Aurora couldn’t have known. He’s worked with his Associate for too long now. They know each other like two sides of the same coin. A loud thunk and Jet is reminded that they stashed their instrument under Aurora’s cot in a haste to address her injuries. “Well then Ms-Nobody-That-Matters, can’t you tell me who you were when you did?”

“Depends on who you are I suppose. Your Associate over there said you stole something very important from Hades. And based off those bandages on your hands, he was telling the truth.” Aurora hums setting off a chain reaction of humming around the room. Jet turns to face the both of them. Their Associate has made themself plenty comfortable on the ground in front of Aurora.

“What else did he tell you? Because my Associate was telling the truth. I did steal something important. I stole fire from the King.” 

“Why in Goddess name would you do that? You must either be incredibly smart to do such a dumb thing, have a death wish, or love to play stupid games.” 

They smile and Jet’s stomach drops. He never liked that smile. “Silver-tongued... I like you. Pleased to make your acquaintance Ms-Nobody, call me M’tendere. And you’d be right– about everything. Work for the Crown for as long as I have and you’ll do just about anything to push some buttons.”

“What, no title like your Associate the Unnatural Disaster?” 

They shake their head and reach out to brush a hand through Aurora’s hair. “‘Fraid not. Why’d you tell her that anyway, Jet? You haven’t gone by that in years.”

“Not within the last century yes. I needed to build trust with Aurora. Showing her my hand was the easiest thing to do.”

“Oh darling– it’s Buddy actually.” Aurora– or rather, Buddy– blinks sympathetically towards Jet. “I’m sorry for deceiving you.” 

“Don’t apologize to the Big Guy. Ever.” M’tendere strums the strings on their instrument. “Big Guy doesn’t think he’s worth apologies.” If it came from anyone else Jet might have been slightly hurt. Coming from M’tendere though it's just the truth. They pluck a few notes absent-mindedly humming the same tune they always do.

“M’tendere doesn’t apologize to me. Whether you do or not is your decision to make, Buddy.” Buddy… Buddy with the red hair… Jet’s eyes widen as a confounding puzzle from four months ago slots together. “Buddy… Buddy Aurinko? You're Palomine's daughter." It’s not a question. It’s a fact. A fact just like how Jet doesn’t accept apologies from M’tendere. 

Buddy opens her mouth to speak and without looking up M’tendere cuts in, "He's dead."

She scoffs, "No that can't be. I just saw him last year. I got a letter from him four months ago–"

"And now four months later,” Jet reigns the conversation away from M’tendere before they can run it. Having one person around to do all the talking was headache enough. He enjoyed Buddy’s chatter though, M’tendere’s less so. “We’re telling you he's dead. Trust me. He would not stop begging for his life. He even bargained for it with yours."

The warm atmosphere falls cold. The small fire that Jet has continued to tend to crackles and pops. M'tendere gets up and leaves their guitar on the ground. They get up to rummage through a cupboard, busying themself with a set of metal tools and glass bottles on a shelf. Buddy rubs the thin sheet covering her between two fingers.

"How do you know all this?"

"It's our job," M'tendere turns to face her. "The Big Guy and I lead lost souls down to Hades. We've been at this for a while now."

An abrupt laugh erupts from the cot. It breaches Buddy's mouth and sounds more like a wheeze then a laugh. More like a strangled sob then a breath. Jet glances at M'tendere. They share a long look and exchange a loose shrug. By the time Buddy gathers herself she closes her eyes and presses her lips together in a thin line. Her shoulders begin to shake.

"You should've let me take his place. You should've led me to Hadestown..."