#honoria x rienna

[redwayfarers]

Wayfarer Week: Swords

Fandom: Wayfarer IF Ship: Honoria x Rienna Characters: Honoria Ionneon (OC), Rienna Cenric (OC), Thesor Sereno (OC) Rating: Gen Words: 660 New day, new @wayfarer-week prompt, this time swords! Huge thanks to bestie @just-eyris-things who graciously let me borrow Rienna for this one <3

“Cenric’s giving me a cursed sword,” Honoria says. “I asked him yesterday. He was very open about it.”

“What do you mean, cursed?” Rienna replies as she ties her hair. Or attempts to - by her own admission, she’s never been particularly good at it. It’s no matter though, because then Honoria can step in and tie it for her. There’s nothing softer and more intimate than tying a girl’s hair in her eyes, and she’s tied Thesor’s hair many, many times.

 Honoria lightly waves Rienna’s hands away. “Turn around,” she says and Rienna’s surprised oh makes something in her belly tighten. “Vanariel, I think. And it’s cursed in that a lot of its wielders died away from the Spire. Shit luck sword, more or less.”

“And Cenric’s giving it to you.”

“I will press him on why exactly he’s made that choice. You could help me out as well.” Honoria leans in to give a conspiratorial whisper in Rienna’s ear, all too aware of the warmth of her body near hers. Gods, how she wishes she could kiss her. “Maybe inquire after your own and then mention me, as if off-handedly, you know? You’re giving me this one, and what about Oria, something like that.”

Rienna licks her lips and looks at her shoes. “I could,” she agrees after a moment. In the snow, she’s a true splash of color. Honoria’s not any different, but where she has seaweed curls, Rienna has beautiful, purple tresses. Tresses whose cool tones fit against the snow much better than Honoria’s. Tresses she’s holding onto even after she’s done braiding them.

“Braid’s finished,” Honoria announces suddenly, feeling suddenly very, very stupid for reasons unknown to her. When Rienna turns to lean her back on the freezing fence once more, Honoria’s picking at the fur around her shoulders absently. “Thank you for the help with Vanariel, by the way. Figured the two of us would get this done faster– Thesor, what happened to your face?”

The elf in question merely shrugs. He wasn’t here a moment ago, but now he’s standing there, leaning against the fence alongside them. His right eye is purpling with a fresh bruise. “Master Sereno punched me.”

Both Honoria and Rienna stare. “They did that?”

“I was bad at dodging,” he adds, with the same tone from earlier. It’s forcefully detached and even, as if it’s practiced. Knowing him, it probably is. Vodena’s habits are just beaten too roughly into him still. “So, you wanted to tell me something about swords, Honoria?”

“Have you iced that?” Honoria doesn’t relent, grabbing him by the wrist. “Do I need to drag you to the infirmary?”

“I was curious about the sword,” he says softly. “I am fine, Honoria. Life of a Wayfarer will be far worse than one black eye.”

Honoria sighs and lets go of his wrist. She isn’t that older than him, but he feels like a kid to her sometimes, absolutely far too young to be this pragmatic about things.

“Maybe we could tell him while we go to the infirmary?” Rienna suggests. It’s unanimously accepted and Honoria takes it upon herself to lead on the familiar path to the infirmary. 

***

(Things were so simple back then, she thinks one night, many years later. He’s asleep beside her and her hands are still bloody from cleaning the red, angry line from a dagger that missed its mark in the ugliest way possible. He had a bruise then - now he’ll have a scar on the same eye for the rest of his life. Porphyrogenita, Vanariel renamed, lays on the ground beside her.

She hoped that the bad luck would avoid her by renaming the damn thing. But it seems that by doing so, she only managed to make it pass onto someone else.

Rienna’s somewhere in this big fucking world, Honoria isn’t even sure she’s alive. And Thesor’s just escaped death by a small margin.

Things were so simple back then.)