#riz-028 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lpmurphy · 2 days ago

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And Then There Was You

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One Two Three

Fic Summary: Who she once was became fuzzier as the years went on; blurrier around the edges, like a scope that was out of focus. But in all of the memories that remained hers, there was him.

Chapter Summary: Riz is cold. Vannak tries to help.

Three: Penguins and Honey Bees

EIGHT became nine. Then she was told she was ten, then eleven, until one day she woke up and was twelve.

Not only was she twelve, but she was cold.

Snow fell heavily through the woods around them, shining like silver in the slivers of moonlight that peeked through the dense trees. John had been thrilled - in his very John way - when it started to snow. It would cover their tracks, he explained. Keep their location hidden from the other team.

As far as Riz was concerned, the other team could drag them back to base by their ankles if it meant they didn’t have to be out in the freezing temperatures any longer. John’s moment of excitement was as fleeting as it was rare when Riz bumped Vannak’s hand with her own to sign that it only meant if the other team couldn’t find them, then they wouldn’t be able to find the other team, and somebody better find someone quick before her toes fell off.

Out of all the training they’d been subjected to over the years, survival training was her least favorite. Not that it made much of a difference anyway. She knew they didn’t quite care to hear her likes and dislikes, so she kept them to herself. Offering them up only seemed like a waste of breath and a sure fire way to end up in trouble. Most of the time, she enjoyed her training; tactical exercises, combat simulations, firearms proficiency, and their lectures with Deja were all parts of her day she’d grown to look forward to. But, if she had to pick something that she absolutely loathed, it was indubitably this.

The exercise was simple enough. They would drop them in the middle of nowhere with limited supplies, and the objective to find their way back before the other team found them instead. It was Kai’s favorite. Riz was fairly certain that they could drop Kai into the woods and leave her there forever, and she would live happily among the trees fashioning animal traps out of sharpened sticks and tracking prints through the mud. She, however, would not, and knew how to call this what it was in at least 130 different languages; bullshit. Toe numbing, ice cold, frozen bullshit.

The third night of the exercise passed the same as the previous they’d spent avoiding the other team - with little sleep in the aching cold. Riz laid on her back and closed her eyes, willing her muscles to relax long enough to allow her to force herself asleep, but each remained painfully stiff. Her toes were numb, her shoulders ached from miles of rucking through uneven terrain, and worst of all, she couldn’t get her nose warm, which frustrated her the most. She sank lower into her bedroll and pulled it up over her nose as the wind ripped through the trees again, but it did little to block the biting chill. She groaned. If there was anything she hated more than field exercise, it was being cold. She couldn’t recall a time when she ever enjoyed being cold. But those times became harder to recall, it seemed.

With a soft sigh, she let the thick fabric fall away from her face and watched a shriveled leaf that clung to a swaying branch flutter in the wind. Spartans didn’t complain, she reminded herself. Neither would she. She just wished someone bothered to ask.

A gust of frigid wind rustled the skeletal branches of the oak overhead and shook the leaf free. She watched it twist away, the gust whipping the few curls that escaped from her bun across her face. She didn’t lift her hand from where it gripped the inside of her bedroll to her chest to adjust it. She’d finally gotten her fingers warm enough not to hurt when she moved them, and she wasn’t going to risk it again because of a bit of hair. She puffed out a breath instead, her eyes fixed on the glimpses of deep purple skies between the branches, hoping to blow the few strands away. A small smile lifted her lips when the puff sent the few curls away from her face. With a pleased hum, she pulled her bedroll tighter around her and watched the thick flakes tumble down, dancing along the winds before they joined the thick shroud that covered everything around them.

She closed her eyes and let her shoulders drop with a soft exhale. They would move out at dawn, and she and Vannak would swap guard duties with John and Kai before then. She needed to find some sleep, no matter how difficult it proved to be. She would rather be on guard duty, she thought. At least the movement would keep her warm.

She inhaled deeply, allowing the cold air to fill her lungs before she exhaled slowly, relaxing her shoulders, her chest, her legs. She continued to breathe, willing the tension that knotted her body to loosen with each she took. She could do this, she told herself. This was hardly the most difficult thing she’d ever done. She could manage this.

A new gust blew through and pushed the few curls back across her face, tickling her nose. With a huff, she turned over on her side. At least this way she was facing the wind, she figured.

“You should be sleeping.”

She blinked against the wind, looking up to where Vannak sat upright with his back pressed against the tree trunk. He watched the treeline while he absently piled the snow beside him into a small tower. She didn’t know how he could do that, especially without his gloves on, but Vannak had always run warm. Where she couldn’t stand the cold, he relished in it. It felt familiar, he would say. He was never sure why. She didn’t question it. She never understood why things felt familiar to her either, or why it always left her with a twist in her chest that she missed as soon as it was gone. He glanced down at her for a moment. She watched his hand twitch beside him before he gripped another handful of snow and added it to his tower, returning his gaze to the treeline.

“So should you,” she whispered.

The moonlight through the swaying branches threw shadows across his face like wisps of smoke. She watched them throw patterns across his profile for a moment before Vannak’s eyes pulled from the treeline to look down at her again. Something about the way he looked at her made her skin itch like it had suddenly become too small. It wasn’t the studying look Halsey would scan them all with, or the assessing way Mendez watched them all that made her feel like she had done something wrong. He just looked at her.

He lifted both hands to his mouth to puff hot air into his palms, and she wondered if she was personally witnessing the first time she had ever seen him admit that he was cold. Instead, he reached across towards her. She flinched, anticipating icy fingers on her skin, but his hands were warm when he brushed her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. He was always warm. Maybe that was the reason she pressed her cheek into his hand, hoping to absorb some of his ever present heat through osmosis before he pulled away.

He dropped his hands into his lap and looked up again.

“You had hair in your face,” he explained.

“Thanks,” she pushed herself up on to an elbow. “Why are you still awake? We have to switch off soon.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said plainly.

She pushed herself, eyebrows knit together in confusion. She watched him return to his snow tower without acknowledgement towards the bizarre statement he so plainly made. Usually, he was the first one asleep. Julia would often joke that Vannak could fall asleep standing up, and on a couple of occasions, he had done just that. But he just sat straight, watching the treeline.

He must have felt her eyes on him, because he shrugged and added, “I like to listen out here.”

A noise ripped from the woods. A low howl that echoed against the trees, making it feel like it was coming from every direction. Vannak sat up straighter at the sound.

“Did you hear that?” He asked breathlessly.

Riz pushed herself up to sit against the tree beside him. Her shoulder brushed against his as she searched the treeline for the source of the noise.

“What was that?”

Before he could answer, another howl rumbled from the trees. She looked around, unable to locate it or determine if it was nearby. The sound trailed off, followed by a series of throaty clicks.

“Sounds like a wolf,” she said.

He grinned like she said something ridiculous and shook his head, “It isn’t. It’s a raven. They’ll mimic the howls to attract wolves to an animal carcass. Their beaks aren’t strong enough to break through flesh and muscle on their own, so the wolf shows up and does all the work, and they get dinner without having to lift a talon.”

She laughed softly, “How lazy.”

“Not lazy,” he chuckled. “Just good at delegating.”

She laughed again. The same call echoed from the trees, nearly indiscernible from the real thing. Her shoulder pressed against his again when she looked up at him, bringing with it a brief moment of warmth before she shifted.

“How can you tell?” She asked. “It sounds the same to me.”

He sat up and turned to look at her like she had said something stupid, which made her grateful that her cheeks were already flushed from the cold. “It’s a completely different pitch, Red. Honestly, can you not hear that?”

“Really?” She sat up as well, straining to listen to the sound again, but she heard no difference. When she returned his puzzled gaze with her own, concern creased his face as he watched her. The earnest way he watched her with sheer bafflement made her wonder if she needed to report for a med exam when they eventually returned. But all concerns for her hearing faded when his lips twitched up.

“No,” he laughed. He blocked her fist before it could connect with her shoulder and pointed to the treeline. “It’s in the tree right over there. I’ve been watching it for a while.”

She rolled her eyes, ignoring his pleased laughter, and leaned back against the tree. She squinted into the dark, “Where?”

“Right there! Look!”

Nothing but inky blackness and the shadowed silhouettes of pines swam into her vision, “I can’t see it!”

“Right there,” he said exasperatedly, continuing to gesture into the trees. She tilted her head to follow his finger. “Not there! Look at where I’m pointing.”

“I am!” She said indignantly. She followed the trajectory of his finger and shook her head,“I still don’t see anything.”

With a huff, he grabbed the side of her bedroll and tugged her to him sharply. Her shoulder collided against his chest, her face nearly flush with his so that she was looking down his outstretched arm. She was immediately welcomed by his warmth, which she felt climb all the way into her cheeks.

“Look,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

She followed his finger to where a glossy black bird sat perched in one of the pines. It shifted on the bough with a series of guttural clicks before it opened its beak and another howl pierced the dark. Vannak dropped his hand back into his lap and she huffed out a laugh at the sound.

“Good to know you’re that easy to trick.” His own chuckle rumbled in his chest against her shoulder. His fingers lifted hesitantly, the same as he would before he began to sign, like he was thinking of the best words. Instead, they toyed with the snow again. He shook his head with an amused smirk.“Really, Red. That was too easy.”

“That was mean.” She did her best to sound angry with him, but the shake of laughter in her voice betrayed her. She never stayed annoyed with him for long. She hadn’t realized that her shoulder was still pressed to his chest, her cheek just brushing his own. A tinge of disappointment fluttered in her chest when she pulled herself from the glow of his body heat to press her back against the tree again. It was the warmest she’d felt in days.

“What can I say?” He shrugged, flashing a grin down at her. “I’m a mean guy.”

His hand lifted from the snow to fiddle with the zipper of her bedroll. She watched him roll the metal over in his fingers, pressing each of his fingertips to it before he would twist it again. They were both silent for a moment, their eyes fixed on the bird with its strange calls. Her eyes pulled from the bird to look up at him. Even sitting down, he was still a head taller than her. A small smile lifted his lips as he watched the bird in a moment of contentment that felt few and far between. They didn’t get many. Something about it made her mouth tug up too. She lowered her head to his shoulder, searching for some of the warmth that had seeped from her when she pulled away.

“No,” she said softly. “You’re not.”

He tensed, his whole body stiffening the moment her head rested against his shoulder. He looked down, that same soft look that she didn’t quite have a word for crossing his face momentarily before he looked up again. The wind pushed through the trees and rattled the branches. The raven ruffled its wings with an annoyed croak before it took to the skies. Vannak’s gaze followed it upwards above the trees before it turned on the currents, and disappeared into the dark. The gust dislodged her hair again, but before she could untangle her hands from the grip she kept around the heavy fabric, warm fingers brushed against her face.

That unrecognizable look remained on his face as he tucked her hair behind her ear. His fingers didn’t move from her face. She watched him, trying to read the expression he wore when he traced his thumb along her cheek like he was trying to commit the shape of it to memory. She couldn’t find a name for it when his eyes fell to her lips, nor did she want to. It didn’t need to be analyzed or identified, or translated until she could find a meaning within the brush of fingertips. She just knew that she liked it. No one looked at her quite like he did.

He cleared his throat. His eyes pulled from hers to return to the skies, his hand dropping into his lap, that moment of contentment fading away. The hard expression he usually wore returned as he inched away from her and left her with a sinking feeling that settled into her stomach like a heavy stone. She told herself it was because she found herself cold once again, not because she was just starting to notice the different shades of brown in his eyes before he looked away. She pressed her back against the tree again, feeling colder when her own eyes returned to the sky.

“What else have you seen?” She asked, desperate to fill the silence that had fallen between them.

It seemed to do the trick. She leaned back against the tree, watching the thick flakes that tumbled down while she listened to him list the different animals he’d spotted between the trees. They twisted and turned gracefully, spinning like ballerinas dancing along the winds before they came to rest on the forest floor. That familiar ache returned to her chest at the sight of their dance. She wasn’t sure why. She was never sure why. It never made it any less worth feeling, she’d decided. She pulled her eyes from the skies to watch the treeline, focusing instead on the barrage of information that followed each animal he listed; a few deer. An eagle. A fox peeking out at them from the brush curiously.

“They remind me of you,” he said, turning his head from where it rested against the tree to look down at her, “Foxes.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “They just do.”

A cold wind swept through the trees again, biting against her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. She let out a small gasp, clutching her arms tightly to her chest as the chill settled deeper. The trees swayed overhead, whispering to one another as it whirled through the boughs, sending the snow that had collected upon them tumbling to the forest floor. Collapsing against the weight of itself, snow tumbled from the branch above her and toppled onto her shoulder. She cursed under her breath and shook it off before she shifted away from the cover of branches. Vannak looked over when her shoulder collided with his own, watching her reluctantly remove her hand from her bedroll to brush it away. Another shiver wracked her body, the puff of her exasperated sigh visible between them. He pushed her hand aside gently to brush it away himself, allowing her to pull her hand back into the limited warmth of her own body heat.

He kicked his legs out of his own bedroll and stood, shaking off the snow that clung to it, “Here. You can use mine, too. I’m warm enough.”

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. She knew the cold didn’t gnaw at him the way it did her, but no one was completely immune to freezing temperatures. Not even him. The frosty air stung her cheeks as she pulled her hand from her bedroll to push his own back toward him, her fingers stiff with cold. “I’m okay,” she added, her voice steady despite the shiver that betrayed her.

He raised his eyebrows, skepticism creasing his features, “I can hear your teeth chattering.”

“I’m fine,” she offered him a tight smile, though she wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist with a gentle tug back towards the ground, tilting her head towards where he had been sitting. He watched her warily before he lowered himself back down to sit beside her. She nodded her head towards the underbrush, “What else have you seen out here?”

He added to the list of the different creatures he’d seen, along with the ones he’d heard from deeper within the thicket of trees that surrounded them. A variety of owls; each of which had distinct hoots that made them easy to identify, he explained. She didn’t believe it. An owl was an owl, wasn’t it? But she listened anyway, shivering as the cold crept back into her limbs. His eyes flicked to her again when he felt her shift to watch her tuck herself deeper into her bedroll. He cleared his throat, still piling and shaping the snow beside him.

“You know, a lot of animals actually huddle together for warmth. They’ll share their body heat in order to survive extreme conditions,” he stated. Something edged his voice that she hadn’t ever heard from him before he trailed off, the misshapen tower toppling over under the weight of itself. He glanced over at her before he cleared his throat and added,“Of course, penguins do it. Everyone knows that. But so do animals outside of arctic climates, like flying squirrels and honey bees. Actually, honey bees will gather over a patch of honeycomb to keep larvae warm enough during the winter. They generate the heat equivalent to a forty watt-.”

“Get to your point,” she interrupted.

He rolled his eyes, earning a small smirk from her as he glanced down. His lips twitched into a smirk of his own before he looked back at the trees. The moment of amusement fell away, settling into a straight expression like he was thinking, weighing his next move. He lifted his arm, but paused, his hesitation hanging in the air before he finally wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She stiffened at the contact, but the heat that radiated from him enveloped her once her back pressed against his chest. For a moment, the chill of the night seemed to disappear.

“My point is,” he murmured, his voice low, “if you don’t want to freeze out here, we have to stay close."

His breath tickled her cheek, just as warm as the rest of him. She sat stiffly, not allowing herself to lean into him, his arm still wrapped around her. She knew he was right - it was one of the first things they were taught about survival training.

“I told you,” she muttered, although finding it difficult to remain steadfast in her protests. “I’m not cold.”

“Bull. You’re shivering,” He pulled at her shoulder again, his voice a soft whisper, still edged with that tone she couldn’t identify in any language she knew. “Come here.”

She let him guide her back against him until she was pressed to his chest. It felt like she put her back to a roaring fire, a comforting feeling that made her almost feel too warm. That too warm feeling settled into her belly when she lowered her head to his shoulder once more, waiting for him to pull away - but he didn’t. She swallowed down that fluttering feeling before it could grow any further. This is just what they did, she told herself; they watched out for each other. He’d do the same thing for Kai or Nora, though she wasn’t sure why the thought of one of them pressed to him in the same way made her stomach clench. They all took care of each other, watching out for each other as often as they could. Vannak had always watched out for her; like when John and Sam had to pull him off of Karim after he broke his nose in the showers because he made fun of her freckles. Or how he always swapped with whoever was assigned rear guard during tactical simulations so he could cover her, and slipped her whatever bit of chocolate he got from his MREs during field exercises. Siblings, they called each other. Brothers. Sisters. She assumed that’s just what siblings did for each other. But Vannak didn’t feel like a brother. He never had. She wasn’t sure what he felt like. She just knew that it was different.

A soft chatter floated in with the winds. She looked back to the tree where the bird had sat without lifting her head from his shoulder.

“Is that another one of your ravens?”

“No, that’s a fox, I think,” he said. She could feel the vibrations of his words, a buzzy feeling that tickled her cheek. “They’re really interesting, too.”

“Yeah?” She yawned. “Why?”

She listened as he explained how the animals used magnetic fields to hunt, his voice a steady, low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her. She hadn’t realized her eyes had drifted shut until his nudge brought her back. He lifted a finger to his lips when she blinked up at him before he lifted two fingers to his cheek and pointed them towards the underbrush. Look. She followed the gesture through the haze of snow to where a pair of glowing eyes stared back. A smile spread across her face as she caught a flash of copper moving through the underbrush before it vanished again.

As his arm dropped, he draped it over her instead of pulling it away, the low rumble of his voice a gentle drone against their quiet surroundings. She turned over, pressing herself against his chest, determined to soak up every bit of his warmth against the night’s chill. He fell silent when she turned with a soft sigh and pressed her cheek to his chest, listening to rapid pounding of his heart under her ear. His arm stayed firm around her, hesitating only briefly before he draped his own bedroll over their laps.

He must have been cold too, she assumed, when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders again and pulled her closer. It must have been why he tucked his chin against her head as he spoke in a low whisper about the owls he heard in the trees. Like penguins; just sharing their body heat against the cold. A necessity for their survival. She wondered if penguins or flying squirrels or honeybees felt safe the way she did when they huddled together. They must, she figured. It was the safest she’d felt in the woods since they arrived.

She meant to ask him if he was cold too, but she was asleep before he finished explaining the vocalizations and ear morphology of ural owls.

#halo fanfic #halo tv show #halo fanfiction #silver timeline #Riz-028 #Vannak-134 #Riz-028/Vannak-134

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