#this has been a haplo appreciation post

[deathgatesideblog]

We don't talk about Haplo standing between Xar and Alfred enough

Like. Obviously the most important thing in that moment is that Haplo has to stop Xar from trying his reverse sundering bullshit.

But it is also very much about Xar being fully prepared to kill Alfred, and Haplo knowing exactly how little Alfred's life is worth to Xar in this situation, because he knows Xar better than anyone, and he also knows that however little Xar values Haplo's life it's at least enough for him to try talking to Haplo before attacking him-- which he also very much knows Xar will do, in the end.

And ugh Haplo listening to Xar talk about his kid, about Marit, about how he "serves" a Sartan now, and through all of this needling he just. Stands his ground.

[cosmik-homo]

Thought Numero Uno: We've been here before. You know my stance on Alfred liking cooking, and on food as both a love language of caring for his family and loved ones, and an act of engagement in cultural heritage (that he needs so much). You've heard me talk about Haplo sitting in the kitchen looking at him cook, and Alfred asking him to taste test his latest attempt at a half remembered recipe he used to love, and kisses that taste of cherry sauce. You know my basic agenda.

Thought Numero Dos: Marit and Haplo hunting together in their youthful relationship, finding opportunities to brush hands through the different steps of skinning and cooking, cherishing the company and the simple connection of working together and completing each other's thoughts. Them doing the same post canon gardening, sharing quips over planting holes, leaving dirt smudges on each other's faces as they can't resist small kisses, cuz they're so happy to be together and at peace, with a home and a family to care for...

Thought Numero Tres: Maybe Alfred has been so easy to faint all this while for a reason. Marit sits down next to him in a squatter camp, holding two bowls of some stew or another. "A slice of bread is not a meal," she states, and he puts down his book and thankingly takes her offering. Their mealtime chat in the edges of firelight might be quite awkward, but the care it signifies is greatly appreciated.

Thought numero Cuatro: A small figure calls down the road to where Haplo, Marit and Vasu are discussing some aspects of resettlement: "Gran'pa says dinner is served in twenty minutes exactly, and he'd much rather you bring the headsman along then let it cool again!". Or, Haplo knocks lightly on the half open door to Alfred's study. "Have you eaten today at all?" Alfred looks around from his books for the first time in a few hours, realizing how far his candle sherinked, and Haplo sighs and nods his head, half imitating Alfred's notorious Tounge Clickings Of Caring Disapproval. Kids sent with packages and notes to working parents or training siblings.

Thought Numero Cinco: ok listen I wrote a ficlet,,, on accident,, slice of life post-canon fluff, I guess? IDK how long it is (mobile) but I'm putting it under a cut anyways.

I think it starts, If I may so kindly project (but also LOOK it's expected from canon ok??), With Alfred's motorics interrupting his comfort-cooking-day plans. Something spills or burns or falls apart or cuts his finger or just escapes his grasp or just has plain ridiculous expectations that make him angrily mutter about reading ahead before he starts, or letting all yolk-seperation techniques burn in a fiery pit of doom. Whatever it is, it catches Haplo's attention. "Do you need some help?" The patryn has taken over small cooking operations for him before, when low spoons or long-rough-day breakdowns caught up with him at the wrong moment. Alfred makes a face and clearly prepares a denial, but what comes out is an apologetic "Yeah". "It's nothing much, Really," he sighs, "I just can't get this right". Haplo rolls up his sleeves, smiling reassuringly. "I'm-" "No need to apologize," he reminds, "I'll take over this and you do the next part."

It's a long recipe, and at some point a Rue wanders by. They observe quietly for a bit, and then step over, pointing and asking with that rigid practicality of many of the patryn kids: "Why are you doing that?"

Alfred begins to explain about heat, and pressure, and flavour absorption, and things his mother used to say about this or that. "You see? Now you try, exactly. And once we finish this we just have to coat them," he points, "and then they go inside the sauce Haplo is working on." Rue nods, and asks if they can do another (of course they can). Haplo smiles at Alfred over the child’s head, feeling his pride through their bond.

A bit later Marit comes in, dropping her jacket on a chair.

"What are we doing?"

Alfred explains the dish.

“I don't see any of those," she quips, already standing by Haplo's shoulder to look (and brushing her fingers on the side of his neck).

"That's because I haven't gotten to them yet," replies the sartan, without a bit of defensiveness, and it's clear he's grown used to her tone. "They're on the countertop there. This just needs to be done sooner if I- we, want to have this by dinner."

Marit nods and cleans her hands. "Vertical slices, or diced, or what?" Alfred turns to her with a surprised smile. "Rough dices will do," he says, and his eyes shine with a bright look that makes Marit's own lips twitch for a second, in a burst of a smile, and she starts loudly working her knife. “Haplo, even I don’t take that long to cut herbs. Did you put enough butter?”

"I told you I did, and as a matter of fact I’m practically done here. You’re feeling like head-servant again? " Jokes Haplo, knwing Alfred will know what he means. Alfred chuckles and nods, taking a breath. "A bit, yes. You’re right, of course.” 

“Speaking of orders- would you come beat this for me? My hands do grow tired, and I need to check on that sauce of yours anyways."

Haplo grins and makes way. As Alfred and Rue take over the stovetop buisness, He shuffles his way to Marit’s side in a series of sneaky steps, still dutifully stirring his bowl, even if somewhat slowly. “Hey,” he starts quietly, “How was your meeting?”

“It was fine. Vasu had some idea, but I’ll tell you later. Is he alright?”

“Oh, very, it’s none of that. It just kind of... Happened, I guess.” 

Marit nods seriously, turning and chopping at her board. “That’s good.” she shoots Rue a glance, lost in thought. “Good.”

Haplo smiles, and puts his head on her shoulder. She looks at him for a long moment, smiling, and shuffles closer. They don’t need words. In a moment she places down her knife, he absentmindedly scrawls a rune on the bowl to perserve it as is and places it down. Usually Marit would instinctively judge the wasteful use of magic, but today that voice inside her seems more distant- the idea that life can be different has grown more tangible than ever in this little bubble. The old ways will never go away, but there is no need to think of them when she could be holding Haplo’s arms, kissing him- in the new ways, with time to spare.

Over where he stands, Alfred notices and smiles wordlessly. 

-