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trensu · 6 months

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I set myself a goal to have this fic finished and postedon ao3 by Halloween. As you can tell, I have failed miserably since it's neither finished or posted. In my defense, my hands were in much more pain than usual for most of October and so far November's not looking so great either.

Still, I feel kind of shitty about missing my goal, so I decided to post the first couple of scenes here. This fic is part of the Hawkins Halfway House series and we'll be meeting Billy in it. Enjoy!

Eddie was enjoying a quiet, little Horrors-free day with House. He’d dropped off Max and the Sinclair siblings with Steve in the morning since they hadn’t been able to hang out with Dustin and El for longer than any of the little Horrors deemed acceptable. El had been living with Steve for about a year now, and Dustin nearly twice that long. The transition hadn’t been as painful as expected but the kids were not used to being apart from each other, so an arrangement was reached that every other weekend, the kids could spend the night together either at House or at Junior.

This weekend, the kids had opted to stay at Junior with Steve. Depending on how things went, they might stay longer seeing as the kids were on some extended human holiday weekend as of the night before. If that happened, then Eddie planned on having some slow lazy mornings. However, it was now past lunchtime and he really needed to restock their stores of red meat, thanks to the pair of werewolf cubs in his care. He had very quickly become the local butcher’s favorite customer because of them.

Eddie had just about convinced himself to get going and be a responsible adult when the phone rang. Eddie made his way over to where House decided to keep the phone hooked up this week. He leaned against the wall, already fiddling with the phone cord, as he answered.

“Hawkins Halfway–”

“EDDIE,” Dustin screeched over the phone. “You have to come over right now. Steve is DYING.”

“What?” Eddie asked, bolting upright from where he had slouched. He heard the voices of the other kids over the line.

“He is bleeding. Blood should stay inside humans,” El said seriously.

“Bleeding? Where? What happened?” Eddie asked, resting the phone between his shoulder and ear to free up his hands. He got a bit tangled in the cord in his hurried searching of his pockets for his keys.

“Guys,” Steve’s voice broke through. “Guys, I’m fine. Oh god, Dustin, who are you calling? What did I say about using the phone? Junior, what did I tell you about letting the kids use the phone?”

“This IS an emergency!” Dustin protested, loudly.

“There’s so much blood,” Lucas could be heard in the background. “It’s like that time I ate a rabbit just before the moon set.”

“See, Eddie? HE’S DYING!” Dustin shouted directly into the receiver.

“You called Eddie? Dustin, give me the phone,” Steve said. After a brief scuffle, and what sounded like the handset being dropped to the ground only to get hastily picked up, Steve was speaking directly. His voice sounded funny. “Eddie, hi!”

“What happened? Dustin thinks you’re dying,” Eddie said.

“I’m fine! Nobody’s dying,” Steve said. Then, presumably to the kids, “Give me some room, I don’t want to drip on any of you.”

“Steve, are you bleeding?” Eddie asked, his worry mixing with irritation.

“Yeah, but I’m okay. It’s a bloody nose,” Steve said, which explained why he sounded weird.

“And a bloody mouth,” Lucas added.

“His eye’s busted up, too!” Erica said loud enough for Eddie to hear.

“Yes, thank you for that,” Steve said to the kids in that bitchy tone Eddie secretly enjoyed hearing. “Go watch some TV while I talk to Eddie. I promise I won’t fall over dead.”

“I’m coming over,” Eddie decided out loud.

“You don’t have to, honestly, the kids are freaking out over nothing,” Steve insisted.

“You’re due for a home inspection anyway. See you in ten.”

Eddie hung up before Steve could protest.

–

Eddie didn’t have a chance to knock on the door before it slammed open and he was swarmed by the kids.

“He’s in the kitchen,” Lucas told him.

“We couldn’t remember how much blood humans are supposed to keep inside,” El said.

“Yeah, so Dustin freaked out,” Erica snorted derisively.

Dustin started to argue that his concern was legitimate, but Eddie pushed past all of them to get to the kitchen. There, Eddie nearly swallowed his tongue because Steve was indeed in the kitchen. Shirtless. And bent over the sink. The steam rising from the running water dampened his chest hair and made his skin dewy. The muscles in Steve’s arms flexed distractingly as he scrubbed almost violently at a bloodied shirt.

Eddie didn’t have much time to enjoy the view because as soon as he finished processing the vision, he caught sight of Steve’s face. He immediately understood why the children panicked. Steve’s face was a mess. Steve had done his best to clean up most of the blood, but his nostrils were still rimmed with some, and the split lip started to bleed again when Steve looked up at Eddie. The skin around his eye was puffy and bruised.

“It looks worse than it is,” Steve said immediately. “No concussion!”

Eddie covered the distance in a few long strides. He reflexively reached out to touch Steve’s face, then pulled back when he realized what he’d been about to do. Eddie had been adamantly ignoring the small crush he was harboring for his kids’ foster parent. Unfortunately, it meant he had to forcibly ignore opportunities to touch Steve as much as possible. In this case, it resulted in Eddie fluttering his hands uselessly around Steve.

“What happened?”

“First, you should know that I handled it and I was already planning on calling you to give you a rundown of the situation. I wanted to clean myself up a bit before calling but that didn’t go as planned, obviously.”

“Steve.”

“I’m fine, really. I’m more worried about Max.” At Steve’s words, Eddie’s whole body tensed.

“What happened to Max?” Eddie asked before it occurred to him, “She wasn’t with the other kids. Where is she?”

“She ran to her room as soon as we got home. She’s kind of shaken up. I haven’t had the chance to talk to her about what happened because the others saw me and were freaking out the whole ride home.”

“I can talk to her,” Eddie said immediately. Steve nodded as if he hadn’t expected anything different, and began to explain what happened.

“I took the kids to the park nearby to burn off some energy before dinner,” Steve said. “Max stayed in the parking lot because she wanted to practice using her skateboard.”

While Steve spoke, Eddie maneuvered himself around the familiar kitchen. He grabbed a clean kitchen towel and dug out an icepack from the freezer. After wrapping it up, he handed it to Steve, who delicately placed it over his eye.

Steve continued to explain how he made sure he settled in a spot that would give him a good view of both the parking lot and the playground. Everything had been going well. All the kids were having fun, although Max had tumbled a couple of times while trying to find her balance on the skateboard. Then Steve had been distracted.

Erica had gotten a bit too into a game of chase. She had started to get a little wolfy around the edges. Lucas had immediately shielded her from view by throwing his hoodie at her face. Steve guided her a farther away from the playground to somewhere more quiet and secluded to give her a moment to calm down. Once she had collected herself, she and Steve rejoined everyone at the playground. Steve had given the playground a quick lookover to make sure everyone was still accounted for, but when he’d looked for Max over at the parking lot, a man was with her.

Steve had been too far away to hear what the man was saying, but the man was way too close to her. Max had frozen in place. If the unknown man approaching her hadn’t been alarming enough, seeing her freeze like that set off all sorts of bells. While Max wasn’t Steve’s foster kid, he knew her well enough by now to know that, when cornered, Max's first instinct was to fight, not flee or freeze.

“I ran over there as soon as I saw what was happening,” Steve told Eddie, as if Eddie would ever doubt him. Steve had a protective streak to rival a werewolf. “By the time I got to them, he had grabbed her by the arm.”

Steve had shoved the man away from her the moment he had gotten within reach. From there it had devolved into a fistfight that left Steve in his current state. Thankfully the other kids were too wrapped up in their playground games to realize what was happening at the time but one of the other parents at the playground had seen and used the nearby payphone to call the police. The cops showed up to break up the fight. As far as Steve was aware, the man who had grabbed Max was taken away by the cops. They took some statements from witnesses, but Steve, to Eddie’s utter lack of surprise, insisted on going home with his kids rather than going down to the station.

Eddie was grateful for that. He had seen how cops treat people they consider less than human, even when they didn't have an ounce of supernatural blood in them. Little Horrors in distress were not always great at keeping their human faces on.

Once Steve finished updating Eddie, he went to reassure the other kids while Eddie made his way to see Max. Eddie had barely stepped into the guest room Junior had made for Max before Max shot to her feet. She was very pale, made even more apparent by the dark red feathers that had sprouted through her hair and along her face. Her hands were rough and clawed.

“He found me,” Max said. “Billy found me. He tried to take me away.”

Eddie swore under his breath. It was just as he had suspected. He didn't think the cops would hold Billy for very long. He had to start planning a defense but first, he wanted to comfort Max, offer some reassurance. He stepped closer to her but slowed his movements at Max’s flinch. Instead, he redirected and leaned against the dresser close to Max. Her jaw was tense. She crossed her arms, clutching at her elbows.

“But he didn’t,” Eddie said firmly. “You’re still here. Steve stopped him and you’re safe.”

Max’s breath hitched.

“Is…is Steve mad at me?” Her claws dug into fabric at the elbows of her hoodie, nervously shredding it. “I have my backpack in the closet. I can leave. If he’s mad.”

“What? No, no, no, Max, Steve’s not mad at you. He’s worried, but he’d never get mad at you for something like this.”

Her voice dropped to a shamed whisper.

“But Billy hurt him so bad. He broke Steve’s face,” her breath hitched again, but she had yet to break into tears. It hurt Eddie to see her try so hard to keep it together. “It's all my fault, he’s going to be so mad.”

“Max Mayfield, listen to me,” Eddie said fiercely. “None of this is your fault. This is all on that hunter. Steve doesn’t blame you and he’s not mad at you.”

She gnawed at her lip, eyes cast down. She didn't believe him, he could tell.

"Billy's going to come back. He’ll hurt Steve again," Max said.

"If that happens, and I'm not saying it will!" Eddie said. Though he knew she was right about Billy. Billy was a stubborn, possessive, and angry man. "But if it does, it still wouldn't be your fault. He's a grown up making his own awful decisions, okay?"

"Okay," she said despondently, though she no longer sounded like she would break into tears.

"I need to let Steve know what to expect but he'll probably come up here after to check on you if you're okay with it."

Max nodded jerkily, not looking at him. Eddie suppressed a sigh. Max had been making so much progress, opening herself up more to others and getting attached to things that interested her. If Eddie hadn’t hated Billy already, the sight Max retreating into herself again because of his reappearance would’ve done it.

"Do you want to be alone? Or do you want some of your friends up here with you?" Eddie asked.

Max shrugged. Eddie glanced over at the unmade bed. The underneath looked darker than it probably should be. He smiled tentatively at Max.

"I think El is already under the bed, so if you want to be alone…"

An oozing black tendril squirmed out from underneath the bed to wrap gently around Max's ankle. Some of the stress that pinched Max’s expression eased at the touch. She easily dropped to the ground and scooched into the cramped space beneath the bed.

“You are safe, Max,” El’s voice hissed from the dark space.

Eddie left the room and closed the door quietly behind him. It was time to fill Steve in on some things he had hoped would never come up.

#trensu tells stories #hawkins halfway house for homeless horrors #i wanna say I'm about halfway done with the fic #but since my job has me typing 8hrs a day 5 days a week #ive stopped typing at all when off the clock in the hopes that the brief respite will give my hands some time to recover #they haven't hurt this bad in a LONG time and idk what's triggered it #but as soon as im physically able ill writing finish this fic and post it on ao3 #stranger things #steddie #hhh: tradition

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minne-cerbinna · 10 months

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I think quite often of the optional little dialogue tree that one can get about Yaevinn in TW2 with an imported save if one sides with Iorveth, and particularly of just how Iorveth describes Yaevinn

The dialogue prompt "I once knew another Scoia'tael - Yaevinn." will lead to the following exchange:

GERALT: I once met another Scoia'tael leader.

IORVETH: Yaevinn. I knew him. He had beautiful dreams and desperately wanted me to share them. Asked the same of you, I heard.

GERALT: You know a lot about me.

IORVETH: I try to know as much as I can - about everyone.

They'll elaborate a little further in this dialogue about how they both agree with Yaevinn's reasons and the fact that Yaevinn "saw combat and killing as poetry" which Iorveth deems unrealistic because "war is prose, with no place for beauty" (how poetic).

But the interesting part to me is the statement that Yaevinn had "beautiful dreams" and how he was this grand idealist, because this seems to be in contradiction with Yaevinn's characterisation. In his novel appearance, he argues against Toruviel's idealism as he proposes shooting the unarmed messenger. In TW1, Geralt refers to him in his journal as being "disillusioned", as well as being "a cynic and a pragmatist", neither of which seem to hold with Iorveth's account. While this can be credited to the fact that it's possible that Iorveth's past-tense statement of "I knew him" means that he hasn't seen Yaevinn in some time rather than, or at least in addition to, the implied death. He has perhaps not seen him since the Second Northern War, where they were both in the Vrihedd brigade, and Yaevinn could have grown more cynical since the Scoia'tael were betrayed by Dol Blathanna, his earliest characterisation is that of the novel canon, and he does not present a particular idealism that would reflect the notion that he is a dreamer.

It can be taken as a choice of characterisation, because for all that Yaevinn is disillusioned, he does have his hopes and desires for the future and his plans at Vizima, just as Iorveth has his hopes for Saskia and Vergen. He has these dreams, even if he tenders them close to his chest and puts the practical aspects first before he allows himself to have this hope. And I think that is a really interesting interpretation, to have this juxtaposition, that he can be both disillusioned and a dreamer, and that he chose a scant few, Iorveth, and then Geralt, to share in those precious dreams.

The notion of Yaevinn having these "beautiful dreams" is also very pertinent to his TW1 characterisation, I think, because there are optional dialogues in which Yaevinn tells the accounts of how he once lived among humans and believed in assimilation, that the humans would accept the elves if given enough time, only to be persecuted and harassed at length until he finally accepted that there was no place for him there, that there could be no assimilation, only annihilation. And even though he knows it is a hopeless fight, he still proceeds onward. He knows his people are dying, and he knows that if they do not act quickly, they will be well and truly doomed to extinction, but he is still trying to fight. That is, in and of itself, an expression of a dream for a better future, even if he thinks it hopeless, or, as Iorveth criticises, unrealistic.

Serious character analysis aside, I think that the absolute funniest interpretation of this dialogue is that it is not to be taken literally about Yaevinn's idealism or lack thereof, but rather as a euphemism -- taking "beautiful dreams" as a euphemism for queer romantic interest; hence "he had beautiful dreams and desperately wanted me to share them" is something like "he likes men and asked me to be his lover", "I hear he asked the same of you" thenceforth meaning something like "were you also his lover/do you also like men" (and the response "you know a lot about me" therefore indicating that he is correct in his judgement). There's like a whole rebellion going on but Iorveth is just checking out his options, y'know.

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