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Afterlife was…different than what Hearthstone had expected.
He’d heard tales of dark, cold, desolate Helheim. The place where ghosts roamed, that even gods lived in fear of. The place of no return. And perhaps it was that, on the surface at least. His afterlife wasn’t, though, and neither were those of the people who surrounded him, souls of those who hadn’t been recognized by the gods to spend their death days in the wondrous halls of the Aesir or Vanir, Valhalla or Folkvangr. Instead, Helheim was mostly a continuation of life, where people ate, drank, fought. It wasn’t as nice, as honorable as Valhalla, and it wasn’t a realm of punishment, it was simply a place for mortals to spend their afterlives much as they spent their breathing days.
Something was missing from Hearth’s, though. Someone.
And maybe, he thought, as he got up to continue his century-long search for the missing piece, that what was kept him going this long, the absence of the soft glow, the warmth of the person he’d missed and loved with flames that licked at his still heart for over a hundred years, maybe double; he was beginning to lose count. Maybe it was the fire burning in his chest that got him to get up and scan the people every day, or at least what he thought were days- there wasn’t much difference, down in Helheim, between morning and night- waiting until he could bask in that person’s presence and soak in their compassion, their gentleness, their smile that he’d melt for every single time he’d been given the gift of seeing it.
For his love hadn’t dwindled down to embers, hadn’t faded into low candlelight, but still roared and engulfed him in oranges of passion and joy and reds of love and adoration and yellows of longing and blues of sorrow, sorrow and regret that he hadn’t acted in life, that his love still roamed the mortal realms thinking he was forgotten, thinking that he’d left Hearthstone’s mind, body, and soul, when in truth he only blazed in them stronger, fueling Hearth’s thoughts, his actions, his emotions, his tears that were nowhere close enough to dousing the flames because they were in him, a part of him, the scorching heat from his spirit that failed to make it to his frigid physical corpse.
And he was sorry. Oh, he was so, so sorry for leaving. He wished with every second that passed that he’d been able to say more, do more, be more, for everyone he knew. Hearth wondered what his friends thought, wondered if they were angry with him for dying on them, for removing himself from their lives when he’d told them he’d stay, he’d be there. Every time he thought about the home he’d never be returning to, the things he loved about life that he just couldn’t do in Helheim, the people who’d waited for him to come back only for the news of his final breath to reach them instead, he swallowed the lump in his throat and fought back tears.
The person who his mind held onto the most, who he saw every time he closed his eyes, who filled his every breath and made his eyes water like smoke was the person he was the most apologetic towards, as though he knew the burst of his love wasn’t returned, he knew how much he meant to him. He knew the pain he’d caused him by going, by going without saying goodbye, without even a simple Thank you, though the person deserved so much more, so much more than he could ever give. And Hearth hated that he couldn’t do anything for him now, that he couldn’t cup his face in his hands and hold them close and tell him I’m here, I care, I remember you, I love you.
He’d write notes in his head, to make sure he never had to face the terrifying fate of forgetting the most important person in his life, and still in his afterlife. He took note of his hands as they sewed and played with his scarf, the scarf he’d gotten for him, that held him when he was scared and had learned to sign so quickly, so eagerly for him. He made sure he knew the way his eyes had so many different emotions, wildfires of rage to sparks of joy to hearths of care and comfort he’d hold his hands out to for courage, for strength, when it was hard to go on. He made sure to think of his love’s dark, curly hair and warm brown eyes and how he’d looked at him like he was all that mattered, and how much he needed him, when he was alive and still now, and how much he missed him and how much he’d hurt him, he hurt him by dying and it ate at him and burned like a steaming iron brand and brought hot tears to his eyes because he hadn’t meant to, he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen and he just wanted to go back, back to his love, back home to his embrace.
Sometimes he’d write on paper, he’d recount stories and memories and times they’d stayed up too late and slept together on the couch, when he’d be reading in his chair in their shared apartment and his love would place a plate on the table next to him, tapping on his shoulder and grinning. Hearthstone had never been the best artist, but he tried to draw, too, so he’d never forget how that person looked, how he shone, that the fire of his admiration and passion wasn’t just painful, it was beautiful, it was a light in the dark, he was a light in the dark. He only really had one drawing he was satisfied with. It was a sketch of his best friend smiling, head cocked slightly to the side, eyes proud and accepting like a long, perfect hug, like Hearth was the most important person in all the worlds. Maybe the drawing was fine because he had so many memories just like that image to go off of.
But none of those would compare to having the real thing right in front of him, right within arm’s reach, where they could clutch each other and be by each other’s sides and Hearth could take in his best friend’s face, just like he was doing now-
Just like he was doing now.
He blinked.
It was still there. He was still there.
Hearthstone was walking excruciatingly slow, so horrendously slow. He willed his legs to go faster, faster, quicker still until he was speeding as if he still had a life to run for, grabbing onto this person, the oxygen he needed to keep burning, keep going, accidentally tackling him to the floor.
Tears were streaming freely down Hearth’s face; he couldn’t have held them back if he tried. He sat up quickly, trying his best to wipe them away and failing, failing so miserably. The person he’d unfortunately tackled sat up as well, confused, but took one look at him and stopped moving, breathing, possibly thinking. His eyes widened and began to brim with tears as well. Hearthstone raised his hands to sign the word, the name, that he’d been hoping all this time he’d be able to use again.
Blitzen.
At his name, Blitz nodded, as if acknowledging that he was there, that it was him. “Hearthstone,” he replied, and their names gave life to each other, bringing light to their existences, their experiences, their thoughts and emotions. Their names made them who they were, and what they were was together once again, at long last.
Slowly, they stood, never taking their eyes off the other. They faced each other, both weeping openly now, overflowing with emotions and desires. Hearth lifted his hand and held it open in front of him, waiting. Blitz took it, as he had many times before, grabbing it tightly but not uncomfortably, as if he thought Hearthstone would disappear otherwise. Then he let go and wrapped his arms around Hearth, who returned the embrace and then they were clutching each other, crying in regret and joy and love, oh so much love. They could’ve spent another eon in that hug, and perhaps they did, but eventually they separated.
“You’re here,” Blitzen whispered. “You’re really here.”
Hearthstone nodded. I’m here. With you.
“I’m sorry,” Blitz sobbed, and to Hearth’s wonder and delight he signed as he spoke.
You remember, Hearthstone signed. You remember how to sign.
Blitzen smiled and wiped his eyes, not that it accomplished much. “Of course I did. I couldn’t forget if I tried.” He looked Hearth in the eyes, in his eyes that still held fiery chill, passionate ice. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m so sorry, Hearth. I didn’t- I wasn’t there-”
Neither of us knew, Hearth told him. It’s ok.
Blitz lowered his head. If it weren’t for his signing, Hearthstone would’ve had no idea what he was saying. “It wasn’t ok. I wasn’t ok. I could’ve, should’ve done more, before you died. I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough, but it’s true.”
Hearth put a hand on Blitzen’s cheek, wiping his tears away with his thumb. He tried for a smile, and realized with relief that he could give Blitz one, one that wasn’t forced, one filled with happiness, with life neither of them had any longer. You’re perfect, he said.
His best friend, the love of his life and death, touched his cheek where Hearthstone’s hand had been. He smiled again, just like the one Hearth remembered, almost mirroring the one he’d drawn. “And you’re so much more.”
Hearth sat on his knees, and Blitz joined him. He leaned in, pressing their foreheads together, so they were looking into each other’s eyes and he was so warm, so happy, finally at peace. The fire was no longer painful, no longer did it give off agonizing heat. Instead it spread gentle arms around his heart, more like sunshine and a summer breeze. He felt like he was home again, whole again. And he had a million things he wanted to tell the person who caused it.
Maybe he’d start with ‘Thank you.’
Blitzen’s hands were on his face now, gently cupping his cheeks, keeping him in place. He had no objections.
‘It was delightful to love you. It was painful to love you.’
Hearthstone wouldn’t be able to say anything in that moment. His hands were drifting up to Blitz’s head.
‘It’s still delightful. But there’s no pain here, now.’
One of Hearth’s hands found its way to Blitzen’s back, the other to the back of his head.
‘I loved you in life; did you know? I’ll love you in death.’
He felt Blitz move his hands lower, to around his jaw, close to his ear.
‘I’ll love you until all the worlds burn to ashes around us.’
In another scenario, maybe it would’ve been awkward, but neither Hearthstone nor Blitzen thought about that. They’d been separated for centuries- they had a lot of lost time to make up for.
‘And my love will join the flames.’
At this point, Hearth knew Blitz could understand everything he meant to say. He was reading him through his eyes, and his own seemed to melt.
‘I’ll always love you. Even if you grow tired of me.’
They were closer, now. Each could feel the other’s breath.
‘Even if you leave, just as I did.’
He didn’t need all these words, Hearth realized. He didn’t need to add so much to the simple phrase. Just as Blitz was reading him, he could see into Blitz’s heart like his eyes were windows. Blitzen wouldn’t leave, not unless the universe ripped them apart, and even then, he wouldn’t go without a fight. Hearthstone loved him all the more for it. And that was all he needed to say.
‘I love you.’
The last thing he registered was the smile in Blitz’s eyes before their lips met, and he closed his eyes. It was soft, it was warm, and oh, he wished a word existed that could describe it perfectly. It felt beautiful, lovely, a little touch that made fireworks burst in his chest, colorful sparks igniting his heart, pinks and golds, sunset oranges and vibrant reds engulfing him in a comforting blaze of emotion. It lasted wonderfully long and terribly short, and when they drank in their last second of the kiss and when their lips parted and they could see each other again, the elated expression on Blitzen’s face only made Hearthstone want to pull him close for another.
Blitz’s smile turned almost sheepish, but his eyes remained the same. “I love you,” he told Hearth, signing as he spoke. “I hope you don’t mind.”
Hearth grinned and shook his head, standing and holding a hand out to Blitzen, who took it and stood in front of him. Forever?
“Well, we can’t die twice.” Blitz grabbed Hearthstone’s hand again and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to it before letting go. “Until we fade out of the universe. And maybe not even then.”
Evidently, death had not made Hearth immune to blushing, not with how his face heated up in that moment. He leaned down and pecked Blitz on the cheek, pleased by the precious blush that dusted his face.
Blitzen sighed. “There’s so much to say, to do. I mean…” He put a hand on his forehead, fingers reaching into his hair. “How do we start?”
Hearthstone shrugged. We have a lot of time to figure it out.
That seemed to take a weight off of Blitz’s shoulders. He took a deep breath, nodded, and stared into Hearth’s eyes. “I love you,” he said, as if coming to a final decision. Hearth smiled, really smiled, wide and content.
I love you too, he signed. It was a simple sentence, said by so many people every single day, but the light, the emotion it brought to Blitz’s eyes was unique and priceless. For eternity.
“For eternity,” Blitzen repeated. He took a step closer and wrapped Hearthstone in another hug, one that Hearth returned fiercely. He twirled Blitz’s hair in his fingers and cried, cried tears of unbridled bliss. And now, now in the world of the dead, warmed by Blitz holding onto him tight and the fiery, cozy love coursing through them both, nothing was missing.