TRP: Goro, Hansel, and Mishka (Fire-Breathing Bear)

**COYOTE**

[DAY: 280. Setting: The castle in Glimmerton. Mishka goes to
ask Hansel to spar with him.]

Mishka was bored-- and fucking restless. The air felt heavy
with heat and humidity, which always left him itching unpleasantly, like the
white-hot magic under his skin needed something to release it.

Joan was gone. Dealing with some shit inside Skyport, he was
pretty sure. So instead, he went and found Hansel, and located him inside the
castle.

Mishka cracked into his lap on the couch. "Hansel,"
he said. "Pay attention to me."

He was pretty sure he was sitting on a book, but that wasn't
important right now. Husband. Attention.

**IZZY**

Hansel blinked. Well, he guessed he wasn't fuckin' reading
anymore, so.

"All right."

He tackled Mishka to the floor, pinning him down and kissing
his face viciously, grinning.

**COYOTE**

"No!" Mishka said, squirming. "No! Too much
attention! Less! Less!"

**IZZY**

"Nah, you made your bed." Hansel chomped down on
his shoulder playfully a couple times, growling.

**COYOTE**

Mishka scoffed. He clawed his way over to Hansel's shoulder
and sank his teeth in to show Hansel how it felt. That'd teach him.

**IZZY**

"Nice." Hansel nuzzled against him roughly for it,
scratching Mishka's face with his beard.

**COYOTE**

Mishka bit harder. This was the shoulder without the shark
scar. He'd get him.

**IZZY**

Hansel snuggled him. "Cute li'l ish."

**COYOTE**

Mishka had to let go in order to threaten him properly.
"I'm dangerous," Mishka informed him. "Deadly, even. Roast men
alive. I bet I could take you."

**IZZY**

"Mmhm." He scratched his beard against Mishka's
face again, then gave him a smug look. "Bet what, huh?"

**COYOTE**

"Mm." Mishka's eyes sparked now that he realized
he could get something out of this. He tried not to look greedy. "You have
to do what I say for one whole week. I'll make you give me back rubs and bring
me things. Feed me grapes."

**IZZY**

"Oh, yeah? And what do I get when I win, 'cause you
already do whatever I want, nesichi."

**COYOTE**

"I'll admit that's a hole in the bet, but I'm willing
to live with it. Shall we shake on it?"

**IZZY**

"Nah." Hansel tapped his forehead against
Mishka's, amused. "Gimme somethin' better."

**COYOTE**

Mishka hummed. It was pretty fucking difficult, actually,
because he couldn't think of a single thing Hansel wanted. Hansel was a simple
man, and he mostly just wanted his family around him, and booze to drink, and
problems to solve. Whenever Mishka thought of something Hansel would like, he
did it or acquired it. He didn't have anything prepared right now. Nothing on
tap.

Mishka started musing out loud. "We could... bet five
hundred gold apiece. Or I could promise not to drag you to any boring state
dinners... but I already don't drag you to those." He cut his eyes at
Hansel. "War's over, we've got plenty of time. Could wager something
dirty." Then he moved on. "Could wager something else, though.
Maybe... ah. Y'know that old couch of mine? The one from my estate you loved so
much? It's still there. Winner gets the couch."

**IZZY**

Hansel snorted. "Yeah, okay." He drew back,
pulling Mishka on upright, and offered his hand, smirking.

'Cause if Mishka won, and got the couch, it was still gonna
fuckin' be Hansel's couch, anyway.

**COYOTE**

"Gonna fucking beat you," Mishka said, and got up,
brushing himself off.

--

They headed down to find a space to fight. They needed
somewhere fairly isolated, so Mishka didn't accidentally cause a castle fire or
forest fire. He thought about dragging Joan, or Roddy, or Goro along, but, eh,
it might get weird or violent. Plus... Hansel might get upset during the fight.
Mishka needed to watch him, make sure he was really okay sparring like this
again.

Yeah. Better in private.

Instead, he brought along a couple healing potions. Just in
case.

He led Hansel down to a bit flat place down by the shore-- a
big rocky beach. "This work for you, Granger?"

**IZZY**

Hansel glanced around. They were well away from the castle
by now, or anything particularly flammable -- or whatever the hell he might end
up doing with his magic. All seemed safe enough. He stretched his back and
rolled his shoulders and neck, loosening up.

"Aye, cap'n."

Grinning, he pulled his trident off his back and gave it a
toss up, catching and spinning it just to show off.

**COYOTE**

"Pft," Mishka said. He mentally rearranged his
spell slots a little. He had a little extra energy to play around with, but
he'd already burned some cracking into Hansel's lap and demanding attention.

Worth it, though. Worth it. Mishka rubbed his skin, which
still pleasantly ached in some areas. He delicately unlaced his boots to give
himself better purchase in the sand, then took off his cloak-- it was too hot
to fight in.

He drew his flame-tongue rapier, then tossed his dancing
rapier into the air next to it. "Well, whenever you're ready to get your
ass handed to you, come at me, I suppose."

**IZZY**

Hansel snorted and readied his shield. He wasn't in any
fuckin' hurry.

**COYOTE**

Mishka eyed the odd gem attachment Hansel had. He knew it
could absorb magic. That threw him off, a little.

Instead of coming out the gate with a fireball spell, he
decided to do something else, instead. He aimed a firebolt directly at Hansel's
head and missed by a mile-- the sun was in his eyes-- but that was no matter.
He used the energy to feed a little fire resistance for himself so that if
Hansel absorbed a fireball spell and threw it back at him, it wouldn't hurt as
bad.

The firebolt distracted Hansel. Mishka's dancing rapier
sliced him across the arm. Mishka circled around to put the sun at his back.

**IZZY**

A mote of fire went wide, but Hansel tracked it too long,
and the dancing rapier got too close and nicked him. He snorted. It was a nice
little toy, but rapiers just couldn't hurt him all that much -- too
thick-skinned. Mishka slipped around him, and he lashed out twice with his
trident. The first one didn't make contact -- the trident just bounced against
something like a magnet turned the wrong way, and a wave of crackling green and
gold light erupted out from the tines.

Hansel gave a surprised grunt, but he'd seen weirder shit --
it broke down when he went in again, stabbing into Mishka leg. Didn't go deep.
Still, he felt a little bit of a twinge. Thought about that day, on the Sugar
Glider. Pinning Mishka by the arm, his eyes all blacked out.

He shook it off, backing away a bit. They'd had a lot more
fucking sparring matches that ended without anyone dying, or -- getting too
hurt to defend themselves later. It was fine. He didn't have to force the
little bit of a grin.

"New trick, there, motek?"

**COYOTE**

"Maybe," Mishka said, grinning. His skin buzzed
with heat and energy and excitement. He had to hold it in, remember this was
Hansel, not to hurt him too bad. Watch Hansel's face carefully for any hint of
upset.

Hansel seemed okay.

Mishka sent his dancing rapier in again and missed. At the
same time, he snapped his fingers, and a fireball exploded behind Hansel, and
the beach whipped with sand and dust, obscuring his target.

Mishka smirked. He was pretty fucking sure that fireball
must've knocked Hansel down by half. It was a really good one.

**IZZY**

Hansel threw his arm up, letting the fire scorch him, and it
sank into him like sunlight -- didn't seem to burn quite so much as it usually
did, actually. Kinda pleasant. That was just him, though.

He had some new tricks since last time, too.

Dust and sand exploded around him, and he used the brief
cover. Thought about the times he'd seen bears out in the woods back home --
big lumbering things. Always seemed pretty sedate as long as he was just
watching from a distance. 'Course, on the other hand, one had just about ripped
his face off, not that long ago. Bears. Yeah. They were fuckin' good.

He barreled out of the dust cloud as a grizzly, charging at
Mishka full speed and gnashing at him. He didn't make contact, but there was a
blaze around his teeth, left over from the fireball. It faded quickly, but he
was still a fucking bear, which felt pretty goddamn good.

**COYOTE**

Mishka ducked. Holy fuck. “Are you a fucking bear?” Mishka
yelled at him, skirting back. “Did you just fucking breathe fire at me? Are you
a fucking fire-breathing bear now?” He laughed giddily.

He lobbed another fireball. Did some damage. Missed with the
rapier.

**IZZY**

Hansel wished he could fucking laugh, too, because yeah, it
was fuckin' great. God, maybe he could be a fire-breathing bear. Was that a
thing? He bet they could make that a thing. He snapped at Mishka again, still
only getting air, and shook off some of the ash from that last fireball. Kind
of didn't even care about winning, right now, which was frankly unheard of.
Hansel always won.

Just this moment, though, Hansel was just having a good
fuckin' time.

**COYOTE**

Mishka backed up a little more, breathless and grinning. He
was burning through energy fast. He was pretty sure that was Hansel’s game—
outlast time, then take him down once he had no shielding spells left, no more
fireballs.

It was a good strategy. It might work, too.

Mishka cracked another fireball off. Hit, this time.

**IZZY**

That one knocked the fucking wind out of him. Knocked the
bear out of him, too. He came out laughing, taking a knee and wiping some soot
out of his face.

He called, "Nice hit, ahuvi," out through the
dust, then dug his fingers into the sand and launched himself at Mishka again,
shifting back into a bear as he did. Wasn't as easy to fuckin' hit shit with
just his teeth -- didn't have the range he was used to. Another miss.

**COYOTE**

Mishka dodged, and kept dodging. The bear forms were weak,
but Hansel was forcing him to spend energy taking them down. Wasting spells.

Still, if Mishka hit him hard enough, fast enough, maybe he
could still win.

Another fireball. More damage, then Hansel reverted to
half-orc form. The dancing rapier dove in to hit and clanged uselessly off
Hansel’s armor. Should’ve attacked earlier, before the fireball knocked him
back into humanoid form.

**IZZY**

Hansel came out laughing again. God, that was just fuckin'
fun, getting knocked down and coming right back up only a little battered. He
was tapped out for shapeshifting -- could feel it. He had a lot more up his
sleeve, though.

He didn't take a knee this time -- not as much of the blow
had carried over from his bear form. He acted fast, swiping his new javelin off
his back and hurling it at Mishka, too fueled by adrenaline to be too bothered
by the lightning. It sunk into Mishka's shoulder, piercing his magic shield and
delivering the brunt of the shock into him.

Then he lunged forward, whipping his trident into his hand
for three quick attacks; one slipped off the shield with another glittering
crackle, but the second and third sinking in and shoving Mishka down into the
sand on his back.

Hansel thought about the ship again.

Mishka was fuckin' loving this, bright-eyed, very much
himself. He was all right. They were all right. Breathless from the charge and
leaning over him, Hansel asked it anyway: "All good, cap'n?"

**COYOTE**

“No mercy,” Mishka said breathlessly.

(A fast check. Hansel seemed okay— a little on edge, but
okay. Good. Amazing.)

Mishka didn’t even try to get away. He snapped his fingers
instead. The gem on Hansel’s trident glowed, trying to absorb the spell, and
Hansel grinned, but Mishka fought it— and won, firing off the spell.

**IZZY**

Goddammit. Fuckin' gem. Hansel took the full force of the
fireball, flinching against it. He didn't have a chance to weaken the blow with
magic -- just had to stand there and take it. He was pretty goddamn good at
taking hits, though, and with the fire still raging, he drew back and slammed
the trident down into Mishka again.

It died down, and he blinked his eyes back open. The sand
around them had all turned to glass, and Mishka's rapier slipped out of his
limp hand, clicking against it. His head had lolled off to the side. His eyes
were closed.

He was not -- definitely not -- fucking dead.

Hansel wrenched his trident away and dropped down next to
him. Okay. All okay. Totally fine. He had a scrap of magic left -- he scooped
Mishka into his arms and whispered, "Hey, hey, ahuvi -- wake up, yerechi v
khovachim," breathing everything he had left into it.

**COYOTE**

Mishka dozed in and out of blackness. For a second, it was
terrifying: Being pinned by the trident was a grim reminder of being possessed
by the Hunger, and for a moment, it felt like she had him again. His body was
too stiff and heavy to move, and shadows kept trying to swallow him up.

But there was Hansel.

A guiding light gently pulling him back up, giving him more
energy.

Mishka clung to him weakly, whimpering.

**IZZY**

Hansel breathed out. Okay. All okay. He petted Mishka's hair
and kissed his forehead. "Got you, ahuvi," he murmured. "All
good." He fumbled for one of his potions and shifted to hold Mishka's head
in his lap, tilting him up to gently press his lips to the neck of the bottle.

His hand shook a little. He'd feel better once Mishka said
something.

**COYOTE**

“Mmhm,” Mishka said. Eyes flickered shut again. He leaned
into Hansel with this last of his energy, letting the potions trickle down his
throat.

He felt better, but that was probably just because he was
lying in Hansel’s lap. He felt some wounds close from Hansel’s magic, but his
head still felt— weird from getting hit.

**IZZY**

Hansel chewed his lip a second. All fine. All good. He set
the empty bottle aside and gently gathered Mishka up more to hold him, curled
up, against his chest.

He tried to block out the fucking barrage of thoughts -- you
did this, you fucking monster, you could've killed him, you're so fucking
stupid, you knew this would happen and you did it anyway, you just want to hurt
him, don't you, you just want to hurt people, you know it's all you're good at.
Grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut against them. Deep breath -- seven
seconds in, seven seconds out. All fine. All fine. He stroked Mishka's hair and
hummed a little, softly.

He sniffled. He wasn't crying. He didn't ... get to cry. He
was the one who'd done this.

**COYOTE**

Hansel was making a noise— a choked little breath, like he
was holding it in. Mishka was mildly alarmed (what was wrong? Everything was so
good. Hansel had done so well.) “Hey,” Mishka said softly. “It’s okay, Hansel.”

But before he could say anything else, consciousness slipped
away again.

**IZZY**

Mishka mumbled, then went limp. Still breathing -- just
unconscious again.

How very fucking like him it'd be, though, if his last words
after Hansel beat him to death were, Hey, it's okay, Hansel.

It was okay, though. Hansel sniffled again and took a
breath. Mishka was all right enough to've noticed he was upset and tried to
comfort him -- got a whole thought out, too. He'd been hurt worse than this,
Hansel was just being ... himself. He tried to be a little less that version of
himself, and a little more master-at-arms.

"A'right." He stretched to grab his trident and
returned it to his back, then picked up Mishka's rapier and slipped it into his
bandolier as well. "Let's go home, eh, cap'n?"

He pushed up, resettling Mishka against his chest and
wincing. He kept talking quietly as he started limping back up the path towards
the castle, more to himself because he didn't think Mishka was awake.

"'Bout had me there, ahuvi. Fuckin' up a couple bears
all on your own and shit. Was fun, eh?" He winced again, rolling his
shoulders. "Gonna need that couch t'rest my weary goddamn bones on after
that shit. Good thing, though." He lifted Mishka up a bit more to kiss his
forehead. "Since it's my couch, gonna be yours, too. S'pose I can let you
nap on it now and then. If I'm feelin' generous and all."

He kept slouching on towards the castle. He'd ... missed
sparring with Mishka. It was satisfying -- working out against someone
evenly-matched, not having to worry too much about hurting them, enjoying the
challenge without the threat of dying. They'd have to do it again. Maybe have
Goro or Luci around so he wouldn't get like this, but --

Yeah. He squeezed Mishka to his chest. It was good.

**LINA**

Goro had sliced himself some bread and cheese, and now he
was looking for mustard, because Raef had judged his sandwich-making choices
last time. At least put some mustard on there, he'd said, and Goro had asked
why, and Raef had shaken his head sadly like Goro was beyond hope. Fuckin'
ridiculous.

He finally found the jar, and was spreading some on his
bread when he saw Hansel through the door to the dining room. He was carrying
Mishka, looking around--and when he spotted Goro, he headed Goro's way.

Goro's first thought was aw, cute, until he realized how
fucking scorched Hansel looked. And the fact that Mishka wasn't moving.

His head was limp against Hansel's chest.

Goro dropped the knife and the slice of bread. He ran into
the dining room, hopping over a couple chairs that were in his way, meeting
Hansel at the end of the table. "What happened? What happened?"

His hands hovered over Mishka for a second as he took in the
state of him--Mishka looked burned, too, and he was bleeding, but Goro couldn't
see from where in that position. He snatched up Mishka's wrist, checking for a
pulse, which he found. "Here, here, put him on the table."

**IZZY**

Hansel did, relieved because he was fucking sore and tired
and thank fuckin' Mask, he supposed, that Goro was the first person he'd seen.
Kept his hand under Mishka's head to pillow it, though, and held onto one of
Mishka's hands with the other one.

"Uh," he said. His voice was a bit ragged from the
determined lack of crying, and from the fact he'd kept talking and singing all
the way back in case Mishka woke up. Wanted him to know Hansel was the one who
had him straight away, know he was safe.

**COYOTE**

Mishka dozed in and out as Hansel carried him. This was
good. This was nice.

He jolted awake when he felt himself being set down, making
a small sound of protest. His eyes flickered open. Hansel was holding his head,
and he was lying on a table, and people were holding his wrists and hands.

Hansel and Goro were both there. “Hey,” Mishka said,
pleased.

**LINA**

Goro let his breath out in a huff, shaking slightly with
relief. He triggered his springblade and cut Mishka's shirt open
unceremoniously--Mishka could bitch at him for it later, when he was safe and
well, and Goro supposed he'd be at it with his mending cantrip for a while--and
examined the injuries.

Mishka was partially healed over. Hansel's healing magic,
Goro guessed; maybe some potions. But enough of the trauma remained for Goro to
see the nature of it. Trident prongs, and lightning.

He looked up at Hansel grimly, hands going still. Hansel
looked uncomfortable, but he wasn't sick or unconscious like after the other
possessions. Maybe it... hadn't been that bad?

**COYOTE**

“Hey,” Mishka said, batting at Goro’s hand. Or trying to, at
least, and missing.

That didn’t work or make Goro stop ruining his clothes.
Mishka frowned. He supposed they were already covered in blood, which was a
pain in the ass to wash out.

“We were sparring,” Mishka said, pleased with himself. He
reached up and patted Hansel’s face, because Hansel still looked upset.
“Hansel, Hansel. You won.”

**IZZY**

"Uh-huh." He tried to smile, leaning into Mishka's
hand. Mishka was way fuckin' happier about it than he was -- he kind of wished
he'd lost. Mishka was okay, though. All okay. "Told you."

**LINA**

Goro blinked a few times. He straightened up from leaning
over Mishka. "What?"

**COYOTE**

Ah. Now he felt like he fucked up. Hansel didn’t look—
better, he looked... unhappy, still, but leaning into Mishka’s hand, which was
nice.

“Went fighting,” Mishka said vaguely. “Bored.” Then,
“Should’ve brought a healer. Hindsight.”

**IZZY**

"Aye," Hansel agreed. He glanced at Goro, feeling
a bit fuckin' sheepish. Goro'd probably think it was a dumb fucking pastime in
general, much less doing it without someone with real healing magic. "Used
to, uh. Used to spar all the time."

He took Mishka's hand and kissed the knuckles. Lot of
reasons why they'd stopped.

**LINA**

Goro took a step back from the table. He stared at them
both.

**COYOTE**

“What?”

**IZZY**

Hansel wanted to reach out for Goro to pull him back, but he
didn't have enough hands right now. Didn't wanna take'em off Mishka while
Mishka was hurt. He just made a confused, distressed sound instead. "Hey.
Hang on. Gotta heal him. Please."

**LINA**

Goro kept staring, eyes gradually narrowing. He took his
wand out of his robes and looked between the two of them, grinding his teeth.
He glanced at his vitality bracelet--yeah, Hansel wasn't in great shape,
either. Goro scowled even deeper.

Frankly, they'd both fucking live without his help, but he
guessed he didn't want them to suffer and shit. He used up half the wand's
charges on Mishka, bringing him well out of danger of passing out again. He
considered, and used another charge on Mishka, too--Hansel could walk his injuries
off more readily.

He waved the wand over Hansel, next, before Hansel had a
chance to object. Maybe he'd objected strongly enough in his head, though,
since Goro could tell those last two charges hardly did shit. Damn.

**COYOTE**

Mishka stretched, feeling far better now. He swung his legs
down off the table.

“Are you alright?” he said doubtfully to Hansel. “Neshama,
my love, it was sweet of you to spar with me. Maybe we drag our healer along
next time, hm?” He wrapped an arm around Goro’s shoulders possessively.

He wanted Hansel to be calm. Happy. They could go slower,
next time. Didn’t have to fight to the point of passing out.

**IZZY**

Hansel nodded. He felt a bit better physically -- the burns
had started closing up, but the amount of punishment he could take outpaced the
amount Goro could easily heal. Was something Serena had grumbled about
regularly, telling him to just fuckin' sleep it off and leave her alone.

Mostly felt better seeing Mishka upright again, though. That
let him relax and breath easier again. Just a sparring match -- like every
other sparring match they'd ever had.

"All good," he said. Tiny bit shaky. He'd get over
it. He pulled Mishka in to kiss the top of his head, then did the same to Goro.
"Yeah, probably oughta, uh. Think ahead next time." It'd been
different on the Blade -- Serena was never far off.

**LINA**

Goro kept glowering at the two of them. He put a hand on
Hansel's shoulder and bowed his head, praying quietly to heal him further. He
opened his eyes and shook out his wrist to check the bracelet again. Not great
still, but Hansel would feel better, at least.

He considered leaving it at that, saving the rest of his
magic for true emergencies, except he was thinking about how Hansel had healed
Mishka a little bit, and how they had other potions lying around, and decided
he'd better earn his keep. So he grabbed both their hands and said one more
prayer.

Fuckers. Wasn't like he cared if they wanted to spar and fry
the shit out of each other for fun. Sure, whatever. But fucking going off and
doing it without saying anything? Just assuming, or whatever, he'd be ready and
waiting when they got back?

"Well, you're welcome," he muttered, and shrugged
them both off so he could go back to his sandwich-making.

**COYOTE**

Mishka looked contrite. He glanced at Hansel.

**IZZY**

Hansel wrapped both his arms around Mishka, kind of leaning
on him, because at this point Mishka looked better off than he felt.

"Y'know," he stage-whispered, "he liked it
when I was a cat. Shame I'm outta magic, or I'd give him kitty eyes. Bet he'd
forgive us then."

**LINA**

Goro stopped to give them a look over his shoulder.
"Nothing to fuckin' forgive, I'm just hungry. And I dropped my sandwich
fixings all over the damn counter, worrying about you jerks. Sparring.
God."

**COYOTE**

Mishka leaned back contentedly into Hansel’s arms, trying to
support him a little.

Mishka watched Goro go, amused. He didn’t normally think
You’re cute when you’re angry— it felt infantilizing— but it was, genuinely,
pretty fucking cute. Huffing and lecturing them. Puffed up like an offended
cat. His complaint faded into grumbles as he exited into the kitchen.

“He’ll be back,” Mishka said to Hansel.

**IZZY**

"Mm," Hansel agreed. He squeezed Mishka and kissed
his head, then shifted to sit on the table himself, letting out a tired huff.
He pulled Mishka to sit on the table with him, between his legs, back-to-chest,
and planted his face in Mishka's hair.

"You have fun?" he asked, muffled, his eyes
closed.

**COYOTE**

Mm. This wouldn’t do. He couldn’t hug Hansel like this.
Mishka shifted around so he was sitting in Hansel’s lap instead, facing him,
chest to chest, then gently pulled Hansel in again so Hansel’s face rested
against his hair and shoulder.

He didn’t answer, just idly stroked Hansel’s thick hair.

**IZZY**

Hansel grumbled a bit at Mishka moving around, but then made
a satisfied sound as Mishka pulled him in. Yeah. That was good, too. He closed
his eyes again and looped his arms around Mishka's waist loosely.

He had this ... vague feeling that he was ruining shit.
Always had that feeling. Right now, though, it was coming off the fact that
he'd won their little match and now he had to be coddled over it. Mishka had
just wanted to spar, like they always used to -- always used to have a good fucking
time doing it, too. Hansel just wanted that -- wanted to be that way again.

Wasn't like Mishka was upset with him, or anything, though.
Wasn't leaving him. It was all fine.

**LINA**

Goro finished putting his sandwich together. He went and
stood in the doorway to the dining room, leaning against the frame, and ate
one-handed while he stared at them.

**COYOTE**

“Pay me five gold and I’ll make out with him for you,”
Mishka said, still stroking Hansel’s hair.

**IZZY**

Hansel snorted and didn't lift his head.

**LINA**

"I don't pay for shit that comes free after
hours," Goro said, mouth full.

**COYOTE**

“Maybe we’ll start charging after hours, too. What say you,
my love?”

**IZZY**

"Might have to if he's gonna get uppity 'bout it."

**LINA**

Goro took another bite, chewed, and swallowed. He shrugged.
"Eh. I've seen better."

**COYOTE**

Mishka scoffed. Then relented: “Probably.” He and Hansel
kept it pretty tame in front of Goro.

**IZZY**

"Pfff." Hansel cracked an eye at Goro. "Hey.
How come we don't get sandwiches, huh? We're injured, and shit."

**LINA**

"Maybe I'm injured, too. You don't know."

**COYOTE**

Mishka attempted to slide out of Hansel’s lap towards the
kitchen.

**IZZY**

Hansel grumbled and tightened around him. If either of the
two of'em was going to get food from the kitchen, it sure wasn't gonna be the
one who'd been knocked out a minute ago.

He peeked down at his bracelet and held it up. All green.
"Don't know, my ass."

**LINA**

Aw, fuckin' shit. He really should've thought that one
through. He shoved the last of the sandwich into his mouth and retreated into
the kitchen, where he threw together two more sandwiches--both with mustard,
Raef--and stacked them onto a plate. He walked back out and set it on the table
beside them.

**COYOTE**

Mishka frowned. The sandwich made him feel all warm and
fuzzy and shit, which always made him suspicious.

He knew why it made him itch. Growing up, tiny gestures of
affection usually came with some sort’ve strings attached. Everything was
meaningful; the precise way of accepting or rejecting a small gift, the language
you used... being too enthusiastic might imply interest in a person, which
might invite trouble, but not being enthusiastic enough might be seen as rude
or dismissive... His mother tutored him strictly on high elven court manners,
and they were both maddening and complicated. Even now, sitting here with
people he loved and felt relaxed with, sometimes those memories bothered him.

This, Mishka realized, was ridiculous. It was a sandwich. It
was Goro, grumbling and scowling at them for doing dumb shit. He was sitting on
a table with his husband in Glimmerton.

Also, he really fucking wanted the sandwich. And he was
really fucking grateful he was sitting here. Getting carried home by his
husband and then patched up by his chaver. Getting fed a fucking sandwich. One
of the sandwiches had extra cheese and meat, and the other was vegetarian. God.
It was... all domestic and shit.

Mishka shoved the sandwich in his mouth gratefully. He tried
to say thanks and it came out choked. He gave Goro a thumbs up instead.

**IZZY**

Hansel made a pleased sound at Mishka eating, and reached
out to drag Goro up onto the table next to them, looping one arm around his
waist and holding onto Mishka with the other. He kissed Goro's head.
"Thanks, ahuv."

**LINA**

Goro scoffed lightly. That was his style, he guessed: don't
get a thank you, act bitter about it; get a thank you, brush it off. Maybe
someday he'd figure this shit out.

He was relieved to see Mishka gobbling the sandwich down.
His gaze flicked between Mishka and Hansel, brow furrowing. God fucking damn
it. These fucking idiots. "Well are you okay, or what?"

**COYOTE**

“No. I’m dying. Hansel is, too. Come take a bath with us.
You’ll have to watch us to make sure we don’t pass out and drown.” Then he
said, “Or you could just come with because I like you and want you around. You
know. Whichever.”

He nudged the sandwich towards Hansel, then realized Hansel
had no hands left, and tried to feed it to Hansel himself.

**IZZY**

Hansel grumbled good-naturedly and took a bite. Wasn't even
hungry, really, he'd just wanted to tease Goro for standing there and watching
them while he ate. He figured he could enjoy his fiance making him a sandwich
and his husband feeding it to him, though.

"You got any magic left? Dunno if I got the strength to
walk down t'the baths," he said grimly, around a mouthful of bread.
"Dyin', an' all."

**COYOTE**

“Me? Sure fuckin’ don’t.”

**LINA**

"Finish the sandwich to get your strength back,"
Goro suggested dryly. "Wait, you didn't die. Did you?"

**IZZY**

"Nah, nah." He took another bite so he wouldn't
have to think about that.

**COYOTE**

“I almost won,” Mishka said, because that was the important
thing.

**LINA**

Goro snorted. "Bet you did." He kept frowning,
eyeing Mishka. "Next time, get my help first, and we'll take him down
together."

**IZZY**

"Hey," Hansel objected.

**COYOTE**

“That sounds like cheating. I’m down.” He closed his eyes
and leaned against Hansel contentedly. “We ought to have a whole tournament.”

**LINA**

"Or fuckin' not. Who's gonna heal everyone then?"

**IZZY**

"You can forfeit," Hansel said placidly.
"Believe that counts as a loss, don't it, khochav?"

**COYOTE**

“Mhm.”

**LINA**

"Nah, nah, you don't get it. A fuckin' tournament?
Gonna have like ten fuckin' people lying around, bleeding all over the place,
and what, you think I'm gonna have enough magic to patch everyone up?
Eesh."

**COYOTE**

Mishka nodded grudgingly. He really wanted to do a huge
tournament with all of them fighting each other— but what if someone found out
about the tournament and used the opportunity to murder all of them at once?

“Too many enemies,” Mishka mused out loud. “Boo.”

Then he froze. His eyes widened. A slow smile broke across
his face.

“Hey,” Mishka said.

**IZZY**

Ah, he had that worrying look in his eyes. "Hm?"
Hansel prodded, amused.

**COYOTE**

“You know what we need? Like... a whole lot of clerics. Just
hanging around. Conveniently. Who would heal us for free.”

**LINA**

Goro put a hand over his face. Ah, yup. This was happening.
No going back now.

**IZZY**

Hansel made an approving sound and nodded. He squeezed
Mishka and kissed his temple. "Clever as always, captain."

**COYOTE**

Mishka attempted to slide off the table. “Bathe,” he said.
“Hans, you smell like burned hair.”

**LINA**

Goro hesitated. "Do you actually need help getting
downstairs?"

**IZZY**

"Well, whose fuckin' fault is that," Hansel
grumbled at Mishka, letting him go this time. He kissed Goro's head. "Nah.
Just fuckin' with you."

**COYOTE**

Mishka gathered up the scraps of his shirt and tossed it in
the trash, wrinkling his nose.

He motioned, offering to slip under Hansel’s arm again.

**IZZY**

Hansel slid off the table too, bringing Goro along, and
happily propped on Mishka with the other arm. Ah, yes. Good. Excellent. He
always liked having one of'em on each side. Still made him feel like a fucking
king.

[end]

Title: Fire-Breathing Bear. Summary: Mishka and Hansel have
a sparring match. Hansel wins, and gets his favorite couch. Goro is enlisted to
patch them up after, which he grumbles about.