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Frost Blue Eyes	By : Yaoiandcoffeeaddict Category: +M through R > Metalocalypse > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1401 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse or Thor and make no profit from this.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Warning: Spoilers for Renovationklok, slash, and mpreg, kinda character death.
Chapter 4
Mordhaus was silent in a way that didn’t usually occur until five in the morning. There was no scuffling of thick klokateer boots on stone hallways, no laughter, no firecrackers, no jumping on furniture; the television and arcade games were not even on in the main room.

Toki ignored the soft knock on his bedroom door, knowing who it was and what they wanted already; the guitarist simply stared at the ceiling of his bedroom while fingering the engraving on his amber pendant. Although he’d stolen it from someone who used to beat him every day, the pendant always made him feel safe and loved. He really needed its warmth right now when he felt so cold inside.
There was soft murmuring outside the thick wooden door, then a raised voice barely muffled by the solid oak. Skwisgaar was calling Toki a crybaby. That was fine; he didn’t care right now. He turned on his side and burrowed into the gray comforter, his eyes lighting on an unopened model kit on his desk. Before he realized it, his vision was burling and his breath was choked by a stuffy nose.
“Nots fair,” Toki murmured to everyone and no one. “Ams just nots fair.” Less than a week ago, Papa had bought him the model kit of a castle and had said they were going to build it together that weekend, just the two of them. Toki had been so excited, having not spent much time with Papa Charles since he took Uncle Magnus’ spot in the band. Toki missed being able to do something with one of his makeshift family without worrying about if the activity would reflect well on the band or not. Papa had always kept his promises before, but it seemed he wouldn’t this time.
Toki curled deeper into the covers as the door creaked open and soft boots clicked across the room until the bed sagged next to him. “Toki?” a soft, choked voice whispered before a hand gently reached up to touch his shoulder. “Come on, Dude. We have ta get you dressed.”
“I’s not goings, Pickle.” Toki shrugged the hand off and scooted a little further away.
“Come on, Toki. Ya have ta go. Ofdensen wanted you ta be the one ta light the pyre.”
“I don’t wants to light Papa on fires.”
“Toki…”
“No. Just leaves me alones, Pickle.” He tried to move further back as Uncle Pickles reached for him again but he ran into the wall.
Pickles sighed and rose off the bed. “Nat’an, a little help?”
Almost immediately there was the sound of heavy boots coming fast towards the bed and large hand ripped Toki from his cocoon of safety. Toki simply went limp, not up to fighting. Like a doll, he was swiftly dressed in one of his papa’s old suits, his face gently cleaned by a paper towel and his hair combed by his dad and honorary uncle. Toki almost protested the amber pendant being unclasped from his neck, but he didn’t have the energy to move or speak. If he did either, he would dissolve into tears again and the world was watching. It was time to slip the now familiar and comfortable mask of apathy over his face.
As though he were a child again, his dad took Toki into his arms and carried him to the front gate before setting him down. A quick tie straightening and discreet handing out of black cloth hankies later, Daddy Nathan pushed open the front doors and led the group to the large altar on the fire scorched metal lawn. There was a mob of flashes and cameras trained on them as they made their journey to the stone steps.
Toki caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw the face of someone he hadn’t seen in years. He was tempted to run to the tall, bearded man in black and be swallowed in the long arms and firm chest but the gentle tug and warning look from Uncle Pickles made him simply lower his gaze and keep walking.
Toki had never been to a funeral before. When the guitarist was a child, he vaguely remembered someone in the village dying of old age and the Reverend Wartooth chasing him away with an iron poker when he tried to join the procession through the village. So, Toki’s knowledge of funerals only came from brief glimpses of it in television shows before Daddy or Papa would change the channel to something educational for him as if he didn’t see people brutally killed almost every time Dethklok played nowadays. But, Toki hadn’t expected to actually be able to see his papa.
His papa was laid out on his back dressed in his favorite suit, his arms folded over his chest. There were no cuts or bruises and if one hand had been behind his head or a book between his hands, Toki would have thought he looked like he was just taking a nap on the couch. Hesitantly he approached the body of his papa on the altar and placed a hand over his. It almost felt warm. “Papa?” Toki called out to the body, willing it to move, to speak, to draw him down to join him for a nap.
The band all gathered around the body to say their goodbyes. Skwisgaar presented it with a white rose; Murderface gave him an old guitar pick; Pickles gave him pen and paper; Nathan gave him an old pocket-watch that Toki had never seen before. Toki was the last one to present his parting gift- his old straw clown doll so Papa wouldn’t be lonely or forget him in the afterlife.
“Are… are you sure, Dude?” Uncle Pickles asked.
“Papa need hims more than mes,” Toki simply replied.
Daddy Nathan shook his head no when Toki tried to move the hands so they could rest over his doll better and motioned to Pickles to lead Toki to the side. Toki went with him as far as the first altar step and refused to budge. Not wanting to make a scene, Uncle Pickles left him alone. Then Nathan bent over the still figure. At this angle, no one in the crowd could see what he was doing but the two klokateers on either side of the altar and Toki, who was still gazing at the body from the first altar step. He was whispering something to papa’s body; then he leaned in further and lightly kissed papa’s still lips before moving to join the others at the bottom of the stairs.
Then, it was the crowd’s turn. Business partners, former college friends, fans, and reporters each made their trek up the small flight and bid their goodbyes and gave their condolences to Toki on their way down. Uncle Magnus was the last person up and Toki saw Pickles instantly stiffen when he neared the body. “I’m sorry, Charles,” was all the words the former guitarist said in the deep, croaky voice that used to teach Toki the alphabet. Then, he made his way down; placing a hand on Toki’s shaking shoulders as he met him on the final step before sliding something into his hand and continuing on his way. Toki looked down to see it was an address scrawled in elegant letters and numbers with the message: If you need me, this is where you will find me.
“Douche bag,” Pickles murmured as he gave the retreating back a glare that could melt a glacier. Toki to this day still did not know what got Uncle Magnus kicked out of the band.
“It’s time, Toki,” Daddy Nathan hissed as he handed Toki a lit torch. With wobbly knees and shaky hands, Toki accepted the torch from his adopted father and made his way to his other parent. He touched the torch to the straw surrounding the gold slab without a word and then handed it to the nearest klokateer. He heard the sound of grinding gears as the slab was lowered into the altar as he made his way down the steps.
/ / / / / / / (o. }=>
The next few days were solemn as well. No one really talked about the empty chair at the head of the table; no one talked about new song possibilities; no one asked why Nathan was suddenly sleeping on the couch in the living room every night or ignoring Toki; no one really said much of anything. So, naturally Toki was the first to break the silence. “Where do you thinks Papa go?” Toki innocently asked one morning as Pickle poured himself and Toki a bowl of cereal.
“Huh?” Pickles asked, just barely catching the cereal box before it splattered on the table.
“I asks where do you thinks Papa go,” Toki repeated.
“Toki,” Pickles replied, casting a look at Nathan, who was stiff and muscles tense, “This isn’t the time.”
“What’s you mean? I just want to know if I will see Papa again.”
There was the sharp scrape of a chair against stone before Nathan stomped away, slamming the door behind him. A few seconds later, a ruffled Skwisgaar appeared in the doorway. “What ams goings on?” the blonde asked as he combed his hair back into place with his fingers.
Pickles sighed, “Just stick clear of Nathan for a while, he’s in a mood.”
“What happens?”
“Toki asked where Charles was.”
“In graves,” Skwisgaar replied, blinking owlishly at Toki, “You knows this. You lights the fires, remembers?” Pickles knew by the look Skwisgaar was giving him and the glances he was shooting at Toki, he was afraid he was losing it. Pickles didn’t blame him for the assumption, the kid was very fragile right now and both he and Nathan were at a breaking point.
“I don’t mean body, I mean ghost.”
“Ghost?”
“I think he’s talkin’ about his soul,” Pickles translated. After almost seven years, he was very adept at translating for the two Scandinavians, even between themselves.
“Oh,” Skwisgaar said quietly, his shoulders relaxing in a mix of relief and grief. “Charlie dies in battle. Like any good Vikings, he go to Valhalla, Toki.”
“Valhalla?” Toki repeated. “What ams that?”
“You serious?”
“Yep. What ams Valhalla?”
Skwisgaar sighed and joined Toki at the table, taking Pickles’ bowl of cereal without asking and pouring some lactose-free milk into it. “It ams the hall of warriors who die fightings. Beautiful womens takes souls there to Odins and Thor. Soul fights all day, feasts all nights, and f(guitar rift) prettys womens and mens. Charlie will likes it theres; he can gets strong man or pretty men to takes to beds.”
“Will I go to Valhalla?”
“Onlys if you dies in battles,” Skwisgaar said in between munching on cereal as Pickles poured another bowl and stole some of Skwisgaar’s special milk as pay back.
“I never sees Papa again,” Toki stated as he pushed the cereal bowl away from him. “I not hungrys no more.” He then got up and left the room.
Pickles turned angry eyes on the Swede. “What did you do that for?”
“He might have been thinkings of joining Papa,” was all the Swede said before silently going back to his cereal. Pickles bowed to that logic and joined him in the silence.
/ / / / / / / (o. }=>
Weeks turned into months and though the emptiness in Mordhaus remained, slowly the band began dealing with their grief in different ways and healing. Nathan began to talk more and more, but he refused to pick up random women as he had in the past for reasons unknown to the band. Skwisgaar had begun to hang out more and more with the younger guitarist and drew him a little out of his shell, writing new songs with the brunette at his side every day in the recording studio. Pickles lost himself in booze and drugs more than he had since he joined the band. It was not unusual to see him passed out somewhere around the house. As for Murderface, he kept clear of his band mates and hung out with the producer at strip clubs.
As Mordhaus and Dethklok remained inactive, the world outside began to crumble. For the first time in eighty years, the stock market was hit hard. The United States economy plummeted and was shortly followed by the world’s. Of course the only ones aware of this fact in Mordhaus were Nathan, Toki, and Knubbler. When Dethklok was asked to appear on a talk show regarding their own finances during the hard times, Toki was taken to the side by Nathan as the band boarded their helicopter.
“Look, uh… Toki,” Daddy Nathan began, awkwardly shifting his feet as he tried to search for the right words to say, “The others and I have…uh… decided how to handle the…uh… finances of the band, so you don’t have to talk with the… uh… smart guy.”
Toki was instantly hurt. He had thought he’d been taken to the side so his dad could apologize for ignoring him since his papa died. He knew Dad missed Papa, so he had forgiven him. Now, Toki learned he was being brushed aside. “What… What do you means?” Toki asked, denial forcing him to make his dad repeat it just in case he had heard it wrong. When his family had first taken him in, they had started to train Toki in everything a manager and financial advisor needed to know. Now he was useless? Were they going to replace him like the replaced Uncle Magnus?
“You’re a kid, Toki. You don’t have to worry about money,” Nathan summarized as Pickles called out for him to hurry up. “Uh… Toki, stay here I guess.”
“You comings, Nathans?” came Skwisgaar’s call.
Toki remained frozen as his adoptive parent walked into the helicopter, leaving him in the large metal castle with only the klokateers who he was not allowed to have any real connection with or they would be fired. He waited for the copter to become only a tiny dot in the sky before he fell to his knees and broke down for the first time in months.
Toki cried until he had no more tears left in him and all that was coming out was dry coughing. Papa was gone. Dad ignored him. Dethklok thought he was useless. He could practically hear Reverend Wartooth’s voice in his head mocking him about how useless he was. What was he going to do? Where was he to go?
Uncle Magnus.
Uncle Magnus had given him a piece of paper at the funeral with his contact information and offered him a place to stay. Uncle Magnus always seemed to understand him the most.
Before he knew it, Toki found himself marching down the halls to his room and throwing all his possessions in one of Papa’s old suitcases. In a fury of motion, Deddy-bear, his medication, his books, his clothes, and the last model he had done with Papa was fit into the black bag. He was leaving the castle model kit and Magnus’s old guitar behind. They were relics of an old life that he would want to forget as soon as possible.
“My lord, what are you doing?” A klokateer asked from his doorway, startling Toki as he reached up for some stationary on a high shelf to write a note to his former family.
“Ams none of your busy-eye-ness,” Toki said with a glare at the hooded figure as he pulled down a sheet of paper and a pen. Something hit him on his head and landed on his desk. His necklace. He’d forgotten about that necklace.
Toki’s breath hitched as he ran his long index finger along the now worn engraving on the amber pendant. This was a relic too. He still wasn’t sure why he had taken it or why he had worn it for years and never taken it off. Why had he kept something he’d stolen from such a mean man as the reverend? He grasped the stone in his hand and squeezed all his anger out, surprised when he began to hear the sound of cracking. He opened his hand to see a long crack had ripped through the rune on the stone. Perhaps he should leave this behind too.
“My lord? Are you injured?” Asked the klokateer who still had not vanished after Toki had ordered him away.
“I said leaves!” Toki screamed at him.
The klokateer continued to ignore him. “But, my lord, where are you going? Your father will not be pleased if you are gone by the time he and the others get home.”
“My father am deads. Nathans wonts notice,” Toki promised. He then scribbled a quick note of three lines and a signature to the band with one hand as he held the pendant with the other. ‘I’m sorry. Gone to Uncle Magnus. Goodbye.- Toki Ofdensen’ He placed the note on his pillow. “Ifs they notice, I wrote note.”
Then ignoring any further protest from the klokateer, he strode past him out of the room and walked to the front gate, grabbing a parachute off the wall and strapped it to his back. Then he walked across the metal lawn to say goodbye for what he thought was the last time and up to the stone altar where he had buried his papa’s remains. “I’s sorrys, Papa. I so sorrys, but I cants stay heres I gots to go. Goodbye.”
On impulse, he threw the pendant at the altar and heard another cracking sound. Real amber did not break that easily, so the pendant was probably only amber colored after all. All this time, Toki thought he had stolen something valuable when he had really just stolen some cheap trinket. It figures.
With a hallow chuckle, Toki approached the edge of the house, took a deep breath and jumped just as a figure appeared as if by magic on the altar.
To be continued…
/ / / / / / / (o. }=>

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Frost Blue Eyes