Work Text:
From the back of his head to the heel of his foot, Nier was caked in mud. It'd had time to dry, get wet, dry, and get wet again over the course of their journey, all thanks to the drifts of rain glooming over the southern plains. But even the itchy mud, the scrapes and bruises, the dampness of his clothes, and the ensuing chill were the least annoying things about the trek home.
"You know you wouldn't be in this sorry state, all muddy, wet, moody, and cold, if you'd just held onto me while you crossed the creek," Weiss admonished him yet again.
Nier could have avoided falling on his ass with spectacular gracelessness by using Weiss. Instead of taking the help, he'd wallowed around in the mud until he managed to slither out of the shallow water. But still, he made his choice. That was that. He was the one covered in muck, and no one saw him complaining.
"I don't need a handhold,” Nier stated coldly as he stalked along the trail.
"So it's a matter of pride? Self sufficiency?” Weiss asked as he watched Nier shiver, “then why do you let me do much of the work in battle when we are amidst shades?"
The trees crowding along the trail's edge shivered in the cool gusts sweeping up from the plains. Rain sprinkled softly from their leaves.
"That's… different," Nier replied.
"You trust me with blood magic but not crossing a creek. Logical."
They’d gone around and around with the topic at least three times, Nier growing quieter and more agitated with each turn, and still Weiss wasn’t dropping it.
“Excuse me for not wanting to try and balance while hanging off a book,” Nier snipped.
“Well, if you hadn’t taken that needless detour for that errant glint in the bushes, we’d have been here before the storm rolled through, and thus the bank wouldn’t have been muddy from rainwater,” Weiss pointed out.
Nier thought about that choice, and decided solemnly, "the moss was worth it.”
“Worth smelling like a wet dog?”
“Look." Nier scowled at his companion, his breath fogging around him. "It was only hard to balance because my legs were killing me.”
Weiss shook himself, as if to roll his eyes. “If you’d taken my advice and not stepped through that thicket, you wouldn’t have those briar scratches along your ankles.”
Nier glowered up through the wet strands of hair dangling over his brow.
“You look like a drowned squirrel, slathered in mud.”
With a shake of his head, Nier turned away from Weiss, exasperated. He went back to silence, hoping Weiss would take the hint and shut up.
That didn’t work. No surprise.
Nier shivered, sniffling, but he was too mad to even fear a cold. If the illness showed itself he'd rip its head off.
The trees gave way, and after an agonizing period of time, reprieve was in sight. The gates of the village stood tall, the old iron hulks glistening from the waning rain.
“Ah, finally! Civilization!" Weiss then added quietly, "or at least this place’s approximation of the thing."
Nier said nothing, acknowledging the guards posted at the southern gates with a grunt. They nodded their approval of the two's entry, only exchanging a look as they got an eyeful of Nier's muddied rear.
Once inside, Nier turned aside at the watermill and motioned for Weiss to follow him.
“Look, I’m going to check in on Yonah,” he explained, sniffling again.
“Yes?”
Nier let out a breath, glancing off toward the village center. His eyes flicked back to Weiss. “I want to go alone.”
“Ohhhhh, I see,” Weiss hummed sagely, “quality time, is it?”
“Yeah.” Something like that.
“Well, don’t let me keep you. And do warm up by a fire. You sound stuffy and gross.”
Nier nodded, mud flaking off his leathers as he readjusted his straps. He looked back up at Weiss, warning, “whatever you do, don’t repeat yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” Weiss sounded surprised.
Nier attempted to jog the old man's memory, “remember how you got into that argument with the man in the market? And guards got involved? Because you threw beans at him?”
“OH!" Weiss tipped backwards, recalling the event as if it were a fond memory. "That imbecile with the mislabeled produce. He really could have killed someone with those. Humans do have allergies.”
“Don’t call him that," Nier said.
“An imbecile? Why?” Weiss was honest in his query.
“It’s rude.”
“Ah, so you agree with me.”
The corners of Nier's frown pulled down even more severely.
“That is a yes,” Weiss surmised.
“That was a no," Nier corrected, "I can’t afford to piss off everyone I know."
“Technically it'd be me doing the pissing off," Weiss corrected Nier in turn, smug.
“I brought you into the village. When you make a villager angry, it's on me too," Nier explained, tapping a fist to his bare, freezing chest, "these people have shown me kindness every day. I owe them. We owe them.”
“How do we owe them?”
“They give me work.”
“Ahhh," Weiss feigned a pleasing tone, "those mind-numbingly mundane or mind-bogglingly dangerous tasks that no sane person would carry out for a pittance of compensation?”
Nier grumbled, not wanting to engage with this topic further. He was too tired and itchy and cold to make sense of Weiss’ words.
“You should increase your rate," Weiss kept going.
Nier responded, trying to end the discussion, “I’m just helping them help me out.”
“Why?”
Why, why, why… why did the grimoire get tossed in a fireplace? A question for the ages, Nier thought.
“Because…” Nier dawdled on the word, trying to come up with a reason that'd shut the old book up.
Weiss spoke again, leaning into Nier as he hissed, “it seems like they’re utilizing you as one would a very finely made weapon mistaken for a crude rake.”
Nier took a step back, lips curling. “Don’t say THAT to them.”
“What?"
Nier took a step back, speaking in a more hushed voice, “don't say that anyone’s using me."
“But they are," Weiss at least had the decency to not shout this where any passerby could hear. He spoke hushed. "It is so brazen. I'm sure it's not maliciously premeditated, but…" Weiss trailed off, insinuating things.
Nier glared at him long and hard. The watermill bumped along behind them, and the chickens who loved to pick along the southern walls had long retreated to safety. The resentment was palpable.
"I didn't realize that the legendary White Grimoire would be such a jerk,” Nier growled, and then gestured to the valley and village around them, “do you seriously not understand anything about how this works?”
"Being a legend should mean you heed my words, mortal," Weiss asserted, his persona growing ever more cartoonish to Nier, “however, these words are only my opinion—my ancient and wizened opinion."
"I don't care if you're a legend or a god or whatever!” Nier’s voice rose. “If you can't be considerate of the people around us then—” he wanted to give the grimoire an ultimatum, but he couldn’t really afford to piss off the only hope he had. He bit his tongue, brows furrowing.
Weiss let out a breath, like the rustling of pages. "You don’t have to take my advice on increasing your rates if you really do think so poorly of your services."
If Nier had been one fraction more uncomposed, he might’ve swung for the grimoire. Weiss had no idea how much better things were now.
Nier tightened his fists, tendon and muscle drawing taut. “I don’t think lowly of myself. I’m not employed. I take what work I can get.”
“And who here could employ one so skilled as you?" Weiss insisted on reasoning, "surely the village has a stable job for a grown man with so many capabilities.”
“They don’t,” Nier spoke through his teeth.
“Oh, really? One of these gates isn’t even manned half of the time. You’d shape the oafs at guard up in no time with how you hustle and bustle around." Weiss levelled his dead silver eyes at Nier. "Why don’t you demand a post?”
“This is what I’m good at, Weiss," Nier tugged at the supplies slung over his shoulder, goods he had ferried from Seafront that no one else was brave enough to retrieve. "You can’t seem to wrap that huge head of yours around it. I’m not your average villager.”
With a lingering once-over of the man's beleaguered and ragged shape, Weiss stated, "at this rate, I’d liken you more to the piece of carpet patrons wipe their feet on before they go inside the tavern.”
Nier’s eyes flashed with fury, but he quickly routed himself and turned on his heel, stalking away from Weiss several paces. He stormed back to Weiss, fuming, only barely restraining himself.
“We won’t find the Sealed Verses if I just sit around at the village,” he snarled.
“We won’t find any Sealed Verses fulfilling shopping lists, either,” Weiss retorted.
“Yeah, but at least we’re getting out of the village!" Nier waved an arm back toward the gate, his breaths fogging the air wildly. "We cover new ground every day we’re out there! We meet people! I may as well make enough money to eat while we’re at it.”
“No wonder you suffer from such poor nutrition, eating on these wages," Weiss was utterly unmoved by how the man snapped.
Nier snorted in disgust, dismissing Weiss. “Alright, this conversation isn’t going anywhere."
"I am merely looking after your own interest because you clearly choose to not." Weiss remained staunch.
"Right.” Nier didn’t engage further. His fury was wasted on the stubborn old man. “I’m heading home. Don’t stir up anything. I’ll be back soon.”
Weiss watched him trudge homeward in his sorry state; a rotten feeling gnawed within.
I was trying to help…
As much as Weiss disliked arguing with someone he cared about a great deal (regrettably), he hated being alone more. Precisely, he hated thinking alone. Without the warm hum of conversation, the void began to grow. Even a white-hot argument was better than nothing. He’d take contempt over the quiet where questions flanked him like jackals.
Why can’t I recall anything from my past other than basic facts? There has got to be some way to accomplish my task that doesn’t involve bumming around a feeble little village. I have got to keep this man alive long enough to see his daughter cured. But how…?
Nier had disappeared, swallowed by the crowd and market stalls.
Weiss felt as though he needed to be a bit more… tactful from now on. The infuriating trip to and fro Seafront had put him on edge, and what was worse, finding out the pay Nier took for such an arduous task was beyond insulting. The grimoire was boiling, and he couldn’t fathom how Nier didn’t have the capacity to be insulted for himself.
He supposed this was the man’s lot in life, and perhaps Nier had done something to win the village’s ire that Weiss had no clue about. Still… the injustice of it all was too much for the grimoire. At the very least, Yonah deserved better for her father’s sake.
Weiss skirted around the market, avoiding the source of yesterday’s problems altogether by traveling along the outer wall of town, swooping over the roofs and chimneys like a large, flat bird.
Overcast skies only sought to bring out the dingy atmosphere of the village. Gone was the rustic charm, and in its place the quickly shifting sands of the lives around him came into focus. To his mind, a storm could billow up suddenly and wash away the humans' efforts in a wink of an eye.
I am an immortal grimoire who is prophesied to save the world from the scrawl and the wicked black grimoire? Hmph. This world is awfully pathetic to spend the time saving, though I’m sure its mortal residents have no frame of reference for how good it should be. A pity.
He had no natural fear of the elements of sun, wind or rain. Even though they took their toll, his body ceaselessly regenerated pages. It grew new leather; it worked to fill the marks on his silver. Even over the course of the scant period he’d been free of the Shrine and his long slumber, he was losing his dull patina and regaining his rightful metallic sheen. The blood stored within him nourished the magic that constructed and repaired his physical form.
In this manner, he pitied the decaying objects around him. Rotting wooden trusses, crumbling masonry, rusting iron, cracked parchment, ragged leathers… to a human these were all inert, mundane, but to Weiss it was gruesome in its own way. The closest a human could come to this was to see meat decomposing, nails cracking and curling, bones growing dry and brittle, hair rotting; all flesh returning to naught.
A broken, dying world, and I am its savior, some amnesic grimoire who is scared to be alone with his own thoughts. Fitting.
He had the inkling that he was perhaps pushing Nier away, but he knew he’d be back. Yonah was counting on Weiss being able to cure her.
Hm. Weiss didn’t like that. Not the part where he cured a sick child, but the part where Nier felt obligated to grin and bear the chastising for her sake. If he and Nier were to continue to argue, he had to assure that they were both on equal footing.
Weiss, for the first time since he could recall, felt obligated to try and indulge the man’s point of view, if only to make him feel better about his oath to fight by Weiss’ side for eternity (or as long as a human could live). He meandered around the valley, trying his best to bide his time in the most inoffensive ways imaginable, all of which were stunningly boring.
He approached the fountain, drawn to the burbling sounds and the deep, grainy streaks adorning such an ancient thing. He peered into the basin, his own reflection dancing in the ripples. He pondered how a shabby place could afford such a feature, much less knew how to keep it running. Most settlements had wells for their water. This was so… fancy.
Weiss wondered if he could get in.
No, no, that would disturb the peace.
But… the idea was tempting. Letting the water massage his leathers and rid his grooves and pages of flecks of dirt and debris would be nice. Weiss moved toward the water, stretching out a cover to test it.
A lady, impossibly wrinkled, woke from a doze as she finally perceived his presence. Weiss flipped around, snapping himself shut. He returned the stare, trying not to look like he'd been up to something.
As he scrutinized the old woman couldn't help but note that even she, in all her years and with hoary head, had only lived one lifetime, an inconsequential drop compared to the lifetimes Weiss knew he’d lived, but could no longer remember.
Great, a test subject. If he could not be kind to an old lady whom everyone in the village adored, then there was no use in him even trying.
“Hello, book,” the old woman addressed him, already insulting him deeply with such a crass moniker, “you’re Nier’s new…” she searched for an appropriate term. Ironic.
“I am Grimoire Weiss, his traveling companion,” Weiss introduced himself, presenting his most amicable voice as he hovered toward her.
“Ah, yes. I'd say your Nier’s hope, but that works too,” she nodded, and continued to chat, “I’ve never seen a thing like you, but heard stories of how powerful flying books are. Nier is lucky to have met such a nice one.”
“A nice flying book?” Weiss abated his offense.
“Yes, yes, he told everyone at the tavern that you’re going to help him save his sweet lil’ girl. I've never seen him so talkative. He's shy normally," the old lady said, chuckling, "everyone’s so scared of him but the truth is he’s just as scared of them! Good thing you don’t fear anyone, being a magic book, eh?”
"So he's spreading the news all over…" Weiss grumbled, mostly to himself. “I trust he’s not overselling my capabilities.”
She nodded sagely, but then added, “you will help us all. I know it.”
Weiss wasn’t sure if that was a threat or an extension of her goodwill. Probably both.
“I hope you’re enjoying the village," she mentioned serenely, “it’s a modest place, probably not so interesting to you, but I think it’s got charm. I would know, been here for forever!”
She cackled at her own ‘joke’. Weiss made some sort of sound to show he was ‘amused’ as well.
“Mmm. I suppose it is a change of pace to where I slumbered," he glanced around, catching sight of a few children playing some sort of game by chasing each other around a tree. One of them screamed as the other caught up and tackled them to the ground. "More lively, for sure.”
“Oh, yes,” she gestured to her grandkids, her voice warmer now, “we’ve many children here. The village is well protected in this valley, so we can let ‘em run around, too. It’s a blessing. Not many monsters challenge our walls. I’m surprised they let you in, but it makes sense, with Nier and all.”
“You're surprised?" Weiss was curious. "But you speak highly of me. Why wouldn’t they let me in?”
“Well, none of the legends about flyin’ books are any good," she informed him, leaning heavily into her cane, "just goes to show: we trust Nier’s judgment on these things.”
None of the legends…? Had this lady never heard of the Song of the Ancients?
The old woman continued to speak of Nier, “he worked in the business of it all. Least, more than anyone in the village.”
“The business of…?” Weiss trailed off.
“Of magical creatures and treasures. Was part of a whole guild of the kind.”
“A guild of people who know the arcane?" This was certainly a development to Weiss. "He doesn’t act like it.”
“He's not a wizard, dear. He just says he's used to dealin’ with all that magical stuff like shades and whatnot. Smarter than he looks," the old lady clarified, raising the droopy folds of her eyelids enough to get a good look at Weiss. "Seems like he was right to trust you: If you were a bad book, you’d have sucked out his life force by now, eh?”
Weiss was at a loss for words, repeating, “...sucked out his life force?”
“It’s just what the stories say, pardon,” she apologized, “the old songs talk about flyin' books draining people’s lives away.”
Several things clicked in Weiss’ mind. Superstition was at play in this culture, but of course! How could he be so dense?!
“Interesting. Well, I’ll let you know that I have no intentions o f sucking the life force out of any humans.”
“That’s nice, dear,” she replied blithely.
Weiss watched the children rolling around on the still-damp ground, getting just about as muddy as Nier.
“CAREFUL!” the old woman called out, her vocal chords warbling from years of use.
Her grandkids seemed to barely register the command, but still one could discern that the wrestling was a touch less violent.
Weiss switched his focus back to the old woman. “I’d like to hear one of these songs about grimoires.”
“Hm? Oh. Good luck with that. Devola is the only one that remembers most of them, but she stopped singing about that years ago,” she responded, reminiscing, “most of the kids ain’t never heard of things like you. But I remember. The Phoenix Lament, now that’s a classic grimoire tragedy. It’s violent too.”
It was somehow disconcerting to see her grin at the memory.
“Do you not recall any details of the song’s message?” Weiss pressed, ravenous for details.
“Mmm, a grimoire, rebirthing itself from ashes, over and over. I think that part was figurative. But the scary part is that the grimoire lost all their memories, so they ended up killing their friends. Then they hid away among books of the not-flyin' type, never to be seen again. Or something like that. It’s been a long time.”
“That’s…” Weiss was shocked, his tone deadpan. “That is… a sad tale.”
“Do you got a more happy tale of your kind, book?” she asked him, earnest, “I’d love to hear it. We people tend to play up the ghoulishness of life.”
Weiss cleared his ‘throat’, putting on his most stoic voice, “I’m afraid I’m out of time, but when I meet you next, I shall regale you with a tale so lavish you’ll dream of it the rest of your days.”
The old lady laughed, finding the sudden bravado endearing, “that’ll be the day! Now don’t wait too long. I’m not gonna live forever.”
“I shan’t forget.” Weiss returned caringly, and then quickly took his leave.
He sped away, climbing the hill to the east, arriving at the libraries’ front pathway. Within the small courtyard’s walls, he stewed in his thoughts.
I don’t remember anything about life as a grimoire. It’s all empty pages. Nothing, nothing, NOTHING. That was a tragedy of memory loss. Could that mean that–
“Oh, say… sir, could you give this to Popo–?”
“AUAUGH.”
Weiss vaulted over the wall, quick enough to make a whistling sound and tear up the ivy creeping along its cracks. Stunned, the gangly man stuffed the letter back into his pocket, kicking at the ground awkwardly. He merely wanted to ask the grimoire for a favor. He was Nier’s friend, and the man thought that he would be kind like Nier and carry out the deed, but it appeared that the book was too shy.
The man deflated, going back to milling around the garden, attempting to muster the courage to deliver the letter that confessed his deepest admiration for the sweet, sweet Popola.
Weiss had meanwhile flown into a tree. He grounded himself by hiding in its branches, as no one could see him in the clumps of leaves. The privacy served to soothe his nerves. For a while, he engaged in the practice that Nier had perfected: thinking of nothing.
The subtle rustle of life and the patter of soft rain filled the deadness left by the lack of motion in his mind. His pages slowed likewise, and finally froze. Wind rippled through the valley, and the tree shimmered in air's embrace. Peace.
With his mind empty, he returned to his thoughts, invigorated by the lack of cogitation. Perhaps there was something to the simple man’s methods after all! He then posted up outside Nier’s house, waiting for the man to emerge. A terrible cough came from the upstairs window, and something deep within Weiss' jaded heart lurched.
He waited more patiently.
As if on cue, Nier stepped outside, blinking in the sudden light as the sun peeked through the clouds. He smiled at that, taking in a soothing breath. With his hair and getup combed free of mud, he looked halfway presentable. Nier then noticed Weiss hovering beside the stoop and frowned.
Weiss greeted him, “took you long enough. I thought my body might finally rot where I float."
Nier grit his teeth and instead of saying something like 'I don't get much time with my daughter, not that someone like you would understand,' and said instead as he walked into the yard, "hello to you too."
Weiss hummed a half-hearted response, following him. "We'd best be off to do… whatever it is we have to do next. Her cough is getting worse."
Well, at least he’s concerned about Yonah, Nier thought, one thing we have in common.
“Sure. But first,” he said, gesturing for Weiss to hover in front of him, “come here.”
An odd request, but Weiss obliged, hovering closer. Nier reached to grasp for a corner to pull him yet closer, but Weiss shied away, inspecting the man’s hand and himself with great offense.
“I need to see something,” Nier explained to the baffled grimoire.
“I know a yokel such as you has never seen a refined creature such as myself, but please, show some manners,” Weiss warned him.
“You’re not the first Grimoire I’ve met,” Nier mentioned offhandedly, “not even close.”
That piqued Weiss’ interest. So the old lady had been correct! “Oh? What is this about these other grimoires…?”
“Nothing," Nier said bluntly. He didn't have the time or patience to go into his 'backstory'. "Just seen a few talking books. You’re nothing new.”
“You say this was such bitterness," Weiss judged his tone.
He dragged a hand down his face, muttering, "it’s nothing personal. I just want to get on with my life.”
“As do I.”
“Good.”
They stood there and stared at one another, utterly miserable looking.
“Don’t just stand there slack-jawed,” Weiss urged him, “what do you need?”
Nier closed his mouth, not even realizing he had had it open to begin with, and shot the Grimoire a dirty look.
“Ya gotta…” Nier didn’t know how to word this in a way that didn’t sound wrong. “...spread your… er, or… uh… open up for me? I need to see your pages, so I can… check something in you before we head off.”
He got the distinct feeling that Weiss was giving him a raised brow, even though he knew that the Grimoire’s face wasn’t actually moving.
Weiss swung open midair, revealing his off-white interior.
“I can’t see things when you’re up so high,” Nier complained.
“…maybe if you call me by my proper name I’d be more lent to adjust myself, hmmmm?”
Nier had never had his itinerary talk back to him.
This quest is shaping up to be a real pain in the ass with this sassy notebook .
With an exhale, Nier stamped out the few remaining embers of his pride. “Grimoire Weiss… I need to read you.”
To show his appreciation Weiss immediately lowered to a comfortable reading level for Nier.
“You may even hold me like a proper tome now, if you wish,” Weiss couldn’t mask how happy that simple address had made him.
At least he's happy.
Nier had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. He reached up and took hold of Weiss, slapping a hand directly over the Grimoire's ‘face’. Weiss yelped and fluttered away. Though his expression hadn’t noticeably changed, the outrage blared at Nier.
“Uh, oops… forgot you had a—uh…” he said sheepishly.
“A face?” Weiss supplied.
“Yeah…”
Nier reached forward to hold the Grimoire again, and was met with an aura of contempt. Weiss hovered just out of reach.
“No mere mortal has ever held me so irreverently before,” he spoke gravely, voice trembling for effect, “the fact that you have not been reduced to a puddle for your insolence is a miracle!”
All this did was make Nier want to slap him harder.
“Let’s try this again. And do be less uncivilized,” Weiss quieted his tone to a patronizing whisper as he drifted back into range.
Nier smiled. Unkindly.
He gingerly placed his hand on the spine of the Grimoire, trying to stymie the thoughts of ‘I wonder how many pages I can yank out of this guy before he lops my head off? ’
He couldn’t do that. Yonah needed this book. Nier could put up with him for a while. Besides, he’d done far worse than argue with a grumpy old man on his quest to save his daughter.
And Nier was going to get back to that quest now. He needed a missing piece of info in Weiss to fill the next order, and so he attempted to read the Grimoire. The simple task of reading was harder than a person would think.
For one thing, the text kept moving. Nier thought he was crazy at first, but no. He caught a sentence reshuffle down the page, and then a punctuation mark floated off, and next a whole clause faded away.
“Stop moving the words around,” Nier demanded.
“Hm? Oh, right. Paltry linear comprehension,” the Grimoire mumbled, and in a moment the movements of his text froze.
Nier could finally focus, and started scanning the contents. The requirements for the job weren’t on this page, so he reached over to turn to the next.
“Ah! Ah!” the Grimoire protested, pushing away.
“What?!”
“No one turns my pages! Especially not with such filthy fingers.”
“Then what am I supposed to do!?”
“Say ‘next page, please’,” Weiss instructed him, even imitating his voice as if to mock his deep voice.
Nier inhaled deeply, his brow creasing more than usual. “Next page.”
After a long moment of silence, it was clear that Weiss was waiting on the ‘please’.
Maybe Nier couldn’t handle this grumpy old man.
“ …please,” he relented.
The next page rolled over luxuriantly, revealing more odd jobs. Finally, the one Nier needed!
He attempted to commit the list of supplies the customer asked for to memory. But as he did his preoccupying anger towards the Grimoire faded, and he began to focus on… other things about him…
The metal decorating Weiss was warm, crawling and curling subtly under his fingers. And the leather was so much worse. It was pulsing as if there were some heartbeat within. Nier moved his fingers across the humming scrollwork, trying to find a reprieve from the wretched living thing. He wanted to drop the Grimoire, but if he did he doubted he'd ever get the 'privilege' to read Weiss back.
Still, he could feel it. His mind raced as he imagined the dark, arcane text imbued inside the creature’s pages slithering up his fingers and over his hands, marking his skin with black symbols–with scrawl . His heart throbbed and his teeth grit. He did his all to push past the irrational fear.
Weiss is supposed to cure the disease. He’s not the black book, he’s the white book. He’s rude, but he’s good. He’s the good guy. He's the good guy.
Nier kept reassuring himself, losing focus on memorizing the details of the job entirely. He clutched the grimoire by the sides, and as he pressed his thumb to the paper, he felt something akin to warm, moist skin. The book shivered in response to the press of his finger, letting out a squirm and a huff, as if he'd been tickled.
Nier recoiled, dropping Weiss. The Grimoire fell a few inches, flapping with shock.
Nier cringed. Audibly.
“WHY YOU–!” Weiss blustered, and then caught himself, “I allow you to touch me with your disgusting appendages and then you fling me away?! Why?!”
“Uh… er!” Nier tried to straighten his face, wondering if Weiss could catch the glint of sweat on him, “I was… surprised. By something. That’s all.”
“Surprised?” Weiss hovered up to his normal height, appraising Nier's features.
“I just didn’t expect you to be so…” Nier’s gaze wandered to anywhere but Weiss. “…alive?”
“And what is that supposed to mean?!” Weiss tilted, expectant.
“Well, uh, books aren’t… normally so… warm and… they don’t… move… or feel… and stuff.”
“Well of course they’d not. Books aren’t alive, and I’m not a book, now am I?” the Grimoire corrected with no reservation of disdain. “I thought I was nothing new to you. I thought you were an expert on my kind, but it seems you know even less than some old lady on the side of the road.”
Nier answered sheepishly, “I’ve never touched a grimoire before. Don’t think I ever want to again.”
"So you’re afraid?"
"What? No,” Nier wrinkled his nose.
"Then why did you jump away from me?"
“I didn’t.”
“You did! I saw you!”
"I thought I felt a spider…" Nier was too peeved to think of a better excuse.
"Mmm, sure," Weiss was utterly bemused, "a spider. On my body. That I did not notice myself."
"Didn't say it was there. It felt like it."
"So I feel like a spider?" Weiss concluded.
"Can you just tell me what the grocer needed?!” Nier jerked the conversation forward.
Weiss gave him a stern once-over. "I think you're scared of me. I think that’s why you didn’t want to touch me when you crossed the creek, and why you spasmed at my mere movements seconds ago."
"I’m not scared." Nier tried his best to stand up, his muscles tightening. He only looked nervous. “Not of you.”
Weiss hovered very close to Nier's face, violating every personal boundary. "If we are to be successful on our quest we must at least be comfortable with each other."
"Sure," Nier growled into the Grimoire’s metal facing.
"Hold me,” Weiss commanded.
Nier jerked his head back, his jaw tucking in so tightly it disappeared in folds of skin. "...what."
"HOLD ME,” Weiss challenged him!
"FINE!" Nier reached up suddenly and awkwardly slid his hand along Weiss’ spine, trying to balance him without touching his covers. Or anything. He hated how Weiss felt, especially now that he was thinking about it. He was sure he was cursed from holding this abomination of a book.
He kept fumbling around with Weiss, jostling his covers around as he flinched at the Grimoire's lively exterior.
Weiss was enraged by the ordeal, crying out, "oh, bother! This is taking too long! You’ll NEVER learn.”
He attempted to dart away, but Nier clamped down hard enough to give himself papercuts. He wasn’t done, and wasn't willing to back down on the challenge. Nier wouldn’t have this little shit thinking he was a coward. “...how do I hold you properly?”
Weiss wrenched himself free and spun around. He glowered at Nier as best as an expressionless grimoire could.
“…why the sudden interest? You seemed all too eager to be rid of my touch moments ago.”
“What if I have to pick you up for some reason,” Nier elaborated, reaching for anything, “like if you can’t fly…”
“Pah! As if Grimoire Weiss would ever be incapable of levitation!” Weiss boasted, though he found the idea a bit mortifying. He could not grasp being unable to go where he wanted on a whim.
“Bad stuff can happen. I’m just sayin’…” Nier said.
“Fine! Fine,” Weiss gave in, ordering him sternly as he hovered into reach, “just hold me along the sides.”
Nier awkwardly gripped his covers by the sides, his knuckles bulging from how tense his fingers were over the book.
“Relax!” Weiss snapped, “have you not read from a book before?!"
Nier swallowed, trying not to focus on the smell he noticed wafting from Weiss. It smelled… weird. Not bad, but weird. Like any person's unique musk.
Weiss continued, "oh, what am I saying? Of course you haven’t read a book.”
Nier’s nose wrinkled at the offense, and he retorted, “I’ve read books! Sometimes I fold the cover over backwards and hold ‘em in one hand so I—”
“SWEET LORD, DON’T DO THAT!” Weiss bucked out of his clenched hands, crying in outrage, “what are you!? A cave troll!?”
“Maybe I am…” Nier grumped, crossing his arms.
Weiss shook himself, as if to dislodge the image of Nier ruining books from his mind. He could clearly envision the beast of a man cleaving books in twain with his meaty hands and ripping bits of paper out with his crooked teeth.
After a minute to cool down, Nier calmly proposed, “what if you rested in the crook of my arm?”
Weiss stirred, his voice no longer pinched, “…what? How?”
“Here,” Nier curled his arm up, the mere motion coiling his muscles up. He tapped the nook between his forearm and bicep.
Weiss still didn’t follow, not quite. Or maybe he was just too caught up in how horrifyingly swollen this man’s arms were compared to other specimens of his species.
Fascinating anatomy...
Nier reached out and attempted to guide the book down with a gentle tug. The Grimoire allowed this, and was nudged into place. His spine rested against Nier’s forearm with the man’s hand laid over his crown, securing him in place.
“See? Now you can rest, I can hold ya up, and you can open and do whatever,” Nier explained, almost happy sounding due to his incredible solution.
Weiss could feel the tendons moving as the man’s fingers pressed the soft hinge of his covers.
“Hm, yes. Very good…” he tried to not focus on the strange meat moving around behind him. The oils in Nier’s skin threatened to warp and degrade his binding. How horrifying…
Shoving the intrusive thoughts aside, Weiss opened up, testing out his range of motion. Nier's bicep pressed into his open chapters, parting his pages gently. Weiss stifled a wretch. He could not help but imagine the hinge of flesh crushing him and creasing his pages.
Nier held him there for a second, just staring at him with earnest interest. Weiss had no idea what to say, now that he was the one who felt squeamish.
“Alright then! We have that sorted!” Weiss slammed shut and scooted away, flying out of holding range.
Nier smiled, finding the role reversal humorous. It was a bizarre expression for him, but not one Weiss could say he minded seeing.
Perhaps they had… bonded? That would be quite beneficial. It was a thing humans did when they liked each other.
“Now, what about that errand?” Weiss tried to direct the attention off of himself and onto the task at hand.
"I got the list of junk to drop off down, I think." Nier couldn’t quite wipe the smirk off his face.
“JUNK? Oh, for the love of…" Weiss held off, fearing to overshadow this pivotal human-grimoire bonding moment.
But he couldn't help himself. "Why do you let these fools run you around on such tedious errands? You have far more important matters to attend to!"
Nier switched off, darkness returning to his features. "If you really can't stand me I'm sure you can find another person to travel with."
Weiss was outraged. "I think not!"
"How come?" Nier really wanted to hear this.
"Tabling the fact that you are my chosen as you have sworn an oath of undying loyalty to me, and even considering that you are irksomely misguided and refuse my wise counsel at every turn," Weiss rattled off his points with annoyance, "I'd still take you and your… gumption… over any of the other apathetic fools in town."
Nier sucked at his cheek, deeply considering how the hell Weiss' mind operated.
"Is that a compliment?"
"No."
Nier blinked at that. "Huh."
"Did I answer your question?"
"Yeah. I think so?"
Nier believed Weiss liked him, genuinely, but this grimoire had to be the worst person on the planet when it came to showing that preference.
"We should get that junk to its recipient," Weiss pressed, already impatient before the trip had even begun.
"The junk? Oh, yeah. But that's not the best part of this trip." Nier smirked knowingly.
"Best part?" Weiss was filled with dread.
Nier took some sort of sick pleasure in delivering the killing blow. “Fragile package delivery. Your favorite.”
Weiss was silent with contempt.
"Don't be so grumpy, Weiss," Nier spoke almost jovially, revelling in the misery enveloping his companion, “jobs like these are kinda fun if you look at 'em right.”
“'Fun’ you say,” Weiss repeated, his voice strung high, ready to snap like a bolt of lightning. He then surmised, keeping the pressure inside, “if this is your idea of fun, I believe we have very different vantages on life.”
“They say opposites attract,” Nier replied, a hint of a threat in his voice, “let’s see if they knew what the hell they were talking about.”
Weiss matched that threat with his own, "let's."