"...And done!"
It took a while, but Ime finally did it—she finally completed the flower crown. Speaking of flowers, she hadn't thought that she would be able to find any when this entire server seemed like a primary ice biome, but while reluctantly walking with her Patron, she'd managed to stumble upon a little field of blue flowers.
At the time, she was too relieved to escape the unbearable silence to really think about it, but why was the space around Fenrir so warm when everywhere else was cold?
While placing the flower crown on her Patron's head, and admiring how he looked surprisingly good in it, she asked, "Hey, Jörmungandr, how come it's all warm here when the outside is so cold? It's got something to do with your brother, but what exactly does he do?"
Her Patron, who still looked down at her even when sitting, mumbled, "...He talks to it... I think..."
"...Huh?"
The sunset eyes swiveled to her, measuring the confusion on her face before elaborating, "Well... I'm a serpent, right?"
"Yeah, and?"
"So, as a serpent who... lived... underwater, I can speak to it; it listens. Fenrir lived in the cold... so he speaks, and it listens... we also have Jotun in us... so..."
"Jotun? Speaks? Wait, what do you mean by 'speaks'?"
"..."
It was clear Ime was not informed about the first thing about Norse mythology if she was unable to tell what a Jotun was, let alone understand Jörmungandr's lineage. So, he resorted to an explanation with as few words as possible.
"Giants."
"...Giants?"
He nodded his head while Ime stared at him, confused yet somehow mortified.
"...I mean, you're tall but... giant? I wouldn't say that..."
"...I can... adjust my height... It's preference so..."
"HUH?!"
Ime stared at her Patron with wonder—so he could change his height at will? How cracked a power was that?! Could he shrink down to the size of a pea, or grow to the size of a redwood tree? What were the limits of his height?
'Gahh, my head's gonna explode with all these questions at this rate! I can feel the headache coming on already—oh, why did that stupid mark have to make me even more curious than I already was about everything!'
"So," she mumbled out, holding her head as her mind filled with questions, "you're like a slinky?"
Her Patron blinked, eyes slightly wider before he tilted his head and inquired, "...Slinky?"
"Yeah," she continued, her head beginning to really hurt at this rate, "they're like toys. It's a coil of springy, wire or something that can expand and contract. They're pretty fun to play with..."
"Oh. I... didn't know that..."
"Yup! Happy to help!"
"I see..."
"..."
"..."
The silence held, and slowly, the enthusiastic but pained face of Ime deflated, leaving behind a somewhat annoyed expression at the silence.
"..."
"... Aren't you gonna say thank you? Y'know, since I taught you something new? Come to think of it, you didn't even say thank you when I made you the crown, or agreed to spend time with you... do you just don't care or what?"
Jörmungandr just blinked twice, as if befuddled and stump by the question. Even then, he stayed silent, and the silence got to Ime.
She slouched, sulking. "I get it, I get it, doesn't matter what a human does for you, or something or other right—"
"What's 'thank you'?"
"...Huh?"
Blindsided, she did not, or rather could not, understand the question for a moment.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait," she stuttered, waving her arms somewhat eccentrically. "So, you mean to tell me that you—you have never been thanked for something?"
"...What's it mean?"
"'Thank you'? It means that someone appreciates something you've done. To thank is to acknowledge what was done for you, and to let the other person understand that that made you happy. So, you've never been appreciated by someone?"
Jörmungandr fell into a tranquil contemplation at the question: had he ever been thanked for something?
"'You monster!'"
"'W-What is that?'"
"'We must dispose of it—it's too dangerous to be left alive, and I will not have it ending everything come Ragnarok.'"
"'Jörmungandr, run!'"
"'Wait, Father—Father! Reason with him, please, Jor does not deserve such a fate!'"
"'Very well, since we cannot yet kill that beast, we ought to at least chain it down. No more destruction can be taken by the glutton's tendencies...'"
"...No."
It was Ime's turn to blink her eyes in confusion, the ash gray irises reflected the emotionless yet somehow lonely monster's face.
"Really? The trio haven't ever told you that?"
"... Have they? ...don't know, they... tend to glare and get fired up instead..."
Ime thought back to the twins, at how Dare would yell profanities while Truth would laugh at his suffering. Meanwhile, Laura would complain and scold them—leaving a couple of sore knots on their head—and apologize for the disturbance.
However, it seemed like they had not thanked their Patron for anything yet. Perhaps it was because they were friends, and did not require thanks, as they instead showcased it, but in the process had unintentionally excluded such an example to the innocent Patron.
Maybe they were simply too scared, just as she was—after all, their Patron is a monster, and as humans they simply could not help but feel anxiety around such a subliminally dangerous existence.
However, Ime wanted to change that. Having spent time with him, she found he was really not all that bad; sure, he had his moments of oddness, but overall he was pretty decent to them.
So, she smiled.
"Well then, I guess I'll have to change that!"
She extended her hand, grabbing his own, and held the paler hand in her two smaller ones, reverently, as if in prayer.
"Thank you for answering my questions and letting me into your group. Thank you for listening to me and spending time with me. And most of all..."
Her smile widened, and she seemed so genuine, that Jörmungandr felt strangely touched.
"Thank you for making flower crowns with you and lending me a hand earlier. I really appreciate it, and I couldn't have done it without you!"
It was strange.
The 1000 year old monster, whom they all secretly both feared and revered, and was as expressionless as they came, had seemed to have finally turned into a man.
And that man looked to be on the brink of tears.