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Blitzen is head-over-the-heels, completely and irrevocably, catastrophically in love with hijab fashion.
"She just made a ribbon! On her head! Out of a single piece of fabric!" Blitz says, fascinated at the lady on the hijab tutorial video. He’s been surfing YouTube for the better part of the afternoon, watching endless fashion videos. "And that is a fabulous cerulean color. The lady knows her colors."
If Magnus is here, he’d hate because it’s blue. Samirah likes her signature green hijab just fine. There are many ways one can wear her hijab. She likes the classic drape-it-over-your-head-haphazardly style. Blitz calls her lazy.
"Look at that beautiful ribbon," Blitz says, pausing the video on the same minute again. "Wouldn't you want your hijab to look like that?"
"I can't be fashionable and fight giants at the same time, Blitzen," Samirah reasons.
"Uh-oh," Blitz raises his eyebrows. "Is that a challenge? Because I'm tellin' you, girl, I already won. See this necktie? The very same necktie that saved my life?"
"But not a ribbon," Samirah disagrees.
"Wait until you see," Blitz cracks his nuckles. "Why do you wear yours like that, anyway? Why does the lady cover her hair and you don't?"
Samirah’s expression is that of a waitress who has been asked "What would you reccomend?" a thousand times in one shift. Blitz knows the humans think of the hijab as some kind of threat, although he cannot fathom why. He likes the idea of wearing more fabrics; it only means more things to design. "Well, there are many ways you can wear your hijab," Samirah explains. "It's about personal choice, really. I, for one, don't think ribbons are very practical for battle. And my hijab is partly magic, so."
"So...no ribbons?" Blitz looks deflated.
"No," Samirah affirms. "I want something simple and practical."
"Simple, practical, and beautiful," Blitz reminds her. "Beautiful is important."
"I doubt anyone is ever going to notice my hijab's beauty on the battlefield," Samirah says.
"Samirah Al-Abbas, you wound me!" Blitz clutches his heart dramatically. "Fashion is beautiful in so many different ways. The way you dress is a reflection to who you are, the choices you made in this life. Anything I design, too, will be beautiful. And for you, I will create the most beautiful hijab the world has ever seen."
Samirah laughs. "Just nothing too flashy, alright?"
"You dare question my tastes?"
"Well, I'm high-maintenance," Samirah grins. "Blitz, whatever you designed for me, I know it's going to be absolutely beautiful."
"'Course it will," Blitz smiles smugly.
-
Designing, according to Blitz, is no easy business. Samirah doesn't need to be told that. She's watched enough episodes of Project Runway to understand just how vicious planet fashion is. Blitz takes pride in designing, everything is put together meticulously, carefully calculated, almost like putting together a machine.
"Chiffon is a huge no-no," Blitzen tells Samirah. "Too light, too thin, see-through. Not good when mixed with Paradox #6."
"Just go with cotton," Samirah tells Blitz. "It works with everything."
"Not cotton! Cotton is trashy," Blitz sounds horrified, "And you, Samirah, is anything but that. You are regal, powerful. I want people to get that cute-but-can-kill-you vibes when they see you. And cotton will not make people take you seriously."
"My hijab is cotton, and people look at me fine." Samirah reconsiders this. "Well, not really, but you know what I mean."
"It has to be silk. Thai silk is very good, but kind of heavy... maybe the Persian one? Do you like blue?"
"I like pretty much anything," Samirah says.
"Hot pink?"
"Um, maybe not so much. Pink doesn't go with most of my wardrobe."
And it's as if she just turns on a lightbulb over Blitz's head. "Of course! A hijab that can change colors automatically! Why didn't I think of that? Oh, this is going to be a HUGE breakthrough."
-
On the third day of Blitz's hijab project, Hearth comes back from Asgard. He shows up at Blitz's soon-to-be boutique in Valhalla and signs excitedly about his session with Odin. Blitz drops everything to fully listen to Hearth. Magnus stops by after a while, and he interprets Hearth's signs to Samirah. Hearth learned a lot in the span of a week, it seems, and Samirah can't be happier for him.
They eat falafel and kebab at Fadlan's Falafel after that, and Samirah can't stop blushing whenever he so much as smiles at her, much to Magnus' amusement and her annoyance. She wishes for the World Tree to magically appear so she can properly hide, but all she has is a potted ficus tree. Magnus won't stop laughing.
"You're being really rude, Magnus," Blitz scolds him, although it's kind of hypocritical of him seeing as he's barely containing his laughter. "Stop teasing your sister."
"I'd hate to be related to him," Samirah says spitefully. "Shut the Helheim up, Magnus."
"You are so hopeless with this crush," Magnus says. "I will be laughing the loudest at your wedding."
Samirah flushes harder at the mention of a wedding. "I will not invite you!" she hisses. "Ugh. Wait until you have a crush. I will embarrass you to no end."
Hearth rolls his eyes like, teenagers, as if he's much older than Sam and Magnus. Wait, he probably is, seeing as an elf can live up to a thousand years. But his expression is fond.
"Wait until you're in her position, Magnus," Blitz warns. "You will be just as hopeless."
"Nah, I won't be," Magnus says. "I'm cooler than her."
You wish, Hearth signs.
"Hey, I am!" Magnus protest. "Right, Blitz?"
"Uh, if I had to choose, Valkyrie over einherji any day, baby," Blitz says.
Magnus looks so betrayed, Samirah would laugh at him if Amir isn't there, leaning on the counter, his biceps flexing. The tattoo looks like it shines. Samirah resolutely pays attention only to Magnus’ next words. "I can't believe this, I thought you’re my mom and dad! Parents are not supposed to pick favorites.”
None of us is a mom, Hearth signs at Magnus, frowning. We're both dads.
"Fine, dads," Magnus says, and then he looks on, confused. "Wait, does that mean I have three dads?"
Blitz shrugs, like the implication that he and Hearth are married goes right through him. He waves his hand in a dismissive way. "Eh, you turned fine." After a beat, he adds, "Well, you turned out dead, but still fine."
Magnus makes a "good enough" gesture and digs into another helping of falafel. If Amir keeps feeding him for free, Samirah is sure the business is going down soon.
Slow down, you're going to choke, Hearth signs, looking genuinely concerned.
"Yes, Mom," Magnus says. Samirah isn't sure if he's being sarcastic. She notices the corner of Hearth's mouth twitching, like he's not certain if he should smile or frown. She notices that he does that a lot, actually, whenever Magnus jokingly refers to him as "Mom" or Blitz as "Dad." She notices that both of them don't seem to mind.
"Just finish your food," Blitz says, "because I need to tell you about my new anti-gravity paint-shooting ruby tie."
-
"It doesn't bother you?"
Samirah blinks at Magnus' questioning face. They're lounging in Blitz's workshop in Valhalla, watching the dwarf and Hearth bent over a piece of glowing metal, a material Blitz is attempting to craft into a body armor. They fit magically as a team; Blitz understands Hearth wholly even without him having to sign it, and anyone can see Hearth trusts Blitz entirely. It's heart-warming to see.
"What doesn't bother me?" she asks.
"You know..." Magnus makes a vague gesture.
"I don't," Samirah says, beginning to grow irritated. She hates when people skirt around her like they're afraid to offend her.
"Blitz and Hearth," Magnus whispers.
Samirah stares at him in disbelief. "Are you insinuating that I'm homophobic?"
"No! Never! You're one of the most open-minded person I know," Magnus panics. "Don't be mad. I just thought, you know, religious people usually don't like, you know..."
"Gay people?" Samirah raises one eyebrow.
"No! I mean, yes," Magnus looks askance, regretting bringing this up.
Samirah can understand where he's coming from. When the only representation of muslims on the media are gun-wielding terrorists, your mind can’t be narrower. She can't help but feel a little hurt, though. After everything they've been through, she thought Magnus would have known better. "No, it doesn't bother me," Sam finally says.
Apparently, Magnus wants to know more. "Did it take a long time for you to unlearn all of that?"
"All of what," Samirah says.
"You can't tell me nobody told you, Beware of the gays!" Magnus impersonates in a shrilly voice. "No religion is accepting of them. Isn't it like, sin to support them?"
Samirah takes a deep breath. She is in no mood to debate morals, but she knows if she says nothing, Magnus will press. "Lakum diinukum waliyadiin," she quotes. Magnus stares at her blankly. "It translates to, You shall have your belief and I shall have mine. I believe that my God makes no mistakes. What Blitz and Hearth have? That's no mistake." She glances at Magnus, finding him listening aptly. He asks a lot of obnoxious questions, but at least he listens. That's a nice change.
She continues carefully, "And as for sins... nobody, nobody has the authority to judge whether one thing is good or evil but Allah. Only He knows what accounts as sin. Only He can decide who ends up in heaven or hell. So. I believe."
Magnus nods. He opens his mouth, but he closes it again. He finally settles for, "That makes a lot of sense."
"Everything about it does," Sam says. "But everyone is so dead-set on proving that I'm anything but good. They never bother to ask, and even if they did, they don't listen."
Magnus seems apologetic, but he doesn't say he's sorry. Good. Samirah doesn't think she can handle pity.
"Hey, can I call you Samirah?" Magnus says after a minute.
"Uh, that's literally my name," she's bewildered now.
"Yeah, and it's a really cool name. Not very Viking-ish, but still pretty cool. Sam is cool, too, but if I can make the effort to say Ginunggap—"
"Ginnungagap," Samirah offers helpfully.
"--or that, correctly, I can make the effort to call you Samirah," Magnus says. "Am I pronouncing it right?"
Samirah laughs, so loud that Blitz and Hearth turn to look at her. "Oh, yes," she says. "You can call me Samirah."
-
It takes two weeks and three days for Blitz to be satisfied with the hijab he's developing for Samirah. He has a sun-bright smile on his face when he presents the final product to Samirah, his happiness so contagious it makes her feel warm inside out.
"What's its name?" Samirah asks, thumbing the soft, silky ends. It's currently a fierce shade of silver, matching her breastplate and shield, but it glimmers in a thousand colors when she holds it up, like magic. Knowing Blitz, it definitely is magic. Hearth has been helping him, after all.
"Hearth named it Rainbow, 'cause it changes colors, but we decide that the best person to give it a name is you," Blitz grins.
Samirah thinks about a night years ago, where she stood on a rooftop somewhere in Boston and watching the first light appear in the horizon, the sun coloring the sky with what looks to her like hope and promise. Warmth, a feeling of contentment that she feels whenever she's around her family, the other three empty cups. "I'll call it Fajar," Samirah decides. "Like the dawn."
Other than changing colors, Fajar is also able to expand, adapt to extreme temperature changes, provide invisibility for more than two people, and is self-cleaning. It also functions like a metal helmet during battle, so as long as she wears it over her head, she will be saved from damages like concussion or head wounds. Blitz manages simple, practical, and beautiful.
Samirah is not even remotely surprised.
-
"Great work on the magic," Samirah tells Hearth the next time they meet up at Fadlan’s Falafel. She no longer longs for a potted ficus plant, but she still can't stop the blush from spreading every time Amir greets her.
How do you know it's me? Hearth signs.
"Who else would it be? Blitz's favorite magic go-to-guy is you," Samirah says. "The self-cleaning feature is very useful."
Hearth looks pleased. I knew you'd love it.
In the corner of her eyes, she can see Magnus and Blitz conversing. Hearth waves at them. Blitz waves back, without pausing the conversation, grinning. Samirah also notices that he is always grinning around Hearth, except when the elf is injured. As they near Sam and Hearth's table, Hearth pulls out the chair beside him, and Blitz sinks comfortably to it, not missing a beat.
Samirah smiles inwardly. Love, she thinks, is not at all big gestures like in the movies. Oh, the movies are very, very wrong. Love is in the little things, like second nature.
She doesn't know how, but existing alongside each other, for Hearthstone and Blitzen, seem like more than just second nature. It's a part of their life.
Seriously. It's beyond her how Magnus could ever think she would hate something like it.
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