#deiadra starke

[cathcacen]

Anarei, healer             |     Ora, huntress Laori, scout                 |     Ithaera, restaurateur Deiadra, apothecary   |     Ailey, midwife

My bby girls + unglam fantasy-realm jobs

Make your own (x)

[cathcacen]

A twist on the one line prompt - for each prompt, assign an RP pairing. Can be canon or AU, from any generation, romantic or platonic (friendship or familial). : Dc

IF I COULD I WOULD JUST ANSWER ALL LEAREI AND ANGST NONSTOP HAHAHAHAHHAHA

But I will be good and do it properly. And because I am a sucker for headcanons, I will also add short descripts of when the sentences might be appropriate. XD

1. “Come over here and make me” - Dillon and Heulan NOTP, Raindrop Pendants; Dillon has Ora in a deathgrip, and Heulan will break bones to get his forever girl back.

2. “I trusted you!” - Ailey Fischer and Jamie Hayes OTP, Modern AU; Hayes gets drunk and cheats. Fischer forgives, eventually.

3. “Let’s go, right now, just You, and I” - Mae and Lars OTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Mae wants to visit the Eastern Jungles so he can discuss philosophy with the Priests of Rathma, and doesn’t want to leave his Girl Friday Lars behind.

4. “How can I hate someone so much, yet love them even more?” - Serrah and Samille BROTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Introducing two sisters, the misdeeds of the elder, and the effect it has on the younger.

5. “Please, just don’t leave me” - Lear and Rei OTP, Modern AU; Lear has to go back to work, and Rei wants him to stay. Obviously internalised begging here. Also drabble.

6. “I let her/him in, I don’t let people in” - LEAR AND REI OTP, MODERN AU; Lear has to go to work, and Rei wants him to stay. Lear realises all too late he’s allowed Rei to move into a tiny space in his heart, baggage and all.

7. “I almost lost you” - Heulan and Ora OTP, Raindrop Pendants; Ora falls into an ice lake. Despite protests, Heulan jumps in after her and gets her out. Also applicable to That Time Heulan Drained His Lifeforce Healing Ora While Fighting The Lord of Bloody Effing Sin.

8. “I’d wait forever, as long as I could be with you in the end” - Lear and Rei OTP, Modern AU; Lear has to go to work, but this time he promises Rei he’ll come home. Corresponding drabble.

9. “Do not make me break my word” - Leah and Lear NOTP, Raindrop Pendants; in which Lear continues to strain against Leah’s tight leash, and she threatens to oust him and his past misdeeds.

10. “Have you seen this?” - Theron and Renia OTP, Raindrop Pendants; Theron finds ‘adoptive flower child’ Heulan’s name among a list of dead post-war, and has to break the news to his wife.

11. “I always promised that I wouldn’t, but right now I can’t help myself.” - Niall and Serrah familyTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; where Niall realises he can’t help but dad Serrah around. It gets harder to see her as an apprentice when the world gets darker and more dangerous, and all he wants to do is keep her safe.

12. “I’m only going to ask you once more” - Roethlis and Rei NOTP, Modern AU; Roethlis wants to know why Rei let his brother die. Trigger warning drabble.

13. “Just, do one last thing. Kiss me” - Niall and Lars BROTP/NOTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Niall wants to die with a kiss, but asks a friend’s wife to do the honours.

14. “Hey, I’m with you okay? Always” - Estarra and Tychol familyTP, Raindrop Pendants; Star kees her baby grandson safe from the visions that scare him, and teaches him how to make sense of those that have yet come to pass.

15. “We need to talk” - Cleunn and Lear familyTP, Raindrop Pendants; in which Cleunn tells his son in law off for neglecting himself.

16. “Are you jealous” - Lear, Haekel, and Marclai BROTP, Modern AU; where Lear tricks Marclai into doing some work for him, and taunts Haekel about his bff’s excellent help after.

17. “You did this, all for me?” - Haekel and Marclai BROTP, Modern AU; Haekel saved Marclai’s life okay and they will forever be BROTP full of love and fluffy fuzzy feels sobs.

18. “You need me just as much as I need you” - Mel and Mia BROTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Mel initially begrudges Mia her magic, but eventually comes to realise that nothing is worth losing the love of her twin and other half.

19. “Promise me” - Chryse and Mae familyTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Chryse has lost a daughter, and she needs her son to understand that he cannot come home in a box.

20. “I thought you loved me” - Lear and Rei OTP, Modern AU; Lear doesn’t come for Rei when she’s locked away, and it’s all she can do to keep it together as she whispers the words into the night.

21. “You don’t have any right to say that” - Theone and Mae BROTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Mae wants everyone to go home following the death of his baby sister, and Theone’s having none of that shit.

22. “No matter where you are, or who you’re with, I will always truly, completely, love you” - Mae and Lars OTP, Modern AU; where lovers separated by circumstances beyond their control will still love one another forever.

23. “Two can play at this game” - Theone and Mae BROTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; These two are competitive as shit.

24. “You’re the only one I trust to do this” - Lear and Lars FamilyTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Lear trains a younger Lars how to scout, Ilvait-Sagen ‘I’m just a scout’ style. Lars graduates with flying colours.

25. “You think you’re the only one that’s suffering here?” - Lear and Silene NOTP, Raindrop Pendants; There’s a lot of yelling, and Strahan has to come break it up.

26. “Just do it!” - Theone and Lars BROTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Theone doesn’t understand why Lars doesn’t just tell Mae she’s in love with him. Theone also doesn’t understand why Mae hasn’t done the same.

27. “I’m pregnant” - Rauen and Ora/Heulan and Ora NOTP/OTP, Raindrop Pendants; After a night of pain, pleasure, and abuse with Rauen, Ora finds out she’s pregnant. Rauen’s out of the picture; best friend Heulan is furious and disappointed, but wants to dad the baby anyway.

28. “Marry me?” - Mae and Lars OTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; in dire times, when Mae is busy sending everyone home, one person doggedly refuses to leave his side, where she’s been since the very beginning. He realises the only way to remember it himself is to take a leap of faith.

29. “I thought you were dead” - Renia and Ora familyTP, Raindrop Pendants; Renia welcomes Ora back into her home following Heulan’s untimely death and mothers her with all the determination of Molly Weasley.

30. “There was nothing between us. Just a weird friendship” - Lorcan and Ora BROTP/NOTP, Raindrop Pendants; In which everybody is surprised that Lorcan and Ora never banged or even made out despite having shared beds/cuddles, and have most likely seen each other naked.

31. “Nothing has ever scared me more than being with you” - Strahan and Silene OTP, Modern AU; Strahan doesn’t scare easy, but he finds himself terrified when Silene signs a DNR.

32. “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified” - Strahan and Silene OTP, Raindrop Pendants; At least, that’s what he would’ve said or felt if they had the time to actually fall in love.

33. “I’m never going to leave you” - Heulan and Ora/Ora and Ceth OTP/FamilyTP, Raindrop Pendants; In which Heulan tells Ora he’ll always be with her, if not in person, then in spirit. Nine years later, Ora tells the same thing to her baby boy.

34. “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to bed” - Lear and Rei OTP, Modern AU; Lear likes looking at his wife, and she loves when he touches, too.

35. “I can’t enjoy this bagel while you’re crying, so you better tell me what the matter is.” - Heulan and Ora OTP, Modern AU; Ora is pregnant and doesn’t know why she’s crying into her morning cereal, and Heulan thinks it’s because she’s still thinking about the bittersweet movie ending from last night.

36. “The sun could burn out, and the whole world could die, but I’d still be utterly in love with you” - Lear and Theone familyTP, Raindrop Pendants; Lear’s love for his baby girl knows no bounds.

37. “Just say it, once more” - Jamie Hayes and Rei BROTP, Modern AU; About the time Rei off-handedly mentions to Fischer that Hayes does the best grafting work of all their colleagues and he never lets her forget it.

38. “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go  to such extremes…” - Lear and Ora CrackTP/BROTP, Raindrop Pendants; Ora can’t stand the sight of demon skin, but Lear seems to find joy in throwing it at her.

39. “Hey! I was gonna eat that!” - Ora and Ceth FamilyTP, Raindrop Pendants; Ora steals Ceth’s cookie from his plate, and he gets upset. The next day, she buys her baby boy a whole jar of cookies as a peace offering and he shares half with her anyway.

40. “No one has ever made me feel more special than you have” - Lear and Rei OTP, Modern AU; Lear has a habit of being extra, planning exotic dates and weekend getaways when he isn’t working. It hurts all the more because Rei is fully aware she has no monopoly on his time and heart. Corresponding drabble.

41. “Stop complaining, you know you love it” - Rauen and Rei NOTP, Modern AU; in which Rauen likes telling Rei she loves it when he pretends to be the elusive Sagen.

42. “I’m fed up of your stupid games” - Karalir and Rei NOTP, Raindrop Pendants; Rei wants Karalir to know there’ll be hell to pay if he continues to hound her family. Karalir wins the fight, but eventually loses the war.

43. “You don’t have to change for me” - Mae and Lars OTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Weeks into an unconsummated marriage, a nervous and self-conscious Lars asks her new husband if he’s actually attracted to her physique.

44. “Will you just accept that I am hopelessly in love with you, and there’s nothing you can do that will change that” - Cel and Ceth OTP, Modern AU; Ceth is concerned for Cel’s sake, given his job in the military, but she refuses to back off and will love him to death - which comes too soon.

45. “I’ll get you back for that” - Yleris and Lear BROTP/NOTP, Raindrop Pendants; Yleris isn’t over his wife’s passing and takes it out on her work partner.

46. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this” - Taranis and Deiadra OTP, Raindrop Pendants; On adopting four kids all at once.

47. “There’s something I need to tell you” - Ceth and Lars BROTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; in which Ceth has to tell Lars for the third time in her life that her baby did not survive the womb.

48. “You think I need you? Because I don’t” - Lorath and Theone OTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; in which Lorath tells Theone he doesn’t need her help, nor the strings her family’s wealth and resources come with. He eventually realises she doesn’t want him to owe her; she just wants a chance to show him who she really is, and if who she really is, is someone he might come to love.

49. “I could never get sick of you.“ - Shan and Chryse BROTP/OTP, Raindrop Pendants; Shan knows he has to say goodbye, but hot damn he’s so into Chryse and her general badassery.

50. “If you really love me, you’ll let me go” - Strahan and Rei FamilyTP, Raindrop Pendants; Strahan is hurting and he needs his baby sister to bring an end to the pain.

51. “Oh my god what happened?” Everybody and Mae BROTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; in which the entire Westmarch and Sanctuary cumulatively turn to Mae to yell at him for venturing into some dark corner and getting hurt. “I found your cat, Lars!” He says.

52. “Who did this to you?” - Mae and Celandine FamilyTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Mae can take a lot of insults when they’re hurled at him, but when you hurt his baby sister, you die.

53. “Why is it always you?” - Mae and Lars OTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Lars wonders why Mae keeps popping up where she is, especially when he’s proven to be disinterested in any form of romance with her.

54. “You always say that, and you’re always wrong” - Chryse and Lochi OTP, Raindrop Pendants; Lochi doesn’t believe he can do better, and yet somehow always does when Chryse pushes him to the limit.

55. “I did not expect this” - Lear + Haekel and Marclai, Raindrop Pendants; In which Haekel and Marclai help Lear to get away from a life-threatening situation and succeed in keeping him alive.

56. “I told you this would happen” - Lear and Rei OTP, Raindrop Pendants; in which Rei tells Lear she’d known all along Heulan would yell at him for throwing demon skin at Ora and making her cry.

57. “It’s not my fault!” - Roethlis and Rei NOTP, Raindrop Pendants; Roethlis wants his cousin to know that what happened to her sister was a mistake.

58. “I didn’t do it!” - Taranis and Lars familyTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Taranis wants to know why three of his trainees can’t look him in the eye. He has a sneaking suspicion it has to do with why his daughter is nursing a swollen fist.

59. “Why are you looking at me like that?” - Ethan and Lear BROTP, Modern AU; Ethan doesn’t understand Lear’s obsession with chicken. Corresponding drabble.

60. “Give it back!” - Naled and Ceth FamilyTP, Raindrop Pendants; Ora brings baby Ceth to see his father’s father figure, and Ceth runs away with Naled’s string of beads. It’s all very cute, and when Ora leaves, she thinks she sees Naled wiping some tears away.

61. “I made a mistake. A huge mistake.” - Sehrai and Strahan NOTP, Modern AU; in which Sehrai realises all too late she wants her baby after all, but Strahan has had enough of her shit. Corresponding drabble.

62. “Just shut up and kiss me” - Lear with Kaunis, Eala, and Ensis NOTP, Raindrop Pendants; in which Lear has accrued a group of fangirls who want that sweet sweet lovin’. Rei is not impressed, and makes him kiss her if/when they run into these girls.

63. “That’s it, I can’t do this anymore” - Cel and Lars BROTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Cel comforts Lars when she doesn’t know what to do with the Mae situation, and can’t believe her ears when the girl bolts upright on the kitchen table and declares that she’s running away to Westmarch.

64. “I hate you so much” - Taranis and Mae familyTP, Raindrop Pendants: Westmarch Edition; Taranis eventually passes his hammer to Mae. It’s probably a love-hate relationship. The shackles that bind the General to Virkove aren’t exactly a gift.

65. “Because I love you god damn it!” - Chryse and Lochi OTP, Raindrop Pendants; Lochi has no idea why Chryse won’t just let him go home to a life of mundane drudgery.

66. “We shouldn’t be doing this” - Lear and Deiadra BROTP, Raindrop Pendants; Lear engages Deiadra to help him develop flammables to make things to boom. It doesn’t end well.

67. “What could go wrong?” - Taranis + Lear and Ora BROTP, Raindrop Pendants; Taranis makes Lear and Ora work together. Things explode. Cue Lear’s shit-eating grin: “Famous last words, Captain.”

68. “Wow, you’ve…changed.” - Haekel and Ora CrackTP, Raindrop Pendants; Ora runs into Haekel in Kurast some years after their initial flirtations, and he doesn’t recognise her at all. “How rude,” She says.

69. “We’re getting too old for this” - Taranis and Lear BROTP, Raindrop Pendants; Presumably after Lear pulls some shit that causes Taranis to chase him with murderous intent.

70. “i never stopped loving you, i just stopped showing it “ - Mae and Lars OTP, Modern AU; Lars will always love Mae, even if it breaks her heart to let him go. She can’t hold him back and doesn’t want to, after all. Corresponding drabble.

PHEW FINALLY DONE. This was fun! Also open for actual drabbling, if anyone is interested for these ships: Jonsa, Olicity, Zutara, Romanogers, Rumbelle, Philinda, Joanlock, Fitzsimmons, Outlaw Queen, Soueri, Takumegu, Bughead. Feel free to ask!

[cathcacen]

It started out with a kid, how did it end up like this.

Make your own.

[cathcacen]

Bone, Bread, and Brew

I’ve done so much work today and I deserve to drabble, damnit.

Also I’m aware this title could be anything from steamboat stock to ale-brewing, but really, it’s just about Deiadra and Rei discussing potions and the means mere mortals resort to in order to get nephalem-type results. Sort of.

With a bit of ‘hospital time’ Learei thrown into the mix.

Also hurrah for these people testing potions on themselves XD

She’s tried over the past weeks to wash the blood from her blouse, but the stain continues to mock her, doggedly refusing to be cleaned away. It’s faded, but it’s there, a steady reminder that change has come and is here to stay.

By the time she gives up on the garment entirely, she’s sick to death of holding her grudges to her chest. It’s exhausting to keep up appearances, and even she has to admit the squabbling has gotten old and petty. After their inevitable and wholly unexpected reunion, she and Lear had taken to snapping at one another – she’s furious at his dismissive behaviour and lack of attention to his own wellbeing, and he’s equally frustrated at her inability to understand.

They’ve both done and said hurtful things. It hadn’t ended well; he’d ended up getting so worked up he’d thrown up all over her, blood and bile and bits of food.

Despite protests, Da had sentenced her to care for him after. You undo my hard work, you get to nurse him back to health.

It’s hell, but she does it and they get through the days mostly unscathed, discounting dignity.

The next time she goes to the Keep, she brings along a basket of clothes – a couple of new shirts, woven of warmer stuff than the standard issue of the Keep, pants, and a thick woollen blanket to replace his worn, slightly threadbare one. Deiadra raises a brow at the basket of goods, but doesn’t ask anything else. They settle in for their weekly lesson.

The potion in question is a pale-yellow, metallic brew.

“It’s supposed to help for re-forging bones,” Deiadra says, measuring out the ingredients on a set of silver scales. An old, scruffy cat sits on her lap, half asleep, purring. “I started working on this one after I saw your brother’s work with bones. Not everyone is nephalem, however, so this is the best we mere mortals can do.”

She bites back a smile. You know that feeling all too well, don’t you? Straining against your own limitations, fighting to do more, be more. “Supposed to?”

Deiadra nods. The Apothecary is the same age as Taranis, but they’re so different somehow that Anarei wonders how one could’ve ever fallen for the other. “It needs some refining. This one currently reforms the missing bone by sapping the strength from those surrounding it.”

“It can still be applied in medicine.” She leans over to study the bubbling mixture. “Bones get stronger with consumption of certain foods, and we could develop another mixture to speed up the process. The patient would need time to heal, of course.”

“Precisely. We’ve been using this one for a while now.” The Apothecary shakes some silvery flowers from a bottle into her mortar, puts the pestle in, and hands it over. “I’m trying to create one that reforges the bone without weakening the others, but the method I’m considering is a little macabre.”

She recalls some of her older books – blood magic, which had called for the brewing of basic healing potions using human blood. The practice had died out a decade or so ago. “Having trouble digging up human ashes?” The silvery flowers grind easily to a dust. They’re pretty.

Deiadra grins. “Something like that. An alternative would be to use animal ashes, of course. And then there’s the whole issue of compatibility to consider. I’ve done some basic research on this, of course, but feel free to share your thoughts.”

“I’ll get my brother to help. We can figure out the key differences in Northern animal bones first, and see if we arrive at anything.” She watches as Deiadra scoops up some of the silver-flower dust, folding it into the bubbling mix. “How long did it take you to develop this?”

“Two years.”

When they’re finished with the potion, Anarei hands over the results of her previous week’s work – a small vial filled with a pale greyish-blue, slightly thick liquid. The Apothecary dips a needle in the vial, then touches the tip to her left pinky. When she looks up, she’s smiling, evidently pleased.

“You tried it on yourself, didn’t you?”

“Couldn’t move my arm for an hour after.”

Deiadra nods firmly. “Good. I want you to make a few adjustments – use your own discretion, and see if you can’t make one that’s more potent. Let me know how it goes next week, and I also want you to try this one.”

The Apothecary’s building isn’t too far from the infirmary, and she’s in a fairly good mood as she makes her way over to check up on her patient. Part of her is wary – she doesn’t want to spoil her day with unnecessary arguing. Still, she has a job to do, so she grits her teeth and forces herself to get it over with.

He’s sleeping. Heaving a faint sigh of relief, she nudges open the door and makes her way into his room. After his initial episode, she’d set up a cart with all the necessary potions for dealing with emergencies beside his bed. She checks the vials, refills the ones she’d remembered to bring, then glances over at the patient. He’s frowning in his sleep, a mess of slightly dirty hair, bandages, and potion.

She almost wishes he’d get up to yell at her – he doesn’t look nearly as helpless then.

Well, nothing for it now.

She toes around the room, setting the new garments down on a stool close by him. The blanket goes on the foot of his bed, and she watches his face cautiously as she lays the soft sheet over his knees. He doesn’t wake, and she lets out a breath, relieved. From the bottom of her basket, she pulls out a small bag of buns – thick, hearty things made with cumin seeds and dark grain.

It’s not much of a peace offering, but the man has to eat.

She sets down the bag, making sure it’s within reach. Then, she bends and picks up her basket. There’s work to be done at home.

[cathcacen]

Dr. Starke takes a new patient, but is tough and pretty cool XD

How inconsiderate.

She glances at her watch, then sighs and crosses out the name from her carefully-constructed schedule. It’s her practice to refuse patients who are late – it’s bad enough they’re wasting her time, but they’re also wasting the time of others who might have better use of her services.

It’s unacceptable.

Her window faces the back driveway of the hospital, so she’s able to see the ambulances as they roll in. From her seventh floor office, she can’t see much detail, but the chaos is always evident in the way the paramedics move. Doctors run to receive the gurneys, and sometimes, there is a sobbing friend or family member, the blood and gore on their clothes stark against the ground as they disembark.

Sometimes, hours later, they show up in her office. She hates those meetings most.

The knock on her door pulls her from the window. She’s just getting ready to tell the patient off when she realises it’s not the young man on her schedule at all.

Still, it’s not a face she’s glad to see.

“You need an appointment,” She purses her lips. She’s so damn tall. “I’m all booked up until next Thursday.”

“You’re not seeing anyone right now,” Anarei Naveau says, her voice tight. “Please, Doctor Starke. My brother told me to come to you.”

“As a matter of fact, I have an appointment and I’m just waiting on him.”

“No, you don’t. I asked Rhodri for his spot hours ago. He must have forgotten to let you know.” She takes a step forward, clearly desperate. “Call him, you’ll see.”

“Doctor Naveau, this is highly irregular. I haven’t prepared with your notes, so I’m not sure how much assistance I can be to you right now.” She grits her teeth. “And besides, you’ve cancelled at least three appointments over the past month. I could’ve reported you to the hospital board. You know a full assessment following your incident was part of your employment deal.”

“So I’m here for it now.” Naveau’s fists are clenched, and there’s a slight tremor that runs along the length of her arms. “Please.”

She lets out a sigh. “I’ll only see you on one condition. You have to come back until I’m sure you can do your job.” She blocks the doorway intentionally. “Say it, Naveau. Don’t make me rip you a new one.” Not to mention the new one Ethan would rip her if he knew she’s been blowing me off.

Naveau nods, and she steps aside graciously to let her in. “I screwed up.”

“You didn’t screw up - you’re screwed up.” She gestures towards the couch and pours two cups of tea. “Did you kill a patient?”

Naveau fidgets. They’d only met once before, in a conference some years back when things had been easier and the world had been kinder. Then, the youngest Doctor Naveau had been bright-eyed, ready to take on the world, eager to compete alongside her already-established brothers.

She’s not the same person.

“So.” She hands the girl a cup of tea. “What triggered you?”

Naveau’s hands shake, causing the cup of tea to rattle as she holds on to the saucer with both hands. She opens her mouth, then shuts it again, clearly finding it difficult to gather her thoughts and words.

“We don’t have all day,” She supplies. And they don’t. Her next appointment is scheduled to arrive in fifty minutes.

“Aren’t psychiatrists supposed to be nice? Patient?” Naveau tries to mask her obvious unease with incredulity.

She can see right through it.

“My job isn’t to be nice to you.” She sips her tea. “It’s to make sure you’re of sound mental health to do your job as a trauma surgeon. The hospital’s not going to keep around a traumatised trauma surgeon. And since you’ve been avoiding me, I’ve had to dodge the chief of surgery for three weeks. So you tell me now; why shouldn’t I just march to his office and tell him you can’t do this? Tell me why you’re still viable as a doctor. Tell me why you shouldn’t just wrap up your practice and go do something else.”

“I don’t know,” Naveau snarls. “Look, I don’t know why I’m still trying. I just know I’m not ready to quit, but everything terrifies me. I walk into the OR and my hands shake because I’m afraid the patient will die no matter how hard I try. I can’t cut. I had to insert an arterial line the other day. It was hell.”

She’d heard about that. Naveau had done flawless work, but after, she’d disappeared into the locker room, and hadn’t emerged until much later. “Tell me about what happened today.” She tries for patience. Her voice comes out a bit clipped. It’ll have to do.

Naveau grips her cup tighter, eyes fixed on her lap. Her jaw is tense. “GSW to the chest, clean exit wound. Punctured the lung. Hemopneumothorax. The other attending’s on leave. I had to open him up. Removed the left upper lobe of the lung.” The words tumble out, as if rehearsed.

“So he didn’t even die, and you’re having a panic attack?”

Naveau glares at her. “I think it’s more that I had a sustained panic attack while making sure he didn’t die.”

“Was it the GSW?” She leans forward, setting down her own cup. “Full disclosure – I’ve read your report. I know about your first patient, back in that base.”

“God damnit, has everybody in this hospital read it?!”

“Just me, now put down the cup. I don’t want you smashing it.”

To her credit, Naveau does as she’s told. “I need this to stop.”

She chuckles dryly. “Doctor Naveau, you’re a trauma surgeon. You know about PTSD management.” She straightens in her seat. “Tell me about what happened, back there.”

“There were at least thirty others.” Naveau clasps her hands over her knees. Her knuckles turn pale. “At the base, where we were held. Some of them were from my unit. I’m not sure where the others were from.” She looks up briefly. “Apparently only fourteen of us made it out.”

Survivor’s guilt. Add that to the cocktail of things wrong with this one’s head. She nods, reaching for her notebook. “It’s not unheard of for prisoners of war to die in captivity. Especially in those conditions.”

“A few days after they took us.” Naveau grips the fabric of her scrubs, scrunching them up over her lap. “Presumably after they’d figured out who we were. They brought me to one of the caverns. It’s just an endless rathole of networked tunnels. Usually dark. Damp. Mouldy. No fit place to do open-heart surgery. Sergeant said they could use my help. I asked what would happen if I refused to comply.” She swallows, her voice and face going numb. “He had his soldiers bring one of the others. Shot him right in the chest. I couldn’t save him. They stripped me and put me in the standard issue. Said I wouldn’t be needing my uniform again, since it was covered in blood. Said welcome to the rest of your life.”

“Doesn’t sound like you could’ve stopped it.” She wonders if Naveau’s told all this to her brothers, but something tells her it’s the first anyone’s hearing of it.

“I can’t remember how many men and women I killed in that room.” Naveau looks up again. “Most of them died. They made me call time of death.” Her voice quavers. “Statistically speaking, my survival rate is shot.”

“I looked through their charts too, you know. Your patients in that hellhole.” She thinks back to the thick pile Captain Cethlion had handed her, the dreaded report at the top. “Your brother had another one of my patients deliver them when he sent over your report. Maybe your mind was addled from being so far removed and all, but most of them were beyond saving by the time you got to them.”

Naveau’s eyes glass over. She slumps forward, lowering her head onto her hands. “Still. It’s a testament to my skill, isn’t it? Another surgeon might have done better.”

“You were in terrible conditions, with barely enough tools to perform an appendectomy, let alone brain surgery. You were frightened, hurt, and emotionally compromised. Are you seriously going to tell me you blame yourself?”

“I shouldn’t.” Naveau grunts.

“Right. But you do. And I can tell you not to until my face turns blue, but the only person who can make that decision is you.”

“What if the rest of my life is killing patients in a dark room?”

She sighs. “You don’t really believe that, and our ORs are brightly lit.”

Naveau doesn’t reply.

“Look. Anarei.” She uses the name deliberately. “I want to help you. And if you’ll let me, if you do what I ask, you can come back from this. I don’t know you that well, but I’ve known your brothers for years. You’re made of the same stuff Ethan is, and you’ve got Strahan’s annoying stubbornness. I’m not going to pretend this is something you can gloss over. You can’t. It’s a shit world, and you got dealt a shit hand. You can still try your damned hardest to win the game.”

“I just want to not lose miserably.”

“We can do that too,” She says.

The minutes pass in silence. She pulls up the necessary charts. Naveau drinks her tea. She’s sure it’s tepid by now, but refills the cup anyway.

“Tell the Chief to bench me.” She says, after what seems forever. “I’m clearly not ready. I’ll watch from the sidelines for now. And in the meantime, we can fix this. Fix me.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Naveau nods. “It is.”

She smiles. “The fact that you’re rational enough to make this decision actually gives me hope, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does.”

She hands over the stack of previously-retrieved charts. There are thirty seven in total. She recalls nine survivors. “I want you to read these. The trainees there filled them in, but the information is accurate. See if you can do better than what you did then. Factor in the circumstances and conditions. And tell me about it, next week.”

Naveau gets to her feet. “Thursday?”

Ha, she was listening after all. She flips to the schedule page of her book. “Thursday, 2PM. Don’t be late.”

[cathcacen]

Taranis has a lot of time to think before and after heading to Lut Gholein to find his recently-departed buddy’s waifu.

           They’re set to start their journey down south to Lut Gholein at dawn, and he’s settled his affairs in Virkove, so he elects to spend the night at the room Haile is good enough to keep vacant for him at the keep. It’s been months after the end of the war, but the men are still rebuilding, and even this late at night, the great halls and passageways are lit, men passing through from time to time. He stops at the stairs that lead up to Deiadra’s quarters, and from where he stands, he can see her sitting by the window.

           He glances about the courtyard. The stragglers are smoking to a corner, and none pay him any heed; he’s not in his armour, after all, and they’re soldiers off duty in a time of peace. She’s looking down at him when he finally shifts his gaze again, and for a moment, he wonders what it is about her that has him so entranced. There’s a wry smile upon her face, her posture imperiously noble, and he can’t help but feel himself come undone just a little bit.

They haven’t spoken since the night they’d returned from the High Heavens.

The night Heulan had died.

           She dips her head at him, and he returns the gesture. He watches as she goes back to her work, and starts to walk away, back to his room for what will surely be a long and restless night.

Something stops him three steps in.

Go to her, you idiot. If you love someone, you say it.

He’d said that enough times to Heulan.

           He turns on his heels and trudges up the steps to her tower. She looks up as he pushes through her unbolted door, pale violet eyes following his every move up until the point when he settles on the chair opposite hers at the table.

“Hi,” He tells her. He feels like he’s thirteen again, stupid and shy and madly in love, and he’s not sure she feels the same this time, neither.

She nudges her cup of wine forward. “Hi,” She replies.

“I didn’t know if you wanted to see me, after.” He finds himself stammering a bit. He’s not used to it. Gods damn this woman; why does she have this effect on me?

The soft rustling of fabric beneath the table tells him she’s crossed her legs; he blinks hard, fighting back the memory of them wrapped about his waist, her forehead slick with sweat and pressed to his own.

She chuckles, and he breathes easier. “I didn’t want to see you when we were children.” She tells him.

“And now?” He breathes the words out, hardly daring to look up at her.

“Now, I think, we’ve spent enough years playing games.” She pushes the wine further forward. “Now, I think, you are to be my last lover, and I yours.”

He reaches out to take both her hands in his own, and kisses each digit. He fancies he can see her smile as he trembles against her fingertips.

           In the early hours of the morning, as he is dressing, she slips out from under her covers and helps him with his things. “Find ginger,” She tells him, “And then come home to me.”

           The road to Lut Gholein is difficult and hot. He’s never travelled beyond Sharval, so everything is new to him. The sand and the sea and the trees and the wilds – they only serve to remind him of home and what, as well as who he is missing. For their own parts, both Lear and Lochi commiserate over their mutual feelings of homesickness. They yearn for their wives and daughters and sons, and Taranis finds himself missing his lady in her tower at the keep.

           He tries to focus on Ora instead. He thinks of his friend and wonders where life has led her. Lear’s father tells what he is at liberty to tell, and it frustrates him to no end that Ora is so close, and yet so far. He wonders what the silly, often too-young demon hunter has become in the absence of her husband and best friend, and wonders where her path will take her. In the bitingly cold nights of Lut Gholein, he wonders what Heulan would have thought of this, and wishes he were here.

None of this would have happened if we’d managed to save him. If I’d been better. If we’d paid more attention. If we’d just let them be, instead of sending Lavail after them when we’d found out what Adria had done. You might have been happily married with your farm in Sharval, Heulan, making flower jam and making her last years as happy as you possibly could have.

           His skin burns, reddens, and peels, and the food is too spicy. Even the cold relief of the ocean water doesn’t last, and he has to force back tears of frustration as some teenagers recount a story about finding a ginger-haired woman wandering back to the inns some months back, sopping wet, bits of sand sticking to her face and body and hair.

She looked dazed, the young boys tell him. Out of sorts. We saw her there the night before, too, so maybe she fell asleep by the water.

He shares a glance with Lear, whose face has hardened to steel.

Did she fall asleep, or did she want to sleep forever?

           Lear’s father assures them again that Ora is safe, and after two weeks in the scorching sun and heat, they finally agree that it is a lost cause. She’s boarded a ship and she’s somewhere safe. The rest is up to her and whatever gods Heulan prayed to all his life. Lear tricks him into eating one last gut-burning spice, and they saddle up their horses and ride back north.

He makes his way to Deiadra’s tower while the two fathers cross the water to their families. She takes one look at him, and he appreciates that she bites back a laugh at the sight of his peeling skin and the horrendous burn at the tip of his nose. She lays him down and covers him with salve.

He’s looking into her eyes that night when she asks him what he’s thinking. They’re draped together, her arms and legs tangled about his own and her hair flowing behind her across the bed, glinting in the moonlight.

“I’m thinking we should get married,” He tells her.

She smiles a little. “Yeah?”

He thinks of Heulan, and he thinks of Ora. They deserved more time together.

But it’s Deiadra in front of him now, and he doesn’t want to wait any more. “Yeah.”

[cathcacen]

Lars deals with the aftermath of her dad dropping dead.

She’s only just finished off one of the lesser demonic lieutenants when she hears Ioan call her name across the battlefield. Her heartbeat is racing, and there is a ringing in her ear that corresponds to where a huge fist had struck her across the face. She can feel the blood trickling down her forehead into the side of her mouth, salt and steel and smoke.

Her heart is plunged into ice as she sees her brother’s face.

She’s twisted an ankle and there’s blood squelching in her boots, but she races to the medics, her brother’s hand tight about her own. They arrive just in time to see Aunt Rei cover their father’s face with a thin, light sheet.

The dead don’t feel the cold.

Mum is screaming, a terrifying wail she didn’t know could come out of the small, blonde woman, and Iliev is holding tightly onto her in an attempt to make sure she does not harm herself. Ioan has moved to Arlais’ side, and the two glance furtively aside at Mae, whose expression is a combination of stunned, anxious, and grief-stricken.

Daddy is dead.

She wants to reach out to her father, but that isn’t him anymore. Aunt Rei beckons her over, but she can’t bring herself to look at the man. He’s at peace, Aunt Rei says, and she knows the woman is struggling to hold back tears. They were good friends, after all.

Eventually, someone leads her to a chair. They talk at her, and she hears nothing, but nods absently. Stop talking, she thinks. Please, stop talking.

They don’t stop, but she thinks they are only trying to help, so she stops herself from lashing out. She doesn’t think she has the strength to, anyway.

It seems like hours later before she’s allowed to stand, her hands and legs and head wrapped in bandages and stinging from poultice. Daddy used to kiss it better when I was a girl. But he’s not here anymore, she reminds herself. He’s there, on that table, and his soul is with our ancestors.

She slips out of the infirmary and makes her way to the river. The water rushes on, and all around her, the world continues to exist as before. On a normal day, she would be marveling at how pretty it all is, and how the little fish swim in schools where the water is calm and undisturbed. On a normal day, she would be meditating and reading and sketching under the trees. But it is not a normal day, and she’s lost another one.

Cel’s gone. Ceth’s gone. Daddy’s gone.

Her reflection stares up at her from the water, coal-lined eyes smudged and red-rimmed. The apprentices had wiped the blood from her face, but she can see bits of the dried stuff caked in her hairline. Her dress is covered in the stuff, ripped and cut and shredded. It’s not meant for war – the day had not been meant for war. The picnic basket they’d brought out before is only a little ways further up the riverbank. She’d packed dad’s favourite sandwiches. They’re still in there, she thinks. And now they’re going to go bad.

Today wasn’t supposed to end this way.

She brings the basket back home. Mum breaks down again when she sees it, and Laori has to spend the next hour holding back tears even as she holds her mother. Up in the rooms above, Ioan and Arlais are yelling at each other. She catches Mae’s name in the exchange. She loses her temper when they bring their argument downstairs, and they are too stunned to react when she declares her support for their father’s decision – for their new general.

Eventually, mum cries herself to sleep and Iliev carries her to bed. They share a look, and she slips away, unable to stay any longer in the house. It’s filled with memories, and she can’t bear them.

Daddy is dead. The crowds part around her, the murmuring and pitying whispers echoing as she climbs the hill to the Naveau house. I need Cel, she thinks. I need Cel, and I need a place that isn’t home, where daddy should be, but isn’t. I need to get away from Arlais and Ioan.

It isn’t until she’s standing in Cel’s abandoned room, dark, somewhat musky from lack of use, that she realises she’s all alone. She crawls into her best friend’s bed, hoping against hope that some essence of her kindness remains in the pillows. It’s cold, but the silence is welcome.

She hasn’t cried – it feels surreal, somehow. She thinks on the night before, when she had been planning the picnic and making fun of her father for his sudden desire to eat pumpkin scones. Uncle Heulan used to make them, he’d said.

He’s with Uncle Heulan and Aunt Ora now. But he should be here, with me.

The walls came down when Mae comes home. She cries. She allows herself to cry, and he allows her to grieve. They hold onto one another, and she wets his shoulder with her tears. Aunt Chryse asks them to eat, but she has no appetite and he doesn’t leave her.

Her dreams are forged from memory that night. She wakes with a crick in her shoulder, Mae close by. She fixes her side of the bed, careful to not wake him, then slips out and limps down the stairs. Aunt Rei offers her some breakfast, but she shakes her head. The woman looks as if she’s not slept all night.

She goes home to her mother. The woman has lost her husband, and she’ll be damned if she’ll let her lose her sons and daughter, too. She has a family to repair.

[cathcacen]

He Took Her To A Movie

About the time Heulan called Rei with a crying wife in the bedroom, and they realise movies are catalysts for hormonal outbursts.

Or, in Rei’s case, they just remind her of someone she cares about.

It’s far too early in the morning for a social call, so when her phone starts to ring, she snatches it from her bedside table, swipes the surface, and rasps, half-asleep and panicked, “Yeah?”

Heulan sounds both embarrassed and anxious on the other end – she’s never heard him this scared. “Rei, sorry to call you this early.”

“It’s fine.” She sits up and switches on the light, rolling out of bed. “Is everything okay?”

She can’t hear anything in the background, so she assumes the Seracs are at home. Heulan’s voice, however, continues to be cause for concern. “It’s Ora. She, uh… she won’t stop crying.”

“What?”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Heulan sounds like he’s at the end of his tether. “Can you pleased come over? I don’t know what to do.”

“Did you try shoving chocolate at her? That usually helps.” She stifles a yawn, padding out to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine. It’s still dark out, and the machine makes an almighty mechanical groan as its lights flicker on.

“I did, once she’d calmed down a bit, and that started her up again. Please, Rei? I’ve never seen her this upset.” Heulan’s clearly pleading at this point. “I’ll start the coffee so you don’t need to wait for yours to heat up.”

She groans into the phone. “Fine. I’ll be over in ten.”

Heulan grabs her by the wrist and pulls her in three seconds after she rings their doorbell. By the time she’s finished hanging up her coat, he’s shoved a cup of coffee into her hands. “She’s lying on our bedroom floor. I passed out last night while we were watching Inside Out, and I could’ve sworn everything was okay.”

She frowns as she gulps down her coffee. There was no doubt that the movie in question was a tear-jerker, but it was out of character, even for Ora, to be this affected. “Is she still crying?”

Heulan nudges her towards the stairs, his expression crestfallen and slightly confused. “She was sniffling when I came down to get you. Just talk to her. She’ll listen to you.”

“Usually she listens to you.” She lets out a long sigh, then gives Heulan a brief, comforting squeeze on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Do what you have to. I know you’ve got stuff to prep for work.”

“Thanks, Rei.” Heulan rubs at the back of his head, then trudges off to the kitchen.

He looks so damn defeated. It’s so damn cute.

Ora is bundled up on the rug beside the bed. Heulan has evidently seen to it that she’s comfortable; she’s surrounded by pillows and throws, with almost every available quilt and blanket wrapped about her tiny frame. She’s laying on her side in the foetal position, nose red and eyes still brimming with tears.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” The redhead practically wails. “Heulan called you?”

“You’ve got the world’s best husband.” She studies the redhead for a moment, then takes a step forward, testing the waters. “Can I come closer?”

Ora hiccups, then buries her face into the fluffy, furry pillow Heulan’s shoved directly under her head. “I-I’m not going to shout at you.”

“It’s not the shouting I’m worried about.”

The floorboards creak when she settles down beside the tiny, curled up creature – a little person of tears and panic. She’s seen her share of panic attacks throughout her years in medicine, just as she’s had her own share of them.

In those moments, she wants Sagen. Failing that, she wants her big brother – it doesn’t matter which one.

It occurs to her that something must be different if Ora’s not feeling any better in the presence of her favourite person – the love of her life.

“I don’t know what’s got into me.” Ora starts to sniffle, the tears flowing freely down her widened eyes. “I can’t stop crying - I just keep thinking of that little girl and then I just get so damn sad.”

“Ora, that was a cartoon. And it ended happily.” She lets out a grunt, then lays down on the carpet, leaving some room between the redhead and herself. “Are you stressed?”

“No!” The redhead wails again, her voice shrill. In the kitchen below, the sound of banging pots cease for a moment - she’s no doubt worrying her husband half to death. “Everything’s fine and I couldn’t be happier. B-but I don’t know why I just f-feel so sad.”

She rolls over onto her side, facing her friend. Ora’s got her face scrunched up, hands clutching a sheet right up to her jawline. It would be a really cute imagery if she weren’t sure the woman were on the verge of breaking yet again. “It’s okay,” She reaches out tentatively, and is grateful when Ora doesn’t resist. “Hey, we’re here for you, whatever it is. Just breathe with me right now and we’ll lay here until you’re ready to get up.”

Ora appears to be struggling against crying again - but she’s never been good with resolve. The sobs permeate the air as her face crumples again, and she buries herself deeper into the pile of pillows, her voice coming out muffled as the words tumble forth without pause. “You’re being so nice to me! A-and H-Heulan is so sweet and kind and he made me hot chocolate for breakfast - I couldn’t even thank him properly!” A pause, and then another cry. “I’m such a terrible wife and friend!”

Oh, shit.

She reaches out, tentatively patting Ora’s head. “Would it make you feel better if I pulled out the bad cop routine?”

Ora peers up at her through a crack between some pillows, whatever’s visible of her face bright red and damp. Then comes the reply, a shrill, piercing cry. “N-no!” She covers her eyes again, shoulders trembling with her sobs. “I don’t know!”

“I’m only returning the favour.” She slips a hand under her head, letting out a breath. “You’re a really good friend, Ora.”

“S-stop.” Ora is snivelling now. “Stop being so nice to me - I don’t deserve it.”

“Fine.” She’s starting to get a little exasperated, and wondered if Deiadra would know better what to do in such situations. Then again, she reasons inwardly, Deiadra has experience dealing with actual trauma. As far as she knows, and as far as Ora has told her, there’s absolutely nothing wrong here. “Stop being a baby and get up. You still have to go to work, and your husband’s worried as shit downstairs. Plus I haven’t slept in days, and I’ve got plenty of paperwork to catch up on today, so you damn well better get up so I can get some rest.”

One of the pillows tumble away, revealing the full extent of her friend’s face. Ora is evidently shocked, her complexion stark and her eyes wide. Nothing prepares her for the wail that comes after. “Why are you so mean to me?”

She feels her jaw fall slack. Part of her wants to run back downstairs, where the coffee and sanity reside, but Ora needs her. So she grits her teeth and stays resolutely still, waiting it out.

It’s past dawn by the time the redhead has calmed down enough to form coherent sentences again, and the birds are chirping outside the window. She sits up, wordlessly stroking the redhead’s hair back.

“I’m so sorry, Rei. I don’t know what came over me.” Ora sniffles as she rolls over, her side braid unruly and falling apart. “I feel like an idiot. I’m a mess. Must be PMS.”

A thought occurs to her then, and she can’t help herself from letting out a soft ‘hm’.

Ora looks up, brows furrowed, eyes red-rimmed. “W-what is it?”

“I’ve seen your PMS.” She bites her lip, and feels her heart thump just a little bit stronger. It’s exciting news - especially if her suspicions are confirmed. “I think you should pee on a stick.”

She’s at work hours later when her phone buzzes and she jabs at the screen to find seven messages, all written in uppercase.

I’M PREGNANT???? HEULAN AND I MADE A BABY HELP ME WHAT DO I DO I DON’T KNOW HOW TO MOM???? OH MY GOD I NEED TO TELL MY MOM I’M SO SORRY I CRIED ALL OVER YOU INSIDE OUT WAS REALLY GOOD

She lets out a laugh, leaning back in her swivel chair and placing one hand over her eyes. Three cups of coffee in, she’s still exhausted, but the news warms her heart and she’s happy for her friend.

It’s okay, she types. Movies make me emotional too.

It had been one of those days - a weekend in the Aran Islands spent curled up indoors, away from the pouring rain that had made it impossible for them to visit where they wanted. Sagen had put on a movie about a Chinese martial artist who’d protected his wife in an elevator.

“In the manliest of fashions,” she’d exclaimed.

She’d asked him then if he’d have protected her too, if someone had come after them in an elevator.

Sagen, with his unfailing charm had replied, “I’d be more than happy to beat him up for cutting in.” He’d winked, then. “Considering the sort of things we get up to every time we’re in the elevator together.”

The next time they’d gone into an elevator together - up the Burj to see the Dubai sights, he’d made it a point to keep her safe between the wall and his back, slanting a sidelong smile back at her the entire time.

The movie still makes her laugh - and then it makes her cry.

Ora’s response brings her back to the present. THANKS SO MUCH FOR COMING OVER.

She pokes at her screen. Don’t start again.

I WON’T, comes the reply. And then, after: YOU’LL BE AUNT REI, RIGHT?

She lets out a laugh. If that’s what you want. A pause - and then she finishes her next message, and hits send. And if you’re going to watch another sad movie, make sure you’ve got tissues and plenty of chocolate.

[cathcacen]

Deiadra: You're supposed to be testing things on the rabbit, you know.

Anarei: I do.

Deiadra: Body lotion does not count.

Anarei: But look how soft and fluffy her fur is!

Deiadra:

Anarei: She's very important to the men and women of Virkove. Especially those with dry skin.

Deiadra:

Anarei:

Deiadra: I will cook that rabbit and give you a hat made of its fur.

[cathcacen]

Was doing some Simming/doodling last night, and thought of Deiadra’s background and where she really came from. I could be happy with this!

After, he brushes the silver-blonde tendrils from her forehead, the wisps matted to her ivory skin still damp with cooling sweat. She looks up at him with lilac eyes, unafraid and unashamed, lying on her side with one leg curled over the other, the curtain of gold draped over the silhouette of her ass.

“Why didn’t you say yes?” He asks.

It had been years ago, well over two decades. He remembered it well, him, a young boy, and she a lady at all of thirteen. She’d declined him then, and they hadn’t spoken until the war, when he’d been twenty eight, and she, a shy two years younger.

She shrugged a shoulder, though without dislodging the arm he’s settled around her. “I didn’t like you then.”

He makes a face. “That’s fair, I suppose. I heard you left the keep after.” She watches, amused, as he chuckles. “I half thought I’d scared you away.”

She rolls her eyes. She’s never been tender, nor gentle, Deiadra. Quiet, perhaps, a loner for most part, but there was a spirit in this one that was bold and sometimes even cruel. “I had some pressing matters to attend to, in Westmarch.”

“Ah.” He says. She has family there, he recalls. She doesn’t speak of them, however, and he doesn’t ask. She’d left directly after her mother had passed, in search of a father she’d never met, and likely had no idea she even existed.

“I had to find my father.” She remarks, answering the question he doesn’t ask. “And after, I came back. We were children before, and now we are not.”

He kisses her forehead. “No, we are not, any more.”

She doesn’t tell him why she came back. Why she left Westmarch, bags and trunks and head filled with knowledge she’d gleaned from the apothecary masters of the city, with a pledge to never return. Why she’d left her father’s house in the dead of the night, leaving stepmother, sisters, and a baby brother who had loved her dearly.

She doesn’t tell him, her sleeping lover, that she resents them all. Resents them for the life she’d never had, the familial bonds she’d found far too late. She resents that she lacked the strength and courage to poison them all - poison and kill them all for the life they lived, for their abandonment of her. It was father’s fault - none but his, that she had suffered a heartbroken, hard mother who had wished her gone. 

She doesn’t tell him that she resents their kindness the most, in taking her in and naming her one of their own. She hates them for it, even. Too good, too pure, too kind.

She does not regret the thoughts that linger in her head, of the years she’d spent haunting the courtyard with the family well, vial in hand. She does not regret plotting murder, but what she lacks in regret, she makes up for in fear.

“You will be hunted to the end of your days.” She’d known this. Fear of losing her freedom was all that kept her from ending her father’s life. Fear of being hunted, and fear of prison, and fear of death. And so, in lieu of entertaining such thoughts, she’d left. Packed her things, left the city, and fled, back to the Keep, where the king’s justice would surely watch her night and day, giving her no option but to be lawful.

She looks at him, large and muscled, sleeping beside her. Trusting her, as one trusts family. She thinks he is stupid sometimes, but some part of her wishes she could trust the way he does, and love as easily. He does not fear her; but he does not know of her resentment, nor of her lack of regret.

She thinks that if he knew, he would cease to trust her, never sleep so soundly in her presence again.

It is not the crime she fears; it is the judgment.

She thinks herself mad sometimes, harbouring the hatred and anger within her. In the old days, the fire would burn so strong that some nights, she would lie in bed and wish everyone in the world dead, and that she were, also. It’s a quiet ember these days, but they’d spoken of it before, and she feels the coals brightening.

Let it go. She tells herself this, over and over. Enough good people have died to protect the cruel and the selfish. 

She looks at her lover again. He, too, had lost - father and friends alike. 

Let it go. 

She nestles against him and shuts her eyes. The coals within soften and quiet.

In the morning, she tells him everything. That same night, she finds him sleeping just as soundly.

I should have said yes, she thinks.