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cathcacen · 7 years ago

Note

100 writer's prompts: assign each of the prompts (or most, if you get sick of it) to a pair of our RP kids!

Took a while, but boy has this been fun! A HUNDRED MINI DRABBLES AND JUST AS MANY HEADCANONS.

Some have been replaced from the GDocs file I shared before, to better spread around the character love! And I’m sure there’ll be edits in the morning when I’m awake. XD

Enjoy!

“Youkeep saying it’s us against the world, but you’re wrong.” The tempers areflaring, and she knows she’ll regret it in the morning but daddy’s dead and shehas no time for self-serving indignance. Arlais is red in the face, fistsclenched as he bears down upon her, and she straightens to her full height toglare straight back. “You’re wrong, because we are the world. All of usare the world – me, and Mae, and everyone else in that house on the hill. Ifyou want to stand on the opposite end of the world that daddy built, be myguest, but don’t drag me into your shit.”

She’sdown at the creek on her favourite rock, lying on her back with her fingers inthe water when he finds her. He wades across and flicks some water in her face,and she laughs, wriggling over to make room for him. “You okay?” He nudges herelbow once he settles by her side. The others are still laughing and chattingat his farewell dinner. “You ran out of there pretty fast.”

“Yeah.”She turns her head to face him, curls brushing her temple. “Just needed someair. You should be packing – you’re leaving in three days.”

“Iknow.” He shuts his eyes and lets out a breath. It’s nice by the river, withthe cool water and the crisp air and leaves flicking lazily overhead. “I justwanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Hm?”Her voice lilts a bit.

Hesmiles broadly. “You’re my person. Gotta make sure I leave you laughing andsmiling, right? It’s the last I’ll see of you for a year after all.”

He’sso damn unattainable, but she’s had him on her mind for weeks now. They’d had acommunal sparring session that day, and the way he’d moved had gotten her allhot and bothered. Eala had laughed at her for it afterwards, but she knows thatbitch has tried before. I’ll succeedwhere she failed.

Shewaits until he’s alone before sidling up to him. He looks a little wary, butshe carries on the conversation, content with his awkward, mulish responses.Eventually, she gives up and goes on the offensive. “Four, you really aredense, aren’t you? I’m flirting with you.”

Heraises a brow at her, and she rolls her eyes. Then she kisses him, and tries togrope for gold – and it isn’t until he throws her off with a yell and stalksaway that she realises he must prefer men after all.

Theyelling permeates the halls and corridors of the keep, waking half theinfirmary and sending the soldiers into an amused frenzy. “FOR GODS’ SAKELIEUTENANT, I CAN LACE UP MY OWN BRACERS AND I CAN DAMN WELL PROTECT MYSELFTOO.”

Don’t ask myopinion when you’re just going to do what you want.The vixen’s voice is sharp in his head – his familiar is clearly angry at him.He chuckles softly, reaching out, and is glad to find she isn’t too proud topress her head into his palm. “Of course I’d listen. After all, you practicallyown me.”

She doesn’t expect tofind anyone home, but a few soft clinks from Lear’s study alerts her to hispresence. They share a wall, so when he doesn’t respond to her tap with their predeterminedknock, her suspicion is aroused. It’s Ora she finds seated at his desk, wide-eyedand panicked at being caught. “DON’T COME IN HERE.”

“What the hell are youdoing?” The two have been feuding for weeks. Lear had spent days hunting actualdemons, terrorising the huntress with rubbery bits of skin after, and Ora hadretaliated by replacing all his pants with tight, bright-red leggings. “Youaren’t going to set his study on fire, are you? Because we kind of need a roofover our heads, and if it spreads…”

“Not his study.” Orashakes a small leather bag, grinning. “Just his ass. I’ll buy you a new chairafter this, I promise.”

She stares at the huntressfor several short seconds before deciding it isn’t worth the trouble talkingher out of this. “Be careful you don’t touch your face after you dust his seat.”

He’shad a big fall and the world is swimming, but when the nearby footsteps giveway to the shape of a person he recognises, he can’t help but be relieved. Learsteps into his line of vision, and he’s just about to call out to the man whena flash of colour causes him to flinch.

“Justlook at me.” Lear tugs off his eyepatch, fully revealing the bright red orbthat gleams where his left eye should be. He watches, horrified, as theLieutenant digs around in the socket, and struggles to scrabble away when thething is offered to him. “Come on, drink up, Captain.”

Hecan’t help it. He screams.

He’sread and re-read the note so many times, and it’s been passed around just asmuch, so the little scrap of paper is well crumpled by now. His hand tremblesas he throws it at Lear where he currently lies – wounded, exhausted, andcovered in stings from Cydaea herself. “You piece of shit.” He’s trying very hard,but knows the shouting is inevitable. “WHY DID YOU DO THIS?!”

He can’t quitebelieve Heulan has this kind of violence in him, but there they are anyway, themonk a force of righteous fury. He grunts as Heulan shoves him up against thewall, and struggles to shake him off - the monk is stronger than he looks. Whatthe hell?

“How could you?”Heulan’s voice is raised - just enough to be heard, but nowhere near full-blownyelling. Somehow, the alternative is less scary. “I TRUSTED YOU!”

“DAMN IT, LEAR!” She’sshouting too loudly and it’s rude, she knows, but one way or another, this isthe last time Lear pulls a fast one on her. “I thought the damned poison spikeswere bad enough but this is downright juvenile! I’m done with you and yourArreat War tapestries. You’re so disrespectful!”

He smirks at fromwhere he sits at the breakfast table, sipping tea. She wants to slap his face. “You’rethe one who keeps calling them demon skins. Who’s disrespectful now?”

He’s never seen hiswife as despondent, nor his daughter as petulant. It hurts him in ways he’dnever expected to be hurt. A few months following her move across the countrywith her new husband fresh out of high school, he takes the car and drives toher. When she opens the door, eyes wide and startled, he reaches out to grabhis daughter and relishes in her warmth as he wraps both arms about her. “Youhave to stop pushing me away.” His voice is hard, but he needs her tounderstand. “Baby, we just want the best for you.”

Thewind is turbulent about them, tugging strands of hair from the thick bun atopher head. Where they stand, high upon the edge of the waterfall, she can seethe edges of the forest, and the silhouette of Westmarch further to the South.In stark contrast to her own uncertainty, Mae is standing right at the edge,laughing, arms thrown up as he greets his friends. When he turns to her, hiseyes are bright, and he stretches out a hand, willing her to follow. “Come on,Lars! I can’t do this without you.” He pauses, then shakes his head quickly.“Okay, I can, but it won’t feel the same, so trust me? Take the leap with me?”

Hecan feel the salt of the sea on his face, the wind in his hair and the firewithin. The earth beneath his feet pulses, and he can feel it all, the vibranceand life of the world around him. A little bird sings a song in a branchoverhead. He takes a deep breath and lets out a contented sigh. What kind of life would we live without youall? He knows the answer well. It wouldn’tbe life at all.

Shehadn’t meant to start crying. In retrospect, it was somewhat embarrassing, butonce she’d started she couldn’t stop. She’d fallen down chasing after anelusive white hare with Mae, torn her dress, and scraped her knee. Mommy’s going to shout at me.

There’sblood and sand clinging off the broken skin of her knee, and Mae is flailing infront of her in a frenzy, eyes wide in panic. “Don’t cry, Lars!”

Sheshakes her head at him, covering her face with her hands. Part of her wonderswhy Mae isn’t laughing at her – most of the bigger children laugh when thebabies cry, but Mae is all kindness and warmth. She lets out a shocked breath whenhe kneels, grabs both her hands, and presses gentle kisses to her bruised,bloodied knee. “Please smile? I need you to smile.”

Shegulps down some air. It still stings, but she smiles for him, and he holds herhand the entire walk home.

“Youdon’t get to make decisions for me. I’m not your wife. I’m not even your girlfriendanymore.” Sehrai brushes past him, and he watches her disappear into theSouthbound ferry. He waits until the ferry has departed, saying the goodbyes inhis mind. Did I love her? He doesn’tknow – but it doesn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.

Thelittle boy laughs as she tackles him into the grass. His legs are shorter, soit isn’t hard to catch up to him. Still, she knows he likes when she at leastpretends to have a hard time chasing, so she gives him a head start. Shepretends to gnaw at his shoulder as her hands tickle his side. “I’m gonna eatyou!”

Cethwriggles, breaking out into fits of laughter as he struggles, and fails tothrow her off. “Let me go! Ma!”

After,when she’s done tickling him into submission, they lay together, his head uponher chest. He snuggles closer, stifling a yawn, and she holds him closer. “Ilove you, baby.” She smiles into his soft hair. “I love you so much, you know?”

He’shalf asleep, but manages to respond. “I know. I love you too, ma.”

Hefinds her out in the open in a tree, legs swinging off a high branch. There’sbeen too much fighting as of late – among the soldiers and among the people athome, so he’s eager to get this weight off his chest, at the very least. Hestrides right up to her tree. She ignores him, and he leans back against thetree trunk, sighing tiredly.

“Ididn’t know you were a stalker.” Thankfully, she doesn’t sound irritated. Giventhe way their last conversation had gone, he’s grateful for it. “I thought I did all the stalking.”

“Youstalk things to kill, though.” He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of hisnose – the headache isn’t helping. “So I’d rather you didn’t stalk me.”

Thenurses and obstetrician swim in and out of focus as she braces herself to push.Everything hurts, and even though Heulan’s stuck to his promise, to wear thatstupid-ass T-Shirt she’d printed for him weeks ago, she finds no relief inhumour. He’s there, though, laughing through his tears as he holds her hand andkisses her forehead. By now, her mother and father will be on the way, ready towelcome their first grandchild into the world.

Onlygrandchild, if she has her way. “I’M NEVER DOING THIS AGAIN!” The shriek echoesin the room, drawing a nervous laugh from her husband even while the doctorsettles in between her legs. “FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!”

“Holyshit, Ora.” She finds the redhead crouched in a corner, whimpering like a baby.It happens once in a while – Ora frequently gets into unsavoury situations,with the worst of them requiring actual medical attention. “What’s wrong withyou this time?”

Oralets out a shrill, pained cry. “We were hiking and I took a pee, and I think Ihave poison oak where nobody should have poison oak. HELP ME!”

She hadn’t expectedto find their young housekeeper crying in her bathroom, but she’s fond of thegirl, so the sight is more than troubling. “Erika, what’s wrong?” Ora kneels bythe edge of the bathtub, where the pretty, dark-haired woman is currentlysitting, wiping at her running eyeliner. “Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Erika sniffles, herface blotchy and pink - a mixture of embarrassment and shame. “Nothing.”

She hands the youngwoman her soda, patting her lightly on the back. “Either your boss is givingyou hell, or your boyfriend is. And I know I’m an amazing boss, so if you needme to go beat up your boyfriend, just say the word.”

“N-no, Miss Ora. I’mokay.” Erika holds the soda glumly, looking down at her feet. She manages afaint smile after - it’s a little odd, but she shrugs it off. It’s a personalsubject after all.

“I just want to makesure you’ll be okay, so… call me anytime, okay?” She pats the young woman’shand lightly, then straightens. “Go home. I’ll finish cleaning up for the day.”

Itwouldn’t be proper, but the judgment of men is nothing to the truth presentedbefore the gods. The woman before him is crying, and clearly in need of afriend. He rights his robes and sits down on a chair, and waits it out. Whenshe stops, clearly embarrassed, he beams at her. “Can I stay? I’ll cook us somedinner, and we can talk.”

Hedoesn’t know why it hasn’t occurred to him in their three months of therapy,but it’s all suddenly clear to him. His brother-in-law sets down afreshly-brewed cup of tea, and his mind is instantly pulled back to that day inRei’s apartment – artisanal spiced tea, individually bagged with whole cinnamonshards, star anise, cloves, and other spices he can’t recall. Lear’s made itclear enough to him, that his relationship with Rei had begun before the Dzisnaincident. The wheels turn in his head, and it finally clicks.

“Ohmy god.” He points at Lear, who simply raises a brow. “Shit, it’s you. It’salways been you. You’re the affair!”

“Iknow a stupid, naïve, self-important seventeen-year-old can’t possibly knowlove – not without some measure of uncertainty, anyway. But I’m not seventeenany more, and I still love you.” She’s tired of holding it in. If it ends here, it ends.

Hestares at her like he has no answer, and she’s certain it’s because he doesn’t.He tries for a light, courteous smile. “You’re just mixed up and unhappy,Anarei. The loneliness will pass.”

Shelets out a weak, incredulous laugh. “No. I’m not lonely. I’m just dumb enoughto love you, even after all these years. So now it’s your turn to decide. If youwant me, say the words. If I don’t hear anything from you, I’ll know to moveon.”

Oraknows she’ll have to tell Ceth someday – tell him why there are days it hurtsso much she can’t get out of bed, and why she sometimes screams in the middleof the night and can’t sleep until Gramma climbs into bed and strokes her hair.But it’s difficult, and she doesn’t know how to say it. So she goes another daywithout spitting out the words.

Renialevels her with a look that’s at once pitying and understanding. The questionin her eyes says it all: Have you told him?

Shegoes to the older woman and lays her head upon her shoulder. “Just one moreday, mommy. Let him be happy one more day.”

“Soa girl this time, huh? Have you all decided on a name?” She grins as shereclines in her seat at the Seracs’ home.

Beforeher, Ora’s belly is large and round, and she’s rubbing it with one hand as theother brings a chocolate éclair to her mouth. She takes a bite, sighing incontentment, then chews and swallows before answering. “Cake.”

Somewhereinside the kitchen, Heulan corrects her, his voice exasperated amidst theclattering of pots and pans. “CATE.”

Oragiggles, then winks at her, mouthing: It’sso fun to piss him off. “CAKE.” She says, louder.

Inall the time he’s known Laori, he’s never seen her this worried. She paces theinfirmary while the newcomer sleeps, then at times, he wonders at the way sheglances to the exit, to where the city’s gates stand, her legs just a breathaway from breaking into a run. Once or twice, he sees her actually taking a fewsteps beyond their barricades, but the pull of her recovering friend isevidently too strong, and she always comes back.

Threenights into the newcomer’s arrival, he catches Laori sitting by herself on thesteps of the enclave. It’s a clear night, so the gulf is visible from wherethey are. Further north lies her home. She glances up with a smile when hesettles by her side, and he squeezes her shoulder lightly. “Homesick?”

“Alittle.” She rubs at her arms, then slumps forward. “I didn’t think home wouldcatch up with me all the way down here, though.” Her voice lowers, and shemutters. “Should’ve gone straight up to Xiansai instead.”

“Andmiss the chance to partake in all this?” He gestures around the burningbuildings in the commons below, giving her a wry smile. “Surely not.”

Shelets out a laugh, and for a moment, he wonders what had happened to make her soeager to leave home in the first place. “And we wouldn’t have met then.”

“Yeah.”He catches her eye. “Are you okay though?”

“Mmhmm.”She turns away, glancing back towards the infirmary building down the street.“I guess I’m just tired of running away.”

Noneof them sleep particularly well in the days after Malthael’s death. She joltsawake near midnight, Niall and Lios flashing in her mind. It’s a struggle toget comfortable, and she can’t seem to find the right posture. Eventually, Maestarts to notice when she wakes, and it’s on one of those cold, terrifyingnights that he finally rolls over onto his back and pulls her up into his arms.

Shelays her head on his chest, letting out a breath. He’s warm, and just beneaththe hard muscle, she can hear his heart beating. We’re still alive. She snuggles closer. “Do you ever miss home,Mae?”

Hesqueezes her before answering, half asleep, “You’re my home. Now go to sleep.”

It’s raining. Shemarvels at just how cliché the scenario is as she stares out the window of herbus; it’s cold, Dolly Parton is singing a sad song of heartbreak on the radio,and she’s surrounded by complete strangers who pointedly turn the other waywhen they catch glimpses of her red-rimmed, teary eyes. Not two hours ago,she’d caught Dillon in bed with their eighteen-year-old maid. She’s pretty, Orasupposes, in a buxom, exotic sort of way, with dark skin and pretty olive eyes.She’s everything I’m not.

The lights in herparents’ home are on when she finally gets back. By then, she’s soaked through.But it’s when she sees her mom’s face, filled with surprise, concern, andheartbreak that she finally breaks down again. With her face against hermother’s chest, she sobs, “I have nowhere to go, mommy. I’m so sorry.”

It’sa nice, sunny day, and she’s enjoying the warmth of the sun upon her face andshoulders. They’ve been bicycling around the park all morning, and she’s eagerfor the packed lunch he’s made them that’s sitting in the back seat of his car.He hands her a slice of quiche packed in a box. “Carrot, zucchini, onion, andsundried tomato. And don’t you dare pick anything out.”

Shegiggles at him, but digs in without complaint. They eat in silence for a fewminutes, and when she flops down onto her back, he smiles softly and tucks hersunglasses properly into place. She meets his eyes and beams. That’s when theverbal diarrhoea strikes.

“Ididn’t imagine our first date like this.”

Heraises a brow, and she’s suddenly aware that she’s said too much. Mortified,she turns away to hide her face, shrieking in embarrassment as she does. “IMEAN, A DATE AS FRIENDS, BECAUSE FRIENDS CAN DATE TOO.”

Shecan’t bring herself to look at Ceth the entire week he and Cel pack, and by thetime the day arrives, her friend is close to breaking point. He’s pesteredIliev about it and she can’t help but feel bad for it. So when he shows up atthe stable where she’s brushing Siggy down for the day, she doesn’t excuseherself hurriedly.

“Wantto tell me what’s wrong?” It’s not often that Ceth looks annoyed, but today hedoes, and he has every right to. It’s not his fault he fell in love, and it’snot his fault he lives so damn far away. “Or are you going to avoid me now thatI’m married? What is it?”

Shepresses her forehead against Siggy’s neck, frowning. “It’s not that.”

“What,then? Are you jealous?” He folds his arms, then immediately lets out a soft‘oh!’ as realisation sinks in. He’s inherited his mother’s intuition. “Oh gods.You are jealous, but not of Cel.You’re upset at me.”

“I’mnot upset. I’m just pre-emptively missing my best friend now she’s moving awayto live with you.” She tries not to sound petulant, but thinks she fails. “Iknow it’s dumb.”

“Lars,no.” Ceth reaches out to grab and hug her, and she slumps against him. “That’sthe most important friendship in your life, of course it isn’t dumb. Things aregonna change, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. And for what it’s worth, you’realways welcome at the farm.”

Northernersare a rowdy bunch – he’s met a few on his travels, and the Druids of Scosglenare every bit as loud and raucous as their Western Barbarian brethren. Ora’slaughing, flowers and leaves bouncing off the huge autumn wreath on her head ashe tosses his robes at her. She treats his yellow sash with reverence, gentlyand carefully tucking it around her neck, then slings the rest of his robesover her shoulder where they sag against her small frame. Opposite themud-filled ring, his first opponent is cracking his knuckles, a good-naturedsmile upon his face. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

She’ssitting on the steps of Heulan’s house on the phone with her mom, watching theclumsy little puppy waddle about the curb. It’s been a long day, but the sightof the cute little boy makes her grin in a giddy, silly sort of way. Already,three people passing by have glanced her way, all looking vaguely amused at thesight of her giggling at the puppy’s antics. “I’m glad you and daddy had a goodValentine’s day! You should come up soon and meet our new baby.”

Hueisniffs at some plants – then, before she can stop him, he squats, and lets outa dump right on the steps. “Oh, shit!”

“Whathappened?” Mom sounds amused on the other end. “Did the baby do somethinggross?”

“I’llcall you back.” She sighs heavily as she gets to her feet. “I fall for theworst ones.”

“Youknow you love him.”

“Ido, and I love you too.” She hangs up, digs in her jacket for some napkins, thenuses them to clean up the hot mess. Huei wags his tail at her as she bends toscoop him up after, and she can’t help but giggle as the little black puppylicks her nose. “Damn it. You have me wrapped around your silly little paws.”

It’sbeen weeks since Ora had returned from Entsteig, but she’s still too skinny tobe allowed. Heulan doesn’t let on much, but she knows he’s concerned, so shesummons Ora to her study one day and asks her outright if she knows what’sgoing on. The answer isn’t exactly pleasant, but she’s grateful for Ora’shonesty. Blood sickness.

Overthe course of the next month, she digs up every single tome that mentions thesubject. She consults with Deiadra to see about developing a potion for thesickness – one with less devastating effects. Once that’s set in motion, shecalls Ora back into her study and lays out the plan. Treat the symptoms as theyarise. Keep faith. Hope Deiadra works her magic.

“Youdon’t have to do this.” Ora grips the edge of her desk, her knuckles pale. “Butthank you.”

Her mother’s voicehas the magical effect of calming her down, so she dials the number, biting hernails while she waits. It’s just a little bit past ten, so her parents willlikely be awake, winding down for the night. Her mother answers soon enough,sounding confused and concerned. “Ora? Why’re you calling so late?”

“We kissed.” She’sstruggling to breathe. It wasn’t that it had been unexpected, but Heulan is sogood to her - so good as a person, and she’s terrified at the prospect ofruining this relationship too. “Mommy, I kissed a boy and I really like him.”

“Heulan?” Her momsounds amused. “Sweetie, that train was coming at you whether you realised itor not. He’s good for you.”

“I know!” She wails,throwing her hands in the air. “But what if I’m not good enough for him?”

She’sso very tired, and she wishes papa were there. But he’s not and she feels sodamn alone. Mae spends all his time locked up with General Haile, planning forthe coming battles. When she isn’t trying to make sure her boyfriend is atleast eating, Lars goes on long scouting missions on her own. Niall trains withSerrah every single day, and she joins them from time to time, but it’sdifferent somehow and she needs her family. But most of them have retreated toSharval by now, and she has no one to talk to.

It’snot Lorath’s fault, but she’s in a foul mood when he shows up to share theHoradrim’s latest plans. He probably means well, but when he points out herrecent lack of focus and her tired eyes, she doesn’t hold back. “You think Ishould go back to Sharval too, don’t you? Little Miss Theone, too pampered andtoo precious to fight? I don’t need to prove anything to you; I’ve lost lovedones to this war too, and if you think I’m going to abandon my cousin to faceMalthael on his own, you’re wrong.”

Hefinds the young boy at the foot of his parents’ graves long after the guestshave gone. A small bunch of yellow flowers rest before the new gravestone, thefirst offering, the most important offering. He steps up to the boy, placing anarm around him. The scene is almost too familiar. He recognises it, andsomething flares inside – something bitter and sorrowful.

“I’mangry at her.” Ceth still has a child’s voice, but he already sounds older.“I’m so angry at her for leaving me behind.”

Hebites his lip; he recognises this sentiment, also. “But do you still love her?”Ceth doesn’t answer straightaway, so he gives the young boy a light squeeze. “Ofcourse you do. You’re mad because you love her. I promise you, though – Ceth, Ipromise you, your mother will never be far from your side. As long as you keepher in your heart and mind, she’ll never leave you.”

Herstudy feels so damn cold. The shelves are too empty, filled with vials that havebeen washed, sterilised, and then sterilised again. Despite the new batch oftest potions bubbling away on her work table, she knows there’s no replacingwhat she’s lost. She’s still sulking when Ailey pops in, freckled nosewrinkling at the sight of her so grouchy. “Seriously, are you still upset?”

“Hekilled Beagan.” The words come out more petulant than she’d intended, but godsshe’s mad.

“Rei,the fact that you kept a mutated potion worm around for years is disturbingenough, but to name it too…”

Shescowls, hating the way Ailey actually sounds a little bit relieved. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Iam!” Ailey laughs lightly. “But maybe it’ll help if you stop thinking about it.”

Thestupid cat’s got out again, and she’s been looking for him without success fortwo hours now. It’s hard to track when all she has are stone steps, so it’spast midnight by the time she finds the tabby. He’s up in a tree on the edge ofa nobleman’s courtyard; at the sight of her, he lets out a plaintive meow,calling out to be rescued.

Sheswears under her breath, then glances furtively about. This late at night, thestreets of Westmarch are usually deserted. She’s all alone, so she starts toscale the wall without a second thought. “Come here. Gods, you make me wannadie.”

Itisn’t until screams pierce the night that she realises she’s not alone, afterall. The cat lets out a yowl and darts away, using her as a stepladder; hedisappears into the night, and she’s left to stare at the master and mistressof the house. The guards descend upon her quickly enough, and she barely hastime to curse the damn cat for his betrayal before they drag her to theauthorities for attempted break-and-enter.

He knows he’s takingtoo damn long looking through the new designs, and that Parts has somewhereelse to be, but he’s having so much fun. Three hours pass before he realises,and by the time he glances up, Parts is glaring at him, equal measures excitedand agitated. “For fuck’s sake, Bones, will you just tell me what you thinkalready?”

“I’m not done yet. Irefuse to give you an incomplete assessment.” He holds the part - a new,fully-mechanised design for elbow joint replacements, to his chest. “You can’tmake me.”

Hehates when she tries to make excuses for Dillon. For someone so smart, Ora canbe so damn dim where her husband is concerned. They’re sitting at a gelato café,but Ora’s has already melted into a gooey, chocolate-strawberry puddle. It’sunlike her to be put off by dessert, but she’s been a little distracted thesepast few months. She’s lost far too much weight and it shows in a bad way. Itdrives him up the wall.

“He’snot a bad person.” She swirls her ruined gelato around her cup, dark-lined eyeslowered. “This Dillon you know now, he isn’t the same guy I fell in love with.”

Helets out a sigh and pulls away her cup. “Ora, I don’t think that guy is comingback. Maybe it’s time to face facts.”

Shelooks up at him, eyes teeming with tears. It’s a hard truth, but someone has tosay it. The only thing he regrets is her broken heart. Wordlessly, he reachesout to take her hand under the table. He lets her sob, pointedly staring down acouple of curious passers-by. And when she’s done, he hands her a napkin,bundles her up in his jacket and takes her home.

“What’sthe matter, Four?” He digs his boot into the prisoner’s fingers, squashing theminto the ground; he won’t remain tied up like this for much longer. The tormentorsare on their way with their snazzy contraptions, but he’ll be damned if hedoesn’t get in his own dose of torture first. “Aren’t you happy to see me? Aww,you’re hurting my feelings.”

It’sbeen hours since he’d gotten back from scouting the nearby woods, but theimagery of the two Virkovians bathing in the little pond is still fresh in hismind. He has his face in his hands, hating Lorath for even daring to suggestthat he should’ve joined them after all. “I can’t believe you’re making fun ofme, you bastard.”

Lorathhad needled the story out of him without much trouble. He’s evidently stillamused, and the grin upon his face is broad and bright. Despite the airs heputs on, the Horadrim has a mean streak when it comes to humour. “I’m notmaking fun of you. I’m merely insinuating that swimming nude with two attractivepeople can’t be that bad. Especially when it’s this obvious you like the blondeone.”

Hegroans aloud. “I just wanna forget about this, so please shut your mouth,Horadrim.”

Hethrows her flat onto her back, and the pain sears through her all at once –bones from the earth pierce her thigh and calf, and she can just see the onethrough her abdomen if she strains hard enough. Strahan is probably dead, and I’m going to die here too.

Karalirleans over her, his aqua-blue eyes gleaming at his prize. “I’m glad you came.”His voice is honey smooth as a spear forms in his hand, off-white, veined withred. “Goodnight, sweet girl.”

They’veonly just made their way into the manor’s courtyard when soft singing catcheshis attention. The two women are singing at each other, laughing and testingtheir voices as Amaethon’s robin flits between their shoulders. Lars’ voice islower and stronger, but she can hold a tune and it works well alongside Theone’ssweeter tones. He quirks a lopsided smile.

Later,Mae tells him all about the time he and Lars had sung together in a tree.

They haven’t met inyears, but the man is much changed. The lines beneath his eyes have deepened,and his shoulders are slumped. He’s spent the years wandering - she’s seen itall. “I still think of her, you know. Every day.” He tells her. A bitter smilecurls his lips, not quite reaching his dark, weary eyes.

She manages a smileof her own. “You’re always haunting my dreams.” She takes his hand. “The bothof you.”

They’ve been friendsfor years - the eldest of the pack have to stick together after all, and he’shappy to have someone of equal fervour where it comes to keeping the littleones in line. It’s fun, and he especially enjoys when Theone starts to yell.

He doesn’t want to besurprised, but he is when Theone takes her cousin’s side in the first of theirsquabbles. She finds him hours later, angrily chopping up firewood behind hishouse. But he’s too pissed off to talk and Theone’s temper rivals his own. “Idon’t trust you anymore,” He growls.

“That’s just bloodyperfect.” Her voice and face are both hard. “Because I don’t trust you any moreeither.”

She’s never hurt himbefore. They’ve always been rough, jostling against walls and trees,heavy-handed pressure, nails and teeth and vice-like grips included, but thisis a first. He yelps and cries out in pain, bucking against her so hard shefalls off the edge of the couch. He looks slightly sheepish as he leans over tolook down at her, and she’s just about to apologise when she realises he’s gotblood blooming down the side of his shirt.

“Oh my god, you’rehurt?” She pulls her bra back into place as she leaps to her feet. “Shit - whydidn’t you tell me?”

“I’m okay, Naveau.Kiss me and it’ll all go away.” He grunts tiredly as she props him up and ripsoff his undershirt. There’s a cut on his side, taped up beneath a layer ofgauze and cream. “Knife fight went bad. Don’t worry.”

“Shut up.” She runsfor the first-aid box in their rental and gets to work. The cut is not toodeep, but it’s crystal clear to her now, why he’d winced so hard when she’draked her fingers down to his navel. “Damn it, if you’re too injured for thehanky panky stuff, just say so next time.”

“I’m never tooinjured for the hanky panky stuff.”

She throws him adirty look and he shuts it. Minutes later, she finds him watching her, grinningin that winning manner. “Stop staring at me.”

“It’s not often I getmedical attention from a half-naked doctor. Let a man live.”

She wraps the injuryup, then pulls on his discarded business shirt, too lazy to shimmy into herdress again. “Well, tonight, we’re going to live the Netflix and No Chillexperience.”

He taps his lips. “Iget kisses and snuggles, right?”

She rolls her eyes.“Yes, you big baby. Now find the remote while I go make us some tea.”

The little girl laboursso damn hard, but it’s only a few sad sprouts that grow from her garden, acouple of thin carrots and a straggly stalk of celery. Still, she’d tried hardand had even made a fuss of cooking them up in a watery soup.

Mother, father, andRei are late coming home that night, so it’s left to him to try out the oily,lumpy, and slightly mushy stuff. He drinks it all down, eager to protect thelittle girl’s feelings.

Later, in need ofsome food, he sneaks down to the kitchen. Izzy pokes her head out of her roomas he passes, grinning sheepishly. “I know dinner was terrible, but thanks foreating it anyway.”

There’s been way toomuch tequila. One too many martinis. A couple of bad decisions. She hadn’texpected to end up in the manwhore’s bed, but here she is anyway, tucked intothe crook beneath his jaw, his arms wrapped firmly about her middle. Fuck.

He grunts groggily asshe wriggles away. “Leaving already?”

“Shut up.” She rollsout of bed, digging around for her clothes. The party dress she’d put on forthe hospital’s gala from the night before lies crumpled by the door. She’s notabout to do the two-day walk of shame into work. “Can I borrow your shirt?”

He hasn’t visited inyears, but the twins are surprisingly civil when he does with his new family.When she isn’t busy knitting warm clothing for Chryse - to keep you and thelittle one inside warm - she spends time with Mae. That leaves him withplenty of time to dig deep, returning to his roots and heritage. In time, Flynnjoins him in the woods, and they tread the underbrush together. He feels alivein these moments, his other senses heightened by the magic of his people.

He’s just returningto himself one day when he feels something soft brush his leg. Flynn’s voice issoft beside him; the man kneels, then straightens with a flourish, letting outa wry chuckle. “You caught a feather.”

Soft chirping fromabove alerts him as to the feather’s origins. A meadowlark nearby rustles hisfeathers. He chuckles softly, then nods at his half-brother. “So I see.”

“Can I keep it?”Flynn sounds surprisingly genuine. “It’s nice to have a memento of our timetogether. I’ve enjoyed your company.”

He blinks, a littletaken aback and a little touched. “Of course.”

She’s terrified.Azmodan’s forces had been so close to winning the day after all. Heulan hadalmost died from that mana injury, and she’s at once furious, touched, andsaddened. He’s sleeping now, paler than usual, his skin clammy to the touch. Atsome point in the day, he’d woken up just long enough to tell her not to worry- as if that would help matters any. She can’t sleep, so she makes her way overto his room, clambering into his bed and curling up by his side. “You weren’tsupposed to love me,” She whispers.

But he did, and does- and because of that, he’s hurt. I can’t let that happen again.

Mia has every rightto be happy, she knows, but something in her gut stirs at the sight of hersister, at first human flesh and bone, and then fur and tail. She watches asthey run together - Mia, Mae, and their father, wolves in a pack she has nobusiness longing to join. And when Mia comes home one day, Ikaika fresh on herheels, she can’t help but feel her heart snap in half.

It’s inevitable, butthe day comes when Mel finally snaps at her sister. It’s over something stupid- they’d been arguing over whose turn it had been to do the dishes, and she’dblown up, all the pent-up jealousy of the past few years erupting in one shortminute. By the time she’s done, Mia is staring at her, glassy-eyed through hertears. She immediately regrets her decision, but when she reaches out, her twinbacks away, angrily wiping away her tears.

Mia’s words are coldas ice. “I hate you.”

Shewakes feeling groggy and her head hurts. There’s a throbbing in her temple thatcorresponds with the vague memory of a falling brick. They’d been walking alongthe main street, deep in discussion about the new maps requested by ScoutmasterYleris. She hadn’t seen it coming.

That bloodybricklayer better have a grand apology planned out.

“How’reyou feeling, Lars?” Uncle Lear’s voice is mild, but if he’s sitting with her inthe infirmary, he’s definitely worried.

“LikeI want to throw up.” She doesn’t want to worry him further, but a day off wouldbe welcome. “Can’t you see? I got hit by a brick. I’m broken up.”

Helets out a laugh. “Clearly not broken up enough if you’re trying to weasel yourway out of work tomorrow.” He lays his hand on her forehead, and she catcheshis smile. “Fine. Take tomorrow off, then. But you’re to stay in bed andrecuperate. I’d better not find you outside chasing birds with Mae. Understood?”

Sheshuts her eyes and tries for her best obedient smile. “Sure. Thanks, UncleLear.”

Thehorses are all set and he’s ready to go. It’s not a short journey by anystretch, but he’s been away from home too long and he misses his mom. They’vemapped out the journey – a boat to the edge of the dreadlands, and then a fewdays’ ride to the water before sailing northwards once more.

Chryseisn’t pleased at being left behind, but he has a very good reason. He needs tofocus, and he can’t do that when she’s there. Still, she deserves some closure– at least for now, so he takes her hands. “I’ll be back soon. It’s notforever.”

“Dowe still have a chance?” She’s never been afraid to speak her mind. He knowswhat she means. “I know you have to do this and I’m so proud of you – but couldwe? Someday?”

Hesmiles and kisses her knuckles. “Someday. Six months.”

Cel’shair is full of life; the soft waves are lustrous and silky soft, like AuntieChryse’s. Lars tries to not be envious, but Cel is always happy to let her playwith it. The braids are full-bodied; she’s halfway through when Mae darts inthrough the door, flailing. “Averard says the crater is doing something cool!Let’s go, Lars!”

Shebrightens up, almost running off before Cel yells, exasperated, “Don’t stopnow!” The exasperation is soon replaced by genuine laughter as Mae takes up theother half of her hair. “Oh my god, you two are hopeless.”

Theyfinish the braids at the same time – quickly and perfectly, then drag Cel withthem to go see the sights of nature together.

Inall the months they’d spent together, he’s really only heard Ahnja angry acouple of times. The first time, he’d been newly wheelchair-bound and depressed,and in fit of panic had lashed out at his mother. He’d apologised immediatelyafter, but Ahnja had told him off for it. He can’t remember what had caused thesecond incident, but one thing remains clear – Ahnja tolerates attacks againstherself, but it’s when others are unjustly berated that her temper flares. I’m paid to take your shit, she’d yelledthat one time. So if you’ve got anytantrums to throw, throw them at me.

Lookingback, he doesn’t really know how he got so used to having her around. He findshimself inevitably irritated when she’s not around these days. In starkcontrast, the world feels better somehow. Brighter and kinder when she’saround, humming as she fetches and returns his books.

They’veonly just finished arguing about something ridiculous. He can’t even rememberwhat had set them off, but by the time they’re finished, he’s gripping the armsof his wheelchair so hard that his knuckles are pale, and he’s panting. “Do youpiss off all your charges like this or am I just especially fun?”

Shefixes him with a hard look. “Shut up. Your voice makes me want to kiss you, andfailing that, it makes me want to smack you with the heaviest book I can findin here.”

Theystare at each other for a moment. Then, before he knows it, he’s laughing sohard tears are streaming down his face – and she’s laughing too. Seconds later,she’s kneeling on the floor by his chair, and he’s reaching for her, lipscrashing together as they laugh and cry in turn. They embrace. The world brightensagain.

It’sprimal instinct – it has to be, because how else can he explain the way hisheart is beating so fast he can hardly breathe? She has a pull about her, andhe both loves and hates the way she can twist him into knots. All it takes is atouch of the hand, feather-light upon his skin, fingertips tracing thesensitive areas behind his ears. She straddles him, both knees digging deepinto their mattress. His mother is just next door, and further down thecorridor in their Scosglen home, both his brothers will have retired for thenight.

Heflips his new wife over onto her back, and grins as she lets out a yelp ofsurprise. “I want you.” He growls into her ear, and feels her shiver beneathhim. “But let’s try to keep the screaming to a minimum tonight.”

“Areyou ready for Peru?” Sagen jogs up to their designated meeting spot – a smallclearing in the woods some kilometres from her base. It’s past dinner time andthe sky has long darkened. They’re on civilian territory. No one will thinkanything of their presence.

Shegreets him with a light kiss, then holds up a syringe. “Just about. But I needa booster, and if I ask the boys back at base they’ll wonder why.”

Heraises a brow, then laughs. “You sure you wanna do this here?”

“Sure.”She hands him the syringe before dropping her pants, relishing in the way hiseyes shift, his lips curled in an amused sort of smile. “It’s not like youhaven’t poked me with pointy things in the woods before.”

Sagengets down on his knees, and she inhales sharply as his breath warms against hernavel. He grabs her hip, holding her steady, then lands several soft kissesupon her skin, down the front of her thigh. “Don’t tense up now.” His voice isteasing, and as she reaches out to slip her hands in his hair, he sinks theneedle in.

“Despiteall your shouting tendencies.” He plucks the strings of his harp, the melodyflowing easily off his tongue. “I’ve been in love with you for centuries.”

It’smeant to be a fun little song. A play on words. But when Chryse throws herselfat him, laughing, he knows he’s done something right. “That’s terrible.” Shegiggles softly, arms wrapped about his shoulders. A pause, then he feels herlips on his cheek. “But I love you too.”

Hehas to give it to the bastard – Four is resilient. The piece of shit is brokenup on all fronts, physically, emotionally, and mentally, but he still has thegall to glare at them as they enter the tent where he is being held. He mouthsoff – of course he does, and it takes everything in his power to hold back hisfist and not just punch his other eye out.

“Shutthe hell up,” He growls. Marclai hands him a water skin and he takes pleasurein watching Four fail to resist as he forces the liquid down his throat. “Andjust drink the goddamn water.”

He’snot clever like papa, and he isn’t strong like mama. He’s afraid for his lifeand the life of his family. Grandmam helps him through the darkest hours, butwhen she’s teaching with Auntie Chryse and he’s home with only Theone and hiscousins for company, he’s terrified. When he closes his eyes, he sees thedemons. The monsters who’ve threatened them all – the monsters to come. He seesDeath.

Oneday, he wakes screaming and there Theone is, wide-eyed, shocked, but holdingonto him, fingers clutching his shoulders as if her life depended on it. “I’msorry!” He gasps, because tears are a sign of weakness, and Theone is thestrongest person he knows. “I’m sorry, I had a nightmare.”

Shesqueezes him tightly, pressing a fierce kiss to his head. “Don’t be afraid,baby brother. I’ll protect you.”

Hesniffles against her chest, his voice coming out shaky. “Are you ashamed ofme?”

Theonegrowls. “Never.”

Hefinds her sitting up in bed, blonde curls piled atop her head with a fewstraggly strands framing her face. In stark contrast to the other times before,she’s silent, her face an impenetrable mask. They’d taken the bloody mess fromthe room earlier, and he’d seen to it that the remains had been taken care of,gently wrapped and placed in a little wooden box. Tomorrow, they will returntheir baby to the earth, to rest alongside the girl and boy from before.

She’sstill staring into blank space when he sits and takes her into his arms,pressing his face into the side of her head. “Lars?”

Hiswife doesn’t say anything. He knows what she’s thinking – he’s always known.Guilt. Desperation. Helplessness. An ache as old as time itself. The fire inthe hearth offers its condolences, and he can feel Averard’s presence justoutside the window. The wind howls. Howalone she must feel, he thinks, even as his friends whisper outside. But she isn’t really alone, is she?

“Let’srun away.” He kisses her shoulder gently. “We’ll have one another. We’ll haveAverard. And Sanctuary.” Let me show you– let us show you that the road doesn’t end here.

She’s all alone whenshe opens her eyes. Everything hurts, and she flinches when she opens her eyesto find sunlight streaming in through the cracks in the window. A soft whimperescapes her – she manages to turn, and is immediately greeted by the sight of acasket on the opposite end of the room.Oh, gods. Is that Strahan, or is that Lear? Or are the both of them dead?

She starts tohyperventilate. Vials and cups crash to the ground as she stumbles out of bed,sweeping through the things on her bedside table. She lands on the wooden floorwith a loud thump, tangled up in sheets, trembling. When she presses a hand toher side, her palm comes away bloody. She crawls towards the casket, and getshalfway through before the door opens and Lear rushes in. “Anarei, what—”

Somehow, she managesto hold back the tears. His words from long ago resound in her head. I don’t want to see that face on you,alright? He helps her back into bed, and she clutches the bloodstainedsheets to her chest, too afraid to even look at him. It’s Strahan in there. My brother’s dead. She shuts her eyes andbites back a sob, and that’s when Lear pulls her in, laying a hand upon hercheek. “It’s okay. We all cry sometimes.”

He’s exhausted. Hehasn’t slept in days, but there’s so much work to be done. They’d lit the pyresnot two hours ago, when the sun had started to sink into the horizon. In allthe time he’s known Amaethon, he’s never seen the man this distraught. Thatwas his baby sister, after all.

The manor is deathlyquiet. Laori is curled up on the steps with Celandine, whose other side isflanked by her husband. Inside the house, he knows Amaethon will be holed away,too busy blaming himself for what had happened. Miharah will most likely bewrapped up in the embrace of her parents, along with the rest of her family.It’s Serrah who needs his attention now.

He finds his youngapprentice in her room. She glances up as he sits by her side on the bed. Heknows she’s expecting to be sent away - and if he’s honest with himself, it’swhat he’d want, too. But that’s not the promise he had made, and it’s not theway to protect the young girl. He’s grappled with the decision, and though hedoesn’t like the conclusion he’s arrived at, he knows it’s necessary. “Are youokay?”

“Sure.” It’s a suddensort of greeting. She probably thinks I’m sending her away.

He lets out a sigh.“I’ve asked Laori and Theone to join our training sessions. They’re going to begiving you a taste of brute force and destructive magic. We’re going to startat dawn tomorrow, and we’ll continue to do so until you’ve learnt everythingyou can from them. Then I’ll find someone new to join us, and we’ll startagain. When we aren’t training, we’ll be going on missions with the Horadrim -real missions, so I need you to visit the armoury tomorrow evening and see whatthey can do about getting you a better set of armour. Do you understand?”

The young girlfinally looks up at him, and he smiles at the sight of her wide eyes, surprisein her gaze. When she speaks, her voice is oddly affected. “Can I hug you?”

“Seriously,again?” Mother wipes the blood from his hands – a boy’s hands, no bigger. Hervoice is strained as she checks for deeper wounds that might require stitches.He’s been at it all day, trying to repair the closest Horadrim waypoint. Itlies in the ruins of Harrogath. He’d snuck there before dawn. Aislinn had toldhim that the waypoints had once been magic – magic enough to transport manthrough time and space. “Taranis, father’s dead. You have to accept that,okay?”

“Youbroke into my house?” She stares aghast at the shirtless man lying in her bed.It’s been a couple of weeks since they’d last met, and she hadn’t beenexpecting him. Not that it isn’t a pleasant surprise. “You wanna tell me whyyou’re naked in my bed?”

“I’mnot naked, but I can be.” He winks ather. “Come on, tell me you aren’t pleased to see me.”

Sheis, and he damn well knows it, the cocky bastard. Still, he hasn’t just turnedup in her apartment like this before, and there’s an edge of desperation in hisface that’s foreign to her, so she kicks off her shoes, strips down to herunderwear, and climbs into bed. She holds him close, and they lay together – atpeace, content to simply be.

The ginger-haired boyis standing guard below the apothecary’s tower - for what reason, Strahandoesn’t really know. He’s seen the boy around the Naveau house - he’s friendswith the girls. You should get to know them, Madam had said, one cool,but gentle hand upon his head. They’re going to be your family too.

He makes his way overto the ginger-haired boy; he’s older and much bigger, and glowers as Strahanapproaches. “What do you want?”

“I’m here to see theapothecary.” He tries for nonchalance, but the ginger-haired boy is a littlescary. “Madam Lisanne.”

The ginger-haired boyrelaxes slightly. “Madam Lisanne isn’t home. It’s only her daughter up there,so you can come back later.”

“I heard Miss Deiadraknows her way around her mother’s work also.” He perks up, but is instantlysilenced as the ginger-haired boy glowers again. “…I’ll come back later.”

Thenight is winding down, but the newlyweds are still dancing at the centre of thetown hall. Tonight, it is decked in beautiful fabrics, fresh flowers and plentyof candles that have burnt low – to celebrate the couple, and to spite the war.Heulan and Ora have disappeared into one of the balconies facing the east, nodoubt to cuddle, laugh, and sway together to the soft, sweet music.

It’sbeen weeks since she’d confessed her feelings. Things have gone on as before –casual bantering, the occasional private lunch and library visit taking up theafternoons they’re both free from work. He hasn’t brought up their talk again,so she assumes the worst and decides he isn’t interested.

Sheputs on a pretty dress – a flowing silver gown that shows off her shoulders andwaist. She laughs with the bride and dances with her friends. A Keep Lieutenantkisses her knuckles, and she agrees to meet up with him for dinner later in theweek. It’s war, but we’ve got to findtime for the little pleasures after all.

Threehours later, she’s about ready to go home; there are potions to be experimentedwith and notes to make. But the sight of Lochi and Chryse swaying togetherstops her, and she stays, if only for a few minutes, to watch them, hugging hercloak to her chest. Lochi’s unseeing eyes are wide open in wonder, and Chryseis smiling, her own golden gaze affixed upon them.

“Theylook happy, don’t they?” Lear sidles up beside her, and she feels her hearttwitch. She thinks she’s gotten better at it over the weeks, but she’d be lyingif she said it didn’t sting to be beside him, surrounded by other happy twos.

Still,she’s trying, so she slants a smile at him and nods. “Yeah. They all do.”

“Areyou heading back? Need me to walk you?” He glances at the cloak currentlydraped over her arm.

“No.”She jerks her head towards the bride. “It’s your sister’s wedding, you shouldstay.”

“Dancewith me, then. Just one dance.” He smiles at her, his singular eye softening.“Come on, you’ve danced with everyone else.”

Exasperationmingles with mild amusement. She rolls her eyes, quirking a smile, but allowshim to take her cloak and drape it over a nearby chair. “Are you using me toavoid having to dance with the other girls?”

“No.”He leads her out to an unoccupied corner, laying her hand over his shoulder andtaking the other. He pauses as he looks at her, his smile deepening a bit. “Youlook really nice tonight.”

“Thanks.”She forces herself to look at his face. Everything’sfine. I’m fine, he’s fine, we’re all fine. “So do you.”

Theysway a little to the music, and she allows herself to relax. She’s had somewine, so her feet feel just a little lighter. Her pulse steadies after a while,and she lets out a contented sigh.

“Istill don’t really understand.” His voice is soft, and jerks her from thecomfortable silence. She meets his eye, tilting her head a bit. “What you saidthe other day, about how you feel. I haven’t forgotten, I’m just trying tofigure it out. Why you feel that way.”

Shefrowns, then looks down, the sudden revival of the topic taking her bysurprise. It takes a while, but she manages an answer. “It’s a lot of things.”

“Tryme.”

Partof her wants to run. She’s spoken up first so many times now. In contrast, hehasn’t given her much to go on – and she’d been doing well, too. Opening thecan of worms again doesn’t feel like a good idea. Still, she reasons, it isn’tlike she has anything else to lose.

Shelooks down at the floor, careful to keep their steps in sync. “I love yoursardonic sarcasm.” The words flow easily. “I love the way you take your tea,and how pedantic you are about steeping – exactly five minutes with boilingwater. I hate the way you roll your eyes when you think someone is being stupid– even more so when it’s directed at me. I hate when you run off by yourself,but I love that you stick to your plans and principles. I hate that you can’tsee what I see in you – a man who’s always trying his best. And I hate that Idon’t know how you feel about me, and that despite that, I’m here, again,telling you I love you.”

Shedoesn’t expect him to say anything in return, so it takes her by surprise whenhe does. Her breath catches, and she almost misses her step, but he’s a goodleader, and she manages to keep up. “I love the way you wrinkle your nose whenyou’re irritated.” He lets out a thoughtful hmm before continuing. “I love theway your eyes light up when you’re surprised – like they’re lighting up rightnow. I love the way you get excited when something bubbles the right way, orwhen you get a good patient that teaches you something. I hate that you’re sostubbornly blind to people’s faults sometimes, and that you care so much evenwhen it hurts you. I hate that you’re impatient and demanding, but I love thatyou know exactly what you want.”

“Oh.”She glances aside. Chryse is watching them from the centre of the room, a smilecurling deviously upon her lips.

“That’sall I have for you right now.” Lear shifts the hand upon her waist, placing itupon her shoulder, his finger barely brushing the raised scar on her neck. “Iknow it’s not what you wanted to hear, but I hope it’s enough.”

Themusic fades. She swallows, then wets her lips before looking up. His meaningcannot be any more clear. I need moretime. She lets out a sigh; inside, her resolve crumbles. “I hate that youhave this effect on me.” It’s not a difficult thing to admit; he more thanlikely already realises.

Hissmile is soft and a little grateful as he pulls her close to press a kiss toher forehead. It’s gentle, and it makes her tremble. “One step at a time. We’llfigure us out together, okay?”

And what if youdecide you don’t want this after all? She shuts hereyes, leaning into his chest. Shit. “Cometest some potions with me tomorrow.”

Hechuckles lightly. “Just don’t paralyse me this time.”

“Youdid what now?” It’s not uncommon for them to test their potions on themselves,but this one was dangerous. The wrong dose could’ve led to her sleepingforever, with no hope for reversal. That’s part of why she hates developingsleeping potions and their antidotes – the lack of willing test subjects. “Youcan’t be serious.”

Naveaushrugs a shoulder. “It worked. I had Ailey administer the antidote for reversalsix hours later. I’m alive, so it obviously works with no side effects exceptinitial grogginess and a bit of mild disorientation. Could be good forsurgery.”

“Youonly know it puts you to sleep, Naveau. You’ve no idea if it will keep apatient pain-free throughout potentially traumatic surgeries.”

Theyoung woman smiles, part sheepish and part smug. “I actually do know. But I’mnot opposed to a little more experimentation.”

“Fore.” He sighs.“You really are a piece of shit.”

It had started outinnocently enough. He’d made an offhand comment over Family Dinner, about Learenjoying chicken a little bit too much - it was a running gag, after all. Thathad launched a series of questions about Lear’s obsession with the bird, andhe’d been obliged to apologise to the grouchy man-child later. He hadn’texpected to come home to this.

His kitchencountertops are filled with raw chickens, plucked, cleaned, marinated, andpropped up on roasting trays. He counts at least twenty. When he opens up hisfridge, another bird falls out - this one bagged. The shelves within tell thesame fowl story.

The bastard answershis phone with a smirk in his voice. “What’s up?”

“When the fuck didyou have time to marinate fifty chickens and break into my house?”

“Oh, come on. We justdidn’t want you to go hungry, and Vanessa will thank you for doing all thecooking.”

He scowls.“Sometimes, I really wonder why my sister fell for you.”

Lear lets out a barkof a laugh on the other end. “I guess opposites really do attract.”

Shefinds Ananke sitting by the steps of Harrogath’s ruins, face covered in soot, asmall bag packed for the journey back to Kehjistan. They’ve become fast friendsover the past months, two pregnant women with tragedy on their heels. And yetonly one of them has become a mother.

It’snot love she sees in the woman’s eyes – it’s guilt and terror, tinged almostwith madness. “I’ve failed you,” Ananke whispers. “You deserve to hate me. Goon – say it. Tell me you hate me.”

“No.”Estarra frowns, settling on the steps by her friend. She’s seen their future. My last words to you cannot be words ofhate. “I love you, Ananke. I love you like a sister.” She holds the womanclose, shutting her eyes. “Keep your little one safe.”

She has to admit he’snot too bad. They’d gone on a good few dates - quick, casual breakfasts beforework, packed lunches at the park beside the hospital, and the occasional dressydinner at her favourite restaurant when they’re both off and able to enjoy abottle of red.

They’re at his place,toes tucked into a woollen throw under his coffee table, screaming at oneanother with remotes in their hands. His hero lands an attack and she lets outan irritated scream, kicking him in the shin. “Damn it, Hayes!”

“I dare you to killme.” He sneaks a kiss, and she laughs as his breath warms her neck. “Go on, doit. If you beat me, I’ll do anything you want later.”

He’s gone off on hisown again. This time, leaving word only for Taranis – a three-sentence note:Gone to fight Cydaea. Stay clear of the crater. Back in three days.

She doesn’t reactwhen the news breaks. She stands there beside Chryse and listens as Taranis explainswhy Lear’s left her – again. Then she nods, thanks the man, and goes back toher work, stony expression and stiff upper lip barely detracting from the factthat her hands are shaking. She can hardly breathe, but she has to focus. Focus,damn it.

“He’ll be back, don’tworry.” Chryse looks like she wants to punch something.

“Please.” She barelygets the words out as she turns away. “I just want to be alone.”

She thinks of themoften - the little boy and girl from her old life, her young master andmistress. It’s been years and years, and she hopes they have grown well in herabsence. In her dreams, they cry while their Lord Father shouts. She tries toopen her mouth - to speak up for them, but it never happens, and she wakesknowing she’s failed them both. I’m only a housekeeper, she’d said then.But the words are always bitter in her mouth.

It’d never occurredto her that she would be back in this place of uncertainty. How am I goingto do this? She doesn’t know, but the Matriarch hands her the squirmingtoddler, all pudgy and cheeky smiles, and she feels her heart melt.

“You will care forhim. Naled will help you. Don’t waste your second chance.”

“Allthis time, I wanted her for my wife. But a sixteen-year-old can’t possibly knowwhat that means, right?” He’s never talked back to his mother before. The yearshave changed his mind, however, and he’s grateful for it. His mother isobviously taken aback by the sudden outburst. But he doesn’t care – he’sthrough being her puppet. “I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me, mother, Ireally am. I do love you. But I’m not a dog you can pick up to fulfil somegrand destiny; I’m not even Medjai. All this time, I thought I wanted her, butit was you. You wanted her for me.And I will never let you play with my mind like that again.”

He’sbeen in a bad mood all day, scribbling furiously into a large tome and crossingout whole segments in sheets of paper, so it’s no surprise he’s grouchy atdinner. “Ugh, Tychol, you must really be deprived if an almanac can get you soworked up.”

“It’sall your boyfriend’s fault!” Her little brother scowls across the table at her,evidently still agitated over the writing. Tyrael had tasked him to work withLorath to compile everything they knew about the angelic host currentlyoccupying Westmarch and Khanduras – it isn’t going too well. “Can you pick asmarter one next time?”

“He’snot my boyfriend.” She flips her hair airily, reaching for the potatoes whileLars snickers into her soup. “Shut up, Lars.”

Tycholrolls his eyes. “Sure, Theone.”

Shepicks her fork out of her bowl and points it at him, hoping she isn’t blushing.“I can kick your ass, you know that? I can kick ALL your asses!”

Shedidn’t think it would hurt this much, but it felt about as good as a slapacross the face. The night before, in the midst of an argument with Taranis,their eldest son had stood to proclaim that they weren’t even blood. You’re not my real parents, he’d yelled.I don’t have to listen to you.

Arlaisis sitting at the breakfast table on his own, face in his hands, when shedescends. Taranis had left before dawn, mumbling something about smashing someboulders. Laori and Iliev were most likely hiding in the Naveau house, and Ioanhad never been one to actively participate in family feuds. It’s just her andher eldest now, and she wants him to know what she thinks of his words.

“Thosethings you said yesterday.” She sits down beside him, folding her hands overher lap. It’s hard to keep her voice level. “Did you mean them?”

Helooks up at her, and his eyes are filled with tears. There are no words. Shelets out a sigh, understanding. He doesn’t resist, so she reaches out to hughim. It isn’t until minutes later that he finally speaks, his voice a faintpeep – not unlike the little boy she had once known. “You are my mother.”

Thelast thing she’d expected when she’d paged Hayes was for him to show up half inthe bottle. “What the fuck, Jamie?” She doesn’t get pissed off often, but whena mom loses her shit and attacks her husband and one-year-old with boilingwater, it helps to have a sober Plastics attending on hand.

“I’mnot promise, I drunk. And ‘m not on call.” He slurs as he struggles with theties of his plastic pullover. “Who’s the doctor?”

Sheshoves him into a room and imagines herself stabbing him with the IV drip. “Getyour shit together. I’m calling Lewis.”

Hewakes to her sniffling in bed, and realises she’s caught the chill he’s beenbattling the entire week. She insists on getting up to do some work, but hestops her and rolls out of bed himself, groggy and exhausted, but determined.Over the next few hours, he labours in the kitchen, making a huge pot ofchicken soup and stepping out just long enough to pick up some hearty, crustydark bread. Then he goes home, sets up a tray on her side of the bed, and curlsback up against his wife. “Stay in bed with me,” He mumbles.

“Goback to base, will you?” Lorcan’s voice is steely as he pulls her from herfather’s body. The battle is coming to a close around them, with the last oftoday’s demon force charged down by the hunters’ horseback unit. She doesn’tsee any of it – all she sees is the cold, dead face of the man who’d raisedher. Lorcan is shouting again, this time loudly enough to snap her back intothe present. Hot tears streak down her face. “Ethinacae! You’re done here. GOHOME.”

She’srunning out of money and wondering what to do to earn more when he pops up inher peripheral again. When he approaches, she tilts her head back and does herbest to look threatening. She doesn’t know if she can take him – he’s muchstronger and older, and she’s only a skinny fourteen-year-old.

“Youshould go home, girl.” His voice is gruff, but not unkind.

“Idon’t have a home.” She looks at her feet. “Please leave me alone.”

It’s been hours sinceMaika had fallen asleep on Silene’s chest, the little girl curled up againsthis girlfriend. Silene strokes the girl’s soft dark hair gently, and he watchesthe pair of them for a moment, wondering how he could possibly live withouteither one of them.

The scans aren’tencouraging. He’d read and re-read them, then he’d sent Parts a copy with aspecial request - a cry for help. He knows his old friend will not refuse him,and he has faith in medicine and in science. He has faith in Parts.

What he lacks isfaith in himself. When Silene looks up at him, he goes to her and lays down onthe other side of her bed, taking her into his arms. She lets out a soft,relieved sigh. He knows it hurts her. He knows that’s why she’d signed the DNR- she’s tired. He can’t blame her, but he wants to keep fighting for her. Heneeds to.

She takes his hand.He squeezes it lightly. “I’m terrified of losing you.”

SIlene turns her faceinto his chest. “I know.”

She’s beautiful. Longblonde hair flows to her waist, flowers and vines braided in amidst ribbons.His bride is radiant - how could she be anything else but the sun, aftereverything she’s done for him?

She takes his handsand they stand before the priest, tall among friends and family. “I can’t giveyou forever,” She says. “But all my days on this Sanctuary are yours.”

Celis busy icing a cake in the kitchen when she makes her way in and flops down ona chair. Training is going nowhere, and she’s both exhausted and frustrated.But Cel is patient and sweet as always, and hands her a slice of warm bananabread still fresh from the oven. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Sheslumps over the plate, poking at the cake with her fork. It doesn’t happenoften, but she doesn’t have much of an appetite right now. “I don’t know how tobe useful to my father in his old age, and I think I’m going to commitfratricide at some point.”

He’s been working ona speech for Ceth’s wedding for weeks now, and yet all the words seem soinsufficient. Lars drags him out to the river and meditates while he struggleswith paper and ink. By the time she’s done, it’s an hour later and he’ssurrounded by crumpled-up scraps. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say you lovehim, but he’s officially dragged away Virkove’s best pastry maker and should beashamed of himself.” Lars flops down beside him and stretches out.

“I can’t say that!”He cries, horrified. “He’d feel so bad for it!”

She grins, a littleslyly. “On the flipside, that means they’d come back here more often to makesure we get all the pastries we need.”

Hehasn’t even planned out the entirety of his trip, but his heart already hurtsat the thought of leaving his daughter behind. She runs into his arms, and heholds her close, laughing as she prattles on about ginger buds and basilflowers. How can I not miss you,sweetheart?

There’sa veil, barely there, like water or air – she doesn’t know, but Heulan isbehind there, and it’s all she can do to hold back from throwing herself athim. The gods are merciful. Surely they can raise the dead. They’ve brought him back. She pushesaway the thought of his body, lying inert in the crystal arch. Cold. Unmoving.“I thought you were dead. Thank the gods you’re safe.”

Hisface crumples, and she realises then that the veil is there to stay. Auriellands gently beside her, and parts the veil – if only for a brief moment. WhenHeulan holds his hand out to her, her fingers sweep right through his. “I’msorry, Ora.”

“Didyou enjoy yourself last night?” Roethlis glances up as his brother walks in.Roman is uncharacteristically chirpy for breakfast-time. He knows it’s becausehe’s been in the dungeons – it’s hard to miss the conceited strut of a goodfucking.

Romanlaughs heartily, clapping him on the shoulder. “You should go for a roundsometime. That frigid bitch – I’ll warm her up yet.” The man actually sounds proud, he realises with disgust. “Ican’t wait to hear her beg for that deadbeat boyfriend again.”

Theadrenaline surges. He’s exhausted and hasn’t slept in hours, but he’s so damnexcited. Azmodan’s consort leers at him just below the steps. The plan is infull swing. She ends today. You’re mine.

It’s been a weeksince the Virkovian forces had started mobilising and moving to the Keep to theEast. Most of the soldiers have settled in by now, and by the end of the day,the stragglers will have brought up the rear. Down at the docks, crates ofmedical supplies are being loaded into the ferry. She’s checking through themand ticking off her list when Taranis and Lear approach, packed and armoured,apparently ready to go.

Taranis gives her aquick hug before disappearing to help with the loading. She hands off her listto her assistant, then turns towards Lear, managing a faint smile. It’s notforever - it’s not even a separation. He’s just two hours away, and she’ll seehim often enough on her weekly visits with the Keep apothecary. Maybe when the war ends, we can be together.Maybe when this is all over, we can love one another in peace.

Still, she’s gottenused to sharing spaces with him, and it’s not a parting she’s looking forwardto. But there’s more work to be done, and she knows he’s in full-focus mode, soshe tries to be brief. “For good luck.” She straightens, and finding noresistance, presses a light kiss to his scarred cheek. She keeps it friendly.Unaffected and casual. Somewhere in the ferry, she hears Taranis bellow,evidently exasperated, “Just kiss already. We have to go.”

Lear spares theCaptain a look, but smiles when he turns back to her. His arms envelop hereasily as he kisses her on the forehead. “Stay out of trouble.”

It’sdark out and she’s terrified. Everywhere she turns, branches and twigs snap,and the fluttering of birds taking flight raises hairs on the nape of her neck.She’s not sure how long it’s been since she’d split ways from the party, but ifthey’re looking for her, they’re doing a terrible job. When she’s finallyexhausted herself walking, she sits, and stares at her feet. Somewhere in thetrees are surely wild animals who would want nothing more than little girl fordinner.

Don’t cry,she tells herself. Warriors never cry. She sings softly to herself, and themusic makes her feel a little bit better. But when the little orange-crestedrobin lands on the ground before her, she lets out a gasp, surprised, and backsaway. “Oh, it’s you.” She recognises the sweet little creature – he’s friendswith Mae, she thinks. “Are you lost too?”

Halfa minute later, her father crashes through the bushes, ginger hair in disarrayand eyes wide in panic. “Lars, thank the gods. I was so worried!”

Sheburies her face in his shoulder as he wraps his thick, strong arms around her,and barely gets out the words – “I was afraid you left me.”

Helaughs, sounding a little choked up as he squeezes her and kisses her head. “Don’tbe silly.” His kisses always make her feel better, and she’s happy to curl upagainst his chest. The little robin flits up and settles upon her shoulder.“I’ll never leave you, alright? But try not to wander off like this again.”

Shecleans her father’s body and Lorcan helps her change him. When they’re done andshe’s alone at last, she touches the old man’s grey, lined face. Nolan Winthallis not a handsome man, but he’s the father she knows. She struggles to come upwith the words, and not a single one is sufficient to convey the depth of herguilt and regret. “I should’ve stayed with home, with you,” She whispers. “Ishould have spent more time with you.”

She’dbeen unconscious for the better part of a week, so he’s pleasantly surprised tofind her awake when he drops in for a visit. Her colour is better and he’s toldshe’s eating now. She looks up when heenters; he sits down and presses a kiss to her temple. “Good to see you’rebetter.”

“Hm.”She sighs, then slumps back into her pillows. The explosions had taken outseveral other field healers, and he knows she’s still shaken up about losingher assistant in the ensuing aftermath. He has to hand it to Azmodan – thebastard knows exactly what to do to push the fight in his favour. With most ofthe Virkovian militia stationed at the Keep, he’d mounted an assault from theWestern front instead, sending in his demons and catapults on ships under theshroud of the evening fog. Despite the losses, they’d somehow beaten the host, andVirkove continues to stand.

Herhair’s shorter, sheared off at the shoulders. It suits her. He flicks a flyawaycurl lightly, watching as it bounces off her cheek. “What happened here?”

“Toohard to untangle, after.” She shrugs a shoulder, seemingly unconcerned. Once,she might have been troubled, but it’s obvious she understands. The world isdifferent now, and so are her priorities. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Tyraelhad sent him out to scout the forests surrounding the city; there had been newsof some trouble with the thieves’ guild. With the local militia kept occupiedwith the rebuilding and final scouring of the city, the task had fallen to theHoradrim – or, apparently, the Horadrim’s allies. There’s laughter ringing inthe muggy air, and he frowns for a moment, confused. Amaethon and Laori aresplashing around in a pool; Amaethon spots him first, and stands, greeting himeagerly and throwing both hands in the air. “Niall! Take your shirt off and comejoin us – the water’s nice and cool today!”

He’shaving trouble thinking properly. The two are apparently naked, and completelyat ease. Laori glances back over her bare shoulder, bright-eyed and beaming.“Yeah, Niall! Come on in. The deal is nobody looks and tackling is free game.”

Helets out a chuckle he hopes isn’t too awkward. “Maybe next time.”

Thereare demons hot on their tail, and the others in their party have longdisappeared into the trees. Naix has his bow drawn, but she wonders how hewould fare in closer quarters. The winged, horned demons charge in at themthrough the underbrush. She lets out a breath and readies herself. “We’re goingto die.”

“Yeah.”Naix’s voice is clipped and terse. “We’re pretty much fucked.”

Theone’sface says it all – she’s pleased with herself, her smug smile utterlyreminiscent of Uncle Lear’s when he knows he’s won a fight. He doesn’t get it,though – she’d helped him out after all, and they’d disposed of the Evil Treesmuch faster with two as opposed to one. “Thanks for helping me out!”

Shelooks annoyed at that and he can’t figure out why; but there’s more adventuringto be done, and now he has plenty of time to do it.

It’s a sunny Summer’sday, and the family comes together again. Innocence and joy abound in thememories they’d shared, untainted by the horrors of the past years. Now thatthe war is over, they’re glad to laugh over barbeques, ice-cold beers on handand wine for the uppity likes of his sister and her new husband. Hans sits byhis side on the lawn, bouncing Maika off his lap.

They’re talking abouttheir first meeting. Hans had only just been adopted, a young, gangly boy - thechild of Mother’s deceased best friend. “I thought you hated me,” He grins.

Strahan snickers,then blows a raspberry into his daughter’s cheek. “I did,” He confesses. “Butif it makes you feel any better, I got over it real quick.”

“Aww.” He ruffles hisbrother’s slick dark hair. “I love you too, Hans.”

Thehairs on the base of her neck prickle as they descend, deeper and deeper intothe heart of Arreat. He’s taunted them the entire time; Ora is damned neargreen with terror and Heulan is all focus. Azmodan’s voice echoes in her head.

Ahh, how sweet ofthe little rat, to send a replacement for my murdered consort in the form ofhis own lover. Are you a virgin, sweet creature? How do you like it? I willshow you a better lover, one who will adore you. I won’t abandon you like he’sdone so many times. You will be my queen. And when I have won your heart andbody, you will sit by my side – and we will laugh together as I slay that foulbastard for all he has taken from me. For all the hurt he has caused you.Wouldn’t you like that?

Shegrits her teeth, her fingers tightening about the hilt of her sword. Taranisglances aside at her, and she shakes her head at him. Azmodan’s voice piercesher mind yet again, and she flinches.Don’t fear me, sweet creature. I won’t let you die. You’ll learn to love mycock soon enough. And if you struggle – well. I’m sure I’ll find a way to havefun with that, too.

Shewill soon be gone from the world – her body is tired and failing, but theregret remains. Karalir sits at the base of her bed, a dutiful son to the end.Still, she knows it’s not her he wants. It’s never been her. He’s his father’sson, after all. She loves him nonetheless. “I wish you could love me.” Thewords are softly whispered. “I know there’s nothing I can say to change yourmind, but I do love you, Karalir.”

If you love her,you gotta tell her, Grampa had said. He’s afraid ofrejection, but he knows ma and pa are watching from above, cheering him on. Andmore than that, he knows Cel’s been waiting for him – because when love isstaring you in the face, you know. He takes a deep breath, clenching his fists,then pushes through the back door of the Naveau house and strides in.

Celgreets him with a bright smile as always, and shoves a cookie into his mouth.“Hi, Ceth! You got here early.”

Hechews quickly and swallows – the cookie’s made his mouth dry, but he can’t helpit. He has to tell her before he loses his nerve. It’s a terrible confession,all warbling and nervous, and by the time he’s done, he swears it’s the firsttime he wishes he hadn’t had a cookie at all. “S-say something.” He looks atthe girl – the pretty one with auburn hair, the one he’s loved forever, for herkindness and sweet nature, for everything she represents and everything she is.“What do you think, Cel?”

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