ruinations | adsom: reunions

For a long moment, he stared into her eyes, weighing what she said with them as well as her voice, steady as steel. Finally, he seemed to come to a conclusion, nodding to himself.

"I cannot let you into the palace on your word," he said carefully, but not unkindly, "but if you will consent to wait in the London Sanctuary, I will send for your friend."

With a hand, he gestured behind him, through the gates, toward the Isle with the glimmering red river.

She tried to remember everything Kell said about home. Tried to remember if he told her they were unkind or if they were just as likely to shackle people. Nothing came. But she felt as if she was staring at the mouth of Aallotar again, playing games with her own safety.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to the gates. She considered what he offered. Softly, she said, "I would not ask for you to take me into the palace, sir. That wouldn't be right."

Once, she asked for Kell to be sent for. She had been mocked and sneered at, told that she was not worth his time. That was in another world. She hoped this guard would at least understand she wasn't trying to cause trouble. "Tell him that I gave him a bead and a necklace once. I did not ask for them back. He will know who I am." At length, she lifted her head, tried to hold it high. "I will wait wherever you ask me to, even if only to be told to leave and not to come back. I will comply."

Again, what she said seemed to surprise him, and this time, instead of asking more questions, he dipped his head forward.

Gesturing that she come with him, he approached another of the guards, had a few words, and the other man produced a small scroll tied with a red silk ribbon. He turned to present it to her, unrolled it to show the contents.

Inside, there was a map of the city -- clearly made up to assist visitors. Many destinations were marked and labeled, especially inns, markets, various amenities, and local tourist destinations. As she looked at the map, the lettering swirled magically, arranging themselves into letters and language familiar with her eyes.

With one strong finger, the guard pointed out a location nearby.

"The London Sanctuary is a safe place, My Lady- warded only against harm. So long as you mean none of your own, it will keep you. It is open to visitors."

He paused then, watching her eyes, committing her words to memory.

"Who should I get your message to?"

She took the unrolled scroll gingerly, her eyes scanning the contents of the map. The letters changed for her and there was a faint smile that worked its way onto her lips. The marvels magic could give when it was allowed to kindle in a world. Her thumbs brushed the corner of the parchment and then she rolled it back up. Her gaze lifted to the guard, past him, to where he was pointing.

Warded only against harm.

Slowly, she exhaled. She nodded. "I have no intention of causing trouble or harm, sir."

Neria watched him another moment, hesitating. Then, softly, her voice pitched low for him alone, she said, "Kell Maresh."

Though the guard's expression did not change, did not crack his professional mask of calm, his cheeks paled. He gave a slow nod.

"So I thought."

Though he did not sound particularly happy with this, he took it as a soldier would an order, and his lips moved soundlessly, something like a soft prayer.

"I will get your message to Master Kell quickly, Mas Aven," he promised. "Go."

A cold weight settled in her stomach. Kell had implied how his status as an Antari meant things...but this ran deeper. He looked at her almost in fear. Neria was still for a long moment, as if waiting for the tide to turn. For him to suddenly change his mind. But he instructed her to go and promised to take her message. It was all she could ask for.

"Thank you." With another bow, she left the guard and made her way to the sanctuary, the map clutched in her hands like a lifeline to stave off the uncertainty. Cassian whispered softly, attempting to reassure her, but it did not shake off the feeling that she'd disrupted a tenuous peace.

Neria took care when she went into the sanctuary, looking around for others, and allowing the dark to soften her steps as she went.

The London Sanctuary reflected its name, and she would be able to feel the wards as she stepped onto the grounds.

They were peaceful, covered in greenery and flowers, and white-robed scholars passed her in groups, chatting lightly to each other. Others herded gaggles of children in varying ages, some of which watched her with the brazen curiosity only the young could have.

Still others tended the plants, harvesting or encouraging others to grow, whispers of magic twining through the air like vines. It tickled gently against her skin. Simple, clean.

The main building of the ancient complex looked something like an echo of a Chantry, with many hallways branching off into wings that held classrooms, libraries, and workplaces.

Kell did not come immediately.

As she crossed the wards, she dismissed the dark. Godhood was not inherently the same as magic; still, she did not want to show disrespect to the place that had been offered to her in good faith. She roamed the grounds for a time, admiring the flowers and the scholars who worked there. In the dark, it was a beautiful place, and it was strangely comforting in ways she had not felt in many years, since she had been a young girl in the Circle's small chapel.

Magic was a rampant part of the world, the same as breathing. She took it in, idly sensed it, and let it brush against her skin. She did not respond to it, afraid how it would appear to the wards.

At length, she made her way into the main building but did not roam too far, knowing she stuck out among others. It was a place of safety and peace but she was still an outsider. Once more, she was an outworlder, and felt it keenly.

She took up residence in a corner, watching as light from the moon trickled in through the windows. Her eyes watched the children and she faintly smiled to see them. It steadied her, allowed her to let go of her caution in increments.

As the moon rose, the Sanctuary quieted, and though no one approached her, those children she smiled at smiled shyly back, some giggling to each other. Their sort thinned out dramatically as the night took up watch.

As a priest walked by, lowering the mage-lights, he gave her a searching look. When their eyes met he gave her a nod and moved on.

A few others sat at the benches, reading or studying, enjoying the quiet --

Until the moment it was broken by a brisk step, a shadow in front of her, and the scent of lilies. His breath caught, but it was the only sound he made.

As the evening progressed, she contemplated more than once the idea of standing and going to one of the libraries, seeking a book. She contented herself with studying the map of the city instead, learning the paths she'd taken and where she might need to go. She could give Kell until morning - he was probably out, she reasoned, though there was a nagging sense that perhaps he would not be ready to see her - before she moved on to an inn with the intent of gathering herself.

The number of people around dwindled. Some studied and read. The children eventually left. The mage lights dimmed. She settled back on the bench, allowing the dark to soothe her.

And then everything shifted. She saw the shadow fall across her, smelled lilies. Neria looked up, eyes wide as she caught sight of Kell, standing before her.

She did not move for several moments. Her heart thundered. There was a faint sound, an exhale. The world was still.

When she'd last reunited with Kell, the entire exchange had been difficult. Every movement had hurt, had made her feel small and weak and afraid. The fear had eroded away. Now, there was only relief. It was what coaxed her to her feet, the gesture fluid. "Kell," she whispered, and barely held herself back from grabbing him up.

"Neria."

His voice cracked at the edges, with relief and something more, something deeper, and like her, he only barely held himself back. The others in the quiet room had looked up, had spotted them and Kell's telltale red hair, so different from everyone Neria had seen in the city.

He wore the black coat she knew so well.

"Come with me? Please?" he asked, as if he thought for a moment that she wouldn't -- and held out both of his hands. His fingertips were smeared with ash-pale blood from a cut she could not see, likely up his sleeve.

Neria breathed in. Out. Blinked rapidly three times as if to ward off the burning in her eyes, despite knowing she would not cry. Could not. But the sudden clench around her heart was unmistakable, too much pressure, too much pain. And yet, she did not shy from it this time. Didn't buckle beneath the weight.

He remembered. And he came to her.

That was all she needed.

When Kell offered his hands, there was no hesitation. She reached out and took them. Her thumbs pressed into his fingers, even with the smear of blood, which she noted with a briefly concerned glance. "Yes," she whispered and nodded. "Of course."

Kell's fingers closed tightly over hers, squeezing as if he was making sure she wasn't an apparition, come to haunt him. He drew her a touch closer, holding on for a few more seconds before he took a breath, let one of her hands go to hold her by the other.

With quick steps, he led her to the back of the sanctuary, through a doorway. As they passed the priest bowed his head with a soft murmur.

"Mas Aven."

Kell did not pause, did not acknowledge it, and kept them moving. They twisted through hallways, leaving behind the more beautifully appointed rooms and many libraries, the public areas, to enter smaller chambers with unfinished wooden doors. Many were closed, but some opened to small, dorm-like rooms drawn with meditation circles on the floor, candles burning with soft, flickering light.

He drew her into one that looked like all the others, deep within the complex. It held a small, narrow cot, a meditation circle, a simple basin and cloth, and a single candle that showed no signs of melting wax.

"This room is mine," he explained, his voice low and not quite steady. "From the time I was a child. It stays open for me always. A sanctuary."

Kell shut the door behind them, lingering on the latch, and finally looked up.

This time, he did not hold himself back from reaching for her.

Real. Real and alive and... She wanted to say he was well. She did not know if that was true. Questions could come later.

Kell led her through several hallways, passing rows and rows of doors. Neria kept track of every step, some ingrained part of her insisting she would need to know how to get out, how to run if needed. A softer voice deep within reminded her she could go anywhere she needed to now, and need not fear a simple door closing behind her.

He brought her, at last, to a small room. Inside, it was plain and simple, and she cast a look around while he softly explained. His room. Open for him. A sanctuary. The tension unwound from her shoulders. This wasn't his room any longer; he had another in the palace. But this was where he lived, where he spent his days in safety. Neria reached out, touching the cot absently.

The door clicked shut. She turned back.

When he reached for her, she closed the gap. Neria threw her arms around him in a tight embrace, settling against his chest. Her fingers tightened in his coat. The only sound was a quiet exhale into his shoulder, where she'd buried her face. "Kell," she exhaled, the relief all the more palpable in her voice now.

Then sheets of the cot were soft but thin, basics but not over-comfortable, with a warm but simple blanket and no adornment. Like the rest of the room it was as simple as possible, a place meant for sleeping and meditation.

There were echoes here, ghosts of memories, and beneath the sheets there were old stains that discolored the mattress. A life's worth. Rhy's life's worth.

Kell exhaled sharply as she threw her arms around him, and then he was wrapping her up, squeezing her tightly to him, pressing his face into her hair and breathing her in. Time settled in that moment, and he held on.

Held on until they both could breathe again, though neither of them needed to.

His embrace was warm, as was he. Neria sank into his arms as she had not before, not even when she said goodbye before she left to Ardismouth, nor when they told each other of their worst moments. Clutching him close, she simply rested there with the knowledge that she was with him by some fluke of fate.

Asora was not far from her thoughts. But for this moment, she could simply be content like this.

Neria finally found her breath after a few minutes of that, just holding him. Her shoulders did not quiver; no tears fell from her eyes. Slowly, she was able to extricate her vise-like grip so she could pull herself up just long enough to look at him. She let go so she could reach with her hands, touching the sides of his face with them.

And with the solid contact, she smiled, a precarious thing that did not want to dream to hope. Yet--

"Hello," she whispered. This could be a dream for all she knew. At least it would be a good one. "It's good to see you."

Kell was the same. His hair was trimmed, he was clean-shaven again, but everything was as she'd seen him last, his eyes just as intent and serious, down to the way his habitual frown softened when she touched him.

He put his hands to the back of hers, eyes half-shut, soaking in the contact of one of the very few people who did touch him freely, the way he'd feared she never would again.

The relief was as much for this as it was to see her again at all.

"And you," he whispered back, and finally fully opened his eyes, looking into hers. There was a flicker there, a whisper of confusion before his hand left hers, fingertips brushing her cheek, below her eye.

"What happened?"

Edited 2018-04-01 05:58 (UTC)

In contrast, she looked as he did before he left: like she hadn't slept in days. The most stark difference was the color of her eyes, an intense, bright blue that burned and made even her more somber expressions seem more severe. The eyes seemed possessed of their own will, and they were predatory, even in her face.

But Neria's expression was soft on Kell, fond, as it had been before Aallotar. There was a sadness hidden there despite the sharp gaze, something held back even as she smiled at him. Briefly, she leaned into the brush of his fingers like an animal starved of affection.

Her expression faltered at his question, grew thoughtful.

"I... I don't know. It was an accident. If I'd known I could have simply found my way here--" Well, she'd have done it weeks ago, if she was honest with herself . "It's..." Neria's voice pitched low. "It's my godhood, Kell. I sank into the dark, moved through the layers of the world...and found myself here."

As unsettling as they eyes were, it was still Neria -- though he couldn't shake the feeling he'd seen that same blue somewhere else, far from here. It sent chills across his skin, but he pushed through it, rubbing his palm against her cheek, never making to pull back.

What she said, though, took him visibly aback, and knocked other questions from his mind. His blue eye flickered back and forth, jaw tight, immediately plunging into the far-reaching possibilities of what this could mean, the dangers this could pose.

This was Neria, but what else could come through?

"Why do you think it brought you here?"

It wasn't a question she expected. Worse, still, that she did not anticipate how much it hurt her. Kell did not hurt her; the memories the question drew up did. And Neria closed her eyes to it. There was a faint tremor in her hands.

"Because I wanted to be anywhere but there."

She hadn't been looking for Arnes. She had been looking for safety, for comfort. It made sense to her that the dark, which now bent to her whims and whispered at her call, would show her the way to someone who had always given her both of those things...even when she had been at her lowest. Everything else had been lost. But Kell-- Kell was untouched. He had escaped. She'd never thought, until this moment, that it might have been better if she took the door too.

"I...just wanted to get away. I'd gone into the dark before and escaped somewhere. Somewhere very deep and dark, where nothing else existed. But I...kept going, this time," she whispered. It made her sound as if she'd lost her mind, she realized.

It didn't. Not to Kell.

The air stilled in his lungs, palm shifting, then pressing against Neria's cheek, thumb running across it. There were no tears to swipe away, but Kell knew the note in her voice, had heard it so often in the wake of Rhy's nightmares.

It hardened his nerves, made him want to hunt down and shatter whatever nameless things had happened, but he was powerless.

He'd chosen. He'd left her. He'd known she would suffer, and he'd left her to do it alone.

Without a word, Kell drew her closer, back into his arms. It was a promise, an apology, an understanding.

His hand was warm. Closing her eyes, she pressed against it, and willed her heart to stop beating quite so fast. Nothing was going to harm her here.

And then, Kell brought her close again and folded her into an embrace. There were no words. Neria's hands fell and then returned to his back, wrapping around him. She pressed her forehead into his shoulder and breathed him in.

Lilies.

"I'm sorry," she murmured into his coat. For the things she'd said, for the friendship that had fallen apart in that fucking place. For coming now, when she had not intended it, and knowing she had probably changed things again. Her grip tightened. "I've missed you so much."

Kell had thumbed through the events a hundred times. What had happened to them, between them, through this place and through their own hurts, all the things they'd never said and all he'd thought he'd never had a chance to.

More had happened to her, he knew -- much more, including things Kell could not begin to or hope to understand.

His fingers tightened on the back of her clothes, eyes squeezing shut as he turned his face to press it into her hair.

"You too. I'm sorry, and I-" he drew in a breath, holding on tight, voice coming out rough around the edges.

"I have missed you."

Kell knew better than to promise safety, to deal in absolutes, to assure her of what he was capable. The world was so much bigger than them, even newly-made and half-made gods.

"As long as you want it, everything mine is yours."

Her fingers fisted briefly into his jacket at his apologies. Her shoulders were rigid. But he followed it with the assurance that he missed her, and that...that was all she needed, she realized. More of the tension sighed out of her on the next exhale. For a moment, she seemed to almost sag against him, like the life had gone out of her.

But instead, she turned her head, nuzzling up softly against him.

Just outside of his thoughts, she gave him her presence. It was far stronger than before, harnessed and honed over days and weeks of practice with her godhood. But it curled around him like a defensive hound, warm, and nestled against him.

"I'll need to find out how to go back," she murmured. Which wasn't a refusal or a decline, only stating fact. "But I...want to stay here with you. However long I can." However long she had left until Asora needed her, and before she lost everything left that resembled humanity.

Neria lifted her head, nudging at him with her nose for a moment. Her forehead rested against his head. "Kell. I'm not angry with you. You know that, right?"

Edited (no jk I wanted to say more) 2018-04-02 06:26 (UTC)

As her presence settled around him, deep and dark but still unmistakably her, Kell finally felt himself relax. He hadn't been realizing how tightly he'd held himself until he felt her mind brush against his, familiar.

It was enough, just to be close.

"As long as you want," he assured her, but then she nudged at him, and the words all caught in his throat. Slowly, he shut his eyes, felt the rush of everything anew, all that had happened, everything he'd pressed down deep. The last words before they parted, before the world went to hell, the horrible things that happened after she'd gone silent in his mind.

The way she'd pulled away from in the chambers of Aallotar, gone so quickly on her quest -- but still refused to take back her pendant.

Neria had told him that she was angry... and he'd known that forgiveness was something that would be a long time coming, if it came at all. He could not begrudge her that.

But it still unhitched something in his chest to hear her say it.

"I left," he said quietly.

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