ruinations | adsom: reunions

"That was where you wanted to be-- And I'm certain that Hakkyuu considered refusing you," she bit back, not looking at him for several moments. "Hakkyuu is as disgusted with slavery as I am. But he wouldn't have sent you away. Who knew where you'd end up, if not with him?"

But it had been the same with Murphy. Neria was afraid of where she'd end up.

A breath escaped her, harsh, painful. Her grip tightened in her hair. "I know it isn't about me," she ground out, remembering what he'd told her in the wake of Daud's death. Do not make this about you. She closed her eyes tightly. "I know." But it did not make the pain less.

"She has to succeed," she whispered. "That's all this is."

"Exactly."

It came out in a voice that caught at the edges, though the core was still steady. Kell set a hand on Neria's hair, next to hers, though far less tight of a grip.

"Of course," he added, a dangerous note in his voice, "that doesn't make it any less wrong to do to you."

What godhood was worth that? What anything was worth that?

Kell tried to picture it, but even the split second of imagining burning those marks into Hakkyuu's skin turned his stomach. It made him think of Astrid and Athos, of Holland and his scars. Of Rhy and how he'd twisted in the grip of that magic.

No. It was not something he could do.

She breathed in silence, eyes shut tightly, and said nothing. At length, one hand unwound from her hair and looped fingers with his own. Neria tugged his hand back down so she could simply hold it, her anchor in the moment, something to pull her from her grief.

It took several moments for her to unwind. For her to drop the other hand from her hair and to finally allow herself the space to be safe again, even in the memories that wrapped around her heart and squeezed it too tightly.

Neria did not give voice to the ache that lingered deeper. But Kell would feel it, a whisper of a thought: I miss her.

The loneliness burned deep into her bones, deeper still with the knowledge that if they should all succeed at their trials and come together later, they would be so fractured not only as people but as a unit. As a group. And she could not help but feel all of it had started at the ambush. All of them broken as people from that one day.

She did not blame Kell. In her heart, where she let him wind himself again, there was no trace of fury any longer, no condemnation. But that day in the snow was the first crack that spun into fissure she saw now. She only wanted to fix it, and feared it was too late.

Her fingers threaded with Kell's. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I... My mess isn't what I wanted to linger on." It wasn't fair to him and Neria was tired of dwelling in her own mire. She tipped her head up to look at him. "What's happened since you came home? How are you?"

Kell held on, anchoring them both in the moment. Upset as he was, he couldn't make sense of it. There had to be something else, some bit of information that would have it all falling into place.

As it stood, there wasn't.

... and as Neria didn't give voice to the feeling, it was mirrored all the same in Kell. They had both her. Lost what they'd had. The ties borne on that battlefield, in the campfire's glow, with drinks and cards and imperfect understandings.

Things would never be the same.

Kell's lips thinned as Neria asked, but Rhy did the same when he was hurting, even if he did it with a joke, making light of what he'd suffered to change the subject, and Kell had learned to let those moments go. He threaded his fingers with hers, looked down between them.

"We came back only hours after we'd disappeared," he said quietly. "No one, not even our guards, had noticed we were gone. We explained what happened to the king and queen, but... have agreed to keep the reality of what happened to us a state secret."

Kell ran his thumb over Neria's knuckles.

"We did much the same with Rhy's death, but his eye is harder to conceal, so... we will not. The royal family has not yet addressed the rumors to the public, but it's been implied that it was a natural, if late, manifestation of Rhy's talents.

"No one living knows much about Antari," Kell added. "Even if there are whispers, it would be nearly impossible to dispute."

... of course, when Rhy and Kell failed to age, failed to die... things would need explaining. But they would cross that bridge when they came to it, and it was not a new problem to consider.

She held his hand and listened, eventually scooting closer once more. Her gaze was on Kell's face as he recounted how they'd only been gone for hours, how no one knew, and the concern their parents must have had. Neria's lips drifted into a frown.

Quietly, she told him, "One of the guards seemed suspicious. It seemed like he knew I didn't belong." And now she knew why. "I'm so sorry, Kell. I was trying to be discreet." But she didn't know how else to find him.

Briefly, she lapsed into silence. And then--

"Do...Do the king and queen know what has happened to both of you? Or is that something you've concealed?"

Kell squeezed her hands back, holding on tight, but did not seem particularly concerned.

"There are hundreds of strangers in London for the Games. For most you will pass as one of them. The guard you spoke to was one of the older officers. The message had to go through the King before it came to me."

Kell looked down at their joined hands, and for the first time shifted in discomfort. Not tied to her... but for the obvious display of mistrust.

A few months ago, he would have been allowed to act freely.

"They know what happened- we told them an overview of what we went through, detailed a few parts. Tieren is the one who picked our stories over; he knows nearly everything."

Kell made himself look into her eyes.

"They are concerned about Asora, and what is happening there. Of how it could potentially reach Arnes, and our world. Your appearance is... alarming, to say the least. I insisted on seeing you first, and seeing you alone. I've assured them you're a friend and would never mean us any harm, but they will have questions."

She went pale, realizing the reason why it had taken so long for Kell to find her was not because he had waited but because the message had not gone through him first. And he'd had to advocate for her, to explain she was not a harm. He'd had to convince them.

Her fingers tightened on his. She thought of the guard and his blade and wondered how quickly he could have cut her down if he'd really felt she was a danger.

(Worse, how quickly she could have cut him down to keep herself safe.)

Neria held his gaze for a long moment. And then, softly, she asked, "When would you like for me to see them?" If Kell had fought for her, for her safety and their privacy, then she would fight just as hard to convince them she meant no harm and would do her best to return. She'd need to find ways to ensure Asora could not leak over into Arnes.

But then, she might have to close the door on Kell's world forever, and truly never see him again.

Kell squeezed back. This was no small thing, nothing to brush aside, but he knew that she understood that. Of all of the people it could have been, he was glad it was her.

"It's late," he answered. "And you need sleep, something to eat." Never mind that they were dead -- they still hungered, they still felt tired, even if it wouldn't kill them to be so. "They would like to see you once it's light, if that will suit."

Kell squeezed her hands again. "My family is not like the warlords of the army, or like the elves. They are firm but fair, and care deeply for their people. I've told them how much you've done for me. For Rhy. They have questions, but you will be welcomed as a friend and ally."

His assurances helped. Neria loosed a faint breath and slowly nodded. Firm but fair. She could work with that. Her fingers briefly tangled again with his as she nodded, and then she sat back with a quiet sigh.

"I'll do whatever you need me to." If that meant giving them assurances or being truthful...she'd do it. She'd try her best to give everything.

Neria made a small gesture with her hand. "It's all right. I don't...sleep or eat anymore," she murmured. "But I'll rest. And food might be nice in the morning." It would be better, too, to eat and convince them she was not a monstrous thing, that she had wants like anyone else.

Given what they had come home as, given what Kell had done to Rhy, it wasn't far of a stretch, but parents could only be pushed so far.

Kell braced himself against the wall, providing a steady support for her to lean against. It was late, the air cool but calm, the single flame of the ever-burning candle reflecting off of the inky black of his eye.

With a deep, slow sigh, he let go of it all to look down at their joined hands, and along their connection, she'd feel the ache, the bittersweetness of seeing her again, knowing it came at a high cost, of the enormous relief that came of forgiveness, even if it prickled at the guilt, given that he had not fully forgiven himself.

"I'm happy to see you again, Neria."

And lean she did. Neria tucked herself in close to Kell, soaking in the warmth of his grip and the solidity of his frame. Her head rested on his shoulder. Slowly, she pushed out a sigh, and seemed almost smaller for a moment.

With care, she tilted her head up, and briefly kissed his cheek.

"I'm glad - immensely glad, beyond words - to see you, Kell." To have this time to say things and to tell him she had forgiven him, that she loved him, and she never once hated him.

Beside him now, she felt at peace for the first time in months. "Your city is very beautiful, too," she whispered.

Neria was warm, solid and real.

Kell settled his chin and cheek against her hair as she leaned against him, shutting his eyes and for the moment, shutting out the world. The worlds. All of them, narrowed down to this sense of peace. He felt the same, felt it with every breath.

“It is,” he answered, his voice almost soft, proud. As twisted up in memories as Red London was, Kell loved his city in his own way, and he couldn’t deny the beauty of the twisting, ever-changing streets. Perhaps homes had to be grown into. Having been so far away, there was a comfort in being back.

It was far from perfect, but it was beautiful, and it was home.

“I will show you everything,” he promised, even as a whisper in his other ear reminded him he’d be tailed by guards. “It will give me an excuse to be gone from the palace.” By his tone, he’d sorely wished for a reason, even a temporary one.

There was a quiet sound from her. It could have been a laugh, if she'd put more effort into it.

"You know, that's what I thought." She smiled against his shoulder, and looked up at him briefly. "I thought...you must be in the palace, with Rhy. But then I wondered if you wouldn't be out in the city, using any excuse to be as far away from the palace as possible." Far away from formalities and the sweeping grand halls it must have. Far from the weight of duty, if only for a few hours. "I had a mind to go looking in the city for you but I hadn't the faintest idea where to begin looking. And I feared, more than that, that using my power to find you would have--"

She frowned, emotion twisting up like a tangled knot. Unraveling it, she started with the safer answer. "I did not know if someone would sense me. And I wondered what you would do or say if I came to you." Her hand tightened around his. "I thought it might be easier if I could send a message. You could decline me gently and I would leave, no questions asked." Thankfully, that hadn't been the case.

So she settled again, comfortable. "I would love to see your London with you."

"Then we will, once things calm enough."

Kell listened, still half in her mind as well as his own, detangling the emotions from her words. Things were always intense when they were this near each other, and for the first time he questioned how they were doing this, if Murphy had bound away her powers. Had some, then, been left behind? Was it part of her god-powers now? She'd said that she'd sunk down through the worlds...

Just what was happening to her now?

"If you can reach me, you can reach for me," he promised. "Powers that influence the mind or will or body of another person without their consent are forbidden here, punishable by permanent binding of one's magic." Meaning, ultimately, that Kell was not watched as he had been in the army.

Squeezing her hand, he held on a bit more tightly. He could understand her unease, given how they'd parted, and a part of him was thankful she had been cautious.

"Only a handful of people in the city would be powerful enough to sense you, or what you are," he assured her, his voice quiet. "I could, and Rhy could, with training. Tieren could, and perhaps some of the higher priests. Others will feel things but not know what to make it of it."

Rubbing his chin, he went on. "If someone caught on, they would be more likely to name you aven than a threat."

Just as the guard had.

Briefly, she stiffened. Her presence in his thoughts stilled, as if tensed, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. And, in fact, she contemplated slipping back out for fear of what it meant for her to be doing this, even if he was allowing it--

But she did not. She stayed and settled, though her thoughts were forcibly quieter for the moment.

"I'll call to you, if I need to." She would not go invading his thoughts, even if her divinity allowed for it now. "But I won't abuse the gift you've given me," she whispered, more for her sake than for his.

As he spoke further, though, Neria was quiet and contemplative. Rhy and Kell were not as far along as she in godhood, but they could be-- And she did not know if she wished to encourage such a thing, especially if Kell and his family worried for the state of the world and for what might come after her.

"The one guard called me 'mas aven'," she whispered. "I didn't know what it meant. He was kind and polite to me...but I wasn't certain if I could chance it and press further." Not when she was alone, when her one ally might not have wanted to see her.

Kell felt her hesitate, and waited. Not for the first time, he wondered if this was as strange for her, or if it were stranger. The very fact that Neria would not abuse the access to his mind and heart was what made him trust her with it -- the same as he trusted Rhy with his soul, and Hakkyuu to command.

All he answered with was a nod.

Aven, however, required more thought. It was a word that did not have a direct translation into the language they shared, and the connotations were many and varied.

"Mas Aven is a title," Kell answered quietly. "An unofficial one, but telling. Being gifted in magic, especially in here in London, is common. Aven are... more. Aven are..."

Kell's brow pinched. "Apart. Other. Especially blessed, or cursed. They are someone touched by power beyond the norm, expected to do great or terrible things, whether they mean to or not. You and I would be considered Aven."

With his blue eye, he carefully regarded her. "Mas is my. The same way Rhy would be called Mas Vares, My Prince. The way he used it indicates respect."

Kell gestured to the sanctuary around them, the quiet walls, and the invisible spellwork in the stone, peaceful around them.

"You arrived speaking royal and dressed nothing like nobility. You asked for me. You were not familiar with the city. And because I never leave it except to travel to other worlds, the guard could only assume you came from somewhere else, and that you were immensely powerful."

With that, his voice grew quiet. "He followed protocol. Had you been a threat, it would have been my task to end you here."

Neria was silent, leaning against his shoulder as he explained these things to her. Mas Vares for Rhy, when she saw him again. But she listened to the rest, heard the things Kell was trying to say. Aven was reserved for certain kinds of people, people like Kell. Other. Blessed or cursed. She looked up into Kell's black eye and frowned.

It wasn't fair, she thought, that he should live his life feeling as if he was an outsider. Brother to the prince but never treated in kind - though she knew Kell did not mind at all - and still seen as something else. Someone apart from others.

She stilled again as he explained what she'd done by mistake. The guard had given her a test: go into the sanctuary if you mean no harm. If she would not go, if it would not allow her, then Kell would have been summoned to end her life. Her expression was strange and unreadable for a moment. Somehow, even as deep within Kell's thoughts and heart as she was, her thoughts were untraceable and as silent as the grave.

Softly, she asked, "How often have you had to do that?"

Neria grasped the feeling Kell had lived with all his life instinctively, the one he'd never been able to adequantely express to others. Rhy had grown up knowing him as simply Kell, but despite seeing how others looked at him, he was only learning the gulf between them and other people now.

As she went silent, Kell squeezed her hand, but said nothing, as if to reassure her. She had not made a mistake. She'd done precisely what she should have, just as the guard had.

"Not often," he answered. "Thankfully."

The weight of it hung between them a moment, and Kell thought of leaving it at that, of not acknowledging it. With another person he might not have.

"The threat of me alone is usually sufficient. Few would dare attack the royal family, but there have been several attempts in my lifetime."

There were questions. Neria seemed pensive, a prowling thing, uncertain how to approach it. Kell would feel something simmering within her as she tried to find words. She squeezed his hand and remained silent until he was finished.

"Several attempts."

The first question, unasked, was when did this start? But deeper, still, was a different sort of inquiry.

"You are the only one who defends them? It's just you?"

Kell waited for the questions to come, feeling the silence like a wall, a place she'd gone in her thoughts that he could not follow. He saw this particular part of his duty as utterly necessary, and whether the liked it immaterial.

"No," he answered, "not by far. There are layers upon layers of security, but I am a part of it, and Rhy has always been my main priority.

"Had I not been here, the priests of the sanctuary itself would have acted in my stead. But I could handle it with minimal risk."

Kell finished the sentence, and felt... strange. Removed, given all they'd seen. What had been done to them.

"With Holland dead, no single person alive in any of the Londons could have a hope of challenging me in a fair fight."

... short of Neria herself.

Layers upon layers, but Kell was probably the last line of defense...and the most powerful. Knowing there were others did not quite loosen the knot in her chest. Kell had always told her he wasn't a prince, even when Rhy called him brother and called him loved.

Kell was a bodyguard, bound to Rhy and bound to the castle. And even though Rhy loved him, loved him as if they shared the same blood - and they did now, she supposed - she had to wonder...

But it wasn't right to ask.

Instead, she relented somewhat. Let him back inside but kept those things locked away for the moment, where they could ruminate without troubling Kell. Leaning up a little, she almost bumped his head with hers, cat-like. "So long as no one else slips through the fissure between worlds. There is a door back there, you will recall." Immund never said if it was one use. "When I go back, I'll make certain it's closed. Or destroyed."

Edited 2018-04-14 23:09 (UTC)

"There is," Kell admitted, and closed one eye as she bumped into him, and along their connection came a flicker of pleasure, the hint of a smile that didn't show in his face, but did in his eyes.

"And destroyed would be best," he admitted. Best not have anyone making anything so powerful, or making use of it. His world was prepared for threats, but not of that magnitude.

"But you did not come here through the door, did you?"

Destroyed, then. She'd slip in to Aallotar when the time was right to tear the door down. So long as she was quick, so long as she could dismantle the magic, she could get in and out without too many repercussions. Immund could hate her for it later, but if this could be the final gift she gave Kell, she'd do it gladly.

To his question, she shook her head. "I didn't. So I'll...also need to find a way to keep others from doing the same as I, or else the worlds beyond Asora will be in danger. And I don't want anything to happen to you and yours."

... and if she succeeded, truly succeeded, then Kell's world would be safe, but he would never see her again.

It shouldn't have been a question. It should have been an easy choice to make. The right one, the only one. It wasn't a choice at all-

... but selfishly, Kell hesitated. Pain scraped along the underside of his heart, and nothing sat correctly.

It would be one more thing he'd be expected to bear without complaint or question.

His pain echoed hers. She hadn't ever expected to see him again. But with the option now on the table, with the knowledge she could come back to him with enough focus, it felt all the more painful to know that if she wanted him to be safe...she would have to let him go.

And that, to her, was unacceptable.

Neria reached out, smoothing over his pained heart. She took him by the arm and ducked beneath it, so she could rest closer to him. Her arm looped around him.

"I'm not giving you up again," she whispered. "Not without a fight."

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