ruinations | adsom: reunions

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."

Kell hadn't full expected that to be her answer. Neria had always been the best of them, the first to sacrifice, even if it meant her own happiness.

But so much had been taken from her, stripped away, that Kell instinctively understood. They could not afford to lose anyone or anything else.

It brought them to a moral quandary, but it made Kell wonder. Was it possible? Could they manage to secure the barriers, but leave enough of a gap for her to pass through?

We did it with Black London, a part of him whispered. It could be done here.

It could.

Kell's fingers slid into Neria's hair, and he held her to him without a word to the contrary, tipped his face forward to press into her hair, mouth brushing against her temple.

"Not without a fight," he agreed.

It was most likely she would need to let him go again. She'd already watched him go and chose not to stop him. In the aftermath of so much pain, she couldn't ask it of Kell. He'd wanted to go home, to take Rhy out of Asora, and she understood that. She wouldn't have wanted him to stay. But she wouldn't lie or bite her tongue and say she hadn't missed him. That it hadn't hurt when he had gone, or when Hakkyuu had disappeared.

Neria knew of sacrifice. She was ready to give everything and more for the world, for the people she loved. But she wanted to stay, wanted to be beside Kell again. If nothing else, even if she lost him, at least she could say she tried.

He didn't fight her declaration. Didn't tell her it was foolish, didn't give voice to the doubt she felt.

I want to be selfish, if only for a moment.

Kell's lips were warm. Neria closed her eyes and pressed close to him. Her fingers found his jacket and tightened there.

Kell had had practice in comforting someone else with a touch. Rhy had always been an affectionate child, but in the wake of the kidnapping, between surges of anxiety, he sometimes held onto Kell like this.

He'd been the only one who ever had, until Asora.

As Neria pressed close to him, seeking out his warmth, Kell's natural response was to hold her closer, without words and without sign of stopping.

He thought of Hakkyuu, of the way he'd held on in the infirmary bed, as if he were in danger of being swept away. Thought of Rhy and his tears, and of the long silences in his own mind.

He knew only a fraction of what Neria had seen, but he didn't need to, to know she needed him now. So he pushed aside thoughts of the future, and what it would become.

Kell's long fingers settled in her hair, and he held on.

Perhaps it was Kell she needed. Or the contact, or just to be...present with someone. This was the longest she'd gone without the others. Their pack had been split off; Archer had fallen to his fury; Murphy had hurt her. Neria was, essentially, alone now. She did not dare to put words to the feeling as she knew the others suffered, too, but...

But she wasn't alone here. Not for the moment.

Neria exhaled, leaning against him. Her grip loosened in his jacket but she kept her arms around him. With care, she tipped her head up to partially nuzzle him, her nose brushing near his collar.

"I'm sorry. I'm... I know I'm all over the place."

Though Kell was solid to lean against, he didn't often have the right words. He didn't have Rhy's easy, gentle humor that managed to be both arrogant and utterly comforting. He was best at orienting, pushing through.

At action.

But sometimes, life had to take a moment and sit still.

So he didn't answer, not aloud. Instead Kell drew Neria closer, enough to work both arms around her and hold on. It was late and the night was still. The candlelight was all that seemed to hold back the shadows, but for Kell the shades of this place had never been hostile or foreboding.

Sanctuary.

"We can stay here for the night," he offered. "Or I can take you back to the castle. You could stay with me-" Kell planned to give up the bed, "-or I can find you a room."

She was selfish to think it, but she wanted to remain like that, with Kell's arms around her. His warmth surrounded her and she rested against his chest, her head against his shoulder, and the world finally seemed to settled into something peaceful. Her heartbeat echoed his own in perfect tandem. But she knew he'd need to go.

Until he offered to stay.

Slowly, she lifted her head, and her brow furrowed. "I... You would be missed, wouldn't you? They'd wonder where you'd gone for so long. And having me in the castle-- Wouldn't that upset the king and queen? They haven't given me leave to be that close." Even if she wanted to be. And she did.

Her hands rested on Kell's shoulders, soft, gentle. She looked up into his face. "Where would you rather be?"

"With you."

It was an immediate, truthful answer, one Kell had no problem admitting. His brow furrowed as he thought it over, weighing their options.

"They cannot object to you staying in the sanctuary." Though a few months ago Kell may have risked sneaking her into the castle, the probability of discovery was almost certain, and Neria did not need that type of stress. Not with her recent dealings with royalty.

"I will step out a moment and inform my guards of where I will be for the night," he added.

"May I pick up anything for you? Food? Clothes?"

But she couldn't remain in the sanctuary forever. She agreed to meet with them and could only imagine what their reactions would be to someone - no, something like her. Would she only remind them of what their son would become? That there were others like her without altruistic wishes for their world?

For tonight, it was enough. It was more than enough. She would simply need to expect an unfavorable reception. It wouldn't be the first time.

Slowly, she shook her head. "No, I don't--" Although... "Would it be better if I worse something that made me look like a native of Arnes? Or should I could as I am tomorrow?"

Kell considered, feeling the brush of anxiousness and indecision through their link, though he didn't comment on it aloud. Instead he ran one hand down her back, thinking it over.

"There would be nothing wrong with coming as you are," Kell answered. "But if you want to look more like a native of Arnes-" and to keep suspicious eyes off of her, "I know of an excellent tailor. Her name is Calla, she speaks Royal-"

Kell cut off, searching for the word. "Our shared language, and would take good care of you. She also does not ask very many questions."

Valuable, when one constantly acquired suspicious bloodstains.

There was, finally, a faint smile. "Know from experience?" She could only imagine Kell getting into some sort of scrap or trouble and coming to her with tears in his outfit, which had to be patched before someone in the castle suspected. It reminded her of the sly smiles Kell used to give in very rare moments, mostly when he was with Hakkyuu. It lightened something in her chest for a moment.

"I'll go see her. It's...probably too late to do that. If she's open in the morning, I'll be glad to meet with her and see if there's something I can wear that will make me less conspicuous." And perhaps be worthy enough to show her willingness to keep Kell and his world alive.

Reluctantly, she slipped out of his arms. But as she rose, her lips fleetingly brushed the crown of his head. "Go on. I'll wait for you."

It chased the smallest hint of a smile out of him in return, and it showed more in his eyes than the rest of his face. She did know him, as few people did.

"She's a merchant of the night market. We'll see her when it's light, before she sleeps."

Slowly, Kell opened his arms to let her go, but his eyes widened slightly at the small kiss. Their connection didn't wall off at the lack of contact, but it wasn't quite so direct.

Kell nodded in return, then got to his feet, pulling back the sleeve of his coat. A slim line already showed on his arm. Though it had stopped bleeding that silvery-pearl color, the cut still looked raw.

Without hesitation Kell drew his knife, then cut another line below the first, dabbing his fingers against the blood before crossing the room to the wall, where a symbol was drawn, months old. It was a dark, rusted red -- from back when Kell's blood had been that color.

She'd see him hesitate, just a flicker of it, before he put his blood-coated fingers to the mark and painstakingly drew over it, replicating it exactly, ensuring it remained unbroken.

"As Tascen," he whispered, and stepped through a door that wasn't there. A rush of magic pushed over her skin, followed by a dull popping noise, and then he was gone.

Kell was absent for a short time, but still long enough to fray the nerves, leaving her in silence with the candle and the meditation circle on the floor. Though the room was almost painfully simple it had the feel of magic, ancient magic, settled and still.

When Kell returned it was a reverse of what she'd seen when he left- the sudden appearance of Kell, holding two mugs of steaming tea and an extra blanket, unable to balance them and pull his sleeve back down -- over the third cut that now glistened in the firelight.

It was good to see something of a smile, even fleeting. It was decided, then; they would go to the market at first light. And until then, she could have his company.

Neria stepped away but paused as she saw him pull up his sleeve. There was a line and now, now she remembered the pale blood she'd seen on his fingers. Her brow furrowed as she watched him cut into his arm once more without a care and she stiffened, biting down on the protest that started to form. How many times had she done the same, recently? Kell had told her from the beginning that his power was in the blood. She had forgotten; Kell's power seemed effortless to her on a magnitude beyond her comprehension. His blood coated the symbol, he whispered, and then he was gone.

And she was alone.

The room was quaint, quiet. Under other circumstances, it would be peaceful. But the silence in such a foreign place had her nerves on edge without him. Slowly, she sank back down to sit on the rug, and she emptied her thoughts. Hands pulled in close, cradling each other, she cast her senses wide - not to sense for Kell but simply to know the city. The dark spun out in silence, webbing around buildings in the night, looking for new and strange places. She mapped the city in her head through the eyes of the dark, through the whispers she strained to hear as she reached deep into her divinity. The scar on her shoulder and breast burned with the effort.

All of that snapped back into place with a shudder as Kell suddenly returned, leaving her briefly shaken and wide-eyed. She blinked, quickly standing, and she moved to help him. Her hand gently went out for his arm. "Another?" she asked softly, coaxing him to sit.

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