ruinations | adsom: reunions

adsom: reunions

Too much. It was too much.

Neria had slipped into the dark with incredible ease, buried herself in it so she could escape from her trial and from everything else. She jumped through the layers of the world - the dark, the fissures of other realms, a deeper dark she had no name for - and as she went, the world seemed to simply shimmer away. Neria fell through the layers of the realms and Cassian screamed for her. Rather than fight, she simply allowed herself to fall away from the world.

And as she came back out, she stepped from the shadows of an alley, breathless, leaning against the stone. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom as if she'd gone from dusk to twilight and she waited there a moment, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes until she saw dancing spots. Her chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

Cassian whispered to her, cajoling, and she finally came back to herself.

And she was not in Emorr.

The street was unfamiliar. As she stretched her senses through the shadows, she realized that...nothing was familiar here. She'd come out elsewhere in her fit and Neria moved from the alley to quickly begin exploring, keeping to the shadows cautiously.

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There was a single night back in the mountains where they had all huddled close in their lean-to, the five of them. It hadn't been like this. Even if it had, that night had been bitterly, terribly cold, and she would have thought nothing to be near like this.

That was a lifetime ago. But even now, she did not feel uncomfortable with Kell. Instead, the positioning, being near him, all of this... It stirred up feelings again, a heavy heartache that was painful but not unwanted. He situated himself and she followed suit, leaning against his chest. Neria put her arms around him loosely, and she fitted herself so they were not so strangely twined. And, nestled close, she could hear his heart beating, a steady thrum that was calming to her.

"I'm fine," she whispered, looking up at him. "Are you? It's not...too bad, right? I can make myself smaller, if it'll help--"

Though Kell had never been particularly good at cuddling, Rhy was a very tactile person, and there had been stretches in their lives where he'd needed the closeness. Kell was somewhat rusty, but he at least knew how to arrange himself.

In the time directly after his death, he'd shared a cot more often than not.

"Rhy's bigger than you are," he answered, without thinking of how it sounded, how she might take it. He was long past caring- and it was Neria.

The cot was at least long enough for his legs, and Kell stretched out, settling slowly, aching with an echo of her pain -- a sensation that for many would be odd, but for him...

The silence settled, and finally, Kell spoke. "You're thinking of something."

It didn't matter how he wanted it to sound. Neria only smiled. "Then you should feel right at home, yes?" she teased. She'd gone a long time without resting near someone; Neria hadn't shared her sleeping space with anyone since the trials began. Even Rowen, who she took in, slept nearby and never in her cot. She'd gone out of his way to get him his own.

And that was even if she slept.

To have another body so close, to feel warm and safe with someone... Neria finally began to relax, her body not held so tightly. But as Kell spoke, she smiled.

"If I have my magic back--" And she did, so she tried.

A simple brush of magic wrapped around her, and Neria grew far smaller. Dark, inky, her fur nearly luminous, there was a black cat where she had been, staring up at Kell with bright golden eyes. She chirruped.

The magic flitted over her skin, between them, warm and tingling and familiar, and Kell's eyes widened as she shrank against him. It was a simple spell to her, but for Kell, there were few times he was surprised by magic.

He beamed as widely as a child, taken by surprise, and immediately reached out to rest his fingertips on her velvety head.

"... I did not know you could do that."

She'd never seen him so surprised, nor so pleased. It made her heart tighten a little in her chest.

Her small head lifted, bumping against his fingers. The eyes held only warmth, her long tail twitching mildly in interest and little else. She turned in a small circle, letting him get a good look at her. In almost every way, she seemed a typical cat. But as she turned in the candlelight, the fur looked just a bit too dark, like an oil slick.

You've seen me as a wolf before, I know. I know many shapes to be but few are strong enough for battle. Others are simply convenient.

As she turned, her tail wrapped briefly around his fingers. Neria came to sit in front of him, letting him inspect her on his own. This is useful enough to slip by places mostly unnoticed.

Kell left his hand lifted, staring in silent wonder as her tail lifted and curled against his fingers. He closed them loosely, let it slide through without gripping, then offered his fingers again to rub against if she so chose.

Unconsciously, treating her like a real cat.

"Not in Red London," he warned, but he could not banish the smile. "Cats are rarer here, and prized. However, they're all over the streets in Grey."

All the more fitting, then, that Kell Maresh has found one of the only cats in Red London, she quipped, leaning her head up to brush her face against his fingers. She satisfied herself with nudging her chin against him, mildly scratching.

Who would ask questions? But if it would be less suspicious, I can be a dog too. Or something smaller, easily slipped in a pocket.

A mouse or a ferret or even a bird. But this form seemed to suit her just fine, and she stretched idly before bumping up close again, nearer to his chest, though she couldn't resist ducking beneath his hand again so he could run his fingers through her soft fur.

"True."

Kell trailed off, pleased by the thought, by how very black she was, how startling her eyes. Memories of Esa (soft and white, a flicker of a beautiful cat with pink pawpads flashing across Neria's mind) tickled at him, but Kell let them pass; and with them the memory of a small white ermine with eyes black as coal, a quick, hot cut of claws drawn across a wound that Kell still hadn't managed to truly close, let alone heal.

"A cat is fine," he murmured, working his fingers into her fur to give her a generous rubdown, finding all of the places that required rubbing, scratching.

Neria felt the flicker of memories and, though her expression could not completely change, there was a startlement in her eyes as she tried to decipher all she felt and saw in the moment. Leaning into his hand, she slipped closer, and bumped her head against his. Faint purring came from her throat as she nuzzled him, leaning in.

His hands were warm and, eventually, Neria settled down against him. She ducked her head against his chin and continued to purr, letting him pet her. It was the most relaxed she had been since finding Kell again, at last feeling comfortable enough to feel safe.

Her little paws worked faintly at his shirt and chest. She blinked slowly at him. Cats cannot smile but she certainly seemed to be. That's nice, she whispered, again rubbing her face against his chin.

Though some might argue that cats were aloof, cold creatures, Kell had always found them to be quite affectionate, given the proper motivation. Silence, a steady hand, no chasing, no grabbing. To Kell, their sensibilities and mannerisms made utter sense.

Though Neria was not a real cat, she behaved enough like one for the illusion to be profoundly comforting, and it wasn't until she purred against him, slow-blinked sleeked her dark body up against his own, that he realized just how very exhausted he was. How utterly relieved he was to see her. To know that they could repair things between them.

Kell bent his head to touch his cheek against her fur, let out a sigh, and relaxed, eyes drifting shut.

He was soft with her and infinitely tender. She purred quietly until sleep overtook her, quicker than she anticipated. In safety, she felt peace. It was all she needed.

Only once did she stir in the night, blessedly. A flicker of nightmares that briefly startled the small body, which took some time to remember where she was. Who was with her. That she was all right. She curled up against him again and was asleep in no time at all.

At some point, of course, the magic wore off. Neria was herself again, curled up against Kell, her legs and feel just barely resting off of the cot. She did not notice. She was warm and comfortable, her face hidden in Kell's chest, a hand against his side. In the end, they both fit well enough on the cot that it was no trouble at all.

For the first time in some time, Kell slept the rest of the night through, solid and still. His breathing came regularly, and even when she stirred in nightmares, Kell only barely followed suit, and then not enough to fully wake.

Dawn found them with one of Kell's arms draped loosely over the dip of Neria's waist, breath caught in her dark hair, still deeply asleep as the light crept in.

Somewhere in the sanctuary, bells rang, chiming the world awake.

Sometime in the night, she began to breathe again. And her breath caught briefly in her throat at the sound of bells. A single eye opened as she turned her head sleepily. Light peeked in through the doorway. She softly groaned and closed her eye again, burying her face back into Kell's chest.

It took her several moments to remember where she was and who she was with. It did not encourage her to stir; being here with Kell was a sanctuary all to itself.

But slowly, she did start to rise. She blinked some sleep away and lifted herself just slightly onto an elbow. She turned her eyes upon Kell, still sleeping, his hair mussed, his hand on her side. Slowly, Neria smiled, and lifted a hand to brush pieces of his hair back from his face. So rarely had she ever seen him at peace. It was a shame to rouse him. "Kell," she whispered softly. "It's morning. We should get up."

Kell was so deeply asleep he didn't wake immediately, even with her moving against him. His brow creased, body heavy as she pushed against his chest, muscles slowly coiling as he willed himself from sleep, even if he didn't blink his eyes open until he felt Neria's fingers in his hair, running across his scalp.

He shivered before he knew to quell it, opened his eyes with a breath, and focused on her, his thoughts still thick with sleep.

"... hm?"

Not the most eloquent in the mornings.

Neria smiled down at him, brushing some hair over her shoulder so it did not fall into his face. "Good morning," she murmured. "They were ringing the bells a minute ago. It's light outside." And it would probably be best for them to get up, though she was warm beside him and it was good to see him so comfortable. It was a shame they couldn't linger.

"Someone's probably going to come looking for you soon." And finding him tangled up with her might not be the best first impression to give.

... she really was still there, even in the daylight.

Kell blinked back to the world of the waking, his expression softer, younger than she usually had cause to see on him, watching her and feeling... peaceful.

At least until the agenda of the day began to trickle in, lining up objectives, goals, appointments, the anticipation of the coming night.

"Not here," he assured her, shoulders tensing as he pushed himself slowly up, pulled his fingers through his slightly rumpled hair. The pillow had left a mark on his cheek. "Not openly."

He rubbed the heel of his hand over his blue eye, then seemed to remember.

"I think we wanted to see Calla?"

Neria watched his expression change from one of calm to tension once more as he sat up, the line in his shoulders pronounced. It was something she'd seen in Kell often - though, this time, it was a bit difficult to take him seriously when his hair was mussed and there was a mark on his face from where his face had been pressed to the cushions.

She couldn't help it. She smiled again for a moment, warmer this time, and tapped his cheek with a single finger. "Then we have a little time. Which means you won't look quite so bedraggled when someone sees us."

Leaning over, she picked up her tunic and began to pull it on. "From the Night Market, correct? She can help me get some better clothes to blend in." The tunic was partially over her head before she looked at Kell quizzically. "I... I don't have any coin to give her. Is there something else I can do instead?" Her lips briefly dipped into a frown. "I don't want you to need to pay my way here."

Kell frowned slightly at the tap, then seemed to catch her meaning, drawing a deeper breath and straightening up, sliding from the warmth of the bed to head to the basin, where he poured water from a pitcher to rinse his face, run through his hair, leaving it still a touch rumpled, but presentable.

He no longer wore it in a way that had it falling into his eye. Slowly but surely, Hakkyuu had changed that, and it had stuck.

"... if you insist, then I am sure Calla will find something," Kell answered, thinking on the debts yet to be repaid. Perhaps he would check on those as well. "But it would be no issue for me to take care of it."

He knew Neria would refuse, but he had to say so. Had to.

A sigh left her as he stood. "I didn't mean for you think it was a bad thing--" she called after him. It was endearing. But the moment came and went, and it was there she realized that Kell's hair was different. She could see both of his eyes clearly now.

The tunic came over her head and Neria smoothed it down as she stood, pushing her hair out of her eyes and beginning to comb it with her fingers into something more presentable.

"I don't want you to feel responsible for me, Kell," she murmured. "I..." She turned to him. "Wouldn't the king and queen know? I don't want it to be--" How could she put it into words? "Wouldn't it cause trouble for you to be seen doing things for a stranger? For a stranger from another world, even?"

Kell turned around a mite too fast, finding Neria smoothing her tunic back into place. Although she'd been fully covered, he found himself flushing, trying to cover it as she turned back to him, already speaking, already asking questions.

Not the time.

"Not likely," he answered, crossing his arms over his chest as if to physically hold everything in check. "It may spark a few whispers if I were to be open about it, but Calla is discreet in her work."

He paused, weighing the words. "You're not the first person from another world she's had dealings with."

Her fingers worked through the tangles in her curls, fashioning her long hair into a pleated braid. Her attention was there for the most part, and so she only saw a pass of red over Kell's face, which she mistook for embarrassment and little else. She was silent, considering his words up to the last, when he clarified she was not the first.

Slowly, she looked up, her fingers stilling in her hair. The first thought she had was all wrong. Who could have come before her? But then, she wondered. Remembered.

"Someone's come here from one of your other Londons?"

Kell turned back to watch her fingers travel over her hair, sorting his thoughts while she followed the lines of logic. He'd found it difficult to mention Lila, though he spoke of Holland and Rhy, and he ran his thumb along the edge of his sleeve with a sigh.

"Yes. Desperate times, calling for desperate measures."

Technically, bringing Lila across was a treason far worse than anything to do with the Stone, but without Lila's help, Kell might not have been able to save what and who he did.

"Though I couldn't say where she is now."

She tried to read into what Kell was not saying just as much as the words he gifted her, looking for the meaning within. Desperate times... Rhy, perhaps, or the kingdom being in jeopardy. Nothing would be more important in this life for Kell. Neria's gaze settled on his face. She considered him in silence for a time.

It wasn't like Kell to be careless. For him to bring someone out of a great need and then to lose track of them wasn't the way he was. Was he pulled to Asora at that time, or was something else happening?

She did not ask. She only wondered, "Do you think she's still here?"

"Who knows with her?" Kell's brow furrowed. "But unless she has far more powers than she let on, it's unlikely she'd be able to leave this world."

... that that didn't much narrow it down.

"The last I saw of her, she was heading towards the ships at the dock, and that was months past, even here."

He didn't seem concerned, but there was something in his eyes as he spoke, a sense of something missed, even if he hadn't mentioned it before.

It didn't narrow it down but it was, again, another concern. Kell had never mentioned this person before and it wasn't simply because it wasn't important. Something else was there. In the pinch of his narrowed eyes, the furrow of his brow, there was a story...and it was painful.

Neria lowered her hands from her braid. She stepped towards Kell and, gently, wound an arm around his own. Her hand slipped into his. She did not know what to say and perhaps there was nothing she could give. Whatever wound was there was something else Kell carried. Neria did not try to take it from him. She only remained there to remind him that she would carry it with him or sit with its weight without fear.

"I won't cause you or Calla any trouble."

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