From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
It wasn't for lack of trying. She got into bed, turned out the lights, and closed her eyes - where the man's face met her, his eyes boring into hers as the life drained from them. And then she would jolt awake, sitting straight up in bed, her chest heaving and her eyes filled with tears. Even when she managed to fall asleep, she would awaken a short time later from nightmares. Sometimes she woke crying. Other times she woke screaming. One night, a passing Dragoon had knocked on her door, concerned by the sound of her shriek. That had almost scared her more than the nightmares. What if he wanted to come in, and her alone and helpless?
After a few days of this, Soh was exhausted and on edge. She'd closed the shop, citing illness, unable to bear the thought of facing clients with her healing injuries, and she'd been alone, save for Tal's visit the day after the attack. It was making her crazy, being alone. Every bump in the night terrified her - what if the man found her, what if he came to her shop, what if she woke one night to find him in her room -
Finally, she could take it no more. She had to get out of Stormbreak, if only for a little while.
But where could she go? Jude traveled between parents, and she didn't really want to let him see her like this, anyway. How could she explain her worst nightmare to her best friend? He'd surely see her differently, and she couldn't bear the thought of him hating her. Tal, too, traveled frequently, and she could hardly invite herself aboard his skyship for an indefinite period of time. And Mateo, kind though he had been, had already done enough for her. Besides, he lived in Stormbreak, and Soh definitely wanted to go anywhere else, at least for a while.
Then it came to her: Harper. Her friendship with Jude meant that she spent a great deal of time around the man, and he'd become somewhat of a father figure to the young woman. Maybe he would let her stay with him for a few days.
So off she went, gathering a few belongings and taking the first skyship to Torchline. She rushed through the streets to Harper's home, her head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone she passed. The swelling around her left eye had gone down, but it was still an ugly, mottled yellow. The cut in her eyebrow was healing slowly; she was fairly sure it was going to scar, but there was nothing she could do about that now. Her split lip was nearly healed, as were the abrasions on her hands, shoulders, and knees.
She arrived at Harper's house after her hurried rush through the streets of Haulani and stood at the door, suddenly hesitant. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. What if Harper blamed her, as she blamed herself? What if he didn't want Jude to be around her anymore? What if she lost everything because coming here was a mistake?
So she stood, arm raised as though to knock, frozen with sudden fear.
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
Life after becoming Hadama's co-lead hadn't changed as much as Harper had anticipated, even in the early days. While the vote itself had been emotionally exhausting to say the least, the region had yet to burn itself to the ground in protest of Harper's inadequacies, so he would consider it a tentative win.
It does make him far busier than normal though, and for once he is privately grateful that Jude is meant to be in the Greatwood with his mother right now so that he doesn't have to witness his father's nerves and adjustments. Though the house is quiet and lonely as always when Jude is away. It never gets any easier, no matter how old Jude gets or how often he goes away. Harper has always been a family man. A man of connections, closeness, both physical and emotional. Loneliness has never much suited him.
It's the silence that has him heading for the door, needing to get out of his own head and busy himself with the needs of people other than himself. He slips his shoes on and opens the door, and startles hard to find somebody on the other side - "Soh?"
It comes out baffled, but his mind is too well-trained in the art of investigation to not immediately take in the old wound on her face, the thin sheen of sweat that denotes anxiety and fear. Immediately his fatherly tendencies rise to the surface, and he gently coaxes her inside with the most minimal amount of touching. "Hey, it's okay. Come inside." He keeps his voice soft and intimate, free of any worry or aggression.
Sohalia was unaware of Harper's change in status, or perhaps she never would have come, too shy to make a nuisance of herself or be a burden upon someone already in the midst of massive upheaval. As it was, it was bad enough to stand on the doorstep, her arm raised to knock, frozen and fearful as her mind played through all of the worst-case scenarios it could conjure. What if he wouldn't let her in? What if she told him what had happened and he kicked her out? What if she never saw Jude again?
In her heart of hearts, she couldn't believe that any of that would happen, but fear does things to a person.
So when the door opened, her heart leaped to her throat and she lowered her hand quickly, ducking her head instinctively as though to hide her injuries from Harper, prepared to make some excuse and leave - but then he was speaking in a calm, reassuring voice, and she peered up at him from beneath her lashes, and something about the fatherly way he ushered her inside was too much for the traumatized young woman. As the door closed behind her, she promptly burst into tears.
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
Harper has beheld so many kinds of trauma that it's nearly habit by now to tuck his shoulders to make himself smaller, soften his voice and make his expression approachable. It's a relief when she wanders inside the doorway without him needing to fully coax her, and he closes the door softly behind her so as not to startle her any further. He is two seconds from removing his shoes or reaching for her bags when she bursts into tears, and all thoughts of making her comfortable first go out the window.
"Oh honey come here," he murmurs, and slowly wraps his arms around her so that she can pull away or keep her distance if she needs. If not, he lifts one hand to gently hold the back of her head, occasionally brushing through her golden hair and rocking them both subtly side to side as he shushes her. "It's okay. You're safe. I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." A gentle stream of assurances that fall endlessly from his lips, each as sincere as the last.
Soh had experienced so little trauma and even less of its aftermath, so this was all new territory for the young woman. Her expectations had been for everyone to treat her as though it was all her fault (it was) and shun her for her crimes, and yet each of her friends had chosen to treat her with kindness and grace. Harper was no different, for all that he didn't know what had happened yet.
She dropped her bag gracelessly on the ground and collapsed against his chest, burying her face in his shirt as she wept.It's not okay, she wanted to shout. It felt as though it would never be okay again. The person she had been no longer existed, and she couldn't get that Sohalia back, no matter how hard she tried. But whatever her thoughts, she was unable to speak through her sobs and unwilling to try, so she let Harper hold her and stroke her hair until, after a while, her tears began to slow and her shuddering breaths began to calm.
"I'm s-sorry," she said in a watery voice, hiccuping slightly as she calmed. "I wasn't - I don't - I just needed to get away from Stormbreak for a while. Can I - can I stay here for a few days?" she asked, her lower lip trembling. "It's fine if I can't, I just - it was the first place I thought of and I - " She couldn't seem to stop herself from rambling. "I just don't want to be alone."
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
Her bag is readily ignored in favor of tending to her instead, rhythmically stroking her hair and leaning his cheek against her crown to mimic a similar feeling of being swaddled. Safe, encompassed, held close and protected in his arms. He continues to rock her side to side, subtle little motions that accompany the steady beating of his heart beneath her ear. When she finally emerges - words choppy and straying - Harper gently loosens his hold but does not drop his arms entirely.
"Of course you can stay," he interjects gently, putting a swift end to her worries. "You are always welcome here. Whether Jude is here or not, whether you need a single night or an entire season. Okay?" He smiles down at her, tender and encouraging. Proud of her for opening up so readily with her emotions even if she had yet to reveal the cause of her distress. It was a promising thing to see from a psychological stance.
"Come on, come sit down." Gently guiding her with his hands to the couch a few steps away, Harper urges her down onto the cushion and immediately drapes the blanket on the back around her shoulders before kneeling in front of her to begin taking off her shoes. "First of all, I'm going to ask you a few really simple questions. Just yes or no, okay?" Something easy and grounding for her to focus on and settle her mind. "Have you eaten or had anything to drink today?" Because, distressed as she is, Harper doesn't trust her begging off food or water if her stomach is unsettled.
His heart beat a steady pace in her ear, and she began counting in time to a count of four, like Mateo had taught her, trying to steady her breathing. She sniffled a bit at his ready acceptance, her lips trembling again. "Thank you," she whispered against his shirt, which, she was embarrassed to note, was wet from her tears.
Harper guided her to the couch and she sat, trembling a little, and welcoming the blanket as it wrapped around her shoulders. She was a little embarrassed as Harper knelt to take off her shoes - she was an adult, and she should be able to take care of herself - but she had to admit that it was kind of nice to be taken care of in this way. He's a really good dad, she thought, and her eyes started to fill again. She'd never really had that for herself, and she'd never really missed it until now.
"Yes," she said in response to his question, her voice quavery and weak. And, even though he'd said yes or no questions, she added, "I had some toast this morning, and some water on the skyship."
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
"You never have to thank me," he reassures as he gets her seated. It's no trouble at all to get her shoes unlaced, and he tucks them neatly inside before setting them at the end of the couch with a small lean sideways. Then he stays at her feet, hands on her knees and squeezing gently with an encouraging smile as she manages a lengthier answer than he'd requested of her. "Good, I'm glad you've had something. I'm going to ask you to eat and drink something, but I won't do it until you're okay with me leaving. Do you understand?" He wouldn't cook anything, would simply grab the leftovers in the fridge and reheat them so he wouldn't be apart from her for long, but by Harper's estimation it wouldn't be this very moment.
Settling himself on his knees comfortably so that she could continue to be taller and more in control of their physical states, the man idly fixes the blanket so it covers more of her lap and then lays his hand palm up for her to take if she needs. "Just a few more questions sweetheart. I see you've got some bruising - does it still hurt right now?" He has bruise ointment and painkillers he can grab with the food if needed, but he'd like to do it all in one trip when it comes down to it.
Harper took off her shoes and set them aside, and Soh wiped gently at the silent tears still coursing down her cheeks. She felt like a child again, and it wasn't an entirely unwelcome sensation, even if she did feel like she should be better than this. Stronger. More able to take care of herself. "I understand," she whispered, tangling her hands in her blanket and pulling it more tightly around herself. It was nice, having something around her shoulders, as though the pressure of the blanket would help to hold her together. Gods knew she wasn't going to be able to do it on her own.
Harper was on his knees before her, and she immediately felt bad - he had to be uncomfortable, but he was putting that aside to make sure that she was okay. She looked down as he adjusted the blanket, biting her lip and wishing that she hadn't come. She was such an inconvenience. She should have just asked Mateo for more calming tea, locked herself in her shop, and waited for this to pass.
Except it wasn't going to pass, was it?
Her hand untangled from the blanket to reach up to her eye self-consciously. "N-not really." It wasn't even a lie - or at least not much of one. "Maybe a little." But only when she bumped against it with her hand, which was, admittedly, more often than not. She had never realized how much she touched her face before she'd had to try so hard not to. She dropped her hand to grasp Harper's, holding on as though she might never let go.
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
He can tell that her mind is returning to her in the wake of her crying, and not in the way he would hope. It's not unexpected, but she is young and has yet to learn how to shield her emotions showing so plainly on her face. In some ways, it's a relief - it makes her easy to read. Being easy to read means he can attend to her needs faster.
Catching how she reflexively reaches for the injury, Harper waits until her hand drops to his and holds tight with clear desperation behind her strength - and then he squeezes back, his own heavily scarred and calloused hand firm around her fingers. He leans in slightly to try and catch her eye. "Hey, you're doing great sweetheart. I'm proud of you." Proud of her for being brave enough to come and show up at his door, aware he could have turned her away. Proud of her for being so open and vulnerable and willing to answer his questions. She is a wonderful girl, and he couldn't have picked a better best friend for Jude - whatever happened, she didn't deserve it.
"You don't have to tell me what happened. Now, later, or ever. But I do need to know - are you currently safe?" Not being chased or otherwise stalked, as he would more than happily take care of that for her - especially if they had the gall to show up at his door.
Soh was, both fortunately and unfortunately, an open book. On the one hand, it meant that she was easy to read, as Harper was finding. On the other hand, it meant that she was easy to ready, which Soh did not always appreciate. Just now, for example, she would rather have been able to take a deep breath, explain her discomfort and injuries in a mature, adult way, and go about her business. But that wasn't her way. For all that she was 18, she was still a child, particularly in light of Harper's years and experience.
Her eyes filled once more at his praise. She couldn't remember the last time someone had told her they were proud of her - if ever - and for it to come from her best friend's father made it mean all the more. Her parents had died when she was so young, and Auden had tried their best, but they had been gruff at the best of times. Hearing it now made something deep inside her come undone, and she struggled to hold back tears as years of emotion tumbled to the forefront of her mind.
"I don't - I don't know," she choked out. And it was the truth - for all she knew, the man who had attacked her may figure out who she was, where she worked, where she lived - after all, her name was on the gods-cursed sign! And even if she never saw the man again, she still didn't feel safe. But she didn't know where to start with her story, so she just looked at her and Harper's intertwined hands miserably, wanting to tell him everything but afraid that if she started, she might begin crying again and this time never stop.
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
Whether it was his words or some memory he can't discern, but he can tell that what little foundation she has remaining is crumbling and giving way before his very eyes. The lack of surety is concerning, but Harper can work with it - he will work with it. Whatever he can do to make her feel more comfortable.
"Okay. That's okay - it's a good start. And regardless of what's out there -" here he tilts his chin towards the front door, eyes never leaving her face, "- in here, you are completely safe. I promise you that." He squeezes her hand, the free one coming up to curl around any remaining skin showing to clasp her singular hand between both of his own. "Nobody can hurt you with me around." He keeps it simple for her to digest, because it's a gross understatement of his abilities, but it's clear to Harper that she is feeling very young and vulnerable right now. She needs the comfort of a parent, not a breakdown of skills and achievements.
"How about I go get you that food, huh? Do you like tea?" It's a clever return to the yes and no questions slipped in for her, hoping to get more calories in her than toast and water could provide even if they were liquid nutrients at best.
Holding herself together - it was hard. Nobody had ever warned her just how difficult life could be sometimes, how the very notion of putting one foot in front of the other could feel monumental at best, impossible at worst. And right now, it was teetering dangerously close to impossible. It was a nasty spiral, the inner workings of Sohalia's mind, twisted and frayed as it was like a rope about to snap. And here she was, holding on for dear life, clinging to Harper's hand in a desperate attempt to stay grounded in the present.
At the mention of what was out there - beyond the safety of the door, past the safety of Torchline, back in the streets of Stormbreak, deep within that alley - Soh shivered slightly, perhaps unnoticeable but for the tremor in the hand that Harper had so kindly wrapped up in his own. She nodded, meeting his eyes tearfully, trusting his word that he could protect her, if it came down to it, secure in that fact and in that she had come so far away from the perceived danger.
When he mentioned food, she nodded again, if only to give herself something to do other than sit in silence. "Yes," she said with regard to tea. It was the one thing that had managed to calm her nerves in the days since The Incident. Of course, tea at home had included a little of the calming drugs that Mateo had sent her home with, but she didn't feel the need to mention that. "Can... can I come?" she asked hesitantly, not wanting to be alone but not wanting to be a nuisance.
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
He wishes he could give her more in this moment, but some things must take time and careful treading. If he could fix it all for her with a wave of his hand he would do it. Instead, he is left with good intentions and gentle hands, the only things he can give her. It is the burden of parenthood to be left helpless in the face of misery you would rather take onto yourself, and though she is not his daughter by blood he feels the same way.
Her hesitance is met with a warm smile. "Of course you can. Bring your blanket okay?" Standing (and ignoring the slight creak in his knees) he uses her hand to help her up off the couch, and doesn't let it go as he guides her into the kitchen, talking all the while. "Now we've got a few options but I'll keep it simple. For food, would you rather have a sandwich or leftover pasta?" He opens the fridge so she can peer into it, pointing out the pasta in question so she can determine if she doesn't like any of the ingredients she can pick out visually. As she does, he leans over to the stove beside the fridge to set the kettle to start boiling, already full of water for his own frequent consumption of it. "And for tea, I have chamomile or fennel." Intentionally offering the two best known for managing anxiety naturally. Whatever leverage he has he will happily utilize to her benefit.
