{se} this little light

Evie

You thrill me, you delight me
You're all that I've been yearning for

While Evie had sent along her curated blends for both Flora and Sunjata, she remains restless and ill-at-ease. It had been difficult to reply to Hadama’s letter in the way she had. Evie has outgrown her bluster and girlish grudges, but she nevertheless wears her heart on her sleeve, and finding a middle ground between her overwhelming emotions and consideration for their friendship had been hard. Particularly because the level of their friendship had made the perceived betrayal all the harder to swallow.

It would be easy to wallow. Instead - safe at home and with Erebos napping slung to her chest at the kitchen table - Evie wants to focus on her gratitude instead. The tea blends had been quickly crafted for the sake of sending letters. It’s also fair to assume she doesn’t need to express herself a second time with further gifts. That doesn’t mean she won’t; working with the dried components is soothing unto itself anyway, so even if these gifts never find their intended recipients, it means something.

There are plenty of places to lay Erebos down, but holding him close is as far as she can stand to have him. She even wears a comfortable bandeau and no other top so she can feel his skin against hers as a reminder of his safety the way she’d done when he’d first been born. Measuring a small spoonful of chamomile buds, she pours it into one of the two bags (meant for Sunjata) and drops a distracted kiss onto Erebos’ head.

I love you, I adore you - I lay my life before you
I only want you more and more

Halo meant a return to sanctity and shelter, to normalcy, to routine, to duties and responsibilities he knew and understood well. From fights amidst the barracks, to letters scrawled and missives read, to simply remaining in the icy proportions meant a great deal to his tired and restless soul. A way to recover from the hindrances of days already past, icy balms and warm fires and something understood, rather than the heavy weight of the world pressing around them.

So it was with a fond smile that he opened the door to their home and saw Evie and Erebos both tucked, safely and ensconced, at the kitchen table. Hanging up his coat and bag, with several hidden things within, he made his way over to the pair, placing his mouth upon the Evergreen’s crimson crown. “Hello,” he whispered, careful not to disturb their son in the midst of his nap. Taking the opportunity for what it was, and avoiding the latest discussion (for now) he’d had with a potent irritant, he simply pulled a chair across from her, and settled his arms upon the solid wooden surface, jaw resting on his forearms. An ease, a relaxation, a way to unwind, no masks or pretenses, no dread carved in the notches of his spine.

A careful perusal and study was had, eyes carefully following the movements of her hands, for he recognized the blending process, but not the particular, chosen buds. “What are you making today?”

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

Evie

You thrill me, you delight me
You're all that I've been yearning for

Evie often muses, comically, over how desperately she had desired to know the world beyond the barrier that had kept her world so small from the moment she was born. Right now, she never wants to know anything beyond the daily routines of Halo’s people and the icy reaches that define her borders. Preferably nothing beyond the walls of this house.

Luckily Deimos is an expected addition to those shrinking borders, and she smiles to herself as he drops a kiss into her hair, pausing in her efforts to simply watch him for a moment as he takes up a chair across from her. Though she doesn’t want to dwell on the anxiety inducing events of the recent meeting, it undeniably has inspired her to be grateful for their combined safety and the opportunity to see many more of these little moments.

“I’m using the base I had for Sunjata to make a blend for Dantalion. I know you were able to see him, but I don’t want to be accused of favoritism when dealing with leaders.” The habitual scrunch of her nose makes it clear she’s joking. Still, she wants to thank Danta herself, and this is the only way she knows how that can truly come from the heart. “Though I think he’d prefer just the alcohol.” A hint of a grin plays at the edge of her lips, amused that all three of the leaders likely felt that way - or would, once she finished this.

I love you, I adore you - I lay my life before you
I only want you more and more

The range of Caido could encompass an entirety of things - from the wonderful to the ruthless, and at the moment Deimos didn’t particularly care for anything other than the world they’d carved out for themselves. Not wholly out of place, his head tilted from where he rested it, looking boyish and tired in the same magnitude; a result of the past few days and all the onslaughts accompanying them. “Have I told you how grateful I am for the lives we have built?” For themselves, for Halo, for their family, for tight-knit communities who didn’t grandstand or bite off more than they could chew, for understanding and love and devotion in waves and ways beyond measures.

There was something to be said for the peace and salvation they had - a return to normalcy, a refuge out of the audacity. He regretted even bringing up the next words, but they needed to be spoken, given the context of recent letters to Hadama. “I saw Maea in Stormbreak.”

His eyes went back to the blend, smiling and snorting a little simultaneously, trying to find the humor again. “Probably. You can always give him some of that as well.”

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

Evie

You thrill me, you delight me
You're all that I've been yearning for

Evie’s grin softens, and her newly empty hands come to rub idly at Erebos’ back. “Not recently, but I’ll never tire of hearing it.” Not only for the way it inspires emotion in her chest to see him so deservedly happy, but for the way it resonates with her own gratitude at a perfect frequency. The table isn’t very wide, so she extends one socked foot to brush against his leg as some measure of physical connection. “I’m grateful for all of it. You, our family, our people…the Grounds was eye-opening to say the least.” Only serving to reinforce her fierce appreciation for the way their personal and professional lives have played out.

For a moment her jaw stiffens and her hands come away from Erebos to lay flat against the tabletop, the spaces around her nail beds tellingly ivory. “And?” She says no more. There is nothing she can think to say that hasn’t already been stuffed down in previous days, reluctant to voice what she knows is only based on emotion. Not that it makes those claims and decisions any less valid, but Evie has learned patience through grit and determination alone. It’s not a virtue she’ll sacrifice lightly.

Sniffing the equivalent of a laugh, she picks up the measuring spoon and twirls it idly in her fingers. “I certainly will. I’m thinking of making his blend spicier, instead of herbal.” Perhaps presumptuous given it’s based on his race alone, but Evie feels optimistic about it.

I love you, I adore you - I lay my life before you
I only want you more and more

Something like guilt tightened at the response, but a play of reassurance seemed to slide from her foot, so he stifled the immediate dread. He wouldn’t want the sentiments to go absent-minded in lieu of every other gods forsaken thing that had occurred over this season or the last. Maybe their recent experiences merely heightened the weight and magnitude of their devotions, because he couldn’t fathom not having the strength of support, love, and fortitude from the surrounding world nowadays. His eyes flickered back to hers, and he shoved himself upright once again, content to simply watch the two of them from across the table; knowing, for that instant, they were all safe and whole. “Makes me all the more appreciative,” and he winked, allowing for the lightest wrinkle of his nose before casting other things.

And he knew how difficult it’d been for Evie to re-establish those age-old ties with Maea, but he also couldn’t let the ridiculous words settle into the world without some manner of consequence. So while he regretted watching her features turn, he’d rather extend everything in the open, then let it all simmer into the void and spill apart later. “She apologized for jeopardizing Erebos and leaving, but nothing else.” His gaze cast back to the windows, watching a swirl of snow pilfer by, memories snagging and segmenting. “I reminded her that she endangered every single person in that room, and she did not seem to care. Said we should have fought back, like her.” Snorting at the audacity, and rampant stupidity, he let that settle, presuming it would ignite the Evergreen, just as it had done to him.

Spice over herbal tendencies sounded like Danta, and he snorted again. “Likely preferable as well. Worth a try. I am certain he would tell us if he did not care for it.”

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

Evie

You thrill me, you delight me
You're all that I've been yearning for

There’s no need for guilt, and her smile reassures as readily as the gentle touch beneath the table. There is a special privilege in life improving so much that the constant, low-level vigilance begins to ease. It doesn’t make them less grateful, merely shifts the focus from active to passive. His wink makes her laugh (softly, in deference to Erebos) and shake her head fondly. “Me too. It seems fitting that the Ancients are making it their home given the region has been chaotic for years.” Dygra’s children seem perfectly primed to capitalize on it instead of suffering beneath it. “They can keep it,” she teases back; the region and the chaos both.

It may be difficult to hear, but Evie has always appreciated that Deimos never hides these things from her and refuses to even sit on the matter in vain hopes of a ‘better time’. She doesn’t speak for a long while, spinning the handle of the spoon and watching the light shift across its surface. There is plenty to ignite over and yet she can’t seem to. Evie isn’t sure if it will come in time or if the hurt is a deeper sort, the kind to curl around and hide from the world instead of exploding over. “There’s so much wrong in both statements I don’t even know where to start,” she murmurs, tone bitter. Her lips twist into a cruel facsimile of a smile as her eyes lift to her husband. “I suppose only children can be jeopardized, the rest must go to war at anyone’s heed. And, of course, the only loss for you would have been your child, not his mother.” Did she feel so strongly about throwing themselves into the fire that she could not even apologize for Evie being endangered? Not even in private and to Deimos’ face? It’s a sour stone in her gut to know Maea had not even breathed Evie’s name amidst apologies and meager accountability. Maybe it’s ironic justice to compensate for Evie’s girlhood torture of the woman, but it hurts that this comes on the heels of what she had believed to be shared efforts to become sincere friends.

I love you, I adore you - I lay my life before you
I only want you more and more

Perhaps they had maneuvered into such transitions that the vigilance wasn’t as keen, but Deimos didn’t want it forgotten either. Instead of fumbling into those pits or despairs, however, he had some intention of improving the situation, once they wound their way out of the murk and mire of Maea’s recent actions and atrocities. For what it was worth, Deimos thought the Ancients well suited to the Grounds as well; they were the ones who wanted it, nurtured it, guided it into their facets and fashions, without the harshness of the Voice holding her might and disdain from across the void. “Despite recent events, it is nice to see it flourish again.” And while they might not be able to get their minds out of those haunting ventures, others would, and could; permitting it to thrive once again.

Maea was not of the same flourishing or prospering refrain; in fact, his opinion of her had gone even lower in her striving of Ambassador, and firebrand, roles. His words, and unfortunate experience, seemed to kindle a long pause in Evie’s thoughts, and he took to watching Erebos’s soft rise and fall of his chest, or the floating portions of greenery, watching and waiting for the response; he wasn’t surprised by the bitterness to follow. The harsher inflections weren’t something new to him - he’d had all the same thoughts and calculations within the farce of a meeting and beyond. “Apparently we should have all been catering to Maea’s cause and sacrificed ourselves for a worthless meeting,” instead of ensuring their lives weren’t forfeit due to her rampant stupidity. Evie would know she and their son had been the first and foremost on his mind. “She seemed adamant on holding no accountability for her actions. Thought we all had groveled. A broad assumption, when she had not been there to witness anything.” He shrugged, believing the next line would at least offer some aid in all of this; but then again, he hadn’t been friends with this cretin. Maea was much easier to dismiss on his end. “Danta already dismissed her from the council.”

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

Evie

You thrill me, you delight me
You're all that I've been yearning for

Evie isn’t sure she agrees, and merely hums in response. Some days she definitely feels a sense of peace and closure knowing that the Grounds are thriving even if at the cost of being almost unrecognizable. Other days, she wishes it had dissolved into the sea and been lost forever, a skeleton best left in a closet. It’s why she still has a hard time visiting and she knows that will likely never change.

Expression still distant and twisted with hurt, Evie exhales in a burst of bitter laughter. “Maea’s thinking has always been black and white, for better or worse.” It feels like her mother is talking through her, a trapped rat playing pretend at aristocracy, using superior education and supposedly superior breeding to cut people down without resorting to crassness and emotion. It feels horrible, but her mother had been right - it makes the hurt feel further away, like this isn’t personal anymore. At least this revulsion is familiar, a practiced sort of sickness that sits heavy in her stomach instead of her heart. “She probably can’t admit it would have been an empty sacrifice, because that would break the logic of her adamance that the only thing that matters about having morals is the performative part.” Maea had always been the feeble but ever present voice of rigidity in their youth for nearly all contentious topics; Abandoned, the Spire, the Voice, the fall of the barrier.

Evie had always been torn between grudging admiration and exasperation for Maea’s preoccupation with morality, especially given Maea had been so utterly fragile back then. Back then she’d thought it was stupid sure but she also thought it was brave. Evie isn’t sure any admiration remains now - she can only see the threat it poses. The cold reality is that the insular, social-economy structure of the Grounds had taught Maea to expect leniency for her behavior when they were really just dismissing her. Dahlia had been dismissing her too; the crucial difference is that the Reaper’s version of dismissal is the fatal kind. A fate that could have been extended to all of them on a whim, guilty by association they wouldn’t have even been granted the opportunity to dispute.

“Maybe it’s her predisposition with never getting to choose the way she dies or how she’s remembered. Maybe she truly doesn’t care about widespread impact. Maybe turning the other cheek is more terrifying than death for her.” She’s died enough times that she must be the authority on which is worse, right? So surely it grants her the power to make the choice for everyone else. It’s a thought too bitter to let slip, burning her tongue and threatening to break past her thin veneer of emotional detachment from it all.

Evie shrugs, but her eyes never leave the shifting light as the metal spins and spins and spins. “Maybe I don’t know her at all.” And maybe she shouldn’t be hurting, if that’s true. But she is. She is, and she feels unbearably foolish for having hoped so sincerely for friendship that she had eagerly opened the defenses that might have prevented the hurt from reaching this deep.

Curled beneath the dining chair, Micah leans his cheek against her ankle, his wordless consciousness reaching for her and pulling her up from wherever she had gone. Taking a deep breath as she finds herself back in her body all at once, Evie extends the measuring spoon toward Deimos to distract from her own struggling. Her smile is reserved, but at least it’s genuine. Some people do change, and Evie refuses to let her mother’s ghost - or Maea’s - take any more time from an afternoon meant for gratitude and peace. “Want to help me? The second one can be for Kiada.” A general gift, but also free data on whether spiced tea might appeal to Ancients at large, though she hopefully won’t be opening a tea shop until she’s properly old and grey.

I love you, I adore you - I lay my life before you
I only want you more and more

The Hollowed Grounds was its own world of ghosts, and while he hadn’t meant to subject her to the sinister processes all over again, when discussing Maea, it seemed an inevitable slot to wind up where they’d all started. So he grew quiet, listening as tea was strained, eyes flickering back and forth to watch the reactions, to hear the reflections. He had no argument for it; the sacrifices would’ve been empty and just that – leaving the regions wide open for takeover. “I mentioned it would have made our situations much worse – if every leader was to be eradicated at that particular meeting.” But that hadn’t seemed to matter either; making her sound even more erratic and idiotic.

Performative morals weren’t a foreign figment – but he’d seen it firsthand before. Even more so now with Maea and her antics and displays, only to turn tail when the opportunity was immediately presented to her. The options on death amidst all the distinction gave him pause. He hadn’t chosen a way to meet his demise either, but hadn’t let it color his actions the way the Ancient’s seemed to grant her every vivid hue for every vivid moment. “An act? To seem important? To have control?” He mused in return, a shrug of his shoulder bending through the tightening of his frame. The other note made him hang his head, eyes going towards the darkened oak of their table, of the way the words had shifted sentiments and platitudes and surroundings. Not what he’d intended, but the question still lingered. “Will you bother with seeing her again?” As a friend? As an enemy? As anything in between – or taking the alternative of completely ignoring the woman again?

But then they seem to both be struggling to find purchase after the whirlwind, and he took the spoon waving towards his face; striving to place his own grin back on. Because he didn’t want her to lose those she’d tried to gain – but gods, after such performances…his nose wrinkled, taking the silver piece and beginning to concoct his own thoughts on blends for Kiada. “Sure. Show me what to do?”

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul