I could take all that you love, I could be death from above
In the absence of her rage, Nate's rises to take its place, and this time she is the rock to keep him grounded as she curls inside his arms. Sunjata's silence is an echoing damnation. Hotaru had known his lack of trust would lead to problems eventually when they'd had their own fight on the balcony during LongNight, but she hadn't known it would be a problem this enormous. If there had been time, if he hadn't run right off to Safrin immediately after they both returned home, maybe she would have brought it up to Nate. There's no way of knowing now.
Needles run down her spine at the resounding silence when Nate asks what Sunjata would do if the Old Gods lost. Does he have nothing to say? Is his faith in Safrin so strong he can't even fathom it? Or is there a far more sinister mindset laying beneath, a prejudice that persists even with Nate so deeply embedded in his heart? Not knowing why he doesn't answer does nothing but aggravate all the questions in her head, spiking pain in the base of her skull where a tension headache begins to build. Hotaru doesn't want to think him capable of that. In the wake of this disaster, she nevertheless can't help the doubt.
The kiss to her hair distracts her from that spiral, and she can't help but agree with Nate's declaration even if it means suffering through this for potentially hours more. Maybe she can bear it if he keeps her in his arms. A rock as much as a restraint. Hotaru feels all the more selfish for it and can only hope that somehow she is returning the favor, letting him know with her presence alone that though there has been a line drawn in the sand, he is not alone on his side of it. Hotaru nods her consent against his throat. "Just don't let go," she whispers. Terrified that if he does, that rage will return, and Safrin herself will have to intervene to stop her from making Sunjata feel the pain he has forced upon them.
Turning red eyes over her shoulder, she stares at Sunjata where he sits crumpled on the floor. The twinge of pity - and it is pity, she is incapable of feeling true sympathy - is an unwelcome addition to her heart, but her love for him cannot evaporate so easily. So instead, she takes up where Nate leaves off, with the necessary breaking down of the situation if they ever have hope of gathering the rubble together. "You stole any chance I had of being their mother. I can't forgive you that." It's an emotionally strained declaration. Just to emphasize her agreement that forgiveness is certainly not in the cards. Whether she will have the strength to still be a mother to the child - whether this relationship will even still exist in the same way for her to be there in an active enough role to try - is something that is implied. But she is not so cruel as to leave it there. "Nate can't change back any more than this child can't be born from her hands. So where does that leave us? If the deal is voided by Nate being a demigod, then you raise the child regardless; that relinquishes her from her side." Not that it leaves them much better off. "But now you're stuck as a soldier on her side. We need to know exactly how active of a role she has made you promise to play before we can even figure out where...where we fall." Her voice cracks there, but she soldiers on valiantly, emotions locked down tight so that there is only the chill of her tone and the implacable motionless of her features for him to take note of.
Needles run down her spine at the resounding silence when Nate asks what Sunjata would do if the Old Gods lost. Does he have nothing to say? Is his faith in Safrin so strong he can't even fathom it? Or is there a far more sinister mindset laying beneath, a prejudice that persists even with Nate so deeply embedded in his heart? Not knowing why he doesn't answer does nothing but aggravate all the questions in her head, spiking pain in the base of her skull where a tension headache begins to build. Hotaru doesn't want to think him capable of that. In the wake of this disaster, she nevertheless can't help the doubt.
The kiss to her hair distracts her from that spiral, and she can't help but agree with Nate's declaration even if it means suffering through this for potentially hours more. Maybe she can bear it if he keeps her in his arms. A rock as much as a restraint. Hotaru feels all the more selfish for it and can only hope that somehow she is returning the favor, letting him know with her presence alone that though there has been a line drawn in the sand, he is not alone on his side of it. Hotaru nods her consent against his throat. "Just don't let go," she whispers. Terrified that if he does, that rage will return, and Safrin herself will have to intervene to stop her from making Sunjata feel the pain he has forced upon them.
Turning red eyes over her shoulder, she stares at Sunjata where he sits crumpled on the floor. The twinge of pity - and it is pity, she is incapable of feeling true sympathy - is an unwelcome addition to her heart, but her love for him cannot evaporate so easily. So instead, she takes up where Nate leaves off, with the necessary breaking down of the situation if they ever have hope of gathering the rubble together. "You stole any chance I had of being their mother. I can't forgive you that." It's an emotionally strained declaration. Just to emphasize her agreement that forgiveness is certainly not in the cards. Whether she will have the strength to still be a mother to the child - whether this relationship will even still exist in the same way for her to be there in an active enough role to try - is something that is implied. But she is not so cruel as to leave it there. "Nate can't change back any more than this child can't be born from her hands. So where does that leave us? If the deal is voided by Nate being a demigod, then you raise the child regardless; that relinquishes her from her side." Not that it leaves them much better off. "But now you're stuck as a soldier on her side. We need to know exactly how active of a role she has made you promise to play before we can even figure out where...where we fall." Her voice cracks there, but she soldiers on valiantly, emotions locked down tight so that there is only the chill of her tone and the implacable motionless of her features for him to take note of.
HOTARU
