love bites so deep

BASTIEN

you'll never settle any of your scores
your grace is wasted in your face

Bastien was recounting the bricks in his cell wall (182) in the middle of his third day, bored out of his mind. He'd been in the cells the longest of anyone now, and he'd seen some people come and go; the arrests didn't seem consistent. Some arrested for very minor breaking of the rules and despairing their free friends who had loudly objected the regime, some guilty of more major crimes that seemed sure they'd get out soon.

He supposed it could be a tactic. Confuse the people, make them unsure what was a transgression so they were scared into hardly doing anything at all. It was a tactic he'd only read about in books before...to see it potentially in real life was terrifying.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to really feel the terror, not when he was so worried about Rexanna. She was powerful, he knew that, but she was also determined and more vulnerable to attack than she realised. As hours ticked by with no more news from her, his imagination cooked up more and more ways she could have been hurt, tricked, exiled. He would have preferred to even see her arrested to the silence; that way he could make a plan.

Finally, he heard her voice. Immediately standing, he stepped towards her -- then stopped. Something was wrong. Perhaps not obviously, not to anyone else...but her eyes, her stance. Bastien knew something had happened just from the way she held her hands. But this wasn't the place to discuss it, not yet, so he closed the distance between them and took her hand. "Thank you, mi amore. Shall we go to my home and rest together for an evening? You look as if you could use some sleep."

your boldness stands alone
among the wreck