HOTARU
Even as her tears slow, there is a mending of the myriad of holes in her heart. It cannot ever fix the loss she has suffered, her entire life swept away in darkness and her family lost to her. But here, now, with Rexanna pressing her face into her neck and cool tears kissing against her skin, there is recovery. Fate has deigned to return at least one beloved member of her family to her side, and that is better than the empty nothingness she had before. A part of her files away her questions, her incessant queries, about the appearance of her best friend. She could have been bald and deformed and sightless and Hotaru would take her as she was, because she loved Rexanna wholly. The what and who and how don't matter, not here and not now. They cling to each other's hand as they sit. A tether, an unwillingness to part after so long without the other. If there is any benefit to this new, strange body, it is that she can hold her friend so much closer than before. She can see an entire world of emotion in her face, feel the curves of their bodies align as they hug, and for one so tactile as Hotaru it is a blessing.
They wipe their tears in tandem. There is no other around to impress with their composure, and Hotaru is all but meaningless in this new land, but old habits die hard. She is pulled easily into a new hug, and Hotaru sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Her emotions feel less like a hurricane now, uncontrollable and fierce. Rexanna had always symbolized peace and joy, and even now her presence calms and centers the deposed Valkyrie.
Her eyes lift to the taller woman's eyes, feeling lost and childlike with how she hangs on every word. Rexanna's words are like freezing water slipping down her throat into her belly, hope rearing its wild head. How many others? Who? A viperous thought curls in her mind, whispering that she must ask after her children, her family. The temptation is strong, but she can't bring herself to shape the words. To hear a denial would break her. It was better to imagine them at their father's side in the Rift, safe and happy, rather than to curse them with having been ripped away and left wandering as she had.
Deimos.
Her breast seizes with the name, and she looks wildly up at Rexanna, blood hot and sparking. It's impossible, she had seen him dead in the rain with her own eyes, had mourned him and stood vigil all night alone in her ruling of the kingdom. He had been her mentor, her equal, her tentative but sincere friend. Alive?
"Deimos?" she breathes, voice cracking. "He's alive? He's here?" The words fumble uselessly from her mouth, emotions swelling confusingly once more. "I...you must take me to him Rex, I have to see him, please," she begs, grasping her friend's hands once more.
it's our nature, we destroy
it's the constant of our kind
no matter the color of blood, man will always fall
