everything you want is on the other side of fear
And there it is: her darkest sins laid bare. I'm in love with an Ascended. I helped free the Voice. I failed again and again and again, and others paid with their lives. And now Sera can hate her the way she deserves to be hated, can treat her with the cruelty she so justly deserves. Now she can be thrown out of Stormbreak, stripped of her wings, and everyone will realize what a terrible mistake they've made, laugh about it around the warmth of their confidence while she huddles alone in the cold.
Sera moves against her and Amalia stiffens, ready for the inevitable abandonment, for the girl to pull away. But no- the Artificer is moving closer, her voice a soothing balm on her hazy mind. The first part means nothing - she's heard it all before - but the second? Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the weight of everything she's endured today, but the words strike Amalia differently than they ever have before, flicking a switch and shining a light on the darkest recess of her mind. All at once the girl changes, relaxes, because all at once it all makes sense. Vi chose her, believed in her. She isn't broken, she's just been fooled.
It;s like a weight is lifted. Amalia leans into Sera, her wing settling on the other woman in a warm embrace instead of passive presence. Her red-rimmed eyes are still swimming with tears when she turns to face the Artificer, but they're warmer now, hopeful and sweet and bright with fire above the ghost of a shy smile. "You mean it, Sera?" Amalia wonders with all the innocent faith of the broken, or the drunk. "You believe in me? You think I can... I can still be good?"
Sera moves against her and Amalia stiffens, ready for the inevitable abandonment, for the girl to pull away. But no- the Artificer is moving closer, her voice a soothing balm on her hazy mind. The first part means nothing - she's heard it all before - but the second? Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the weight of everything she's endured today, but the words strike Amalia differently than they ever have before, flicking a switch and shining a light on the darkest recess of her mind. All at once the girl changes, relaxes, because all at once it all makes sense. Vi chose her, believed in her. She isn't broken, she's just been fooled.
It;s like a weight is lifted. Amalia leans into Sera, her wing settling on the other woman in a warm embrace instead of passive presence. Her red-rimmed eyes are still swimming with tears when she turns to face the Artificer, but they're warmer now, hopeful and sweet and bright with fire above the ghost of a shy smile. "You mean it, Sera?" Amalia wonders with all the innocent faith of the broken, or the drunk. "You believe in me? You think I can... I can still be good?"
Amalia
