firing across the sky [OPEN]

Trigger warnings: talk of suicide

a s h e The temple was still and quiet in the late hours of the night, only the sound of heavy rain outside and the occasional shuffle of feet sounding. Silvery-blue light flashed through dust motes from the vaulted windows when lightning cracked, yellow illuminating everything below with the glow  of torches and candles alike. From her vantage point, she could perfectly see the shrine, the staircase that led down to her mother’s tavern, the way that led to the infirmary. She’d have to give this place a good sniff-around one of these days, really investigate it… but for now, the assassin remained upon the rafter high above the ground, staring out the window positioned near the ceiling. She watched the rain batter the panes, and she blinked slowly when thunder rumbled. Lightning followed a moment later, and the raven-haired girl took a deep breath with it, magic singing in her blood. She was dripping wet still, having raced through the rain in the furs of a wolf and leaving herself thoroughly soaked. The temple had seemed a warm and inviting place to spend the evening when she’d finally slowed down her running, finally regained some sense of self. It hadn’t taken her long to climb her way up to the vaulted ceilings and find herself a comfortable place in the rafters, leaning back against one with her legs stretched out in front of her.. And she now had a bottle of wine tipped back, already half gone. Ashe licked the tartness of it from her lips as she lowered it back down to her lap, letting it settle comfortably in her chest, sinking down an suffusing through her with a tingling warmth. One might argue that it wasn’t wise to be drinking while lounging in the rafters very, very high up, but she had little care, little worry. She only leaned her head back against the beam behind her, fire-blue eyes staring dully at the storm outside. Lightning cracked, and she took another long and slow breath. Ashe glanced down at the bottle of red wine, raising it to inspect its contents. That little spider wouldn’t have been bad company just then. She could share a drink with the little beast and and feel a little bit less lonely without actually having to be around anyone. She frowned and lifted the bottle back to her lips, tipping back the bitter wine that burned her nose in its strength. Stupid, drunk little spider probably would have loved it. Lightning snapped again, thunder rumbling in its wake, and Ashe thought of the last time she had stood outside in the middle of a storm. Balanced. That’s what she had felt for the first time in a long time. The feeling had vanished with the storm however, and she had never found it again. Tonight, sprinting through the rain on four paws, she had not found any balance. No peace. The assassin slowly and deliberately expelled the air from her lungs as she reached back and pulled up the hood of her rich blue cloak, covering her soaking wet hair, and she drew it closely around herself. It was wet, of course, so even drawing it around herself and her soaked-through training clothes wasn’t enough to stave off the shivers of cold. Alcohol, however, would definitely to the trick. She took another pull from the bottle before wiping her mouth with the back of a scarred hand, her eyes snapping up at another flash of lightning. Her own magic was humming in response, blue and gold veins of electricity flickering along moon-pale skin and within black hair. She glanced below her then, wondering if anyone would notice the tiny flicks of light high up in the shadowed ceiling. She was confident no one would look for her up there… Until movement shadowed at the edge of her vision, and her head snapped around to the source, eyes sharp and her free hand already gripping the hilt of Reckoning where it rested in her lap.

A slow breath was drawn as he relaxed on the roof of his claimed house in the middle of the storm. Storms were always so peaceful, capable of calming the soul when it was the most disturbed. He was just thankful that he had made his coat waterproof back in Northaven. His magic was different here and he found it endlessly frustrating. No quick fixes to scrapes, no altering the flavor of a drab meal… Gods, and no silk sheets. That might have been the worst part for the assassin. Kalt had seen Ashe heading towards the Temple a little earlier, but he wasn’t quite ready to go after her. Instead, he went inside and took a newly rolled cigar, tucking it into his jacket and taking hold of his lantern. Putting his hood back up, he walked out of the house, following her path to the Temple. The man stepped inside, briefly shaking the water off of his jacket, similar to the way a dog – or a wolf – would get dry after being bathed. He narrowed his eyes up to the rafters, the first spot he would look for Ashe. They were the same in that they liked high places, usually to avoid the company of others. However, that didn’t mean the efforts were always successful. Today, not so much. He opened the lantern and put the cigar in his mouth, puffing a few times to light the thing, before closing the lantern and setting it down on the floor. Kalt shrugged off his jacket and laid it over a seat, then flickered his gaze up to her when she gripped the blade he made for her. Small bit of satisfaction that he always got when seeing her with it. With the cigar gripped gently between his teeth, Kalt started climbing the building until he eventually made it up to the rafters where Ashe was nesting. He leaned against the wall, bending one leg at the knee and letting the other dangle off of the side of the rafter. He took a puff of the cigar, blowing smoke into the air and savoring the taste. ”You never could handle your alcohol,” he muttered with the cigar hanging between his fingers. ”What makes you think drinking when a fall from this height means decent injury is even close to a good idea?” He knew she didn’t care. He didn’t care that he knew she didn’t care. It wasn’t her job to care yet. Until she started again, he would be absolutely fine with caring for her for the both of them. Ashetta kalt give into the night.

a s h e Kalt. Of course it was Kalt. Ashe scowled at his back as he climbed, and the smell of a cigar hit her nose as she leaned back against the beam behind her once more. Her eyes tracked him as he followed a similar path she had, and she let out a heavy huff of air, finally flicking her eyes back to the rain-battered window as he lifted himself to the other side of where she sat. She pretended to ignore him as he settled comfortably against the wall, cigar smoke catching the flash of lightning as it cracked across the sky. His voice followed the rumble of thunder, and the assassin turned her head back to look at him. For a moment, it was painful how familiar this was - a ghost of a memory. It felt like lifetimes ago, times like this. She recovered her brief lapse then, quirking a brow at Silver Wing as she held his gaze steadily. Fine. If he insisted on thwarting her isolation, he wasn’t going to have to deal with what he got. Nothing she felt was okay, or right, or good company. She was a plague, one that had very nearly killed him in betrayal. Without looking away, Ashe lurched forward, smoothly putting Reckoning behind her as she swung both her legs down on either side of the rafter, bracing her hand on the wood. WIth the other, she lifted the bottle to her lips in answer to his question, taking two long pulls before she lowered it again. Without breaking his gaze, she leaned forward and thunked the bottle down between her knees. Maybe it was the wine, but Ashe held his gaze, eyes fracturing for the briefest of moments. She swallowed hard at the way her chest tightened, and she made herself lean back against the wooden beam.. but she didn’t look away as lightning preceded a crack of thunder, magic sparking across her chest. Had to be the booze. ”Didn’t know cigars were your thing,” Ashe commented, her legs swinging on either side of the rafter. She reached forward and grabbed the bottle again - when did it get so light? - and tipped it back. As she lowered it down, she wiped her thumb over her lower lip to smear away the red wine left behind. This time, she reached forward and set the bottle down between them, remaining upright now as she narrowed her eyes at him. She thought to ask him why the fuck he was there, why he insisted on tailing the woman that had betrayed him. Why, if he wasn’t going to kill her, did he think dealing with her was worth any kind of thought or time? Thought about asking him where his daughter was. Who her mother was. She thought about kicking him off the rafter. ”Where were you right before we all woke up in this place?” came her question, quite abruptly. ”How’d you even find me?”

There was a familiar calm between them, as he settled himself on the rafter, and his gaze flickered to the flash of light in the sky chased by the slow rumbling echo. A hint of a smile tugged at his lips, as a nearly three-year-old memory flooded his mind. Getting drenched in the rain in the crow’s nest of a ship on the way back to the Keep, fingers twined together in a way that would have gotten them both killed if Master had seen. She disappeared for eight months after that. Kalt brought his gaze back to Ashe for a moment, holding her fire blue eyes, so uncharacteristically dimmed. He drew a slow breath, not breaking his stare from her. There was such a strange emptiness in her eyes that stirred something he wasn’t familiar with – or maybe something he had forgotten and buried deep inside of himself. Either way, it wasn’t important. Whatever was going to force its way to the surface would do so whether he gave it the opportunity or not. The only hope was that it would surface at a time that wasn’t life or death. For Ashe and himself, that tended to vary minute to minute. She repositioned herself, telling him that she wasn’t going to run or fight – at least she wasn’t planning on it. When it came to her, especially when she was drinking, predicting exactly what her next moves would be wasn’t the easiest, though he was quite good at doing so. There was silence held between them for a long while, and Ashe decided not to answer his question. That was fine; it was mostly rhetorical anyway. She commented on his cigar, and he tilted his hand with a huff of a laugh. ”They weren’t,” he said, taking a puff of the cigar as she took a drink of the wine. There was no further explanation given, none needed because she wasn’t actually asking. Once again, silence fell between them. She placed the bottle of wine on the rafter closer to him that time, and he assumed she was offering for him to take a drink. He wasn’t in the mood, but he didn’t need to tell her that directly. Then, she spoke again. She seemed keen on breaking whatever silence was allowed to fall for just moments, so he breathed deeply with a shrug. ”Truth?” He started, tightening his lips for just a moment. ”No fucking clue. Came through with a bag of all of my shit, so can only assume I was headed back to my townhouse from camping. Never actually stayed under the same roof more than once.” Kalt gave her a crooked smile, knowing that she was usually the same way. His belief about patterns was drilled into her mind at an early age. ”Finding you was the easy part. Northaven wasn’t that big, so that was easy as anything. Once we came here…” He gave another small shrug. ”You know I can find whoever I want.” Kalt glanced at the bottle of wine between him, leaning forward and wrapping his free hand around the neck of the bottle. He looked at the glass for a moment, then held it out to the side and dropped it to the ground, waiting for a second or two before being met by the satisfying sound of shattering glass. He didn’t need to look down to see it, instead keeping his piercing eyes on her. Ashetta kalt give into the night.

a s h e Ashe tilted her head just slightly as Kalt let out a cloud of smoke, bracing her hands on the beam before her - her limbs were starting feel awfully light. It was strange that the smell struck a chord somewhere in her, taking her back to days of walking by the dining hall and the smell hitting her. The elder seniors often would lounge in there, boots on the table as they puffed on cigars. Vaego, Teirnan, Harkon - they often had their time without Ashe, Kalt, and Orynth. Usually with cigars, booze, and talk of heading out to one of the underground taverns. Her attention was snapped back to the present by Kalt’s voice, and she narrowed her eyes at him. His memory was fuzzy about it too. Something about that bothered her - it seemed no one could quite remember exactly where they had been just before they woke up by the spire. That meant that he hadn’t come to this world deliberately. He was plucked just like she had, like they all had. Ashe glanced down to the rafter for a moment as lightning struck across the sky, booming an echo that rattled the panes of the window. A world of gods and monsters, caged in… perhaps that bothered her most of all. The wolf looked up at the rustle of movement across from her, bright blue eyes watching his movements carefully. It still didn’t seem to quite register that he was there. Right in front of her, sitting with her. Lifetimes ago. Maybe because back then, she wouldn’t have been sitting across from him, she would have been - Stop getting so sentimental, idiot girl, she snarled at herself. He probably still wants you dead. She wondered if she would let him. As he held what was left of her wine, she was about to tell him to take a drink or hand it the fuck back, but.. but then he held it out to the side. ”Shit!” Ashe lunged forward just as his hand opened. She dove for it, swinging over the side of the rafter and using her legs to hang on, one hand over the top for balance and the other snapping out to try and catch the bottle - She grabbed at empty air, and seconds later? Crash! Ashe let out a heavy (and absurdly dramatic) sigh and hung loosely off the side of the rafter, her arm hanging listlessly as she turned her head to glare up at Kalt. Striking eyes were on her, and her scowl darkened when her heart stumbled - she was a hell of a lot closer now. ”Prick,” she snapped as she shoved herself up to sit, straddling the rafter. She let out a huff at the wet hair in her face as she placed her hands between her knees. She sat loosely, one leg swinging as she continued with her scowl. ”Couldn’t have just finished it? Or you know, handed it back?” Was she a little drunk? Probably. Had she had enough? Also probably, but fuck him for knowing that. She glared at him for a moment longer before she flicked her eyes up to the rain battered window. There was a flash of silvery-blue, the crack of thunder, and her magic responded with rogue flickers of electricity across wet skin. Then her glare suddenly vanished, her brows furrowing as her eyes went wide. Where had he been before waking up here…? Ashe snapped her head back to look at Kalt, close enough now to make out the marks of that tattoo over his eye, to be assaulted with familiarity. ”Did you say…” She narrowed her eyes again and leaned forward just slightly, raising one hand to point a finger at him. ”Did you just fucking say Northaven?”

He couldn’t - or maybe he didn’t want to - help the smirk that easily made its way over his lips, pulling at one side, then the other moments later. The surplus of satisfaction at seeing her practically fly after the wine as it fell was almost even annoying to him, but it ballooned in his chest in a way that reminded him of the antics they used to take part in to fuck with each other back in Northwind. The nearly sibling-like way that they messed with each other for years were some of the best memories from living through that hell. ’Prick.’ Shorter than the last nickname she had given him during their very first interaction in the ruins, but nonetheless, it suited him. That thought was easier to suppress the smirk threatening to emerge. Kalt shook his head slowly, lifting his cigar to show her. ”I don’t drink when I smoke,” he said quietly. Clearing his throat, he quirked a brow at her. ”And why would I give it back? Lose the opportunity to see that shitty attempt at saving it? You would’ve caught it if you didn’t drink so much of it.” The girl had always been a lightweight. Was it because she was tiny? Probably. Was it because she never kept herself in peak condition anymore? Also, probably. Was it because he might have lowered her tolerance once or twice when they drank together in Northwind? Not that could be proven. He noted where she sat now that she had pulled herself back up to sit straight - or as straight as she would - on the rafter. Quite a bit closer to him than she had been before, which brought another small grin to tug at his lips. Of course he wouldn’t comment, despite his pride’s desire to point it out. In response, he leaned forward, resting his arm on his bent knee and staring intently at her. Her gaze flickered to the sky as her magic reacted with the natural storm, but he didn’t glance away for so much as a second. When she snapped her attention back to him, the question about Northaven on subtly pouting lips, he nodded to her, gently urging her finger to point away from him. ”Wow, you’re quick,” he teased with a quiet laugh. ”Been in Northaven the whole time you were, blue. Ya just didn’t know it. Went under the name Count Stefan Westbourne.” Saying the name always brought a rotten taste to his mouth, but he pushed it down. He didn’t need that name, that part of his life anymore. And by the gods, he was damned thankful for that. His hand rubbed his bearded chin, and he smirked at her. ”Grew this out for an easy disguise, but I’ll get rid of it soon.” Kalt grinned at her wryly. ”Don’t get pissy you didn’t know. Made an effort to keep out of sight, most of the time.” Ashetta kalt give into the night.

a s h e Count Stefan Westbourne. Ashe’s brows knit together in thought as she filtered through her memory, searching for the name. She had known nearly everyone in Northaven. Her position as the settlement’s only messenger had her reading near every name and every face of the residents, her eidetic memory lending her an advantage. The position had proved to be moderately useful over that year and half, building her connections and keeping her informed… but apparently not informed enough. No. Not at all. She watched his hand rasp through the beard he had grown, and she managed a half-smirk before she looked away, back to the storm that flashed and rumbled outside. ”That’s probably the deepest you’ve ever gone undercover, hm? A Count for a year and a half. Beard, tattoo.” A daughter. Her tone that was perhaps over-cordial. The wolf’s lip feathered, and she swung her leg over the rafter so that both feet were hanging from the side. Casting her eyes down to the shrine that glowed. Those candles burned red the night she understood that she would never be saved. Ashe’s lips pressed into a thin line, and was suddenly a hell of a lot more irritated that Kalt had dropped her wine - she needed another fucking drink. He had been there the whole time. Right there in Northaven, he had been there the whole time. She swallowed past the sudden tightness in her throat and braced her hands on the edge of the rafter, leaning forward as though she were hanging off the edge of the world. With the way it all tilted around her, maybe she was. ”So you know everything then,” she said, and she was frustrated to find that her voice was rough. She cleared her throat and blinked rapidly at the prickling in her eyes and pushed herself up to sit straight again, the world tilting back up with her. She had to slide a hand back against the wood as she glanced up at the window. Another brilliant flash illuminated them, her own lightning upon her skin flaring brightly with it. He at least knew what the public knew - Ashe hadn’t exactly been a subtle figure in Northaven. And she had very, very little doubt that he knew about Master. About how he terrorized her, used her without her even knowing. Idiot girl. ”I didn’t plan on this,” Ashe said quietly. She didn’t know why she was saying it, why she didn’t just keep her mouth shut, but the world was hazy and her chest hurt, and there was so much silence in her head. ”I didn’t plan on living through taking him down, not after everything he did.” She had said as much, so many times, to so many people. That she didn’t think she would survive that bloody crusade of hers, that she was sure she would die in the end. That her life would finally be the price to pay. Ashe sighed a deep breath and swung her hand around to ruffle through her hair, tipping her head back as she blinked up at the ceiling. ”But here I fucking am,” she said, and she tilted her head back down to stare at the shrine tucked below, leaning over… perhaps a bit too far. She scoffed at herself with a bitter kind of smile and shook her head, turning it to lock her eyes on him. She wasn't sure when it would stop being a shock to her system to see him, talk to him. "Guess that means you heard about how I exploded the head off of that stone beast," she said, raising a brow and smirking haughtily at him. Very deliberately avoiding the other topic. As if she were proud of her work that day.

He gave her a crooked grin at her comment about going undercover. Deepest he had gone undercover… His mind searched rapidly through every single one of his jobs that he went undercover for, nodding slowly. She was right. He didn’t like it, either. Going undercover came remarkably easily for him, able to shed his face for another with such ease some might think he had more than one personality hiding beneath his skin. Maybe they were right. Kalt watched her carefully, his gaze never wavering, part of him worrying that looking away from her for even a moment would give her the opportunity to slip away from him and disappear into the night, into the storm. She was good at that, at running and vanishing. Of course he was also good at finding her, but he didn’t want to tonight. They were sitting together, listening to the rain and the scattered claps of thunder chasing the lightning, talking like nothing had changed. Well, some things would have been different if nothing had changed, but he would take what he could get from her. He knew what pushing her too much in a fragile state would get, so he refused to do it. ’So you know everything then.’ It wasn’t a question, but her voice implied that she wanted confirmation. Still, he didn’t give it to her. Yes, he knew everything. He knew more than she probably thought he knew. He was there through it all, but she didn’t need to know that. She didn’t need to know the details of everything he had done for her behind the scenes. Someday, maybe. Now, when she was drunk and forcing loneliness on herself? No way. There was a lot he could tell her about what he did, what he saw, even things he did for her back in the Guild, but he didn’t want that on her. She already believed herself to a curse on anyone who cared about her, believed herself to be worthless. He would never pile anything heavy onto her like that. Something about the way she spoke about taking Master down pressed hard on his chest. She didn’t plan on surviving Master’s death? Or did part of her not want to survive it, making her rationalize through planning? He gritted his teeth slightly at that thought. He didn’t smirk at her when she did at him. He didn’t even blink at her change of subject to the stone beast. Yes, obviously he had heard about it. Half of the time he was in Northaven, he was living with a fucking stress migraine at her sheerly stupid way of charging into fights on her own, as though she didn’t have anyone who would have willingly followed her into a fight. Those around her might not have been the most competent, but they would have fought for her. Kalt glanced at his cigar, tapping it lightly to get rid of the ash on the end of it. ”Ashe, we’re out,” he said quietly, giving her a gentle smile. ”We’re free of him, of that world.” He paused then, taking a long breath. ”But that doesn’t mean it’s over. I’ve accepted that my life will never be normal, that I’ll never have the ability to walk through the world without that voice in the back of my mind telling me something bad is gonna happen. I’ve learned to live with it, and you have to also. Just because we aren’t in the Guild anymore doesn’t mean the Guild isn’t in us. ”But you shouldn’t apologize for that. Ever. We dealt with shit that people never should have to, that people couldn't fucking imagine, but you know what? It made us who we are, made you who you are.” He would reach out and gently touch her cheek, thumb strumming over the scar he had given her above her lip with a flicker of a smile before withdrawing again. ”You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. Strong as fuck in mind, body, and soul, and I never want to see you doubting that again.” He knew there would be doubts. Her doubting herself was inevitable, especially in the state she was in, but it was the point that he was trying to drive home. Kalt glanced down, putting out his cigar and resting it on the rafter behind his back to cool down. Crystal blue eyes searched her softly. ”I’ve never left you alone, Ashe,” he said in a quiet voice, nearly drowned by the rain. ”Even when you thought you were… Never once before.” Kalt grinned at her, running his fingers through his hair with a breath. ”Definitely not now.” Ashetta kalt give into the night.

a s h e He didn’t bite. Ashe’s smirk wavered, and it flickered out as he spoke, and something hollow in her chest started to slowly cave inwards. She had tried. Gods, she had nearly done it, touched it - that normal life. She’d held that peace in the palm of her hands… and she crushed it. Not their Master. Not some unseen enemy. She did. She never broke her gaze from him, but her heart was hammering in her chest now, and her finger twitched as though she needed to move. Just because we aren’t in the Guild anymore doesn’t mean the Guild isn’t in us. Ashe dropped her eyes and tasted blood from where she had been biting the inside of her lip, but then suddenly she felt his hand gently brush her cheek. Her eyes flashed upwards, her and her lips parted when his thumb moved over that scar over her lip. He had given her that scar, a mark of another rebellion - hers and his. A quiet breath left her, and she looked away from him when he dropped his hand, back to the storm. He kept going, talking about strength, and she felt something crack in her. Mind, body, and soul. Someone else had told her otherwise, one who had seen the blackest depths of her. Pain, and anger, and misery are the trinity. She glanced back at him to find him still looking at her, and she was caught before she could glance away. Her breath was suddenly hard to catch, and his grin finally had her looking away again, down to the floor. Far, far below. ”I’m not strong,” she scoffed, smirking bitterly like she was sharing a cruel joke. Fuck that. Her voice was loose going on - guess I’m a little drunk. ”Gods, that’s the last fucking thing I am.” She really needed to hit him for dropping her wine. She wasn’t nearly numb enough for this shit. Ashe shook her head and leaned back with a spinning head, slowly and deliberately expelling the air from her lungs as she pulled her legs up and wrapper her arms over her knees. She wasn’t strong, not in any sense of the word. She was nothing. She cleared her throat and hugged her legs tighter to herself, as if that alone would hold her together. With a deep breath she shook damp hair from her face and looked back at Kalt with narrowed eyes. Of course he’d been there the whole time - it seemed impossible, but here he was. She had left him to die for nothing. Had made herself hate him for nothing. She wondered what could have happened if she’d just gone straight to him with that arrow. ”So when the fuck did you get magic?” Ashe asked abruptly, raising her brows and leaning over to brace her hand on the rafter in front of him for balance. ”I don’t ever remember you using magic in the Guild, Kalt.”

He listened to her and watched the way she held herself, looking as though she wanted to disappear. He had seen that look on her before, but what was important was that she knew he wasn’t leaving. He was stubborn like that. Once his mind was made up... Well, good luck to anyone who wanted to change it. His mind was made up now. It had been the first time he removed his mask for her in this new world. There had been no going back then, and he wasn’t going back now, ever. Fuck anything and anyone who tried to make him. He had been around the whole time in Northaven. He knew her life, how people spoke to her and let her get away with not talking about anything difficult. He wasn’t there for every conversation, but he could guess she hadn’t had a real, true conversation about anything directing her life since they were in the Guild. Unfortunately for her, she would have to unlearn that habit pretty damned fast because he never allowed it. She knew he didn’t allow it, but two years was a long time to avoid feelings. Drawing a slow breath, he let silence linger between them for a moment, as his eyes narrowed at her, lips not even hinting at a grin. ”Don’t deflect,” he said plainly. The last time she did, he let it go and simply circled back to what they had they had been talking about. This time? No. He wasn’t going to sit there and dance around a conversation while she avoided talking about what was really haunting her. Kalt feathered his jaw, sighing softly. ”You don’t have to be strong all the time, Ashe,” he said quietly. ”It’s impossible to always be strong without breaking down after a while. You just need to be around the right people when you break down.” He flashed her a small grin, which disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared. She was right, she wasn’t strong, not now at least. But that was okay, and he needed her to know that she would be strong again. If she needed to be broken down for a little while, it was fine, it was part of the process of healing. Regardless, he was going to be there. He hadn’t been there for her in the right way in two years, but he wouldn’t let that kind of thing happen again. Ever. ”I’ll give you a choice,” he said with a smirk, extending his hand to her. ”Come here. Sit with me like you would have two years ago. Let me show you that you aren’t alone; that letting yourself be vulnerable and weak is a way of being strong; that it’s really okay not to be at full strength, and I won’t press you for anything conversationally. We can sit in silence, or I’ll answer whatever you want me to answer. Or stay where you are and don’t try to avoid the subject we’ve been talking about. And secret option three where you run doesn’t exist because you know I can catch you when you’re like this.” He grinned at her. She would know he was serious, but it wasn’t like he was looking forward to chasing after her in the rain. Still, his hand remained outstretched to her. Ashetta kalt give into the night.

a s h e Don’t deflect. Ashe furrowed her brow at that, her heart stalling for just a moment. ”I’m not deflecting,” she hissed. His eyes were unwavering, but she stubbornly held it, narrowing her eyes at him. He didn’t answer her question, hadn’t answered any of her questions, and seemed entirely intent on making her talk about her feelings. She didn’t need to do that, didn’t want to, couldn’t. Not about that. She’d told plenty of people what she was, who she was. Hadn’t she? Her mother knew more than anyone in their family, perhaps got a closer look at her pain than most. Dev.. she told him very little, but he knew her scars, her demons. And Al - Ashe looked down sharply from Kalt’s smile. This pain was hers. It was meant to fester in her, eat her alive. No one needed to know the depth of her shame, how it extended so far beyond taking lives. You don’t have to be strong all the time, Ashe, he’d said. She never had been. Not once. He knew her, had been there with her through it all - he saw her weakness. She glanced up to him, to his chest, as if she could see the scar she knew to be there. Her eyes flickered up to his face at the sound of his voice through the rain outside, and she froze when he reached a hand out towards her. Her lips parted for a moment, and she looked back up at him with wary eyes. Sit with me like you would have two years ago. Her chest swelled as her heart suddenly thundered in her chest, but she didn’t look away from him. Run. This was about when she should run, should leave, should cut this off before it went any further… but she frowned at herself. He was right. She turned and glanced down to the temple below, to that shrine, then assessed her escape routes. He’d have her - she wasn’t so drunk to think she could actually get away in this state, or do any real fighting. Stubborn as ever, he wasn’t going to let her run. Ashe let out a long and deep sigh before she turned to look back at Kalt. She considered him in silence for a moment, his grin and the hand he held out to her. A crash of thunder rattled the temple after a brilliant flash illuminated the pair through the window, and she didn’t look away from him. Not even as she reached out a slipped a scarred hand into his. Ashe didn’t let herself consider what she was doing as she pulled herself forward. She world tilted around her for a moment as she moved towards him, and her grip tightened on his hand as she nearly lost her balance with a quiet gasp. Maybe drinking in the rafters of a vaulted temple hadn’t been the best idea she’d ever had. She managed to rover herself at least, and in a few moments.. The raven-haired girl eased herself to sit between Kalt’s legs, cautiously laying back against his chest. She was holding her breath at first, stiff, afraid to let herself settle against the solid mass of him behind her. A soft tremor rippled through her, forcing her shaking breath from her lips. He smelled like cigar smoke, like rain, and distant pines with sea breezes. Ashe shut her eyes and made herself breathe steadily, and she finally relented. She settled back against Silver Wing with a long exhale, nestling herself against him. For a second, they were both infamous assassins again, staying away from the Keep or out on contract and waiting out a storm before returning home. Ashe didn’t speak at first, staring out into the storm as she tried to absorb what was happening: Kalt holding her. Letting it happen. She couldn’t help the way she sunk into him, and she wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol that made her body feel so heavy, or knowing that her only other physical contact had been with her mother, over a week ago. ”Tell me about your magic,” she said quietly, her voice barely carrying above the storm outside.

She slid her hand into his, and he felt her grip him tighter when she almost tripped on the rafter. He quirked a brow at her, stifling the chuckle that threatened to release at her relatively uncoordinated reactions. This was why he dropped her fucking wine. Any more and she likely would have fallen. Granted, he would have been quick enough to grab her, but he didn’t exactly feel like almost jumping off the rafter to catch the drunk assassin. Kalt felt how stiff, how unsure she was upon initially lying against him. It didn’t last very long, though. Soon enough, he felt her relax against his chest, and a gentle smile was displayed on his lips, as he smelled the rain on her over the sweet scent of the wine. He carefully put his arm around her, more for security than anything else, but the fingers that brushed through her hair moved automatically, not even thinking about what he was doing. It was such an instinctive reaction to feeling her, to holding her, that he didn’t bother remotely questioning it. His deal was that they could talk about whatever she wanted if she sat with him, so he was going to hold up his end. Kalt breathes slowly, giving an almost nonexistent shrug. ”I’ve had it since I was twelve,” he said softly. ”I was an alterationist, a fucking powerful one too, and Master forced me to keep it a secret. Used it for all kinds of jobs, even healing myself after some particularly bad punishments, unless Master forbade it of course.” He looked at her softly, touching her cheek briefly. ”He made me use it for nothing but violence, until I was fifteen, until you came to the Guild. We didn’t have a healer yet, so he brought me to your rooms, and you were lying in a bed under blankets like a half frozen toddler. He told me to save you, and I fucking panicked. I was positive I was going to kill you because my magic was dark, destructive. But, here we are. You showed me there was light.” Again, his fingers combed through her hair, as his lips would press against the side of her head, eyes closing. Yes, he agreed to talk about what she wanted to, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t talk about it in his way. She thought herself a curse on everyone who ever loved her, but gods, that was as far from the truth as she could have ever been. ”Everyone sees the darkness in themselves,” he whispered to her. ”But there’s so much more light in you than you know. I lived in total darkness in the Guild. The only reason I know kindness, joy...love...is because you showed me.” Ashetta kalt give into the night.

a s h e Ashe’s eyes dipped shut with his fingers moving through her damp hair, her limbs feeling heavy as she shifted enough for her hands to rest over his chest. She could hear his heartbeat thrum with the rain, thunder punctuating the rhythm as she settled further into him. Instinct maybe, or an overall lack of will to strangle down her the hunger for touch that wasn’t meant to hurt. Depriving herself of company was taking a worse toll than she thought, as she couldn’t stop the shudder at such a familiar and normal thing like someone holding her. Kalt holding her. Fire blue eyes blinked open as his voice rolled from his chest, soft and rumbling, and she watched the rain against the warped glass of the window. Since he was twelve… years before she ever even got to the Guild. She breathed carefully around the tingling pulses in her blood, sending everything around her into a spin with every beat of her heart. She shut her eyes briefly, and it seemed it was more instinct than anything for her to turn her head against him for the shortest of moments. Breathing him in.. After some particularly bad punishments. They both bore the deep scars of what defiance in the Guild earned. Her eyes pulled open as she felt him shift slightly, and she looked up in time to meet the crystalline stare he leveled down at her, just as his hand brushed her cheek. She was caught, hardly able to quite process what it was that clenched painfully in her chest with this. She understood he held her, that he hadn’t ever betrayed her. Right then, a little drunk and the storm crashing outsight the temple, she didn’t particularly want to think beyond the warmth holding her or the words he said. He told me to save you. Ashe couldn’t move, suddenly. Couldn’t breathe. She’d known the Guild didn’t have a healer when she’d first been sold to their Master. She’d always assumed he brought a healer in, likely eliminated them after, had nothing considered he sourced her healing internally. Never considered Kalt. She was entirely frozen as she considered it, what he said. Hadn’t she just been wondering how much better the world would have been if she had just frozen to death in that snowdrift, if her father had just been a little bit too late in finding her? Thunder rolled after a flash, and Ashe shivered as she broke her wide eyes away from him. She felt it, something overwhelming swelling in her chest and filling her gaze, blurring her vision. The assassin caved in on herself from where she sat against Kalt, but she could not resist the gentle easing of his fingers through her hair. Her eyes flickered shut again, and maybe it was the alcohol, but she let out a long and shaking breath as she curled further into him. She near melted with the gentle kiss to her head. Everything was heavy, and when she opened her eyes the ceiling and rafters were wobbling and tilting around her. She certainly couldn’t deny her mother made good wine. ”The only reason I know kindness, joy...love...is because you showed me.” Ashe sucked in a sharp breath as something powerful cracked in her chest, and she swore it drowned out the lightning and thunder that crashed outside the temple. Her eyes opened, brows pulling together, and gods she couldn’t even think. Joy. Love. Her lip trembled and she shook her head, and she ended up biting down on a numb bottom lip until she tasted hot blood spilling onto her tongue, keeping the flood from her eyes at bay. She turned her face into him despite herself, taking a shuddering breath. She wasn’t sure if she was too drunk or not drunk enough. ”You’re wrong,” she said in a broken whisper, voice thick with unshed tears. ”I betrayed you, why don’t you fucking hate me?” Her hand curled into a fist over his chest and she squeezed her eyes shut. ”Why can’t everyone just fucking hate me? Then I could go and no one would be hurt, no one would have to be hurt by me anymore if they’d all just hate me, and I could just end -” Ashe cut herself off sharply with her eyes opening, staring out at the rain with misted, fractured eyes. ”There’s no light in me.”

Feeling her shudder against him, he perhaps tightened his hold on her just barely, giving what was hopefully a gentle sense of security to her. When he spoke, he flickered his eyes from her to around the Temple to the storm and back to her. Always back to her. That seemed to be how his life ran. No matter how strongly he wanted to put his past behind him, to start over and disappear under a false name, to just go, something always dragged him back in, held him where he was because that was where he belonged, whether he cared to agree or not. Now, sitting with Ashe pressed against him smelling of rainwater and wine high above the Temple floor, he knew that whatever path he was following was the right one, whatever hardships he endured were part of what it took to grow. He knew. She didn’t have an outward reaction to his admission of having saved her all those years ago, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t there to provide astounding realizations, but to show her there’s hope, there’s light. There always was. His arms bore the scars of the countless times he had taken a razor sharp knife to them. It had started when he was just eleven years old and continued from there. For four years he had drawn his own blood in such a way, desperate to end his life before it had even truly begun, desperate to shove away the memories of abuse from a father who took the form of a masked shadow, of agony from beatings and harsh training sessions, of the one sick blueblood who enjoyed eight-year-old boys. He should have died eighteen years ago, but he hadn’t. The only reason he was still alive, the only reason he stopped trying to end his miserable, worthless life when he was fifteen was because of her. Ashe was the sole reason he was still breathing, the sole reason he was able to stay strong through the shared hell they went through in the Guild. She was the reason he lived long enough to complete school. She was the reason he lived long enough to hold her through night terrors. She was the reason he lived long enough to keep her from their Master’s twisted appetite for over a year, even if he ultimately failed. She was the reason he lived long enough to raise Theea. She was the reason he lived long enough to sit with her above the Temple to keep her from spiraling too far to return from. She was the reason for everything that had come of his life. He saw the blood on her lip and would carefully touch it to wipe it away. As he listened to her talk, Kalt felt a deep ache in his chest begin to erupt, yet it settled inside of him like a flow of lava. It burned and consumed everything in its path. It was thick and hot and unstoppable, but it was calm. After the initial eruption, it moved through his body slowly, dangerously, unrelenting but giving his mind the time to adapt to the seething consumption. The only thing that centered his mind once again was the feeling of her fist closing on his chest. That was it. He would talk her off the ledge. He would fucking wrestle a blade out of her hand. He would shatter hundreds more of those wine bottles. But that was the moment he decided enough was enough. She wasn’t journeying down that path. She wasn’t allowed to fucking do that, to even think she’s close to worthless. If he could have murdered the thought itself, he would have without hesitation. Instead, he would have to make do with what he had racing to the tip of his tongue to get out. ”Ashe, look me in the eyes,” he said. Rather, demanded, as he shifted himself and her with him until he was able to angle her enough to face him, enough for their eyes to meet. ”Don’t look away, I don’t care how hard it is.” She wasn’t getting away from this. She had to hear it, and he needed to know. ”Tell me, right now... Do you want to be alone? Do you want me to leave, here and now? Say the word, and I’m gone. But don’t you fucking dare try to tell me that I should hate you. Don’t you fucking dare tell me that being in your life causes only pain because there isn’t a single person alive who I would rather have by my side. So, tell me. Tell me right now, and I’ll listen. Do you truly, honestly want to be alone?” It was her decision. Every word was raw enough to draw blood from the heart beating in him, but he was sincere in the question. If she told him she wanted to be alone, that would be the end of it. He would leave the Temple without another word, take Theea, and disappear. He’d done it before, he could do it again. If she said no...if she admitted to him, to herself that she didn’t want to be alone, he wasn’t moving a muscle until she was ready to leave. Ashetta kalt give into the night.