RexannA
your battle-worn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore
that you are ruined
Of course Frey wouldn’t care for her babbling – it was her nerves, trying to want them to understand her when in reality why would they care to? She hadn’t brought anything. She’d only cleaned the shrine. She didn’t know what she could bring to give her favor with the deity. Rex had only tried, to see what could and would happen, and now that Frey had come she was already annoying them. She sucked in a breath, continuing to try and calm her heartbeat as Frey sighed annoyed and bored, glaring at her with such a devastatingly beautiful face that caused her heart to constrict. She lowered her head in a nod, averting her gaze like an obedient child.
Frey began to speak again, and Rexanna closed her eyes. How could she deny it? She didn’t know anything about Frey, and the assumptions she had made previously about them had caused terrible things to happen. She chided herself quietly, but she nodded in agreement. She was stupid. She was reckless. And she thought by now perhaps she would have learned, but this world was so different from her last that she still didn’t understand it all. She wanted to help, to help Frey, to help Remi, to help everyone and instead it only seemed to make things worse.
All she needed was direction, a small helping hand, instead of one wrought with such destruction that followed her path. Sure, to Frey it was nothing at all, but to her it meant a great deal. And perhaps that was her fault, in thinking she could help others when she could barely help herself. Yet her eyes lifted toward Frey as they moved from the tree, to her and walked around her. Her head lowered yet again in an effort to not offend as all those terrible thoughts raced back to the forefront of her mind. She had a dark heart, a survivor’s heart, when she had let so many die without good reason. Her mother had died, her father killed, her own child hadn’t even survived – she had scars and brands to prove it, the sweat of her hands feeling eerily close to blood.
Her heart raced further as Frey continued to move around her and speak, their steps slow as Rexanna could only see everything horrible she’d ever done. She wanted to tell Frey that Remi didn’t know, that she had come on her own accord. That she had come to right the wrongs – but Frey had known of Remi’s love for another without Remi even uttering a word. So, she kept her lips sealed, wondering how much would come crashing down onto her if she were to open her mouth again. He didn’t know. She didn’t know Remi well enough to know what his response would be to this encounter. It was for the better. Perhaps it was for the better if he never even saw her again. Let her be the homewrecker, the heartbreaker, destroyer, siren.
She had only known him for a few short moments before the encounter with Frey, were they even friends? But that was a fault of hers as well – she cared too much, too deeply, and she felt it as well. She felt the cries of her people as her husband marched in his army and killed them all – she felt the life of her home drained as they destroyed it brick by brick. She felt the death that trailed after her, and it was such a terrible weight. She had done her best to push them away, to try and forget; to lose herself with Alistair, a man whom she’d only just met as well. It did nothing good now that it came roaring back, like a wave crashing over the shore of her memories.
Suddenly, as Rexanna focused further, Frey came to a stop before her. Her eyes lifting to look at them from below her lashes, a face so devastatingly beautiful that she felt foolish being even in their presence. Let alone having their attention. They questioned her, and she wasn’t even sure how to respond. How could she appease them, to help Remi, to let her fix the wrongs she’d already caused here and to move on and find her way in the shadow of the darkness – of how she should be spending her life.
Rex wanted to tell Frey that she could do anything to fix it; but even she knew that was a lie. She wasn’t capable – she couldn’t even talk to a god without sweating and her heart jumping into her throat. She was useless in this regard, unless she offered herself, in whichever way that might be. Let Frey take her love for others, and hopefully amend it with Remi. Yet the more she thought about it, the more her mind seemed to think it was a laughable idea – especially to a god she had already begun to upset. She sucked in another breath, her sapphire eyes dark and heavy with all her failures and flaws at the forefront of her mind. “What would you have me do?” She began, hands wringing the shirt yet again. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I admit that I have nothing good to offer you. You could take my love or any I have in the future to replace his, if that is an option. You could take anything of mine and I will pay that price for it. Tell me your wishes, and it will be done.” She finally said, voice shaking as she focused on Frey, swallowing against the lump in her throat. It had always been a fault of hers, giving away everything of hers for others happiness, regardless of whether or not she knew them well. Remi was a good person, it seemed as much in the short time she had known him.
The world needed more good people. It needed less of people like her that brought destruction wherever she went.
AND YOU WONDER WHY HE LETS YOU — THE BUTCHER
TOUCH HIM — THE SUN
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