MAEA
Oh, she understood. The girl was ever fond of puzzles. But this one was far too terrible to really look at quite yet. Maybe later, maybe in the quiet, deep darkness of the night when the edge of these emotions had dulled to something less sharp and cutting. When the crass, realistic part of her could piece together what was never said, and understand. They had set out for the heart of a rare creature, and oh, they had one. But it had claimed the lives of three others alongside it, and... and it was Coffee, not some nameless beast. It was a sweet, loving little dragon, to be loved and protected and cherished, not... not butchered for parts.
But Maea didn't permit herself to think too deeply on it just yet, because she wasn't sure if she could contain the emotions if she did. Grief and shock and horror, yes, but also anger. At Safrin, for setting them this stupid task, at Sunjata for picking the worst possible target and completely underestimating it, at herself for being unworthy, unable to join them - as if her presence could have done any kind of difference.
But no. She wasn't thinking any of these things. Just held her lover close when he finally gave in and leaned into her, shuddering and so close to weeping. More broken than she had ever seen him, so torn apart that it scared her half to death because there was no trace of the Sunjata she knew here. Not her smiling rogue, her fishtailed playmate from the river, or the storm-eyed young god of the sea that ravaged her on the beach. Just a boy, too young for the things he had seen, and too scarred to ever be the same. This was some stranger that had fallen into her arms, and Maea held him tight. Held him close as he spoke, and she nodded and stroked his hair, so relieved just to hear his voice even if it was not the same either.
Was she awful, for loving him even more now that she saw him like this? Was she a terrible, cold monster to be relishing the way he trusted her, when all she should be doing was weep for those lost lives?
His voice faded, and he reached for her then. Pulled her into his arms and buried himself into her shoulder; and her dreadful woes melted away, because it didn't matter, she didn't care. If loving him in this moment made her a monster - despite the blood on his hands, the scars on his heart, the terrible, horribly stupid mistakes - then by the gods, she'd be a monster. For him, she would be anything. Whatever he needed.
"Thank you for coming back," she whispered, draping her arms about him, holding him close. Pressing her lips into his hair, Maea rocked him slowly. "Thank you for being alive."
Maybe it did make her a monster... for being so selfishly happy to have him here, now, alive in her arms and still in one piece (save his broken heart) when she'd come so close to losing him too.
But Maea didn't permit herself to think too deeply on it just yet, because she wasn't sure if she could contain the emotions if she did. Grief and shock and horror, yes, but also anger. At Safrin, for setting them this stupid task, at Sunjata for picking the worst possible target and completely underestimating it, at herself for being unworthy, unable to join them - as if her presence could have done any kind of difference.
But no. She wasn't thinking any of these things. Just held her lover close when he finally gave in and leaned into her, shuddering and so close to weeping. More broken than she had ever seen him, so torn apart that it scared her half to death because there was no trace of the Sunjata she knew here. Not her smiling rogue, her fishtailed playmate from the river, or the storm-eyed young god of the sea that ravaged her on the beach. Just a boy, too young for the things he had seen, and too scarred to ever be the same. This was some stranger that had fallen into her arms, and Maea held him tight. Held him close as he spoke, and she nodded and stroked his hair, so relieved just to hear his voice even if it was not the same either.
Was she awful, for loving him even more now that she saw him like this? Was she a terrible, cold monster to be relishing the way he trusted her, when all she should be doing was weep for those lost lives?
His voice faded, and he reached for her then. Pulled her into his arms and buried himself into her shoulder; and her dreadful woes melted away, because it didn't matter, she didn't care. If loving him in this moment made her a monster - despite the blood on his hands, the scars on his heart, the terrible, horribly stupid mistakes - then by the gods, she'd be a monster. For him, she would be anything. Whatever he needed.
"Thank you for coming back," she whispered, draping her arms about him, holding him close. Pressing her lips into his hair, Maea rocked him slowly. "Thank you for being alive."
Maybe it did make her a monster... for being so selfishly happy to have him here, now, alive in her arms and still in one piece (save his broken heart) when she'd come so close to losing him too.
I'm bleeding out for you
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
