From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
05-18-2020, 08:36 PM (This post was last modified: 05-18-2020, 08:37 PM by Loren.)
LOREN
Loren looked awful, but he felt worse on the outside. Even Astra's gentle presence wasn't enough to lift him from the darkness he'd sunk into once again. At least he was keeping himself busy with work, making sure people were fed, healthy, and safe.
But even so, there were things he needed to do. People he needed to see, no matter how much they might want to curse his name right now. So, clutching a bottle of wine in one hand and a trashy romance he'd salvaged from the ruins of the Palace in the other, he made his way to the room Neron was being held.
Entering, the healer stopped for a minute, hesitating on the threshold. Then he felt tears prickle his eyes, and he made his way towards his brother. Knowing it was probably a mistake, Loren tried to wrap his arms around Neron for a tight hug.
It wasn't so different, being imprisoned in the Academy, to growing up in Northaven. At least, that was Neron's impression of the situation. There were no bars on his cage, no one had stripped him of his belongings or rough-housed him, and he was convinced that if he were bloody-minded enough, he could take care of the guards outside without too much of an issue. But it was still prison, and it wouldn't have achieved anything. So he sat pretty, as promised, needing no food or drink or sleep to keep him going (though replenishing his Ascended fluid was going to quickly become a priority in the next days and weeks).
Mostly, it was boring. If asked he would probably say he was more use out there, putting his power to use with repairs and other restoration efforts, but it wasn't his call to make now.
When the door opened Neron was standing at the window, the curtains open now that it was dark so he could watch the world go by below. Still dressed in his clothes from the night of the Eirachi attack, it was fair to say that he looked rough around the edges. But that was nothing, evidently, compared to his brother.
Honestly, he could probably have kissed Loren at the sight of the novel alone, but as his twin moved forward he wasn't expecting anything like affection - not after the events down in the square. Still, the healer's presence was jarring in that it removed Neron from the pocket of peace within the four walls of his cell, reminding him of chaos and fire and blood.
"This isn't very like you," he said dryly, though his actions spoke differently, and he hugged Loren back just as tightly. "Careful. People will believe I have gone soft."
Loren just continued holding Neron, not even minding the quips. "Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do." The words came out in a sort of desperate rush, matched by the way the healer clung to his brother.
At the next comment, though, Loren finally released the Hailstorm. The healer reached set down the wine so he could wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes. "We can't have that, can we?" However, his own attempt at humor fell flat.
Sighing, he picked up the bottle and held it and the book out to Neron. "Here. You're not going to be in here much longer, as I understand it, and you're not a prisoner, technically, so I figured the rest of your short stay might as well be as comfortable as possible." Then Loren pressed his lips together. "And if anyone complains, send them to me and I'll set them straight." The fiercely protective tone surprised even him.
"Maybe I don't. We've only been civil to each other for the past five minutes," Neron said, the truth easy to admit. They might have agreed to try to work together (and that had crumbled to dust the second things got difficult, let's face it) but the reality was that for twins they probably didn't know much more than the obvious about each other. Still, Loren was definitely along the right lines with wine and the romance novel. He stepped back, a smirk curling at his lips as he accepted both, sinking down to sit on the bed against the wall.
"Would that I could taste as well as I used to," he said of the wine. "I appreciate it, though. Speaking of what you do understand, what is to happen to me? Thrown over the walls? Exiled into the Tundra? You are my first visitor, but for the charming guards outside the door."
05-19-2020, 08:01 PM (This post was last modified: 05-19-2020, 08:50 PM by Loren.)
LOREN
Loren gave Neron a sad smile. "A lot can happen in five minutes." If the past couple days had taught them anything, it was that. Not that it was a lesson the healer needed to learn.
Nodding, the healer glanced around for glasses. Frowning when he didn't see any, he held out his hands and made two out of ice. "If only. I guess we're having it chilled today anyway." He gave one to his brother, then set about uncorking the bottle.
Pouring two generous glasses, Loren moved to lean against the wall. "Nothing so dramatic and drastic as that. It depends a lot on you and what you want, though. And how much indignity you're willing to suffer." He took a sip of his wine, letting it linger on his tongue for a moment.
"The general consensus seems to be that people would not be comfortable with you in a position of power." Fiddling with his glass, he sighed. "But they believe you made an honest mistake, and did not intend for any of this to happen. Nor could you have predicted it. If you're willing to put up with some distrust for some time, you can still make a life for yourself here. And Weaver has told me she's more than willing to work with you."
"As if there were a choice to have it otherwise," Neron said with a dry smile; the temperatures were so low outside, most things were chilled unless they were coveted over an open fire. Accepting the glass of wine, he took a generous sip (needing that much to even sort of taste it) and leant back against the wall on the bed. "Well that's a difficult one, because we all know how likely I am to suffer indignity by anyone's hands." He raised his eyebrows at Loren; Neron had literally ascended to avoid suffering any further indignity from Zariah.
Still, what his twin had to say and offer wasn't all doom and gloom, though he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. "How generous of them - and her," he muttered. "Though I must disagree. Morgan will make it categorically impossible to make any sort of life here in my current state. And besides, Halo definitely does not need a lawyer."
Loren raised his eyebrows at Neron. "We are two incredibly powerful mages. I am sure, if we wanted our drinks room temperature, or hell, even mulled, we could figure something out." It was a weak attempt at humor and lightening the mood, but that was all he could manage these days.
Nodding, the healer scratched the back of his head. "I know. But you might not have a choice this time around." His voice was soft, and his expression had grown sad.
Looking up, he pressed his lips together at his brother's words. "You brought death and destruction to their home. Intentionally or not, that is a hard thing to swallow." Loren shook his head. "I'm not asking you to like it. Just...please try to see things from their point of view." Surprisingly, he wasn't above a bit of pleading. Or maybe it wasn't that surprising, given what he'd been through.
Eyes narrowing slightly, he gave Neron a firm look. "Leave Morgan to me. While I'm pretty sure she'll be satisfied with you no longer being Warden, she owes me a life debt, and I'm not above knocking sense into her by any means necessary." Taking a long sip of the wine, the healer cleared his throat awkwardly. "So what? You don't have to be a lawyer. You are free, as strange as it sounds, freer now than you ever have been in a lot of ways. Do what you want, and go where you will. Or, well, when the snows lift at least."
Then he looked down, features growing sorrowful. For a long moment he stood there in silence, unable to meet his brother's gaze. "But...I would like you here. With me." The healer closed his eyes and added, much more quietly, "I know I don't have any right to ask that, and it's incredibly selfish under the circumstances. It's just...I don't have many people left."
"I am sure we could. And yet here we are, sipping our wine from glasses made out of ice," Neron quipped, though like his brother he was finding it difficult to force humour into the situation. That was only compounded by the somewhat needless reminder of what Neron had done, and the implication of himself as separate to the Citadel.
"Our home," he corrected, a little sharply. "I think you find it easy to forget that I lived here for well over a year prior to the portal opening. It's the only home on Caido I have ever known." And funnily enough, things had been fine before his family had shown back up. (He decided not to voice that, however).
Raising his eyebrows and letting his expression soften somewhat at Loren's reaction to the whole Morgan situation, Neron sighed and nodded. The question of freedom was a difficult one. "I've never not had a place or a role," he said mildly, like it had only just occurred to him. And that Loren wanted him there...? Neron tilted his head. "You literally cut yourself off from me as your brother," he reminded him. "One Launceleyn is present in this room. You were not there when I needed you, and yet you expect me to stand by you in return?"
Taking another generous sip of wine, he shrugged. "It is incredibly selfish. But... fine. I'll stay."
Nodding, Loren toasted, though again there was something a little off about the gesture. At Neron's rebuke, though, the healer's eyes narrowed. "It might be our home, but we're still outsiders here. Regardless, shouldn't the fact that it's your home as well make it easier for you to understand?"
Biting his lip, he shook his head sadly. "You're still my brother. Just because I cast off my last name didn't change that. Not for me." Looking down, his expression grew guilty and stubborn all at once. "I'm not expecting you to stand by me. Just...be in my life." That came out quietly, but with a heavy yet somehow hopeful tone to it.
Then he took a deep breath and lifted his head to meet his brother's gaze squarely. "And did it ever occur to you that I did what I did so I could be in a position to help you now?" Neither of them were stupid, and the outcome of that night had seemed inevitable. Yet here Loren was, trying to dig Neron out of the mess they'd found themselves in.
"You sound so happy about it." Still, the relief on the healer's features was practically overwhelming. "And I've decided I'm allowed to be selfish every once in a while." Though his tone was wry, it was a true statement. "Thank you. And we'll figure out what you want to do. Promise." He held out his hand as if to shake on it, which seemed weirdly formal but also right.
"When do we stop being outsiders?" Neron wanted to know, taking another generous drink from his glass. Chance would be a fine thing, to get drunk, but no - Neron just wanted to almost taste the wine, that's all. And perhaps it was unfair to burden Loren with his questions like this, but his world had just turned upside down. Sue him.
Letting out a long sigh and closing his eyes for a moment, his eyebrows drew together in a frown. "Forgive me - it is not exactly an occasion for jumping for joy. As I said, I'll stay if that is what you want." At least until he could wrap his head around all of this. "What is your place now, in the Citadel?" Weaver might have booted him off the cabinet, for all he knew.
Still, he couldn't buy that Loren had orchestrated the situation just so he could be of best use now. "No, it didn't. You went off to do your own thing. If they had decided to kill me or throw me out, you'd not have been around to be in a position to help," Neron said. There was no vitriol in his words, but he was nonetheless honest.
Loren sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "We don't." It came out in a blunt and unhappy tone, and he took a long drink from his wine. "But I've pretty much been an outsider my whole life. You get used to it." It didn't ever hurt any less, but it turned into a familiar pain.
"Thank you." It came out as a breath. For a moment the careful control he had on his emotions slipped and his expression grew grief stricken before he slipped on a neutral mask again. Still, some of the tension had eased out of him. "I'm still the Grand Healer." He watched Neron's reaction to that bit of news carefully.
Pinching his nose, the healer nodded. "That's fair. But they didn't. I was certain they weren't going to make any decisions about your fate that night. It literally didn't occur to me that you'd be in any danger." Lowering his hand, he pressed his lips together. "Even if you were, you are an Ascended and one of the most powerful mages I've met. You would have been able to hold your own if things went sideways."
However, in the end, he just gave his brother a look that was equal parts helpless and hopeful. "Look, maybe I fucked up then, but I'm here now. And I will help you, whether you want it or not." Loren's posture had grown ramrod straight, and his chin had gained that stubborn bent he got when he wasn't willing to budge on something.
"What a delightful future I have to look forward to. At least I can get used to it," Neron said, finishing his wine and setting the ice glass in an empty bowl nearby where it could melt away. Hearing that his brother was still Grand Healer was not as jarring as Loren might expect, Neron raising an eyebrow and nodding. "Good to hear. You were well suited for it," he murmured, and at the expression on Loren's face, however brief, the Hailstorm patted the space beside him on the bed to invite him to sit.
He listened quietly as his brother justified and complimented, apologised and insisted, and in the end Neron found that he had no venom left to spit. He'd gotten it out of his system, the sharp comments, the upset, and now the world was still as it was. He had to learn to deal with it, at least until the future became more clear. "Then I suppose I should get busy accepting that help," he muttered. "I'm sorry to hear about the clinic you set up. I'll be happy to help you rebuild, or to make a temporary space throughout Deepfrost."
A small silence, then Neron spoke again - something niggling in the back of his head. "Loren, have you ever met the Voice?"
Loren just sighed a ran a hand through his hair. "You can." It came out quietly. However, he lifted his chin and met Neron's gaze squarely. "Just...talk to me this time, okay?" The healer bit his lip, though he managed not to look away from his brother.
Shrugging, Loren scratched the back of his head. "I'm not so sure about that, but I appreciate you saying it." Hesitating for just a moment, he went to set on the bed next to Neron.
The healer rubbed his hands together as he waited for his brother to speak. When Neron finally did, Loren's relief was palpable. Waving away the apology, he nevertheless gave his brother a grateful look. "I'll let you know what I plan to do about that."
Surprised at the question, the healer gave Neron a sharp look. However, Loren's expression softened soon enough. "I have. Why do you ask?" There was a great deal of curiosity in his voice, though he wouldn't press.
"I'll do my best," Neron said of opening up to his brother. It wasn't something familiar or comfortable to him, but at the same time he was much different to the man who had been so bad at it so long ago. Still, he did have to disagree with Loren's second comment, elbowing his twin playfully. "Listen, I was Warden and I gave you that title, so someone must have believed it. What makes you think any different?"
All the death, probably. But Neron had neglected to think about the implications of Loren's survivor's guilt. Either way, he would be there to help with the clinic, if and when it was to be set back up, and that was the end of it.
He had braced for the sharp look as he brought up the Voice, and honestly he hadn't actually expected Loren to have met her. That was simultaneously good and bad, in his estimation. "I suppose I was going to ask what you thought of her," he said. "I found her pragmatic... fair, even. But I know that isn't the general impression."
