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!
Nodding, Loren gave Neron a sad, but grateful smile. "Thank you. And I promise to do the same." Hesitating, the healer rubbed his palms on his thighs. "I was planning to have a funeral for Jace. If you'd like to be there..." Voice trailing off, his expression grew awkward.
However, he yelped in protest as his brother elbowed him. Loren opened his mouth to make an ill-advised comment about Neron's stint as Warden, froze, then closed it. Instead, the healer just rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "My cripplingly low self-esteem." He nudged his brother with a shoulder, trying to pay Neron back for the elbow.
Sighing, Loren shrugged. "Don't worry, I'm not one of those anti-Voice fanatics." Tone wry, he hummed thoughtful as he considered his answer. "Pragmatic is right. Kind to her Ascended and other followers, and ignores everyone else. She doesn't let anything stand in her way, for good or ill." Biting his lip, he look at the floor. "I can't say I agree with her methods, but her goal is understandable. Then again, I can't agree with any of the gods, really."
The mention of Jace had Neron's jaw tightening, and he gave his brother a quick nod, his steel blue eyes somewhere off and out of the window again. "I'll be there. You just let me know where and when," he said, trying hard to compartmentalise the small memories he did hold of the boy, running his fingers through his fair hair. The nudge of Loren's shoulder was a good excuse to change the subject, and Neron tsked at him.
"Better get that self-esteem up, Grand Healer. No room for those who don't believe in themselves in a place like this," he murmured, managing a lopsided smile at the assurance that Loren wasn't an anti-Voice fanatic. "Glad to hear it... And you're right there. If my interactions with the gods here have taught me anything, it's that there is no right way. I just wanted your opinion, I suppose. Morgan does not share your view."
Nodding, Loren pressed his lips together. It was all he could do not to let fresh tears spring to his eyes. At Neron's words, though, the healer sighed. "Got any tips for me?" He rubbed his palms against his thighs, staring down at the ground.
However, his eyes snapped up at the mention of Morgan. Meeting his brother's gaze, Loren's expression hardened. "The Voice might have done a lot of bad, even evil things, but so have the old gods. Fuck, so has the Eirachi."
His hands clenched into fists. "Hating someone just because they're an Ascended is no better than hating someone because they're Abandoned." Gritting his teeth, he actually growled a little. "And if Morgan has any further problems with you, I will happily show her the error of her ways."
Neron's smile was crooked, a little sharp even. "Hundreds," he said of the tips he could give his brother. "If you can manage nothing else, though, fake it 'til you make it." He nodded at the door. "Every time we go out there in front of people, we put on a mask. Make yours perfect, and you might even start to believe it." And what happened then, behind closed doors, was nobody else's business but one's own.
The healer's anger towards Morgan was understandable if not a little unexpected, and Neron reached out to lay a hand upon Loren's arm, as if to leech away the anger. "I would ask you not to," he said. "Morgan is a product of Halo through and through, and she is a very powerful ally. I promise you that," he said. "Rather than show her the error of her ways, it would be of much more use to teach her yours. Work together," he suggested. "That ship has sailed for me, and I don't really mind."
Loren gave Neron a sad smile. "I used to be good at masks." Shrugging, the healer ran a hand through his hair. "Still am, if I'm being honest." He sighed. "I'm just trying to be more honest these days. With myself and everyone else." Letting out a humorless laugh, his expression grew wry.
Nodding slowly at his brother's response, Loren felt feathers ruffling their way through his hair. It was a sign of how exhausted he was that he didn't have better control of his shifts. "I'll let you handle her. But only because I know that you a more than a match for her." Reaching over, he laid his hand over Neron's, drawing comfort from the touch and trying to convey some as well.
"Masks aren't all bad. Consider it practice, for something you want to be an honest thing about you," Neron reasoned, shrugging his shoulder. Confidence had never been something he'd been lacking, but that didn't mean everyone found it so easy. Chuckling, he couldn't say that he entirely agreed with Loren's appraisal of the situation between he and Morgan, but the vote of confidence was nice regardless.
Raising an eyebrow at the feathers, he gave his twin's arm a brief squeeze before scooting to the edge of the bed. "You look like hell," he remarked. "How long did you put aside for this visit? Sleep, if you can. You need it more than I do."
"Too bad people don't like me for who I am, hm? It came out in a drawl. However, Loren nodded at Neron's advice. "I will think about that."
Letting out another humorless laugh, the healer shook his head. "Gee, thanks." Shrugging, he scrubbed his face with his hands. "I set aside as much time as you needed. Or wanted." Hesitantly, he studied his brother's features, not sure how he would react to that.
Much more quietly, Loren added, "I don't sleep much. Less so nowadays." Rubbing his hands together, his expression grew distant. "Too many nightmares." Not that Neron really needed that explanation, considering what they'd both been through.
"And why do you care what they think?" Neron drawled right back, a smile playing upon his lips. "If you like you for who you are, the rest of the world can fuck off." And that, in essence, was probably why Neron did not have issues with self esteem. Content with himself how he was, he laughed off the opinions of the masses.
Loren studied him hard and the Hailstorm stared right back, as if to consider how much time he did want around his twin. Regardless, he still left the bed to Loren, should he want to rest even if he didn't sleep. "Nightmares can be fixed," he said; as a healer, he assumed Loren had the knowledge of many a sleeping draught. Meandering to the window, his brows furrowed and he glanced over his shoulder to Loren.
Biting his lip, Loren looked away, not able to meet Neron's gaze. "Because my upbringing has left me with an almost crippling need for validation and approval." The healer didn't sound sad about that, just matter of fact.
Scooting back until he was resting his back against the wall, he kicked off his boots and pulled his knees into his chest. "They can be." Following his brother's gaze, Loren stared out the window as best he could from his position.
Shaking his head, he shrugged a bit. "Some of them. Some of them are of the cultists I killed, or the guards I failed to save. Some are from the other monsters I've faced."
Taking a deep breath, he let his head fall back until it hit stone. "Most are from the cells they tossed me in growing up, though. Or...elsewhere in the compound." Despite his best efforts, his voice wavered on that last comment.
"Don't worry too much. I've been dealing with them pretty much my entire life. A few more added to the mix isn't going to change much." This time, at least, he managed to keep both his tone and expression neutral.
"Mm..." Neron wasn't dismissive, but it was only a very recent thing for him to so much as consider his brother as a person in his own right, and every conversation like this broadened horizons that had been blinkered for much of his life. "All the people you might have wanted approval from are dead now," he pointed out. "Our father, in particular." Neron wasn't particularly sad about that, truthfully.
Leaning against the window sill, the Hailstorm watched the snow come down outside, and distantly his body registered the cold seeping through the glass. "Then fix them," he suggested to Loren. "At least for a while. The Citadel needs someone who will be there when he's needed. Not someone who will burn out because he didn't fix a problem."
Feeling himself becoming matter of fact, possibly dismissive, Neron took a long breath and let it out again, turning to lean back against the window sill, watching his brother. "It might change everything," he said, his challenge gentle. "How long before you stop bending, and break instead?"
"Maybe." Loren shrugged. "But there are others I seek approval from now." However, he inclined his head at Neron to acknowledge the point.
Sighing, the healer ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not in any danger of breaking. Those days are long behind me." He gave his brother a pointed look. "I appreciate your concern, though." Loren's tone indicated he wasn't sure if the concern was genuine or not.
Shaking his head a bit, he shifted his weight slightly. "All my sleep aids went down with the Palace, unfortunately. So I'm trying more natural solutions." Despite everything, a slight flush crept into his cheeks, and he looked away from Neron.
However, the healer found himself taking a deep breath. "Fine. I will deal with my sleeping problems in a responsible way. But only if you do me the courtesy of talking to me about your own problems when they crop up." He looked and sounded determined.
"And yet, the only one you aren't seeking approval from is yourself." Neron sighed, drawing a deep breath on reflex and sighing, folding his arms across his chest. "Concern goes both ways, little brother. You offered me yours, the least I can do is reciprocate." Especially in this world where the Launceleyns were not the be all and end all, where there was no Cyton to impress, no monarchy to serve and fear in equal measure.
Given that he was unable to blush any longer, Neron couldn't help but pick up on the flush in Loren's cheeks, and a smirk curled its way across his lips. "Why, you rascal," he said, putting two and two together (and hopefully not being completely off base). "And who is the lucky person, might I ask?"
Nodding in acceptance, Neron put his hand over his no-longer-beating heart. "I will. My main problem is not being able to leave this room currently, but I expect I will have more information on that soon enough." A certainty, in fact, considering the thread that has already happened in the future, lol.
Snorting, Loren shook his head. "That's not true. I'm seeking approval from people other than myself too." However, his expression softened as Neron went on. "I appreciate it. Maybe...maybe we can try to make it a more regular occurrence." The healer bit his lip, looking almost hopeful even in the midst of his doubts.
Ruffling his hair sheepishly, he shook his head helplessly. "You're probably not going to like the answer," he warned, glancing up at his brother. Taking a deep breath, Loren tried to stem his embarrassment and stop the blush from creeping up even further. "Weaver."
Uncoiling from his ball, he nodded. "We'll talk further when you have secured your freedom, then." Realizing how formal that sounded, he sighed. "Let's make our ancestors roll over in their fiery graves and actually try to be actual brothers?" The end of the question ended tentatively.
"Well, keep it balanced and you should be able to shrug off the last shackles of our upbringing, in time. And look, you didn't even have to literally become something else to do it." Neron flashed his brother a fanged grin to accompany that; Loren's coping mechanisms might be unhealthy sometimes, but he hadn't literally given up his ability to feel pain or pleasure for it. "Maybe so," he agreed nonetheless. "Bit late for me to reverse what I've done, but for future issues, sure."
The enjoyment Neron took from seeing Loren so flustered was far from the vindictiveness his brother might have seen in the past; no, this was pure fun at being able to prod at his twin's personal life. Whether he didn't like it or not was irrelevant - and heaving Weaver's name fall from his lips, while it had his eyes widening, was not a bombshell other than because he had not thought her Loren's type, so to speak.
Having to hide his smile behind his fingers, Neron tried and failed not to look even a little proud of Loren. "Well aren't you full of surprises," he murmured, before nodding. "It would be my pleasure," he said. "We will talk again soon, then."
