hold on till morning

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

The following night finds her here. Alone, as she must grow accustomed to now. Atlas was not the first to have been torn from her soul, but it is a pain that does not grow easier with repetition. She sits on the beach as the sun begins to sink, watching as it bleeds the ocean into wine-stained hues as crimson taints the cloud dotted sky. Long blonde hair drifts idle and limp in the wind, linen skirt fluttering halfheartedly across the sand in turn. She paints a lonely figure, almost mythical in her solitude.

There are no tears. Even alone, there is no indulgence. It is not her way. Instead, she watches the sun glide in slow dying trajectory across the horizon, and wraps her arms around her knees like a child. There is nothing left but this.

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Maeve

It's the first she's left Locke's side since he came home. There had been time for resting and making sure they were both okay, but there was someone else that she needed to find. The Madame wasn't even sure where to start, wandering through the town and looking for any signs of the other woman, but finding none. She's doesn't really know how she find herself on the beach, walking along the coast close to sunset in hopes of finding her by sheer dumb luck at his point. What is she even going to say? What can she say? I'm sorry I couldn't save him? I'm sorry I don't know how to really fight? I'm sorry this happened? None of those seem good enough. How can her words make up for what happened?

Even though the blood isn't on her hands, the loss weighs heavy on her heart as her feet carry her across the hand, shoes held in one hand. Maeve adjusts the shawl around her shoulders, the wind blowing coolly off the ocean as the sun begins to sink below the horizon. Sea glass green eyes shift from the wine stained waters as waves lap at the shore, drawing her gaze to the stretch of beach before her. A lone figure sits and at first Maeve isn't sure it's her, but the golden hair, even hanging limply is unmistakable to her. She speeds up, feet slipping in the white sands as she hurries towards the other woman, "Ru!" The name is choked, catching in her throat as she prays that she's right. That is is in fact Hotaru and that she's not hurt.

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

The silence is broken by a cry of her name, and as her spine tightens defensively she mourns Atlas' loss anew, for he would have been her guard here upon the sand. Hotaru doesn't move even as the voice registers, feminine and wild and relieved in a way nobody else would dare to be upon seeing her right now. It could only be Maeve.

What else is there to do though? Sit and let her come? She is living only by each moment, each heartbeat; no further plans upon the horizon aside from those she has discussed with Deimos. All on his behalf more than her own. So she stands, because she must. Turns bare feet in the sand to watch Maeve barrel down across it, dress stained with smoke and Apopo's ash, her hands blackened. Ironic then that they'd been clean upon fleeing the Slagveld. "Maeve," comes streaking out of her tired throat, just loud enough to be heard. At least the Madame is okay.

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Maeve

The figure stands at the sound of her voice and reliefs washes through her. The same kind of relief she felt when Locke came home yesterday. Her breath leaves her in a rush as she comes to a stop before the other woman, not hesitating to throw her arms around Hotaru's slender frame even as her own name pushes past the former queen's lips. Maeve clutches her tightly for a moment, holding her safely in her arms as she struggles to find the words, coming up short even as her throat tightens. She shakes her head as she draws back, eyes glassy, but she refuses to shed any tears. Not when Ru hasn't allowed herself to do so either. "I'm sorry, Ru... I'm so sorry. I- I tried." Maeve's sure she knows. That she likely felt it through the now severed bond between her and Atlas.

Another breath as she looks at her, hands coming up to cradle her face as sea glass eyes scan her for any clear injuries, but she comes up short. There is nothing amiss besides a shattered heart and soot covered clothes. It's not even a thought to tug her forward, pressing a kiss to her lips that makes her chest ache as she tries to pour everything she was feeling into that one connection as if Ru could feel it too. Only when her lungs burn does she draw back, pressing their foreheads together, "I was so worried about you. I wanted to find you last night, but I was afraid it wouldn't be safe.."

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

The impact of Maeve's body against her own is like a ripple of sensation in an otherwise still, dark lake. It takes a prolonged moment before her arms remember they are supposed to come up to hold the woman in return. Everything feels like a series of recorded actions and reactions now. Apologies like water over her skin, incapable of penetrating any deeper. As her eyes close, inhaling Maeve's scent, she recalls Atlas' flashes of the woman's hand on his punctured neck and feels the first shiver of emotion. "Thank you," she whispers through numb lips. The effort of trying even in the face of failure is not beyond Hotaru.

Hotaru's skin is wind-chilled beneath Maeve's hands, as if the sun has not managed to find her here. Mismatched irises veiled and distant. Still she goes into the kiss willingly, her own hands limp where they cling to Maeve's waist. As they part, she opens her eyes to watch the merging of their hair, blonde and black as together it creates a meager wall that separates them from the world at large. "I am not so easy to hurt." And how she aches with the desire that Aurelia had faced her like a woman and not a coward, had tried to fell an actual opponent instead of an innocent soul. Lifting her hands like anchors that weigh her down, Hotaru covers Maeve's hands with her own and breathes slowly through her nose as her eyelids fall shut. "You must leave me, Maeve." An echoing ring to her voice like an alarm bell on a ship's mast as it threatens to capsize in a storm.

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Maeve

Every movement from her new lover is slow, going through the motions even as she seems to find herself somewhere else than on this beach with Maeve, but the Madame is not so easily deterred. Not when it comes to the people she cares about. Sea glass green eyes search the mismatched gaze before her, looking for any sign of the fire she knew the woman to be filled with, but she doesn't see it. Not now. Barely a flicker of an ember in her soul. Thumbs gently swipe across chilled skin as if to work warmth into with just her touch alone, but she knows it's not so easy. It won't ever be that easy. No with the loss that is currently holding Hotaru in a death grip. Her brows knit together in confusion at her words, shaking her head as she struggles to understand. Was there still danger? Would it really be so bad to linger here with her?

"Why?" Maeve breathes, throat tightening as she gazes down at the other woman, swallowing thickly against the quickly growing lump that seems to lodge itself in her windpipe. "Please don't say that. I want to be here for you.." The words are a whisper, caught in the wind and the waves as she laces their fingers together, giving her hand a squeeze without a care of getting her own dirty. There is very little that could make her keep her distance right now. Hotaru's concerns be damned. They could figure it out. Whatever it was.

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

Hotaru submits herself to Maeve’s searching gaze, but even she doesn’t know what the Madame will find. There is only the numbness left inside from too many bonds broken and cauterized. The only way to ensure she didn’t bleed out after losing so many. It is an icy retreat into her mind, a crystalline palace that soothes the burning ache of a ripped soul. Maeve’s touch feels very far away, but at least her mind is present. Enough to tell her that she must do what comes next.

Hotaru gives a small squeeze of her fingers, listless but there all the same. Her tongue is thick, but the words must be said. “No, Maeve. You have to leave me entirely. Do you understand?” Tilting her gaze upward to stare into the woman’s seaglass eyes even as her hand rips at the budding roots of this new bond between them. “Rebuild your life here. Forget about me in every way you can.”

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Maeve

Oh, if the words don't sting. Her brows draw together, a crease forming between them in confusion as her lips part to argue. No. She doesn't understand. Why? Why is this the path that Hotaru believes they need to take? The Madame stays frozen for what seems like hours, fingers intertwining with hers as they stand their on the beach, sharing each others warmth for what might be the last time. Maeve finally draws in a sharp breath, shaking her head, "No. You can't make me. You can't ask me to do that, Ru." The words are strong. Stronger than she feels right now, but there is conviction behind them a she holds the other woman's gaze steadily.

"I know this is new and we've barely had a moment to really... really become anything, but we could be something. Don't you want that? Don't you want to see what we could be together, Ru?" Because there was something here. Something that Maeve didn't really understand, but something none the less. Maeve loves Locke. She wants him in her life. It isn't an option not to have him, but she would be lying to herself if she said there weren't feelings here. It was why she tried to save Atlas. It was why she told Seren not to mention Ru. It was why she was willing to intervene at all.

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

Even beneath the milky vagueness of her hurt, Hotaru is too well-versed in expressions to miss the hurt as it curls like smoke on Maeve's fair features. She can't feel it all the same, the guilt that may have surfaced hours before now. There is only the silence of a bond that should have been - whether that is Maeve's or Atlas' is beyond her. Only the bedrock of surety that she must do this remains.

"I cannot make you, no. But I can enforce it myself." Ignored letters, ripped and thrown into the flames. Turned back when seeing the woman in the streets. Shuttered blinds and locked doors. It may hurt Maeve, but it will keep her safe, and that is all Ru needs to know in order to protect herself from regret, guilt, or weakness.

For a brief moment her eyes soften, but it is a sad thing. "What I want is meaningless. This is who I am, and I will not have you stained with the blood I choose to draw." Skin that she had explored with her mouth and hands, unblemished and unmarred, as Hotaru strives to keep it. Her hand squeezes at Maeve's, and the smile she tries to summon falls flat. "I doubt I'll be welcome here, if I am not tossed into jail by Jata first thing. Your life is here, your entire history; you told me so yourself. You will find someone far better for you than me, Maeve. You are still so young." Too young. Hotaru won't see that young life extinguished or embittered due to connection to the Valkyrie, whose life had long been lived in shadows.

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Maeve

Doesn't she get a choice? Why does Ru get the final say in this? Her words are sound, leaving no room for argument from the Madame. The Valkyrie has made her decision and it's to leave Maeve behind. A breath is drawn in, shallow and almost pained as she struggles to understand. No one knows it was Hotaru who set the fire. What is there to protect her from? A soft noise rises in her throat and tears spring to her eyes, threatening to fall as she shakes her head as if it might convince the woman before her to change her mind.

"No one knows it was you, Ru... No one saw you." The words surely fall on deaf ears, the other woman already sound in her decision despite how desperately Maeve might wish otherwise. She looks down at where their toes are buried in the sand, hands trembling as they hold onto Hotaru, trying to think of anything that she could say. For a second in time it seems like Hotaru might of soothed the Madame into submission, ready to give her belly to the other woman and take everything she says lying down, but there is still a bit of fire left in her. Ru's might have gone out, but Maeve wasn't ready to be doused just yet.

Maeve shakes her head, "You don't get to decide if you're not good for me. You don't get to say that there is someone better. Only I can make that choice. Make whatever choice you want for yourself, Ru, but you don't get to decide for me." She says firmly even as her voice trembles with emotion, tears shining in her eyes as sea glass green finds her mismatched gaze. Even with that out there, Maeve knows that this is likely goodbye. An ache grows in her chest, but she tries her best to ignore it.

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

A soft, regretful sound leaves her throat as she lifts a hand to cup Maeve's cheek gently with hands that are still stained with soot despite how many times she'd washed them in the ocean's waves. "Atlas himself may have been recognized. And this is not the end, Maeve. The plans I have, what I've sworn...though they may take me elsewhere, they will not be any less dangerous." It will surely do little to comfort the younger woman, to ease the burn of Hotaru's cutting of their threads, but she won't leave the Madame wondering either. "I may have hoped, for us..." she trails off, shaking her head slightly and letting her hand drop from Maeve's cheek, leaving only their connected hands. "But I can't drag you into my world. It is one you wouldn't survive in for long." Especially with the war approaching, upping the stakes on both sides. Hotaru will be fighting a war on two sides if her identity is discovered, and Maeve is scarcely built for war at all.

"I don't get to decide it for you. But I can decide, as someone who cares for you, that I'd rather see you sad than dead. And I can make the choice to remove myself, as someone who would invite that fate." A soft sigh leaves her, regretful that she must do this at all. This is a tie that must be broken, ends frayed and burned. All that has happened since the fire has only proven to Hotaru that love is something she cannot keep wishing for and trying to obtain. Happy endings were never written into her story, and she does not have the power to change the ending. "I need you safe, Maeve. And I won't have you waiting on me by saying maybe in the future, if this ends well. I need you to move on." Unaware that in a way, the woman already has. If she knew, she would likely be torn between hurt and relief; at least Locke would be around to love Maeve in the aftermath of Hotaru's leaving.

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Maeve

Whatever plans Hotaru have don't end here and are likely to grow more risky. Does the woman just see another source of pain when she looks at her? Something to be used against her? To hurt her? Maeve isn't sure, but she wouldn't be surprised. Even trying to soothe herself with that knowledge leaves a bitterness on her tongue that she doesn't know how to swallow. It isn't fair. None of it is and she wants to argue, to scream and shout, but whatever fight she has in her is slowly dying. Not even the admission that Hotaru had hoped to grow with her can rally it. Instead it only adds to the ache growing in her chest. Despite herself, she leans into Hotaru's touch, letting herself have this moment of comfort. "I'm not weak, Ru... I can defend myself."

She was learning. Didn't that count for something? She might not have magic or the ability to shift or anything like that, but she was learning to fight. The Madame wasn't helpless. Except they both knew that the chances of her surviving in a battle aren't good. The war is coming and Maeve isn't made for it. She isn't battle hardened like Hotaru. She's never taken a life. She's not even sure she is capable of it. As much as she hates to admit it, Hotaru is right about this. Maeve wouldn't last, but fuck if she wouldn't try, but that isn't even an option.

A sniffle leaves her as she squeezes her eyes shut, feeling so incredibly small and almost childish for the tears that slip down her cheeks as she stands in front of the former queen. "No one would have to know, Ru... We could keep it just between us." As if it makes a difference. It doesn't. She's making the suggestion in vain, but it doesn't stop her from saying it anyway. One last attempt. One last try to hold onto something that never could be. She loves Locke, it's true. He loves her too and he will take care of her. Hotaru can count on that much, but Maeve doesn't possess a heart so small that she can't harbor feelings for more than one. If only that person wanted her too.

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

Yes, Maeve can defend herself. But against what foes? To what degree? Hotaru’s lightning alone could likely kill her with a single touch, and the Valkyrie is only too aware of that. The types of enemies Hotaru intends to face are ones Maeve could never stand against. And so Ru must make this choice. To keep Maeve safe. “You can. But I will not drag your hand forcefully to the blade when I can leave, and let them remain tools of pleasure and not pain.” To have Maeve remain unblemished by such horrors.

The tears pull at what remains of her heart. She leans forward to press her lips to Maeve’s crinkled brow, and wishes she had tears of her own to spare. To prove to Maeve she is not unaffected, that this is a necessary cruelty and not a flighted fancy. “You are not a secret to be kept Maeve. You are a shining gem that deserves to be displayed proudly. And until that time when I can do so safely, I will not keep you only to hide you.” Withdrawing, she gently pulls on their laced hands. It is time to go.

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Maeve

There were so many things in Caido that could snuff out the Madame's light. It would be ridiculous to think that Maeve could stand a chance against the foes that Hotaru is sure to face. She hates to think that she's too weak to hold her own, but the idea that she could be a burden to Ru hurts even more. Maeve inhales sharply, forcing her eyes open to meet Hotaru's gaze, a tightness in her chest that she can't seem to get past. "It won't be like that forever. You know that I won't be able to stay out of this war. No one will be able to." This might just be delaying the inevitable, but Maeve doesn't blame her for trying to keep her safe for as long as she can.

Lips press between her brows, a tender kiss left on her forehead as tears slip down her cheeks, falling into the between them. She licks dry lips, trying to find words, but instead she's struck silent. The waves crash around them, Hels crying out above as the sun begins to sink on the last moments of their relationship. "Please try to keep yourself safe too. For me." Maeve murmurs, reaching up to wipe her own tears away as she looks down at the other woman, slipping her hand to her cheek cupping it for a moment longer.

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth