you can run but only so far

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

Walks weren't something Maeve did much of before. Usually her time was filled with working. It still is, but not the same as before. This work is harder. Strenuous. It strains her body, pushing it to the limit, making her do things she hasn't before. Maeve misses the easier night. Where she simply had to use her body and her mind for witty banter and pleasure. Giving and receiving whispered compliments and sly touches. Part of her longs for that attention again. If only because it was so familiar. So comforting. That isn't on the table for some time. So instead she walks.

Her feet carry her across the sands, back towards that cathedral of glass, Aidon bounding ahead of her and sniffing at everything in his path, picking up shells occasionally to bring back to her like he did with Melita. Maeve accepts each one, slipping them into her pockets for safe keeping as she strolls, the sun sinking down below the horizon to paint the sky. Burning reds, fiery oranges, and gentle strokes of pink flaring out across the clouds. She's lost in thought, barely paying any mind to her surroundings, mind wandering over all the recent events that have plagued the shores of her home.

Maeve

ransom notes keep falling out your mouth, mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs
speak no fear, no i don't believe you. you don't care a bit. you don't care a little bit.

Has he gone hunting to clear his head? Yeah. Did he decide against the form of his panther to take down a ramphire this time? Also yes. Something about the day seemed to scream getting lost in the ocean for a bit (as if he hasn’t already gotten lost for days on end there). But he’d managed it, hunted, cleared his head a fraction though when he gets back to dry land his muscles are still taught with tension, his gaze still shadowed and stormy, soaking wet from the water.

There’s something similar about the way he appears as he rises from the ocean, starts to dry off as he walks down the sandbar, hair finger combed back despite the horns that curl out from his skull and the armored plates of his dragon shift that seem almost near permanent along his shoulders and arms. He almost doesn’t notice her as they walk – but his instincts tell him that she’s there as well as something else which draws his attention a bit more intensely.

His gaze locks on the dragon, before he pauses in his step. “Maeve.” It’s another hoarse rumble, gaze snapping over to her face after his greeting is uttered.

SUNJATA

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

It's easy to miss him even though his presence is overwhelmed. So lost in her own thought the Flood might merely be a trickle in her mind. Nothing more and nothing less. Aidon sees him first, sending a warning along their bond, attempting to pull her from her thoughts as she stops in front of her. Wings flare in warning as he puffs up his chest. He's no larger than a small dog even though he's growing by the day. It's her name suddenly being called out that has her steps faltering.

Seaglass eyes snap up, locking onto Sunjata and she manages a small smile for him, slowing down to meet him. "Jata... How are you feeling?" A loaded question depending on he decides to answer. How were things at home? Kamaria? The investigation? Nate? So many factors. She half expected him to fin her sooner. For him to have questions, but Aurelia must have told him everything, deciding there wasn't more to glean from her.

Maeve

ransom notes keep falling out your mouth, mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs
speak no fear, no i don't believe you. you don't care a bit. you don't care a little bit.

The dragon spies him and Sunjata finds his gaze lingering on the black and fire colored dragon – something reminiscent in his mind of Phoebe’s dragon and the way he was often greeted by the pink creature. This isn’t too different, minus the bared teeth, but the warning is clear and Sunjata finds himself tearing his gaze away from the creature – an inch away from rolling his eyes – before Maeve stops and offers him a small smile of greeting.

How is he feeling? Pretty terrible. Physically and mentally. In fact, the words almost slip his tongue if it weren’t for the angered barking voice of his father that has snuck its way back in alongside his own, tampering it down so that the only thing that leaves his lips is a: “Fine.” It’s hit or miss, but an answer nonetheless.

His horned head tilts a fraction, the silence overcoming them aside from the waves that break on either side of them. “The Halenani is nearly done now, yeah?” That’s a safer topic. Easier.

SUNJATA

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

Maeve huffs a soft laugh at Aidon's display, sending a gentle reassurance along their bond that this newcomer is of no danger, soothing him enough that he draws his wings back in. There aren't any bared teeth or growls. Just the little show he gives in front of her before taking a few steps back and moving to stand at her side instead, head cocking to the side inquisitively, orange eyes glowing in the dimming light. "He takes his job very seriously. Sorry." Maeve offers the soft apology, knowing Sunjata isn't likely intimidated by the little thing, not when he was a dragon himself. She won't tell Aidon that, not wanting to discourage his protective nature, but knowing that he would really be no match for Sunjata.

The single word is dismissive and she knows it's a lie. He's not fine. Maeve sighs, a faint prickle of irritation crawling across her skin at his tight lipped response, eyes narrowing as she looks him over. Fine. Fine. Fine. He's anything but. That much was clear to anyone who knew how to look. The scales on his shoulders are the first thing to give it away, covering his skin much like they did the first night they met in this very spot, a shield against the world. Maeve doesn't push, knowing it won't do much good right now, not when he's already so wound tight.

Instead she lets the conversation shift to the Halenani and the rebuilding efforts, nodding in confirmation before she speaks, "We're getting ready to start the last major bit of construction. Roof, windows, doors and the like... Then it's just the final touches. I think we might be done by the end of the season. Maybe the first week of next at the latest." Maeve tells him, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, hesitation flickering in her gaze as she considers her next words carefully, "I know you have a lot going on right now and I know that's the understatement of the season... But I'm not expecting your help if it's too much." She tells him gently, taking another small step forward, closing a bit more distance between them. Maeve doesn't reach out to touch him. She makes no move to engage beyond closing the distance so he doesn't have to strain his voice so much. So they might speak a little more quietly.

"How is Kamaria? Doing well, I hope. I'm sure she's growing by the day." Another safe topic. Something that Maeve hopes won't be crossing the line. The Madame has spent time with the girl, helped with her during the monsoons. It makes sense she would want to know how she was doing. There are harder things they need to talk about. Things that neither of them want to broach. Hotaru, the fires, the state of Torchline in general. All of these hang over them, an anvil waiting to drop on them both, crushing them beneath the weight of it all.

Maeve

ransom notes keep falling out your mouth, mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs
speak no fear, no i don't believe you. you don't care a bit. you don't care a little bit.

The dragon stands down as it were, and Sunjata shifts his attention back to Maeve. She’s right, he isn’t intimidated by the display – if anything, he can relate to it more so now than ever before. “Don’t be sorry.” He offers with surprising ease. There wasn’t a reason to apologize for the dragon’s nature, that was a part of him as much as it was a part of Sunjata now, too.

And she’s right again, that he isn’t fine. But it’s the easiest thing to say and he clings to it. Luckily for him, she picks up on his offer of conversation of a safer topic, one that has him working his jaw – a small nod of his head. “I’ll help.” He murmurs quietly, because if nothing else it’s a good way to get out his frustration as well as be useful with it. And besides, he isn’t in a position to get to work on his guild or the Slagveld at present anyway, not with the letters that have been going back and forth between here and Halo.

So he works his jaw again and again, hands stuffing themselves into his pockets, chin tilting up as he loosens his shoulders as if it might relieve some of his tension. “She’s good.” He pauses, trying to think of where to begin that isn’t too much, lest his paranoia spark out at him again. “She is growing a lot, learning a lot. Has become surprisingly demanding about everything.” He sucks on his teeth a moment, before there’s a ghost of a smile that crosses his face as he shakes his head. “Wants tattoos like mine.”

SUNJATA

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

Maeve watches the feathering in his jaw, noting the tightness of his shoulders, the way his chest barely seems to move with his breathing. He's seconds away from snapping. It would just take one wrong push and he'd spiral. It's so painfully obvious and she longs to soothe it. If only because it was what came most naturally to her, taking away the pain, being a distraction. Maeve's fingers twitch at her sides, but she doesn't move besides wrapping her arms around her middle instead. "I appreciate it. That being done will be one less thing to worry about. I'll be able to take the last of my workers from the Wren Society." She hopes it'll be an ease off of his mind, knowing that this one thing is taken care of, no longer a loose end.

A quiet laugh bubbles up in her throat, head cocking to the side as she arches a brow, "Did you really expect anything else, dear Flood? She was always going to be a force of nature." There is a soft adoration in her voice, unable to help the way her feelings for the girl and her father grew, unable to truly get rid of them no matter how she wished to. Sunjata, it seems, will always have some hold on her. Part of why she was so worried about him. The way he never seems to go anywhere alone, the obvious distrust in his eyes, and the way he always seems ready to snap at any moment.

"I'm surprised I didn't see you sooner... Although, I'm sure you had plenty of other things to follow up on with the investigation." This is the truth. She'd been expecting him to darken her doorstep with his brooding, asking for answers, trying to understand. Yet he'd not come to find her. Their paths always crossing, but never intentionally and never alone.

Maeve

ransom notes keep falling out your mouth, mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs
speak no fear, no i don't believe you. you don't care a bit. you don't care a little bit.

“It will be.” One less thing to worry about, that is. Truthfully, he hasn’t worried about it much at all – knowing that Maeve would have a handle on it and do everything she could to finish it. It was one of the few he didn’t have to focus on. Not like the Wren Society and the Slagveld and the Advocates. Not like his governorship and ruling the entire region of Torchline, along with fixing up his offices for the Governor’s house.

As for Kamaria, though, her laugh mingles with the ghosting of his smile, nodding. “I didn’t know what to expect, truthfully.” He offers with a shrug of a single shoulder. He didn’t know what to expect from a child with his blood, let alone mixing it with a goddess. If he’s being honest, it sounds like a complete disaster – only due to his end. So far, though, it’s gone well, and Kamaria has been one solid pinpoint of comfort for him despite it all. He can fall apart so long as he’s together enough for her, and he would protect her with everything he could.

His gaze lands back on her, the smile fading as she mentions expecting to have seen him sooner and Sunjata’s nodding idly, huffing out a sigh that puffs up his cheeks a fraction and burns his throat to do so. “There has been a lot.” He agrees quietly, arms lifting to fold across his chest, claws tipping the both of them. “I still planned to, I just haven’t had a chance to yet. Though I guess now is as good a time as any.” He shrugs, working his jaw, swallowing against the burn again. “Let’s head back to the beach and you can tell me what happened.” So saying, he doesn’t give her much of a choice, stepping forward to head toward the beach where there was likely an abandoned fire awaiting, places to sit, some semblance of solitude to have this conversation – because he doesn’t have the Slagveld anymore to hold them.

SUNJATA

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

It's a small relief to know that she can at least do this for him. That she can take away his one thing off of his plate. Even if it wasn't a real worry of his. She had taken over the process as soon as she came back from her stint in Stormbreak, making preparations, working on fathering materials, organizing the construction. It's been a long process and she's glad to be close to finishing. "It's the least I can do..." Maeve murmurs, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as their conversation shifts, focusing on his daughter instead.

The smile that finds the way to his lips is barely there, not reaching the steel of his eyes beyond a faint spark, but Maeve accepts it nonetheless. "I know you didn't, but I think she's been good for you." Even if he was worried that the fact that she had a part of him would do more harm than good or that Safrin was the only good part of her. Maeve didn't think that was true. Kamaraia was one of the best things that had happened to him in a twisted way.

This is a conversation she wasn't looking forward to. It would be a tough one, potentially straining their relationship more than it already was, but it was one they needed to have. A heavy breath pushes past her lips as she nods, trailing after him, Aidon hot on her heels. "Of course." She murmurs, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, unable to keep the nervousness off of her features. They find their way to an abandoned fire, still burning and sparking, sending embers up against the darkening sky. Maeve lowers herself into the sand, drawing her knees up as her toes dig into the still warm shore, arms wrapping around the tops of her knees. Her companion trills softly, sensing her discomfort and doing what he can to soothe her, dropping his head against her arm.

"I'm sure Aurelia has told you what I told her, but I wanted to talk to you too." Maeve knows they've likely put the pieces together. Hotaru, while safe for the time being, would likely be brought back to Torchline. The former queen told her to expect as much, knowing that Atlas was recognized, while minute it would be enough to place her there. "I supposed I should start at the beginning... The night of I was coming back from the Halenani when I saw the smoke. I was heading back to Locke's and it was already late. I noticed Atlas outside the door and saw as he was stabbed." Maeve feels the sudden ache in her chest, recalling the cry of pain that came from the unicorn, the blood that ran down to soak his coat crimson. "I didn't know what was going on, but I rushed to help him. At the time, I wasn't aware of the fire inside. It wasn't coming out of the windows yet."

She reaches up to trail her fingers along the top of Aidon's head, needing to ground herself before she presses on, swallowing thickly as her eyes flick to him. The firelight casting his face in severe shadows and making him look harsher in this moment. "Everything happened quickly after that. Aurelia pushed me out of the way, stabbing Atlas in the eye as he tried to stand and I tried to stop her. I- I didn't know if Hotaru was nearby, but I couldn't just let Aurelia kill him. Not when I didn't think he'd done anything wrong." It was so complicated. None of it really making sense to her. She still didn't understand why Hotaru did any of it, but it was done and there was no going back now. "Seren appeared shortly after, trying to intervene as Aurelia sent up a wall of flame, engulfing Atlas before she transported him to her pocket space. It was too late at that point. He was gone. I was outside when Adam arrived and there was an attack on Aurelia. I couldn't see anyone. I just heard her cry out."

Maeve lets out a breath, bottom lip back between her teeth, biting at the chapped skin there. Her pulse rabbits in her chest, racing in comparison to the lapping of the waves against he shore, but her voice doesn't waver. "They ran after that. All of them. I retreated to the beach with Adam, telling him what I knew of you and Peter's departure, offering him one of the spare rooms I had a the inn for him to stay in. I went home after that. Locke came home too, having been at the Society when it was attacked, but I helped patch him up. The next morning I tried to find Hotaru. I wanted to tell her that I tried to help Atlas. I- I wanted to talk to her and ask why he was there. If she was involved. I didn't think she would do anything like that. When you told me about her leaving you said it was on good terms." She shakes her head, drawing in a breath as she prepares for the part that might be hard for him to hear, knowing that it won't be easy to say either. "Before monsoons, she stopped to help with Halenani.. We didn't talk much, but I reached out before the monsoons hit asking for help with my quest. I knew that she worked with glass and I thought we could make something suitable. I went to see her in Halo, she showed me the work, and I gave her a night of my company in return for her work. We didn't talk much about anything beyond the project and where she came from before. There was no mention of you or Nate or anything of the sort. She told me she would help with the construction of the Halenani. That was the last I spoke to her."

Maeve

ransom notes keep falling out your mouth, mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs
speak no fear, no i don't believe you. you don't care a bit. you don't care a little bit.

There’s a nod that’s given to Maeve, one that accepts the idea that Kamaria has been good for him. She has been – despite what Sunjata told himself, and he’s finally reached a point that has him realizing it. “She has been.” Another quiet response, one that’s almost considering the words carefully, despite being anything but. His throat still burns to speak, after all.

But she agrees to take up his offer and Sunjata leads the path to the abandoned fire, sinking down to his knees, sitting back on his ankles, finding his gaze lingering in a mix between the fire and her face as she begins to speak.

He remains silent for most of it, picking apart what Maeve says over what he had heard from everyone else. His gaze is neutral, even as she talks of death – so much of it haunted him now that the mask that he’s placed is a statue he settles behind as if his life were connected to it. In a way, it is, simply nodding as her story progresses and she continues.

His gaze narrows on her a fraction at the mention of seeing her in Halo, at the mention that Hotaru herself had said they’d ended on good terms. Because it certainly doesn’t feel like it. Not with what happened here. “She won’t be helping with the Halenani.” Sunjata comments as if it makes any difference. It doesn’t – it’ll be completed with or without the Valkyrie’s help.

But there’s another pause, a considering look that’s given to Maeve – because at this point, he has already talked to Hotaru over what has occurred even if it’s still ongoing and based off of what Maeve has offered up for information, it’s similar and yet not to the rest of the recounts he’s heard.

“So the only information you have regarding it is still just that you arrived to help Atlas and have no information of whether it was Hotaru that attacked Aurelia?” He cocks his head, regarding her curiously. “Hotaru and I have been in contact.” His tone is flat as his face is stony, pausing to consider the options laid before him – keeping most of them to himself. “Is there nothing else that comes to mind regarding her involvement?”

SUNJATA

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

He's quiet through the whole thing and she doesn't know if that's worse than him raging. If it was rage, she could handle it, work through it, bring him down from it. Except it isn't rage. It is silent and stony. Cold and calculating. He examines her with scrutiny in his steel gaze, jaw set, and shoulders tight. It sets her on edge, uneasiness palpable in the air, making Aidon shift minutely at her side.

Maeve locks eyes with him, "I didn't know she was able to use lightning. I knew she was Abandoned, but I didn't know her powers. So, no, I didn't know it was her who attacked Aurelia. She wasn't visible. I saw the light and heard the scream, but it was like it came from nowhere." This is true. Very true. Maeve honestly didn't know what Hotaru's powers were. That she was able to bend lightning to her will. If he really looks at her, meets her gaze and scans her features, it'll be clear that this isn't a lie. "I saw Atlas outside the door, a saw a man attack him as I approached after seeing the smoke, I tried to help him." She sighs heavily, dropping her chin towards her chest for a moment, sorting through the feelings that twist in her gut and finding she isn't able to.

"In regard to your ring? No, I'm sorry. The Wren Society... Jata, I don't know if you think it was her, but I don't think she would have done anything with my girls in there. With children in there. Locke was there when it happened and he didn't see anyone. He would have told me." Maeve draws her bottom lip between her teeth, fingers twisting in her skirt as her free hand strokes across Aidon's scales, tracing over the small horns at the top of his head.

Maeve

ransom notes keep falling out your mouth, mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs
speak no fear, no i don't believe you. you don't care a bit. you don't care a little bit.

It’s his mask – it always has been when he’s managed to build it up. And now? Now is as good a time as any to pull it out, patch up the holes, and try to keep himself together. And as Maeve moves to speak, that’s partially a mistake on her part. “I didn’t say whether I thought Hotaru was Aurelia’s attacker.” He comments offhandedly. “Nor did I mention anything about lightning magic.”

He gives her a few moments to digest what he’s found, his jaw working as he filters through everything else she says. “So you saw an invisible attacker, then?” He asks instead, given the information that Maeve has. She didn’t see the attacker but saw the light and heard Aurelia’s scream. That’s some indication enough, he imagines, given the fact that he knows how Hotaru’s magic works.

Still doesn’t answer much.

He believes her, though, at least during the recant of the events regarding Atlas, but he makes no move to say or do anything as she withdraws into herself. “Did you see anyone else?” He asks curiously, his voice still rough like sandpaper – worse off now from the explosion he’d had within the prison, but he still tries. “What did the man look like that attacked Atlas initially?” Sunjata knows it was Jack. Knows exactly what the Captain knows.

As for his ring? His head tilts this way and that and he’s pursing his lips as if considering the picture as a whole. “I don’t know what to think, Maeve.” He admits, quieter now as if it might help his throat. “All I know is that not just my building was burned, but Nate’s was too.”

SUNJATA

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

Maeve makes a soft sound in the back of her throat, brows pinching together as her own jaw feathers, frustration flaring for a moment at feeling as if he's trying to make her slip. "The way you worded the question made it sound like you did... As far as the lightning magic, Aurelia came to see me after and she has the same scars you do." She clarifies, letting out a breath she didn't realize was caught in her lungs, forcing herself to replace the stale air with something fresh.

He poses another question and she answers this one too, further explaining the events of that night. "I also saw the light from attack, but not the attacker. When I say it's like it materialized from nowhere, I mean it. The space was empty where it came from. I saw no one. It was like the magic was sourceles, but I don't know that to be possible." Maeve runs a hand through her hair, pushing windswept curls away from her face as her toes press into the sand, thinking back on that night. How the man had sunk the knife into the side of Atlas's neck before pressing inside. His back had been to her the entire time.

"I saw a man enter the building. His back was to me the whole time. Dark brown hair, shoulder length, standard build? It was dark and he was already inside by the time I was running forward to help Atlas." The Madame has no clue that it was Jack that had gone inside. She wasn't close when he exited and collected Aurelia, having retreated closer to the beach and away from the blaze that the Arbiter had set herself, making sure that Adam didn't run inside. "Seren arrived just before Aurelia burned Atlas. She transported him and herself to her pocket space. Adam came up shortly after, I kept him from rushing inside to look for Pet and we headed down to the beach away from the fire after it was extinguished. I didn't see anyone else exit the building, but I saw the same man that attacked Atlas running with Aurelia after she was attacked too."

Maeve isn't even sure that the Captain realized it was her. If he even saw her. "There was another companion outside, I think? It was hard to see it. The creature was very dark and seemed to blend in to its surroundings. I'd never seen one before." It had run away too, disappearing into the night, but Maeve knew nothing more than that. Didn't even know what it was.

She sighs, dropping her chin to rest on the tops of her knees, regarding him quietly for a moment as they both sit in the silence that settles over the beach. His voice is still rough and raw, throat no where near healed and she can't help shifting closer to him, not wanting to make him strain more than he has to. "I understand. I just don't know how it could have been her if it happened at the same time."

Maeve

ransom notes keep falling out your mouth, mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs
speak no fear, no i don't believe you. you don't care a bit. you don't care a little bit.

Her jaw feathers and her frustration is evident and Sunjata remains impassive, cold, quiet. “It hurts to talk, Maeve.” It’s an easier admission, something that’s absolutely evident in how he’s trying his hardest not to dive into everything so deep or so quick. He’s trying to get his point across in as few words as possible and if she misheard him, well, it happened he supposes.

But she dives into the fact Aurelia bears the same scars that he has and his gaze drifts to his right hand, to the pale branching scars from his hand that dive beneath Safrin’s tattoos, only to rise again at his chest. “Anything’s possible.” He shrugs, as if it makes it easier and not that much more fucking complicated than it already was.

The man who entered, though, fits Jack’s description and Sunjata nods – having gotten the file recants from the Captain himself as well as the memories replayed for Nate for the two of them to pour over even if it only insighted heartbreak and rage.

So he nods, because it’s easier that way, pulling in the information Maeve offers and compiling it and comparing it against his own. And when she sighs and regards him, his gaze lifts to meet hers – jaw set tight, steel gaze glinting and slit in the firelight, the dancing flames reflected on the hard material of his horns, but he doesn’t move as she shifts closer.

He doesn’t give her his thoughts on it, though, choosing instead to work his jaw and shake his head. “I’m glad nobody was hurt at least.”

SUNJATA