you can run but only so far

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

She doesn't have it in herself to fight anymore and neither does he. That much is clear. She feels bad that it even escalated this far, knowing she's only caused more pain to his throat and his already frayed nerves, guilt settling heavily in the pit of her stomach. Whether or not it was done out of concern initially doesn't matter. Not when it's spiraled so out of control. Maeve takes a breath, letting it out slowly as she reaches up to wipe the tears from her cheeks, feeling irritation bubble up anew as more slip from her eyes.

"I know you do, Jata. I know." Maeve murmurs, trying so hard to soothe him now, to reassure him that she does understand even if she's done a poor job at showing it. The Madame doesn't even realize her feet are carrying her around the fire as he starts to crumple, wings wrapping around himself as if to shield him from the world that's so desperate to tear him apart, making her heart ache. She stops a couple of feet away, not daring to reach out and touch him, simply standing there as her heart beats a staccato against her ribs. "I never said I was good at making choices." Maeve huffs a half hearted laugh, shaking her head as she looks up at him, bottom lip caught between her lip.

If she was wrong for siding with him then so was everyone else. Nate, Aurelia, Locke, Ronin... So many people who were apparently shit decision makers. Maeve doesn't mention as much, though. He's had enough of her pushing and she's tired of fighting him on it. They'd likely do the same thing, but telling him that won't change his feelings on that matter. Not when he's so deep into this spiral. Not when he's so tired and angry. So fucking broken.

Maeve sighs softly, finally taking the last step forward to close the distance between them, placing her hand lightly against his back. "No, he wasn't. He was a cruel, heartless man incapable of anything more. He wasn't right about that, Jata." It's all but a whisper, voice breaking for him with her own emotion as she stands beside him, trying so hard to keep him from losing himself to this. "That doesn't mean you are him. Gaining an understanding for his actions or thoughts isn't the same thing."

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.

He’s so tired of having to defend himself, of feeling the need to in order to not be walked over by those he was supposed to be in charge of. Perhaps this whole governing ordeal has hit him far more sensitively, far deeper than anything he had ever anticipated. Everyone seems to get under his skin, everything seems to continue happening, and once when a door closes?

It feels like ten more open in its place.

And he’s tired.

She gives a half laugh to his comment of choosing wrong – her admission that she’s never said she was good at making choices only have him fracturing more internally, silent as he wraps his wings around himself, as he closes himself off, as he swallows the blood that continues to stain his tongue.

She steps forward and he watches her not unlike a wild animal, that if she were to get to close he’d bite, and he knows just how volatile he is but he simply can’t stop. So he closes himself off more – for her protection and everyone else’s at this point. It’s easier that way.

He can self destruct as he’s prone to do.

It’s easier that way.

Beneath the wings, one clawed hand grips his arm with a tight iron fist, digging into his skin so that he might feel something else other than the internal rampage that wars on in his head, and the Flood tries so desperately hard to regulate his breathing.

“He was right about me, Maeve.”

SUNJATA

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

His wings wrap around his body not unlike a bat would do, hiding him away from the flames and the balmy ocean breeze, trying desperately to hold himself together. Maeve doesn't miss the way he tracks her movements, how he holds himself so tightly, seconds from lashing out. She's not deterred, coming to a stop in front of him, expression soft as she meets his gaze. The fire backlights her, darkening her features, but they still manage to maintain the gentleness that's settled on her face. "No, Jata, he wasn't. He wasn't right about you and there is no way he could ever be right because he didn't know you." Maeve murmurs gently, finally reaching forward to barely touch his arm, fingers feather light but reassuring all the same.

"But there are people here who do know you and those people have chosen to side with you. No matter the consequences. No matter what that might bring because you're worth it. You give so much of yourself and you have to let people give back. Even if you don't want to." Another small step forward, just so he doesn't have to strain to speak above the waves or the fire, wanting to keep him from straining more than he already has tonight. The guilt of having put him through hell weighs heavy on her, but there is nothing to be done for it now except try to make it a touch easier.

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.

She can tell him that his father wasn’t right when it came to him – how much his father didn’t know him, and it’s something that he’s too vulnerable right now to understand. His father didn’t know him because his father resented him. Until he could prove himself to be a killing machine, of course. And even that had felt as if it had been on a technicality.

It had been, technically. Someone brought a gun to the Trial which had spurred it into Sunjata’s favor when he’d gone into self preservation. It’s the only reason he’d won at all.

He withdraws further as she reaches out to touch his arm, her fingers light even as his dig into his arms a bit harder – the feel of blood beneath it only retracting the claws a bit. His eyes still remain on her, narrowed and uncomfortable. Her words are met with the grinding of his teeth, the restraint that’s palpable in the way his muscles twitch.

“They haven’t sided with me, Maeve. They’ve sided with the idea of me.” And when it gets to be too much as it was prone to do, then they left, then they chose the better side.

He wishes more people did it sooner than they did – to keep him from getting attached. It’s so much easier to be like his father and not give a fuck about anyone else. It’s so much easier to not have to worry about how the things he says are received, to not have to worry about it getting used against him at some point.

His wings tighten around him a bit more and he takes a sharp, shuddering breath. “I have to go.” He tells her, the only warning she gets before he’s stepping back from her, unfolding his wings so that he might gain some distance between them so he can shift into his dragon shift and take to the skies to head home.

- FIN <333

SUNJATA