all is fair in love and war

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

She isn’t hard to pull over and Sunjata’s arm winds around her middle as she curls up against him and the Flood tries to offer her some semblance of comfort, some attempt to dry her tears. Already he can feel her breathing easier and Sunjata remains stretched out, scarred hand running up and down her sides as if it offers some amount of warmth, as if it takes away her problems even for a moment.

He remains silent for some time, though, letting the warmth of the alcohol continue to warm him thoroughly, even paired with her body heat against him. And he finds himself closing his eyes, head tilted against the back cushion of the couch, breathing easily and deep as some sort of tether for her. “Try to be patient. Things will work out.” They have to, don’t they?

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

Maeve

He cradles her close, arms wrapping securely around her as she lays against his chest, letting herself finally relax. He's gentle with her, running his hand up and down her side, simply holding her while she patches herself back together. Soon her breathing begins to match his, chest rising and falling slowly in time with his own exhales, the beat of his heart beneath her ear a balm she wasn't expecting. Whether it's because of the ties that connect them from season pasts or a mutual understanding of what it meant to feel as if you had lost a part of yourself. Whatever the reason, Maeve is thankful for it, finding her eyes growing heavy as she snuggles into his embrace, heart finally starting to slow.

It's surprising to hear him say it. They're the kind of words she would have fed him before and a part of her is thankful for them now. Maeve manages a small smile, face pressed against his chest as she draws in a deep breath, the inhale steady in comparison to all those previous. "I hope so." She murmurs before falling silent again, letting it settle over them for a time, content to simply exist with him like this for the time being.

NO ONE WANTS YOU WHEN YOU HAVE NO HEART
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

She draws silent after her agreement, and he continues his idle stroking of her side, gently as the alcohol continues to burn within him. Silence overtakes them and his breathing slows enough with the calm to almost appear as if he’s fallen asleep – he hasn’t, he’s simply trying his best to relax, to try and keep her relaxed just as well. He hopes it works.

But a thought comes to mind, and despite how he doesn’t move at all from where he sits with her, he does let his words slip from him. “How’s your training going?” He asks, inhaling a bit and readjusting himself so that his steel gaze might be able to tilt down toward her, his hair a bit longer now as it falls into his eyes and he reaches up with his free hand to push it back again.

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

Maeve

It does work. Maeve is close to falling asleep, dozing on and off in his hold, soothed by the stroking of his hand over her side along with the rise and fall of his chest. This is close to the first real rest she's gotten in what feels like ages. Aside from when Jack wore her out so completely that there was no way she couldn't sleep. The question causes her to stir and she shifts in his arms, adjusting herself so she can gaze up at him with hazy eyes, a quiet hum pushing past her lips as she meets his gaze.

"It's going well. I've started training with a bow. Ronin took me out to the swamps to shoot some of the Vampire Gourds that are sprouting up. I could do with more. Especially before I get to a point where I can't do as much." Maeve yawns, covering her mouth with the back of her hand before she's relaxing against him once more. "Remi is making me a bow." Something she's incredibly excited for. She's never had a custom weapon before.

NO ONE WANTS YOU WHEN YOU HAVE NO HEART
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

He startles her in a way – feeling her stir against him as his question is aired. But she answers as if nothing had happened and Sunjata listens from where he remains lounged on the couch with her. “A bow, huh?” He comments idly, before he’s nodding in thought. “I had a bow when I arrived. It was the closest thing Caido had to a gun which is what I used back home.” He pauses to tilt his head slightly, before he’s peering down at her.

The comment of Remi has him tensing a fraction, but he pushes past it with a deep inhale of breath. “Will it do anything specific or is it just a bow fit for your measurements?” He asks, curious despite himself.

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

Maeve

Guns? That's not something she's at all familiar with, but Maeve hums anyway, snuggling against him a little closer without much thought. "I like it. I'm still getting used to it all, but I think I'm doing pretty well with it." Given how familiar he is with the weapon he would likely have plenty of pointers he could give her. Maeve's fingers trace idle patterns across his chest, not thinking much of it as they lounge there together on her couch.

"I'm not sure. He said he had ideas, but that it was going to be a bit of a surprise." Her shoulders lift in a shrug, a yawn threatening to push past her lips, eyes still heavy as she rests in his embrace. "Should go shooting together. There are plenty more pumpkins that need culling." Maeve murmurs sleepily, nuzzling against his chest and for a moment it feels like before, when they were still spending nights tangled up in eachother. It's so achingly familiar and reassuring and Maeve knows better than to get wrapped up in it, but she needs that more than she would like to admit.

NO ONE WANTS YOU WHEN YOU HAVE NO HEART
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

She nestles into him a bit closer and he listens as she explains that she thinks she’s doing well with it. There’s a low hum that leaves him, a slight nod as her hands rise to trace idle patterns on his chest, just like she’d done back in Flowerbirth, and it has him paying a bit more attention to the things she’s saying. “Hmm.” He comments at the mention of a surprise. Part of him is glad that she has a better relationship with Remi than he does, mostly for the fact that he’d absolutely not want any sort of surprises from the Lullaby.

The idea of shooting pumpkins together, though, has a soft snort leaving him – nodding as he considers it. “They didn’t make it this far last year, I wonder what happened.” It’s an idle comment as he’s quite aware of just how she nuzzles into his chest, as her hands continue to trace patterns on his chest. “Maybe I can practice my lightning as a dragon.” He suggests, letting his gaze land on the flickering fire now.

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

Maeve

The hum rumbles through his chest, vibrating through her bones and she tries desperately not to melt into him, knowing that's not what this is anymore. Even if there is a familiarity to the embrace and the position they've found themselves in. It feels like before, but it isn't and deep down she knows this, but gods it would be good to just forget for a while. Her slender shoulders lift in a shrug, her cardigan slipping to reveal bare skin, "Either way, I'm glad he was willing to take the project." She knows his relationship with the Lullaby is tenuous at best, but Maeve has tried her best to build relationships with those who hold power, knowing that to do so is to have power herself.

Her lips twitch into a small smile at the sound of his snort, knowing if she were to look up that his own might be upturned ever so slightly, the idea that she's still able to make him laugh even a little bit is just as thrilling as it was before. "Ronin thinks there is a big mother pumpkin somewhere in the Wilds that just spits them out in droves. I'm inclined to believe him." The Madame says with a huff of a laugh, the tips of her fingers absentmindedly running over the buttons of his shirt, occasionally teasing across his skin in a way that still feels like second nature. She's not even aware that she's doing it, eyes unfocused on a spot on the wall, watching the shadows dance in the firelight. "We should go. Would be good practice."

NO ONE WANTS YOU WHEN YOU HAVE NO HEART
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

She shrugs and he can feel the fabric shift along her skin, but his gaze remains out over the living room, to the fireplace that continues to roar in the corner. He’s happy for her, that Remi is willing to help with such a thing as making the bow for her. Even still, it isn’t like Sunjata can say much – the bow that fits him perfectly in size and etched with the swirls of waves was crafted by Deimos of all people.

Of course, that was before the arson.

“I did hear something about a giant pumpkin from Melita, once.” He murmurs, tilting his head in the cushion of the couch, feeling the way her hand runs along the buttons of his shirt, as it runs along scarred and warm skin softly and deftly. And there’s a part of him that wonders how much she’s focused on it, if she is at all, and how far she’ll go whether she’s attentive to it or not. “Though, her companion is a gourd. I can’t remember if she got him before or after that whole event happened.” Idle rumbling conversation, not that he saw Melita at all when the Ark came back before it sailed off again.

He’s still not too sure why.

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

Maeve

Truthfully, she's hardly aware of the way her fingers move across his skin, tracing scars that she's mapped with her lips numerous times, following paths that are oh so familiar to her. They skate over warm skin, barely dipping beneath the collar of his shirt, straying further from their original resting place at his sternum. She shifts in his hold, adjusting until she's more comfortable, one of her legs slipping between his as her head rests against his shoulder. It's easy to nuzzle there too, breath warm against his skin as she hums out a soft acknowledgement in regards to Melita.

"Fangorn. We've met. He's much more delightful than the ones terrorizing town currently." Maeve murmurs, unaware that the Flood has yet to see Melita since she got back or once she left, not knowing the honeybee's reason for avoiding them as she's chosen to. "Maybe that's where they come from. The great pumpkin." Another huff of a laugh, the cool tip of her nose pressing against warm skin as she draws in a deep breath, the familiar smell of his skin filling her senses. Her breathing is slow and even, heart no longer beating a staccato as she lays in his arms, further tangling herself up with him without realizing.

It's like her body remembers how good he made her feel. How taken care of and secure. The heights he brought her to. Her mind does too, but her mind is far from here and everything is simply instinct as she rests against him, uncaring of the consequences that might follow.

NO ONE WANTS YOU WHEN YOU HAVE NO HEART
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

He is very much aware of the way her fingers dance along his skin, of the way they trace along his scars and tattoos, beneath the fabric of his shirt that’s bunched up in places. Her hands find his collarbone and his gaze is leaving her, debating whether or not this is a good idea – whether or not he should let her continue this pursuit. But then she’s readjusting a bit in his grip, his arm still around her as her leg slips between his, as her breath rakes warmly across his skin.

“He certainly is.” Sunjata agrees softly, pausing to run his tongue along his lower lip, listening as she continues, feeling as her nose presses against his skin. “That sounds plausible.” He tacks on, distracted – because of course he is – before his head is tilting back toward her where she rests against his chest.

He pauses for a moment, watching for a second longer. “Maeve? It’s a quiet rumble, a quiet question of sorts of whether she knows what she’s doing and if it’s intentional, a rumble of confusion given the circumstances.

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

Maeve

Is it a good idea? Likely not. Does the Madame care? No, she doesn't. Not when her heart aches like it does and he's so warm beneath her. Not when she did the same thing for him during Flowerbirth to make the time without Nate bearable. Maeve knows that it wouldn't be a real fix. Merely a distraction, but fuck if it wouldn't be a good distraction. A desperately needed one.

His words barely register, lost as she is in the feeling of being held, of feeling safe, and warm in his embrace. They're just a soft rumble in his chest, vibrating against the skin that's pressed against his throat, lips barely brushing across the skin there as they part to take a breath. It isn't until her name falls from his lips that she lifts her head, meeting his gaze, chest tight all over again as she swallows thickly.

Fingertips stop just at his collarbone, barely skating up his neck to brush through the longer hair there, tongue darting out to lick her lips. "Jata..." There is a tinge of something pained that coats his name, seaglass gaze almost glassy as they rove over his features, so familiar in this moment that she can hardly take it.

NO ONE WANTS YOU WHEN YOU HAVE NO HEART
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS

right by the entrance you broke, finally reality's taking its hold

He can feel her lips brush against his throat and Sunjata swallows a bit harder than anticipated, her name aired quietly, a whisper of sound as she lifts up her head and he can feel how the rest of her presses against him with the movement. Her fingers are at his collarbone, slipping up and up, ghostlike in their touch to his longer, dark hair, and she trails off his name in a way that has him quiet for a moment longer, debating how to even start.

His steel meets her jade, the attuned working his jaw. “We can’t.” He says softly, pulling his arms away from her so that he might be able to sit up on his elbows on the couch, not making a move of getting up yet. Instead, he’s simply propped up, her hand in his hair, his shirt ruffled and bunched in places. “You’re pregnant.” He says at first, debating of whether or not what he wants to say next is even a good idea. So he keeps it tucked behind his teeth, sucking on them as he exhales slowly.

He thinks the circumstances are slightly different in regards to what happened in Flowerbirth, because at the very least Sunjata was still married to Nate, that this was a way he typically coped and it was something that Nate knew before. For Locke? Would it be seen as a means of Maeve moving on? He wasn't here for her to work, at least not in her profession's regard.

And aside from that? It had been nothing more but a means to distract, to forget, no strings attached on his end. He doesn't know if it's the same for her.

you're not who you were, but you can't let it go
you're not where you're from, but you're always alone

SUNJATA

Maeve

She can feel his adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly, clearly not as unaffected by her as he might wish to be. It's a heady thing to realize, warmth already starting to swirl in her belly, urging her to shift and press closer. She does when she moves to sit up, hardly any space left between them, her free hand bracing against his shoulder as she draws in a breath. The other slips through the dark strands of his hair, nails barely scratching against his scalp, lips parting as his gentle protest is murmured.

"Why not? It's no different than before." And it isn't. It really isn't. She loves Locke. He has her heart no matter how she might wish otherwise. When he comes back she wants to try and fix this. She wants him. Just as Sunjata wanted Nate. "It won't hurt me or the baby." Maeve tells him, wanting to at least soothe that worry if it's one he has, unsure if he's actually aware of how it works.

The Madame shifts again and her knees find home on either side of his hips, hovering over them as her pulse picks up, rabbiting against her ribs as she holds his gaze. "I still want him, Jata. I just... I just don't want to hurt for a little bit." And she knows he understands that. She knows because it had been the very reason they ended up like that in the first place. Mave licks her lips, thumb brushing against the underside of his jaw, jade searching steel. "Please." The word is barely more than an exhale against his lips as she holds herself above him, breaths shallow as the cardigan she wears slips further down her arms, leaving her shoulders exposed to the slightly cool air of the room.

NO ONE WANTS YOU WHEN YOU HAVE NO HEART
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS