{se} Why is my head so loud

maybe who we were then is shattered, but who we are in the end is what matters

She and Tal had planned on a dinner together when she returned from her mission with Deimos, and despite how unsettled she is, Hotaru is determined to see it through. Mostly because she does not want to be alone, even if she is not confident that she will be able to hide how affected she is from one of her closest friends.

With the warm summer weather, the screen door is closed but the main door is open so that Tal can come right in. Not that he has ever needed such a visual representation to know he can always step right inside.

Inside, Hotaru has most of the meal complete already, having been unable to sit still with all the memories in her head and the shaking of her hands distracting her. Her long blonde hair (trimmed, finally, after their spar) in a messy topknot she would normally not be caught dead in. Hearing the screen door, she turns and offers a wan smile, trying for normality and falling short in the first moment. Pitiful. "Hey, Tal. Sorry I got started without you."

He'd brought some vegetables, fresh from the Greenhouse, and a still-hot loaf of bread from the baker his sisters preferred, and Boreal had brought a chunk of ursur tusk that she carried happily in her mouth the whole way to Hotaru's house. He had his Dagger at his waist and a reminder to fulfill the last of Frey's tasks for it, and he was almost smiling as he trotted down the street with his ingredients.

"Hey, Ru," the courier called, cheerful at the thought of spending an evening together with his best friend - friends, he mentally added at Boreal's amused warning huff - as he pushed the screen door open to let the dragon sashay in. She headed towards the hearth to settle down and gnaw on her chew toy, full from her own earlier dinner and leaving the humans to their own devices.

Tal, on the other hand, noted the Valkyrie's subdued greeting and shadowed eyes from the moment she said his name. He wasn't always the most observant person - it could be argued that he was usually on the far end of the scale - but when it came to people he cared about and was close to he was notably less dense. Seeing Hotaru less then perfectly-coifed and artfully attired might have been a subtle compliment... but in his experience it usually meant something far less fortunate.

"Hey--" he said again, smile fading as he searched that familiar face for a long moment before he bent to loosen his boots and slip out of them at the entry. Padding over with his bags of greens and bread he dropped them carelessly on the first open counter space he passed and opened his arms. "Can I get a hello hug?"

maybe who we were then is shattered, but who we are in the end is what matters

His jubilant disposition is immediately obvious to her the moment he steps through the door, and Ru tries to banish her own dark thoughts because he shines so brightly in that moment and all she wants is to bask in it with him. It does at least make it easier to smile that little bit, buoyed by his aura, though it does not last. He is far too perceptive these days. It shouldn't surprise her given he'd been her crutch in the year after the war that he can read her so well, but the way he immediately sets down his items to open his arms to her still takes her by surprise.

"Of course, how could I forget," she utters on a slightly strained laugh. There is heat behind her eyes, but the source is pride instead of pain. This tactic is one she utilizes against him plentifully; phrasing the request in such a way as to inspire independence instead of immediately calling out a noticeable change. To have it turned against her fills her with a painful sort of love.

She slips into his arms easily, familiar with the way their bodies fit together by now. His scent touches her nose and she buries her face into his chest in a moment of weakness that doesn't belong to a normal greeting hug. "You smell like bread," she murmurs, half-audible with how she's pressed into him. Any other words feel out of reach aside from - "I missed you."

Although he'd never really considered himself touch-starved - not with a sled team and a companion he could hug whenever he wanted to - there was something immensely satisfying about being able to hug a friend. He would have stolen a hug from the Valkyrie at some point in the evening regardless of how much fun they were having, but the strange tension in Ru and the mystery of her appearance ensured that it happened sooner rather than later.

And that, once he had her in his arms, he made no move to let go, folding her into an embrace that wrapped around her with warmth and support and a deep, comfortable love.

"Missed you, too," he said, shifting a hand to rest lightly in her hair, fingers curving over the unaccustomed topknot there. He bent a little to rest his cheek on the top of her head, breathing in her own scent and ignoring the clamoring questions in his head for the moment. "I brought stuff for salads, an' a loaf o' sourdough, an' a listenin' ear, if any o'that sounds good tonight," he offered quietly.

maybe who we were then is shattered, but who we are in the end is what matters

It's clear the moment he takes her into his arms that he doesn't intend to let go anytime soon, and it soothes something uncharacteristically anxious and possessive that sits in her chest, spiky and insistent. That awful little ball finds its edges clipped and rounded into something less painful as Tal's hand finds her hair, and she tilts her head further into him like her strings have been cut.

"I could eat that entire loaf right now," she murmurs, lips half-pressed against his shoulder where she rests her cheek. But she is older now, wiser. Less guarded with her emotions around those who have earned the privilege. Hotaru knows she needs to talk about it eventually, and prolonging the inevitable only hurts worse. "But...an ear sounds good. Can we sit?" Halfheartedly lifting her head to glance at the couch by the hearth, she tries to grapple with the desire for closer cuddling warring with the realization she'll have to let him go for the few seconds it will take to get there.

Here in the safety of her home it was a little easier to remember that, whatever had happened, they had time. However much she needed, there was no emergency or quest or dangerous terrain to hasten decisions or prioritize survival over self-care. He could hold her as long as she would let him and the worst that would happen would be the bread getting cold... and they could warm that up again whenever hunger overcame heartache.

"There's nothin' stoppin' us," he pointed out lightly, even as his soft tone belied his worry for the woman in his arms. Her willingness to open up to him didn't go unnoticed, and he turned his head to press an affectionate kiss to her head. "We c'n do both," he agreed to her request, straightening enough to smile down at her. "I'll grab th'bread if you lead the way?"

And he would, keeping one hand wrapped firmly in hers and snagging the loaf as they went past until they could settle onto the couch and he could curl around her again, leaning against the back and one arm and waiting for Ru to pick her chosen position. He left the bread in its bag in easy reach, tearing off a chunk of bread and tearing it in half again before offering her a piece to nibble.

Some might find it less than flattering, but Tal treated Hotaru the way he treated one of his sled team that had been injured or unwell; with quiet patience and gentle touches to reassure and comfort until the cause could be determined. And a little easy food to settle her stomach; being hungry never made any situation better.

maybe who we were then is shattered, but who we are in the end is what matters

The press of his lips against her temple helps steal away the tightness in her chest, and there is a vulnerable gratitude in her eyes as she manages a tiny smile back up at him. Brave or not, she does not relinquish his hand as he grabs the bread and she leads them to the couch. They sink into it in tandem with the familiarity of nearly two years of exactly this moment, and she tucks her legs up beneath her and lets her knees fall sideways halfway into his lap as she curls beneath his arm and rests her head on his shoulder.

Despite the comment she'd made, she would have forgotten the bread entirely if he had not put it into her hands preemptively. Something he had started doing after Enzo's death when she would only sit at the table and stare into nothingness; the only way to remind her to eat. Nibbling at the bread and enjoying the fresh, fluffy texture, Ru feels the pressure on her insides start to relent. With it comes space for words.

"Noah, Darkeye, Deimos and I went to investigate some missing merchants. We encountered lamplighters." Usually the luring sort with their songs and promises, these had not been nearly so benign. Hotaru could have resisted such a thing. "It made us all remember our worst memories and fears." She shudders, though it's far too warm in her house to warrant a chill, and her nails dig slightly into the bread as her eyes go far-away. "I thought it was getting better. I thought I was. But - they - everyone else was able to fight it, but I couldn't." A failure that had hurt as bad as those horrible visions. Noah may have only emerged from his own visions because of her own flooding the Attuned bond, but she has no way of knowing that. All she can feel is the shame and the horrible, aching loss that stings like a freshly picked scab.

She knew the way he would shift his hip as soon as he settled onto the cushion, just as he knew the way her knees would bend to pull her feet up, bringing her weight and warmth pressing into his side for a second until she shifted back just far enough to find her balance and a position of comfort against his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze before he tore the bread, giving them both something to eat.

A chance to gather thoughts, for Ru to change her mind if she needed to. It worried him, deep in his chest, to see how she passively accepted the food and nibbled it in the way she had after the War. There was a hurt in her that would never heal, but it had scabbed over and he'd thought she might be past the worst...

He stroked her shoulder with his thumb, a slow, steady motion to soothe and reassure while he waited, in no rush to fill the silence. The bread was still warm and it took the edge of his hunger until it was reduced to a few crumbs in his lap. Boreal watched them from the hearth, eyes expressive beneath her brow ridges as she caught the currents of emotion in the room, but she stayed where she was as the humans cuddled together on a couch that was too small for her to easily join them.

He listened, considering the strength of that particular group. But the lamplighters were one hazard he had managed to avoid, and he was grateful for it as she continued. Some things should never be relived, not in the waking world. But for Hotaru...

Tal didn't say anything. He just wrapped his other arm around her as well, pulling her against his chest and heedless of the bread still in her hands. He pressed his cheek against her hair, drawing in her scent in a breath that had to fight past the tightness in his throat.

He knew what it was, to feel like he didn't measure up to those around him. To fall short, and to let everyone - but especially himself - down. But for Ru...

"They may've been through fire'n hail," he murmured gruffly, "but they haven't lost what you have." A son. Children, she'd told him. The ones he'd never met, from years before. And Enzo, still so recent and sharp as naked obsidian. "It doesn't compare."

maybe who we were then is shattered, but who we are in the end is what matters

This companionship must seem so simple on the outside, but the familiarity of each motion is a reminder of how many previous days and nights they have done this dance. A string of hours that link like chains into physical proof of his loyalty and dedication to her even in her darkest moments when she could not even find the words or presence to thank him. To Ru, everything is tainted with the expectation of transaction, and it had killed her to be unable to pay him back. Now, he is as cherished to her as Deimos, and any notion of payback is meaningless. Now, there is only gratitude.

She only blinks because he pulls her in, and then she merely shuts her eyes and folds like a small paper crane into his chest, creases worn and frayed. It feels wrong to compare her grief and loss to two men who are so dear in her heart. Against anyone else she would not hesitate, but she knows what they have been through. It makes it harder to value her own losses above theirs. Hearing it from Tal makes it easier, though it makes her eyes burn as well. Dropping the bread in her hand, she grips at the front of his shirt.

"I wanted my last memory of Enzo to be him standing beside Mort," she whimpers, all pride down the drain. "Now I can't stop seeing him in the Citadel again. I can't stop hearing Flora's screams. And I can't stop hearing Ru'in -" her voice chokes itself into silence, something like a low moan of pain resonating in her throat. Tal knows her son's name, but little else. More of a scar than a scab, it is just as inflamed, if slightly more resilient.

He might not always know what to say, or how to say it well, but Hotaru had stuck with him when he'd been angry and hurt and lashing out, burning every bridge that would take a spark. That was, purely and simply, all that she had needed to do to earn his loyalty and a deep, stubborn love that had grown as comfortable as his favorite Deepfrost sweater over the past two years. He hadn't been able to get rid of her at his worst, and now she was stuck with him, come what may.

Tal had long since ceased to be amazed at how such a large soul could fit in such a tiny body as she folded against him; there was only a lump in his throat for how much pain she must feel to reveal such fragility, and an aching tenderness as he shifted to hold her a little closer, a little more comfortably for both of them so she could stay in the circle of his arms as long as she needed to.

Her voice cut straight through him, her words shards of ice that pierced his heart. He knew what she meant. Knew, not as a parent who had lost a child but as a child who had lost his parents could know. How hard it had been to stop seeing their slack faces and empty eyes when he thought of them and instead to remember the slow smiles and warmth of their hands on his shoulders. It had taken years - it still took effort, and conscious intent.

A deep breath. The fear of saying the wrong thing, and the near-paralysis that came with it. Instead he began to rub her back, a slow and gentle circle as he swallowed hard and tried to help the only way he knew how.

"What was he like? Ru'in?" he asked, voice soft and low. "As a kid?"

maybe who we were then is shattered, but who we are in the end is what matters

He is not the only one who has marveled at that; Hotaru often wonders how she can feel all these emotions so intensely, how she can carry all this grief on such small shoulders. Often, her soul feels far older than her body. Not surprising given it quite literally is given her history in Helovia prior to The Voice bringing her here, but it is difficult to grapple with mentally.

Tal holds her closer, and she buries into his skin like a child who only wants to be held after having a terrible nightmare. It's not too far from the truth; Ru knows she's awake, but it's hard to hold tight to that knowledge, constantly having to look away from shadows in the corners of her eyes that aren't really there.

The question is unexpected and leaves her silent and still. This almost feels harder to talk about than his death, but she doesn't want to forget the boy he'd been either.

"Quiet," she murmurs, starting slowly. "Awkward. He relied on his twin sister most days, and they were very close." Perhaps too close given Romina's possessive, controlling nature, but they had been like twin stars destined to sit side-by-side in the eternal sky. "He loved to create things. Machines, mostly. He was so talented with his hands." A trait he had gotten from his father, as the only artistry Hotaru has in her body is for fashion and jewelry. "He was so sensitive beneath it all; he had difficulties with speech, and often came off intimidating. But he was the most loving boy." And it makes her cry immediately to remember it, but these feel different. Less painful somehow.

She pressed as close to him as clothes and skin and bones would allow and Tal wrapped his arms more tightly around the strong, slender shoulders and petite waist of the woman who had faced unimaginable pain and somehow held on to her sanity and her heart. However broken, however wounded that heart was, still it continued to beat in her chest and he loved her for it, and for the strength it took her to stay in a world where so many of her children had been lost.

It was life that he wanted to remember tonight, though, even if those memories were tinged with the tragedy that had followed. He was no Mort, to bring back the dead in truth, but for a short time they could live again in the memories of the ones who had loved them, and he listened as Hotaru painted the portrait of her son with a brush of words that was watered with her tears.

"I think I would've liked 'im," he murmured against hair of palest gold, strands catching in lips roughened by wind and Halo's chill. "How did he feel about dogs? Did he like t'travel?"

maybe who we were then is shattered, but who we are in the end is what matters

In this small room, in a house she'd moved into to escape just such memories, they hold a little celebration of life between their two interconnected ribcages and hold vigil at their modest pulpit, and it's the most sacred thing she has experienced since kneeling in Mort's presence.

"Probably," she laughs quietly into his throat. "Though you'd likely agonize about hurting his feelings the way you do with anyone who seems too nice." And Ru'in with his soft words and tough hands would have more than fit the bill. "He was always very careful around animals, never had any pets or companions of his own. But his best friend had one - I think he enjoyed that." Kiada remains nameless, because they had all been different people then, and she doesn't want to paint the girl in colors that don't fit her any longer. "Traveling though...not so much. He would have loved Halo, though his sister despised the cold." And as such he had gone wherever her whims bid them, but like Hotaru he had found peace and solace in the cold and ice.

Tal was neither saint nor priest nor poet, but there were times when he found the right words in spite of himself. What had happened to Hotaru in the Feverlands was a violation of her heart and memories that he couldn't begin to imagine, but he didn't need to in order to offer her what comfort and solace a warm, living body and loving heart could provide. He knew already in a distracted, distant part of his mind, that it would be many days and nights of rebuilding the intangible memorials to her lost ones after the Lamplighter had shattered the carefully-constructed tombstones in her soul. He would, he hoped, be there when she needed him, but for now all they could do was take things one day - one hour, one minute - at a time.

Lips quirked against her hair, the courier not even trying to protest his gruff concerns over such bright souls as Sohalia and Jude. Instead he gave a little nod of acknowledgment and simply listened, building a picture in his mind of the shy, sensitive young man she described. A creator, and an artist, and a heart that was, perhaps, too gentle at times.

"One of ours," he said with a quiet, prideful satisfaction at the discovery that Ru'in would have belonged to Halo just as Hotaru did. "In every way that counts." He shifted a little beneath her, just enough so that he could bend his arm more easily and stroke her fair hair in a slow, easy rhythm. "He an' Enzo sound like night'n day. Were there any things they had in common growin' up?" Traits inherited from their formidable mother, so brave and clever and lovingly wicked as she was... or simply mannerisms passed through the Kaito branch of their shared heritage.