No matter the order, the game’s unfairly stacked

Hotaru

I know they'll be coming to find me soon
But I fear I'm getting used to being held by you

Ru returns to the House drained and brittle. The family dinner had been beautiful, and reuniting with Kiada had been everything she wanted, but Evie and Deimos’ engagement - for all the joy it had inspired in her - had also made her a little too introspective. Paired with the long and laborious repairs of the jail, she hadn’t lingered long before returning to King’s End, needing to escape sooner than planned.

Sunjata’s letter on the bedside table tells her she beats him there because of it. It’s weird to realize she has begun to think of this place as another home; their bed, their schedule. Still, no matter how it intimidates her, it brings her more comfort than the loneliness implied by phrases like her bed or her house. So she makes a bundled blanket nest in the bed to feel like someone lays behind her, and she inhales Sunjata’s lingering scent to keep the nightmares at bay.

Today she sits out on the lower deck, watching the snow fall heedless of the fact it falls over her, clinging in her golden hair and turning the shoulders of her coat dark with wetness. The tea in her hands has gone cold, and her bare fingers are pink even with her Academy blessing. Her mind is too far away to warm herself with magic - she doesn’t even recall how long she’s been sitting here.

But here is where she sees Sunjata, coming up the road through the light snowfall. She rises immediately, discarding her teacup on the table and trying not to plainly show she’s hurrying as she nearly runs down the steps to shrink the distance between them. Her mind reaches for him first, only to startle and recoil slightly when she skins across something new. Something that isn’t hers to touch, like a faint radio station she’ll never bring into range. Sunny? Her lips faintly mouth his name despite there being no sound behind it, pace slowing for a moment before becoming a more purposeful, worried stride.

I used to sing about being free
Oh, baby, look what you've done to me

// ships are launching from my chest
some have names but most do not //

It’s been too long, in his mind at least, since he’s seen her. Even a few days feel like it’s been ages since, despite the ways he’s tried to keep himself busy. And by busy, well, it’s been an absolute whirlwind of emotions, a new addition to their relationship, and attempts at keeping himself busy.

Now usually, he’d fly back to the House of Midnight. But tonight, it’s different, it’s his first time returning to the House with Petronella and he certainly isn’t going to try and hold a delicate little kitten in the sharp taloned claws of his dragon shift. So it’s been a longer trek home, but one full of thought, and hope that his bed might not be empty. Or, if it is, that it holds Hotaru’s faded scent enough to help him sleep. Gods know Petronella and he need it desperately.

He surveys the brothel from afar, taking in the lights through the falling snow, hands shoving further into the pockets of his jacket while Petronella snoozes in the scarf wrapped around his neck and face. He notices movement immediately from his porch, relief spreading through his shoulders as they sag to see her blonde crown of hair, her movement upon seeing him, and his pace picks up to drift closer.

What he doesn’t expect is to hear her hesitation, pushing past it to offer his own quiet relief amongst it. You’re home, he sends with every ounce of appreciation for it, for the weight that sits on his shoulders. Everything okay? He asks, drifting closer, reaching out for her to pull her in as he closes the distance. Of course, she’d be able to smell his scent, and paired with it the smell of something else, something like a stray kitten that’s spent too much time by the sea. “You’re freezing, baby.” He says aloud the second he’s got her in his arms, despite her inherent magic, she’s like ice in his arms.

At the very least, the sea panther is too exhausted and too fast asleep to let his voice and movements wake her.

the flood

// if you find one, please,
let me know what piece i've lost //

Hotaru

I know they'll be coming to find me soon
But I fear I'm getting used to being held by you

Home. It cuts through her stirring nerves as neatly as his voice alone always does, to know he feels the same. Like two blind lovers trying to feel each other’s faces they ebb and flow in tandem, shared worries and the weight of experiences not shared making them both off-kilter. I came back early, she explains away, and doesn’t linger on her own word choice because it just doesn’t matter when he’s finally back. He’s so close, but she still can’t reach him, and her pace hurries as she reaches for him the same moment he does the same.

Before she Attuned, Ru hadn’t understood how integral shifts were to a person. Now, the off-center pieces in her chest shift and click into place the second his familiar scent cuts through the dampening effect of the snow, and she melts into his arms as the worst of the weight on her shoulders slides right off. Only as he’s already exclaiming does she realize how cold she is, the heat of his arms around her a shock she didn’t expect. One that momentarily distracts her from the new, strange addition to his scent.

“L-Lost track of time,” she murmurs, only realizing her lips are numb when she goes to use them properly. It’s not a good excuse, so she calls on her magic to begin heating them both up in the small increments she can, not wanting to worry him further. Let’s go inside. It’s a good compromise, one that will get them both comfortable as quickly as possible. But as she grabs his hand, desperate to be close, she shoots him a curious look as they begin walking toward the House. I should be the one asking if everything is okay. Why didn’t you fly home? A gentler inquiry to start with, even if she wants to ask why he feels so torn apart beneath the surface of the bond. A different pain than Hotaru is used to feeling from him.

I used to sing about being free
Oh, baby, look what you've done to me

// ships are launching from my chest
some have names but most do not //

A part of him wants to chastise himself for having been gone for so long, then, if she’d come back early. Another part of him wonders how long she’s been here — but that was the entire reason he’d left the note in the first place, wasn’t it? Precisely for this? It does alleviate some of his anxieties, especially now that he can see and feel that she’s okay.

They meet and his arms wrap around her easily, pulling her into his chest where he can fully try to envelop her, exactly at the time she starts to speak and he can hear the way she stutters. His hands start to move along her arms as if trying to manually warm her up when he can feel her magic start to work. “You know how I feel about snow.” He murmurs, trying to joke away the awkward footing that he feels like they’re on, like there’s underlying things that are going unsaid.

But as always, she cuts through the mask, and his hand squeezes around hers as he follows her back up the stairs into the comfort of his room, spying the nest of blankets, intentionally not responding to her until they’re inside and he can start to take his jacket off, leaving the scarf for obvious reasons. The jacket is draped over a chair and he turns to her with the scarf still on, lips twisting into a soft smile that wars with the turmoil of his soul beneath the surface. “Because…” He starts to say, unwrapping the scarf to reveal the small, sleeping sea panther curled up on his shoulder against his neck, her scales glimmering in the oil lamps. I was helping Koa in the Oerwoud when we stumbled across a litter of sea panthers that were getting attacked by a molten tiger. There’s a new scar to accompany it, along his lower stomach where one claw had sunk into his flank.

She… Was the only survivor and she attached… He says mentally with a soft sigh, trying his best to keep everything even, to keep from letting his grief and anxiety overtake him. He should be joyous, excited, happy. And yet.

the flood

// if you find one, please,
let me know what piece i've lost //

Hotaru

I know they'll be coming to find me soon
But I fear I'm getting used to being held by you

They’ve had this back-and-forth many times on snow, but this time Ru can only tighten her numb arms around Sunjata and emit a small laugh that’s more of a huff. “And I know how you feel about beaches too. Now look where we both are.” King’s End - a region with both beaches and snowy winters. It feels symbolic, appropriately compromising. Maybe it’s exactly that sentiment, but she runs her hands up his spine and tries to smooth away the odd footing they seem to be on, content to let those hidden things be said in their own time and hoping to help him feel the same.

Patience was never a virtue of Hotaru’s in her youth, but she has come to conquer it in later years. No matter how curious she may be as they make their way up into their room, she reminds herself that now he’s back there’s no rush for either of them. No lack of time. It’s still not something she’s used to, so it’s a lesson she reinforces every chance she gets.

While he peels off layers, Hotaru puts more on. Though her fire magic is helpful, it’s newborn at best, and the cold feels as if it has set into her very bones. As she’s pulling on her robe and tying it at the waist Sunjata’s voice tugs at her, reeling her around as if magnetized. Heterochromatic eyes fall on the motion of his hands at his neck, and her breath stops on a hitched noise as understanding dawns at the same moment his voice rumbles in her head.

To you, she finishes for him, understanding deepening in unfurling waves of emotion she can’t control the way he does, so new is this realization for her. Still, she tries. Though he may find solace in her understanding, now is not the time to be overwhelming him either. Instead, she reaches for him, hands smoothing down his arms until one rises to cup his jaw, eyes awash in plainly transparent emotion. Oh, Sunny…it’s okay not to be okay about it, she says in place of ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘congratulations’, because neither could possibly encompass how it feels to have a new bond take the place of an old one. A pain she’d felt the day Atlas came into her life, filling a similar-but-different space that Alice had once occupied. And though she doesn’t say it, the gentle hold of her hands is a promise, an assurance that if he needs to fall apart, he can do so safely in her grasp.

I used to sing about being free
Oh, baby, look what you've done to me

// ships are launching from my chest
some have names but most do not //

She knows just what to say to meet in the middle with him, and his arms tighten around her a little bit tighter for that boon. “Compromise.” He rumbles gently, lifting his hand to stroke her cheek before they part to make the trek back up into the warmth of the House of Midnight – Sunjata craving the familiarity now that all the pieces are together. Now that he has the warmth and comfort of his home and her in it. Safe. It’s his utmost priority, and it soothes the dragon that lives under his skin.

It doesn’t soothe it enough to hide that awkwardness in the Attuned bond with her as he starts to remove his layers, as the scarf is removed and draped over his jacket on the back of the chair in their room, his steel gaze harboring a hawk’s eyed focus on her face as she finishes his comment, through the bond, the understanding she has clicking against each and every lock of his heart like she’s the smoothest lockpick he’s ever encountered.

He doesn’t answer, a simple exhale of agreement mixed with relief to her own understanding, even as Petronella mewls curiously at the new face, webbed paws gripping into Sunjata’s shoulder and shirt for purchase. In his side of the bond he feels discomfort, uncertainty, the lingering overwhelming sensation of guilt.

Hotaru is quick to smooth down his arms and cup his face and craving both her comfort and her understanding, he tilts his head into her hand, his steel gaze tired and wary as they meet her dual toned ones. And while the silent comment of it’s okay to not be okay with it, the only responding notion is the sudden pinch of his brows, the wrinkle forming there deeper the more he fights his emotions to keep that straight face.

He typically hides, however, when conversations get hard. But he’s mindful of it, forcing himself to try and keep his gaze on her, to face her when he responds, even if his eyes seem a bit distant. It’s made up with the fact that Petronella reaches out with one of those webbed, scaley paws that tries to crawl onto Hotaru’s own arm, wanting to trade one shoulder for another. It feels like getting cut open along a scar. He admits, though the shame in the admission is clear in the way the sensation intertwines, braiding around the thicker accented words.

the flood

// if you find one, please,
let me know what piece i've lost //

Hotaru

I know they'll be coming to find me soon
But I fear I'm getting used to being held by you

In a different situation, perhaps she might have been flattered and charmed to be seen as the lockpick to his heart, but this is a shared understanding built on the basis of ashes and pain. Understanding is only a hollow initial comfort she can offer him. His skin is warm beneath her frozen hand, and though the kitten's mewling pulls at her attention, Ru's eyes never waver from Sunjata's. Watching as each defense begins to fall before her eyes, revealing how very not okay he is - but also how badly he's trying to fight it.

This is a conversation she would not normally force, even if they are both trying to work on being more open. But, at the same time, she can tell he is simply going through the motions; tying himself together with string in the vain hope that if he pretends hard enough, it really will be okay. She can't let that happen, no matter how painful the alternative might be.

Do you want me to hold her for a moment? It's okay if you need to cry, or a moment away. Even if just mere inches, so he might feel just a little less overwhelmed, less burdened by this new life that has attached itself to him. Just know that, no matter what, Haai can't be replaced. They're not the same soul. But I'm so sorry - I'm so sorry you didn't get a choice. Her thumb sweeps over his cheekbone, heart breaking in her own eyes. When will the world stop taking away his free will? When will he truly be free of the shackles he'd been born into?

I used to sing about being free
Oh, baby, look what you've done to me

// ships are launching from my chest
some have names but most do not //

It isn’t one he really wants to have, either, but he knows deep down that he can’t get better unless he faces it. Unless he gets it off of his chest – but perhaps Koa’s words (while honest) had clicked against his mind in the grief of attaching to another companion, and he had taken them a little too close to his heart. Yes, it wasn’t fair for the sea panther kitten to have to deal with his warring emotions. Yes, it isn’t fair that Sunjata’s initial response had been fear and grief and terror at the way the creature had latched on.

But Sunjata also knows first hand that life isn’t fair. It hasn’t ever been fair for him. It never will be fair.

Perhaps he doesn’t realize how silent and statuesque he’s become when her question reaches him and he nods, clearing his throat from the sudden tightness. He doesn’t want to cry but he can feel the tightening of his throat and he knows that it’s coming. Especially as she continues, her apology a balm against the rolling waves of the ocean of his emotions. Regardless, that frozen distant version of himself leans into her touch, before he withdraws slightly to pick her up to hand her to Hotaru. The sea panther is inquisitive, mewling happily to bat at the blonde strands of hair from the Valkyrie, and Sunjata can’t continue to force himself to face it as strong as he has, and all that work about trying to force through it to not hide away is dashed down the drain the second that Hotaru holds his companion in her arms.

He turns, taking a step back, arms crossing protectively across his chest, shirt lifting where he grips it to show that still red and scabbed but mostly healed slice above his hip from the molten tiger – ignored as he lifts his lightning scarred hand to rub at his face, to close his eyes and pinch at the bridge of his nose to remind himself to breathe. The worst part is that… She doesn’t know why I’m like this. She doesn’t know why I look at her with guilt or hurt. The admission comes easier in the Attuend bond where he doesn’t have to time his breaths to keep his voice from breaking.

the flood

// if you find one, please,
let me know what piece i've lost //

Hotaru

I know they'll be coming to find me soon
But I fear I'm getting used to being held by you

She can't remove the feeling of responsibility from his chest, but gods how she wants to. It's a feeling not unlike any other parental urge; to conceal, to stiffen your lip, turn the other cheek. Whatever it takes to keep that small, tiny life from feeling the turmoil of what's beneath the surface.

The kitten weighs barely anything in her arms, and Ru uses a touch of magic to make her hair dance in a quiet breeze, keeping her entertained. If the time comes - if the worst comes - and Sunjata needs to fully break, she will consider compelling the cub to sleep; for now, she can only physically bear this burden. Even as he pulls away, revealing an injury she will surely look over later, Ru stands strong and ready to keep Sunjata's head above water as the floodgates begin to fail.

She is too young to be more than confused - she has only just realized what human emotions are. It's a cruel comfort, to use Petronella's age against her in this way, but it's the truth. It will take time for her to even understand human speech, to know Sunjata beyond the emotions she will feel from him. And one day, when she does know, she'll understand. Because her heart will know yours. Ru wants to reach out for him, but she holds the little panther in her arms and instead lets her support shine through the bond instead. Flora and Enzo didn't know why I cried so often when they were little. They didn't understand my grief in more than simple terms when they first aged. But they came to know it in time - and they never doubted how much I loved them even with the memories they brought back.

Hotaru could have used Alice and Atlas as her examples, so direct are the comparisons, but it is Petronella's age that reminds her so much of Flora and Enzo. Mind just as similar as a newborn babe's, unknowing and new. You are allowed to hurt. You won't hurt her to the depths you think by letting her feel it.

I used to sing about being free
Oh, baby, look what you've done to me

// ships are launching from my chest
some have names but most do not //

Petronella is very easily distracted by the hair, batting at it with webbed paws, claws sharp where they try to tangle into the blonde hair that moves in a makeshift wind. Sunjata, on the other hand, is thankful for the distraction even as he fights with himself on reverting back into his past ways of coping. So instead, he listens to the gentle tone of her voice – thankful for the comfort, however cruel it might be. Sunjata’s moral compass at this point is a point that’s shifted time and time again.

Yeah. He says unhelpfully, but just to prove to her that her words are sinking in. He stops pinching the bridge of his nose in favor for rubbing his scarred palm along the side of his face, threading it back through his hair as he takes a deeper breath, hand slipping back down over his face, pressing against the scar that tears through the faded out freckles on the side of his cheek. I don’t want her to feel like Haai felt. He knows that there’s no elaboration here to help her along, but it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, knowing that she doesn’t know whether he means he doesn’t want her to occupy the space or if he doesn’t want her to feel the same emotions the griffin had – the bond feeling a strange sort of lurching pause as he formulates them. There was… An experiment once, when Haai could speak to me. And she was lonely and sad and.. A hiccupped laugh breaks through the quiet of the room despite the mental conversation.

Sunjata sniffs, trying to force the feelings back down, swallowing them until his stomach feels a lurch and grows nauseous. Pissed at me for it. His other hand twitches with the memory of Haai’s toothiness, remembering her little yelping growls and barks and the sharp teeth that accompanied them when he wasn’t listening to her pulses of guidance. And I know it was because she cared. We were intwined. But... You know what it was like. He doesn't need to remind her of the searing pain of having one's soul sliced right in two. I can't go through that again.

the flood

// if you find one, please,
let me know what piece i've lost //

Hotaru

I know they'll be coming to find me soon
But I fear I'm getting used to being held by you

It's a story she has never heard, and though she lingers in her confusion as he gathers his words, she doesn't let him feel it. There is no room on her side of the bond for anything less than utter support and understanding. At least until he explains - and then there is only a quiet sorrow that lingers on the edges.

You were a different man then, Sunny. In different times. Her voice is heartbreakingly soft even to her own ears. If she could fix this, if she could fix it all, she would. If there was any power in her possession to put Sunjata into a perfect world of happiness, she would expend it immediately. You know that - you're proving it here and now. Opening up, talking, expressing the pain instead of bottling it up inside.

I know you can't suffer it again, love. But we're wiser now. We know how careful we have to be. Neither Haai nor Atlas should have accompanied their bondeds into such dangerous times, and they had paid the ultimate price in their steads. But they are different now. More cautious. Surely that must mean something? The hurt never really goes away. But if Atlas was any proof, know that you can and will feel the warmth of being bonded again. I promise. Instead of reaching for him, she focuses on her magic, because she won't be able to hold back otherwise. It's different than losing a lover or a child. It sounds blasphemous but...the healing is faster, when your very souls are combined. A cruel benefit, if one could call it that.

I used to sing about being free
Oh, baby, look what you've done to me

// ships are launching from my chest
some have names but most do not //

Was he all that different? Was he any different than what he’s doing right now? His pessimistic mind continues to point him in the spiral of no again and again to the point where it starts to warp and sound in his mind like an alarm that has a terrible familiarity to his father’s accented voice rumbling in his ears. He shuts it out, the second her lighter voice breaks through and proves it to him, by how he hasn’t shut her out, but has shut out the directness of looking at her while he speaks. And perhaps that’s enough. Perhaps it’s a baby step that’s needed, despite how he constantly chastises himself with why can’t I just do it.

At least he hasn’t slipped the shield of his dragon shift’s scales over his arms. He’s open, as much as he doesn’t realize it. And maybe it’s because her voice is a tether, one that speaks reason to his spiraling mind that had spent those nights before she’d gotten back home in a constant war. He can, however, cast a small glance her way, nodding. And in the low light of the oil lamps in the room, there’s the glimmer of tears that add to his distant look. No relics this time. It’s a terrible attempt at a joke, but its truthful nonetheless. Had he never embarked on that journey, Haai would still be here. Haai would have had to go through the grief of losing Nate. And he doesn’t know which is better.

Nate had been Haai’s favorite too. Nate had always been the more liked between the two of them, even to his own soul bonded companion. Just another thing Sunjata continues to blame himself for. Being too sharp, too much or not enough, always needing to reach a goal when there wasn’t even an option to win on the playing field. And he wonders why he strikes out time and time again.

How do I stop feeling guilty? It’s exactly why he wouldn’t open himself up to loving anyone else after Nate. The very same feeling that he’s replacing them rather than honoring them. How do I stop feeling like I'm replacing her? Like I didn't love her or appreciate her enough when she was here because I have another one? This is what gets him, this is what has his head turning sharply, shoulders curving inward, hand covering his face as he desperately and stubbornly brushes the tears away. Like if he hides the evidence he can prove he hasn't cracked, even though there's no reason for it.

Old habits are hard to kill, at least. And this one has been trained into him for the past thirty - plus - years.

the flood

// if you find one, please,
let me know what piece i've lost //

Hotaru

I know they'll be coming to find me soon
But I fear I'm getting used to being held by you

It is so rare to see him withstanding such an onslaught of emotion without his shifts present that it is plainly obvious to Hotaru how far he has come. It doesn't matter to her that he won't meet her eyes - can't, really. She waited years for him. Patience won't fail her now. No matter how long it might take him to heal, to strive to be a better person, it is time she will happily spend holding his hand through it all. Even if she can't physically reach him right now, her heart is his to feel, leading by example by baring every crevice and crack to the maelstrom of his own soul.

The only way to stop feeling guilty is to forgive yourself, is her quiet response, somber and murmured even through the bond. One hand comes up to gently stroke over Petronella's back, selfishly needing her own brief moment of comfort. Forgive yourself for not appreciating or listening to her enough. Forgive yourself for being human and unaware of the dangers you were taking her into. For a moment she sees Kiada spiraling, falling, down into the lava surrounding the suffering herald they hadn't meant to find. Take the lessons you need to learn - but forgive the rest. Give yourself the grace she would have given you. Because if nothing else, that's what companions would always do; forgive. And, as in all things, try to do right by her by doing better. Second chances were not always painless, but they were still opportunities for positive change.

I used to sing about being free
Oh, baby, look what you've done to me

// ships are launching from my chest
some have names but most do not //

Everyone around him have got to sound like a broken record at this point; given just how many times he feels like he’s heard the same sentiments. Forgive yourself. He doesn’t know how. He knows he should have done things better and has often spent nights in between the nightmares and attempts to go back to sleep to face another one pouring over the way things had happened, what he could have done differently, everything. And it isn’t just Haai. It’s everyone he’s failed over the years.

It's a very, very long list.

He continues to hold himself together the best he can, arm wrapped around himself, the other desperately wiping away the tears that have slipped down. He still won’t allow himself a full breakdown. He stubbornly doesn’t want her to witness that, over a kitten of all things. It’s ridiculous and he can already hear the ridicule in the back of his mind despite knowing in his heart of hearts that Hotaru would never do that to him.

It's a war he rages with himself. I will try. He admits, even his voice in the bond – though thicker in his accent as they are – are shaky. But it’s all he can do – is try to do better. And so far, if you don’t count his internal turmoil and guilt, he’s been doing great at it. Given the sea panther the option to try and learn about herself and who she is, letting her give into her instincts, letting her learn and make her own mistakes (none of them with potential disasters).

He exhales a shaky sound and wipes at his face again, arms falling from his chest to his sides as he swallows everything back down, no longer feeling that uncomfortable and awkward footing. It's taken the brunt of the worry and fear away enough for now that he can return to her, one hand to take Petronella back despite the mewls of protest, one hand lifting to Hotaru's cheek, slightly damp with the salty tears he'd wiped away. And he guides her chin upward to press his forehead against hers, red rimmed eyes closed when he hums a hoarse "thank you, my liefde," from how tight his throat had been.

the flood

// if you find one, please,
let me know what piece i've lost //