Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The room is made of white smooth walls. On one side is a cot barely off the floor and very clearly used, the middle bowed from the weight of a body. The only thing that can be heard are the sounds of scratching. It’s rhythmic, chaotic and almost feral. 

In the middle of the room sits a girl freshly eighteen dressed in a torn and tattered black long sleeve shirt, it’s fabric slipping off her ever dwindling frame. She had her pants rolled up to the bottoms of her knees, the bottoms fraying and one of the knees was torn open. 

She worked her fingers feverishly holding the stub of a piece of charcoal completely focused on finishing her mural. She’s been working on it since she was allotted to have the medium without eyes on her. It’s a continuous scene of Exandria. Trees leading to rivers leading to sunny skies pointedly never drifting to night. Never any stars. No moons. Just recreations of pictures from the books her parents let her comb through as a girl. 

When she finished she let out a long stifled breath. The air is always so… crisp. Not sharp or anywhere near fresh. Crisp like breathing cold air after running on a treadmill in the gym. It’s musty and stale and terribly crisp. 

She clapped her hands letting the darkened dust cloud and float in the sterile recycled air sprinkling lightly on the ground. Slowly she stood fixing her pants and spun taking in her work. There were some smudges, intentional scuff marks made by shitty Pale Guard and or the even shitty Chancellor and her shitty husband. 

Despite their best efforts to piss her off or break her down she continued working with the ruined parts of her art. Grass turned to rocks turned to puddles of water, whatever fit best, whatever could be fixed when it was inevitably ruined again. 

Not that it mattered anymore. The next time the doors opened with a decompressed whoosh she’d be dead. Killed for crimes she hadn’t committed, for secrets they didn’t want spreading around like wild fire. Secrets her parents had told to her, her doctor mother and historian father. They’d been on edge, the entire space station was walking on a line thin as a razor.

It’d taken weeks of her nagging and bothering them while they poured over notes and texts books and plans she wasn’t allowed to understand. The moment her mother and father sat her down and quietly spoke under the noise of a small radio she wished she’d stayed ignorant. Blamed her parents for gifting, cursing, her with intrigue and the need for knowledge. 

“Whitestone is dying.” Her mother breathed it out low and with a look of utter defeat on her face. “It can’t support us all, we have to shut some of it down…” She trailed looking to her father. He pushed back his long dark hair exasperated.

“People are going to die. A lot of them. And we…” He stopped talking. She watched the silent way the two of them talked. Looks and facial changes. “We have to…” 

Her eyes went wide. “You’re choosing who lives and dies?” She leaned away from her parents horrified. 

“We’re trying to find away to save as many as possible, but.” Her mother was quick to explain, always a reason ready on her tongue. “The station is failing. They are too many people and not enough power to keep everyone alive.” Her voice was far too calm for what she was saying. 

It made her sick to see the resolve in her eyes. In his eyes as well. That resolve used to make her so proud. So very proud of her talented life saving parents. But not then. Not in that moment. 

“The list of names I saw on your desk…” Her eyes went from parent to parent, their matching brown eyes steady. “Was that-”

“Yes.” Her father put a hand on her shoulder. She tore herself away standing to put distance between them. 

“My friends are on that list. Ashton is on that list!” Her voice raised and her parents hushed her harshly. It made an anger so furious boil up from her stomach she couldn’t stop herself. “What gives you the right to decide who should live and who should die? What makes you so fucking qualified?” Her mother rushed to her looking nervously at their locked room door. 

“Lower you voice-”

“Why should I? Are you going to add my name to list if I don’t?” The air went thin. Her mother jolted away form her like she’d touched fire. She may has well have with how angry she was. It felt like her entire body was made of flames, her words smoke choking the air dangerously. 

Then her father stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face. She was looking at the opposite wall, her cheek burning. When her eyes met his he was holding his wife cooing soft words into her ear. With tears streaming down her face she ran off to her room. It was the last time she’d ever spoken to them before they were taken away and disposed of. 

Shaking herself out of the memory she remembered what had brought it on in the first place. She’s thought about this day for years, two to be exact. She’d always felt at odds with the whole ‘can’t kill you til you turn eighteen’ rule. There were days she was glad to be alive and breathing and days she’d wished it was over already, those thoughts only getting more frequent the more she woke to charcoal scuffed white walls.

At first it scared her to die. The knowledge of how painful suffocation will be. The terrible freezing cold of space, would it turn her to solid ice before her heart would stop beating? Would she feel herself turning less and less human until there was nothing left? 

There was no one alive to answer those questions. Their bodies either floated through the vast expanse of the universe or have been eaten up by atmospheres and comets. Maybe some had been absorbed by a black hole turned to spaghetti and broken down to nothing. 

She stopped those thoughts not ready to spiral out just yet, that could always wait until later. Even if later never truly came. She wondered what the last few conscious thoughts of her parents had been. Did they regret? Did they love? Were they truly at as much peace as their faces had shared? Did they know she was sorry and still loved them, that she wished she’d never shouted at them in the first place?

Her heart ached. Her face scrunched trying to shake away the dull horrible images trapped on the backs of her eyes lids. Art. Just look at the art. Her eyes trailed from one line after the other, death at the edges of her mind never fully forgotten.

Time ticked by slowly? Quickly? There wasn’t really a way to keep track. She had given up on letting her mind wonder into her own depiction of forests and streams choosing instead to try and sleep away whatever time she had left. She didn’t bother to remove her worn boots, might as well make the walk to her death timely.

—

She woke with a start nearly knocking her head into the muzzle of a submachine gun. The man that had been shaking her violently lifted the butt of the gun over his shoulder feigning an attack. He chuckled as she flinched and raised a hand to block her face. 

“Get up.” He was chewing some horrid smelling tobacco, its putrid scent wafting into her unsuspecting nostrils. 

“Time already?” Stretching she got to her feet instantly flanked by two other people who were also armed to the teeth. Why they had so many people on her she’d never know. What was she going to do? Turn into a ravenous monster and suck their souls from their bodies? Preposterous. 

Their walk was silent. They lead the way towards what was now known as the “Final Send Off” bay. Every step had her heart racing faster and faster, her fingers playing with each other or tugging lightly at her long ebony hair. It was really, finally time. No more of the guards teasing her. No more of the Chancellor forcing herself into her cell and threatening to her kill her right there. She was actually going to die. 

She thought it would be peace over taking her but… She was terrified. She was only eighteen, today she turned eighteen. She barely lived. There was so much she wanted to do. So much she didn’t and would never know. 

Her palms were sweating. Her entire body was shaking seeing the hall come into view. It’s heavy metal doors were closed, locked off by a pin very few had access to. Part of her mind was screaming for her to run, to beg and plead and do anything to survive. 

She knew better. Knew it would do nothing, had learned that very quickly after the Chancellor took a special liking to her. A sickening part of her hoped that vile attention would keep her alive. Not that she would ever say that out loud or let it fully commit in her mind. 

Better to be dead and away form her, she’d say to herself. Better to stop breathing that share an air supply with poison. Yet she found herself almost calling her name. Almost wishing she were here to take her away, even if it lead to horrible doings that would haunt her forever. 

She wasn’t ready to die. 

Her step faltered coming up to the door. It was set into the wall of the long metallic hall. She was prepared to stop and wait for the Pale Guard to open her tomb without a second thought. They’d done this so many times they were numb to it. How many of their friends have sent off? How many of their family? How could the guard work this terrible job? Some of them she understood, Vedmeyer, Anders, Ripley. All of them were trained by The Chancellor. The majority though… They were just normal people.

Those same normal people shoved her snickering as she tripped. It felt like her heart was about to explode out of her chest. The door was in arms length and… and then they kept walking. Muzzles of guns shoved into her back pushing her along when her steps slowed, stopped for just a second. Shock had her completely limp. Had she been spared? Had she told the Guard to let her go? Surely not. The Chancellor was ruthless. She never let anyone go, no matter how small the crime. 

And yet they kept walking. There was no one in sight as they made their way through the large deteriorating space station. All the civilians must be locked up safely in their rooms. It was only during times like that the halls were empty. But, why? Her eyes darted round searching the half covered faces of the armored guard around her. They were statues, faces carefully giving nothing away. 

“Where are we going today?” She chanced coming back into her body, the initial shock fading away. 

“You’re final destination.” The man leading her sneered looking over his shoulder. 

“And that’s not the Send Off?” Her hands busied themselves with each other nervously. 

“Does it fuckin’ look like it?” A more feminine voice spoke from behind and to the side of her. Her voice was accented thicker than most of the people on Whitestone, leaning hard to what would’ve been called Scottish. She didn’t respond instead following along obediently.

It wasn’t for what felt like hours, only minutes passing in reality, that noise began to fill her ears. Rowdy, chaotic, prepubescent voices shouting. Low, rumbling authoritative voices screaming back. Screaming at everyone to cooperate or face the deadly consequences.

Her eyes darted to the man in front of her. To the two behind her. They said nothing. Instead they stopped just shy of a closed door at the end of the launching bay. 

Her stomach dropped seeing her standing there. Seeing her dressed to the nines in a dark cocktail dress and dripping in many glinting diamonds. 

She was shaking again frozen in pace watching her cross the distance between them, the clacking and clicking of her heels bouncing off the metal walls like tolls of a death bell. 

“Ah, there you are my dear.” The chancellor held her jaw in the palm of her hand like she was holding that of her husband. She was gentle letting her thumb idly stroke the apple of her cheek. 

“Hello,” She choked swallowing air. “Chancellor.” She tried to force a smile, it was weak and she knew it. Her body was screaming danger! Danger! Run! She couldn’t. She shouldn’t she. She didn’t want to. The hand holding her felt good. It was terrible and she was terrible but… She still craved her in a way she hated. She loved knowing that she was her favorite.

“Oh, don’t be scared now. You’re not going to die today, child.” The Chancellor smiled softly. She rested her free hand on a shaking shoulder holding her prey steady. “You’re going to be useful for me.” Her hand slid down the length of a sleeved arm carefully exposing a thin wrist. 

“Aren’t I always?” She tried light banter not taking her dark eyes off of her own wrist. When she received a light hearted chuckle she felt a horrible sense of pride in her chest. 

“Yes, I suppose you are. When you listen to me, you’d get hurt a lot less if you were better at it.” Sharp piercing eyes threw her a nasty look. Sharp nails bit into the skin of her cheek. Ah, there she is. The real Chancellor. Ruthless and careful to protect her reputation. 

“Of course, Chancellor Briarwood.” She smiled carefully. For as long as they’ve doing this little routine this is the longest their small talk has lasted. Her attention lapsed for less than a few seconds. It’s all that Mrs. Briarwood need to lock a thick metal bracelet around her wrist. 

“Ah!” She jerked her hand away feeling thin sharp rods puncture her skin. The metal was sleek, shiny, and heavy. There was nothing on the outside that gave away it’s purpose. No engraved words, no exposed wires or screens. Just a hunk of metal sitting on, and in, her skin. 

“Consider this my last parting… Gift.” Chancellor Briarwood now held her face in both in hands. She looked at her almost reminiscent of how her mother would on the first day of school. Only Mrs. Briarwoods eyes were harder. Darker, and loveless. Her hands slipped away as she stepped around a shocked and frozen body. “Stay alive, Laudna.” Her words made a shiver run down Laudna’s back. 

Gods below. She hated that spark of joy now sitting on her heart. She hated how the weight of metal felt like a hand holding her tightly. Too tightly. There was blood drying around the tiny rods in her flesh and yet. Fuck. 

Gloved hands grabbed her roughly. She let them drag her into the loading bay. With the opening of heavy metal doors came a wave of noise. Laudna stood up straighter seeing dozens of kids ranging from about twelve to her own age all being ushered onto a large drop ship. 

Guards dressed in dark grey trimmed in bright yellow bellowed orders shoving the more disorderly where they were supposed to be. She watched with rapt attention noticing in an instant the silver bracelets being locked onto everyones wrist. 

She momentarily felt jealous then let it slide off of her holding her emotions close. She could feel Delilah, Mrs. Briarwood’s, overwhelming presence behind her. 

“Hey! You there!” A generic voice shouted at her. “Get fucking moving.” The average looking guard grabbed her upper arm dragging her towards the enormous drop ship. It looked passable at best. It’s outer metals were pocked and strewn together. It was wider than it was taller. It was only about twelve to fifteen feet top to bottom of its rounded shape. Just tall enough for the older teen boys to duck into. 

As she got closer she saw kids strapped into seats attached to the outer walls, all the kids facing the middle of the ship. Not all kids were sat though, some were put up a ladder in the center of the circular deck. She could hear more guards barking orders from within, a constant stream of people in uniform going in and out looking more and more frustrated. Eventually though the last person exited. They made eye contact with the one still dragging her and rolled their eyes. 

“Just fucking get in there and strap in.” Bored the guard pointed past her keeping their gun trained on her as she walked on her own. 

She had so many questions. Where are they going? What’s the hunks of metal for? Is this some sort of mass grave to kill all the criminals on board? Was this some last ditch effort to keep Whitestone floating? 

She had no answers. Probably wouldn’t ever get answers. All she knew was that she was afraid. She was excited. Delilah said she wasn’t going to die today. She smiled to herself. She wasn’t going to die. 

Just as she approached the large trapezoid shaped hole, it’s spilt door laid out on the ground like a draw bridge and raised in the air like an overhang, Delilah screamed. The reactionary second, that’s what she knew it as. The one second where the brain processed danger the moment danger registered. She’d never seen such a perfect example of it. Every single person in the room froze. The noise stopped. 

Slowly time began to move in its regular fashion as her mind caught up with her. Standing with his back to her was a muscular person in a guard uniform holding a pistol to Delilah’s head. 

“I’ll fucking kill her I swear to the fucking Gods!” A familiar booming voice commanded the room. Dozens of guns pointed at this false guard, shouts mumbling to gibberish drowning each other out. 

“Don’t shoot!” Delilah shrieked over and over. “Lower your fucking weapons!” She actually sounded scared. Laudna stayed where she was letting the armed person get closer to her.

“Ashton?” She lightly touched their shoulder as they stepped backwards standing in the open door way of the ship. 

“Don’t fucking-” They stopped. “Laudna? Holy shit. I thought-”

“Now!” Delilah shouted. 

A shot went off. Laudna watched blood fly from Delilah’s chest. Her eyes opened wide in… Joy? Horror? She was feeling so much she didn’t what to do. Her hands dropped to her side watching the woman who’s tormented her for the last two years land with a thud kicked down the sloping door by Ashton’s stolen boot. 

She just stared at her limp body. She watched the blood pour from her chest, lost. She hadn’t registered Ashton pulling her into the ship. Hadn’t realized the doors were closing until she couldn’t see the Chancellors body. 

“Get fucking ready.” Ashton gently, but firmly moved her to sit in an empty seat. “Everyone fucking get ready!” They screamed and the ship began to shake.

Chapter Text

Laudna had never been this scared in her life. She fumbled with the straps of her seat desperately trying to lock the straps into place. The entire rig was rumbling, the buckles skipping over their designated locks. 

“Fuck!” She swore barely getting herself secured. There was crying all around her. Some were more prone to being comforting. Others were swearing and yelling at the younger kids to shut up and deal with it. 

Her own sense of fight or flight was to quietly and internally panic. She gripped the body straps of her seat hyperventilating. Every time she opened her eyes she felt like she was going to throw up, her vision shaking up and down with the violence of the ship she was now trapped in. 

She scoffed. From one prison cell to another huh? At least here she wasn’t alone. Ashton was sat in a seat not to far from her with their eyes closed. His dark coarse hair faded down the sides, the top longer and styled into a shorter mohawk down the center of his head. Sweat was glistening off their brown skin marked with visible scars on the left side of their temple and body that hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him. 

A lot can happen in two years. This she knew intimately. Her own scars burned in response to thinking about them. Her hands gripped the straps of her seat until they began to shake. Her stomach swirled as her thoughts connected one after the other leading where she didn’t need them to. 

Was she dead? Was Delilah in surgery? Ripley would be the one to operate, probably. Delilah never really trusted her. But then who? There wasn’t anyone better, not anymore, not since her mother was… If she is dead does that make Sylas the Chancellor? If he is then does that mean whatever weird sort of immunity Delilah had given her was gone.

“What do you mean?” He screamed in his wife’s face. She’d barley managed to open her eyes past blinding horrible pain wracking her entire body. Standing between her and the man wearing bloodied brass knuckles was the Chancellor herself. “The things she knows. If she talks-”

“She won’t. Will she know?” A delicate hand brushed away dark hair from Laudna’s vision. It was the first time she’d seen that sadistically small careful half grin. “Will she?” Mrs. Briarwood pushed out firm and dangerous grabbing a fist full of hair and pulled hard.

“N-no. She won’t.” Laudna wheezed past bruised ribs looking with blurry vision into dark villainess eyes. She strained to hold herself half up on the once pristine white floor, it’s integrity ruined by her own blood. “I swear.” She added into a thick tense silence breathlessly choking on horrible recycled air.

“See?” Delilah threw her back to the floor. Her half scream of agony went ignored. “I don’t ask for much my love, let me make her useful to us.” She purred laying a hand on her husband’s chest. 

“She’s a loose thread my dear, if someone starts pulling-” Sylas, tall, handsome, brutal Sylas Briarwood was putty in his wife’s hands. All it took to silence him was a look. Just one look and he relented storming out of the room in a flourish. 

The way she had said it, the word useful. Like it was a promise. A promise that would be kept no matter what it took. She hated thinking about it. Hated the way her chest was hurting. If she is dead then, was everything she had gone through for nothing? 

“Hey.” A small yet grizzled hand rested over her own. She jumped breathing heavier than she already had been. Her eyes snapped open to see a very crotchety looking old man looking at her softly. He was dressed in far nicer clothes than anyone else she saw. A thick grey shirt and well worn jeans. His beard seemed to slink and connect to his remaining white hair, the top bald as a baby’s bottom. Two scars sunk deep from it’s middle down to his forehead. It made him look far more intimidating than his dangling legs had. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m fuckin’ terrified. Seeing the real Exandria? Pshh. Whatevs. Flying in this death machine? Terrifying.” He spoke kindly, a gentle glint in his lively blue eyes. 

“What?” Laudna stared at this random old man in a sea of children dumbfounded, her spiral of anxieties and pitted fears completely derailed. “We’re going where?” Her head was spinning in so many different directions. Thee Exandria? She was going to touch down on thee very same Exandria past generations had only dreamed of? 

“Exandria? Were you listening at all? Youths these days, don’t listen for shit!” The old man grumpily crossed his arms glaring up at her. His eyes sparkled with life, with mischief. He might be old but his soul certainly wasn’t.

“I wasn’t aware.” She off handedly responded too lost in her own mind to give him her full attention. How had this old guy even gotten on here? Everyone else had been the criminal children locked away until their eighteenth, and last, birthdays. If this guy had done something worthy of being locked up then he would’ve been killed in an instant. “How are you here? You’re so old-” The old man scoffed looking terribly offended. “I didn’t- I mean you are so- I’m sorry.” She put her foot in her mouth and stopped talking. 

“Nah, You’re right. I’m so fuckin’ old it feels like a one in one hundred chance every time I go to sleep.” He chuckled easing away Laudna’s tensions. “Let’s just say I’m the best damn spy on Whitestone. I can sneak around anyone. Even that fucking bitch Briarwood.” He gloated very loudly garnering the attention of those close enough to hear over the craft’s shuddering. “When I heard of this little, expedition~” His features went coy. He still held onto Laudna’s hand. She could feel it shaking in hers. “I knew I couldn’t miss the chance to feel the sweet sexy grain of real wood~” He made a face close to climax and Laudna grimaced. 

“The wood?” She needed clarification. Wood? This old guy risked everything for wood?  

“Fuck yeah. You think that cheap shit on Whitestone passes for the real deal? Please! I haven’t felt genuine wood since I was young.” It looked like he was about to cry. Tears glossing his eyes, bottom lip quivering. Quite the dramatic showman, this guy. Despite the theatrics Laudna smiled gently squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure past book pages.” She tried to think if she’s felt one hundred percent genuine wood before. All the natural, non recyclable, recourses had been used up far before her time. Items like that had been so few and far between they were worth more than gold in the market ward.

“I still have the chisels my dad gave me for one of my many many birthdays.” He pulled up his shirt to reveal just the bottom of his stomach. Lined in the pockets of his pants were four chisels, two on each side. Only the ancient looking handles stuck out of the tops before being hidden away once again. 

“I’d love to see your work.” She meant it. She’d love to watch him as he worked. Crafting has always been something she’s partial to. Whether it was drawing or sewing or fixing up old broken things. 

“I bet you would, I’m the best in the biz! Head of C-Pop industries.” His face rose very proudly like she recognize the name immediately. She’d never heard of C-Pop industries. She’d never heard of it in passing, in the market ward, anywhere. 

“Right… Oh! I’m Laudna by the way.” She chuckled a bit trying to delicately turn the subject away, she didn’t have it in her to break his heart. It worried her it’d kill him out right.

“Chetney Pock’o Pea. The pleasure is all mine.” He shook his hand still holding onto her own steadily. She shook his back feeling the corners of her mouth continue to rise the longer they talked. “Not so scared anymore?” He ginned up to her cheekily. “We don’t have anything to be afraid until we hit the atmosphere anyways, just breath Laudna.” Chetney held his own body straps with white knuckles and a shaking fist. 

Laudna nodded to him looking at their joined hands. “If you don’t mind? I’m still scared.” It wasn’t untrue and Chetney seemed glad to hold her hand as they hurtled though space towards a world no one has set foot on in a century and a half.

—

The moment they hit atmosphere they knew. The spaceship shuttered. It’s pocked together metals groaned and grunted and creaked. It sounded like there were layers ripping off. The temperature inside rose and rose the longer they stayed moving. 

People were screaming. People were crying. Laudna found herself in between. She gripped Chetney’s hand and he squeezed back letting out a string of profanities so vulgar a sailor would’ve blushed. 

She cringed against the pounding noise against her ear drums. It was like the ship was alive and screaming in agony. It screamed of danger and warning and utter pain. It’s wails competed with terror, horror, kids who were afraid to die. Kids who could nothing but scream.

In an instant everything became nothing. The ship impacted with a deafening boom. Launda was held in place by the straps of her seat losing grip on Chetney’’s hand. High pitched ringing replaced the overly loud shuddering of hurtling metal. Groans, struggling arms failing to unbuckle bodies letting them roam free. The interior lights flickered. Wires sparked and everything went black. 

Laudna stumbled to feet feeling around blindly. The ringing was still all could she hear, maybe Chetney was saying something. Maybe people were talking trying to stay calm. She ignored it all feeling the heat of metal walls sting her flesh as she felt around for something, anything to open the door before they all suffocated to death. 

She felt around for a button, a recess or switch. She doesn’t even know what she’s looking for. Just, anything to get them out of this hell ship. Her fingers slipped over something that had a different texture. Ridged and concentric and raised off the rest of the wall she was essentially groping at this point. 

She pressed it, it’s shape circular and about the size of the center of her palm. It resisted. She pushed harder. It didn’t moved. She began to desperately slam her fist into the raised button again and again until finally it gave. The doors made a long mechanical groan. They split in the middle. The bottom fell open with a hard resounding thud, it’s mechanisms messed up from the crash. The top jutted and sputtered then gave up it’s fight whooshing out an intense whine of air.

There were brief cheers. Silence fell on everyone blinking against intense sunlight. It’s the brightest thing all of them had ever witnessed. It lit everything it touched in a warm golden glow, it’s heat seeping into the open door and warmed the skin of anyone brave to step forward. It was gentle, caressing, soft. 

Slowly bodies began to build up behind her. Hands reached past her body rushing back to shadows before reaching out once again letting the sun spread over their limbs. Everyone was far too wary to leave what safety the ship provided. Laudna herself stayed with the worn out tips of her boots on the line of their exit. 

On the other side bathed in life were trees. Trees so high she couldn’t see the tops of them without leaving the ship. It looked like there was a general clearing made form their impact.That was probably a good thing, less work to make shelters and farming space. 

Ground, actual ground, laid under a blanket of green foliage. Large bushes stretching many feet in every direction danced between trees making it easy for smaller wild life to hide and get around. The longer she looked on with wide awe struck the faster her heart raced. Her head was catching up with the information it was receiving. She was actually here. She made it and she was looking at what her parents had dreamed their entire lives. 

“Who should go first?” A younger voice asked somewhere in the mix of bodies. An instant murmuring of indecision and pointing followed. It grew in volume and yet all Laudna could hear was as a sudden chirping of birds, real life fucking birds. Their song was sweet, familiar… Red-winged blackbirds.

Idly her feet carried her half a step forward, her boots half way over the edge of the draw bridge door. She strained to see the tops of the trees. She listened to the forest hearing a lot less than she would’ve. 

‘When danger is near the wilderness responds with silence.’ She remembered Anders’ teachings from when she was younger. The rest of the class bored out of their minds, but not her. Never her. She loved learning, still does. 

She wanted to know what the deep browns of bark felt like, the nearest trees a little singed. She wants to hear the dirt beneath her steps crunch under her feeble weight. What around here is edible, what sort of animals would she see? Gods below she wants to absorb everything in a single breath. 

Oh. 

That’s right, she should breathe. Her lungs expanded wider and wider taking in air until they hurt. She looked up not seeing the top of a shotty machine but instead the blue of the ever expanding sky though a large green canopy, an natural whole made from their landing. 

She let out all the air she’d taken in laughing. It started out small. A disbelieved chuckle. Then she was laughing. Laughing with her full chest and aching, seldom used smile muscles. 

The air here wasn’t crisp. It was fresh. It was robust, filled with so many different natural earthy smells. There were so many idle sounds she’d only ever heard from old recordings it made her head spin. 

She turned around looking at all the faces looking at her. Ashton had pushed his way to the front of the crowd with a hand on the upper unopened door leaning out towards her. Their eyes were questioning constantly glancing around him like they were searching for someone, but she had their eyes for now. She looked back and gave a nod. She grinned and nodded and held her arms out beckoning people to join her. 

Ashton was the first to move. He came to her side with their hands on their hips half glancing at their new environment, his eyes still darting around the crowd in the ship. 

He chuckled then took a breath. “We’re back bitches!” They shouted to the sky, their voice the catalyst of the people. The crowd of kids and teens burst through the large open door clambering over one another excitedly getting their hands on whatever it was they saw first. 

Her heart hadn’t felt this full in a very long time watching everyone around her explore and talk and very quickly formed groups. It seemed that the normal criminal kids already knew each other. Her face fell a little, what she wouldn’tve given to have just one person in her corner.

She shook it off quickly. That doesn’t matter anymore. That was there, this is here where everything was new. Besides. She does have a friend here, two actually. Ashton was still at her side and Chetney gave her a quick look before darting to the nearest tree smooth talking it, his finger running suggestively along its bark.

“What the fuck?” Ashton noticed the old man. “I don’t even want to know how that old fuck got here, do I?” He half heartedly joke still searching the dwindling crowd, some kids still afraid to leave what they perceived as safe. 

Laudna gave a small shake of her head and a chuckle in place of words. She still didn’t fully know how he’d gotten on or how there were still enough seats with his ‘addition.’ Something she’d have to ask later… If she in fact wanted to know. 

“Look I-” Uncharacteristically Ashton became serious turning to her. Their mouth hung open with more to say stopped by the call of his name.

“Ashton?” An accented voice called from the mouth of the door. Standing there was a shorter masculine person with light brown skin. They were dressed like everyone else, tattered black shirt and torn jean-like pants. Their dark locked hair was pulled up into a ponytail on the back of their head, the ends just spilling over a weathered blue ribbon holding it up. They held long metallic poles with arm rests that looked slightly too small for their arms using them as they walked.  Thick circular glasses rested on their nose making their soft blue eyes bigger than actually were, their eyes already going wide in pure shock. 

There was a moment of tension around them and Ashton, Laudna looking back and forth between the two quickly. “Who’s-”

“Letters!” Ashton took off running to meet this mystery person half way. They grunted lifting the much shorter “Letters” off the ground in a giant bear hug. Just as quickly they put them down grimacing a bit. “Are you okay? Did anything happen to you?” Their eyes scanned the surface of Letters’ body searching for signs of damage. This is a side of Ashton Laudna hadn’t seen often, a hidden love for their friends they kept deep down on the inside of their heart.

“Oh, uh, no. I’m fine Ashton, and forgive my rudeness here but, what the fuck are you doin’ here!” Letters shouted up at Ashton who only boisterously laughed back. Letter’s face became harder, their frown deepening. “I’m serious! You can’t be puttin’ yourself in danger all the time Ash, you’re gonna get hurt! Or worse!” They lifted one of their walking aids jabbing it into Ashton’s shin. 

“Even if I did get hurt you’d fix me up, besides there was no way I was letting you come here alone.” They chuckled at the glare they received. “Honestly I was going to do something way more stupid with your birthday coming up. I don’t know what but I probably it would’ve ended up with us both dead or in hiding.” He seemed entirely unbothered by another hit to his shin, his arms crossing over his chest comfortably. Knowing Ashton like she did, and the fact that he had the balls to take the Chancellor hostage as evidence, she had no doubt in her mind they would’ve taken out hundreds if they needed. “I should’tve let you end up alone in the first place.” A deep sadness echoed across his face. Laudna knew that look well, knew what it felt like. She carefully hovered at their side quietly watching this exchange. 

“I told you it’s not your fault. I don’t remember what happened but Dancer was so messed up and I-” They choked on their words. “The blood Ashton. It was all over me…” Those words were much quieter. Shame doused their face, eyes down cast to the ground. Laudna’s heart crushed itself at their unabashed depression. They were far too young to be carrying that type of burden. 

“Give it back!” A voice shouted. All three of them whipped around towards the source. A boy about sixteen reached over his head holding what looked like a packet of the shit food paste from Whitestone. He laughed pushing another kid, shorter by a few inches, away form him.

“Go fuck yourself.” He pushed harder sending the other boy to the ground. He lifted the open packet to his lips and cockily ate was left throwing the empty wrapper at the kid he pushed.

“Son of a bitch!” The kid screamed going in for a full swing at the bully’s face. A full on fist fight broke out in seconds. Kids swarmed around shouting and cheering on the fighters forming a loose circle around them. 

Laudna was already pushing her way through the swarm without thinking. She herself was tall, about five elven last time she checked, easily pushing thought the smaller crowd. 

“Hey hey hey!” She screamed bursting into the center of the “ring.” Her cries fell on deaf ears swatted away by sloppily flying fists. “Knock it off!” She pushed herself in between the boys taking a necessary punch to the jaw. Instantly the fight stopped. Blood poured down a split in her lip and she glowered at everyone.  “Seriously? Is this what we’re doing? Fist fighting within thirty seconds of landing on Godsdamned Exandria?” Her voice bellowed from her chest, no eyes meeting hers. Ashton was at her side in the blink of an eye.

“He stole-”

"He fucking hit-”

“I don’t get a shit who did what!” Laudna raised her voice over the bleeding fighters silencing them. Her head was pounding, their bickering pissing her off. She ground her teeth and glared. 

“Yeah, what the hell is wrong with you guys!” Chetney scootched from the front of the crowd to join her, his full height about half of her own, like he wasn’t one of the loudest and most distinct voices egging on the kids. She ignored him wiping away the blood from her face with her sleeve.

“This isn’t how we’re going to survive. We aren’t going to fight each other, we aren’t going to kill each other. We are not Whitestone. We are…” She drifted, a cool name slipping past her.  “It doesn’t matter what we are, but we aren’t them.” She pointed past the sky, through the stars, towards the floating time bomb orbiting around the world. Almost all of the remaining group had gathered around listening to her speak enraptured, some eye rolling from the older end of the spectrum. If she was honest she would’ve done the same. 

“What gives you the authority?” That voice. Laudna’s entire back went rigid.  No way, surely out of anyone that could be here he wouldn’t… Her eyes found him leaning against a tree just outside the ring of faces staring at her, half of them now looking at him. Andy. Red-brown hair long and in his face. His green eyes leveled directly at her. 

“Why should we listen to you?” He continued pushing off the tree striding straight for her. An instinctual, residual, fear hit her nerves-system. She remembered how long it took to get all of the food paste out of her hair, how many nights she cried into her pillow from his cruelty. As he stepped up into her space Ashton moved as well, their intimidating presence a welcomed support. 

“I didn’t see anyone else stepping up to do something.” She lowered her voice raising her chin. Andy had always been taller than her. Guessing from her own height he stood at a good six two. When he crossed his arms his biceps flexed, no where near as big as Ashtons but impressive nonetheless, especially compared to her own. “If anyone else wants to by all means please step in.” Confident she met every eye challenging her. A trick she learned from years of feigning a hard exterior. If weakness was shown weakness was punished. 

“Guess that’s me then.” Andy soothed his tense muscles standing impossibly tall and impossibly cool after a long beat of silence. “If you’re sick of following rules come with me, We’ll do things our way.” He raised one hand flipping his middle finger to the sky. Laudna snorted at his immaturity. It went unheeded. Andy walked away leading a group of impressionable youths closer to the edge of the clearing the crash made. The boy that had had his food stolen looked at her then Andy and shamefully turned jogging to catch up with departing bodies.

“When that falls apart you’re welcome to join us, no questions asked.” Laudna let her voice carry, a few bodies stopping then kept walking. She hissed through her teeth flinching at all the eyes on her. “Uh, okay then…” She trailed looking back to Ashton. They only shrugged very unhelpfully. 

“You’ve got this.” They snickered patting her on the shoulder hard. She took a deep breath steadying her heart and mind. Does she got this? What even is this? How did she even get here, all she did was break up a stupid fight over a paste packet…

“Okay. Everyone who knows about farming stand here. Resource gathering here, hunting here, exploring here.”

Chapter Text

With a light search of the ship, and some heavy questioning from Ashton and Chetney, they found a resource hold under the first floor. Food and water to last everyone a week or so. There was even a few pots and pans, flint and steal, a handful of daggers and sharpening stones. Whatever they sent here to do the Briarwoods really wanted them all to have a decent chance at surviving. 

By nightfall several simple wooden fire shelters had been set up with the guidance of C-Pop himself. His ways of teaching were… questionable. Yelling and berating, hardly giving out any sort of blatant praise. She hated to admit it but it worked. It got the more determined kids making sharp tools from metal scraps and stones hastily getting to work on essentials. 

“I mean. It’s terrible at best but if you keep working it’ll turn out. Just listen and follow what I do.” He walked around guiding his group with harsh words and a gentle heart.

Ashton had taken the stronger of the bunch to find and gather heavier materials. They used a giant rock and large sharp metal to split logs for various purposes. He lifted twice the weight of the next strongest person, all of them looking at him like he was a god.

“Put your fucking backs into it! Are you gonna let a fucking hunk of wood beat you?” He slammed a make shift hammer over his head punching a scrap of metal deep inside a gigantic log splitting it half.  

Letters had taken more of the deft of the group showing them how to make thread from stripped grass. He taught them to sew and stitch small gashes using large leaves.

“Now pull carefully, you don’t want it to accidentally cause more damage.” When one of the leaves ripped, it’s killer looked crestfallen. “It’s alright! We’re all still learnin’.” They smiled gently encouraging them to try again. 

Laudna had taken the rest showing them how to forage, her vast knowledge on edible berries finally coming to use. She showed them only what she was absolutely certain wouldn’t get anyone sick or killed. She was able to gather other things she had vast knowledge of, leaves that worked as bandages, moss that was good for headaches, and many others teaching her group how to identify and test each thing. 

She also knew this was no where near enough to keep all them from starving to death. With a heavy heart she was able to make a few traps, her group doing the same, some accidentally going off mid set up resulting in laughter and embarrassed faces. 

“You’re all doing so very well!” She lead them away from the traps holding make shift bags from stolen ship parts. “You all go relax, I’ll sit and watch.” Her group beamed at her making their ways back to the mainstay crunching loudly. 

She sat there hidden away watching small animals dart past faster than she could make out. Birds cawed, chirped, sang all around her in patterned call and response. The forest was alive around her setting her worried body at perfect ease. 

She didn’t think of Chancellors or husbands or even stupid Andy. She didn’t think of much far too focused on the natural beauty around her. Exandria was so much more than she hoped for. It was vibrant and so colorful. There were no walls. No confinement. It was everything she never had. 

Two traps went off. She shifted carefully seeing two large rabbits. She stared at them in a sense of horror? Disbelief? Rabbits are supposed to be small little things, no larger than a foot or so, but these… They were gigantic. Three, maybe three and a half feet nose to elongated tail. The fur was a mangy brown-grey matted and shaggy. Their ears weren’t floppy, didn’t stick straight off of their heads. They were mangles in the wrong places, on the lower side of the head or on the direct top of it spilling down torn and ruined. 

They made guttural terrible rasping distressed barks revealing jagged long sharp teeth. There was no order to them. It was like the largest teeth fought off the smaller ones pushing them willy nilly all over their mouths, some of them sticking out through their cheeks, the flesh and fur healed around them.

She had to stop herself from making some sort of horrified noise. She gripped the now obviously too small shank given to her by Ashton in shaking hands. She wished she’d listen to their pleas to take an actual dagger. 

‘They’re just small things.’ She’d said to them over confident. ‘It’ll be fine!’ She insisted pushing away the sleek black handled blade instead taking the sharp bit of metal she now held in her trembling fingers. 

The longer she sat there staring the louder the rabbits howled. She had to kill them soon or something else would, something she probably didn’t want to encounter. 

Gods below. Her heart was slamming against her ribs something painful. Carefully she stood sending both of the rabbits into another kicking frenzy trying to free themselves of the rope ensuring their back legs. They were so massive. She wasn’t sure where their hearts would be. But she did know where their throats were. 

“It’s alright. Just relax.” She spoke in a gentle tone holding her hand out as a sign of submission. The animal closest to her breathed hard staring at her with wild terrified eyes. “You’re going to be okay.” She reached her hand forward. 

The thing lashed out at her nearly taking off one of her fingers. This is harder than it sounded from books she read on Whitestone. Her chest was aching in agony begging her to let them go. She didn’t want to hurt them, let alone kill them. They looked so scared. They probably had no idea what a human even is. No wonder they were so afraid of her, they’d never seen anything like her. Just like she, them. 

She tried once more to calm it, its friend getting more wild the longer she took. When that failed she flexed her fingers along the torn up seatbelt handle over jagged metal and sighed. 

“I’m so sorry.” She picked up a near by stick baiting the rabbit to latch on to it with its awful teeth then lifted it to expose its throat. In one swift movement she dragged her makeshift blade across the length of it’s neck with as much force as she could muster. 

Red spurt and doused her in a sticky spray. It shocked her how much blood leaked from it’s body so quickly. Obviously living beings have gallons of blood give or take size but seeing it was so… jarring. 

The rabbit mewled landing on the ground with a thud. It breathed heavily looking at her tiredly. It must’ve worn itself out. Or it was trying to trick her. It’s something she’d read about, or had read to her, she couldn’t remember which. A fake out to either get away or kill it’s attacker. 

She’d always been so fascinated by how smart animals were, humans really didn’t give them enough credit. She knew better though and she approached the second animal using the same trick catching her prey by surprise. Hm, maybe animals gave themselves too much credit as well. To watch something happen then immediately make the same mistake. 

It didn’t take long for the bodies to stop moving. It still felt like forever though watching them, having no idea to end their suffering faster. It made her queasy listening to their ragged chocked breaths. She tried to cover her ears only to find her hands covered in their blood. There hadn’t been enough time to really explore too far from their camp. Not enough time to find a stream and get water to clean. Shaky and realizing she’s now a taker of lives she gathered the ropes around still back feet and began her trek back to the mainstay. 

—

It was fucking chaos. Andy’s group was dancing and shouting around large fires, their smoke beacons in the night. Some where shouting old Whitestone songs, some fighting each other for food packets or bottles of water. 

When she looked over to “her” side they were much more civilized. Groups of friends had split off sitting around much more controlled and tame fires. Ashton, always the source of fun, was the main enforcer in their growing party. They were encouraging dancing and signing, yet they were much more socially aware than Andy’s side. 

People shared their foraged food and excitedly talked about the things they had learned. Some kids gave each other grief playfully shoving each other but overall meant it in a good natured way. 

It made her smile, despite all of her muscles crying. These monster rabbits were heavier than they looked. They must be all dense muscles and hearty meats. Whatever it was she was glad to be rid of them. 

“Look what we’ve caught!” She shouted over chatter catching the attention of the partiers. There was a tense silence from both sides. She continued walking dragging animal bodies huffing and puffing until she got to about the middle of the crowd. Then she raised her arms as high as she could get them. 

An explosion of cheers echoed through the wilderness. Ashton ran up to her taking the large beasts from her shaking arms looking at her with an impressed eyebrow raise. 

“Outta my way!” Chetney’s crotchety old man voice broke through the gathering crowd of excited people. “This is another one of my specialties. Watch and learn chumps.” Ripping one of the rabbits away from Ashton he lead all the interested kids to a near by fire. With deft fingers and quick motions he began to skin and carve the animal with an almost sadistically happy look. 

“What a fuckin’ weirdo. I love him.” Ashton laughed going to join the old man’s side. Laudna watched them acutely aware of the growing presence behind her. If she turned around it would be an argument. If she walked away it would be a fight. If she did nothing then she’d be at a disadvantage. A lose, lose, lose. 

“What do you want?” She turned around coming face to face with Andy. He stood with broad shoulders and crossed arms looking at her expectantly. She stayed silent raising an eye brow, her wrist twisting her palm up. A silent ‘well?’ 

“Give us one.” He quietly, angrily, got into her face. She pulled away taking a step back. Engaging him is more pointless than a circle. He’s only going to go round and round until he gets what he wants. 

“No.” She took another step to avoid a second and third advance towards her. “Go get your own, Andy.” She spoke low and dangerous keeping out of his reach. 

“So you’re just gonna let my side starve?” He raised his voice garnering quick attention. He looked at her smugly, a sort of ‘caught ya’ on his face. 

“Of course not, you have-”

“How very fucking Chancellor of you, Laudna. Is that what we should call you? Chancellor Laudna?” His voice carried far more weight than he knew. She completely froze, face falling blank. Her stomach flipped throwing bile into her throat acidic and vile. She was like the Chancellor? No, Delilah is… Does that make her…

“Well?” Andy reached a hand out expecting her to give him something. There were so many eyes on them. On her. The noise had stopped, the only indication time hadn’t was the crackling of fire. 

“I-” Words failed her. “I’m not…” Her breath hitched. In all the time they’d spent together had she inadvertently become like her?

“Hey fuck stick.” It was Chutney’s voice that pulled her eyes away from Andy’s. His smaller extremely well built ancient form pushing her back another few steps. “If you want some go catch it yourself. This isn’t Whitestone, there’s no hand outs, bitch.” He shoved Andy pointing a daring finger at his chest. 

“It’s only fair-”

“Fair? Pshah. Fuck fair. You wanted to spilt off and now you have. Face the consequences of your own actions coward.” Chetney turned around taking Laudna’s stunned hand. “Let’s go.” He spoke only to her pulling at her gently.

“No questions asked.” She looked to the smaller, scrawnier kids getting pushed around and used as punching bags. She softly smiled seeing a handful stand and join her as they walked away.

She sat down beside Letters. They gave her a look, their blue eyes impossibly large from their glasses. She shook her head instead giving her attention to Chetney. He worked carefully instructing as he moved. Skins were hung up, Meat’s were put on sticks slowly roasting over fires, and he was covered almost head to toe in blood. 

She grimaced. The only water they have is from the ship. They can’t waste that. Not until they have a viable healthy source to keep them sustained. But gods below the fucking smell was intolerable. Metallic and raw and far too clingy to the nostrils. She gagged leaning heavily away from the bloodied old man.

“Don’t be such a baby Laudna, It’s just blood.” He rubbed his hand like he was putting on lotion. “It’s great for the skin.” She suddenly remembered the blood on her own hands. It was flaking now, dried and stuck to her. Her pants could only do so much to get it off, it felt like the worlds worst gloves. 

She looked past him and into the forest. She gave a silent apology to the lives she’d taken from it. She said a silent thank you for giving them a means to stay alive in this brand new world. 

Then her heart stopped. Two small glints radiated off the low orange light of the fires. Eyes. Two goat like green eyes reflected like a cat’s staring straight at her. She looked back trying to make out more. The forest was so dark she could hardly make out what was a bush and what was tree root. It was almost impossible to see anything beyond those glowing green eyes.

“Letters…” She patted their shoulder keeping direct eye contact with the eyes. “Letters.” She glanced at her friend for a micro second, his attention on the grass he was stringing.

“What?” The much smaller Letters looked around where her eyes were pointed, their face scrunched in question and a little annoyance. The eyes had vanished. Gone in half a second. Was it a trick of her own gaze? Stressed out and thinking too hard about far too many things? 

“Never mind, just a trick of the night I guess.” She waved her hand not taking her eyes away from the surrounding for a good few minutes. Goat eyes. In a forest? Is that even likely? Those rabbits were, well, not not rabbits. They weren’t exactly what she’d thought they’d be either so, maybe there are forest goats? If there are forest goats are they hunters or prey? Gods below. Do they have to worry about fucking forest goats? 

Her mind began another downward spiral. Images of hulking bleating forest roaming goats had her slightly rocking back and forth to sooth herself. She imagined them with hundreds of pointed jagged teeth and tusks sticking out of the bottoms of their mouth. She gave them gigantic hooves with serrated pointed edges. She pictured the carnage. Spilt blood and gore and dead bodies all around her. 

It took physically shaking her head to get herself back to reality. She got a look from her friends easily waving them off by pointing to the now ready meat still slow cooking, it’s outsides perfectly browed and dripping in juices, it’s smell as new to the divine gate as they were going to get. 

As the night wore on people began to bed down, some outside the ship and some finding the stable shelter a safer place. She was still sat by a fire watching the stars with Ashton besides her. They sat silent on a stump looking up and sighed heavily before looking away. 

“Andy doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.” He looked at her looking at the stars. Her entire body tensed. He hit her foot with his a little roughly putting out an air like he knew what he was saying. But how could he? He didn’t know what had happened to her. How she had seeped into her blood like a poison. 

“I know.” Short and curt her eyes remained up. Can she see her right now? Is she healed and looking down on her from a far. Does she want her to? Finally free from her ever constant eye, that’s a good thing. Isn’t it? To be free of the thing that’d been killing her slowly. It was, is, a good thing. Now she has agency for herself. She can make her own choices.

“You’re nothing like her.” His eyes followed hers staring up at the glittering night. There were so many stars. Millions more than saw in space, which was weird but made sense in an odd way. 

“I.” She paused. “Thank you Ashton.” She sincerely chose her words hiding away her dread. ‘Chancellor Laudna.’ It made her sick. She isn’t anything like her. She isn’t… She shook her head putting it in her hands. She isn’t. 

“That bitch up there is so fucking far beneath you.” They slapped a hand on her shoulder hard. She jolted in pain looking at them in ‘what the fuck was that for’? He smiled. “Seriously. You’re so much better than she could ever dream.” 

“Really?” She wanted to so desperately believe them. Wanted so desperately to believe she’s a good person. 

“Really.” They were so sure. Not a single hint of doubt ghosted their face or body language. She gave a careful grin back tearing her gaze away from the sky. There were many more important things to worry about like…

“Oh!” She startled a bunch people. “Be on the watch for forest goats.” She spoke animatedly, wild gestures and natural inflections in her voice. 

“What?” Ashton laughed from their chest in surprise.

“Forest goats! I saw eyes over there-ish.” She pointed to the pitch black forest. No eyes greeted her this time. “They were green and glowing and right there…Ish.” She received a few head nods, another handful of kids went into the drop ship for the night. 

——

With morning sun came morning dew and low hanging fog clinging to trees. The suns rays shone through diluted through the fog lighting it up a soft golden. Soft winds sent that golden light spiraling and glistening in a beautiful swirl of color. Birds called to each other, animals and bugs buzzed and chirped bringing the forest to life all around them. 

Laudna had woken far before the sun. She had been sitting in blues and purples of dusk listening to soft croaks of frogs and low rumbles of creatures. It was all so peaceful. She breathed in the fine cold morning air drinking in it’s briskness. Her lungs expanded and fell feeling full, cold, alive. 

The loneliness of the forest felt right. It felt for her to be the only one for a while. It felt even better when Ashton rose off the ground instantly finding her already up and pacing. She waved gently stepping to them to avoid waking anyone else. 

“Y’know we should get those off of you all.” He pointed to the bracelet on her wrist. Instinct made her want to defend it, keep it. Logic knew he was right. 

“Yeah, probably.” She tensely fell into silence waiting for others to rise. There was so much left unanswered. She tried to think of what the sleek metal trapped into her flesh was for, a monitor most likely. But for what? What the fuck did Whitestone need these for? 

“Have anything in mind?” She broke the silence letting Ashton inspect the metal closely. Their eyes were blank. They didn’t know shit about this.

“Smash it?” Wicked. They had a wicked look to their eye. Laudna looked at them then her wrist then back. 

“We can try.” She let Ashton lay her wrist down on a rock. She watch him raise another jagged grey-black stone and- she closed her eyes. Her wrist screamed in sharp pain, the rods in her skin tearing her flesh open. 

Then she opened her eyes. The metal was destroyed and off of her. Blood seeped out of her from four points, two on top of her wrist two on the bottom. She felt. Amazing, scared, terrified, and free. The literal claws that had been sunk into her were gone. 

“You’re screaming so, nothing broke?” Ashton asked sitting back down in the dirt. She shook her head. 

“I don’t think so.” She sat besides them looking at her empty wrist. 

—

Eventually a large number of people were up, each given the option to destroy their bracelet. No one declined getting rid of them, their hatred for Whitestone more powerful than their fear of pain. The freed walked and talked gathering each other. It warmed her heart to see all of their bodies moving about one another. All of these wonderful kids would’ve been sent off. Their lives snuffed. She waited for a long while before standing and deciding to start the day. 

“Alright all, we have to find a source of water today, and hunt for later. Who would like to help with that?” She spoke loudly to the bustling lives before her. 

“I’m going and exploring the forest for sure.” Chetney was seductively looking at the trees, fingers running over his chisels like he was undressing himself for them. She grimaced having to look away. 

“We’ll hunt and stuff.” A boy around sixteen looked at the ground. He was all lanky arms and thin limbs, his clothes spilling off of his body. He gestured to a girl at his side. She was tall, shorter than Laudna but taller than most. She was built like a tree in comparison to the boy who’d spoken. 

“Fantastic, be sure to keep yourselves armed. Oh, and make sure you have at least two more before going out. Safety in numbers and all. Oh! Stay close, don’t wonder too far. If you can’t see the ship you are too far.” She fussed over them fixing belts and making sure they were as armed as possible. 

“Alright Laudna, Let them get to it.” Ashton stepped up behind her with their arms crossed. She blushed a bit looking back at the small group of kids that’d formed ready and willing to hunt and gather. 

“I’m sorry if I’m careful.” She put her hand on her hips. “It’s dangerous. Be careful and come back.” A gentle command. She couldn’t live with herself if they didn’t. “No on else wants to join our little escapade?” She opened the invite hoping no one would. 

“I uh, would please.” A soft spoken giant of a teenager sheepishly raised his hand. He was on the heavier side, teeth a mess in his mouth. His hair was brown and on the longer side, his head constantly flicking to keep it out of his eyes. 

“Okay.” Laudna smiled though her fears. “So me, Chet, Ash, Letters and…?” She prompted for a name. 

“Pretty.” Pretty softly gave stomping up to join their exploration group. Laudna stared for a long, long second. 

“What a lovely name.” She stuck her hand out for Pretty shake. His hand was double hers in size swallowing it whole. Her entire body rocked with the the strength of his hand shake. It felt like all of the bones in her hand had been turned to dust, but still she smiled trying to stop the watering of her eyes. 

“Come along then.” She rasped out ignoring Ashton’s silent chiding. 

“Are you alright? Do you want e to wrap it for you?” Letters strode idle at her side, their walking aids crunching loudly. She shook her head smiling gently. 

“It’s fine. Just a little poundy.” She was absently shaking her hand like the dull thudding pain would disappear if she kept at it. 

After a long while of nothing she let Chetney take the lead, then scolded him for fondling every tree he deemed worthy. He argued saying he was searching, for what he wouldn’t specify. 

It took a near ten minute walk until they heard the sounds of moving water. The five of them rushed forward breaking though brush and tree line forgetting to be quiet all together. 

It was beautiful. A crystal clear river about twenty feet across split the forest in two. It’s waters were fast, but not dangerous. Bugs skated across the smoother surfaces breaking it into ripples where they landed. Laudna watched a few fairly large fish jump though the air landing back into the river with a sploosh of water.

Across the river from them two deer drank from it’s edge. They were just like the pictures in books and hard slides from projectors. Tan, big black eyes and thin sticky legs. They took notice of the group staring like idiots in awe of the world they’d crashed into. Then they ran darting back into the woods quickly. 

“They were very pretty.” Pretty idly stared after their receding forms. For such a large person he was so gentle. Small animals and birds seemed to lean to him, watch him carefully where he stood still at the rivers edge. 

“I bet they taste godsdamn amazing.” Ashton commented looking around. “Hey Chet. You think you could catch ‘em?” They teased nodding their head towards the now disappeared deer.

“Obviously. It’d be piece of cake, I am called the greatest hunter of all time for a reason.” The old man didn’t hesitate in his response not looking away from the hunk of wood he’d found and started carving. 

“Well I think we should fill up and get back. I’ve got an uneasy feelin’” Letters adjusted themselves on their walking aids looking around carefully. “I don’t want to meet any woodland goats either.” His big blue eyes winked at Laudna. 

“What? Oh, yeah. Definitely not.” She’d been so lost in her reverie she hadn’t payed any of them a single mind. Looking at her red stained hands she sighed kneeling down. Hesitantly she lowered her hand into the water. Her entire body shivered. It was so cold. Colder than she would’ve thought for the midday sun. She wondered what it would be like to bathe in this water, how it’s cool would douse her body and rinse her hair free of debris and grease. Another time, maybe. 

“Ready to-” Her eyes opened in shock. As she turned to look at her friends a long javelin wizzed past her head flying into Pretty’s chest. He stumbled back two steps gripping the thick wood in both of his hands staring at it wide eyed. 

“Ow.” He whispered, his eyes fluttering dangerously. “That really hurt. This really hurts.” He went to pull the sleek wood from his chest stopped by Letters and Laudna screaming.

“Stop!” They both shouted. Laudna rushed forward taking Pretty’s hands from the weapon. “Leave it. We’ll get it out at camp okay?” She was scared, her voice shaking. Her eyes couldn’t find anything, nothing beside woods and water. Where the fuck did this come from? Worse, who threw it? 

“Lets fucking go.” Ashton grabbed Pretty under the arm letting themselves work as a crutch. “Stay with me, you hear me? I can’t drag your shitty dead body if you go down. Stay the fuck up.” He was just as terrified doing his best to keep Pretty moving. 

Chapter Text

Stumbling and swearing the five of them crashed into he camp site ignoring every eye and scrambling question. Pretty barely made into the bottom floor of the ship before collapsing. Ashton had to let him drop lest he be crushed by his towering size, his body hit with a deafening thud. 

“Laudna, what do-” Letters looked at her. They were desperately staring between her and the weapon embedded in Pretty’s chest. She stared back just as desperate for an answer. Surgery, but they don’t have anything. Not a single fucking thing. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“We have to close the wound. We have to control the bleeding and then. Close it.” She went over the checklist in her head. She wasn’t a doctor. She listened to her mother talk about surgery, hell she’d even watched a few. Her mother going so far as to make her take classes to become a CNA.

She still isn’t a gods damned doctor. What the hell is she supposed to do? Something, someone was out there. They were watching them. Stalking them. Attacking them when they knew it would benefit them the most.

“Shit.” She stood looking at all the horrified confused faces outside staring in, at her desperately waiting for her word. “Everyone get in here.” Some started to move. “Now!” She screamed voice low and dangerous. She made her way outside the ship before the crowd was too thick to move through grabbing one of the kids by the shoulder. “The four that left, are they back?” They looked at her with wide eyes shaking their head terrified. 

“N-No, I don’t know!” They tore away from her scrambling into the ship with everyone else. Even Andy didn’t have some smart ass retort. He clambered through the crowd of rushing bodies grabbing and throwing kids out of his way. A few fell instantly swallowed by the mass of racing bottlenecked feet. 

It was like her body was on some sort of automatic save all. She rushed without a second thought snatching the downed people with ease. Adrenaline strength was no joke. She stood in the rushing bodies steadfast hoisting the last trodden body off the ground pushing them back into the flow of stoppered up people.

“Get in here!” Andy called to her standing in the opened doorway. His hand was wrapped in spare belts holding himself against the current. She stared a him like he was insane, he doing the same right back. 

Hero and coward. What’s the difference? A hero saved everyone else. They usually lose their lives as the cost. A coward runs, sacrifices others so they can survive. They usually lose their lives in the process. 

“I’m closing the fucking door, get in here or I’m leaving you.” His hand hovered over a raised red button. She looked at the forest then back to Andy turning slightly away to run head first into the wilderness, find those four missing people and bring them back.

“We can’t Laudna.” Chetney gripped the bottom of her shirt tightly holding her in place, one foot walking towards the forests edge. “We have to get to safety.” Solemnly he pulled her along. She let him. Her heart was pounding against her chest horribly hard and terribly fast. She had to keep as many people as she could alive, herself included. Does that make her a coward as well? Willingly, knowingly, leaving those four behind so she can live to see tomorrow. She never even got their names. She just sent them off alone. If she had gone with then… Then she wouldn’t have been here now. She doesn’t want to lose anyone, but what can she do? 

Chetney yanked at her shirt lurching her body three steps forwards. He stared at her with saddened eyes shaking his head. His mouth moved, but she heard nothing. ‘We can’t save them all.’ She knew he was right. But still. She felt like she was going to hurl.

The open mouth of the door felt like it was mocking her. Laughing at her as she finally stepped up it’s draw bridge door making sure she was the last one to enter. Chetney’s fist was still tightly holding her shirt like he was afraid she’d dart out, that she’d run. She looked to him and shook her head. He nodded back letting her go stalking off to sit at Letter’s side. 

She had to tear her eyes away from blood and frantic terrified hands doing their best to stop the gushing wound. Beside Pretty laid a blood soaked javelin. She stared at it, visions of the weapon flying past her head. She felt the wind of it and then… Pretty stumbling. Pretty groaning and speaking so gently when he should’ve screamed. 

She forced her eyes outside seeing the forest roil. It writhed like giant snakes weaving between trees. She stared in pure horror watching scales turn to cloth. It was people. Hundreds of people doused in green, black, and brown beginning to break into their crash site screaming, running straight for them with weapons in hand, faces red in fury. 

For the first time in the entirety of touching down on Exandira she froze. Her body was screaming at her to run, fight, scream, cry, her brain couldn’t keep up. There were people, real life actual people running towards them fully intending to kill them all. And she fucking froze.

“Close the door. Close the damn door!” So many voices were shouting. So many screaming in fear. Bodies ran trying to climb to the second floor stepping over and on Pretty’s body. When Andy stood staring at all the human faces tearing towards them something broke. She came back to her senses, the mumbling feeling in her ears clearing in a second. She pushed herself forward slamming her hand against the button she’d found naught by a day ago. 

The drawbridge like door creaked. It groaned straining to pull the heavy metal up off the ground. She didn’t know what else to do frantically hitting the button over and over hoping it would do something. 

Still the mechanisms creaked. Still the strange people ran for them. A few sharpened weapons crashed though the door and into the metal off the ship’s walls. 

Please please please. She begged whoever was listening to for once grant her some sort of mercy. She’s owed it, isn’t she? After everything she’s gone through, everything she had to endure to get here. She deserved a sliver of a chance to actually live a gods damned life. 

“Please.” She hit the button one last time with all the strength she had left in her shaking body. A long whine filled the air stunning anyone too close. Her hands flew over her ears as the door lifted closing slowly. They stopped half way up screaming, crunching, grinding. Then the metal moaned snapped like alligator jaws sending them into darkness. Behind her fire light erupted, a few kids holding lit torches. 

She turned to them silently thanking them. Every single body flinched hearing pounding on the outside of the ship. Shit. Now what? They’re in a fucking kill box. She looked to Letters trying their best to fix Pretty, fire being used to burn the bleeding wound. She winced at the instant smell of smoldering flesh. Ashton was at their side helping in any way he could. Chetney was standing with a dazed look at the door. Even his over the top personality couldn’t prevail. 

She had to do something. Had to think. They’re in a rocket ship. Rocket ships. What do rocket ships have? Metal. Seats. Thrusters… Thrusters! Rockets have thrusters. Thrusters shoot fire. Fire kills. She looked around quickly. 

“I need this.” She ripped a torch from some kid's hand tearing her way around the ship. By sheer luck she found a thick rectangular remote looking thing. There were so many symbols she didn’t understand. She did, however, know what the up arrow probably meant. 

Gods below this could kill them all. If this didn’t then the shouting, ripping, pounding, people outside sure would. Squeezing her eyes shut she pressed the remote hard. 

There was a cacophony of screams as the ship roared. She fell to the ground along with many others as the ship rose jostling unsteadily. The screams outside were so loud. They were full of agony. They were so brief. All of those lives gone in an instant. A moment of fear and desperation. 

The ship hit the ground for a second time. This time though it seemed to sink, shrivel were it lay. There would be no second use of the thrusters. The one and only trump card they had, gone. 

Silence thickened the air. It was hard to breathe, was it from the heat? From all the panicked breathing and crying? Whatever it was that door had to open before they all suffocated. 

She was the first one to move. She crawled trembling head to foot slowly pushing her way to her feet. Hands helped her off the floor and to steady herself. They helped her get to the door and helped her stand despite her knees buckling under the shear frequency she was vibrating. 

“Don’t.” Andy wheezed grabbing her wrist. “What if-” She shook him free slamming her hand on the release. The door shrieked. The metal ground against itself like moving parts were no longer working. Metal slammed straight down embedding into the charred ashen dirt below, a cloud of hot grey dust burning the lungs of everyone too close. That was broken too now. They have no shelter, and no end all weapon. They were essentially defenseless. 

Gods below. Her dark eyes looked out into their simmering campsite. Small wooden shelters disappeared. Everything had been blackened to charred carbon. Her stomach lurched seeing still smoldering bodies melted and fused together nearer to the forests edge, the trees burned and thankfully not aflame.

From two to dozens. Hundreds of lives now on her hands and her hands alone. She stared at her shaking fingers. They were coated in thick sludgy red sloughing to the metallic floor where she stood. It sank into her work out boots. Seeped into her clothes, her skin. It was everywhere. It slid down the smooth metallic door making it slick, dangerous, could kill someone if they slipped.

Her knees gave out. She slammed to the ground unaware of the pain rocketing through her from hip to toe. There was so much blood on her hands. There was so much blood on her hands. There was so much blood on her hands. 

Hero and villain. Where does the line exist between them? What makes a hero a hero, a villain a villain? Taking lives for their cause? Doing what they think is best for selfish and selfless reasons? How does one walk that line without crossing it? Has she crossed that line? Can she ever go back? Is she just like her now, a justified killer for the greater good of her own people?

“You saved us.” A small voice spoke beside her. A very young girl, no older than twelve, looked at her with too much experience in her big, weathered green eyes. 

Laudna had no response looking back to her hands. The blood was gone. It was just her paler, veiny self looking back at her wholly unmarked or stained. But they were. She was stained. 

Her eyes drifted back outside. Bodies. Twisted, melted, bodies. The longer she looked the more she saw. Exposed skeletons, what once was skin disburdening itself to the ground wetly. This time she couldn’t hold it back. Her entire empty stomach leapt out of her throating coating the metal door in clear acidic bile. Those closest to her jumped away disgusted, some retching along with her.

Wiping her mouth she forced herself to her feet. Forced herself to put on a brave face and turned to face the crowd of so many eyes looking to her for guidance. Gods be-fucking-low. How the fuck did she end up here? She took a deep breath forcing away the panic filling every fiber of her being. 

“Alright.” Her voice was so shaky. She cringed at herself coughing away the burn at the top of her throat. “We need to prepare. We need weapons made. Javelins, spears, Chentey if you’re able to make bows, arrows, please get on that. Everyone else just.” She paused needing to take another breath. “Get yourselves ready.” Without another word or glance she turned and walked off the ship with faux confidence. 

Hesitant steps followed long moments later, the rest of the delinquents fanning out dazed and forever changed by the sights in front of them. She made use of the distraction, her distraction, stealthily making her way around the back of the ship isolating herself a little ways into the forest.

Her vision was tunneling. She was tripping over her own feet all but falling to the ground. She gasped for air trying to fill lungs that felt impossibly empty. Tears stung her eyes as she clasped her hands to her chest having a full panic attack. 

Nothing made sense. Her head tried to grapple with the fact that she’s now killed hundreds of people. Not just measly rabbits. People. Living, breathing, feeling people. Hundreds all at once… Maybe more than even she has. But they aren’t the same. She did it out of necessity…. She had to. Everyone was going to die if she didn’t….

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no. Hands wrapped around her shoulders. They were thin, long, and beyond freezing. She felt the familiar upper half of a body press against her back, fingers slipping to wrap around her waist extremely tight. 

“You and I. We are the same my dear.” Her voice whispered softer than breezes through the tree’s canopy. “Taking lives to save lives.” She felt the ghost of cold lips brush past the outside of her ear.

“I-I’m not-” Gasping. Sobbing she gripped the sides of her head fisting her hair until it gave her a headache. “We’re not-” The arms around her tightened, her lungs feeling even more crushed than before. 

“Oh, but we are aren’t we?” The phantom voice of Delilah chuckled, one of her hands running it’s middle finger up the center of her torso, sternum, chest until her fingers wrapped around her throat. “We justify, we explain away, we take.” The fingers on her neck crushed. 

Instinctual fear sparked in her chest. This is far from the first time she’s felt hands around her throat. Far from the first time she’s cried and begged and fought. Still. She gasped shuddering against the pressure, trying to breathe despite everything telling her she couldn’t. 

She grasped at the hand on her neck finding nothing. There wasn’t anyone around her. She’s alone in the forest crying her eyes out. But she’s here. She can feel her, hear her. 

“We’re the same, my darling Laudna.” The phantom clenched harder. Delilah laughed at her pressing down on her chest with all of her ghostly strength. Laudna was near wailing. They aren’t the same. They aren’t. They can’t be. They-they-they- “My dear. Just admit it. You are what I made you. You. Are. Mine.” 

Her breaking point.

“I am not!” She screamed into the air scrambling against the arms and hands on her body. “I am nothing like you! I-I!” She crawled across the burned forest floor trying to rip herself away from her abuser. Tear herself free of her grasp and just fucking breathe. 

“Oh, you’ll see in time. You know I’ll see you again.” Her voice became fainter, her spectral hold failing. “Stay alive, Laudna.” The last thing she’d said to her echoed around, into her head again and again and again. 

She whimpered sitting on her knees, curling herself into a pile in the dirt. She continued to sob her heart out, her tear ducts long since dried out leaving her a choking mess until her body finally gave up. She crumbled, her breathing stuttered. All she could do was listen to the sounds of slowly retuning nature around her.

——

The sun moved across the sky. She laid on her back staring up though the ship sized hole in tree canopy watching clouds move across the sky. Idly she’d been playing with her hair. Pulling it out then letting it fall. She stared at the artificial streak of white feeling her stomach spin unstably. 

She covered her eyes digging the heels of palms until she saw bursts of light. Crunching footsteps had her sitting up fast, her eyes darting around quickly. Ashton stood a few paces away from her staring with arms crossed. 

“Everyone thinks you fucked off.” They leaned against a very crude looking hammer. A long wooden handle that will definitely give them splitters with a large rock for it’s head. Rope bound the wood and stone, how they managed to carve into it she didn’t know, if anyone could it’d be Ashton. “Are you coming or am I gonna have to drag your ass back?” They stood up straight throwing the hammer over their shoulders with one hand. 

“Oh don’t worry Ashton. I’m coming.” She stood up on weak knees, her fingers playing and dancing together. She tried her best to keep up her normal self. She didn’t smile knowing it would be far too fake. She’d learned to compartmentalize early on in her solitude. Now is no different. 

They walked back in silence. There were people everywhere now, the groups she’d formed the day before teaching other kids what they learned. There as a pile of spears, large spiked logs lined the outside of their camp. There was plenty of room for human sized creatures to slip through the gaps but, it felt safer nonetheless. She stared in awe at the cooperation going around their once divided camp.

“Thank the gods.” A kids around sixteen saw her and charged over. “That little guy, what the hell is their name? Leo… Letterman, whatever. They need you.” The kid pushed the two of them towards the ruined and singed drop ship. Ashton bared his teeth as the kid touched their back. He jumped away from them holding his hands up and backing away. She shot her friend a look. Amused, but not the time. She gestured for them to leave it alone. Letters and Pretty are far more important than this petty fight. 

“You’re finally back. I was able to get the wound closed but it’s.” Letter’s jolted up at the sound of their footsteps. “It’s not, well, pretty.” They shifted trying to get to their feet too fast. Ashton rushed helping them up. Sitting in where a gaping wound once was an amateur suture job holding his skin closed. It was no where near the cleanness she’s used to seeing. Jagged lines, uneven stitches, it was absolutely perfect. 

“You’re amazing Letters.” Laudna rushed forward hugging them tightly. They held her back with one hand, the other keep themselves stabilized with their walking aids. She pulled back breathing a soft steadying breath. That’s one less thing she has to worry about. One less thing she has to have biting at her on the periphery. 

It was soothing to count the number of breaths Pretty took within a minute or so. A normal person takes between twelve to sixteen, Pretty was a little off. He was breathing a little slow, but he was still breathing. All of the wondering bodies were still breathing. 

“They’re alive because of you.” Ashton slammed his hand on her shoulder jostling her hard. 

“Owah!” She ripped away from him glaring. He only laughed at her leaning back on their hammer. A new statement for them, it seemed. “Ashton!” She growled at them hitting them back. It didn’t really do much.

“I fucking mean that shit by the way. I don’t say a Gods damned thing I don’t mean.” They reached to hit her again. She was ready for it doing their open palm slap. She didn’t smile, didn’t really respond. She took the information and sat with it. She stood at the door watching about a hundred people living their lives, scared as they all were. 

Chetney caught her eye about twenty or so feet from the drawbridge door. He beckons her over with a wave of his grizzled hand. Wood chips flew all around him as he worked like a mad man, a few discarded curved pieces of wood scattered around him. 

“Chet?” She floated to him. “Are you alright?” She moved silently sitting beside him. He said nothing panting, his face exaggerated and giant. She was very acutely aware of every eye on her. Everyone was looking to her like she had everything figured out. She had nothing figured out. 

Something thudded beside her. It was heavy, hollow, and metallic. She looked expecting to see part of the ship. Maybe something someone threw out of frustration. Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. 

Time moved slowly then, as realization hit her. It was a canister. Marked with a fuchsia ‘x’. By the time she grabbed Chetney the thing exploded. She felt her ear drum blow. Felt the heat before she saw the pink smoke. She tried to stand feeling instantly woozy. Her vision darkened at the edges. She ended up laying on her side reaching for… Someone. An astronaut? A person in a space suit held something in their hands. Long, thin, cylindrical. A gun? 

She barely got out a strangled whimper before she lost consciousness. 

Chapter Text

The room is made of white smooth walls. In the center of the far most wall a bed raised off the ground, guard rails on either side. In the center of the white bed dressed in loud white sheets is a girl, eighteen and a few days old slowly coming to. All there was to hear was loud, horrified breathing. 

The air. The first thing she noticed was the air and how crisp it was. Her lungs expanded taking in a deep breath, her face falling to a sickened grimace. The air is so fucking crisp. It felt like room temperature. Dense and hard sitting in the center of slowly speeding lungs. Her mind was slower to process what was happening, her eyes taking in information quicker than the rest of her. She was in a hospital room. 

She moved to sit feeling a tug in her arm. Following a long thin tube she stared up a clear bag drip drip dripping something into her. It was probably morphine, or some other pain killer. She had no way of knowing and didn’t care to find out. 

The world spun around as she flew to sit up. It took all of her will power to hold herself there, eyes clenched closed waiting out the dizzy spell whispering for her to lay back down. She mumbled something, her own speech lost to her as she ripped the needle out of her arm. 

As her feet hot the hard ground she nearly jumped out of her skin. Where are her boots? She looked down at her clothes. A white T-shirt hugged her body just slightly too small for her liking. Her pants had been replaced with lightly stained, faded white pants that were supposed to be too short or they just didn’t fit her lanky body. 

Her head was swimming trying to make sense of far too much all at once. It felt one of her ears was plugged, like it needed to pop or there was something in the canal. She pressed against the outside of her ear not feeling any obstruction. Clenching and unclenching her teeth while swallowing wasn’t working then why…

The explosion. The canister… Her friends. A new terrible wave of anxiety had her stumbling towards the white metal door across the room from where she had woken. She peered out of the lone, small window watching for any sign of movement, her fingers snapping at either of her head in the mean time. She frowned, the left side was far more mumbled than the right. Of course it was, a bomb went off not even five feet from her. She shook her head and regretted it instantly, bile burning all the way up her throat. She struggled to swallow it back down gasping for air the second she got the chance.

If she’s here then everyone else should be as well. Right? She has to find her friends. She has to make sure they’re okay, that everyone is okay. She tried the long silver door handle gently pushing it down. It stayed where it was locked in place. She scowled looking over her shoulder and the IV still drip drip dripping next to the hospital bed. Good idea as any, she guessed. She took a deep breath stilling her nerves as she lifted the metal pole over her shoulder doing her best to stay steady on bare swaying feet.

One

Two

Three times she slammed metal against glass listening to the very satisfying sound of shattering. In seconds she had her arm groping for the lock throwing open the inconspicuously heavy door without a second thought. 

“Fuck me…” She whispered afraid her voice would carry down cylindrical stone halls to her left and right. Metal doors like the one she’d just burst from lined the walls in even intervals. She wasn’t sure where to go sprinting down the hall to her left, her eyes constantly scanning each room she passed hoping to see familiar faces. 

Each and every one was empty, not a soul in sight. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. On the plus side there weren’t any space suit people with guns coming after her. She was fast, but she wasn’t that fast. There was no way she’d survive a fight all by herself. On the negative side she still had no idea if her friends were okay. Or if they were alive… 

Her heart pounded at the images dancing behind her eyes. Ashton, face blown off and crude hammer crushed into his chest. Letters torn asunder beside their best friend. Chetney covered in blood and staring blankly up at the sky. Every person from Whitestone hung, or shot, or exploded or-

She nearly tripped coming to a full stop at the sound of voices echoing off the walls. They sounded like they were coming from everywhere and no where all at once. Her already pounding heart began to hurt as it slammed against her ribs, her breaths too loud. 

There was no where to hide. The walls were smooth, carved with electrical florescent lights evenly spaced about half way up the incredibly tall tunnels. She was standing in the middle of the long dizzying path spinning like an idiot trying to decipher where the voices were coming from. The loss of hearing in one of her ears was already biting her in the ass, the thought making her smirk at the unbelievable situations she’d always managed to find herself in. 

“-just broke through the glass. It was everywhere.” A deep masculine voice spoke. His deep bassy voice seemed to reverberate off the walls and vibrate her bones.

“Well what would you do if you woke up the way they have?” An ancient sounding voice chuckled coyly. The gentleness made her entire body seize. There was something about it, the way the older voice spoke that had her entire alarm system going off. “Oh, well would you look at that.” She whipped around seeing a pair of people walking towards her. 

The younger looking man, tall and well built wore a very padded, and very loaded looking tactical vest. It was a very faded puke green resting over a grey shirt, his pants khaki and torn at the knee on his right side. Poking out of the hole was a prosthetic piece. He must’ve had it for a long time, there was no limp to his step at all. His combat boots clapped against the stone floor at his approach, the noise seemingly intentional.

Just behind him was a very wrinkled older woman. Her hair had gone full white where it was nicely done up on top of her head, a long thin silver pick though her bun keeping it in place. Launda saw the way the edge glistened in flickering lights, had seen that very same razor edge in faux lighting enough to know what it is. A hidden weapon. She took note of it adding it to her list of ‘absolutely avoids.’ Unlike her body guard she wore a a very nice looking navy suit. There wasn’t a single tear or wrinkle her dark eyes could see even as she slowly followed after her escort. 

“We’ve been looking for you, please, follow us to the Banquet Hall.” The old woman spoke with a smile so soft it made Laudna want to turn and run. “I can guarantee running will get you no where.” Her eyes turned hard as she smiled at her. “My name is Emoth Kade. Welcome to Mount Weather.” Emoth stopped when her escort did about twenty or so feet away from their quarry. 

Laudna had been micro stepping backwards keeping her guard up and ready for them to strike. She didn’t trust them. Didn’t like the way Emoth’s smile never seemed to really reach her eyes, her smile lines far too smooth for them to be genuine. Everything in her told her turn and book it. But what choice did she have? She has no idea where she is, where her friends are. She has no fucking clue which way is up or down.

So as practiced as always she put on a smile and feigned her calm. “I do apologize for meeting like this.” She still didn’t get closer. “You can imagine what was going through my head seeing as how I was brought here.” She let her own forced smile match the one she was receiving. 

“Right.” Emoth’s eyebrow twitched. “Well let’s not dawdle any longer. The food will only stay hot for so long.” The old woman turned on her kittened black heel pausing with a look over her shoulder, a satisfied look on her face seeing Laudna follow without fuss. 

Her visioned flashed. Stone walls turned to bleached metal. The body guard’s outfit changed to that of the Whitestone garb. Her chest skipped seeing Delilah’s face take the place of Emoth’s. It took her digging her nails into her palms extremely hard to come back to reality. 

“So…” She decided information was more important that her blatant survival instinct to stay quiet. She wasn’t on Whitestone anymore. Delilah isn’t here. Speaking without permission won’t end in her suffering. “Where are we exactly?” She kept her eyes forward very, very aware the guard was hovering too close to her side.

“Generations ago our people were forced to seek refuge as the world came to a nuclear end.” Emoth began speaking with a very proud gusto. This is likely a story she’d told many, many times over her years. “Mount Weather has provided everything we’ve ever needed. Food, water, shelter, air. The only problem, we can’t leave. The world outside is… Far too alight with radioactive energy.” She glanced back watching the emotions run across Laudna’s face. They’ve been under ground for that long? But what about the people who attacked them? They didn’t wear the protection the people that invaded their camp had. They’d only really worn leathers and forest colored camouflage.

“But I, we, didn’t have a problem when we arrived.” Absently she let her mind wonder, her voice quieter on one side of her compared to the other. 

“Yes, I thought the same thing. Forgive my invasiveness but I had my brightness minds borrow some blood.” She didn’t let Laudna get a word in continuing right on with speaking. “Turns out you and your friends have a sort of, defense, against the radiation. Probably from growing up in space.” She finished letting the information sink in one word at a time. 

“Oh.” Was all Laudna could very eloquently come up with. At least she knew running was an option. They couldn’t be followed, not by numbers that mattered in the long wrong. “What about the other people?” She watched Emoth as she went rigid, all of her old woman muscles tensing at once. 

“You mean the Grounders?” Her old wavering voice hardened. Laudna nodded. “Completely uncivilized barbarians. They do nothing but kill anything that moves. They’ve murdered so many of our people completely destroying the suits that allow us to walk the earth above.” The hardness to her voice had Laudna taking a cautionary step to the side, the younger man following her. 

“They did attack us shortly before you did.” Laudna figured she should sympathize. Get in on something they have in common. 

“I am so sorry we couldn’t get to you sooner.” Emoth relaxed. “At least you’re safe now, try as they might the Grounders have never been able to invade Mount Weather. Not with our defenses.” That sick pride was back. Just how many have fallen prey to her ‘defenses?’ Before Laudna could inquire about anything more Emoth turned to her guard sharply. “I trust you can take her the rest of the way?” 

“Yes ma’am.” The man spoke moving into Laudna’s space uncomfortably. She shifted away frowning as he followed her. With a small nod of her head Emoth was gone disappearing into a metal door that looked all the rest. 

It probably wasn’t, a normal door that is. She didn’t really get the chance to check it out. A soft but firm hand pressed on her shoulder giving her a toward shove forward. She glared over her shoulder near growling at the hand on her. It did little to phase the man walking with her, but he did remove himself taking just half a step away. 

-

Their walk was silent, only the clicking of boots to fill the crisp air. She hated how it all felt so, familiar. And yet so horribly foreign. She hated that she couldn’t shake the feeling of Delilah walking beside her, her visage just on the periphery of her vision. Every time she gave in and glanced her ghost disappeared. It was just her anxiously running her hands through her hair. That and her assigned escort quietly giving directions every now then. Delilah is in space. She might even be dead for all she really knows. 

Again a sick sense of loss filled her chest. She refused to give any more of her energy to this. Not now. Right now she had to keep her mind sharp and open.

“Stop.” Her escorts voice rumbled into her chest. He pointed to a door, different from all the rest. It was still metal, but far more used than all the others she’d passed so far. The handle was circular and shiny from use, it’s silvery metal reflecting a distorted version of herself. It made her smile softly seeing the weird proportions of her face looking back at her. “Go in there.” He instructed standing directly behind her.

She turned to him raising her eyebrows. “You want me to just-”

“Not everyone is your enemy. Can you just make life easy and-”

“Well forgive my apprehension!” She shouted sarcastic over his interruption. “I only woke up in a fucking underground bunker after getting kidnapped! Silly me for being cautious.” Her hands gestured around in the air wildly as she spoke. She didn’t have the space to even think about falling into her old obedient habits. It felt weird to defy the things she was told to do. It gave an odd sense of self empowerment taking control of her own agency for once in her life, even if the situation wasn’t ideal.

“Fine. Sit in those paper thin “clothes” then.” Thick meaty fingers quoted around clothes. He smugly smiled seeing her hesitation. “Well?” He raised one hand motioning for her to open the door. 

“And you’d differently in my situation?” She shot back to him turning the smooth metal handle. It stuck a little, time and use making it a little difficult to pull open. She made a point to keep the door slightly cracked feeling around the dark space for a source of light.

Yellowed light flickered to life revealing what the dark hid away. The room was smaller than the ones she’d seen so far. From floor to near ceiling were shelves lined with clothes. They were separated by color and size labeled with yellowing laminated paper. Her eyes widened in shock looking at the shear amount of clothes stacked before her. All of this was for her to choose from? She looked back to the guy still standing outside the room. He nodded then turned away from her pointedly keeping his gaze away. 

She’d never had this much choice before. The majority of clothes that had been on Whitestone had been passed down for generations. They were all dark and dreary and worn out. Everyone looked pretty much the same as one another   straight down to their miserable expressions. 

What is her sense of style? She wondered combing through yellows and greens holding them up then putting them back. Is she a short sleeve kind of girl? She rolled up the sleeves of her provided long sleeve and grimaced. Small scars peppered her skin, some far more pronounced than others. Planned tests or punishments for her outbursts. 

She always did run cold anyway, long sleeve it is. She easily shook herself away from spiraling thoughts pressing them into their own little box and shoved it far into the recesses of her mind. She had far more important things to think about. First and fore most, what color suits her best? Blue? Purple? She had no idea. Everything in her life had been so monochrome. 

“Ooo, Launda, you look so elegant today.” She mumbled to herself lifting and unfolding a dark maroon long sleeved blouse. Red and gold trimming ran down the front of the shirt and cuffed the sleeves snuggly to her arms just below the elbow. Curse her lanky form. She frowned a bit, raised scar tissue staring up at her. She so did love this shirt…. Fuck it. The scars aren’t going anywhere so why should she give up anything else? She’s given so much already. 

Then her eyes landed on layered grey and black lace. A skirt just too large for her waist billowed just above her ankles. She spun holding the fabric in place as she did so.

“You look just like a proper lady, Laudna.” She giggled ripping the bottom of black lace. She used the extra fabric as a make-shift belt holding the skirts tightly to her waist. “What shoes would fit such a lovely woman?” She scanned the wall of boots. Black, tan, and green boots. Black combats it is then. It took a few tries until she found ones that fit her. They weren’t a perfect match, the edges a little too wide and the tips a little too long. But by the gods did she fall in love them in an instant. She felt so beautiful standing in this closet looking down at her chosen outfit. She felt so… so… happy? Giddy? Excited? Whatever it was it felt strange, good and wonderful and so very strange. 

“You done talking to yourself yet?” And just like that the smile on her face fell. That’s right. She’s trapped in an underground military bunker. Her friends are missing, or maybe she was missing from them. Either way she had to find them, presumably they were in ‘The Banquet Hall.’ 

She didn’t dignify her escort with answer instead stuffing all the joy she was feeling into a box and shoved it away for when the dark got to be too much for her to handle. She took the time to steel her face, turn off any and all positive emotions from prying eyes. She looked to him, his light green eyes scanning over her once, twice, three times before her tore his gaze away, cheeks dusting a light pink. 

“Right then.” He cleared his throat instantly starting a practiced march off and away from her by two or three steps. 

—

She heard the chatter before she saw anything of note, everything in this damn place looked the damn same. She was usually so good at remembering directions and twists and turns. This place had her head spinning. 

“We’re here.” Her assigned guard waved his hand out in front of him snapping Laudna out of her thousand yard stare. “Food line starts over-”

She was already running. There were hundreds, maybe even a thousand or so people all bent over long, well kept wooden tables. Some were shouting in laughter, others politely eating engaging in in their own conversations. The combined noise was almost overwhelming. She hadn’t seen or heard this many people in so long, the incomprehensible droning nearly gave her a migraine. 

All of her attention however was on one boisterous, loud, crass masculine person standing on their chair. Ashton shouted something she couldn’t make out from the distance, and noise. It took a second to realize he was screaming her name through their hands cupped around his mouth to throw his voice. 

It felt like she as making zero progress sprinting even faster down the center aisle of too many wooden tables. Ashton stumbled down off the chair he’d climbed pushing past bodies meeting her half way. Their strong arms wrapped around her waist lifting her off the ground. Automatically her arms locked around his neck, her face burying into his shoulder. 

“It’s so good to fucking see you.” They set her down gently still holding her close. It felt like they were crushing her ribs. His hugs had always hurt a little bit, she was more than glad to this one bruise. “They wouldn’t let me see you. Told me you were on bed rest or some shit.” They finally stepped back giving Laudna space to breathe. 

Laudna took moment to look them over. They seemed relatively unscathed, a few minor cuts and light bruising but that was it. They had acquired a new jacket and pants punk in style and so very Ashton. She felt her heart hammering against her chest, they were okay. Her eyes moved to the table they’d been sat at. Letters, Chetney, all the other kids. They were okay.

“I did wake up rather unceremoniously.” She laughed lightly. “I thought I was back on Whitestone for a second, scared the shit out of me.” She laughed a little harder not sure what else to do. “I’m so glad you’re alright.” She hugged them tightly again listening to them grunt a bit. 

“Let’s get some food in you. You’re thinner than a fucking twig.” He spun on his heel leading her to their friends. She smiled brightly seeing a seat saved just for her between Chetney and Ashton.

“Laudna!” Letters shouted as their incredibly blue eyes found hers. “You’re back!” They reached over the much smaller old man between them and gave her an extremely tight, awkward hug. 

“Did they do anything to ya? I’ll kill ‘em all if they did.” Chetney side eyed every guard like person in the room. His hands flexed at his sides instinctually reaching for the wooden handles of his chisels. Laudna smiled going to answer his question, her words halted as Ashton spoke before her.

“They let you keep those? And I couldn’t keep my fucking hammer?” He glowered shoving food into his mouth. Laudna smiled sitting down in her saved seat. 

“It was hardly a hammer to begin with! They probably didn’t even know what it was when they scooped up your unconscious body!” Chetney chided dodging a wild swing from Ashton. 

“Guys! Let’s all calm down and talk about our feelings.” Letters interposed themselves looking between his friends. Laudna was content in just watching them, her stomach growling at her angrily. “Oh! I nearly forgot.” They slid a plate filled with meat, mashed potatoes, vegetables and a very moist looking slice of chocolate cake in front of her. “Figured you’d be too hungry wait in that line.” Letters pointed to the a very long and slow moving line of people coiling around the gigantic banquet hall.

Tears welled in her eyes faster than she could wipe them away. She couldn’t look at the three of her friends without absolute breaking. So instead she turned away from their bickering and pleading and instead quietly ate everything put in front of her.

-

It was impossible to keep track of time. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been shown around. Emoth taking it upon herself to show them all just how civilized they were. The hundred or so delinquents were lead from sector to sector then to their very own room filled with bunk beds in neat orderly rows. 

“I don’t trust this at all.” Launda gathered her friends sitting on a thin mattress. Letters sat beside her giving her a questioning look. “It’s all so… Perfect. And we were all sort of kidnapped.” She added in her own defense. Her hands moved as she spoke accentuating her point.

“Right but, I mean. We weren’t exactly doin’ great ourselves.” Letters spoke carefully. All eyes went to them, Laudna feeling an empty betrayal sitting in her chest.

“We didn’t really get the chance to try before-” Ashton started.

“Exactly! We were attacked!” All of them shushed their blue eyed friend. “All I’m saying is they could’ve killed us, real easy if I’m bein’ honest. And they didn’t.” He continued after the heads turned their way disappeared. 

“Still. I don’t like it.” Launda laid back on the bed staring up at the black metal rails holding another mattress above her. 

“I don’t either Laudna, but unless you can take out an army I think we’re stuck here.” Ashton caught her eye. She didn’t look at at them long choosing instead to stare straight up. That deep sense of betrayal only thickened where it sat on her heart. She felt silly for it, truly it’d only been a few days with them all together. They weren’t bound to one another because of a shared experience. Still though, it’d be nice to know someone was on her side. 

“If shit goes sideways we’ll figure it out. Let’s just enjoy a good nights sleep-” Chetney was starting a long winded good night.

“There’s no wood down here…” Laudna sang coyly rolling her eyes finding weathered old ones already staring at her. She watched about a hundred different emotions fly through Chetney’s face, his fingers twitching to grab his chisels. 

“Oh my gods… You’re right!” The old man looked around like a caged animal. 

“Calm the fuck down, we’ll get you some wood.” Ashton pushed off the metal bed frame smirking. “And I call top.” He hoisted himself into the bed above Launda. The mattress dripped through the metal rails holding it over her body. She hoped that they did’t end up falling on her. They’d probably break all of her bones.

-

There were quick good nights, Laudna choosing not to say anything more than one word to each of her friends. She laid on her back, fingers laced under her head cradling it carefully. 

Something wasn’t right. Nothing about this sat right with her. There was just- she didn’t even know. It was in Kade’s eyes. A darkness she hid well under fancy suits and mindful words. The way Emoth spoke resonated with a deep sense of familiarity. It was so similar to the way Chancellor Briarwood spoke to the masses. 

Convincing them all that all was well despite impending doom. Making sure order and calm stayed the way she liked it while working the crowds like puppets. 

Laudna turned onto her left side staring at the door. If they are truly as safe as Emoth Kade says they are then she should be able to wonder, right? She listened with her best ear. Snoring, gentle breaths, everyone was asleep. She hoped anyway as she made her way out of the room making as little sound as she could. 

-

She walked fro what felt like hours. Every turn, curve, twist all felt like they were leading her in circles. More than once she had to dive into a corner or pray there was an open and empty room somewhere for her to hide.

It was exhilarating stalking around like a phantom. Her heart raced and her palms began a clammy sweat as she slipped from place to place eventually coming to a hall nearly completely unlit. It was so drastically different from all the other places she’d invaded she did a double take. The shadows have always been where she thrived….

She glanced around waiting. No footsteps. No voices. Just a dark ominous tunnel definitely hiding a multitude of secrets. There was a bit of doubt clouding her mind. What if Letters is right? What if there is nothing to worry about and she breaks all the trust put into them for her own selfish gain. 

But what if she did find something horrible? If she did then there was still time to get everyone out. She didn’t know how and had zero inkling as to the true amount of fire power these people had but. She has to keep everyone safe. Everyone looked to her the second she was lead to them all. Even Andy seemed relieved to see her. They hadn’t actually talked to each other but she saw the way every single body that’d been on the drop ship relaxed at her presence.

She moved with the silence of the dead shifting from one shadow to the next. She was right about this tunnel being different. Deep terrible gauges and scratch marks lined the floors and walls. It looked like a beast with claws the size of Laudna had been drug here, imprisoned and held against it’s will. It was no wonder the lights here were few and far between. 

She heard the chatter before she saw anything of note. Voices spoke in a mumbling delirious speed. She couldn’t make out a single word of what they were saying, and she was pretty sure it wan’t her fault. The longer she listened, the closer she got it sounded like the voices were speaking gibberish.

As quietly as she had ever been in her life she peered at a lone door at the very end of the hidden tunnel. There was no window, the metallic outside rusted and absolutely ruined. A hundred thoughts ran through her mind all at once as her fingers grazed rusted metal. 

What the fuck do they have in here? No that’s not quite right is it? Who the fuck do they have in there? To her utter annoyance she was met with yet another locked door. She grumbled letting her head bang against the metal once, twice, three times. The pain she was met with was welcome, an odd reinforcement for her failures. 

What was she to do now? Go back to bed and forget about this place? There was little hope for her to even remember the way back, she’d gone so far in her exploration. She was here now. There had to be some other way…

Wind hit the back of her neck. She followed it grinning at a vent gently blowing fresh air. Well as fresh as fucking crisp could be. It blew directly into her face from slightly above her head. She stared at it thinking. 

Or maybe not thinking at all. She managed to pull the grate off after a very long while of struggling. It was rusted to the metal of the vent. As she peered in she was met with a path straight forward leading to a dimly lit room, like the vent lead from one side of the wall to the other. There was a secondary path leading to the left, another above her head. She glanced up holding back a small scream seeing a whirring dangerous fan just barely above her. It blew crisp air at her with so much force it made her eyes water.

“Don’t lose your head, Laudna. Literally. And figuratively.” She spoke to herself slowly crawling toward the dark room just beyond her. The voices she’d heard grew in volume. Yep. They were definitely not speaking common. She didn’t need to know what they were saying to pick up on devastated broken tones. 

Her eyes strained to pick up on anything in the room through the small hexagonal grate of the vent before her. It was dark, small white lights barely keeping to room walkable. She couldn’t see one side of the room or the other, there was far too much open space for her to see. It made her worry as she craned to see the distance between her and the floor, it probably wasn’t that high off the ground. Carefully she managed to shove her way through the vent. She gently maneuvered the cover into the space with her as she shuffled her body out. 

“Ow-shit.” Pain bloomed up her arm making her fingers tingle. She shook away the pins and needles staring in horror at the sights she was met with. 

Bodies. 

Bodies were strung upside down. Large clear tubes were shoved into their veins letting red drip drip drip out of them. She tried to see where the tubes went, but they disappeared somewhere underground. 

A deep gruff voice caught her attention. She felt it more than heard it, the voice on her left side. She spun around to see rows and rows of cages. This time she couldn’t stop the horrified noise from leaving her throat. There were people staring at her. Barely clothed and rail thin looking at her with eyes devoid of emotion or filled with a false sense of hope. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” The same reverberating voice spoke again. An older man stared at her gently. He was so large he barely fit into the cage he’d been shoved into. She was genuinely shocked to think a man this well built had been captured. The top of his head was bald, what hair he did have was long cascading down his back. His bottom canines were more like tusks protruding from his bottom lip, a white puffed chin beard sitting unkempt. 

“I-I…” Laudna found herself at a loss for words. 

“You have to get out of here.” The man reiterated a little harder. He looked resigned, and scared. Like he’d accepted his fate and didn’t want it bestowed on anyone else. 

“I can’t just leave everyone.” She didn’t believe herself either. She couldn’t leave her people, her friends here. 

“If they find you here they will kill you. You cannot save anyone if you are not breathing.” His gentle smile only turned softer. “I know a way out, it is dangerous. Do you think you can remember?” He glanced behind him at a voice speaking words Laudna didn’t understand. He turned back to her, a frown on his face as more voices spoke. They were arguing, it seemed. Tired voices quiet as they hissed and jabbed at one another. 

“Enough!” The older man raised his voice just enough to silence the dozens, hundreds? Of voices. Laudna watched him as he breathed, the bars of his small cage bending around him. “I can guide you, if you have the memory.” 

She considered it, for just a second. If she could get out then… Then what? She could just sneak a hundred or so kids out of the building? Kids who finally have what they think is a safe space to live? She can’t. She has to get herself out before she can save anyone else. She looked at the older man then around for something long, and thin…

She moved to the nearest hanging body hoping they were at least unconscious. She pulled out the tubes form their body taking large seven gauge needles from their unmoving body. It took a few tries, a few heart stopping seconds when she thought she’d broken the lock beyond repair. Eventually though she felt the lock click and the door swung open. 

The man groaned wiggling out of the cage, the metal groaning against his movements. She stepped back letting the very large man stand to his full height. He towered over her staring down at her with weary eyes. 

“Thank you.” He reach out a giant hand. “I am Ariks Eshteross. You can call me Eshteross.” 

“Launda, no last name.” Launda shook his hand. 

Suddenly the large metal door hiding the room away slammed open. Many pair of boots slammed against the stone ground racing towards the two of them. 

“Quickly.” Moving with a speed his age contrasted Estheross held her hand and began to B-line for an exit. Laudna didn’t have words too caught up in the fear of being killed, erased from her friends lives by the monsters of the mountain. She raced to keep up with her saviors speed listening to soldiers giving chase at their heels. 

She couldn’t even comprehend the amount of turns they took. She wasn’t even sure which direction she facing as they raced towards a growing dim light at the end of a pitch dark tunnel. Water was soaking through her shoes. The splashes of her footsteps growing louder the deeper the water got. The night sky was one of the most reliving sights she’d ever seen as they sprinted towards their freedom. 

She heard rushing water, or was it the blood racing in her ears. She couldn’t really tell. Not when her body was screaming at her to stop. Her lungs felt she’d been breathing in campfire smoke for hours without end. They stitched and burned the harder she pushed herself. Her legs were getting more and more wobbly with each step she slammed against eroded carved stone. 

She could see green. It was… so far below where they were running. They were the same trees that soared into the sky not a day before right? If they were that small then… How fucking high up are they?

“Jump.” 

“What?!” 

“Jump!” 

Her foot hit the edge of the carved tunnel. She pushed with all of her might watching as the night sky above reflected in deep clear water raced toward her falling body. In a few heart stopping seconds she watched her life flash before her eyes. 

And then everything was cold and wet.

Chapter Text

Her lungs burned. Her throat felt scorched. She couldn’t stop coughing throwing up what felt like gallons of water. In reality it probably wasn’t that much, but in the moment that’s what it felt like. She shot up from the ground soaked and freezing trying to get her bearings. 

She was next to a rushing river. The ground gave under her weight, it was grayish in the darkness around her. It sort of felt like what she imagined clay would feel like, though she wasn’t sure if it was just consistently soaked dirt. Not too far off from the open bank was a welcoming tree line. The forest was towering over her in a way that made her heart calm and race at the same time. There was so much that can, and probably will go wrong. But for now she was safe and breathing and so fucking cold.

“Thank the gods. I have not needed to do that in quite some time.” Estheross’s deep rumbling voice spoke gently from beside her. She looked to his giant form, water dripping from his thin clothing and thinning hair stuck to his head. He looked genuinely relieved to see her dry heaving and gasping for air. 

“Note-” She fell into a bought of coughing as her throat simmered with heat. “For the future. Can’t Swim.” Her eye moved to look at the mountain she’d jumped from. It was so small from where she sat. She jumped from a mountain into a river, and lived. She’s alive. She couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up from her stomach. Estheross looked at her confused following her eye line. She tried to explain, couldn’t get the words out as her body convulsed. She was shaking from the night time chill. Shaking from adrenaline. Shaking from delirious laughter.

“I… I do not understand. Are you alright?” The giant of a man put a caring hand on her shoulder, his strong grip stilling her whether he meant to or not. 

“Yeah. Yeah I’m- whoo.” A light breath shook out of her as she wiped teary eyes with her index fingers. “It’s just. We’re alive. We’re alive…” The second time was more for herself than anyone else. She looked down at her trembling hands then looked up towards the sky. She’s alive. She’s the one one Exandria looking up into beautiful star dappled darkness. She’s here. She’s strong. She’s everything she’s told she wasn’t. It felt so powerful. To prove her tormentor, her abuser wrong. She is strong. She is smart. She is everything without her. 

Laudna looked over to Estheross. He was staring at her with a bewildered look to his eyes. Like he couldn’t figure out what was going on with her, but was just relieved she’s conscious.

“We can stay here for the night, or we can travel. I do not know exactly where we are but I have a good idea.” Moving like a mountain Estheross slowly stood staring though the trees intently. “It should only take us two, maybe three days to find my home.” He held out his hand. It swallowed Laudna’s as she daintily accepted his help off the ground. She hadn’t even thought about where this gentle man might be from. Her entire spine went stiff. 

“Your home?” She inquired taking a very careful step away. If he felt it necessary he’d have her dead faster than she could blink, probably. Maybe she could out run him. For how long? He knows these woods better than she ever could. He’s lived here for his whole life. She has no chance at survival if he decides to harm her. 

“It is the largest city known on Exandria, at least this continent.” He spoke with such gentleness. His body language relaxed. Not even his jaw clenched as he stalked around gathering various logs and branches. Laudna physically relaxed under his soft faded green gaze. Did he just say city?

“Did you just say city?” She jumped in excitement, hands running through her soaked hair. She winced pulling at a tangle roughly. 

“Yes. It is beautiful. There is so much life there.” His head turned towards a vague direction. “I have… Missed it. I have been gone for so long.” There was such a heaviness to his words. Laudna reached out resting her hand on his arm. He looked to her surprised, her face a soft recognition of his pain. He let out a soft breath then smiled once more, his bottom teeth seeming to rise up closer to his nose. “Let’s get a fire going. The night can get quite cold.”

Laudna watched him intently, her eyes wide and unblinking. She watched how he set up the logs in a particular way, watched him shave dry bark with a sharp-ish rock. She leaned in as gathered dry bark and grass lit with the heat of Estheross rubbing a stick between his hands, the friction of it smoking against the log he was working. A low dark orange flame caught. It spread quickly through the meticulously set up branches, it’s heat working quickly to warm Laudna’s cold body. 

She moved closer to it sighing into it’s warmth. She could feel her damp clothes begin to slowly dry, even if the fire was kept on the smaller side for functionality and safety. As she sat her thoughts had time to run. What will the mountain dwellers tell her friends? Would they tell her she ran, died, left them without saying goodbye? Would her friends, her people, be safe until she found her way back, hopefully with the power to get them out before they’re killed…

“Estheross.” She didn’t look away from the fire. Her stomach churned in sick wondering. “Why were those people… Why were they…” She found it hard to get the words out. She felt as the air went tense around them. 

“The Mountain Men. They are weak to the outside air. They require our blood to stay healthy.” A shadow crossed his face where he loomed at her side. “So many have been lost to the Mountain. There has been no known survivors.” He glared over the fire. The flames danced in his eyes roiling like the anger he exuded from his shear presence.

“Emoth mentioned something about defenses?” Laudna was running her fingers through her hair again. She nervously flicked her eyes to his face not wanting to look for too long. Hopefully this wasn’t a terrible subject. It probably was but, there really isn’t a delicate way to bring it up. She shrunk away at his scoff. 

“They have control over a horrible fog. I do not know what is made of but it is extremely deadly. It get’s in the lungs and burns from the inside out.” His eyes unfocused. His facial muscles twitched. She knew that look. Felt those same micro-reactions whenever she experienced her own flashbacks. 

“I’m so sorry you’ve gone through all that.” Carefully she touched his forearm. He flinched but didn’t retaliate. Just looked at her softly then went back to staring at the fire.

“I am sorry you know this pain, someone so young shouldn’t have such a heavy heart.” Then silence fell on the both of them. It was dense, extremely tense, but comfortable. 

—

Laudna stared as the sharpened spear she threw missed another stationary rabbit. She couldn’t get herself to look at the gentle giant beside her, his sigh not unnoticed at the clattering of wood. 

It was the third missed spear she’d thrown in the half a day they’d been traveling. Estheross had been teaching her how to work the woods around her. He showed her how to make quick yet effective weapons. How to use the sun and it’s shadows to keep a path. He’d patiently taken far too much time to show her how to track prey. Even with all of his help she still felt completely useless. He was so skilled. So fast and quiet and just… so much more experienced. 

“It is alright. You will learn… Eventually.” He chuckled retrieving the spear. 

“I’m sorry. We didn’t really have a need for hunting in space.” She awkwardly joked back still feeling a sense of failure sitting in her chest. Even if she knew it was silly, she can’t be perfect at everything first try. Or third try. Still. She wished she could help more.

“What was it like?” The older man stood straight looking around. Then he turned whipping the comically small weapon from his grasp so fast it whistled as it soared. Laudna watched it pierce through a large animal, she didn’t know the name of this one. Large, maybe three feet long. Brown and scraggly with a long bushy tail. Was it supposed to be a squirrel? Maybe. It was hard to tell after years of radiation and evolution.

“I’m sorry?” She shook her head focusing on his question rather than the sucking sound of the spear being ripped from the animals body. Blood and gore soaking through its fur staining it a dark red. That same red marked the spear and ran down Estrous’ hands as he held it up letting the blood drip to the ground rhythmically.

“What was it like to live with the stars.” He clarified glancing to her as he wrapped his prey in the torn cloth of the shirt he’d been wearing the night before. “Would you like to try?” He paused seeing her curious eyes staring at his every movement.

“Oh! Sure…” She knelt down feeling so small compared to him. Physically and figuratively. “Living in space was.” She paused sticking her tongue out for a second trying to copy the way Estheross had wrapped the animal. “It’s not as nice as it sounds. There was a lot wrong with so much.” Frustration ebbed into her tone. Her fingers slipped undoing a large part of the cloth. 

“I see. Try to hold this.” His large hand lifted a lost corner. She huffed taking it. “Was the world beautiful from so far away?” His gentle voice did little to distract her from her project. Still her eyes raised to his and her face softened.

“It was, it is. Being on the actual planet feels so. Odd. It’s so much better than metal walls and dwindling air-” Her fingers came away from the cloth and it stayed tied. “Oh my gods!” She cheered grinning at her work. Pride swam though her at having learned something new, something helpful.

“Well done.” The giant of a man lifted the large animal, it dwarfed in his hands. “We will prepare this later. I will show you.” He began to lead the way and she followed listening to every bit of advice he gave.

—

It was ebbing on three days later. The two of them had spent the majority of their time moving. There wasn’t more than a handful of hours where they stopped. Laudna was exhausted. Her entire body felt like it was falling apart on her. Her knees were aching, her legs felt like she was walking on jelly. If it wasn’t for Estheross knowing how to hunt and prepare wild life quickly and efficiently she probably would’ve starved. 

“Laudna.” The old man stopped his movements. She ran into his muscular back stumbling away a few steps mumbling quick apologies. When his eyes met hers all she saw was shining excitement. Burning hope. It sparked a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. If he’s this happy then…. “Look.” He gently shifted Laudna to stand beside him. His large index finger pointed through the dwindling tree line.

Laudna felt her haggard breaths halt. Rising high into the sky were five jagged pillars. It was hard to make out extreme details from this distance, but she could still see houses. Buildings and railcars slowly moving between each pillar. Her mind was having a hard time trying to comprehend what the hell she was seeing. She saw it. She recognized it. She could not comprehend it. A real city. Not just one. Five. Five real interconnected cities. 

She looked to Estheross. He grinned back nearly breaking into a jog to get them there faster. She chased him, her body suddenly forgetting just how run down it was.

—

The moment they entered the city people gawked. She felt the same, staring at everything with wide eyes. There were so many shops. People dressed in dark clothes like the ones that’d attacked her and her friends, though they seemed more for fashion than function. She felt so overwhelmed with all the noise, which seemed to stop around their immediate vicinity. Anyone who saw Estheross froze, their eyes wide. 

Laudna looked to him. He stared straight forward, his gaze never wavering. She took the hint and just followed after him. Whoever he was here, he was certainly important. 

The longer they walked the more she clung to the man leading her. The people had begun to look from the giant of a man to her. Their gazes were sharp, jealous maybe? She wasn’t entirely sure but she knew they weren’t friendly. They glared making her feel as out numbered as she truly is, a whole city against just her? She doesn’t love those odds. 

“Do not worry. They will not do anything as long as I am here.” Estheross slyly laid his hand on the small of her back then it fall back to his side. She looked at him, hands working her hair something anxious, and gently smiled. She didn’t feel all that much better, but having his protection did steal some of the worry in her stomach. 

Then he stopped. Just outside of a very lavish looking building. It was tall soaring hundreds of feet into the air. It was nicer than a lot of the surrounding area, like it was meant for important people. Laudna was going to ask stopped by the older man fidgeting on his feet.

“When we enter, watch your tongue.” It wasn’t malicious. More like a very heavy warning. “You are going to meet our Commander.” He reached forward opening one of two doors to the buildings entrance. 

“Excuse me?” Laudna stayed with her guide, friend?, doing her best to ignore just how armed and armored everyone had suddenly become. This place was clearly not like the rest of the bustling city she’d seen. Swords, daggers, axes, shields. Everyone had something. And everyone looked absolutely slack jawed at the sight of Estheross. It was almost as if she didn’t exist, and she was far more than okay with that. 

—

If she thought she was going to collapse before, then she was surely going to die now. The two of them have been climbing stairs for an exaggerated forever. One after the other after the other after the other. On and on they seemed to stretch to the very heavens she had no real faith in. 

She didn’t have it in her to hide just how hard she was breathing. Sweat was beginning to bead in her hairline, her body hotter than she’s felt it in years. Her leg muscles were so tense she wouldn’t be surprised if they had be amputated by the end of this horrible upward journey. The joy she felt at seeing the very last landing was unlike any other. She fell to her knees panting taking a moment to catch her breath. 

“It is a wonder we got here so fast.” Estheross chuckled waiting for her to get back to her feet. 

“We didn’t exactly have thousands of stairs in space!” She argued pulling herself up with the great assistance of a sturdy wall. 

“You did not have anything it sounds.” He gave her a coy look. She scowled good naturedly but didn’t have an actual argument. He wasn’t wrong. They had exercise machines, mostly just treadmills. She herself though hadn’t been allowed to use them in two years. Hence her deteriorated state.

“You’re not entirely wrong.” Laudna gave a small grin. She could see the urgency riding though the older man. He was ready to see someone, the Commander. Whoever that is. “Ready when you are.” She did her best to keep her anxiety out of her voice, off of her face. If she was honest she’d rather throw herself down the many, many flights of stairs she took to get here. She doesn’t do well with authority figures.

“I have been ready since you set me free.” His gentle demeanor did little to push away her fears. “I promise no harm will befall you. You are here as my guest. That is a heavily weighted thing to be.” He held her shoulder again, his eyes never leaving the very ornate double doors closing off them from whatever, who, ever laid behind them. 

She felt her friend(?) hesitate. Let his fingers grip harder to her shoulder seemingly without his realizing. He looked nervously at the doors not making any sort of step forward. 

“Whoever you’re nervous about will probably just be glad to see you again.” Lauren offered catching faded green eyes. The older man looked at her and his lips turned upward as he sighed gently, like he’d been caught.

“You are.” He paused thinking, his bottom teeth pushing just slightly upward. “Very good at reading people.” He settled on those words. Then he took a deep breath and moved to the double doors. 

Laudna felt her insides turn into knots. Estheross promised her safety. Promised no harm will befall her. Still, she can’t help but feel like she is going to die. It’s such a common feeling it’s almost comforting. Almost. The fear of leaving her friends on this mortal coil without them knowing what happened to her tipped the scales in favor of anxiety. 

The doors opened with a whoosh of air. It gently blew her hair backwards while gently pulling her away from her mind, even if only for a second. She fell in step with her guide, a practice they’d unconsciously picked up over the last few days. 

Just beyond the doors was a large room. It was on the darker side, still lit well enough to navigate and read without hinderance. Curtains lined the walls hanging loosely here and there. The majority of them were dull colors and for decoration more than use, all shear fabrics and see through. There were shelves lined with books and messy scrolls of paper along the walls. Just off the center of the room closer to the right side was a large table. A large map with what looked like dolls, or action figures laid across the very nice looking… Was that walnut? Mahogany? Whatever it was it was smooth, sleek, varnished. Chetney would lose his mind if he saw this table. 

As Laudna crossed the threshold just behind Estheross she got a much better view of the rest of the room. On the far left side framed by hung dark lace curtains sat a throne. It’s seat was the same wood as the table now behind Laudna. The back of the throne was a fan made of swords. It should be the most intimidating thing she’d ever seen. And it would’ve been, if it wasn’t for the woman sitting with a rigid posture and near unreadable expression. 

She had long waved purple hair. Her eyes were a curious shade of lavender. They were dark. Hard. Around those insanely intense eyes was black war paint, the edges winged in jagged lines at the corners. It dragged down her cheekbones in messy jagged meticulous lines, it looked like lightning the longer Laudna studied it. The woman exuded power. She didn’t have to say a single word, utter a single breath and she held the world at her finger tips. 

She was dressed in different clothes from the rest of the people Laudna’s seen so far. She wore a blue sheer dress under an armored looking weathered white vest. Her leather boots rose over her knee, her skin exposed up until her shorts covered it once again. Well. On one side, her skin was exposed. On the other was a leather thigh holster, in it a dangerous looking dagger. The most interesting thing though were the deep lightning like scars running up her arms. 

Standing behind and to the left the lavender woman was a very tall woman. Her hair was a soft sea foam green. Her eyes were familiar, goat like and glowing in the dim light. She wore an armored dress, a sleek sickle tucked into belts around her waist. 

At the purple haired woman’s right was a very short man. Brown hair and tired green eyes. He wore far more armor than anyone else in the room. A sword hilt protruded diagonally over his shoulder, a shield on his arm ready.

Laudna watched the main woman intently. Watched her face when her lavender eyes landed on Estheross. It was almost entirely missable, the way her eyes went soft for just a second. Though her facial muscles remained careful and unmovable. A stone statue of a woman.

“Estheross.” The woman spoke with an intoxicating drawl. She gave a single nod of her head to him, the older man returning it. Then she looked directly to Laudna. It felt like a wave of force hit her fragile chest. Those lavender eyes were so heavy, their weight as near physical as it could be.

“This is-” Estheross started cut off in an instant. 

“I know who this is.” Her tone was biting. Deadly in a way that had Laudna instinctually wanting to cower. She didn’t. She stayed where she was taking on the heaviness of those eyes with a practiced ease. “You are the one who burned three hundred of my people alive.” The woman growled. 

“And you’re the one who sent them to attack?” Laudna asked with no emotion one way or the other. She didn’t accuse. Didn’t put any real power to her words and yet everyone in the room went completely still. Estheross whipped to face her, his face paling by the second. 

The woman scoffed. “It would do you good to keep your tongue still.” She leaned forward in her seat. If it was possible her already incredibly dense aura turned sharper. 

Laudna isn’t an idiot. She knows when and when not to push. Knows what could happen to her if she does push when she shouldn’t. She remained quiet. Not persuaded or pushed back, just waiting for her to keep talking. 

“Heda.” All eyes moved to Estheross. The same shock that stilled the room hit again. Laudna wondered how many people had ever dared to talk back, wondered had many had been maimed, or worse. “Launda Nolastname saved my life. She got me out of the mountain.” Laudna looked at her friend(?). What did he just call her?

“What?” ‘Heda’ spoke slow and careful. “Explain, Laudna Nolastname.” She looked directly at Laudna. 

“Well, first my name is just Laudna.” She clarified. “I have no last name.” She added into a tense silence. 

“My mistake.” A light blush dusted Estheross’ cheeks. She opened her mouth to reassure him, that she should’ve been more clear.

“Enough.” ‘Heda’ shouted. She moved so quickly Laudna registered the noise of metal sinking into wood before she saw the dagger sunk into the handle of the throne. “You will explain or I will leave your body as a warning for your people.” Not the worst threat she’s received in her time.

Laudna couldn’t help but smile. “I appreciate the warning.” She went into the nitty gritty. Explained what she thought was important and let Estheross fill in things she didn’t know. As she talked she watched the woman watch her. They were reading each other. Studying the other carefully. Much to Laudna’s frustration she thinks this point goes to her opponent. 

“I would really love to avoid conflict between us. They have both of our people trapped in that mountain.” Laudna never broke sharp eye contact. 

“And you are one. What aid could you lend all alone?” The purple haired power house finally broke her stoned face. She smirked at Laudna clearly feeling far above her. And she is. She holds far more power than Laudna ever could.

“Exactly as you just said. I am one. There’s strategy in being a ghost.” Laudna’s heart was pounding. Her finger nails were ready to burst through the skin of her clammy palms. Truly, she has no idea on how to save her friends, her people. If she enters that mountain she’ll be killed in seconds. If she’s seen going to the mountain they’ll release that fog Estheross warned her about. But if boosting her worth kept her tongue, and soul, in place then boost she will. Far from the first time she’s had to.

She survived so much by pretending to be more than she is. She pretended the tests were nothing, that the pain they caused was child’s play. She pretended that her mind was still intact after days, months, years of sitting alone in her cell with only her thoughts and charcoals. She can pretend to be competent enough. It’s easy to listen and gather enough information for pretending. Fake unconsciousness, fake a thousand yard stare, or just sit quietly and hope to remain forgotten. 

“I will consider it. You will save me the expense of one of my own at the very least.” The woman glared. Her eyes were so bitter. They held nothing but contempt for Laudna. Not an unfamiliar sight. 

“I’ll help in anyway I can.” The woman of the stars smiled. Gentle and calculated. It did nothing to move the woman with electric eyes. 

“Fearne. Escort her. Stay with her. I will call when I am ready.” Without breaking eye contact the power house spoke. Laudna watched as the tall sea foam haired woman let out a soft noise of assurance. 

Fearne, was nothing but beautiful. All curves and lithe swaying movements. She smiled a gentle thing coming up to Laudna’s side. “Don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you~” She spoke with a sultry lull to her words knocking Laudna off her kilter entirely. She shot a look to Esthross. He nodded his assurances watching her as she was lead out of the Commander’s room. She chanced a look over her shoulder hearing the ornate double doors closing. 

The woman flew from her throne wrapping her arms around the older mans neck. Estheross bent down and lifted her from the ground holding her in shaking arms, her face burying into his shoulder.

Laudna smiled then looked up to the beauty at her side. Fearne looked back holding a finger over her lips shushing quietly.

Chapter Text

Stone. Stone. Stone. Stone. No matter how hard, or how long Laudna watched. No. Desperately traced and marked and tried to search for some sort of etching in the Commanders stone exterior there was nothing. 

Lavender hair is braided tightly to the powerful woman’s temple. The braids are pulled into hair left undone spilling over to the opposite side letting lavender cascade down her shoulder. Her face was smooth as she stared at the map laid out on her large battle table. Her hands, partially covered in leather riding gloves, never wavered, never shook, never made any notation that wasn’t incredibly calculated. Those impossibly deep, hard, tired, blank lavenders eyes flicked up from the little wooden forests finding deep, dark, curiously annoyed eyes for the umpteenth time. 

They stared in a way that made Laudna absently grab at the bottom of the table, her nails biting into the wood until it intentionally hurt. Those purple eyes never wavered as they stared at her, the room quiet where The Commander had stopped speaking.

It felt like the woman called ‘Heda’ was boring into her head. Like she was moving past the physical boundaries of wood and stone and skin and bones and was directly sifting though her thoughts. Then they looked away and a leather clad finger thunked a spot on the map a few times expectantly, silently telling her to pay attention. 

The moment hadn’t been more than a few seconds. Certainly not long enough for anyone to think anything of it, other than Laura herself who felt her cheeks flaring hot. It had felt like eternity under that heavy gaze. There was so much hidden away, so much kept behind a wall of smooth, yet textured stone armor. 

Another series of fingertip hitting the table. Another much quicker glance from lavender eyes before they darted back to the map. Laudna held onto the visage of the Commander for as long as she could then dipped her gaze to the table. 

“Pay attention.” ‘Heda’ sternly spoke. Laudna flushed a deeper shade. Clearly the niceties of thunking weren’t enough, no. Her unfocused hubris just had to be brought to everyone’s attention. She caught several pairs of eyes flicking to her then back to the table. Some were pitying, some were amused. Most didn’t seem to care. Which should’ve been comforting, but it made her stomach twist horribly and terribly hard. Her finger tips were aching from the force of them digging into table. 

“This is where we enter. It is far more dangerous than the entrance here.” The finger that had been thudding hard pointed to an ‘X’. Small writing under it said ‘disposal tunnel.’ It glided just above the paper stopping on a circle marked ‘main entrance.’ Laudna nodded once, even if eyes weren’t on her she knew the Commander saw just as she saw everything else, eyes never wavering from their home on the tanned paper beneath them. 

“Why is it more dangerous?” Laudna barely asked. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was supposed to talk, others had so. It wasn’t a total ‘I’m going to kill you bleh bleh.’ 

Lavender lifted from the map. Laudna held in an embarrassing hitch to her breath hiding it well. ‘Heda’, or whatever her name is, had a look so deadly and so so broken for the briefest of seconds. Then it was gone, her armored shoulders tensing even as she released a long held breath.

“These tunnels are used to disregard the dead.” The Commander spoke and the world stopped. The air physically stilled making it hard to breath through the intensity of the utter anger filling the room. Laudna watched her pulling out her best neutral face despite how enraptured she was. 

Stone cracked revealing parts of the young woman underneath. Small parts of her reacted before The Commander could take over and hide her away again. It was just the smallest things, barely even perceptible. The tightening of lavender eyebrows, her jaw becoming so horribly hard Laudna was worried she was going to break her teeth. The Commander took a breath in then let it out, the cracks filling in hiding away the human parts of her. 

“That is how we know of their doings to our people.” The powerful woman closed the hand she had off the table into a tightly clenched fist. Laudna looked at her and saw anguish, even if she was trying to hide it. It was erased from her features, her face smooth. Her eyes. Those darkened lavender eyes, stormed. 

“I’m truly sorry.” Laudna spoke softly. She stopped digging her nails into the table instead placing them on the thin exposed edge of dark wood.

“We,” The Commander pointed from herself then to the woman of the stars standing across from her. She breezed past the condolences offered to her far too practiced. “,Will enter from here.” She then pointed to Orym, the small man, then to Fearne, then to a new very tall man called Dorian. He was mostly a musician, his life of fighting more of a ‘on need’ basis. At least that’s what he told Laudna in the brief moment they had to introduce themselves.

Not that any of that mattered. All Laudna could focus on was the ‘we.’ What did she mean by ‘we?’ Like, just them? Like just the two of them? Only two of them were going to enter Mount Weather? Her eyes were getting dry from how large they’d become, her eye lids surely growing six packs from the strain. 

“You three will distract here.” A leather finger pointed to a spot near the main entrance. “You will be accompanied by twenty. They will lie in wait in the trees.” ‘Heda’ explained like she was reading off a grocery list, not human lives. Dark eyes stared at her dimly still tripping over ‘we.’ “Everyone get your things, have a large meal, and say your goodbyes. We leave when the sun crests tomorrow.” Standing to her full height The Commander rested her clenched fist on the pummel of her dagger, the other waving a wave of dismissal. 

Laudna turned to follow stopped by a quick, “Where are you going?” From behind her. She turned sharply to see ‘Heda’ staring at her like she was stupid. Eyebrow raised and face so uncharacteristically animated. “You are to stay in my eye sight, Skywoman.” The last word felt like a curse leaving The Commander’s mouth. 

Laudna guffawed at her audacity. “Excuse you?” Absently she to rose up to her fullest height. Even across a large table she still towered of the other woman. 

“Stay where I can see you. I have no trust in you.” ‘Heda’ stepped around the table coming to stand in front of her. “Do not look so hurt, do you trust me?” She was back to her untelling self, all signs of human disappearing. 

Laudna first tried not to balk at how easily this woman tore her apart and read her every emotion, something she’s used to doing to other people. Then she relented a soft smile. 

“No. I don’t.” She admits fidgeting where she stands. It get’s her something like a huff of a laugh, like dust falling off of stone, and she thinks that’s fine for now. She doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t press any buttons as she follows closely behind The Commander. 

——

Hours later Laudna finds her self sat at a bonfire. No, not sitting. She didn’t choose to sit the shorter stump beside The Commander. She was physically moved and sat down by inexplicably hot, leather clad palms. Hardened lavender eyes told her to stay and she’d lost the will to argue far earlier in the day. 

So here she sat. Knees raised almost to her chest from her sheer height, elbows resting unceremoniously on her joints and her fingers twisted into her hair. Her eyes lazily trail the hundreds of Grounders dancing and singing. Some of them sang in the same language she heard in the Mountain, others sang in that same overly formal common she’d been hearing round the city. Mostly though her eyes kept trailing back to the woman at her side. 

She had redone her hair, well. Orym and Fearne had helped too while Laudna sat on the sidelines watching, eyes never daring to stray from deft hands. The top of lavender hair raised up just enough over smoothed back sides. A few smaller braids had been made decorating the sides and back of the cascading purple, the ends tickling just under her shoulder blades.

She’d changed into a much more casual looking outfit, Feanre and Orym with her on the outside of the room. She wore a light denim looking blouse leaving the first two buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up past her elbows putting her scars on full display. She’d changed into lighter tanned pants and shorter leather boots, her thigh holster seemed a bit out of place over the tanner material.

Laudna observed her every slight movement. The way her eyes rolled at some of the larger folk getting in each others faces. They way she kept her head leaned on one of her palms, the corners of her eyes squinting at the louder noises of the crowd. She watched unoccupied fingers grip, slide, feel the smooth worked handle of her dagger, the same one she’d attacked her throne with. It looked almost like a calming motion. A constant one two three four taps of her first finger on the pommel then all five wrap around the handle and slide off to repeat from the beginning. 

She watches ‘Heda’ grip her dagger tightly, corners of her eyes flinching before her lazy gazing of the crowd focuses straight forward. It seemed every voice around them began to cheer loudly in unison at the appearance of a very tall man being ushered towards the bonfire by the beautiful Fearne.

“I do not- Fearne! There are so many-” The man, or Dorian now that he’s closer, stuttered out now close enough for Laudna to hear. He was barely taller than Fearne and dressed in far fancier clothes than the people round them. His soft blue shirt billowed around him, the color seeming to be more faded than intentionally pastel. His pants were black and held up by an expensive looking belt, the buckle shining gold. 

In his hands he held a varnished dark wooden instrument. A lute? It’s hard to tell never having seen one in real life. Only faded away pictures and old recorded tapes with labels barely legible. 

“Oh come on Dorian. You cannot back away now!” Fearne’s eyes glint terribly mischievous. “The crowd loves you!” She shouts doing a small three sixty spin. “Do you want to hear him play?” Before she even finishes the crowd is whooping, finger whistling, and screaming their need for his music. 

Sweat glistens off of Dorians light brown skin, his face flushing from the attention. Laudna smiles to herself then glances over to find the Commander’s face twisted into a horrible grimace. It’s so brief she wonders if she saw it at all, but there’s lingering pain behind those steeled eyes as they look at her. 

If time could freeze she’s sure it would have. The intensity at which lavender bores into her head silently wondering how much she saw. Her own darker eyes stare back, carefully she gives the slightest, smallest shake of her head. 

Tightly pressed lips open to say something probably threatening. Her words are cut by the strum of what sounds like an ‘A’ note. They stare at each other for another few strums before Dorian starts to sing. 

She gives her unwilling escort a genuine smile, ducks her gaze conceding the match then looks back to the center of the bonfire. He’s glowing where he stands. The raging orange-yellow flame seemed to calm at his mere presence, the rowdy crowd following suit. 

The gentleness of his voice radiated in waves. One after the other his song of reverie and battle and loss felt more like poetry than the sorrowful ballad it was supposed to be. 

“Be it noose, or steel, or fire, I will go through it all to hold you once more. To find where you were taken from me to get you back, the greatest torture is your loss. The greatest death your absence. Do not worry my love, for this is my promise to you.” He sings the words with tears streaming from his crystalline blue eyes, the fire glinting making them look like diamonds as they crashes to the ground. Sniffles echo through the dozens of bodies gathered around the fire. Hands wipe at eyes at varying speeds, some trying to seem far more unaffected than others. 

Laudna doesn’t bother to hide herself. She doesn’t feel the need to side eyeing the woman beside her, tears gathered in gorgeous, weathered, lavender eyes. She looks away unable to bare another staring match. 

The song finishes and silence follows. Everything but the crackling of embering wood had gone entirely still, the aftershocks of Dorian’s voice roiling through every body in attendance. The musician doesn’t flounder. He stays entirely calm then raises his lute a little closer to his chest. 

“How about something a little more.” He pauses for a dramatic second strumming a loud G chord. “Upbeat?” Deftly, at such a fast pace his fingers seems to blur his next songs starts. People race to their feet, grab their own instruments and join the cleared circle around the bonfire resuming their earlier celebrations. 

She hears the softest little laugh. Her head whips to see a smile etched into the stone of The Commander. That smile remains even as their eyes catch and linger. 

“He has always been one for dramatics.” ‘Heda’ falls back into her careful guard. 

“And you aren’t?” Laudna tries her luck. If anything she will receive no response, the most common thing from her earlier tryings. Instead she get’s an eyebrow raise which she’s come to learn means either ‘explain’ or ‘shut the fuck immediately.’ This one looks safe enough. “I’ll put your head on a pike rah rah rah” She lowers her voice gruffing it out to an extreme as she mocks the woman before her. 

The Commander laughs a light little thing. “Is that what I sound like?” Her fingers tap tap tap tap then hold tight to the handle, they don’t let go. Laudna sees them only out of the corner of her eye making notes of charcoal on the white expanse of her brain. 

“You can, sometimes.” She copies the smallness of the other woman’s smile. It seems to have an effect. Which one she can’t decipher from the all too calculated etching on a once smooth face. 

“Only sometimes?” ‘Heda’ winces again. Its just the edges of her eyes crinkling at the music and crowd screaming into the night, but it’s enough to notice. 

“Sometimes.” Laudna agrees frowning at the practiced disappearance of emotion. She catches the way The Commander clocks her, her eyes dancing from her own to scan her face then flick back to stare. “Others you’re all like ‘ooh I’m speaking such fancy words and strategizing all fancily on my fancy battle map.’” She mocks the Grounder Leader again, this time in a high pitched voice fluctuating her words absently. 

The ghost of a smile returns. “So when I am threatening I speak lower, but when I am talking battle I raise my tone?” Lavender turns curious where they stare unblinking. She’s trying to dissect Laudna’s meaning, even if there wasn’t an initial one to really dive into. She was only trying to make the Leader laugh. But this could be a fun little game for her to play. 

“I’m not really sure. I’ve only been around you for a fraction of time.” Laudna unconsciously leans towards the Grounder Leader. Her smile turns to a grin. ‘Heda’ seemed more on the confused side of things, eye brows barely slinking towards each other. She opens her mouth to say something witty, or joking. Whatever it was disappeared as a shadow grew stretching towards them. 

“Heda.” Fearne flashes a welcoming grin. It does little to turn away the instant annoyance on Laudna’s face. The instant bit of rage in her stomach from her interruption. “If I remember correctly…” She trails looking at ‘Heda’ and only ‘Heda.’ “Someone still owes me a dance from the last, what is it now?” One of her fingers taps her plump bottom lip, her goat-ish eyes to the stars like she’s trying to recall something. 

She receives a deep, deep sigh. “Three, Fearne.” The Commander wears more defeat on her face than anything else from the entire day. 

“Oh, really? I thought it was two- never mind. The last three pre-battle fires, Heda.” Fearne moves directly into The Commander’s space and holds out a waiting hand. 

Laudna looks between the two of them. She sees the eagerness in the tallest of them, her pastel green dress cinched at the waist to accentuate her breasts. There’s a hope in her eyes that goes past just wanting to dance with a friend, or someone she’s known for a long time. It’s obvious in the way the hand on her side clenches fabric like it’s the only line she has to this life. 

‘Heda’ doesn’t reflect her feelings at all. She’s stoic. Her spine is far too straight and her fingers have began to grip her dagger so tightly they’re shaking. She’s hesitating, slight movements forward then back then forwards again. Like she wants to say yes, but. Something holds her back the Laudna can’t discern. Maybe she know’s how Fearne feels and doesn’t want to hurt her. Maybe she’s afraid to be human in front of her people. Maybe she doesn’t want Laudna to see her vulnerable. 

“I promise I’ll stay right here.” The woman of the sky speaks gently when both of the woman grace at her before looking back at each other. If she is a possibility in this very awkward few seconds she doesn’t want to be. It’s better for her to make as many friends as possible, stealing the Commander’s dance feels like a sure way to make enemies. “If I move I’ll let you do whatever horrible thing you can think of, I promise.” She adds at a grateful look form Fearne and hesitation from The Commander. It’s deeper than just worrying about Laudna, it’s far deeper in her eyes for it to be just that. Again the corners raise and wrinkle, the noise rising. 

“She promises, Heda. Now come on! Live a little!” Feanre pushes her already outstretched hand further into her friends face. Lavender hair bounces, it’s owner moving back like she’d been stuck. The movement does little to phase Fearne, it seems like this has happened more than once. 

And then the tension between all three of them breaks. “Fine. Just once dance, unders-” The utter nervousness the Leader exudes is astounding. She’s yanked to her feet and she stumbles a steps before relenting her free will to her dance partner. 

“Hello, Orym.” Laudna says staring straight forward. She felt his presence the moment he’d stepped behind her. 

“Maybe you will make it out of that mountain.” Is the shorter man’s response. 

“Wouldn’t that be a surprise to us both.” She never looks away from the two woman now the center of all the attention. Dorian is playing an up beat folk-ish song. Something about a lass and her secret affair lover or something. His angelic voice can’t seems to quite reach her ears despite him being no further than her was for his other songs. Instead she focuses on the way Fearne is smiling holding both of ‘Heda’s’ gloved hands and spins her around. Fearne is in full control of the movements and flow pushing apart then pulling back together. 

“You do not think you will survive?” Orym’s voice cuts into the reverie of it all. She doesn’t look away, half a word out of her mouth before he starts again. “Then why go at all? If you’re so sure you will die.” It sounds like he’s trying to goad her, or maybe get a rise out of her. She doesn’t look away from swirling pastel green and whirling Lavender. She doesn’t react to the familiar bite of steel against her ribs, guesses it’s a small knife from the size of the point and the lack of pressure behind the threat. 

“Who else is going to save my friends?” Even as her heart pounds so loud she’s sure the little man can hear she forces herself to be calm. Forces her eyes to drift to dull green eyes at the side of her head. Orym grits his teeth reading her. He’s looking for a falsehood he’s just not going to find. Then he huffs and moves at a dizzying speed back to where he was standing in the first place. 

Laudna let’s out a shaky breath. Counting from one ten then back. Her gaze finds twirling color and she counts their steps, the time of the music, the number of spins Fearne subjects her Leader to. How neither of them has thrown up is beyond comprehension. 

She sits with her frenzied heart and squeezes her eyes. She moves one of her hands into the side of her hair with it’s streak of white and pulls until it hurt hurt hurts so badly it’s all she can get herself to realize. Life is pain, but meant she was alive. 

Footsteps approach. Heavy, light, insanely quiet. Her eyelids lift. The woman of purple slumps into the chair besides her looking as stoic as ever, though her hair was disheveled and out of place. Laudna refuses to look longer than a second before moving her eyes back forward and closing them once again. 

——

By the next morning it felt like the night before was a dream. She and The Commander have been walking in silence for hours through much thicker and much more dangerous woods than she and Estheross had. 

The woman of lavender refused to speak. Her face was set and her movements never faltered. Not even as Laudna tripped, or fell, or needed a second to breathe. She was a storming statue willing the forest to move out of her way, bend to her need. 

It seemed like she conjured the environment to give her whatever she wanted. She needed to refill her water skin? A river would start to roar where silence had once been. The dense forest floor got to be too much of a hassle? The brush would clear in no less than a few seconds. 

Laudna watched her fully looking for bits of sparkling magic or some sort of power the Grounders, or maybe just ‘Heda’ possessed. It was impossible, even if someone managed to memorize an entire forest there was no way it would remain unchanged. Not to the degree of confidence at which they were moving. 

“I-I need-” Laudna’s thighs were burning. Every step forward felt like she was moving through acidic molasses, or something more sciencey. She didn’t have the brain space to try and figure it out, her lungs stitching sending her to the ground on all fours. “A second.” She stays on the ground violently aware of the shadow looming over her. 

“You’ve taken many seconds.” Voice low and accent thickening The Commander spoke directly over Laudna’s head. “Do you not care about your people?” She asks with the bite of a thousand wolves. 

Laudna’s head snaps up. “Ex-fucking-scuse you?” She pushes back onto her haunches, legs still far too trembly to try and stand. “How dare you insinuate-” 

“Then why sit there while they suffer?” The towering woman leans back on one foot, her hand on her side weapon. “The longer you take the more will die.” Her words are blank as they leave her mouth.

Laudna loses her sense of survival. She races to her feet getting straight into the shorter woman’s face. “You think I don’t know that?” She doesn’t stop the steel coming to rest at her throat. “I have’t been able to stop thinking about how I left them. How all of their pain and suffering is my fault!” She steps forward again sending the bewildered Commander back two steps. “I’m trying my damned hardest to get back to them. I didn’t see you storming the Mountain with your fucking army!” Something shifts between them. The entire forest reacted in kind, the ambiance of birds and insects ceasing.

‘Heda’ moves at an inhuman speed. Her entire body weight crashes into Laudna’s chest forcing her off of her feet. “Agh!” She breathes out a horribly pained airless grunt. The woman of Lavender has one knee pressed into her chest, one hand pinning one of her wrists to the ground, and the other holding her favored weapon under her chin forcing their eyes together. Laudna grasps her scarred wrist unable to do anything but breathe against the overwhelming weight on her body. 

“You insolent little wench.” ‘Heda’ growls out leaning down hard. It takes everything not to let out a gut wrenching cry at pain shooting through crushed ribs. “You cannot comprehend the loss I have been through.” The stone has crumbled away to rage, her eyes flashing a very dangerous red. 

It might’ve been just a trick of her mind, the red gone in the blink of an eye. Still. Laudna found herself somewhere between paralyzing fear and defiant flame licking up from the center of her very being. She couldn’t look away from the fury above her, her grip on raised scar lines tightening. Her voice was caught, the lack of breath she was allowed to take in stunting her ability to speak properly. 

‘Heda’ opens her mouth, half a sound leaving her before her head whips up. A low rumbling click fills the quiet of the forest. It’s horrible. It vibrated the very marrow in Laudna’s body, shakes the ground beneath her. She winces against it. Hisses as the woman about to kill her dives off of her and drags her to her feet. 

“What the fuck-” She forgets about the pain her legs are in, ignores how they tremble as they begin to sprint through the forest. ‘Heda’ barely gives her glance. 

“Keep running.” Her face is forward, but Laudna can hear the slightest tremble in her words. Laudna does’t argue. Branches are snapping behind her. It sounds like some of the smaller, less healthy trees are being torn from the ground as thunderous foot steps slam into the dirt. 

Part of her, the dumb curious part, wants to chance a look back. The other much smarter part knew it would slow her down. She’s smart. Smart enough, anyway. She kept her eyes focused on the blur of color in front of her following her every quick step and doing her best to pivot without absolutely eating shit. 

How any one person can move like they’re made of wind is fascinating, distracting. She almost run face first into a tall dark oak looking tree. She clipped her shoulder stumbling. 

A strong palm hits the center of her chest righting her. “Careful.” The Commander glares, her words a threat as they continue. Laudna stares at her feeling nothing but confusion dancing through her mind. 

And then a long, thick shadow soars over her head. Deafeningly loud a sickly looking rotted tree slams into the ground in front of them cutting off their initial path towards what she can now make out through the dark of the forest is a patch of rocky hills. Plenty of places for them to hide, it seems. Heda calls and Heda receives. 

The woman of pastels doesn’t stop her racing towards the decently sized trunk. Her anxious gaze hits dark panicked eyes and they understand in an instant. Up and over. If it’s a problem for them it’s a problem for what the fuck is chasing them.

Laudna feels dread sinking deep into her soul. There’s no way she’s making it over. Strength has never been her strong suit, even before she’d become Delilah’s favorite pass time. Letting her body crash against the greying wood she pressed her back to the scratchy bark finally getting a look at the beast on their scent. 

It was horrific, to the say the least. It’s face was a near perfect circle with terrible large, circular, empty eye sockets. It’s mouth took up the entire bottom half of it’s face, teeth needle like and sharp. It stretched all the way up to the bottoms of it’s impossibly long pointed ears. 

She watched as it’s horrifyingly long and thin limbs dragged behind it, hands touching the ground despite its towering height. It had to be at least ten to twelve feet tall as it ducked under lower branches. 

“Do you have a death wish?” The Commander’s low southern accent pulled Laudna’s gaze away from the monster tearing towards them. “Gods above, get fucking moving!” Her riding gloves hands push against Laudna’s body helping her climb up decaying bark, some of it crumbling under her feeble weight. 

She hits the ground hard, her body begging her to stay down even as she scrambles to her feet. The sounds of destruction are almost ear shattering. They’re getting closer and closer and she turns around to check on the woman leading her. Her heart sinks. 

Dirt and dust fly into the air like an explosion. It sends The Commander careening off the trunk and to the ground. If she cried out in pain it was swallowed away by the monster ripping it’s way through the forest. 

Laudna watched her ankle twist. Watched her collapse under her own weight. Blood rushed in her ears as her body froze. Her mind said run. Get away. Live. Run run run run.

She ran straight towards the woman of lavender grabbing her scarred arm over her bony shoulders. She wrapped her arm around the small of her back and dragged the both of them through the narrow path between rocky hills. 

The hills were near sheer from ground to their rounded jagged tops. Different colored sediment and minerals swirled together in bands across the length of the entire natural juts of earth. It would’ve been pretty if there had been anytime to actually take in the scenery. But her eyes were darting from side to side searching. 

“Up, to the left.” Strained ‘Heda’ nods her head beginning to take the lead. Laudna’s eyes dart to where she’s already looked what felt like a hundred times. A small slit in the stone barely big enough for a person to squeeze through seemingly appeared from thin air, or maybe she’d just missed it from her desperate gazing. 

“Call and the world shall answer.” She mumbles mostly to herself. Doesn’t miss the smallest little huff from the woman she’s shoving forward. She dives into the small alcove the second ‘Heda’ is out of her way. It’s a small space, maybe seven feet side to side. The ceiling is low enough she’s not sure she’d be able to stand her full height. 

Like storming clouds the creatures loud steps thunder closer to their hiding spot. From the sound of it they have seconds before the thing finds their safe haven. She has seconds to think, her sympathetic nervous system in overdrive. She grabs The Commander pushing her back to the right side of the alcove’s entrance. 

She erases all space between them all but sitting in the leader’s lap trying to make the two of them as small as possible. Without looking away from the slit of stone she raises a finger to her lips and holds her ragged breaths. It hurts. Her lungs are screaming, burning, needing air she’s willingly denying. 

Booming steps turn to slow deliberate thuds. A shadow crosses over the singular beam of sun lighting the small space. Silence follows. It’s a long careful thing, like the monster is waiting for them to run out of will and take a breath. 

Laudna looks away from the shifting light, the shadow, and finds lavender staring at her. It’s awestriking. How those hardened eyes of statue have fallen away to scared human eyes. There is a stark contrast between The Commander and this new person. It’s in the softness of her gaze, the purple of her irises holding all the emotion normally kept away. 

Laudna knows she’s not exactly comforting. Know’s she runs colder than most and her body is far too skeletal for most. But the utter human terror she sees looking back at her makes something shift. She swallows her own horror. Stuffs it so fast into a little box for later almost disregarding the thing outside. 

It bellows another low clicking rumble that shakes the very stone they sought shelter in. Little bits of pebbles and dust drift to the ground clinking noisily. It’s enough to shake the organs in her body, the blood running though her veins. 

It’s terrifying and yet… She smiles gently not breaking her gaze away from the woman she had pinned to the entrance wall. Her forearms press against the textured sediment at either side of lavender hair and she leans even closer. 

“It’s okay.” She mouths without letting out so much as a sigh. She receives a nod, then pride swells in The Commander’s forgotten armor and her face steels. Her eyes glaze over and whoever had been there was gone. 

Laudna shifts back an inch or two. She doesn’t vacate her taken perch, the light still dancing from the thing outside stalking the much too small opening. Her lungs are quite literally going to explode if she doesn’t breathe soon. She’s choking on holding her breath fighting with her own instincts, ‘Heda’ in a very similar boat. She strains. She shakes. Her mouth opens and she can’t hold it in anymore. 

Another loud earth trembling bellow. The both of them release and a hand the size of a medium sized dog shoots through their only exit. It’s claws the size of ‘Heda’s’ dagger scrape and carve into the stone from one side to the next searching. 

Laudna pressed the both of them even further into their little corner. She freezes watching pale grey flesh scratch against the rough terrain. It draws thick black blood to the monsters skin drawing a pained cry from the thing outside. She watches as to tries to bend it’s body in ways she hoped it couldn’t, it’s dangerous fingers unable to find them. 

Then in the blink of eye the heart stopping moment is over. The arm and it’s terrifying hand are gone. The monsters screams to the skies above get quieter as thunderous footsteps continue down the narrow valley they’d run through. The beam of light has stopped dancing. 

Laudna sits there unable to move a single muscle of her body that isn’t automatically moving for her. She pants forcing her eyes to the woman still very much pinned under her. 

“S-sorry I-” She scrambles to try and give space, her body is shaking so badly it takes longer than she’d like. She doesn’t get a verbal response. Just the smallest little nod, sweat damp lavender sticking to an even sweatier face. 

A silence so awkward it could’ve killed set in between them. Laudna feels the air thicken with every pacing second, every movement of her body as she sits near leather covered shins. She can’t help her hands finding her hair, doesn’t stop them running though it and pulling jus to feel the grounding jolts of pain in her scalp. She can’t help drifting her eyes to count as ‘Heda’ plays with the hilt of her dagger. Four taps, grip, slide, repeat. Four taps, grip, slide, repeat. Four-

“You could have run off.” That southern accent had been turned up to eighty. Lavender doesn’t find her gaze and she doesn’t raise it from the constant motions against a worked handle. 

“I could’ve, sure.” She agrees now twisting her long ebony hair around her fingers then pulling them free. 

“You chose to risk yourself, your friends.” It’s said like a statement. Like there was more to say but pride refused to let someone of her stature say anything more. 

Laudna gently smiles. “I chose to save you.” Her gaze flicks at the same time ‘Heda’s’ does. They stare then look away, neither of them looking for a silent fight. 

“Then you are foolish.” There’s about as much bite in her drawling tone as an teething toddler would have. Hurtful, but small. 

“I’ve been told by many how foolish I can be.” This time they hold each other’s gazes for a few moments. Then she’s given the win, lavender seemingly having a hard time staying locked on her. “Might I ask you a question?” Laudna fills the growing awkwardness. A questioning raise of a single eyebrow. This one giving cautious permission. 

The woman of the skies opens her mouth. ‘Heda’ shifts wincing and all of the common language leaves her mind. How could she have forgotten? Instantly she’s ripping her water skin from her make shift belt. She rips some fabric from her already tatter skirts dampening the cloth careful no to waste more water than necessary. 

“What are you-” The Commander jerks backward from Laudna’s hand finding the bow at the top of her thigh high boots. She’s stopped by the stone behind her, her fingers now fully grasped on her side weapon. 

Laudna rolls her eyes. “Sit still, you’re going to hurt yourself.” Her nimble fingers undo the leather lacing pulling the boots loose from the top down. Carefully she slides it off setting down beside the very bewildered woman, her eyes narrowed and body entirely tense. “It doesn’t look all that bad.” Laudna’s far more focused on the accosted ankle to notice steel rising out of it’s sheath. “You should be able to walk alright if you stay off of it for a day or so.” As gentle as a breeze she wraps the slightly bruised joint in the damp cloth. It’s no where near as cold as she’d like it to be, but it’s better than nothing she supposes. 

“Doesn’t that feel better?” Her lips lift from a little smile to a grin. The Commander held her favored weapon in her lap laying back against the sediment she leaned on. 

“Yes.” The pride in her strains her answer but it’s sincere nonetheless. 

“Wonderful.” Laudna goes back to messing with her hair. ‘Heda’ goes back to tapping. This silence is far less stifling than last. It’s not. Comfortable, but it is certainly an improvement. 

“Where did you learn medicine?” ‘Heda’s’ voice speaks so suddenly Laudna jumps, mind reeling. She scans the careful face in front of her once, twice, thrice, then decides there is far less Commander than earlier in the day. The woman she’d glimpsed wasn’t there, but she wasn’t on her full guard either. 

“My mother was a doctor.” Laudna answers truthfully. “I’m not qualified for surgery or anything but, I do know how to mend sprains and scrapes.” As she talks her hands start to move, just a little bit. 

“Mm.” The woman of lavender nods once. It seems she’s just as bad at small talk as Laudna. 

“What about yours?” She regrets it as soon as she’s the flinch rack through that tensed up body. “You don’t- if it’s- forget I asked.” Laudna flushes, fingers pulling roughly at a knot in her hair. 

“You had a question, earlier?” The Commander grants mercy. 

“Oh!” A little loud Laudna starts sitting up straighter. “Well. You know my name. Annnnd since I saved your life I thought it only fair you tell me yours.” There’s a war in those lavender eyes as they rake across her entirety. 

“There are no more than four people who know my true name. Those people have done far more for me than save my life.” Ah. A practiced distancing retort. Laudna pouted. 

“Alright then.” Is all she says before toying with loose threads in the lace of her skirt. She doesn’t think it’s fair. She’s done far more than just save her life. Volunteer to go into the Mountain, give up all of her information, save Esthross. He clearly meant something to ‘Heda’ or his word wouldn’t have kept her alive. Is all of that not deserving of one bit of personal information? 

She knew Fearne’s name. And Orym, and Dorian, and a smattering of others she’d been around briefly the day and night before. They weren’t near as high ranking as The Commander. But still. How un-

“Imogen.”

Chapter Text

Imogen Imogen Imogen Imogen. Her name bounces around her head ricocheting like an ancient pinball machine. The name felt so… well. A little odd. It was sweet. Three compact delicate syllables that didn’t really match the steel hardness of ‘Heda.’ One rough syllable holding all the weight of the power The Commander welding like a bladed war fan. 

Heda. Imogen. Heda. Imogen. They were just as contrasting, as starkly different as the two people Laudna had seen in their very short time together. Imogen. It was so humanizing. Six little letters had been enough to make stone turn to shale. 

“You can stop staring.” Imogen’s voice cut through rapid fire thoughts, her cheeks dusting a very pretty pink. Laudna audibly swallowed having to take a long few moments to just blink, collect herself. 

“Right, sorry.” The woman of the stars smiled forgetting to keep it small. It stretched up closer to her ears than most, it was just more comfortable that way. Where she expected disgust, or maybe a questioning look all she received the barest remnants of a smile back. “Did you just smile at me?” Laudna’s hands went to her hair excitedly pulling at it. 

Imogen rolled her eyes. “Don’t make a thing about it.” She tried to slip into the armor she’d partially set aside. The Commander didn’t shine through in the slightest. 

“Did you just use a conjugation?” Laudna was on her knees rather than sitting side saddle on the ground. 

“Don’t make a thing about it.” Imogen repeats huffing out a hard breath. Her face says ‘shut up’ but her eyes didn’t get the message. “I am being serious. I will have to keep your tongue as prize if you keep bothering me.” Her threat is empty, though her fingers slip her favored weapon from it’s sheath on her thigh.

“Well, I would like to keep my tongue where it is.” Laudna honest to the gods giggles a little bit. Her eyes duck away from the lavender staring at her, then flick back barely catching the shocked? Surprised? Look on Imogen’s face before it fell away to her carefully neutral default. 

Then silence follows. Much, much lighter than any they’d found themselves in so far. Laudna picks a bit at her nails and Imogen shifts where she sits, clearly uncomfortable from sitting still for so long. 

Even with Laudna’s offers to help her feel more at ease, the too proud woman leaned against the alcove’s wall. She insisted she was fine. Said she did not want to disturb the healing of her ankle. Clearly she had no idea what she was talking about. Moving it a little here and there was actually a good thing, but of course what would Laudna know? 

Her dark brown eyes physically rolled at that. Who was it that had some medical training? Not the stubborn lavender haired woman in front of her. Eventually she just gave up settling for rewetting the already soaked cloth around the afflicted area. The least she could do was keep it cool-ish despite the overwhelming heat. 

Being trapped in a completely stone hole directly soaking in sunlight would do that though, wouldn’t it? Even if the slip of sun streaming in was thin, dust swirling in it’s rays, the space was so small it was enough to heat the interior to an uncomfortable degree. Their body heat surely wasn’t helping, the two of them sweating trying to ignore how their clothes were beginning to stick uncomfortably. 

“Gods below.” Laudna whispered to herself fanning her face with her hand. Being forced to grow up in climate controlled space station did not prepare for her much. Certainly not dealing with heat, weather in general. Fucking Whitestone. What had it prepared her for, really? Not e-fucking-nough. 

“You believe the gods below you?” For the first time there was genuine intrigue to the stoic woman lazily playing with her knife. Her eyes moved up to find Laudna’s and held them with interest. 

“No, I mean yes but not like-” The woman of the stars fumbled a bit. “Technically in space we were above them? Like, Exandria, Gods, Whitestone.” She moves her hands over one another in layers. “So, y’know. Gods below.” An embarrassed flush heats her already flaring cheeks. 

More genuine than anything else so far, Imogen let’s out a full smile and soft chuckle. 

——

The rest of the day drags on. They don’t talk about much anything of import. Just going over how to sneak into the death tunnels, where exactly the main control room is and how to get there. 

Laudna slips in some small talk. Learns next to nothing of note except Imogen really like horses. Like. Really likes horses. Which leads to her asking a stupid stupid question. 

“Did you grow up with horses?” She thought it would’ve been just an innocent little thing to try and pry some more information from her… companion? Acquaintance, maybe. Either way she is not prepared for the immediate flare of dust and pebbles as The Commander fully encompasses Imogen. 

“Yes.” The tone of her voice shifts to something incredibly dangerous and Laudna feels her heart begin to quicken. This tone is far from something she’s never heard before. In fact, it usually spelled out punishment, pain. 

“Launda.” Delilah’s teeth never part as she growls out standing over the terrified girl strapped down to the Chancellor’s favorite lab table. “This is all your fault.” She holds up a paper with multiple graphs, all their lines falling and falling in continuous increments. “Do you understand what you’ve done?” Delilah’s tone verged on lethal. 

All Laudna could do was stare in abject horror. Her personal tormentor threw the stack of many, many papers letting them scatter like shards of glass. Even knowing what was coming Laudna still found herself panicking. Felt her chest get tight at the sight of Delilah’s favorite thin stiletto knife. 

“Do try to hold in your screams. I already have a fucking headache.” 

Laudna blinks rapidly. Shakes her head and stares obviously at the stilled blade in rider’s gloved hands. Even with the lack of sunlight, the paled yellow seeping to a deep deep orange, it’s silver glinted as Imogen mad move to sheath it.

Instinctually Laudna took in a sharp breath holding a hand subtly in front in her. The Commander froze holding as still as possible, the only sound came from the light breeze blowing in from the slight crack in the mountain side, and her heavy panicked breaths. 

“Are you… alright?” Face neutral. Lavender eyes neutral. A weird in between of human and stone. Laudna absently nods, eyes trained on the weapon sitting pretty in steady hands. Slowly Imogen moves sheathing her dagger. “Better?” 

Laudna nods. “Yeah, sorry I-” She takes a deep breath practically pulling her hair from her scalp. “It just happens, sometimes.” Her smile wavers and she loses her ability to speak swallowing down wave after wave of past trauma. 

She can still hear her. She can feel Delilah’s cold unwavering fingers pressing onto her shoulder. She can feel freezing breath whispering unintelligible words again the shell of her ear, something about ‘she’s going to betray you’ or maybe ‘get her before she get’s you first.’ It’s hard to tell when Delilah won’t enunciate, won’t repeat. Won’t get her fucking hands off of her shoulders.

“I had a horse, growing up.” Imogen fills stuttered silence. Dark brown eyes flash to her. The grip on her bony frame loosens in an instant. “Her name was Flora. She was beautiful, and strong.” Unbridled sadness filled Imogen’s eyes… Tears glossed that lovely lavender forcing the air from Laudna’s lungs just as she’d caught it. 

She nods. Focuses on the way the textured ground feels under her fingertips pressing them harder and harder, scraping them until they sting. Until she’s sure she’s leaving trails of red on the stone banded stone and the whispers begin to subside. 

“Was?” She asks quietly. Doesn’t really care if it get’s answered or not, just needs Imogen to keep talking. Needs her voice to drown out the witch cackling in her head. 

“There are many trials to become Heda.” A singular tear streaks down Imogen’s cheek. An understanding sits in the air between them. Delilah retreats.

“Oh, Imogen…” 

“It is fine. It was so many years ago.” Frustration ebbs her drawl to thicken, distracts Laudna long enough for her to catch her breath and still her erratic heart… mostly. It doesn’t really beat normally anymore anyway. 

Without really thinking she reaches a hand out, has she begun to take up a tan? Lays her palm on Imogen’s thigh squeezing gently. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” Her gazes flicks, more than willing to give this staring match to her constant opponent. She gets a half of a laugh, not a joyous one but more of an ‘I already knew that.’ She squeezes again then let’s go of the thigh beneath her palm. 

“It would serve me well if you could,” Imogen gestures to the drying cloth around her afflicted ankle. “Make that cool, again.” A weak attempt to steer things away from getting more personal than they already are. Laudna chuckles gracelessly accepting the turn. She’d love to learn more, is incredibly good at subtly listing information from people. She doesn’t want to steal from Imogen. She’d rather wait a hundred years just for her to speak again. 

“Yeah, alright.” Laudna moves slowly. Carefully and deftly going through the motions, inspects the damage then sighs. “I know you wanted to leave at night but-”

“We have to-”

“It’ll be better to wait until tomorrow afternoon. I know,” She halts Imogen’s protest just wanting to get the argument over with before it starts. It’d be just perfect if they’re very carefully crafted peace is ruined in only an instant. “I know how important this is. It’s not just your people in there.” Tightening the soaked cloth she feels lavender eyes trying to burn her alive. 

Laying her head in her hands she presses the heels of her palms hard into her eye sockets. She knows it’s better to wait, if Imogen were to re-injure herself it could be life or death… 

It’s life or death now. Just not for them. Fuck, for all she knows all of her friends are dead. Or maybe they’re being drained of their blood just like The Grounders were, are. 

Images flash in her mind. Of Ashton taking down as many armed guards has they can with nothing but their fists and rage. His body bruised and beaten, pale from lack of red flowing through his veins. 

Letters’ impossibly blue eyes glazed over. Broken bones and limbs at wrong angles. If anyone would try to appeal to the better side of the people attempting his life, it’d be him. 

And Chetney. Crotchety old man Chetney. He’s put himself between as many of the kids as he could. Maybe he’d try to rally them to fight back, power in numbers and all but… They were children and there is only so much they, he himself, could do against armed crazy mountain people. 

Launda grits her teeth shoving her hands into her eyes until the pain gets to be too much. Waits until black turns to red then let’s her hands drop to her lap. Little shapes and black spots dance across the ceiling, each disappearing when she tries to focus on one only to reappear the second she looked away.

“I am more than capable of continuing, I do not need your coddling.” Imogen moves to put her boot back on hissing just too loud. Her eyes dart to Laudna and her scowl is nothing short of killer. 

“It’s not coddling. I’m sure you’re very capable. But until you can get that on without wincing I’m going to insist we wait.” Dark eyes hold fiery lavender. “Unless you want to risk every single person in there because you couldn’t wait a few extra hours.” Why must she let her tongue loose? Hasn’t she got the scars to tell her when to shut the fuck up? Apparently not.

“Death happens in seconds. How many have to pass before you realize the full extent of what is at stake?” The Commander has once again taken over in the blink of eye. “Which of your friends has to die for it to sink in?” 

“Despite what you might think, I know how hard the world can be. I know what means to suffer. To lose. I don’t want to face the loss of any of my friends but I’m not willing risk their chance of survival over a twisted fucking ankle.” She’s within striking distance and holds her mouth closed more than sure Imogen, Heda, could have her tongue as a prize before she even comprehended agitated movements. 

“Every single soul that leaves this plain is your fault.” Heda holds the handles of each of her weapons refusing to look Laudna in the eye out of shear anger. And Laudna can’t blame her. Not really, if she thinks about it. If the roles were reversed she’d want to keep pushing too. She’d fight through whatever pain tried to stop her, whatever obstacles got in her way.

She opened her mouth to retort then lost the words as quickly as they formed. Her fists tangled into her beyond tattered skirts not satisfied with leaving Heda the last word. 

“I know.” Her voice barely carries. Barely makes her vocal chords vibrate yet lavender peers at her from the corners of narrowed eyes. “I know.” Unbidden images of blood and gore flash again. Every single one of the kids she came down with hanging in that room over a sea of roiling crimson. 

“Then why are you so insistent on coddling a sprain? I’ve carried out plenty much more wounded than this.” Heda shifts so she looks down at Laudna. 

“It’s not coddling. It’s caring.” Laudna stays where she is, let’s Imogen look down on her. Watches the way something rocks through the unshakable woman in front of her. “And you shouldn’t have to push so hard. Whether you’ve been impaled or it’s just a sprain. You deserve rest.” She won’t look at Heda. “If you’re constantly protecting everyone else who’s there for you?”

The tension in the air is so thick Laudna could collect it like sludge in her hands. She won’t look up form her hands and refuses to acknowledge the way Heda’s hands have turned to fists in her lap. 

She’s not sure what she was expecting. Screaming? Arguing? To end up with a blade at her throat for the second time that day? Whatever her mind could come up with would’ve been better the utter lack of anything. 

Anything would’ve been better than this unending silence. 

——

The sliver of sun has disappeared. Laudna moved to sit at the very back of their little safe haven facing Heda-mogen. An odd mix of the two had formed, one side of her gentle and the other ready to cut Laudna’s off if she breathed too loud. Which is something she threatened when her breaths had become stuttered, her mind racing too fast for her to keep up with. 

Imogen was beautiful cast in the silver glow dimly lighting their alcove. In the sun she was a beacon. Golden light clung to her like it was trying to gain her favor, like it begged her to notice and bless it with her attention. 

In the light of Catha, far overhead and nearly full from the little glimpses peaking through the slit in the mountain, she was a marvel. Tan, sun kissed skin seemed to absorb then send out the silvers of the night like she was the Moon’s chosen vessel. The scars on her arms turned bone white contrasting against all of her forcing attention to them. 

Even as Laudna tried not to look, she could see the way Imogen fidgeted every time her eyes dipped, she was drawn to trace them. Trace them with her eyes again and again less and less subtle every single time. 

It was like following lightning across dark storm clouds. Each jagged scar leading to the next all the way from the tips of her fingers, the exposed ones anyway, to just under her elbow. They raised slightly, thin and a little too deliberate the more her dark eyes studied them. 

“Must you?” Imogen turned her wrists down setting her hands on her lap.

“Sorry. It’s just.” Laudna jolts a bit like she’d been caught looking at an R-rated magazine. Her gaze ducks away then finds Imogen’s. It’s really the first time lavender has looked at her. It’s intimidating, probably on purpose. “They’re so beautiful.” The all powerful woman before stills like an interested predator. She’s heard this before has she? “I mean it, Imogen.” She whispers her name like it’s forbidden. It feels like it is, in this moment of starlight and proximity. 

Imogen flexes her fingers pushing her forearms down even harder. Her lavender eyes, are they actually glowing or is that just the light? They skip around Laudna’s body making her feel beyond exposed. 

This time though, it’s not invasive. It doesn’t feel like Imogen is sifting through her thoughts with nothing more than a quick glance. It feels like she’s being studied. Being looked over like a case file for every single detail she’ll give away.

“They’re… are they natural?” She tries to keep the cringe off of her face. She wouldn’t’ve believe herself either. “I mean, they’re just so-” She shut her mouth worried of her words if she kept speaking, the proverbial shovel in her hands suddenly feeling very heavy.

“Each Heda chooses their mark. The more powerful they become the more the mark is spread.” Heda-mogen holds the power of the world at her fingertips. Her fists tighten. She’s talking again, which is much preferred to the utter quiet that swallowed them both.

“Oh. Oh.” Laudna’s eyes move down to hidden scars. “Who- how-”

“Etheross is my advisor. He’s trained in the art of scarring. I am not his first Heda.” The way Heda talks sounds like bullet points. Like she’d reading off of a list, one thing to the next. How many times has she had to go through this explanation? 

About a hundred different things swam through Laudna’s head. A hundred different questions fought resembling a school of fish to food. “Do they hurt?” As her hand moves forward she pauses, eyes catching on her own much less beautiful scars. Her hand falls back to the ground, destroyed finger tips getting shoved into the multicolored stone. 

“Not anymore.” Imogen clears her throat. “It is late. You should rest. I will wake you in a few hours.” She’s dodging again. Quickly moving the attention away from her. 

She was a little more loath this time. “Why lightning?” She tries her luck. Imogen’s eyes flash. They are definitely slightly glowing. 

“I was born during a storm.” Imogen barrels on before Launda can ask another question. “It is late.” She presses extremely hard closing the intimate conversation indefinitely. Laudna get’s the hint doesn’t want to start another fight. She’s gotten more than enough to satisfy her curious mind for a good little while.

“I won’t rest until you do.” They haven’t looked at each other, really looked at each other in a very long time. When they’re gaze locks it’s like electricity thunders through the alcove. 

“Are you always this difficult?” Heda rolls her eyes but she loses her authority as she yawns, cheeks flushing a slight pink. 

“I am when I have to be.” Laudna softly smiles at the half of a laugh she get’s, even if it’s empty of joy. It’s more a scoff, she supposes. “If there’s something you want to do, or need me to do, I’ll do it.” She offers a compromise. 

Heda sits up a little straighter, a challenging look on her face. “You’d let me bind your wrists?” Her tone is low, smug. Like she’s won the game before making check mate. 

“If it helps.” Without hesitation Launda spins putting her back to The Commander. She crosses one wrist over the other, far too practiced, then waits. She’s mostly calling Imogen’s bluff, one hundred percent sure Heda wouldn’t hesitate but. Regardless of how hard Imogen tries to hide she can’t, now that Laudna knows what to look for. What to say and do to slowly lure her out of her fox den.

“You would trust me enough?” And that question is all Imogen. Delicate, bewildered, southern drawl cranked up to a thousand. 

“Well, you would be asleep so there would’t be much to worry about.” The woman of the stars peers over her shoulder smiling brightly. She get’s a wide eyed look in response. Then Imogen lays down, arm bent under her head without further prompting. 

Launda smiled all to herself and shifted to rest her back against the wall behind her staring out of the alcove intently. She’d rather be damned than let anything eve think of harming either of them.

——

When she was woken it was by a gentle hand shaking her out of her blissfully dark sleep. Imogen is knelt at her side staring a little too wide and little to unblinkingly. Is this what people feel like when Laudna stares at them? No wonder people were so unsettled by her. No wonder her parents punished her for ‘being too much.’ 

“I got my boot on.” A true very small grin breaks through guarded neutrality. 

“What?” Laudna blinks away the sleep blurring her vision. “Oh, Oh! Wonderful. Ready to go?” Stretching her muscles and bones popping loudly she sits up. Maybe Whitestone did prepare for one thing. Sleeping on incredibly hard and uncomfortable surfaces. Even if she didn’t reach REM at least she was rested. 

“Yes.” Lavender was already disappearing out of their temporarily shelter. Laudna watched intently waiting for any sort of limp or hesitation in movement. There wasn’t one, at least in the few moments it took her to really gather herself. 

She groaned slowly crawling after her escort. Her body was angry with her. Aching and snapping and yelling at her to, maybe, not sleep on literal stone. It’s far from the first time she’s felt like this. It never does get easier, she’s just more used to dealing with the pain. 

“Gods below-!” Laudna squeezed out of the mountain side shielding her eyes from the blinding sun far to the east. It couldn’t be more then seven or eight in the morning based on it’s positioning, thank you Estheross.

“We should hurry. I do not know how safe we are here. The Nightmare King could be anywhere.” Imogen is marching down the narrow path between mountains barely giving her a glance. 

“Excuse me?” Laudna jogs to catch up. “The fucking what?” Her eyes dart around trying to keep track of every single hiding place. 

“The thing that tried to kill us yesterday.” Imogen looks at her over her shoulder. “The Nightmare King.” She turns back around, hand on her dagger. The other swinging back and forth idly with each step. 

“Fitting name.” Laudna struggles to stay at Imogen’s pace. “I’m guessing my asking for a slower pace will only go ignored?” She huffs out desperately asking her atrophied body to stay put together. 

“What was that?” Imogen gives her a sly look. 

“I think I liked it better when you didn’t joke.” Laudna chuckles, tone sarcastic to hide the overwhelming blossom of warmth in her chest. Whatever changed last night, she hopes she doesn’t fuck it up.

Chapter Text

It’s the little things. Like the sound of birdsong and rustling leaves. Light airy breezes barely strong enough to push aside stray, sweat damp hair. It’s small things like animals darting in and out of view, drinking from bodies of water ranging from ponds to puddles. The latter can’t be the best for them. Their little bodies must’ve evolved to  deal with the hundreds, maybe thousands of deadly bacteria all swimming together in a disgusting puddle soup.

It’s the little things. A couple of groups of butterflies fly around and through the forest with zero care. They’re beautiful all bright colors and crazy black lined designs, each of them unique. Later she would learn that they glow in the dark, their dark lines a vibrant purple making their dimmer colors turn to bright neon. Probably akin to a blacklight, if that had been a thing on this Exandria. 

Imogen said it was a defense mechanism. Their flight patterns and glow enthralling predators long enough for them to get away. It seemed ridiculous, until Laudna found herself stood still and watching a group of them move like they were beautiful sea creatures rather than flying insects. 

It was the smallest, most genuine little chuckle that pulled her from her trance. It was the freest smile, head thrown slightly back and Lavender eyes dimly aglow that had re-captured her attention. Teasing words drawled a light hearted flushed her face with heat, stumbled her words and step until she was sat down safely at their bonfire. 

It’s little things. Like Imogen no longer too far ahead. It’s little gestures. Like when a twig snaps or maybe a rotten branch breaks and falls to the ground, Imogen in suddenly in front of her. One hand back just grazing Laudna’s skin, or the fabric of her shirt. The other hand extended either wielding her impressive rapier, it’s handle on the simple side but still ornate and beautiful. It swirled around where a gloved hand held it protecting it like armor. That was only drawn at the much louder sounds, Launda realized. The quieter ones only garnered the use of her dagger. 

It’s the smallest of things. They walk side by side now. Imogen’s fingers always finding a way to graze Laudna’s body. Nothing strange, nothing past her thin, definitely taking up it’s first tan ever, arm or just the edge of her shirt. She apologizes and then takes a step away just to end right back up at Laudna’s side like nothing happened. 

The most invisible mean the most. Imogen gently moving around taking the direct sun into her lavender eyes so Laudna didn’t have to. She’d suddenly quicken her step then kick away some brush to reveal a nasty ankle breaking hole. She never says anything, just pretends she almost stepped in it always steering them both away.

It’s silent little looks over her armored shoulder making sure Laudna was staying at her heels when her energy was running low. Pointing out poisonous plants or warning her of the little innocent creatures slowly inching towards her. That they can and will in fact rip her face off in seconds. 

Like all little things, they accumulate. They gather and turn to something big. Leave a faucet on long enough and suddenly the house is flooded. Eventually the hour glass needs to be turned back over.

Laudna let’s out a grunt as her back hits the rough bark of a giant tree. She struggles against gloved hands holding her wrists over her head, covering her mouth to quiet her protests. There’s a knee between her thighs and Imogen is suddenly so close she can feel her breath against the skin of her neck. It takes biting her hand through leather for her to pull back, shock barely making itself present on Heda-mogen’s very concentrated face. 

“Imogen.” Laudna whisper shouts. Lavender catches her eyes. Holds them in contempt. So very like her to slip back into the hardened warrior at the drop of a hat. 

“We can’t.” The commander only tightens her hold. Her free hand slips to Laudna’s hip squeezing it roughly. 

“There are children.” The woman of the stars tires to plead with the human hidden behind weathered statued features. 

“I know.” In a whispered stuttered Laudna watches Imogen’s heart break. Lavender eyes gloss over never looking away, never letting Laudna’s attention wander. “If those two do not make it back The Mountain will know. They always know. No matter how careful we are, how efficient we kill, they always know.” 

As she speaks the gruff, sort of mumbled voices of the radiation-suited men fill the spaces between trees and pauses in birdsongs. Instinctually Laudna’s head whips in their direction. She pulls at the hands on her body futilely. 

“We have to- Imogen. They’re just-” The hand on her hip glides to lay on the center of her chest. 

“I can save them.” The lavender hair woman smiles sadly. “But we will lose everyone else.” As she blinks her unshed tears disappear as if they never existed in the first place. An artist erasing a mistake before it can ruin the final piece. 

The weight of a leather clad hand suddenly feels exponentially heavier. Sitting like a black hole on her chest, breaths sucked away by it’s sheer gravity. So this is a sliver of the burden Imogen carries? The pressure is enough to kill, it feels like it might if Laudna tries to take on anymore than just the touch of a hand. 

“Do you understand?” Imogen asks as the voices of a father, mother, children beg The Mountain people to spare them. Let them go, they’ve done nothing wrong. Laudna nods and closes her eyes. 

If anything it has to opposite effect. Lose one sense to heighten another after all, right? Four distinct shots like cracks of thunder on a day so clear not even clouds clog the blue expanse peaking through thick leafy canopy. 

Four dull thuds into compact dirt. Two evil, vile, voices laugh. They laugh at the atrocity they’d just committed. Laughed at the fact they just took four innocent lives just for the hell of it. Just because they could. 

Laudna flinches at every shot. She finds her wrists freed, hands instantly flying over her ears like that would help anything. Incredibly hot hands snake around her lower back, find the base of her skull and hold her tightly… Protectively? Letting her hide between the crook of a sweat damp neck and lavender hair. It’s the little things like that can undo a person in their entirety.

The laughter fades away with thunderous uncaring stomps. Birds, insects, creatures slowly return filling the unending and total silence following The Mountain’s wake. 

Slowly Imogen pulls away. Slowly she takes her hands off of Laudna’s shaking body, only when she’s sure she can stand. Slowly Laudna starts to make sense of the things around her again. Starts to see the quickened breaths cascading from Imogen’s… no. Surely not? 

Imogen’s face is riddled with guilt. Shame. Her eyes skirt the spaces around her willing travel companion, never really staying on her actual achromatic person for too long. Without a word  The Grounder leader moves with a fluidity only time and experience can carve. 

She flows around the trunk of the tree moving towards what Laudna assumes are fallen bodies. Like she’s seen this far too many times to actually give it too much thought. 

In shock Laudna follows behind at a distance. She gags at the sight of blood, bone, and brain matter shattered across the overwhelming greens and browns of the forest. The crimson looks like a blight, a stain of destruction against beautiful nature. It’s hard to look away. Even as her eyes drag over one boy, couldn’t be more than ten. His body lays on top of another smaller boy, his body a feeble shield against raging bullets. 

Another dry heave had Laudna spinning around and stumbling away to find somewhere more appropriate to lose what little was in her stomach. Her chest feels hot, tight, with sorrow and rage. It lights up the already aching parts of her. Refuels the energy she’d burned through. 

The Mountain will pay. For every single innocent life they’ve snuffed out she will make them suffer. She will get justice fore every man, woman, and child. Every person they’ve drained. Tortured. Killed. She launches to her feet wiping her chin, feels the muscles in her face fall to an expression of pure unadulterated fury and- 

She stops dead mid stride. 

Imogen has moved all four bodies to lay side by side, their hands clasped together by the fingers. Leaves and twigs and brush litter the dead, Flowers used to hide the gaping holes where brains should’ve been. 

She’s on her knees at the feet of the middle two bodies, the mother and the oldest boy. Slowly she puts her leather dressed hands together. Palms touching, fingers extend and thumbs crossed over one another. Presses her the tips of her first fingers to the center of her forehead and bows until her forearms and pinkies are flush against the dirt beneath her. 

“From this life to the next. May your journey be peaceful.” Her words are said from her chest. Vibrating and deep, the very wind picking up with each inflection in her words.

Laudna watches her in utter reverence. She watches grief pour through the air like summer heat, the air seeming to ripple around Imogen’s body. It’s as if the world in grieving with her. If storm clouds suddenly formed it’d do little to surprise. Of course they didn’t, but if they had it might’ve made things a little easier. 

A nice distraction to help Laudna as she awkwardly fidgeted on her feet. Carefully she moved forward and knelt beside her companion. Imogen made no indication she knew Laudna had sat beside her. She didn’t flinch at an oddly cold hand on her back. There was no protest as spindly fingers started to idly scratch at a thick amored vest. She wasn’t told to stop as her hand began to move up and down along the length of Imogen’s back. 

It was hard to avert her dark, rageful eyes. How could she when she was sitting at the epicenter of true human carnage? When little animals, and some much larger ones, stalked around sensing they should wait before descending on this family? 

She isn’t sure exactly how long they’d been sitting there like that. Imogen down on the ground so still a small creature reminiscent of a humming bird had flown and landed on her. It was incredibly small. It’s feathers shown a metallic emerald in the afternoon sunlight, underbelly a very dark crimson red. She chose not to look at it.

Beside moving it’s head back and forth odd and jerky it didn’t do much. Just regarded the person staring at it. And Laudna wanted nothing more than to coo and awe at it’s adorable size and big black eyes. She couldn’t find it in her to. Too much hate burned within her, even if the flames had dwindled sitting in silence. As fast as the little bird came it went. Wings beating so fast they looked as though they disappeared. 

“Come on, darling.” She didn’t mean to call her that. She didn’t take it back either. The hand she had purchase with moved to Imogen’s shoulder. “There’s nothing we can do anymore.” The statement rocked something loose in Laudna. To live is to survive, that’s how it’s been for the past two years. Different from now. Whitestone was a lot of careful faces, obedient order following and unending begging. Delilah had a soft spot, soft as bone but bone is more fragile than steel, for her begging. If she cried hard enough, bled deep enough, she could get herself the barest hint of a break from her reality. Earn some time to draw, pretend she was anywhere but Whitestone.

Here on Exandria to live and survive she’d have to learn to be strong. Strong enough to take lives, to kill without empathy. Strong enough to strike fear into peoples hearts at nothing more than a name. Big things. Far too many big things for her to grasp right now.

“Imogen.” She lightly pulls. “Let’s just go over there.” She doesn’t bother actually pointing or really looking anywhere. She keeps her eyes on steady breaths. Tightens her hold on a broad muscular shoulder softly trying to urge her to move.

Unfolding with a symphony of creaks, the awakening of a somber forest, Imogen sits up. Dirt sifted off of her arms, dusted the outsides of her pinkies. There was no emotion in her. Nothing at all, not even Heda. 

With a gentle smile and an even gentler set of fingers Laudna brushed away the gritty dirt from both of Imogen’s forearms. Lavender eyes traced her movements numbly, closed as cool finger tips cleaned away her forehead. 

“Are you…” Laudna trails off. Words aren’t something she’s the best at. Instead she wraps her arms around a marble statue. “You’ll make it right.” She whispers into the top of messy lavender. Which one of them is she really talking to? Who is she making this promise to? 

“We.” Imogen pulls away. She steps back so she does’t have to look so far up, stiff arms moving so gloved hands lay flat on Laudna’s chest. She grips the lose fabric of her dark shirt like a life line. “We will, StarLight.” And then she’s walking away leaving Laudna stood in place shocked to her very core. 

StarLight? Who StarLight? She StarLight? Did Imogen just-

“What?” She whips around. Imogen doesn’t slow or turn around. She doesn’t react to Laudna’s pounding footsteps or the bewildered look thrown at her. She only smiles quietly then keeps on trudging towards their end goal.

——

Day passes to dusk passes to night. By the time Laudna gathered enough wood to qualm the worry in Imogen’s brow she was ready to collapse. Which she does. She falls to the ground one knee at a time then all but face plants into the dirt staring at the orange flame cracking between them. 

Orange looked lovely on Imogen. At least this muted fiery orange. The way the flames danced across her skin, in her eyes, made it seem like she was made of fire. Maybe she is. It would make sense, but. Something about the sentiment does’t feel Imogen, or Heda for that matter. They, she, felt far more… stormy than that. Her rage is something destructive but not as wild as flame. She felt more like a lightning strike. Quick, powerful, a flash of what she’s capable of.

“So…” Laudna spoke from her spot on the ground. 

“No.” Imogen interrupted her sliding a whetstone alone the length of her sword. If Laudna’s kept count it’s the fourth pass over and in one, two… The blade flips and the count restarts. 

“StarLight?” The woman of the stars rolls on to her back looking up at the actual stars. They were lucky, or maybe the world changed for Imogen, either way they managed upon a small clearing. Tall grass, a small pond of water and many wild flowers of all colors dotting the landscape. Metal scraping stops on the third pass over. Lavender eyes dart up through the orange flames glaring for Laudna to continue trepidatiously. 

“It is customary to give nicknames. Fearne is BurningFlower. Orym is BloomingSeed and so on.” Imogen says with an uncomfortable ease. One Laudna knows very well. She’s hiding something, or isn’t telling her the full the truth. Without looking away from the sky she makes a note on her inner mental walls to ask Fearne or Estheross about it later… If she get’s a ‘later’. 

“I see.” Laudna sighs putting her hands behind her head. The ground was starting to really hurt, even if she was used to hard surfaces. 

“Shit.” Imogen muttered to herself. Laudna looked over at her through an orange filter seeing confusion write her face. She smiled to herself looking back up at the stars.

“Two more then flip, darling.” She chuckled at the ‘oh’ she received, stone scraping against metal the end of the sentence. She was okay to just sit for a little bit. She was focused on trying to pick out where Whitestone should be amongst the speckled black expanse above her. 

Did they go through with their plan to kill all those people? She sees hundreds of burned bodies smoldering at the foot of a metal ramp. Was her choice any different? Kill to save. Take to give. 

Her fingers dig into her hair. Are the unlucky chosen bodies chunks of ice floating through space right now? What about- She’s loathe to think it. Think about her with sick awful worry in her chest. She does’t deserve to be worried about, especially by Laudna. She knows that but… 

She still feels it. Feels darkness when she remembers the gun shot. Blood flying from her tormentors body. Remembers just how limply Delilah had tumbled down the shuttle ramp. There hadn’t been enough time to even glance back and see if… 

It doesn’t matter though does it? In the long run of things Delilah is in space. She’s trapped up there with a dwindling air supply and nothing to do about it. Whitestone is failing. It will become nothing more than a hunk of ancient metal orbiting a planet that hasn’t had use for it in centuries.

“We’re getting to the Mountain tomorrow.” Southern and mostly Imogen her voice barely has enough power to speak over crackling flame. It’s gentle cadence is enough to snap Launda away from her glaring, wipe the frustrated tears from the corner of her eyes.

“Yes. We are.” She glances just in time to see Imogen sheathing her sword, putting away her whetstone. Ah. Another thing to worry about tonight. No matter how much she keeps telling herself her death will be worth it, that she’ll make it worth it it’s… Terrifying. 

Death is something she knows like the back of her hand. She’s stared it in the face, could swear she had tea with a woman in a porcelain mask more than once. But being that close to death can make the mind do odd things to try and make sense of it’s own ending, so who knows for sure? 

She certainly doesn’t. Will she see her again tomorrow? This time their final meeting? The thought is heart wrenching. She’s not ready to die. She doesn’t want to die. There’s so much she hasn’t done yet. So much life here on Exandria she hasn’t gotten to experience.

“Are you prepared?” Lavender is already trained on her every movement. Gauging her like she’s watching an animal she cornered on a hunt. Is she going to bolt? Going to fight back? The uncertainty keeps a tense space between them. 

“Are you?” A careful answer from a careful girl. She matches Imogen’s demeanor. Matches her body language choosing to be the one to raise her eyebrow. It’s playful, cracks her guard into a smile she didn’t mean to share but doesn’t feel she has to take back.

“I’ve been ready since-”

“Yes, Heda’s been ready for quite some time.” Laudna interrupts huffing a half of a laugh at the look she gets. Half way between ‘you dare?’ And ‘shut up immediately.’ A constant she found herself relying on the past few days. If Imogen was anything she was consistent. Grounding in an odd way Laudna found herself… not craving. That’s going too far but maybe. Needing? Something hard and calm in the fucking chaos her life has been since the launch bay. “What about you?” She really presses on the last word. Refuses to give another tally to Imogen, hold her eyes probably a little less human than she meant to. 

“In honesty, I am worried.” There’s always a little bit of the hardened leader lingering. But right now the woman before is almost all Imogen. “This will be our one and only chance. If it goes wrong then we will never win this war. This is all I have.” She looks so burdened. Like the weight of everything she carries is manifesting on her shoulders forcing her down down down. Not that she shows it, not really. She sits up straight playing with the handle of her off weapon, face stoic and neutral. It’s in the eyes, always the eyes. They’re so dark. So clouded. 

“You’ll succeed.” Laudna says sitting up. She peers over the low flame now, feels it’s heat on her cheeks relishing how it nearly burns. She means what she says. Imogen will succeed one way or another, she just hopes she can stay alive long enough to see it.

“Your optimism hinges on naiveté.” Lavender eyes roll. “I hope you are right, regardless… StarLight.” Imogen smiles. She smiles. Fully, truly, smiles. 

Laudna feels her face light with heat nothing to do from the fire inches form her face. Embarrassingly she balks at the sight, mouth opening and closing as choked noises that were supposed to be words escape her. It only worsened as Imogen tucked a lose strand of lavender hair behind her slightly pointed ear.

Her once immaculate and careful braids have been slowly frizzy, fraying, and falling loose from their tight bonds. All the traveling and sweating and fighting things off really did a number on Orym’s work. It was really starting to bother Launda, watching her tie and fix and retie her yellow scarf around her ponytail slowly gathering more and more lost strands. 

“Might I try and fix that?” She manages to ask slowly, each word a lung full of air apart and overly enunciated. She feels silly asking but, by the gods below if her hair was anymore of a mess it’d be a birds nest. 

There’s a beat. Four full heartbeats then Imogen nods. She doesn’t move from her spot, just nods. A pretty dusty pink covers her blush line lit in dull oranges. 

Laudna moves like she’s trying to get close to a scared puppy. Which of them is the puppy is up to interpretation really. Of course Imogen remains indifferent, it’d be impossible to tell she was nervous… If she hadn’t stopped her meticulous tap tap tap taping to instead grip her dagger’s handle with white knuckles maybe Launda wouldn’t’ve noticed. 

Even still the tips of her fingers shake. She makes her way at a careful pace until she kneels behind the shorter woman. What’s supposed to be a cleansing breath stutters out of her like a failed engine. It does little to sooth either of them, both of their spines tensing at the sound like a gun shot. She sees four splattered heads, reds soaking greens. She shakes her head trying to focus on the task in front of her, trying to get rid of the darkness in her chest.

“I’m…” She trails. Her fingers pause still trembling just above the yellow scarf holding the mess of hair from Imogen’s face. She clears her throat. “I’m starting now, just. Let me know if you don’t like it.” Politely she waits for a nod, or hum of affirmation. 

“Alright.” A tense word making her nerves feel like their on fire. Which is so so stupid. Laudna knows it’s so so stupid to be this gods damned nervous over fixing someone’s hair. She used to teach all the other girls in her class to braid, all kinds too. Dutch, French, three to five strand, how to style it so it looked overly fancy. She used to do her mother’s hair whenever she had an important meeting. This is as easy as breathing for her. It’s one of the things she has unwavering belief in herself with. If there was no skill she had at least she could braid, style, and fix hair. 

Her chest rose, fell, rose again and she gently undid the extremely tight knot in satiny fabric reaching over Imogen’s shoulder for her to take it. The Grounder Leader seemed very attached to the little swatch of fabric. This only cemented when her hand shot up to take it like Laudna was going to throw it into the fire before them. 

Without taking it to heart she started to comb her fingers through tangle after tangle doing her best not to pull too harshly. She kept the old braids pinned in place not touching them until she was ready, until the rest of wild lavender was under some semblance of control. 

It was surprisingly extremely relaxing to run her fingers through Imogen’s tresses again and again, each pass through smoother and smoother until she was easing her way through. She’d nearly forgotten what it was she was doing for a second. She completely spaced out only coming back to reality when she realized she was humming an old song, one that had lost it’s lyrics over generations. Gentle in melody, the runs easy and the bridge a wonderful cadence. It was really a shame the words had been lost. It was such a beautiful song.

She shakes her head chastising herself. Focus. This is going to take her unwavering focus. The first braid of many falls loose from it’s simple leather binding. She helps it come lose using her index finger to mark where to start. Criss cross over repeat. A simple mindless motion until she runs out of room to continue. It looks good. Tight, put together. No frayed edges or flyways. 

The pounding of her heart slows now that she has a point of reference to go off of. The designs and styling looked far more complicated than it actually was. It was all about placement and strand count. Larger ones toward the center of her skull, small ones towards the edges of her face for framing. 

Speaking of framing. Shuffling carefully her knees cacophony their aches and whines, both promptly ignored. She didn’t have far to move anyway, just to the side of Imogen rather than straight behind her. She was so in the zone she didn’t even think before reaching out and taking The Grounder Leader’s chin in two of her fingers. 

She turned her face until her lavender eyes, opened wide in shock, looked at her. Laudna barely noticed the utter lack of a mask on her companion’s face. She just held two framing pieces moving them here and there until she liked where they sat. Then wordlessly moved back to where she’d been sitting in the first place going back to meticulous work. 

By the end of it all her fingers were furious with her. Palms cramping and wrists protesting anymore movement. It was worth it though, when she stepped, well awkwardly walked on her knees, around to face the woman of lavenders. She smiled at her work. 

The only reason it was obviously different were the subtleties she put into the styling. Where Orym put in simple yet strong accent pieces she went a far more defined and delicate route. If she’d had had more pins, or maybe more little bits of leather to work with she would’ve really gone all out, but she did what she could with what she has. 

“It better look good.” All bark and no bite. Imogen moved her hair into one hand tying it off, mumbled something about the heat being too much on her neck. There was a moment where she paused then looked over to Laudna. 

“I know you like your hair up. I accommodated.” The woman of the stars felt pride swell in chest. She stared at Imogen fidgeting a bit with it. Shaking her head or pulling lightly at her ponytail. She looked genuinely caught off guard. “Do you like it?” Laudna still felt the need to ask, needed the affirmation. 

“I- yeah.” The woman of pastels smiled again. Real, large, big. Her teeth poked through, the slightest gap between her front teeth catching Laudna’s attention. How had she missed it before? Something so unique and utterly unmissable. Just as quickly as it’d come her smile was wiped away. A flush of rosé shyness closing off her lowered guard. 

“Well, if it makes you smile like that I have no qualms if you need my assistance in the future.” Laudna says with a natural ease. Doesn’t feel weird about it as she shifts to lay back down across the flames between them. She earns herself a real scoffed laugh. A chuckle wanting to escape stopped by practiced emotional control. 

“You have quite the silver tongue. Be careful who you speak to that way.” Is Imogen being playful?

“Worried someone might steal my affections?” Laudna muses mostly as a joke, eyes up at the stars. She’s not expecting a response, or at least nothing more than a scoff or heavily implied sigh. 

“It would be a shame.” Those words have Laudna grinning like a mad woman. She mouths them up into the sky feeling them in her mouth, hearing the bite in smooth southern drawl. She’s not sure if she should respond, she definitely doesn’t have the right words to banter. 

The silence seems to speak for the both of them. Comfortable. Thick in a warm blanket on a cold night sort of way. In Imogen’s words, ruining it ‘would be a shame.' 

——

The next morning comes far too quickly. It feels like sleep had just sunk it’s claws into her exhausted and elated mind mere seconds before her eyes opened to the pastels of dawn. Sunlight peaked over the horizon, bounced off of morning dew sending muted rainbows in every which direction. 

It’s a beautiful sight. It’s a wonderful sight. It’s breath taking. Especially when those colors cling to a woman made for them. From reds to violets they stick and bounce off of her tan skin, her slightly damp clothes from having slept on the ground. Golds and saturated oranges stream from the morning sky seemingly drawn into Imogen’s gravity. They halo her, spin and swirl like they’re dancing around her bidding a lovely good morning. 

Laudna strains against the very same light. It burns her eyes. Makes her feel weighed down as her muscles ache and bones snap. It takes her a long dizzy moment before she’s able to open her eyes without blinking rapidly, the softened edges of the world sharpening in an instant. 

“Good morning, darling.” She stretches her arms over her head letting her companion know she caught her staring. 

“We have to get moving.” Oh. A Heda morning then. Taking a few more seconds to just bask in the gorgeousness of the day Laudna sighed heavily. She traced every one of Imogen’s movements ticking her fingers at her side from her spot on the ground.

The grounder leader is going to cover ashes and charred wood with dirt burying the evidence of their fire. 

Laudna ticks her pinky down to her palm. 

The Commander checks her personal pouches, her brow just the slightest bit scrunched blindly checking her things. 

Her ring finger lays down. 

The increasingly familiar dagger glints in the dawns light. Leather covered fingers run across is edge back and forth four times, up one down two, before it’s returned to it’s home. 

Middle finger down for the count. 

Finally hardened eyes stares at the shadows of trees. Her lavender eyes dart left to right then back coming to pause when they lay on Laudna’s staring form. She nods her head just enough to be perceptible. No dangers await them this morning, she says in zero words. 

Laudna smiles giving her a thumbs up from the hand she’d been counting on. It’s baffling that that simple gesture is what get’s her the most emoted look she’s received yet. Completely caught off guard and extremely confused Heda takes a step back. 

“It means okay, or good, or got ya, you know it’s actually pretty universal.” Laudna explains with a light laughter to her voice. “I was acknowledging your nod.” Her lips turn upwards softly. 

“Oh. Okay?” Imogen shines through the tensity. She holds up her hand copying the thumbs up thrown at her. 

“Wonderful!” The woman of the stars is on her feet clasping her hands to her chest excitedly. “That’s exactly right, Imogen.” In the past few days Laudna’s learned a few things. Learned the routine her friend,?, follows in the morning, afternoons, nights. Knows where she keeps her whetstone, her water skin, the small container of black face paint she hasn’t had to use yet. The lighting mask across her eyes was holding up, despite sweating and constant traveling. 

She also learned that Imogen responds well to praise. Nothing overtly obvious, but her eyes brighten ever so slightly. Her features soften and lift from their neutral position to something less statuesque. Now is no different. Even with Heda at the forefront holding back the woman Launda has been trying to coax out, she shyly nods before turning away. 

“We have a long way to go. If we are to make it then we cannot stop.” Imogen is up reaching a hand down for Launda to take. 

Chapter Text

The trees have thinned in a very dangerous way. They’re shadows have been swallowed by the sun, brush and foliage sticking to spaced out trunks. It was near impossible to remain hidden in a way that truly mattered. Moving from tree to tree still meant they were out in the open for far too much time to be comfortable. 

It meant they had to pause, hold their breaths, at every little sound. Every time Imogen got the feeling someone or something had spotted them they had to wait in tense silence. Sometimes it was seconds, other times it felt like hours just sitting and waiting for something to happen. 

Nothing ever did. It was just a precaution. Necessary for their mission but nerve wracking every single time nonetheless. It was murder on Laudna’s naturally slower heart. All the cardio and rushing and anxiety had her holding a constant hand over the left side of her chest. She squeezed the fabric of her shirt taking their umpteenth pause to breathe. 

Her back laid against thick, rough, bark. Eyes closed, ears opened, and chest heaving with exhaustion. She felt the very warm presence of Imogen just at her side, no doubt holding both handles of her blades without actually drawing them. She could feel the utter annoyance radiating off the Grounder Leader as said leader let out an annoyed breath through her nose. 

Time to go then. Dread filled the empty pit of Laudna’s stomach. The constant moving should be a little easier on her by now, shouldn’t it? Maybe it was? It’s hard to tell when she hasn’t had a point of reference for her health in years. 

When she opens her eyes it’s to the exact same thing she’d been seeing for days. As beautiful as the world on Exandria is she can say for certain green is not her favorite color. Not a single shade of it. Green has been burned into the backs of her eyelids. Scratched into her mental walls overly saturated and loud against the prism of colors she can imagine. 

It’s going to be the biggest relief of her life when they finally get out of this sea of green and brown and other natural colors. It’ll be nice when her ears don’t ring against the grating high pitched bird calls, the low croaking and clicking of animals and amphibian creatures. 

Of course it’d be nice if the result of that wasn’t risking her life in the stone of The Mountain they’re trudging toward. In a perfect world she could just make friends with Emoth, have some tea and save everyone. No death. No fighting. No wars. Just a silly little time with silly little conversations and not so silly peace treaty agreements. 

But that’s just wishful thinking. This she knows, falling a step behind Imogen letting her take point as they head forward once again. She knows deep down her heart isn’t just beating this hard because of, well the everything. It’s beating like it was on Whitestone when they were leading her to the docking bay. When she thought she was going to follow her parents. When she thought she was going to die. 

Even spending every waking moment trying to come to terms with it… She can’t help but wonder what will happen when she’s gone. Will they call her altruistic? Selfless? Selfish? Will there be celebrations in her honor? Will there be a day of hate where they burn pyres of her image? 

Her gluttonous curiosity burns her brain. She’ll never get to know. She won’t get to see what the results her brief presence on this planet will cause. She’s insatiable for answers. It’s like fire in her body that never ends. It smolders until something sparks a new flame. Just the knowledge that she won’t get to quell it of her own choice… It’s. 

It makes everything all the more hard. Which is so stupid. She won’t be alive to care. So what’s the point in worrying herself like this? There isn’t one. But she’s only human and humans are stupid. She’s stupid. 

Stupid for thinking she could get away from- 

She shakes her head. Grips the fabric in her hand harder. She’s always worn her emotions on her face, can feel how deeply she’s frowning and grimacing and sneering all at once. A combination so fierce it causes the muscles in her face to ache in confusion. 

She did get away after all. Even if it was all by the design of some evil mastermind. To what end? To what end are they, the hundred from space, suppose to be? A test? An experiment? What was the point of sending them here? 

More and more unanswered questions. Hotter flames licking at her, suckling the marrow from her bones. She just wants some answers before… She shakes her head again holding it in the hand currently not squeezing her shirt to death.

Will her life always be coming to terms? Is that what she’s reduced down to when whatever been cooking her alive finally takes her off the heat? Just a thick layer of ichor-ey sludge begging for some sort of control? What a waste of her life, in the truest sense she never really got to live in the first place. 

She’s never even kissed someone. She’s never dated before, not really. She’s had crushes, pined a little over boys and girls who only saw her as a joke. But she’s never loved. Never known what’s like to be loved, other than by her parents. 

Is it too early to mourn herself? The life she could’ve… Should’ve had. The one that only existed in her head where everything was just as she wants it? Can she even mourn something that isn’t, and has never been, real? Maybe that’s what living is. Wanting. She’s always left wanting. Everyone around her had always been wanting no matter what they had.  

Her parents wanted better things for her, for the citizens of Whitestone. Ashton wants Letter’s to find themselves and Letter’s wants to find a purpose. Chetney wants to carry on woodworking, really make a name for himself. Hell even Delilah wanted and she had everything. 

The difference though. Laudna has never had anything. Her parents worked like hell for her but, their work took them away. It consumed them and what little time they had together. She had friends, but they were taken from her too. Even the rat puppet she’d found discarded and she had fixed had been stolen from her.

She has never been allowed to want. Her wanting was selfish. If she wanted her parents, well she just didn’t understand that they were doing it for her. She didn’t understand how good she had it because of their tireless work. 

She did but, she was a child and she was afraid of the dark. 

If she wanted someone to talk to they ran. They laughed at her, bullied her, made her out to be the freak of Whitestone. No one would tell her why, no matter how much she wanted to fit in. 

When she wanted the pain to stop she was told to shut up and take it. When she longed for an escape she was sorely reminded just how little power she really held. Holds. How little control she has over her fate. 

Her life is decided and had been decided the moment she accidentally flew into Delilah’s orbit. She’s still not exactly sure how that had happened. Just another thing she wanted, wanted answers for and would never get. Just another thing to slip through her fingers like silk and land at the pile of things she’d lost at her feet. 

A stuttered breath leaves her. Her dark, almost black, eyes suddenly sting and she’s blinking quickly to stop the sudden build up of tears blurring her vision. She sniffles desperately trying to stop the abrupt grief teasing at the edges of her, leaking to the parts of her she’d been trying to protect. 

It’s damaging the many boxes she’s made and carefully shoved away to the recesses of her mind. The acidic ichorous darkness of it erodes the inches thick metal. It’s as gluttonous for her pain as she is for answers. Eating. And Eating. And Eating. Tearing through a neat pile of the forgotten leaving it’s painful contents spilling out on the dark streaked floor for her to try and desperately clean. 

She reaches for every part of her life she’d rather leave alone and feels her fingers slip though the unending weighted hurt. Each object, or face, or feeling remains unmoving even as she scrambles to try and lift them back into their broken boxes. 

Each thing she touches brings up memories associated with them. They flash like explosions in her head. One after the other unbidden and unwanted they throw her off her balance. Keep her so far off her kilter she has no chance of recovering. 

It’s hard to say when she stopped walking. When she fell to the ground, still clutching her shirt like a security blanket. It’s hard to say when Imogen had knelt in front of her, gloved hands reached between them but never actually touching. 

Her lips are moving but only the voices of haunted memories scream in her ears. Blood thunders under the discordant hymn pounding to the speed of her overworked heart. Imogen raises an eyebrow, whatever she was saying finished. 

Laudna can only shake her head. She didn’t hear a thing, can’t hear anything. Can’t feel anything. She’s rocking back and forth cradling herself trying so desperately to just get the hurt back to where it belongs. The monster of sludge has passed. It’s blacked trail slowly evaporates keeping it’s hiding place in her mind a secret.

“Laudna.” 

The sound of her name snaps her unfocused staring straight to the source. Imogen looks relived. Her hands move a little forward just resting on bony knees offering a weighty line to zone in on. 

“There you are.” Imogen gently speaks, gently smiles a familiar small thing. “Whatever it is, it can’t hurt you anymore.” She breaks eye contact to slightly look over her shoulder. The fingertips of her left hand leave their purchase on Laudna’s body, their weight immediately missed, and wrap around the handle of her dagger. 

Laudna follows her eye trying desperately to pull herself together. Beyond blurred colors and vague shapes she can’t see what Imogen does, if she sees anything in the first place. When the woman of lavenders settles, fingers re-finding her body she’s managed to get her vision cleared. 

‘It can’t hurt you anymore.’ Rings around her head ricocheting like thrown stones. Laudna forces herself to follow each bounce, each echo in her head. One by one her boxes repair themselves. Her hands finally grasp the objects she can barely stand to look at and she finally get’s them put away. 

Her chest is stitching by the time she calms her breaths. Her body shaking despite the overwhelming heat of the day, eyes finally able to stay open longer than a few moments. 

Imogen hasn’t moved. At all. She’s stayed exactly where she knelt down. Hands burning into the fabric of torn lace skirts surely leaving behind marks. She’s fully laid her hands down, all five fingers and palms flat just above Laudna’s knees. 

“Sorry.” The woman of the stars just barely chokes out, face flushing embarrassed. “I’m usually much better at managing that.” Which is true. Usually if her thoughts began to wonder she was able to redirect, keep the acidic ichor monster away from her fragile pile of damage. 

“We all have our limits.” Imogen moves carefully. She stands reaching out to help Laudna off the ground, a motion so easy it catches the woman of the sky off guard when she automatically accepts the gesture. 

“Thanks.” She mutters shaking away the last remnants as well as she can. Cold has always clung to her, panic a familiar sinking in her bones. She knows the more she dwells the worse it’ll be for her to move past.

“Stay with me.” Imogen falls into her slower step, gaze tracking their forward path relentlessly. Laudna whips her head to look at her both shocked and confused. “You will need your focus. The Mountain is within our reach.” 

Oh. 

“I’m fine. It was just a moment of-”

“There is no affording weakness now.” Heda rumbles though Imogen’s body. 

“It won’t-”

“Cannot.” Heda interrupts a second time. “It cannot happen again.” Her gaze never leaves the surrounding area. She only stiffens where she stalks and picks up her pace. 

Laudna stares after her feeling. Hurt isn’t right, but it’s close. She wasn’t expecting to be comforted. Wan’t expecting to picked up and soothed like a child but… She wan’t expecting this level of chill. Of dismissal. She can’t think of anything to say. Stuck between ‘oh, my bad. Sorry I was worried about dying.’ And ‘sometimes emotions are just too much to keep in.’ 

The silence stretches and her moment to retort is missed. 

——

Within the next, very tense, hour of hurried walking they closed the last few jaunts to the Mountain. The two of them sit in the tree line staring at an unsuspecting bit of Earth. It’s raised high into the sky. Grass and trees and flora grow all the way to it’s rounded peak, small creatures dart around and the sun touches it as delicately as a mother to her child. 

It would be beautiful, it is beautiful. Deceptively so. If it weren’t for the carved out rectangular tunnel it would’ve been perfect. Somewhere to return to and have picnics at. If it weren’t for the piled up bodies rotting away a few hundred feet to the left of the tunnel. If it weren’t for the dark stains and dragged paths in the dirt it would’ve been gorgeous. 

“We have to make it in.” Imogen says still not looking at Laudna. “You remember where to go?” It looks like she’s about to glance over, maybe make eye contact. And Laudna feels hope, or something akin to it spark at the same time something cold flares. Her gaze fixes back forward and Laudna feels conflicted about that too. Absently she begins to play the ends of her dark hair. 

“Yes, I remember.” Her words are a little more clipped than she meant, or maybe she did mean it? Either way she felt the urge to take it back, repeat herself in a more gentle tone. They are at their destination after all. Imogen is the one person she can even dream of relying on. Those leather covered hands are the only things that are going to keep her alive long enough to save her friends. 

“And once we get the center?” Imogen is getting ready to sprint. Bent knees and double checking her weapons are safely held in place. It’s a good one, maybe two, hundred foot sprint from the little cover of thinned forest to the tunnel before them. There are no trees, the grass is low to the ground. There are no places to hide. The second they move they loose all sense of stealth, any sense of safety.

“Find a way to signal the next wave, I know.” Laudna is just as antsy. She wipes her sweaty palms on her skirt. Braces her exhausted body begging her limps to cooperate. It’s only a debilitating run. Just one more and then they’re at the end of their journey. 

“Alright then. On me.” Imogen points to the dirt directly at her side, a silent ‘be here.’

“On you.” Nerves kicking it up to one hundred Laudna runs. She stays just behind Imogen never falling more than one calculated step away. She revels in the wind blowing her hair back, soaks in the cool it washes over her sweat damp skin. It would be perfect, if it weren’t for the impending doom she’s to face. 

Something glints. In the dark of the tunnel, just at it’s precipice. Another something catches her eye on the opposite side of the opening. Laudna squints against the sun willing her eyes to try and focus on the darkness, to figure out what’s in the sunless void. 

The very tip of a short submachine gun passes into the sunlight. She’s moving before she can think. She slams her entire body into Imogen’s sending The Commander flying to the left, five or six gun shots echoing off the forest. Her heart catches in her throat feeling a sharp sting from her arm, she’s far too focused on watching the deft and skilled way Heda corrects her careening. She stumbles for one, two, steps adjusting then running off away from the entrance of the mountain. Away from Laudna. 

Out of the two of them, it’s better for herself to get caught. Or shot dead. Either way her body has her moving towards the gaping maw of The Mountain with reckless abandon. She sprints in a very smart, straight line directly at the bulleted beast roaring gunshots like a mating call. 

“Hold.” A familiar older voice echoes from far down stone walls. The gunshots stop in an instant. Dread fills her stomach but she doesn’t stop running. She blows past two guards wearing bulky radiation suits, militaristic guns raised focused on outside. They barely even look her way. It’s a little insulting, degrading, she get’s it though. She’d be much more afraid of Heda too. 

As her eyes adjust to the dark, yellow fluorescents lining the ceiling just enough to allow visibility while keeping the entrance from being a beacon. She sees an annoyingly smug figure standing at the end of the tunnel. Their arms are crossed behind her back, navy blue pant suit pressed and wrinkle free. Radiation suit free. 

Laudna doesn’t slow. She sets her jaw and crashes into Emoth Kade with every once of velocity she can manage. Emoth let’s out a winded cry, her back hitting the stone wall behind her, a singular door just the right of them. It’s a little victory, to make this vile woman feel any sort of pain. Laudna wants to hurt her more, has her pinned against the wall with ease even with her lack of any real physical strength. 

“How are you-agh!” A meaty forearm grabs her around the throat. She fights against it. Struggles and pulls trying to get free of the light choke hold, just enough to labor her breathing. It’s a useless attempt but at least it’s still there. The person holding her raises to closer their full height, much taller than Laudna, and she has to choose between standing precariously on her tip toes or try not to faux hang herself trying to get out of this grapple. She chooses to remain breathing for as long as possible stilling her wild flailing. 

“It’s nice to see you again.” Emoth boredly fixes her outfit. Her lips curl into the smuggest most arrogant piece of shit smile Laudna has ever seen. And she’s  been Delilah and Co’s play thing for years.

“Can’t.” Her voice comes out hoarse speaking against the arm pressing dangerously at her throat. “Can’t say. The same.” She forces out with a bite that doesn’t really do much with her restrained like this. 

“Hm.” Kade chuckles amused. “You’re a very lucky girl. Do you know that?” The older woman moves into Laudna’s space. She holds the woman of the stars’ jaw in both of her hands roughly not letting her tear her face away. 

“Wouldn’t. Call th-is. Luck.” Laudna wheezes clawing into the arm holding her trying fruitlessly to pull it even just an inch downward. Pressure was starting to build in her entire face, her breaths getting steadily shorter. It’s only a matter of time until the darkening of her vision turns to forever black. 

“Oh, darling.” Emoth brings herself closer to Laudna’s face. The nickname along send shiver’s down Laudna’s spine like a trained dog. Emoth bears down with an elated, excited look in her crazed eyes. “Do you know why you’re still alive?” She doesn’t wait for a response. Just get’s ever closer, beyond too close. Cool breath tickles the outside of Laudna’s ear as the older woman whispers, “Turns out you space people are far more effective against… Radiation.” The slightest intake of air causes Laudna to shiver once again, this one much harder to disguise. 

“What?” The terrified woman goes completely still. She forgets entirely how much danger she’s in in an instant. Ashton, Letters, Chetney, the faces of the people she can remember all flash through her mind one after the other, pale. Corpses dry of all the red that swam through their veins, that same crimson puddled beneath their hanging bodies, just like the Grounder’s she’d seen before. 

“Oh don’t worry. Your friends are.” Kade chuckles low, deep in her chest and far too amused amongst it’s darkness. It’s a familiar sound. One that’s usually followed by gloating, or a smug terrible reveal. “Well, they’re alive at the very least.” Ah, history repeats. Laudna feels sick. Feels her stomach spin and her heart drop at the same time. 

“Wouldn’t you guess it?” Emoth steps away from her prey, hands behind her back and eyes hinging on insane. “Turns out the answer was deeper than just blood.” Her lips quirk to a wicked little smile. “It’s in your bones. Your marrow is like a fucking cure for our little radiation problem.” She gestures to herself doing a very dramatic spin. It would be impressive, her spinning on the tip of her heels if she wasn’t such a bitch. 

It takes Laudna a full few moments, heartbeat echoing in her ears like thunder, to really process the information. She’s not a doctor by any means, more of a glorified school nurse really, but she knows enough about the human body. Knows that the only way to get bone marrow is by extremely painful surgery usually done under anesthesia. There is absolutely no way in hell The Mountain people would have that. Even if they did they wouldn’t use it on her friends. If they’ve been under that kind of torture the entire time she’s been gone…

“They’re- Fucking children!” She swipes out trying to… hit, scratch? Hurt Emoth. The man holding her backs up a step tightening his hold on her throat. She slips off of her tip toes scrambling to get back up, breaths already a finite resource. 

“I’m not a monster.” The older woman rolls her eyes before they return to deep, terrified brown. “Besides. The younger ones just aren’t as effective.” Her voice is mocking. Sarcastic. Arrogant. It makes Laudna’s blood roil beneath her skin. 

She goes to retort, a hundred different lashing words ready to leave her mouth. She’s stopped by the sound of horrid desperate choking. She strains to see, can’t past the man holding her. Two heavy thuds hit the concrete floor of the tunnel, echoing off the walls like laughter. Both Emoth and her captor look at each other. The Mountain Leader nods to the man slowly backing towards the door behind her. 

Laudna stumbles as the man holding her spins to face the entrance of the tunnel. Her shallow breaths halt in her lungs. Her body freezes and her already racing heart speeds. Standing there completely shadowed out by the blinding sun is a welcome terrifying silhouette. Two glowing lavender eyes glow brighter than they had the previous few nights. They flicker like electricity across a stormy sky. At her feet are the two suited guards. Crimson soaks across their unmoving fallen bodies. It’s sprayed on the walls and puddling, leaking out past their ruined radiation suits.

Imogen… not Imogen at all, is it? Heda stands with her blades at her sides. They drip drip drip red, the tip of her sword held inches above the ground.

“S-stay there!” The man behind her very unconvincingly shouts. Comical, if he wasn’t pressing the tip of a pistol to Laudna’s temple. “I mean it!” Either Heda didn’t hear or didn’t give singular fuck about his threat to her life. She moves forwards at her normal pace, which is still exceedingly quick. 

The terror sitting heavy in Laudna’s body like wet cement begins to fade. She holds the glowing eyes of the warrior before her. There is no sign of the woman she’d been getting to know. There is no gentleness. No calm or kindness. There is only rage. Timeless darkness seeps from her approaching form licking off of her like static. It’s scary. It’s horrifying. And Laudna’s not even on the receiving end of this ire. She can’t imagine how her captor is feeling, if the shaking of his hands on her means anything he’s feeling about the same. 

The captive woman keeps her gaze locked with Heda. She does’t try to look okay, or ask for Imogen silently. She let’s her emotions shine in her eyes, get’s nothing but angered resolve back. It’s enough to let her know Heda isn’t going to stop. She’s a warrior with a mission and nothing, no one, is going to stop her. 

Laudna takes a breath, the pistol shoving harder into her head as her captor screams, pleads really. He’s begging at this point… it’s kinda pathetic. And it’s enough to let the slowly suffocating woman know he’s most likely forgotten she’s there. Or at least she’s not at the top of his priority list. Not when he’s pointing his only means of defense away from her now, arm extended past her head. 

If he fires he’s going to blow out her fucking ear drum. If he has the balls to fire he’s going to miss. Laudna stares down the top the sleek piece of metal. Let’s her gaze unfocus from the everything to zone in on the little fin of metal just before the barrel of the gun. It’s sight is off center, the aim just off the right. It’s not Heda’s dominant side. If he actually manages to hit with his trembling grasp and frantic screaming, Heda bleeding out will be the worst of her worries. 

Lavender eyes flick away before coming back to stare at her. The Commander is only twenty five, maybe thirty feet away now having quickly crossed about half the tunnels depth in seconds. The steadiness of those eyes, their glowing gaze, it was enough to fill up every nerve in Laudna’s body with calm. It’s dizzying. A complete one eighty on the turn of a dime. 

Spindly hands release their death grip on aluminum like material. They slowly slide down hanging limply at her sides. She has full trust in the woman now beginning to sprint in her direction. Inhaling deeply she let’s out a long breath slowly closing her eyes.

The man behind her jerks. He screams for Heda to stop, his gun firing twice. Laudna winces each time, keeps her hands down despite the already somewhat cloudy hearing on one side turning to nothing but ringing, the other nearly muffled annoyingly like listening to music too loudly with headphones. 

She doesn’t open her eyes until the arm on her throat retreats, a spray of hot liquid dusts her left side. Her captor stumbles away gasping, rasping deeply for air. His shouted pleading demands have turned to screaming agony. 

She keeps her eyes closed until there’s a familiar hot hand on her shoulder. The first thing she sees is Heda. Standing directly in front of her, Not a single scratch to be seen, glaring over her shoulder. Right at the frantic cursing older woman slamming herself into the door she’d been trying to pry open for a good fifteen or so seconds. 

Laudna turns her head away watching Heda sprint towards Emoth. A soft gasped “Please.” Catches her, her head whipping to the bloodied guard now slumped on the floor in a heap. 

It takes all of her will not to loose her stomach. His skin is red, raw, covered in burns and blisters. His lips crack with every slighted breath he manages to squeeze in and out of his dying body, one of his hands falling losing it’s grip on the cut in his suit exposing him to the toxic air. 

“I can’t.” He looks like a desperate animal toward his fallen pistol just out of his reach. She’s not sure of he meant he can’t move or can’t bring himself to end it himself… but she got the point nonetheless. 

It would be a mercy killing. Not like the rest, which sat heavily on her. This would be different. She knows that logically. Reasons reaching down to hold the surprisingly hefty weapon in her hands. This is a mercy killing. She’s doing a good thing. He wants it. His death is imminent anyway. It’s better for her to-

“On me!” Heda shouts. Her voice carries over the muffled static in rising ears. It bounces around and out the Mountain like physical force. Laudna looks away from the heap of a dying man. Emoth is tearing through the only way into the lions den. The Commander is hot on her heels, the door closing quickly behind them. 

“Please.” The man begs. She looks at him. The door. Him. The door. “Don’t go. Don’t- Ple-”

“I’m so sorry.” She turns and runs. She pushes herself to a speed that has her whole focus, she’ll trip over own body weight if it doesn’t. Her lithe body slips past the crack of the door and it’s frame following familiar lavender blur. 

Holy hells. Heda is far quicker than Imogen. For every two steps Laudna takes she’s already four ahead. It’s impossible to close the distance between them, no matter how hard Laudna pushes her body to move she can’t get herself to go fast enough. 

Impressively Emoth moves with a grace her decrepit body shouldn’t. Maybe it was the serum or whatever they concocted out her friends bone marrow. She’s not sure what it is and she doesn’t exactly care to find out. Not when she’s too locked in on remembering which turns to take. 

So far Emoth seems to be leading them straight towards The Center. It could be trap, it probably is. The final T section is a approaching. They have to go left. Laudna knows the have to make a left. Emoth beams right. Heda follows without hesitation crashing into the wall, her speed too fast to turn unrecklessly. 

Shit fuck ass fuck. Laudna looks down both hallways. She can hear the many, many, booted steps coming from all directions, still a ways off but still too close for comfort. They won’t have time to deal with Emoth and get the next wave of Grounders inside without the threat of their defense fog. 

‘On me.’ The words ricochet around her head. She also knows the importance of the mission, what they came here to do in the first place. She looks right then grits her teeth careening left. If their limited knowledge was right there are only a few doors leading to a dangerous dead end. 

Stone walls and yellowed lights are nothing but passing blurs as she counts. One set of doors. Two. Three. She skids to stop staring at a lone metal door, red paint chipped and rust eating away the exposed material. 

She grabs the long sideways handle pleasantly surprised when it lowers. Her stomach quickly drops to her feet as she throws open the heavy slab of metal. Two people re already holding up their own Mp7a1’s. She barely has time to duck down and press herself against the outside wall of the room. 

A hail storm of bullets rains out skipping off the stone walls. A few dangerously slam beside her, her hands up protecting what little of her face she could. There’s a stinging in her left side, just another graze. Her right thigh screams in pain. A bullet sits half way nestled into her body. It’s broken body shining red again the dark grey of the fabric of her skirts. 

Laudna swears under breath. It’s better to just leave it, right? Or is it small enough it’s worse to let it be? She’s not sure. There wasn’t exactly a crash course about what to do if you got sort of shot up in space. Should it hurt more? I feels like it should. Dull thuds pounding up her leg, sharp stings from her side. It feels like it should hurt a lot more. 

Loud booming steps. She flexes her hand on the pistol in her hand. Gods below she hopes this thing doesn’t go flying out of her hand. She’s never shot a gun before. She has no point of reference for the kick back. 

“Where the fuck-” One bland uniform wearing body runs from the control room just at the edge of her periphery, eyes still on the bullet in her thigh. Without thinking she raises and fires her gun twice. Blue eyes of a young looking person fall from deep brown to shining crimson on their hand. They stare at their own blood with a confused look stumbling her way back into the room she’d just run from.

“Tracy?” The second person’s voice is close. Probably just in the door way. Laudna can’t tell for sure and doesn’t think looking in would be a good idea, the wall behind her feels secure. At least keeping pressed against it erases the chances someone can sneak up on her. 

“Tracy! No. No no no, hey. Hey look at me. You’re going to be okay. You’re- Trace. Trace. Hey.” The second voice’s tone drops. Cracks and breaks filling with realization. If Laudna’s going to do anything now’s the time, whatever words that managed to get past broken sobs were unintelligible to her already sundered hearing. 

Steeling her nerves and keeping off of her right as much as possible she spins off the wall holding her weapon in both of her hands. There is no hesitation. She shoots the remaining person in the head sending their brains and parts of their skull splattering out behind them just like the family in the woods.

Laudna swallows hard. Darts into the room closing, locking, and barricading the door with one of two folding chairs. She jams it under the handle looking at the large mechanical panel taking up about half of the small control room. 

There’s so many buttons and levers. Some are labeled. Simple things like ‘medical bay lights’ or ‘banquet hall doors.’ Others seem to just be a ‘in the know’ situation. She could tell with ones were used more frequently than others, their colors far more faded or eroded grooves from fingers showing their usage. 

Her eyes scan back and forth trying to figure out which fucking button she was supposed to press to let in the Grounders. Which ones were death sentences and which would only inhibit her and Heda’s escape. 

Gods below why is this on her? Why are all of these hard life altering decisions her to make? This isn’t what she meant when she wished and hoped and prayed to get away from Delilah. From her horrible life on Whitestone. A real monkey’s paw her life was turning out to be. 

Quickening breaths and stifled lungs. Her hand grabs the loose fabric of her shirt just over heart. ‘It cannot happen.’ Heda’s voice tells her. She swallows hard squeezing her eyes shut so hard they add to the pain wracking her body. There are no hands on her besides own, she’s so much colder than Imogen. 

Just like-

“Let’s make a deal!” A quiet staticy voice spoke. Laudna’s entire body jolted  away from the confusing mess in front of her finally noticing the harrowing amount of monitors to her right. Almost like a magnetic draw she found amongst the many screens, many people running around like chickens without heads, Heda. She had Emoth pressed up to a wall somewhere, blade of her favorite weapon pressing so hard into her neck blood freely wept down her frail body. 

“If you let me go I’ll let you take all of your people. Even the ones outside. No harm will befall them or you. I have no use for you anymore.” The older woman pleaded. To Laudna’s horror, Heda paused. 

“All of them?” Heda’s voice was so different from Imogen. There was no emotion when she spoke, only monotone hardness. 

“All of them.” Kade nodded quickly. There was a long silent pause. Laudna watched the screen with rapt attention, lip bitten so hard between her teeth she tasted copper. 

Heda pulled away. She kept her blade pressed to Emoth more as a threat than a promise. “How do I know you will not betray your word?” The Commander asked low and dangerous. 

“Why would I? I have no use for you or your people. There is no benefit to me betraying you.” Emoth smiles, sighing with heavy relief when Heda steps back. She eyes the older woman carefully then wipes the blood on her blade off on Emoth’s navy suit. Kade’s eyes widen looked utterly disrespected, hateful, and angry. But she’s smarter than to say or do anything against the warrior before her.

“If you do anything untoward it is your head on a pike.” Heda walks backwards never taking her eye off Emoth. Only when she’s crossed cameras, entered and exited different screens does she turn around and take off. 

Laudna sinks under her own weight. Betrayal and anger and hate and crestfallen rage stir within her. She tears her eyes away from the monitors only when Heda enter’s a hallway with no security. No cameras follow her and Laudna can only guess she’s found her way to her captured people. 

The woman of the stars feels like she’s out of her body. Her head feels light stumbling as she turns back to face the control panel. Too many emotions fight in her head. They fight for control over her body telling her to do things ranging form ‘run the fuck away’ to ‘kill Heda yourself.’ 

And she wants to. A small part of her wants to. A far more logical part of her knows that that’s idiotic. She’s known that woman for what, the better part of a week? Of course she’d take the opportunity to save her people. Of course she’d take the silver platter offer of saving them all, no repercussions or death looming as threats. 

That’s what Heda came here to do in the first place, right? That’s what Laudna’s here to do too, right? If she was given the option, would she have chose differently? The angry part of her says no, she would never. That she’s better than that. But the logical part of her knows that she might have. She probably would have… Could she have? The thought of leaving Heda… Imogen here alone against an entire army even as obviously capable as she is…

She shakes herself out of it stepping too hard on her right leg. Pain rockets up and down and oh. 

Oh.

There’s the pain. There’s the gut wrenching guttural screaming pain she was expecting and oh fuck. Oh shit. Her hands slam on the edge of the control panel catching herself, her knees buckling. Her eyes scan desperately across the various lit buttons and several levers trying to distract herself. 

Gods be- fuck. Her right thigh flares, fingers instinctually diving to tear the bullet out of her skin. Pitiful pained sounds grit past her clenched jaw, her fingers coated in deep rich blood as she looks at the little piece of metal between her fingertips. She throws it off somewhere, tinking around until it comes to rest. 

She flicks her gaze to the dozens of monitors to the right. People dressed in tactical uniforms are marching in groups now, guns up and searching room to room. They pull people from a few, split off to lead them to safety. It’s only a matter of time before they find her here, alone. 

Bitterness slips across her tongue, casts the back of her throat. She looks back to her objective and finally, her eyes catch far eroded letters sitting just under a long red handle. It’s parallel with the panel held suspended by two thin metal supports. The most comprehensible word reading ‘Ventilation.’

She grasps it hesitating. If, when, she pulls this towards her hundreds of innocent people are going to die. Men, woman, children, every single person will succumb to the same fate as the man she left to choke on toxic air. They’ll all suffer until their bodies can no longer sustain them. 

But her friends need her. They’re suffering too. They’re being used as a biological farm. The people of the Mountain will only keep them hostage for as long as possible offing them like wounded horses. 

She has to pull this fucking lever. That’s it. Just one quick motion towards her body and then- 

To three. 

One.

Two.

Three. 

She can’t get her arm to move. It stays exactly where it is death gripping smooth faux wood. Tears prick at her eyes, images of violence swimming in her head. No matter what she does people are going to die. No matter what she does someone she is going to end up changed, grieving who she was two hours ago. 

“Fuck.” She shakes where she stands just staring actively ignoring the bodies laying just out of her view. “On three,” 

One.

Two. 

Thr-

Something hit the only way in and out of The Center with the force of cannon fire. She nearly crashed to the ceiling, eyes darting to the unmoved lever just in case her jostling had dire consequences. It’s the same position it’s probably been in for centuries. Her heart races. Pounds as hard as whoever is throwing their body against the barricaded door. 

She watches the chair buckle under the sheer force of whoever is trying to get to her. It’s metal bows and creaks until it bends flying across the room. It’s only a matter of seconds until the slab of metal acting as a barrier slams open. It’s only a matter of seconds and she has to to pull the Gods damned lever down now or- 

The door bursts open. Her entire body freezes in shock. Tension stretches across the room like a stretched rubber band as she stares at the intruder. She blinks. Slow, careful, completely unsure if what she’s seeing is true or if she’s seeing things again. Especially in a situation like this.

“StarLight.” Heda runs to her side reaching for her face. 

Laudna jumps back coming to her senses. “You left.” Accusatory, voice raw with unjustified hurt. Or is it justified if she’s feeling it in the first place? 

“I did.” Heda hold her hand in the air for a second to long before dropping it to her side. She looks wholly unguilty. Lack of emotion or not, she clearly doesn’t regret taking Emoth’s deal. 

“Then why are you here?” The injured woman holds up an easy facade. It’s easy to act when there’s truth behind it, even if she can feel relaxing endorphins flooding her wrecked nerves system. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, leading the march back to Jrusar? You did get all of your people out, didn’t you?” She spits out the words lacing them in dangerous venom. 

In total Imogen fashion Heda dances a little on her feet. “Not all of them.” Her lavender eyes stay on Laudna’s very strongly. 

“Then shouldn’t you be going?” The woman of the stars tries to turn away, turn fully back towards the mess in front of her. She’s stopped by a hand on her jaw gently pulling her gaze back to Hed… Imogen. 

“Not everyone made it out.” Imogen’s voice speaks through Heda’s stone, Laudna’s brow furrowing entirely confused. Warm, Imogen’s thumb rubs away a bit of the sticky, drying blood from her left cheek. 

Oh. 

Oh…

OH.

Realization hits her harder than the bullet did. It slams into her brain erasing everything else from her immediate reality. Her face flushes with a sudden heat, eyes going wide and jaw falling slack. She has a very large vocabulary, and yet every single word in her lexicon fails to form on her tongue. All she manages is a few dry swallows and parting her lips like she actually has something to say. 

“Together?” Imogen’s free hand lays over top the one still white knuckle gripping the kill all switch. Laudna nods regaining her composure. Forcing it away to dissect later. 

“Together.” It’s hard to tell who pulls first, which one of them is following the other. Not that it truly matters. The second the very obviously disused sticky lever clicks at the end of it’s short journey yellow lights turn to flashing red. An alarm louder than anything Laudna’s every heard, including enclosed echoing gunfire, blares from all directions. 

Chapter Text

When a rubber band is pulled taught there are only two out comes. One, it’s let go firing off in the direction it was pulled away from. Two, it’s pulled so far the only choice it has is to snap. 

Laudna rides that middle line between running and losing it like an acrobat on a tight rope. She watched on every single monitor as bodies fell. Men, Woman, Children, and everyone in between succumbing to the same fate as the man she abandoned at the tunnels entrance. If she hadn’t ripped her gaze away… well she’s not sure but she knows it would’ve been damning. 

Instead her eyes are transfixed on the lever she had pulled almost hypnotized by it. She barely registers the extremely warm hand over hers, barely feels how hard the presence beside is squeezing. And maybe there’s a deep southern drawl in her ear. She can’t tell over the sound of long high pitch blares. 

Each dip and rise in the alarms is starting to sound more and more like death tolls. Like once the kill switch is back at it’s rightful resting point The Mountain will rise to it’s own wake. The Mountain will weep and mourn the loss of so many innocent lives. 

It’s weird. Because she’s not sure she feels much of anything. She sees her hand on the lever. Knows the fabric she wears is still slowly soaking with thick liquid ruby. She feels the pain still thudding densely under skin but, doesn’t really feel it. 

She’s smart enough to know it’s shock. Her mother had explained it to her after she witnessed someone get their hand cut off doing some ship repair. She was so confused as to why the poor man wasn’t screaming his head off and why he was so calm. 

“That’s called shock.” Her mother had gently taken her by the shoulders, gently talked in a tone Laudna can’t really remember anymore. Just remembers how soft her mother’s voice would become and how warm it made her chest.

The pressure around her own, still-attached, hand increases until it’s painful. It’s crushing her bones together so harshly she swears hairline fractures appear like spiderwebs. But then she’s scream out right? She’s yell or rip herself away from the woman beside her, right?

She doesn’t. She only manages to dazedly blink until she feels in her body enough to look over at a red soaked Imogen bathed in rotating light. She was debating on whether red was least favorite color or not. Red meant blood. Red meant death but… Gods does it look so good on Imogen. 

“Have you found your way back?” The woman normally made up of lavenders asks with a concerned cock to her eyebrow. Laudna’s knit together confused. 

“I… Haven’t gone anywhere?” Slowly the true level noise begins to assault her ears. Slowly she realizes just how fucked her hearing is right now. Clouded and shot from point blank gunfire…pointblank gunfire in stone echoing tunnels. Her eyes drift back to the kill switch, body instantly feeling disconnected. 

“Maybe not here.” Imogen might point to something, or maybe gestures. Laudna doesn’t see it and doesn’t particularly have the ability to- Air seeps into her lungs, fingers splaying across her jaw and gently pull her lost soul back into her body uncomfortably fast. “But here.” Imogen gently taps the center of her forehead, hand dropping back to her side. 

“Oh.” Is all Laudna can manage to get out. Her brain short circuits watching the almost nervous way Imogen smiles, gap between her teeth barely visible. Is she blushing? If she was it’s hidden away by red circling lights. 

“On me.” Leather clad and strong Imogen begins to slide her fingers under the ones she’d been crushing. With ease she lifts Laudna’s hand away from the faux wood lever. She guides it under her armor to rest over her heart. 

It feels like Laudna’s chest is going to explode. The amount of trust a move like this must take its. Overwhelming. “On you.” She whispers it so quietly it’s swallowed away by the screaming alarm. Not that it matters, Imogen smiles her real genuine smile and nods lightly. 

When a rubber band is pulled to it’s limit there are two outcomes. Laudna just discovered a hidden third option though. The tension can be gently released. Carefully letting the band back to it’s natural resting position unscathed and sitting where it was left. 

Something drastic changes when she feels the thump-thump of Imogen’s heart against the palm of her hand. It’s strong, steady and far more grounding then any pain ever could be. 

Laudna’s breath hitches a little, digs her finger nails just into warm skin. Enough for the both the of them to feel, not enough to leave even the slightest indentation behind. She stares reverently at where her hand has disappeared in a little bit of awe, a lot a bit of feeling tethered to herself, the present. 

Imogen squeezes with the hand she still has over the back of Laudna’s own on her chest. Her free hand comes up holding her jaw again, this time like it’s supposed to stay there. Her thumb skirts back and forth over the apple of Laudna’s cheek and she feels like she can’t breathe. 

“I…when I have time to think, I…” The air in her lungs is gone after only a few words, chest stuttering and lungs uncomfortable. “I don’t think I’m going to be okay.” She laughs with no merit. Grins with no real intention behind it because, well. She isn’t okay now, still can’t feel everything in a normal way. She’s afraid of what it will be like. What she will feel like when it all really sets into her. 

“I would worry far more if you said you would be.” Maybe it’s an accident. The gentle little tug Imogen makes with the hand on her jaw. Red soaked lavender eyes widen surprised at her own actions, even as minute and easily explained away as a gentle tug can be. It gives away that it wasn’t an accident. She meant it, meant to pull her closer. 

Laudna swallows hard. “You worry about me?”  Her gaze stays on those wonderful hardened eyes that soften when they meet her own. She watches Imogen’s pupils expand, small muscles around her face relaxing then re-tensing waiting for Laudna’s reaction to her tipping her hand. 

“Of course I do. Why else would I be standin’ here right now?” The woman of red taken lavenders looks so open. Earnest in her words and. Oh. She’s tugging again, softly and inviting Laudna to do whatever it is she wants.

The woman of the stars opens her mouth. Words catching at the top of her throat and tip of her tongue. She wants to… She doesn’t know what she wants to do. There’s so much swirling around in her head she can’t focus on one thing without bouncing off to the next. 

She does, though, lean ever so slightly forward to make up for her lack of eloquence. Imogen stays still. She doesn’t move one or the other letting Laudna take full point on-

Without either of their prompting the alarm stops. The red light spills back to dull florescent yellow in the literal blink of an eye.

“StarLight!” Imogen is moving into her space, her voice raised to an unnecessary volume startled beyond belief. 

“What!” Laudna panics moving away. Or. Tries to. Imogen’s holding her lower back with a splayed palm while other grabs at her sleeve, her shirt, eyes dropping to the hole in her thigh. 

“You are- Why did you not- How long have you been bleeding like this?” The Grounder Leader is reaching into a bag near her whetstone. She pulls free a roll of off-white linen already unspooling and folding it into a patch. 

“I, a bit I think? I’m fine it doesn’t hurt that badly.” Her words are useless against the wall of force before her. The sleeve of her shirt is torn open and cloth is being wrapped round the wound faster than she can follow. Or maybe she’s lost more blood than she thought and it only looks like Imogen is moving faster then she can think. She get’s a very disapproving look. Something between annoyance and worry. 

“Darling, we have to get to my friends. My people.” She means it. Even if she says the words airily and half detached watching Imogen unabashedly… Watching Imogen’s face flush a pretty red as she lifts the end Laudna’s shirt up to just under ribs.

“I am sure your friends will not want the first sight of you to be you covered in blood. Hold this.” Imogen barely spares her glance as she drops to one knee. She’s glad Imogen is looking at the nasty wound on her side rather than her face. It feels like it’s burning off of her skull. 

As the cloth made it’s way around her waist those heated fingers trail across her skin. She flexes against them instinctually but didn’t ask them to stop. She liked the way they paid attention her. Liked the way they held her in ways they didn’t have to. 

She could tell her to stop. She doesn’t have to let her touch her like this. All longingly and moving across her body like she’s wrapping the final touches of an art piece. 

She could do that. It’s just… She does’t want to. She can actually feel this. Really take it in and, fuck. It feels good to be handled delicately. Preciously as though she were made of glass. It feels amazing to have Imogen on her like this, circumstantial or not.

But gods does she feel so entirely selfish. Her friends have been through awful, horrible things and here she is just. Eating this moment up like it’s her last meal. She’s letting it drone on for as long as the woman on her knee wants to. Let’s it last until eventually the linen around her waist is tied off. 

She can’t bring herself to do or say a single thing, Imogen looking up at her on her from the floor and oh fucking gods. Laudna swears her insides are melting. If there was actual smoke pouring out of her ears she would not be the least surprised. 

“Imog- What are you-?” She tries to move away stopped by a firm hold on back of her thigh. The Grounder Leader has her skirts lifted just above her knees waiting for her to still, to meet her gaze. An impossible task right now. 

“You have a hole in you leg, Starlight. Hold.” Imogen commands lightly and Laudna finds herself moving not thinking twice. It’s now, that she realizes how high up the wound is, fabrics and lace stopped just above her mid thigh. There’s so much of her on display for Imogen to look at if she wants and…

It’s exhilarating, embarrassing, and fuck that selfish feeling sitting heavy in her heart because- God’s fucking- Imogen’s running her finger tips on her skin again. She’s laying as much of her hands down with each pass of linen pressing tighter and tighter on balled up cloth over the bullet hole sitting so high up on thigh. 

The pain of it draws her out of her head enough to actually look at the woman kneeling in front of her. Her eyes are focused only at one spot, face fully out of it’s neutral position and concentrated on the task in her wonderful, warm, hands. It’s entirely enchanting to watch. So enchanting she forgets there are boundaries and reaches a hand into lavender tresses. Nothing untoward. Just slides her fingers against Imogen’s temple then freezes once it registers in her very confused head. Their gazes lock for a brief second. Ah, that’s a tally for her side of the board then. Imogen looks away flushing deliciously pink without saying a word.

“Sorry, I can,” Laudna starts to take her hand back. “I shouldn’tve, without asking.” Her grip on her skirts increases ten fold. 

“It. You don’t have to.” Imogen finishes bandaging up her thigh clearing her throat as she stands to her full height, still shorter than Laudna by a few inches. She’s so flustered she slipped in a contraction. “Be sorry, I mean.” 

“Okay.” A ghost of a word in the molasses thick tension growing between them. Laudna fidgets much more than Imogen. Dancing from foot to foot or smoothing down her blouse. Hands in her hair or teasing it frizzy and half it’s length. 

The Grounder Leader is far more controlled, annoyingly so. She barely does anything beside blink rapidly. Hold her dagger’s handle rather than tap at it’s pummel. It’s a little like feeling undressed, to be in such a disciplined presence. 

“Your friends,” Imogen is the first to shatter the silence. “, You know where to find them?” She’s looking at anything but at Laudna.

“Yes. Sort of, I can gather based on the,” She points to the monitors. “And Memory. I’ve got a pretty good one for directions.” She chuckles unnecessarily immediately regretting it as they head for the bashed-in door.

——

The trek is. Well it’s about as awkward as it can get. They move in silence with a distance between them wasn’t there only hours ago. What’s worse is Laudna taking point, leading to the best of her ability trying not to panic at the fact of who’s following her.

Trying to stay calm with the constant reminder of near silent footsteps and a very skilled navigator a step behind and to the right of her. It’s nerve wracking and nearly takes away her concentration more than a few times almost getting them lost. 

But as always Laudna prevails and she course corrects like she’s walked these halls for years. Really she’s just good at inferring and even better at remembering the little things. Broken light here, scratch on the wall there. If she’s not mistaken the medical ward is in the halls with… Her eyes scan up towards the ceiling. Excitement bubbles up in her chest spotting a double broken set of lights just by a red faded line of paint. 

When she looks to Imogen her face falls a little. Standing a step and half, no, two steps away is Heda. Hard and a seasoned warrior. Definitely not what a bunch of traumatized kids and teens need. 

“StarLight.” She’s halted by a strong hand on her wrist. “You are far too smart to be so foolish.” It’s Heda’s deeper voice, rumbly tone that strikes Laudna’s chest pleasantly. But it’s Imogen’s coy look, teasing words. How confusing for her brain to try and make sense of. Where was their divide? It’s usually so obvious. 

“Everyone should be- Well you saw just as well as I did.” Laudna is itching to go running off to the nearest door. She’s so close to her friends her body is buzzing with need, that guilty little, selfish feeling still sitting in her chest. 

“Emoth is not the type to take an untested serum.” Heda counters losing any sense of the kindness Imogen held. At least it’s easier to tell whose who now. Even if Laudna wishes it was Imogen her friends were meeting. 

“Right. Right, then what we should do? There are so many doors.” Deep dark, tired, eyes scrape up then down both sides of the tunnel. Indents where doors hide line the walls as far as she can make out. 

“You stay behind me-”

“They’re my people Imogen-”

“Do not!” Heda shouts. So much for the whole stealthy route. Who’s being foolish now? “Use that name. That is a private name.” Her voice softens so close to apologetic. She isn’t though. It’s not on her face, not in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry I. I won’t.” Laudna holds her hands up, tenses against the stinging of wounds rubbing on tightly wrapped cloth. This is just Heda needing to be in control, to lead. Laudna is more than willing to give it to her, it is her name and after all. Names hold power no matter if she’s on Whitestone or Exandria. 

“Promise.” She adds to curious flicks over her body reading her very essence. She knows for a fact there is no doubt to be seen on her anywhere. She means it with her whole heart. 

Heda sighs heavily. “On-”

“You.” Laudna finishes with a nod and grin so genuine it pierced through the stone encapsulating Imogen. It pulls the smallest little quirk to Heda’s lips vanishing faster than it appeared. 

The Grounder Leader moves in front of Laudna drawing her dagger. She does it nice and slow letting the metal of her blade sing against its leather sheath on her thigh. It makes a sort of, pulsey, tangy, feeling course through Laudna’s body, one she’ll push off for later. After the trauma hits and after she spends a few hours having and recovering from a panic attack. 

Heda stops pressing against the stone wall of the closest door, eyes having already scanned the room perfectly parallel them through the small door window. She looks to Laudna then leans just enough to scan the room next to them. 

An eternity passes. Long and so incredibly quick it’s it’s own paradox. It makes the woman of the stars so explicably antsy she can’t stop her hand from petting through her hair. She just wants to get to her friends, if this how they’re going to open every single damn door then. Then fuck. She’s going to actually lose her mind. She has half a mind to just say fuck it all and kick in every single door. 

The better half of her mind tells her how dumb signing an early death warrant would be. Heda is light years faster than her anyway. Half a step out of the proverbial line and she’d end up slammed into the wall behind her with a very stern talking to…

“Follow.” Heda growls out low. Eyebrow pointedly raised from her position half through the opened door. Laudna shakes herself out of her half aware state. 

“Following.” She says back moving past a woman of lavenders and stone. Her heart pounds as she all buts barrels in, hobbles is a far better term really. In both relief and disappointment her chest and face feel different emotions. 

Her face raises practiced and gentle for the boy, brown hair and mousy face, staring at her shocked. Confused. Then tears well in his bright grey eyes. Her chest though, aches. As much as she cares for everyone she was hoping she’d find Ashton, Chetney, or Letters. As awful of her as that is to say, or think anyway. It’s the truth.

“Laudna! Oh my fucking gods, did you?” He tries to get off of the red stained bed he had been laying face down on. She runs to catch him as his body buckles beneath his weight. He points to a woman dressed in scrubs, her body covered in blisters and burns just like rest of The Mountain people. 

Her stomach twists. “Yeah. Yes. Yes that was me.” She traces his suddenly terrified grey eyes over her shoulder. “Oh! This is,” She almost slips.

“Heda.” The warrior leader glares. 

“She’s,” What a wonderful time to put a name to their relationship. They have a relationship don’t they? “She’s a very powerful ally. She won’t hurt you. Will she?” Laudna carefully removes herself from the boy feeling him get his footing. She pointedly turns to the warrior and glares back, hers holding no where near the amount of force as Heda.

“If it is necessary then I will not hesitate.” Heda flexes her grip on her rapier. To anyone else she’s as intimidating as an ancient Tarask. But Laudna knows there’s nothing actually behind her words. Her face is neutral, not angry. Her eyes are hard, not murderous. And most telling of all, she’s holding her rapier. Her least favored weapon. 

Her words are enough to have the boy shaking where he stands. His head looks fake with how hard he’s nodding, mumbling out assurances that force will in fact not be needed. Laudna helps him skirt past Heda, who still hangs in the doorway, and puts herself between the two of them. 

“The other room is clear?” Laudna asks to the woman glowering at her side. She get’s a nod. “Why don’t you go,” She says to the boy. “, If we spilt up we can get to everyone faster. Oh! You wouldn’t happen to know if anyone, oh I don’t know. Took a serum that made them invulnerable to radiation?” She’s putting up a facade to ease the tense air. She smiles like she isn’t crumbling and she gesticulates like her body isn’t one giant ache. 

“I-I don’t know. They didn’t really talk they just. Drilled into us and took what they wanted.” The mousy boy looks nervously to a very uncaring Heda misreading her wildly. 

“Well, that’s alright. It was a long shot anyway.” The leader of the space people pats the boys shoulder twice. “On with it then. We’re going to make sure the rest of the rooms are safe and all that.” She gently pushes the wobbly kid across the large tunnel waiting for him to enter the room. The second he’s gone from sight her smiles falls and she turns harshly to Heda. 

“Can you ease up a little?” Hands on her hips she raises an accusatory eyebrow. 

“This is me ‘eased up.’” Heda rolls back straightening her posture. Of course it is. Laudna already knew that. She rolls her eyes heavily. 

“Then do it better! They’re hurt and traumatized kids. They don’t need you being scary!” There is no malice in her tone. Just a desperation. 

“Scary?” Heda bristles, her face dropping to actually scary look. 

“Yes. Scary-scary. Try to be… Fun scary!” Her hands are waving in the air between them trying to press a point she’s not sure about either. So far Heda has two modes. Hard-ass and murder warrior queen. Three modes if she adds in Scary. 

“Fun? Scary.” The warrior queen looks positively puzzled. Like she had no idea what the word fun meant, let alone paired with a word like scary. It was cute to watch about a hundred micro expression run across her stoic features before stone over took them again. 

“Yes just-” The boy was leaving the room he entered.  A girl with tangled blonde hair and brown eyes at his side leaning against him. “Try, please.” She looks into those hard eyes pleading for Imogen to hear her. 

“Tell anyone about this bend to your little plight and it’s your tongue.” Heda grabs her by the collar of her shirt clearly going for intimidating, probably for the two teens starring at them from an open doorway. It is intimidating. Scary even. Scary’s never really been a problem for Laudna though.

“You were the most fearsome thing anyone had ever seen.” Breathlessly Laudna nods her head swallowing down on nothing. Her throat feel stoppered despite nothing being present, it’s uncomfortable in a way she doesn’t hate. 

Heda let’s her go. Glares at the kids much softer than she had been. She nods towards the rest of the rooms taking charge as easy as breathing.

——

It’s about half way down when Launda’s comforting an absolute wreck of a teen. She’s patting their back and whispering out affirmations when she’s jolted from the edge bed by a sound so loud her body assumes it’s an explosion. 

“Letters! Letters where the fuck are you!” So explosion-like then. A familiar voice has Laudna on her feet sprinting out of the room forgetting about the blubbering kid entirely. “Letters! Thank fucking gods. Fuck.” At the same time Laudna rushes from her room she watches a random boy help Letters from two rooms down. They still have their walking aids, though they look far more fragile than they did the night she left. 

“Oh shit! Laudna!” A crotchety old voice yells echoing down the halls pulling the attention of the crowd that hadn’t noticed her yet. Which means those kids are just now noticing Heda as well, she never was more than a few steps away. A looming lavender shadow constantly at her right. 

Some of them react far more than others. Faces and bodies running, falling to the ground or plain ole freezing in place. They’re second fiddle to the surge of emotion rising in Laudna’s body. She scans for her friends then runs. She tears as fast as she can get herself to move, backs of her hands wiping her eyes as a smile wider then The Mountain itself spreads over her face. 

And then she’s crashing backwards into Imogen’s solid body. Ashton’s hand is outstretched and their face seethes with anger. For a long second he just breathes staring between Laudna and the force behind her. 

She quickly shakes off her stun, hand flying back on instinct to stop the unsheathing of a thin double edged sword, ornate handle cool against her palm. Eyes darting over her shoulder no longer than a second she tells Heda to stop. 

“Fuck you.” Ashton stands up. Their hands out to take a shocked Letters to their side. 

“Whoah! Ashton. Give her a chance to talk.” Chetney’s usually so gentle gaze takes on an icy hardness. “And she should. She should talk fast and explain herself.” His voice’s kindness does not match the hurt on his face.

“I didn’t plan on leaving.” Laudna says after taking moment to gather the air she lost from Ashton’s shove. In almost one breath she gives the footnotes version of her very long and lengthy story. She leaves out a few more intimate details, like hair braiding, wound caring, and forest executions. Pushes on how hard she worked to her back to everyone. To make sure everyone was safe. 

Most of the faces nod along. Most of the faces understand while others… Seem harder to convince. They seem far less interested in the fact she fought tooth and nail to get there and far more focused on the fact she’d been missing for the last week. 

“I didn’t plan on leaving.” She says again with a gentleness of a mother. Is this what her mother would sound like when she spoke like this? Did her voice have the same effect on these horrific kids and her mother did for her? 

“You certainly had a hell of a time didn’t you?” On the side of the unconvinced Ashton nearly spits his words at her. “Travel for days. Galavant around and you get a fucking guard dog.” Their eyes shoot to Heda. 

“She is not my guard dog.” Lauren moves forward into her friend’s space. Her heckles rise faster and further than she can control. “And I would hardly call constant fighting, dredging, and running galavanting. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry I was forced to flee, and I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.” She feels heat building in her chest. Feels like she’s floating up out of her body, not fully in control until- 

A hand. Hot and steady lays subtly in the middle of her lower back. Instantly she flies back into herself. Can feel the tingle in her fingers and toes drift away and she takes a step back from her friends face. The fabric of her shirt bunches with Heda’s tightening grip. Her tethering herself to Laudna is just as much for her sake too, then? 

Laudna just gives her a glance. Barely actually looks over her shoulder watching as Lavender eyes dart around taking in the sheer number of people surrounding them. She could easily wipe them all out, rapier and dagger already dipped in blood. She could just as easily get overrun by petulant hands that only know to survive. 

For a moment Laudna catches those darting eyes. She pours her assurances into that second. She tells her without words that nothing will happen. There will be no bloodshed, not while she’s there acting as a double sided shield. 

Then she looks way. She looks back to her friends, glances the crowd of worried, angry, scared, young faces. Inhaling deeply, steeling her nerves, she notices instantly, the air in The Mountain doesn’t feel so crisp anymore. 

“Let’s not pretend my absence is all a bad thing.” Much more calmly she relaxes her tensed up body. “If I had been here how do you suggest we would’ve escaped?” She raises an eyebrow waiting for a response from anyone listening. “You have a right to be upset with me. But do not pretend my coming back with an army and allies is a soft feat.” There’s a long stretch of silence. It’s thin, wired, and fragile. Someone sniffles a little to loud and all heads whip to look at the kid who looks around terrified eyes. 

Ashton hasn’t looked away from Laudna and she returns his stare without flinching. She’s gotten far more practice in staring contests with far greater opponents. Ashton’s rage is nothing compared to the ire of a Commander. 

“We’re all feelin’ a lot of big feelings right now.” It’s Letter’s who finally breaks through the barrier of silence roiling through the crowd like water to rocks. “We should all take a moment to breathe, really process our emotions.” They shift a bit on their walking aids, big blue eyes looking around extremely hopeful. 

“Oh my fucking gods.” Ashton snickers, grins, then starts to laugh. “This must be like doing a line to you isn’t it?” Their shoulders shake, laughter bubbling up like they can’t hold it back. 

“I! I… Yeah it- it kinda is.” Letter’s tries to hold down their smile. Tries to hold in his own chuckles. Their bright sapphire eyes meet Ashtons duller ones and they break out into giggles as well. It’s sound catches a few of the near by people. Their laughter spreading to more and more until everyone is either crying, laughing, or just happy to be alive and no longer part of a bone marrow farm. 

The change in atmosphere is so jarring, so… unhingedly joyous that Laudna can’t help but stare. Ironically and sickeningly these are the happiest looks she’s seen in years. Here. In they horrible place where horrible things happen to innocent people… There is happiness. 

Heda’s grip on her increases. Her looming presence sneaks closer nearly flush up against Laudna’s back. “You have done extremely well.” Her voice is honey sweet and dipped in sugar. 

“Thank you.” The woman of the stars feels something dislodge in her chest. A single tears falls down her cheek and… fuck. When her mind processes this whole situation she’s going to be so screwed. There’s no amount of boxes she can created, no amount of separation practice she can do to untwine hurt and warmth.

Chapter Text

“So where are we supposed to go?” Ashton stands at the front line of a loose circle, all of the space kids either sitting on the floor or leaning against the tunnel walls. 

“The drop ship?” One of the older kids asks. Their face grimaces as they shift from foot to foot. 

“Don’t be a fucking idiot.” Andy rolls his eyes, crosses his arms over his chest. Half the circle tenses, half look directly to Laudna to gauge her reaction. For the most part, she’s just been playing mediator. Stopping arguments here. Finishing fights there. It’s terrifying to have so many lives dancing on her palms. So many faces sitting in her head and trying to hold onto her like she’s the gatherer of lost souls leading them to paradise.  

“Don’t be such an ass, Andy.” She says in lieu of actually answering because. Well. She hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that little question. Where are they going to go? Or, they. As in without her they. If she’s given the chance she’d go with Imogen. If her people can get it together without her, decide on a different person to hold onto and drag along with. 

So far not a single person has emerged. They’ve been going around and around slowly forming this odd little circle. Her chances of being able to split off are zero and it’s ripping her chest in half. 

“Go fuck yourself deserter.” Andy posts up. Squares his body and flexes his… well he’s got more muscle than Laudna does. 

“Real mature.” Chetney raises his own heckles. Moves forward pulling out his chisels. How in the fucking world he still has those, or how the hell he found them without anyone noticing his disappearance is a mystery she’ll ask about later. 

“It’s fine.” Without looking over her shoulder Laudna whispers while tensions rise in her people. She slyly moves her hands behind her back, disguises the movement as her just taking an authoritative stance. Her fingers slide over Heda’s, leather clad and still gripping the back of her blood stained shirt. 

The Commander’s anxiousness is more than palpable. It’s in the very air around the two of them. A respectful distance from the space dwellers did nothing to quell the thick aura pouring off of her stoic self. She knows Heda’s seconds from pulling her favored weapon, her hands have gone completely still. The one that had been tapping on her rapier replaced the one holding her shirt. She switched to her dominate hand, her dagger, to hold instead. 

“The drop ship isn’t safe.” Laudna says blowing over Andy’s BS and trying to keep tensions from rising. “At least not how it is.” She adds watching dozens of faces fall at her words. It makes her stomach list, but she’s an expert poker faces. “We,” She hates saying that. Hates how it feels in her mouth. Hates the guilt that rises up with it, her people need her after all. 

“We can go back, build a shelter out of it, or use it for parts.” She’s making aimless suggestions. Does’t want to say anything solid. There isn’t a solid to begin with. They’re in danger, they will be in danger. 

Silence follows. Wheels turning in about a hundred different heads. Incredibly warm fingers tighten around her own. Silently ask her to hurry, or at least come up with an actual idea. She gives a small shake in response. An unspoken ‘soon.’ 

Heda leans into Laudna’s space. “I can offer my assistance.” Her voice is ghost along the canal of her ear. Heavy and smooth her words rumbled into Laudna’s head very, very welcomely.

“Assistance?” Laudna’s heart storms. 

“In exchange for saving my people, I can offer to help yours.” Heda flattens her hand against Laudna’s lower back and it feels like the world has stopped. She tenses into it relaxes when fingertips dig into her skin. She let’s out a shaky breath then steels her voice. 

“What if we stay here?” Pretty beats her to the punch. Every single head in the room whips to look at the large, lumbering boy. His face flushes as Laudna’s blanches. “I mean. It’s empty right? And it’s got all the things we’ll need until we figure out how to run it, right?” He fidgets uncomfortably where he stands. 

Before anyone can comment Heda speaks. “I offer a place in my ranks.” The Commander’s voice is a thunder strike. It booms making everyone, except for Laudna, jump. “We are efficient, and far safer than a hole in the ground.” She moves from behind Laudna to her side, hands untangling without fight. “We are leaving now. Come if you wish. Stay if you want. The offer ends the moment I cross the Mountain’s threshold.” She steps with purpose back the way they came. 

Laudna watches her unexpected slow step. In Heda terms she’s pretty much crawling, even if her steps are wide it’s all for show. She turns her gaze to her very conflicted people and finally releases her steeled breath. 

“I know you’re mistrusting in me, and that’s fine. I have nothing but your best interest in mind. I want us all to survive. More than that. I want us all to live.” Her voice carries with it the weight of a leader. “I want us to experience life, ones we never could up on Whitestone.” She’s got dozens of faces trained on her. 

A couple dozen, around twenty five to thirty by a rough count, are choosing not to look at her. She let’s that deep feeling sit on her shoulders. From one hundred to seventy then. 

“I’m going with her.” She braces against gaps and gawking faces. “I’ve seen their numbers. They have a functioning city. I like our chances with them far better than I do on our own.” She doesn’t move despite her body screaming at her to run. “Come if you wish, or stay. I promise to do whatever I can to help.” She turns, catches well over half the population of space dwellers begin to follow without question. 

She doesn’t run to catch up with Heda. Just steps knowing The Commander will wait for her to catch up. She doesn’t run, her hand caught by a larger meaty one. Ashton is beside her, she doesn’t have to look. She doesn’t have to look to know Letters is with him and then her other hand is captured by a smaller, very calloused wrinkly one.

——

They travel for as long as the injured are able. Which is a lot farther with Heda helming the way. Exandria as a whole answers The Commander’s call. They need an easier terrain? The thicket thins. The injured having a difficult time traversing an incline? They spot a patch of wild berries and everyone pauses to gorge, much to Heda’s annoyance but even she knows when and when not to argue.

Laudna watches her. Heda leans against a tree, hands on her rapier and limp at her side. She’s beautiful. Blessed with the side profile of an actual goddess. Golden sunlight flowing around her so much like the silvered rays of Catha. It sings through her hair as it gently blows in warm forests breezes. Her eyes glow in the dark, it’s a fact Laudna knows extremely well. Now? Oh those lavender eyes shine. Gold sweeps through each and every crevice in vibrant iris’ bringing to life a breath-taking ethereal lavender storm. 

“If you stare any harder you’re going to start her on fire.” A voice and presence appear behind her. 

“Fuck!” Laudna jumps away form the tree she’d been using as a crutch. Her thigh screams and she falls to the ground with a hand on her heart. The trees above her look a thousand times taller from the ground. The packed dirt feels, familiar, in a way that slows her pounding heart. Well. That and the sweaty familiar face of Ashton leaning over her. He extends his hand, the other crossed over their chest bouncing with each rumble of laughter. She takes their hand and let’s herself get hoisted all the way to her feet. 

“What. The. Fuck.” She whisper shouts at him, arms going wild as she gesticulates. 

“First, wanna tell your, whatever- to back off?” He points over her shoulder to a very mistrusting, and very much glaring Heda. She could look over her shoulder. Could give The Commander the all good. But Ashton is an ass and seeing them a little nervous is making her a little happy. She crosses her arms. Stays on her not inured leg and raises an eyebrow.

Ashton sighs. “Got it.” They smile with just a hint of rueful. “Look. I just. Wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have shoved you and I- Fuck of course I know you wouldn’t have left if you had a choice.” He stands very still for a very long time only barely looking her in the eyes. 

“It’s alright Ashton, really. I get it. I would’ve been pissed too.” She puts her hand on his shoulder. There’s an unspoken understanding between them, she too lashes out when she’s angry. And all things considered… Right now a petty argument is at the bottom of her tier list. “Bygones, promise.” She squeezes their shoulder and smiles, a little tightly. 

“Well. Since we’re back to being best friends forever…” They trail and Laudna knows exactly where this is going. 

“BFF’s? Us? Since when?” She smiles coyly. They had been friends, not best the way He and Letter’s are, but they had been friends. Close, and shared more than their fair share of arguments. 

“Since I saved your ass from getting detention at seven.” He laughs heartily and Laudna feels one hundred times lighter. “Now, what’s going on with your girlfriend over there?” He points and her eyes go wide. 

“She’s not! Not my- She’s-” She flounders. Her face starts to melt off. She’s sure of it, based on how fucking hot it is all of a sudden. 

“She’s what then? Cause your drooling over her is embarrassing.” Ashton brushes a hand over their hair, makes a face at how mussed it is, then playfully pushes her. 

“I am not drooling.” Laudna glares. 

“Your face says otherwise. Hey, is Heda-” She’s already turning around. “Not drooling my fucking ass.” Ashton’s laughter stops when Laudna turns around slowly. Body creaking like a heavy door on weak hinges. 

“Run.” She growls, fingers tight and twitching at her side. 

“I’m not going because I want to, I’m genuinely scared. Very impressed. Good work…” He’s backing away with a shit eating grin back over to Chetney. Chetney makes a face, glares at Laudna, then fumbles while working on piece of wood he acquired at some point in their journey. 

She turns away. Leans with her back against the trunk behind her and sighs out heavily. She doesn’t even know what to call the relationship between her and Imogen, let alone her and Heda. There has to be something there right? But what could it be called? She would like to call them more than allies. Friends? Gods calling Imogen her friend would be…

It would be everything. She doesn’t know what she would’ve done if Heda hadn’t offered a place. 

That’s not true. 

She would’ve gone with her people, friends. Would’ve spent nights yearning and days figuring out the hard stuff. In all honesty she’s known Heda longer than all but one or two of the people she fell with. 

Her eyes scan across the crowd of people lounging, eating, sharing. Just being in a world they know nothing about just yet. They all look so much more haggard than the last time she saw them all. Tired bags under their eyes, somehow even thinner and moving far slower. 

She sighs again looking straight forward. The wind blows her hair in front of her face, she throws it all over her shoulder and plays with the ends. Her life’s become so fucked, and that’s saying something considering all the everything. 

She feels someone looking at her. Flicks her gaze to the side, meets those golden soaked lavender eyes and. Her thoughts cease, at least for now. She smiles a little getting a neutral face back. 

Heda has been all about the eyes anyway. 

——

The Spires of Jrusar appear on the horizon. They’re so close and yet. So fucking far. Gods they’re so fucking far away and- fucking hell if she has to stop one more argument. If she has to raise her voice, or yell, scream over dozens of children all complaining… 

She’s going to lose her mind. It’s been almost four days. Four. Days. Because gods forbid the kids get along for more than a few hours at a time. They should’ve been back a day and a half ago. Should’ve. But noooo. All anyone can focus on is being hungry, or tired, or how much further? 

Laudna’s glad it’s finally passed dusk. Glad for the stars over head and Catha bathing everything in a silver light. It’s nice, at night time. It’s quiet. Only the sounds of the forest and the occasional snore break through much needed silence. 

She sighs. Looks to Chetney whose whittling away across the campsite. They have so many people to watch it’s just easier to divide and conquer. He gives a nod, glances to Ashton, looks back and nods the all good. 

One nice thing about being so strung out, stretched in every which direction, she hasn’t had the time to think. Hasn’t had the time to really try and put words to things she can’t. 

Like her relationship with Imogen, and subsequently Heda. Or all the things she’s had to do to get here. Letting a family get massacred… massacring hundreds of people herself. Getting shot. That fucking sucked. Having re-dress the wounds herself? That also sucked. Not just because it’s hard but because… Well. 

Her eyes move up from her twiddling fingers, a thread picked off of her shirt tangled between them. She turns her head to glance around the tree she’s leaning back against. Sitting a ways off is her current constant thought. Lavender. Eyes glowing. Silver shadows and staring at the sky above them. 

Laudna’s heart begins to beat. Really beat. Fast and hard and so so foreign. She has so little context for this feeling. Of course she’s heard stories, read stories. Even wrote a few since she had. 

Well free time probably isn’t the best way to describe the down times between torture sessions but, it works anyway. Still. The warmth in her chest and the need, want? Need. To go over to where Imo- Heda. Heda. Sits alone.

She looks up to Chetney who is already looking back at her and holds up eight fingers. One for each time in the last few minuets she’s turned around. She rolls her eyes at him. 

“Just go!” The old man mouths waving in his hands in a shooing motion. She flexes her hands into the very ruined fabric of her skirt. 

“Drooling.” Ashton mouths from his spot laughing at the scowl he gets. “Go. We,” He motions to Chetney. “, Got this.” His hands sweeps over the sea of sleeping kids. 

Laudna swallows hard at the loss of her biggest excuse to stay sitting down. What is she even supposed to say? ‘Hey there. Thanks for letting my people stay with yours cause the thought of being away from you makes my spin.’ That’d quite literally be the death of her. The final nail in her already closed coffin. 

She should thank her though. Between wrangling, fending off wild life, and trying to keep everyone alive there just hasn’t been time for them. To talk! Time for them to talk. Now is better than never, what with the Spires being so close and all. She musters up the courage. Stands. And makes it over to Heda without tripping. 

“I wondered how many more times you were going to look at me.” The southern twang and honey sweet drawl force Laudna to pause where she stands. Imogen stares at her patting the ground directly beside her. “Making sure I didn’t run, StarLight?” Imogen teases as Laudna sits right where she was invited to. It’s so close their thighs touch. 

Laudna flushes choosing to duck behind her hair and voice eye contact. “More like a reality check.” Her hands lay in her lap playing with the thread from her shirt. “And, I was trying to figure out how to say thank you. For extending your hand the way you have. So, thank you.” She leans into Imogen’s space using her index finger to brush her hair behind the shell of her ear. “Imogen.” She whispers it on the very last little bit of air she has intentionally letting it all go from her lungs. Intentionally making sure only the intended recipient would hear it. 

“I would do most anything to keep you close.” Imogen smirks turning in their extremely limited space to face her. Laudna feels like her heart is about to explode. “Since you are such a good ally and all, takin’ out the whole mountain in seconds compared to the eons it took me.” And then her heart feels like it’s breaking. So just ally then. She’s being kept close because it’s strategic. Not because Imogen needs her the way she- 

“Right.” Laudna moves out of the charged area around them. Breaks the bubble of high tension and dancing eyes. “It’s smart to keep us close then. To keep an eye on.” She bites the inside of her cheek going back to tangling thread. “Wouldn’t want to be seen as a threat to Heda.” It’s mostly meant for herself. She ignores the look on Imogen’s face. 

“I will be honest.” Imogen puts a hand on Laudna’s jaw. Pulls her from her absent worrying. It takes more will power than she ever used back on Whitestone to stop the embracing whine at the top of her throat. “I have no fear of your people.” Imogen takes her bottom lip between her teeth. “You, though. Terrify me.” Her thumb starts to run a constant back and forth on Laudna’s increasingly hot cheek. 

“I-I do? I- Why? You’re so. And I’m just…” Laudna is merely a lump of clay being sculpted by Imogen’s hands, her words. She is nothing but a stuttering flushed mess hiding beneath the exterior of a body. A body she suddenly has no idea what to so with. What is she supposed to do with her hands? Should she still be looking at Imogen’s mouth? Where the hell is she supposed to be looking?

“You dance with death the way I wield a weapon.” Imogen is moving closer. Laying a hand on her thigh and leaning jus like she did back in the mountain. “You are a force to be reckoned with.” She’s stopped. She’s waiting. Laudna stares like an idiot for a beat to long. Imogen’s hand moves on her thigh and she can’t stop the wince that follows. 

It has both of them jumping apart like teenagers caught with their shirts off. Imogen is fumbling with apologies and Laudna can only sort of tell she’s being reassuring. The backs of her eyes burn a little, her heart feels like it’s actually going to break out of her rib cage. 

They sit shoulder to shoulder. Awkwardly and in silence. At least Laudna has something new to think about. Over. And over. And over. And over.

——

By the time they get back to Jrusar it’s early afternoon. Heda has a few of her trusted, Dorian, Orym, and someone Laudna does’t know, lead her people somewhere to stay. She’s about to go with when she’s stopped by a gloved hand on her arm. 

“I need you.” Heda rolls out low and intimidating. Laudna’s hope fly to the sky. “There will be a meeting. It will not be fun and it will not be pleasant.” Heda turns on her heel towards her building. “Bring your second. The sooner the better.” And then she’s gone leaving Laudna floundering. 

Who the fuck is her second?

Chapter Text

She’s glad she’s not the only one huffing and puffing up the hundreds of stairs to the war room. The shorter old man at her side is trying desperately to appear unbothered by the trek endlessly up. He leans against the wall holding his side and giving a thumbs up at Laudna’s raised eyebrow. 

“I told you it was a climb and a half.” She chuckles a bit at his terrible lying and half uttered ‘it’s fines’ at her slight teasing. 

“A climb and a half!? We might as well be up with the Gods!” Chetney yells, voice breaking. His old man demeanor a very welcome change in pace from the everything in her life. 

“It’s not your time yet, old-timer.” She puts a hand on his shoulder. “When we go in there, just please-”

“Yeah yeah. Be quiet and don’t make enemies. Especially!” He cuts her off standing with a cacophony of pops in his spine. “Heda. I know, Laudna. I’m bold not stupid.” He gives her a little smile and only some of the mounting anxiety in her chest ebbs. “Besides. Wouldn’t want to ruin things between you and your girlfriend.” He pushing open the ornate, gold filigree doors. 

“She’s! Why does everyone….” She mumbles to herself following after her older companion. Instantly lavender eyes meet hers. Heda sits in her throne looking the most uneased Laudna’s seen her. 

They’re the first two there. The only difference from the last time she was here is the professionally, expertly, crafted and lacquered war table now sits in the middle of the large room. It’s surrounded by seven seats. Three on one side, four on the other,  and one taller fancy chair at it’s head. 

“Hh-oh my~” Chetney whispers into the air. His eyes are both as wide as saucers and half lidded in what can only be described as…. Old man horniness. His need to touch is obvious. It looks like he’s going to explode in a visceral boom of- bodily fluids… 

Laudna holds eye contact with a very openly bewildered Heda. Her carefully crafted neutrality has been forgotten, lost to the whims of Chetney Pock O’Pea. Laudna tries to tamp down the smile scraping at her lips. Heda does the same, just the corners of her mouth quirking up before she remembers who she is. 

“He has a thing for wood.” Laudna speaks with just the slightest bit of laughing timber. “Can he. Uh. Inspect? It?” She feels no need to hide her utter lack of assurance. 

About a hundred different things fly through Heda’s eyes. She looks between Laudna and her chosen second.“One nick in that table and I’ll take your entire hand.” Heda stays seated in her throne raising a hand to motion Laudna forward. 

The woman of the stars looks to the old man looking up at her like a kid on Winterscrest. “She will actually take your hand. That’s not an empty threat.” The seriousness in her tone makes Chetney scoff at her. A small noise that catches her off guard. 

“As if I would ever dream of ruining something so,” He moves toward the dark sleek table like it’s a scared animal. As if it can run if he approaches too fast. “So beautiful~” His finger tips brush the top of the table. He jumps back like it’s made of flame. Like he isn’t worthy to be touching something so delicate. 

He leans his body across the top of the table. Caresses it. Feels it making noises Laudna definitely doesn’t want to hear from him for the first time in her life. 

“Your choice in company is.” Heda speaks in a low voice. More than a whisper but not for Chetney to pay attention to. 

“I swear he’s normally much more… Actually. This is pretty accurate.” Laudna finds herself dancing between resigned to her fate and a little embarrassed. Maybe Ashton would’ve… No. No He’d pick a fight and end up dead. Letter’s would try to therapy everyone. And end up dead. 

Chetney is smart. Good at crowds and knows when and when not to push… Also really likes, loves, lusts, after wood… The amount of cheap jokes she’s going to throw at him later. 

“He better listen then.” Heda raises her voice. Chetney, still all over the table, gives her his attention. Most of it, anyway. “This meeting has been planned far longer than you have been here. It is pure happenstance you fell when you did.” What little humanity was in Heda’s eyes fades. She stands holding her dagger’s handle and moves to the head seat of the table. 

“This is one of the most important meetings I hold. It is called the meeting of the Conclaves.” Heda looms over the seat meant for her. A hundred questions sit in Laudna’s head. The look in lavender eyes tells her her tongue will be on line yet again. For the third time if she’s remembering correctly? Well three times a charm after all… 

“Each of the six Conclave heads will be here. They are. Not happy with you.” Heda looks at Laudna as blankly as the last time they were here. It sends shivers down the space woman’s spine. “They are coming to debate what to do with all of you. Some want you exiled. Most want you dead. You are here to defend yourself. I have already done all I can without staking myself.” Heda sighs out heavily moving to the chair on the left of her own. Her dominate side, Luanda notes very importantly. 

“You,” She points to Chetney. “Will stand here.” She points vaguely to a spot at the lesser chairs side. “Hold this spot until everyone arrives. It is customary for The Heads to mingle, however I do not recommend you approach anyone.” She keeps her gaze locked with Laudna. “Stay close. The only thing that keeps them in line is my ire.” She doesn’t reach to touch. Doesn’t relax or show any sort of emotion besides seriousness. “Understand?” Her hardened eyes move to each space dweller.

“Wait for a bunch of powerful people. Talk only if talked to. Then try to convince said powerful people not to kill us all. Simple.” Will she ever get a break? Laudna leans forward until she’s got both of her palms on the table. It feels like everything is so far out of her reach. Everything is so far out of her reach. She looks over to find Heda staring her like she’s waiting for more. Laudna smiles a small, terse, thing. “And stay close.” She adds quietly. 

Heda nods. Then sharply turns going back to her throne perching there. She would probably stare longer if Chetney wasn’t coming back to himself. He slides off the table sniffling a few times, more than likely trying to keep the deep hidden scents of varnish in his nostrils. He comes up to her standing where Heda had pointed to and takes one of Laudna’s hands from the table. 

“Are you going to be okay?” He asks her softly. Caringly. “This is a lot to deal with.” He squeezes her hand and it’s hinging on enough to make her break out into tears.

“Yeah.” Her voice is high and breaks without her say so. “I’ll be alright. Nothing I can’t handle. Besides if I can’t, it won’t matter will it?” She tries to joke. It falls as flat as her voice is. Chetney gives her a pity smile and soft words of encouragement. They fall on deaf ears and eventually the old croaking voice stops. 

——

It’s after hours of tense silence, pacing, and constant thinking that the war room door opens. Laudna stops half way back to her seat from the wall behind it. It’s hard not to openly stare and gawk at the person who enters. 

They are dressed in a fine looking corseted black top. The chest opens all the way down to the top of the gold trimmed corset, sleeves hidden under a tight-to-the-arms black and gold embodied cloak. It’s shoulders point up where the rest flows down round them with every step they take. The pants they wear are a tight black leather to match their mid-thigh high black leather boots, the heels pushing them a good few inches over Laudna’s height. 

Their hair is silvery white, irises and pupils nearly the same color. They don’t stop their approach until they stand directly in front of Laudna very unabashedly looking her up, and down, and up again grinning slyly. 

“Yu Suffiad. Stand in for the Head of the Unseelie.” They extend their hand and Laudna nearly forgets her manners. 

“Laudna, no last name. Head of the Sky people.” Space people. But who’s keeping track? She tries to retract her hand. Can’t when Yu tightens their hold on her fingers and brings the back of her knuckles to their lips.  

“My pleasure, Laudna with no last name. Tell me, are all Sky People so beautiful? Or are you just lucky?” They smile a coy little thing and Laudna feels her face go red. Tries to hide behind her hair thwarted by a hand, just on the grey side- an effect of radiation?- brushing her hair behind her ear. “So just lucky then?” Yu moves close to her. 

“I wouldn’t say so.” Laudna moves a step back. Takes her hand away and untucks her hair. 

“I would.” Yu is back in her space. They keep their hands to themselves but follows her back stepping until she’s pressed against the war table. “I would say you’re very lucky, Laudna~” They twist some of her hair, the streak of white, around their finger. 

“I-” She tries to find something to say. “Thanks, but. I’m here to stop the execution of my people.” She brings her hand up and gently lowers Yu’s. The last thing she needs is to loose her focus. She’s made so many arguments and counter arguments in her head. It’s hard to keep everything up there straight right now. 

“I see.” Yu back’s off. Still all coy smiles and flashy words. “Then consider me an ally, for now. It would be such a shame to loose you before you get to know me.” They kiss their fingers then press them to Laudna’s cheek. “Dusk.” They turn to a much shorter person. Dressed in autumn colors, hair brown and cropped. “Hold this seat for me.” Yu squeezes the back of the chair right next to Laudna’s. Dusk nods. Stands at the chair and get’s to chatting with Chetney. 

Laudna watches Yu cross the room. Leans against the wall with their arms crossed and throws her a wink. She flushes then looks over to Heda. 

The Commander is staring with murderous intent. Features tight and nothing but rage. Even in her eyes, all the way back to where Imogen usually hides in cracks or crevices. 

And for a second. Just a split, blink and it’s gone second. They look like they sheen in red. 

——

Soon after there are sixteen total people in the room. The Heads of Issylara, Wildemount, Marquet, Tal’Dorei, the Unseelie, and someone who calls herself Ruidian, have taken their seats. Their seconds stand behind them, all except for the Ruidian stand in. Her decision to come alone seems to make everyone uneasy. Heads and seconds sharing looks between one another, silent nods and acknowledgments shared round the room. 

Chetney looks to Laudna who only shrugs subtly. Like she knows what the fuck is going on right now. She has no idea what the fuck is going on right now. The sheer amount of power flowing through the room makes her feel about two inches tall. Makes her feel overwhelmed and she knows the second the stampede focuses her she’s down for. She’s barely balancing everything as it is. 

At the head of the table sits Heda. Flanking her are Orym and Fearne. She takes a heavy breath in, greets everyone and starts with what seems are rehearsed topics of discussion. 

Land wars here, in need of help there, vague passive aggressive comments thrown around by each Head. Some are far more clever than others, holding weight even Laudna can see as an outsider just watching the Conclave Heads go at it. 

She watches them extremely carefully. She can sense Chetney doing the same, mentally noting who hates who and who seems far more sympathetic and understanding than others. Wildemount has a long standing beef with Issylra. Issylra tried to take them over and failed, nearly half a century ago but the feud is still there. 

Tal’dorei seems to be the peace holder. They have ties to everyone. Laudna decides then and there to watch the fuck out of them. If they have allies in every single part of the world and then some, it’s be a fucking fools errand to make an enemy of them. Definitely on the smart side not to end up owing them a favor either. Gods only know what the Hells they’re capable of. 

Wildemount seems to be friends to all and friends to none. No one is actively trying to hurt them, but no one jumping for their attention either. A very solid middle ground, if this were a democracy they’d probably be the sway vote. Or the abstainers depending. They’d make a difference as allies, but to what extent Laudna isn’t sure. They might help if she asks for it. She knows they won’t risk themselves for her or her friends, and she get’s it. She wouldn’t risk herself for a single other non-space person in this room, save for one. 

No one seems to trust the Unseelie. When Yu speaks every single person reads them. They look for lies or deceits and scowl when they can’t discern one way or the other. The Unseelie, however. Have far more on their side than the Ruidians, it seems. The woman who sits alone get’s no support in whatever it is she says. When she so much as twitches in her seat every single hand in the room moves for their weapons, save for Heda who has far more class and wit about her. 

Considering Heda takes residence in Marquet they, or rather she, has final say so in any argument started. She finishes it, waits a polite second for someone to back talk her decisions. 

No one does. 

Laudna taps a pattern against her thigh. She can’t play with her hair. Can’t mess her fingers into knots without making it obvious. So she tap tap tap taps. Digs her fingertips into ruined lace skirts, spins the fabric until the circulation cuts off. Every now and then she’d accidentally makes eye contact. Yu smiled, most either glared or looked away. But Otohan, as she’s come to learn, holds her gaze. 

The Ruidian stand-in sneers at her. Her eyes are on the murderous side. There’s something. Evil. In her stare. Unrelenting. Scrutinizing. Her aura is the heaviest at the table. It seeped nothing but darkness corrupting the people around her. They sagged, weeped and wilted. It was like She stole the energy of the people around her. It felt like she was trying to dive straight into Laudna’s head. Read her through her thoughts like she’s an open book.  

Would it be smarter to play this game? If Laudna looks away first, does that automatically set her into the weak willed girl they all see her as? If she doesn’t, will this battle of wills go on forever? She can’t see Otohan letting her win. But her gaze feels- 

Grossly familiar. 

Though, at least Delilah had some shred of humanity in her. At least when she looked at her husband her terrible gaze would soften, his words the only ones that got through to her. She’d look at Laudna with that soft gaze, sometimes. On rare days when she acted like they weren’t torturer- torture-ie. Delilah hated (hates?) eye contact. Said it was a sign of argument, disrespect to her authority. 

Otohan looks like she relishes in the challenge. Her tongues runs over her teeth beneath her closed, wicked smile. She leans forward, a silent strategic move taking in Laudna’s reaction. 

The Issylran second moves in the space leaders periphery. He pours a glass of water, his eyes darting nervously. Laudna still holds onto Otohan. Stays still in her seat as the Ruidian stand-in regards her indifference. 

Her dark eyes catch the subtle movement over the glass in the Second’s grasp. It’s hard to see any detail. It’s not hard to figure out why someone would waggle their fingers over a drink. 

She watches him blearily without diverting her attention. Watches each hesitant step he makes around the length of the war table. Her heart pounds watching as he passes the Head’s without pause. 

Her gaze remains on the wolven predatory warrior eyeing her like a hungry animal to fresh and wounded prey. The second of Issylra sets the glass down in front of Heda. 

Without a second thought her hand flies, fingers on the rim of the glass a millisecond after Heda’s wrap around it. She pushes down keeping the tainted water on the table. Every single eye in the room is on her. Every single jaw drops, Yu looking both absolutely taken aback and impressed all the same. 

“What did you put in this?” Laudna looks only at the Issylran second. His face falls pale, mouth opening and closing like a drowning fish. She watches him, presses hard on the rim of the glass feeling Heda trying to lift it again. It’s subtle, her hubris. It does not go unnoticed by greyed eyes across from her. 

“You will allow this- this! Insolence! She has no say, no power! She is a stranger. You trust her word?!” The Head of Issylra is as panicked as her second is floundering. She’s just better at keeping it hidden under rage. 

“Look at you darling.” The voice of Laudna’s nightmares whispers into her head. She freezes against it not catching Heda’s very calm but tense response to the screaming Head. “You’re causing quite the stir aren’t you, dear Laudna?” Delilah’s voice gains power playing at her victims sense of pride. “Doesn’t it feel good, to know you have power? Doesn’t it feel… intoxicating, to know your words dance with grace very few hold?” Her tormentor chuckles low into her ear, the conversation still going around her. 

Issylra’s leader is yelling. Heda’s fingers shake against the glass, it’s structure giving under her grip. She says something threatening, a warning. The Issylran Head challenges her as Heda, says she’s weak. Her second is slowly inching away, he’s just outside the immediate reach of a dangerous dagger. 

Delilah’s hands manifest on her shoulders. They drag her back into a perfect sitting position benefit of a real lady. One slides down her arm. Her fingers slip along the underside of her forearm. They glide against her hand then lace into hers palm to palm and pull. They urge her already unwavering hold on the glass to that of an unyielding force indefinitely. 

Her other ghostly hold moves to Laudna’s throat. She twitches against it expecting to lose her breath. Instead tingly fingertips rest under her chin and raise her eye over the rest, even if she’s not the tallest at the table. 

“Make an impression. Give them something to fear.” Delilah’s lips feather her ear. “Stay alive, Laudna.” And then she’s gone. The words flying from a shrill and clearly guilty woman fill the echoing room, draped laces doing little to dull the sound. Heda is already out of her chair, though her hand remains locked around slowly cracking glass. 

“You are so weak you allow-” She’s called Heda. Mm. No. She’s called Imogen weak for the fourth time in as many sentences. It sounds wrong. It doesn’t make sense to be placed anywhere near Imogen. It sends a roiling anger crashing through Laudna’s entire chest. 

She seethes. She rages. She takes a moment to compose herself slipping into a skin that isn’t her of own making, all high collars and green-gemed chokers.

“Drink it then.” Laudna speaks amongst the chaos. She doesn’t feel the need to shout instead only strengthening her voice and dropping her already poised expression into one of pure disdain. 

“Wh- You dare speak to me? After you accuse my Second of treason?” The Issylran leader is red in the face. She looms over the war table, eyes darting to Tal’dorei, Wildemount, then back to Laudna. 

“If I’m wrong then I will let Heda give me whatever punishment she sees fit.” Laudna starts. 

“Hed- You will deal with me.” The foreign leader spits across the War Room table. Laudna looks from her to Heda. There’s no mistaking the light red sheen flitting across The Commander’s eyes, only when hit just right by sun but still there nonetheless. Laudna asks without asking if she has the right to speak, she does. 

“My hand is on Heda’s glass. It’s her I’ve made foul against, if I’m wrong.” The woman of the stars smiles a gentle thing. Pitying the woman before her. She basks in the anger thrown at her. It’s amusing, a little fun in the all the worst ways to play and control someone’s emotions so easily. 

“Before you embarrass not only yourself but your people as a whole even further, just drink the fucking water.” Laudna pulls gently and Heda’s fingers hold strong. 

“If you are wrong about this, you will watch every single one of yours be slain by any blade here who wishes to join. You will face death by a thousand cuts so all who have been made offended feel justice.” There is no real threat in Heda’s voice. To anyone else sure, she’s the scariest thing in the room. But to Laudna? All she hear’s is ‘are you sure? I can’t save you if you’re wrong. Please don’t fucking be wrong.’ She makes her smile real, just enough. Then takes the glass and holds it to the Second who’s almost clear across the room inching towards the War Room door. 

“By all means.” With a very nonchalant ‘fuck you’ wave of her hand Laudna beckons the terrified boy forward. Heda clears her throat. Fearne moves from her flanking position to the only exit. Orym is a shadow at Heda’s right, her non dominate side, sword drawn and ready the second Laudna reached for this Gods forsaken glass. 

Trembling like a leaf in a hurricane the Second of Issylra looks to his Head. “I- I couldn’t.” He swallows thickly. “Dr-drink out of Heda’s…”

“I grow tired of these games. Do it now or taste the steel of my blade.” When Heda drew her dagger? It’s lost to all. Except Orym, perceptive as always and clocking every single intake and exhale, or lack there of. 

the younger boy get’s a nod of encouragement from his leader. Laudna doesn’t falter against it. Watches his shaking hand, the tainted water as it slips into his mouth. His throat bobs up and down as he swallows. The room is so silent it sounds like he slams the glass onto the table rather than gently setting it down.

A long few moments pass. Every eye in the room darts from Laudna to the boy. She doesn’t grace a single person with her attention. The Head of Issylra begins a very maniac cackle. 

“Bleeding you will be the highlight-”

Her second closed mouth coughs. Her eyes go wide with fear as her Second falls into a coughing fit. “It wasn’t- not this fast-” He holds his throat, foam colored pink with the blood that follows flows out of his mouth. “He-help me.”  Red drips from his eyes, his nose. He falls to the ground trembling, gagging, choking, reaching for his trusted leader who makes no move for his outstretched hand.

No one moves to help him. Everyone has eyes on Issylra.

Heda slowly moves around the table. 

“You should never have been made Heda!” Issylra yells, spittle flying form her mouth like waves hitting rocks. “You don’t deserve to call yourself Heda. You’re weak. Pathetic. Your mother would be so-” 

Red. 

Lavender irises are shining with red. Imogen, and Heda combined grit their teeth driving their dagger straight into Issylra’s throat. Their hand fists into the Head’s hair at the top of her head pulling up. Up. Up. Heda dragged her blade all the way around Issylra’s neck finishing with one final sickening crack. 

Dull thuds sound like point blank gun shots, Laudna would know, as the Head’s body hits the ground. Not a single eye follows. Held aloft by Heda’s white knuckle grip is the woman’s decapitated head, blood joining the puddle at her feet. 

“Take this to Estheross. He will lead until Issylra get’s their fucking shit together.” Heda hands the severed head off to Orym. He nods silently to her then disappears from the room with the already heavy shutting of ornate doors holding more weight than they did before. 

A heavy silence fills the room. Laudna watches Heda take a deep deep breath. It’s enough to clear away the red that had slowly been taking over that beautiful purple she saw before falling asleep. It’s enough for Tal’Dorei to clear their throat.

“You’ve made…” Otohan of the Ruidian’s isn’t looking at her like prey anymore. Is that better or worse? Laudna’s not sure past the pounding of her heart and there very conflicting emotions at seeing Heda sprayed with blood. “Quite the impression.” The older woman leans her elbows on the table, fingers laced and chin resting on them. “You’ve managed to kill so many people, including a figure head for an entire Conclave. Why in the Nine Hells should we just, let that go? If it were any of us,” She gestures to the table. “, What would happen, Heda? Would you be so. Kind?” Otohan wears a porcelain smile, mutterings of agreement bouncing around.

“If it were any of you, would this be an argument?” Laudna has no idea what she’s talking about. “Or would be a case of ‘was it justified?’” She pauses a polite beat, cutting in before anyone can actually answer. “Do you honestly believe that if I crossed Heda I’d be here speaking?” It seems like she’s making a point, a few heads nodding as she talks fully out of her ass. 

“She makes a good point. Isn’t that right Issah?” Yu holds their hand over their ear leaning towards the fallen body still idly bleeding on the floor. “She seems to agree.” They chuckle mostly to themselves giving Laudna a soft nod.

“You are a dangerous enemy as much as you are a power ally. I’ll say what others won’t, you are going to destroy this very careful web strung over generations no matter what you do.” Ever the peace holder Tal’dorei’s leader speaks in a gentle tone. It’s fucking terrifying, their eyes are knowing, hard, sharper than the dagger now resting in Heda’s hand rather than it’s sheath. 

Laudna chooses to nod her head solemnly rather than actually respond. Her words fail her anyway. She already knew that. It’s the one argument she hadn’t been able to make a solid case against, even in her own head. 

“That is exactly why they will stay in Jrusar.” When Heda finally get’s herself calmed enough to speak it’s final. There is no more room for back and forth. There is no more room for bullshit. “I will take the responsibility, weed out any who wish to defy our ways.” Laudna watches her enraptured. A wave booms from The Commander soothing away most of the lingering tension. 

“Agreed.” Heda says it not as a question, but get’s nods and murmured affirmation anyway. Even Otohan nods grinning something wicked across the table. “If there isn’t anything else of dire need we are done here.” 

Looks are shared. Conversation happens without a word and then one by one starting with Otohan. Yu hangs by the door giving Laudna a wink then just like the rest they leave. 

The second it’s down to her Chet and Heda the nerves Laudna had been tamping down come rushing back up. Her stomach spins and her brain feels like she’d been shaken for the last three and half hours straight. 

‘I’d do most anything to keep you close.’ 

It rings around her head like a bell. Behind her eyes she watches Heda rip the head off Issah’s body with ease. The scene reverses then plays again. And again. And-

“Phew! That shit was intense!” Chetney puts his hands behind his back stretching until it cracks like a glow-stick. “You were incredible under all that pressure, how you holding up?” His grizzled hand lays on her shoulder. 

She laughs lowly. “Ask me when I have time to really sort though it all.” It’s noncommittal. She has no idea when or if she’ll ever get the time to process anything to the fullest extent. Or at all really. She’s trying to keep her mind on one track. 

Trying being the key word. The literal leaders of the Exandria are torn on keeping not only her but her friends alive. She already got one of them killed when all she had to do was sit and stake a claim for her own.

There’s so much to think about. There’s so much to do and she has so many people to get up to date, let alone keep up with all of their questions and needs and- Fuck. There’s always so much happening.

“Laudna.” Dulcet and sweet, feminine. She looks up to find Chetney and Heda both looking at her expectantly. 

“I said I’m gonna head out and not because she’s making me.” He throws faux shade over to The Commander who deadpans back rolling her eyes. 

“O-oh. Alright.” She stands and greatly accepts the bone-crushing hug he gives her. 

“We’ll talk later, okay?” He whispers softly giving her a loving look. She nods to him far too aware of what will happen if she voices a single word. She’d fall apart at her bursting seams. 

“Guess I’m escorting you back hm?” Fearne flips her hair over her shoulder, twiddles her fingers and gives a charming smile. 

“Do you know the way? It might take me a bit to remember exactly…” Chetney’s coy voice fades out, the War Room door blocking out the rest of his sentence. 

It also seems to steal the air from the room. Tension more strung out than Laudna’s current mental state sits weighted like a thick fog. She intentionally doesn’t look Heda’s direction. Not for a good long minute, or five, taking the first second in weeks to just

Breathe. 

She focuses on her heart beat. Squeezes the splitting ends of her hair between her fingers enjoying the crunchy sound it makes the harder she rolls them between her fingertips. The terrible can wait for later. It’s not like it’s going anywhere anyway. 

Soft shuffling grabs her from her woes. Heda’s moved from her seat to stand near her. She still doesn’t look at her fully, not just yet. It’d be too overwhelming to have Heda looking at her. Her hard eyes and stoney face. It’s… it’s just not what she needs right in this moment of tensive calm.

“Starlight.” A gloved tentative finger barely grazes her arm. Goosebumps light her skin in their wak. She doesn’t look over. Her voice is too deep. Not enough southern and not enough twang. “Before you leave. There is something I have to- to.” Heda stops speaking tripping over her words. 

Now Laudna looks. Turns to face her fully. Leather clad fingers are tight around her favored weapon. Off hand busying itself with tapping against her thigh. She’s. Nervous? Heda. Nervous? 

“My people are. We have a saying. Blood must have blood. If, no. No when one of the Trikru picks a fight you can hurt them, knock them into the next dimension but Laudna.” The Commander says her name on the very last notes of breath. Desperate and worried and- She steps into Laudna space taking her by the hands. “Do not kill them. Tell your people do not kill anyone under my personal watch. Of course there’s exceptions to everything but- fuck. Laudna.” She runs her off hand through her hair clenching it into a fist at the top of her head. Laudna is at a loss for words. Again. For the gazillionth time in as many minutes and promptly closes mouth when Heda get’s even more into her personal bubble pulling their still conjoined hands to her chest. 

She presses Laudna’s hand flat against the skin over her heart without hesitation. The Commander slips it beneath her armor and holds it there letting her feel just how hard her heart is going. How fast and how strong it is as it slams with the rush of whatever mix of adrenaline and cortisol is coursing through her. 

“Do what you have to. Hurt them. Maim them. Disfigure them. But do not kill them. I cannnot protect your people-” The catch in her voice sends levels of hope, or desire, or something of the two shooting through Laudna’s being. She wants her to say-

“You. I can’t protect you if you kill someone.” The heavy war torn tension vanishes. Laudna is rendered nothing more than a brain and a body. Her consciousness has been stolen and all she can focus on is the way The Commander’s bottom lips slightly trembles. 

Heda lays her head against Laudna’s chest where they stand. “Please.” Ghosting her skin the word has never sounded more gut-wrenching. Laudna gently untangles their hands softly pushing Heda back by the hand she keeps on her chest. 

She cups The Commander’s jaw, fingers splayed to cradle her head. She tries to read Heda, a much harder book to transcribe then Imogen is. It’s hard to see past all of the cracked, crumbling stone. Sadness, worry, a desperation unbefitting a Commander. 

Almost automatically her deep dark eyes bounce from mosaic lavender to soft, slightly shaky lips then back. A sigh is all that separates them. All Laudna would have to do is breathe in the air between them and for the first time in her life be greedy. Heda would be hers, or rather she’d be Heda’s. 

The tight tension around them reached a fever pitch. Heda’s heart rose in speed to a ferocity with one lavender glance to Laudna’s slightly parted lips. They hung there for just a second too long. The broken glass emotion in her eyes seemed to clear, most of them darkening to something closer to want. 

Laudna wants too. So badly does she want. Her eyes dart down again. Heda’s tongue wets her lips pulling the bottom into her teeth letting it naturally slide back into it’s rightful place. 

Laudna surges forward pressing a quick kiss to Heda’s lips. She went to pull away mortified byre lack of self control met by Heda grabbing her by the waist and yanking her back in. The smile she wears is involuntary, a billowing burst of rare and pure happiness readily kissed away by stiff lips.

She felt the moment Heda melted to Imogen. Her kisses softened. Her hands held her hips softly turning her, backing her up until she was pressed against the edge of the War Table. She reveled in the way Imogen kissed her. Gentle and hard and passionate. She leaned over Laudna gaining the advantage of height and- 

Oh.

Imogen’s tongue swiped her bottom lip instantly teaching her what to do with her own. She couldn’t stop the noise that rose up and out of her throat greedily swallowed away by the woman absolutely ravishing her. Those insanely warm lips move from her mouth wetly kissing her jaw all the way to her neck.

Laudna couldn’t stop herself from dropping her head back. Giving Imogen access to more of her throat. “Gods below~” She gasped against teeth biting into her flesh. Arched up into the body above her as those teeth make their way to her collar bone. 

As good as this feels She wants to kiss her again. She grabs Imogen by the shoulders. Pushes her back, a look of anxiety crossing those lovely features before it disappears into bliss. Laudna crashes them together a little rougher than before. A lot rougher than before, her hands tangling into perfect Lavender hair pulling them together to an impossibility. 

A warm gloved hand slides up her thigh, the not injured one this time as the other slides up her stomach, in between her breasts, and up into her hair at the base of her skull. It’s only when she’s running out of her ability to the fight natural instinct to breathe does she remove herself. The two of them panting looking with the same deep seeded hunger. 

“Hello, Imogen.” Laudna instantly smiled like one Pavlov’s dogs looking into a completely different set of broken eyes. They’re darting all over her face taking in every detail about her before landing on her own dark brown gaze. 

“Hi.” The sheer amount of accent should be studied. One breath of a word shouldn’t be allowed to sound that… She kisses her again. Just to see if she can. And she’s allowed to. Imogen much less needily takes her in. Testing waters with far more care and gentleness. 

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Laudna whispers into the lack of space between them, forehead to forehead. She can’t stop smiling. The darkness eating her alive disappears giving way to nothing but burning light. 

There’s a bit of a pause. Laudna opens her eyes falling into a reverential grin. Imogen has her eyes closed. Not a single fingertip is anywhere near her weapons. Her mouth is slightly open and the gap between her teeth has never been more visible. 

She’s high on endorphins. Her brain is fuzzy and warm and Imogen is so beautiful like this. Completely relaxed, not a single hard line on her face. Without thinking Laudna runs her fingers through thick wavy hair and mutters 

“Trust suits you.”

Chapter Text

“Trust suits you.” 

Imogen goes rigid under her touch. 

“It’s such a far cry from the last time we were here, hm?” 

Laudna very, extremely tentatively begins a slow back and forth with her finger tips. She’s looking down into eyes scanning every single inch of her face. The hopeful and scared look in wide lavender sends her heart into another wild frenzy. It’s hard to keep the gentle ‘I will never hurt you’ look she wears now. She can feel her lips wanting so desperately to break into a bubbly drunk grin.

“I believe it was you who said you could never, ever trust me. ‘The sky woman.’” Laudna giggles a gentle sound. It catches her off guard for a second. She thought she’d lost the ability to be this soft, with everything going on in her life and all. It felt. Really, really nice. Even better when careful eyes finally stopped on her own. The purple staring back has never been such a sedated pastel. 

“I can’t whistle.” Imogen whispers gently. Her voice is barely audible and her bottom lip finds it’s way into the trap of her teeth. “You asked if there was anything I can’t do. I can’t whistle.” She fills into stunned silence. 

Laudna stares at her for a moment. Tense and quiet before she loses the fight and smiles wider than she has in her entire life. Warmth. Her chest is warm with pure happiness. 

“The Commander of all of Exandria… can’t whistle?” Her voice wavers with delight and Imogen goes to back away from her, miffed. “Wait! Wait, I wasn’t poking fun.” Laudna chases her wrapping her arms around the small of her back without thinking. It forces them front to front, forces their gazes to lock for what feels like the millionth time. “It’s endearing, since I can whistle.” She demonstrates by whistling a lost Whitestone song of mourning. It’s tune is all that remains after the lyrics has been lost by generations. Imogen, despite herself, grins. Really truly grins revealing the gap between her teeth. 

“That’s what I was looking for.” Laudna chuckles. Freezes when she get’s the urge to kiss. Can they do that now? Is that allowed? Instead to traces a line from the corner of a still grinning mouth to the bottom of Imogen’s ear tucking away some loose hair.

“Your tongue is as silver as your lips are intoxicating.” Imogen moves in to kiss her and by the Gods she can feel herself melting. She has to lean down ever so much to relieve Imogen from her tiptoes, even if part of her wants to raise up to her fullest stretched height to see what happens. 

They stay there like that for. For… 

Long enough for hands to wonder to places they hadn’t dared search. Laudna very cautiously finds a break in Imogen’s clothes and armor. She brushes against the tight muscles of The Grounder leader’s stomach counting one. Two. Three rows of abs. When she presses on them lightly Imogen gasps pulling away slightly, fully flushed and a little. Stunned? Only their mingling breaths fill the silence of the war room. That is until a heavy pound comes at the door. 

“Heda. Clean up is here.” Unfamiliar a deep voice calls through thick gold filigreed wood. They look at each other. A spark so palpable it turns almost awkward. 

“You should. Go. You should go.” Imogen shakes herself out of her reverie moving away from Laudna further. It’s only when she takes a few deliberate steps around Issa does Laudna remember her corpse is still there. 

“I. I don’t know how… To.” This time, Laudna stay where she is. Watches sedated mauve disappear behind closed eyelids. And then all that stares back at her is a deep violet. 

Yet-

“A victory celebration will be thrown tonight.” Heda looks to the door. To Laudna, her gloved hands automatically finding her rapier’s hilt. “Fearne is waiting for you with your friends. We will meet again.” She places a quick kiss to Laudna’s cheek then hold door for the both of them.

——

Fearne is indeed at least with her friends. Waiting for her? Not so much. When Laudna arrives back to the place she left her friends Fearne is the center of attention. Letters, Ashton, and Chetney sit the closest to her, a few other kids idling in the background. Their eyes are as wide and enthralled as a moth to flame.

“Told you I was good.” Fearne smiles twiddling a coin across her knuckles to a very bewildered Ashton. 

“What the fuck?” They whisper quietly then grin with malice. “Just you fuckin’ wait. I’ve got plans.” He leans against the wall to his right, his back to Laudna. 

“I’m looking forward to your… plans~” Fearne leans down to whisper into their ear. Laudna shifts a bit uncomfortably catching her eye over Ashton’s shoulder. “Finally, I’ve been told we’re going on a shopping trip.” She stands to her full height easing through the small crowd of people, well more like the people wade around Fearne like she’s parting water. “I hope to see you boys later,-byebye~” Flipping her hair over her shoulder and waving her fingers Fearne takes Laudna’s hand. 

“Shop- we’re what?” Laudna stutters clumsily following after looking back at her friends for help. They were none at all. Ashton stared at Fearne’s very adorned belt with interest, Chetney’s eyes respectfully moving across Fearne’s body… His face wither turned a little red or he made a very impressed expression. And Letters, dear sweet Letters 

“Have fun you two, remember to have a smiley day Laudna.” Teasingly they wave. Laudna glares but gives in and waves just as the door to their abode, a small one room building with makeshift beds, closes. 

——

All through the bustling streets of Jrusar people, as they always do, stare. At her. At Fearne who waves it off with ease. She must be used to double takes with how beautiful and tall and. 

Bodacious. She is.

“So what are we thinking?” Fearne is walking at Laudna’s side all but skipping. If this little outing was a chore or a demand she sure didn’t show it. The whimsical comfy aura to exuded in waves was exactly what Laudna needed right now. “Hello? Gods to Laudna?” Nimble fingers with blackened nails waved in front of her distracted face.

“Oh, sorry.” Shaking her head she only confirms Fearne’s warmth. Her following giggle and easy smile make Laudna gently grin in kind. “What were you saying?” A little embarrassed she messes with her hands choosing them over the goat-ish green trained on her. 

“Make a lady repeat herself.” The taller of the two flipped her hair over her shoulder giving her a coy eyebrow raise. It’s intended effect works, yet again, stopping the instant apology on Laudna’s lips. This. Fearne has to be part god, right? No one just exists like this. “What do you want to wear tonight? I don’t want to sway you one way or the other but, the night does tend to get a little cold.” All charm and airy voice the Grounder woman leans into her space way too excited. 

Laudna pauses. “I’m not quite sure.” What would she even wear? The fanciest thing she ever has was a black cocktail dress, the front translucent lace much higher up than the back train nearly scraping floor. She only wore it when her parents, well mostly her mother, had a fancy “Important people of Whitestone” party. Customization hasn’t really been the forefront of her thoughts. 

At least, not recently. When she was a girl she would wear already worn crayons and colored pencils to nubs drawing up outfits. By twelve she had to trade with artists for whatever papers, or materials they could spare. Of course by then the paper had been recycled to the ends of it’s life going through the grueling process over and over. 

Maybe if her life had been. Different. Maybe she could’ve been a designer. If she was born generations earlier, before the war that killed Exandria. Maybe she would’ve had a shop. Maybe her parents would’ve disagreed with her career choice. Maybe they would’ve been proud of her.

“Does this call for a montage?” Fearne’s smile is enough to make Laudna shiver. Full of mischief and far too much enjoyment at whatever idea has popped into her head. “I know all the best places, clearly.” She waves a hand up and down her body steering them hard left and all but running down them street. “And I have sway with all the right people.” She winks behind her shoulder.

——

“Absolutely not.” The tallest of the room fusses, fixes her sea foam hair on top of her head frustrated. 

“I’m happy to keep wearing-” Laudna tries and fails for the hundredth outfit and third shop to insist she’s fine. This had not been working in her favor in the slightest. Her escort is far more into getting the perfect “celebration outfit” than she herself is. 

And it was so exciting. At first. The first place they’d been to had been filled with colorful fabrics, threads, and textures. Mannequins had been spread out unceremoniously, mostly filling empty space, dressed to the nines. 

It was the most expensive place she’d ever been to in her entire life. The amount of awe and welcomed uncomfortable she saw dancing on her own face, in her eyes, looking at herself in an honest-to-Gods lady dress. 

It was a dark dark blue. Skirts layered and gathered intentionally in the back. Her hair, which had thankfully been recently washed, was pulled half up. The money pieces had been braided and pulled back against her temple in mock of where a tiara would lay. 

It’s the prettiest she’s ever felt. 

But she’s practical. In a world were death follows her like a puppy. Where blood soaks down to her bones and stains her soul, this kind of dress is not for her. Sadly she changes out of it. Doesn’t say anything to a very confused Fearne and gently suggests they go somewhere else. 

The second place was certainly something. All survival gear and a lot. A. LOT. Of camouflage. Deep greens and browns and shaky spaghetti-like plant suits. Fearne said it’s what most people who travel outside the city bounds wear  to blend into the landscape. It’s a must on their list, why Fearne has a list she won’t say, and Laudna doesn’t get much choice but take the gathered bundle of clothes in the Grounders arms. 

After many, so so many, color combos and swaps and changes she finally matches together a plain black T-shirt covered by a washed dark grey denim jacket. She laments her skirts, fun while they lasted but Gods awful in actuality. The nicely fit black jeans hold up much better than the skirts, no need for a belt. She twists the ripped lace she’d been using around her hands letting it slide across her skin. 

Sighing she slides the still braided pieces of her hair from their home in the twine she’d borrowed from Fearne. Taking the torn lace she wraps it around her make-shift hair tie tying it into a ribbon at the back of her head. 

She looks so butch like this. She likes that she looks so butch like this. 

“Very different, hm, Laudna?” She says to herself pulling on either side of the jacket seeing how it fit on her. It’s a little long in the sleeves, but it fits to her with just enough movement to keep from being restrictive. Is this what having form fitting stuff is like? 

When she exits the changing space her escorts face lights up both very bewildered and very pink. 

“Keep that on. We’ll pay on the way out.” Fearne’s voice is as light as a summer breeze and just as comfortable. Laudna flusters but does’t feel the need to argue when her tattered clothes are taken from her, Fearne hoping for a bit of a discount. 

The third place is Fearne’s white whale. It’s her “most favorite shop in all the world, probably.” Her words. It was a mix between formal, casual, and all over whimsy. Cardigans and crotched sweaters. Armored tactical vests and full on ball gowns and suits. 

“Listen. I was chosen because I clearly have amazing taste.” Fearne flips her hair and gestures to herself. “We’re going to find so many outfits for you.” The utter hunger in her eyes made Laudna chuckle nervously. There’s no way she’s getting out of this anytime soon. 

She was right. By the time they got back to where her friends are staying it was nearly twilight. She carried with her one bag of neatly folded clothes wearing her brand new casual outfit, from the second store. 

Fearne carries four bags happily rambling as they walk through the quieter streets of Jrusar. Something about Laudna’s going to fit right in, which they both know isn’t super true, but the sentiment eases her nerves a bit anyway. She can still feel the stares, less than earlier but not everyone is happy with her presence. 

“I guess this is where we part?” Laudna asks as they approach the outside of the housing Fearne had stolen her from. 

“At this point it’d be easier for me to just hang out. The party starts at sunset and ends when the last person falls.” Fearne smiles pushing into the large room. “Guess who’s back~!” She calls. Cheers follow and Laudna can only follow. 

——

Bodies. So many bodies. People look more like the roiling sea whooping and chanting something in Grounder towards the sky. Their voices seem to swirl and get carried away by the smoke of large fire pyres until they flow out of sight. 

More than once a giant crack was heard followed by a flurry of burning orange and black ashes. Shouts of excitement then more dancing follow each one. 

“I see some Gods damned alcohol. If someone fuckin’ tries anything try not to die until we can get to you.” Ashton is steering Letters towards a group of decently drunk grounders fitting in pretty seamlessly. One of them swings at Ashton, laughing. They dodge and swing back just, if not harder. 

She watches for a tense second as their fist connects with the Grounder’s jaw. Silence. More silence and then roaring laughter. They pass bottles to both Ashton and the very, obviously stressed out FCG. Much to her nerves Chetney stays wherever Fearne is. 

Currently Fearne is staying with Laudna. They shamelessly flirt back and forth and back and forth and- 

Ugh. It’s getting dirtier and dirtier. Less and less hidden innuendos. Chetney talking about his wood, how good he is with it and Fearne offering to help him out if he get’s tired. 

Laudna’s both scared to say something and scared not to. She doesn’t want to get roped into their foreplay and even more so does not want to hear it. Instead she just keeps walking through crowds until she emerges at the edge of the designated “town square”. It’s really an open area near the more wealthy areas of Jrusar. Big enough for giant pyres but still close enough to be used in day to day life. 

“Y’know I’ve got expire with these years.” Chetney flexes his sinewy old man muscles disguising it as a stretch. Laudna gags and Fearne drops her eyes to half lidded. 

“Really? Well I’m more than happy to see what that experience first hand…” She reaches out gliding her fingers across his jaw. If Chetney were a cartoon he’d have teeny little wings and heart shaped eyes. 

Disgusting. The images flying through Laudna’s poor over active mind are going to haunt her into her dreams. Old man flab and old man skin and old man co- 

She chokes on her drink. It’s strong but that fine cause the conversation around her stops. Green and blue eyes stare at her concerned and worried and on Chetney’s, rightful, part a little miffed. 

“Sorry. Stronger than I thought.” Laudna tries to recover but now the flirts are aware of her presence and the air get’s awkward. 

“I’m gonna… yeah” Chetney defeatedly steps towards where they all left Ashton, who is absolutely thriving already stumbling and swinging around a giant hammer. Who the fuck gave drunk Ashton a giant hammer? 

“If you’re still up at exactly three, I’ll wait for you.” Fearne says loudly after the oldie’s retreating form. He turned around barely containing himself, gave a nod then disappeared as a random party goer crossed in front of him. 

“Are you actually going to wait for him?” Laudna asks dreading the answer. Because yeah, sure. Fearne does wait then what? They do it right outside where she’ll be trying to sleep? Or she doesn’t wait and Chetney is heartbroken. Loose, loose for her no matter what. 

“Well, it has to be exactly three. Not a minute before or after.” Fearne winks still staring at the spot Chetney had been. “That’s the only way he’s getting any of this.” She laughs so jovially Laudna has no choice but to join in lightly. There is absolutely chance that man is staying up til exactly three. Poor guy. 

“If he’s out does that mean I get his spot in line?” Smooth, deep, and intentional Yu appears snaking an arm around Fearne’s waist. They take one of her hands holding it into the air like they were going to take her fro a slow dance. 

“You’ve been banned from this ride. Remember?” Carefree Fearne is gone. Upset, angry Fearne tears away from the diplomat. She takes a deliberate step away glaring, fire dancing in her eyes both literally and figuratively. Laudna stands in the middle of them not really sure what to do, fingers tightening around her cup. 

“There a way I can…” Yu smiles. Coy is too light a word for the inherent sexual intent behind them. “Get off. This ban list, WildSpark?” They move until they’re only a quick jaunt forward from their quarry and less than a step in front of Laudna. 

“You have no right to call me that, Yu Suffiad.” The full name knocks Yu off their arrogant high horse at least long enough that Laudna can see it lance through their face. Then they sigh and turn away from Fearne. Laudna stiffens suddenly the target of teasing eyes. 

“I would love to take this ride out, doesn’t look like you have a line.” They’re in her space. Fingers twist her long hair then let it bounce back into place. She’d even put it back into the tiara style, Fearne helping her and pinning in a few flowers. Where she’d gotten them? Laudna didn’t see, her back to her escort who very much insisted on doing her hair. 

“I. Oh, um actually…” When she trails off Yu gives her a very dead stare. 

“You aren’t romantically entangled with anyone, are you FallenSky?” They move forward, fully intent on taking her into the same pose they had Fearne in, only face to face. Laudna was fully intent on stepping away already half getting the words ‘not exactly’ out of her mouth. Freezing when they call her by a nickname. 

“Enough Yu. Leave her alone.” Fearne has a hand between the two of them pushing the Unseelie away with no force at all. 

“Talk about cock block.” Yu rolls their eyes but doesn’t make move to leave. They just awkwardly stand there, the three of them still in a dancing storm of bodies. Laudna sips her drink idly getting herself slightly behind Fearne. Not entirely, but enough to get her point across. 

“Fearne.” When the silence get’s to be too much she breaks it. Staring at the closest fire too socially inept to know which set of eyes to stare at. “Aren’t nicknames for close relationships? Or I have I been ill informed?” She shifts side to side feeling a fuzzy feeling  starting to creep up her neck. That’s enough of whatever is her cup. 

“Usually, yes.” Fearne looks both taken aback and impressed, Yu matching her look and how she’s standing. It looks natural between them. Whatever their history is must run deep. “Some people are more flippant about it.” She glares to Yu who only smirks a bit, but nods to confirm what she’s saying. “It’s usually made up of two parts that describe the person you’re giving it to. Which is why it’s usually an intimate thing. Families share the second half, like. My nana calls me her little FieryBird. So I call her my NanaBird. Not creative but I was like five and she said I wan’t aloud to come up with anything better.” Fearne’s face lights up with a gentle kind of reverence at the mention of her grandmother. 

“Only families?” Laudna asks wanting all the information. If she was able she’d sit Fearne down and question her to the ends of Exandria. But she’s at a party and her brain is getting foggier. She’s never been inebriated, but this is what buzzed sounds like when it’s described in stories. 

“No. Well, okay. So.” Fearne scrunches her eyebrows, taps her chin a bit. Yu rolls their eyes. 

“It’s like a promise ring. If you’re serious serious about someone you don’t give them a nickname until you’re ready to ask them to marry you.” They say it with such an ease. Laudna goes stone still staring with wide eyes. 

“Huh?” She says to no one and everyone that can hear. 

“Give her a damn heart attack why don’t you.” The tallest of them all slaps Yu’s shoulder. “Like I said. Some people are more flippant about it.” Fearne eats the words as they squeeze past clenched teeth. “It’s actually more traditional now ‘a’ days to wait that long.” She puts a hand on Laudna’s shoulder trying to be reassuring. 

“Right.” Laudna puts up a careful, studious, front. On the inside she’s a screaming mess. What the fuck do they mean promise ring? What the fuck does she mean flippant? Actually, she get’s that one. Thanks Yu. But nicknames are so much more than Imogen let on? Which isn’t a shocker, but it is? The amount of intimacy Imogen, blatantly, left out. What the hell does that even mean? “And if someone gibes you a nickname? Like, let’s say they are really important. Y’know. Like Im- Heda gave you right?” Whatever is sitting forgotten in her cup is making her filter a little less effective. Good cover though… She hopes. Neither Fearne, who’s a cup and a half in, nor Yu make any notion to noticing her near slip. 

“Nicknames from, and for those people are reserved to them. Heda is allowed to give nicknames, and only those people are allowed to give one back. I think there’s… well me, and Orym, Dorian… Deanna…” Fearne begins to tick her fingers. Five people, including me that are allowed.” She smiles a little hazy, not drunk per say but. For sure not sober either. 

“Oh. So it’s a pretty big deal if Heda, or anyone of her stature gives a nickname?” Laudna plays dumb to hide why she’s smiling like a Gods damn idiot. Six. Six people have gotten nicknames. Six people are allowed to give a nickname back. 

“Oh for sure. But, giving a nickname back is actually the far more intimate part. Y’know. Since you’d be the one confirming the relationship, whether it’s purely platonic or not. It’s like saying ‘you see u this way and yes, I also see us this way.” Finishing off her second cup of whatever is making her cheeks flush, Fearne turns sharply to Yu. “Which is why I hadn’t given you one yet. I wasn’t sure.” She crosses her arms unknowingly perfectly mirroring Yu. 

“It’d been almost a year.” Yu says suddenly far more on their back foot. They look to Laudna who holds her hands up asking her head. She’s got far more than enough spinning her head already. Fog, the number six, and the uncontrollable urge to just smile. 

The anxiety and terror of Heda calling StarLight, which apparently describes her? She. It. Describes. Her? Imogen thinks StarLight describes her. Right now it’s the cutest thing in the world. Her chest feels so light, no pun intended, she’s too buzzed for that. Her heart pounds in turn and her face feels too red to blame on one of the fires. 

“Yeah, not even, and only a year. There are so many more in the future I just wasn’t ready for something that serious. That doesn’t mean I didn’t and don’t miss you!” Fearne yells. Yu physically balks. Laudna whips to look at her. “I mean. Gods. This is why I- I can’t let you keep doing this to me.” Shaking fingers go into sea foam hair. “Do you really think I was just going from person to person? That I was just using you?” She’s crying now. Laudna, already not thinking straight, runs a hand up and down Fearne’s back. 

“No! No I-” Yu drops their confidence. “I told you I didn’t mean it when I said it. I. I was just hurt.” Something real replaces the flirtiness oozing off of the diplomat’s aura. 

“You made me hate myself. And I love who I am. I know you’re sorry and you regret it but. I just can’t let you do that to me again,” Fearne wipes her face. She put’s on a brave mask and stands to her full height, just over Yu’s own even in their fancy heels. “, and I know I would let you.” She whispers the last part turning towards Laudna wearing a small watery grin. “I’ll see you later, ‘Kay?” Before Laudna could even think Fearne was gone. 

“Fearne! Wai-” She rounds on Yu, but they too, are gone. Now she’s just along in the middle of this huge ass celebration, automatically takes a drink of her drink and grimaces swallowing the giant mouth full. She’s already on the outskirts of the party. The surrounding wood looks like a good place to not be in the middle of. Whatever that was.

She doesn’t bother finding Ashton, or Chetney, or Letters. She just gives a quick glance around, doesn’t find a familiar face, then walks off finishing her drink. Being a good guest she sets the cup down in a pile of empties as she passes a calmer group of people, a smoking joint passed around their circle. 

“Heeeeey, want…” The nearest to her gives a once over her. “Eh. Just lit it. Yours.” He hands her the joint then get’s to rolling a new one at his friends ‘hey!’-ing him. 

She didn’t stick around. She did take the joint out to the woods with her listening to the group cough one after the other. She looked at it smoking idly. Well. She’s already tipping over to tipsy. Might as well… When on Exandria, right? 

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Fuck. She takes a moderate drag nearly dropping the joint to the ground. Tears fall from her eyes as she struggles to take in a breath without flaring the embers in her throat. 

She leans heavily against a tree. On the outside of the jungly woods, just in case. And she’s both tipsy and whoop. She takes another drag. And another. And another. And… her joint is gone. The world is double foggy and suddenly her head feels like it’s full of helium. 

She should definitely not be alone right now. The alcohol is making her sad and the weed is making her chill. Ugh. Her stomach hurts. Did she eat today? Yeah. She and Fearne got… 

She should not be alone right now. Everything feels like it’s in double times speed and slow motion. Maybe these experiences should’ve been separate. Drunk and high and drunk and. Ugh. She closes her eyes. Feels like she’s falling and snaps them back open. 

In front of her appears a woman of many Lavenders. 

“What is with people and teleporting tonight?” Laudna let’s in her head hit the tree behind her. She only half believes Imogen is real. Is she messed up enough to hallucinate? How is she supposed to know? She’s never been fucked up like this before. 

“People teleport?” Oh. It’s Imogen Imogen and Not Heda Imogen. Despite the Grounder Leader dressed casually, she expected to find only Heda. But this is Imogen. And Imogen gave her a nickname. A very intimate nickname. 

“Teleport, disappear and appear, what’s the difference?” Laudna slurs, balance whirling in her head dizzyingly. She groans sliding her hands down her face. 

“Well, one is a feat of magic and the other is easily explainable.” Imogen steps forward, sword and dagger prominent on her person. For someone so very very very guarded she sure let Laudna in pretty fast. It makes Laudna giggle. Then laugh and she loses her sense of upright. “Whoah! Knight in shining vest armor.” Imogen’s hands are on her body holding her up. 

“A damsel in distress.” Imogen plays along. “How much have you had, Starlight?” Almost practiced she get’s the both of them to the ground. There’s space between them. Enough when they shift they don’t touch. Not enough not they cant reach deliberately. 

“Ugh. That again. StarLight. What does that even mean, Imogen?” Laudna lulls her head to look at lavender eyes. She can’t read them. She can’t read anything off Imogen. She’s finally looking at what everyone else must see. A neutral face and indifferent aura. She hates that she can’t read her. Imogen is the easiest book in the universe to read. One of her favorites. 

“What do you mean?” Imogen stares straight forward. Her fingers tap her dagger handle and Laudna knows that means she’s nervous. Or thinking. Or maybe she’s just doing it absently? Fuck that neutral side…profile….. jawline. “StarLight?” Imogen waves her hand back and forth in front of her face genuinely giggling at her. 

“It means two things. Fearne told me so. So what do you mean?” She fully stares at the woman beside her. She can’t stop staring. She’s so beautiful. The moon loves her in ways the sun can’t. Silver seeps into her skin where gold bounces off. The moon holds her where the sun shows her off. She looks so, so relaxed when it’s just them in the woods in the dead of night. Though the lively shouts of the party don’t exactly scream dead of night. 

“I mean that.” Imogen starts. Stops. Plays with her dagger. Laudna, messed up as she is knows to wait. Knows that Imogen will never talk about this again if she’s scared off. So she waits. “Stars are, Gods above this is embarrassing.” Gloves hands muss lavender hair. Laudna turns to look forward, back flat against the tree truck, and slowly takes Imogen’s left hand. 

There’s a hitch in the Grounder Leader’s throat. She doesn’t take her hand away instead letting them rest conjoined in the small space between their thighs. Sort of hidden, but Laudna get’s it. She couldn’t stomach her friends finding out about them, if there is a them. Is there a them? Later. Save it for later. 

Imogen sighs heavily, a release of tension. “Stars are pretty. And bright and their used for guiding paths at night. They bejewel the dark sky making it look like a beautiful tapestry. And light. A beacon in the darkness. Light is safe. People use light to keep monsters away. They use light to feel happy.” Her free hand points to the many fires burning bright in the nighttime. They look like mini suns illuminating the entire party area with no trouble at all. “So you know. StarLight.” 

Laudna was already love-drunk staring when Imogen finally stops and turns to face her. She doesn’t move to kiss her, even though it’s all she can think about. Instead tears fall down her face. One, then two, and then they just keep going. Imogen looks mortified, then worried when Laudna doesn’t react like a normal person would to crying. 

She doesn’t sniffle. Doesn’t sob or choke for air. Tears just silently fall. They gathered on her jaw dripping to the ground below. “You see me like that?” Her voice is what shakes. Why she never, ever spoke when she got like this. 

Imogen entirely softens. “Yeah, I do.” Her unoccupied hand wipes constant tear tracks away until they stop. Laudna couldn’t get herself to talk anymore until she manages to get the tears under control. Which is way more hard when she’s trying to keep herself steady.

“I. Might I. Can I Kiss you? I don’t. Is it alright for me to kiss you? I want to. Like a lot. All the time but. You’re you and. Gods below, am I allowed to say I’m romantically entangled with someone?” She’s rambling. Watches emotions she can’t place micro-flash across Imogen’s face. 

“Let’s talk when you’re sober.” 

Chapter Text

It’s the last thing she can recall clearly. ‘Let’s talk when you’re sober.’ It rings in her ears as she comes to swaddled in blankets and heavenly soft beneath her. It’s enough to have her singing out long, content. 

And then she remembers the night before. Remembers she was with Imogen. She got overly upset with her, apparently alcohol and weed make her belligerent where she would normally be understanding. ‘Let’s talk when you’re sober.’ It’s a reasonable response to someone drunk and babbling about making out. Or wanting, at least, to have the title “Romantically Entangled.”

She remembers just staring at lavender eyes for what felt like an eternity of silence. And then she was on her feet battling horrid dizziness. Imogen didn’t follow her as she stumbled towards the party. She found Ashton, they were drunk off their ass. Letter’s all but begged the both of them not to drink too much. She didn’t listen. 

There was Fearne. They danced. And then Yu came. They stole her away from Fearne, said something about getting her back if they could talk. Fearne left and then… And then… It’s all a blur of nothing. A dark space between then and now. 

Now, where she’s laid in a bed she does not recognize. Curled into blankets that she doesn’t know. Soft as they are, and they are so very very soft, she starts to panic. Her heart starts to race just as fast as her mind does. 

She flies to sitting. 

“You’re okay.” 

Her eyes finds her instantly. Shades of purple and missing her war paint, but it’s her. Imogen lounges across a very fancy couch. It’s larger on the right side sloping and thinning off towards the left. A fainting couch. She’s seen them in books, why Imogen would need such an ostentatious piece of furniture in. 

Where the hell is this? 

She takes a second to actually take in her surroundings. It’s a large room. The, is it a queen? It seems just a little shy of the queen sized bed her parents had managed to score in an “estate” sale on Whitestone. Still X times larger than the cot she’d worn out so bad there were see-through spots. 

Furs lay scattered from her erratic awakening. Different kinds from different animals. It’s a little hard to tell what each one was, she remembers the whole rabbit monstrosities. Who knows what they could actually be from? Well Imogen would but. 

There’s movement and she’s taken from her studying. She watches the Grounder leader stand. She raises her hands over her head and stretches as far as her muscles will let her go. 

It’s not about what she’s wearing. It’s about what she’s not. 

No armor. No weapons. Nothing of Heda to be seen. She’s wearing an overly fancy chiffon cover up over a simple white shirt. She wears the same, or maybe they’re just similar?, khaki short shorts. And that’s it. That’s all she wears in this space. 

Her smile is as warm as the sun streaming though thinly covered windows. “I was beginning to think you’d never wake.” She brushes some of her lavender hair behind a slightly pointed ear. It’s… she’s wearing her hair fully down. Braidless and it falls in waves around her mid back. 

“I…” Laudna tries to speak. How can she when she’s standing in the presence of the divine? Gods she must look a terrible a mess in comparison. Sweaty black out drunken dancing cannot have been friendly to her exterior. Or interior. Her stomach spins and her head pounds in turn. She grimaces burying into her hands to try and will away the sun. It’s an impossible feat. The sun is stagnant and Exandria is it’s willing dance partner. 

“Where are we?” She stiffens feeling the bed beside her dip with the weight of a Goddess. 

“My bedroom.” Imogen says it so flippantly. As if she didn’t just say those words in that order. Like they mean absolutely nothing. 

“Your. What?” Laudna raises from her hands. Winces against the overwhelming brightness of the room. Of the woman beside her. 

Imogen giggles. Fully and honestly. All Laudna sees is the cute gap between her teeth. Remembers what it felt like when her tongue accidentally slipped between them. Remembers how Imogen gasped something so light it went unnoticed in that moment in the War Room. 

“Is your hearing still bothering you?” Imogen is as gentle as a breeze through the forest. The kind that barely ruffles the scenery, the kind that gets even the most surly to feel something real. 

“No, it’s mostly okay. It’s still sort of muffled over here but…” She trails off picking up too late that Imogen was jesting, or her version of it. She flushes quickly and decides the new room is much more intriguing. 

“You should take this, I can’t imagine your head’s doing well?” Very gingerly her far more spidery hands are taken by calloused finger tips. Fingertips. Thin lines ridge around the nail, smooth. On instinct she follows those lines down to Imogen’s palm when she realizes what she’s doing. 

Her gaze, stuck on an older tiger like fur, it’s cruder than the rest are, older, whips to find mosaic lavender irises glued to her wondering touch. She doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t move a single inch until a stuttering, almost reverent sigh leaves the woman beside her. 

Very carefully Imogen closes her right hand, Laudna’s left, letting her hold onto something small. A vial, it feels like. A vial of what she doesn’t know nor care in the moment. Not when she decides to be bold. It’s not like she’d be any match for the Commander of Exandria, if she wanted she could take her hand away. She could probably rip off Laudna’s hand without so much as a second thought. 

It seems the woman of lavender doesn’t want that, though. Letting Laudna’s much less hardened touch run down to her wrist. If Laudna is anything, it’s insatiable for knowledge. Right now she wants to know what little, tiny, microscopic reactions she can pull from the all too stoic Commander. 

“You said Estheross did these?” It’s an idle question. A check in question. Just in case Imogen does want to take her hand back. She doesn’t. “Did he do those as well?” She points to the many different furs stopping on the tiger that’d stolen her attention.

“He will be adding to them when he gets back from Issylra.” Imogen’s voice is lightly strained. It’s such a small inflection, just the slightest bit out of breath. It’d go unnoticed by even those who’ve seen Imogen at her worst. “And no. Every fur you see is one I personally tended to. This is my bedroom after all.” She speaks proudly of the soft warm blankets, hanging trophies of her exploits. 

“Oh…” Laudna says almost sadly. She knows, deep down scarring is a good thing. They represent power, the further they spread the more people respect the name ‘Heda’, take it, her, seriously. 

Her gaze flicks to rough edged striped fur. It covers a decent chunk of the wall it’d been mounted expertly to. She can’t even tell if it’s pinned or somehow magically stuck there until Imogen deems it time to rearrange.

“Yes, ‘Oh’.” Imogen says tightly. “That there?” She points to where Laudna’s eyes keep brushing to, get’s a nod in lieu of words. “I told you there were many trials to become Heda. One of the more difficult ones consists of being blindfolded and taken deep into the jungles with nothing but a singular weapon.” She says it like she’s recounting a camp story around a bonfire. Laudna watches her just as enraptured as moth to flame. 

“I had four days to make it back to Jrusar. On the final day I ended up in a fight with a saber toothed tiger. I was so exhausted it nearly won.” She smiles reverently lifting just the edge of of her shirt. Beneath lies a set of four evenly spaced scars. Even with her minimal nurses training Laudna can see just how deep each one would’ve been. How Imogen is sitting here is a marvel.

“I had my dagger though. Saber.” The Grounder leader says it on the last notes of a shuddering breath. Laudna, completely lost in story time, runs her fingers back over the raised healed thin scaring right over the veins of Imogen’s wrist. She’s rewarded by a light, high pitched intake. Apprehension? Surprise? 

“Saber.” Laudna stretches each syllable feeling it out. Picturing the weapon both Imogen and Heda favor she puts a name to it’s sharpened steel. Saber. A fitting name for a weapon that, now that she knows, resembles the danger of a real saber tooth, which. Is back from extinction? What does it say about her that she’d skipped over that tidbit entirely? Gods she’s been on Exandria too long. Or maybe not long enough. Who is she to tell the world what should and shouldn’t be? 

Nightmare king’s and saber toothed tigers. Mountain people cults and conclaves hell bent on her down her fall? It’s nothing she could’ve come up with sitting in her room longing after the gigantic blue and green sphere below.

Regardless of all that. It’s fitting. For Imogen. Saber. She’s guarded. Sweet in a hidden way that suits curiosity perfectly. For Heda, Saber makes her sound even more unworldly powerful. 

Snapping her back is another high pitched intake. Did Imogen like it when she ran her softer fingers along those defining lines? Did she want her to stop? All of the languages she’d been forced to learn seem to turn to multi-grammared garbage. Clam tranquil non-tension seems to heighten to something Laudna’s only experienced once. 

The day before in the War Room. When there was dancing around the words ‘can I’? Which she still does. They sit in front of Imogen guarding her away from wanton lips, hands that have stilled out of satisfaction in their wandering, loath to leave warm skin.

“Do that again, St- Laudna.” Imogen course corrects out of no where. 

“What?” The woman who fell from the sky feels more shaken than her broken space shuttle. Imogen has only called her by her given name a total of four times before now. Usually when she had a point to make and needed to make sure Laudna was in fact listening. There was no reason to use it here, in this moment of intimacy. 

Had she done something. Said, something the night before? She can’t imagine she would have. It’s all she really has to hold onto, unbreakingly and always wonderfully predictable. So-

“Why?” She mutters far more broken hearted than she thought she’d sound. A pitiful little grasp like a child to their mother after having tripped. She feels like a child. A lonely bullied girl asking her parents why the other kids didn’t like her, why they were so angry at her choice of friends. She feels like a child. Is it because she’s always left to ask why? Rarely truly answered and left to make her own conclusions? 

“You. Seemed uncomfortable-”

“Me?” She cuts in terse. “You calling me StarLight is one of the only positive things I have. I’m sorry for what I said, or-or did. Please don’t take this away, too.” She ends her sentence cutting off the overflow of engrained begging. The need to make right against a force she couldn’t hope to push against. 

“You did not return it.” Imogen’s voice is the meekest it’s ever been, ever will be probably. It makes Laudna feel like a monster. Some thing well and truly vile. How could anyone, anyone, bring such a sorrowful look to beautiful broken eyes?

“No, I did not.” Laudna, always her own worst enemy starts to slide her fingertips over raised lines. She ignores slighted trembling. “Is there sort of like. An interim name? I’m just not sure I’m ready to burden with my promising myself. Just yet.” Her fingertips run down the full length of lightning to the very beginning of a soon to be marked elbow. 

“There can be, if you wanted. And I would not feel burdened by it.” The Grounder leader speaks like she knows what Laudna means. She more than likely does. She is just as, if not better really, at reading.

A physical weight raises off Imogen when Laudna nods very seriously. She watches tension relax in shoulders that never really fully undo. In reality she may have taken about five pounds off the millions still bowing Imogen down. 

“Perhaps I should. Go check in with my friends?” And just like that carefully strung tensions, hopes and held breaths, crash and burn. Wire thin air disappears entirely. Something tenuous has broken. 

“I will see you again?” Imogen catches her hand as it leaves where she’d been idly circling a calming pattern at the ends of lightning scars. Maybe the most open she’s ever been Imogen does little to hide just how desperately she needed Laudna to confirm. 

“We will meet again, Imogen.” Laudna has never meant more in as little words as she does now echoing sentiment given to her. She purposely uses Imogen’s words. Silently she hopes she’ll hear it as she takes her hand away. Silently she death grips the small vial of whatever it was she was made to hold. Silently she steps towards a very boring dark wood door.

“In this life or the next, Starlight.”

——

Ashton laughs boisterously. Chetney clambers on about something. Something about never making Ashton a personalized toy? Whatever it was it had the whole of everyone in the single room joyously razzing one another. 

She, stands outside the one and only door just listening. She doesn’t feel like smiling. Or is it she doesn’t feel like she deserves to? It’s hard to look inward and try to find anything real. Or at least figure out what each swirling emotion actually means. 

She stands outside purposely leaving herself out. Her lungs hurt as she breathes in. In. In until her ribs protest and her lungs feel ready to burst. No matter how many times she consciously takes in air it still doesn’t feel like enough. It hasn’t since she willingly walked out on a pleading Goddess. 

A Goddess waiting for her to give her a name. Like Laudna is her chosen herald. Her chosen champion and all she needs in return, is a name. Naming things is something Laudna sort of prides herself on. She’d named that little rat puppet Paté and has stuck with that theme throughout her life. 

A marionette locked behind glass. It was far older then the things she’d been given special permission to touch. It’s paint was faded and it’s strings were merely dust just waiting to be put to rest by someone to bump it’s case. She’d named that one Sashimi. She liked that little doll because it was creepy, all the other tweens far too wary to go near it. Or her in turn. 

Back in her cell, hidden deep within her drawings of a planet she’d only dreamed of, was a wolven creature. She’d expertly hid it in a cave beneath her glorified stretched sheet of a bed. Caviar had been there when she’d wake screaming from nightmares. When she was so broken she couldn’t get herself to do much but count her heartbeats until they slowed. 

Imogen is.

She’s.

Far more than just a thing to throw a theme name at. Though if Laudna had to choose she’s leaning towards Sushi. Desirable, packed full with an unending amount of choices. Though always wrapped in seaweed. Predictably where it’s needed. 

She can’t fucking call Imogen Sushi. 

A nickname is made of two parts. Each describes the two most defining parts of a person. What the name giver sees, anyway. What does she think of when she thinks of Imogen? 

She gently lays her forehead against the door in front of her. Ashton has picked up Chetney. All she can hear is old man screeching and her own voice mockingly echoing ‘Sushi’ again and again and again. 

A deep stilling sigh and she reaches for the handle sitting idle in her palm. Her lungs still feel empty. 

“-Throw you through the damn…!” 

Every single body turns to statues the second the door opens. Ashton has Chetney in a football hold halfway towards a window. Letters is on their feet, walking aid out stretched. The few others that share this space are either caught jeering Ashton on or choosing not to look at the carnage happening around them. 

There’s a long. Long moment where Laudna just stares at them. She should be concerned for the older man. He’s sturdy but he’s still like a hundred years old. She should be scolding Ashton, or helping Letters. She should feel her heart warming. 

She can’t. 

All she can’t think of is how statue like everyone is. Is that Imogen? Stone. Statue. Statuesque? No. Yes? 

“Heeeyyy.” Slowly Ashton put’s Chetney down. “You good?” They ask in her absence of a response. “You were super fucked up last night.” He takes a swift old man kick to the shin like a champ limping his way over to her. 

“Yeah, I know I was.” No she doesn’t. 

“So. You’re still sure about having sex with, what was their fuckin’ name? Yu?” They cross their arms over their chest very smug and very much enjoying her flying to life. 

“Excuse- What?!” She grabs them by the shoulders. “What in the Hells are you talking about?” She shakes them violently. She. And Yu? Yu was her first. Pretty much everything besides kissing. And it went to Yu in a drunken stupor? Yu wouldn’tve… Not if she was that drunk. Right? 

She feels sick. Does that mean Imogen, or Heda, found them together? Bile swims to the top of her throat burning her like she deserves it. She can’t even remember what happened after Yu stole her from Fearne mid-dance. 

And then Ashton breaks into a laughter so roarious glass panes shake in their wooden homes. “I knew you didn’t remember shit.” They say easily dodging her wild swing towards their face. “Hey, have some fucking faith in me. There was no way I was leaving you like that, even drunk off my fucking ass.” He let’s her slap his shoulder. 

“Fuck you.” She mumbles wiping her face with her hands. “I don’t have the capacity to fucking deal with this.” She turns to walk right out where she came in. 

“Nothing actually happened. Heda found you passed out in front of a fire. Told her I got it. She told me if I got in her way she’d take my eyes. Nothing happened.” They say sincerely. She barely hears him letting the door slam shut behind her. 

At least she isn’t thinking about. 

Gods damn Sushi. 

Ugh Sushi cannot be the best nickname she came up with. She’s better than that. Sort of. Past patterns be damned. What first comes to mind when she thinks about Imogen? 

War paint, Saber, and those perfectly crafted lightning patterned scars. She thinks of how warm she is. Really, how can anyone person have so much body heat? Especially in Jrusar. It’s always near to boiling in the spires. Waves of heat roil off the ground, the buildings, people. Or is it maybe the world responding to Heda? An average person is always around ninety six degrees on the inside, after all. 

She fists into her hair walking without destination. Like a ghost she moves around people with such an ease they for once, pay her little mind. Her new clothes must be a quick shield. A glamour to hide just how out of place she is. How foreign and lost she truly is without anyone at her side. 

“No one? How hurtful.” 

She almost stops mid stride, a middle aged woman running a small bread stand gives her a quick look. She raises an ‘all good hand’ never fully stopping.

“Really now. After all we’ve been through? I’m wounded.” Delilah coos in her ear. Non existent touch appears on her shoulders the way it would when Laudna was far too gone to take another round of abuse. It’s horribly comforting. Even has she sees rivulets of blood ribbon from the Chancellors chest. Wounded is a word she hates to hear.

“I’m not in the mood.” Laudna mumbles back doing her best to shake off what isn’t really there.

“You know, I find it flattering you think of me when you’re at your worst. And I was… Worried that country bumpkin might take my place as your favorite.” Her ever tormentor almost sings. Her cold encompasses everything. Blocks out overwhelming heat. 

“You flatter yourself.” Laudna tries to be defiant. It feels like blasphemy. Hubris. How dare she speak to Delilah that way? Her chest blooms with guilt. The instinct to apologize stronger than she would’ve hoped. 

“I’m going to enjoy breaking this new backbone of yours. And we both know I know exactly,” The touch on her body moves to a very. Very sensitive spot. “Where to start.” Up and down the length of her back nails that are in actuality stuck up in space, either frozen solid or recovering from a gunshot, rake over long since healed lines of Delilah’s promises. 

This time Laudna does stop walking. She’s at the edge of the spire anyway hundreds of feet into the sky. People bustle across the crack between two building she’d found doing whatever it is people do when they have daily lives to live. 

There’s a hollow pit inside of her. It’s been there for as long as she can remember. There have been so many things lost to it, desperately trying to get rid of it and

She understands a lot very quickly. Every single “later” since crashing to Exandria have finally caught up with her. Each later takes the place of spectral touches. They wrap around her like weighted chains dragging her to slump to her knees. 

They pile taking the places of nicknames. They erase War Room kisses, the hope of saving her people. Do they know just how strenuous their living actually is? Has she for once put on a performance good enough? Is she good enough to save them all? There’s so many things she can’t give an ounce of energy to. She can’t get herself to stand up again, instead staring down at jungle-y woods and sharpened rocks. 

Wind gusts all around her. Her dark hair obscures her vision of trees and rocks and it would be so easy to lean forward. 

She does. 

Until her palms lay against the ground in front of her. 

“Life isn’t easy.” She whispers out at the same time her mother speaks to her in her soft lilted cadence. She always did like the way her mother’s accent sounded. She’d always done her best to mimic it. 

“It isn’t easy but it’s worth it. There’s beauty everywhere. Remember that when you feel like you can’t keep going.” She and her father mumble into the space between her hung down head and the cliffs edge. 

“Stay alive, Laudna.” Delilah comes unbidden and unwanted.

As if on cue she spots a family of jungle cats. One larger then the other two looking at the babies in a universal tired mom way. The babies fight each other playfully, their mother making some sort of movement. A noise she can’t hear, and then they disappear back into the scenery. 

How can she blot something so beautiful with her monstrosity? 

“I will see you again?” Imogen asks desperately reaching without actually doing so. Of course she will.

The warmth of the sun has moved across her frozen body. She’d run out of silent tears ages ago still fixed on the same patch of wooded stones so far down. Whitestone may not have prepared her for much, or anything really. But at least she hasn’t gotten vertigo. All that wishing to be anywhere but in space did pay off. 

She doesn’t look up when she imagines her parents faces. They’ve slowly been losing their features, their faces becoming more and more generic the more time that passes. Ruefully she smiles to herself. Says to them in her head ‘I told you so.’ Her mother would tell her to quite being childish then crack a small smile. Her father would roll his eyes, maybe muss up her hair just because he knows how much she hates it. 

They would be proud of her. 

Proud as she dusts off her hands, it swirls and falls in liminal space just like charcoal did in recycled air. They’d be proud of her for standing up and walking away from the easier option. 

Does she have any idea where the hell to go? No. Anywhere is better than the siren song of whistling winds. One step at a time. Right left right left right left. Again and again until something finally clicks. 

Two. Two! Two two two. Two words to encompass the whole of someone dear. She isn’t just nicknaming Imogen is she? Imogen is only one part of someone split right down the middle. 

She has to name Heda too.

Chapter Text

What is in a name? What makes a name? How does a name take the meanings they’re given? Can a name be taken and twisted the way words are?

Well. Sure. It’s easy to take the meaning of a name and suddenly find a sour taste where one hadn’t been. They can hide sugary sweet longings just as well as putrid jealousy. A name holds the meaning and power each wielder chooses it does. 

A mother calling her child’s full name will always hold more weight than that of anyone else. The whisper of a ghost of a name against a lover’s skin will scorch where it might’ve frozen in a pervious interaction. 

A name is a riddle unsolvable even by the person it’s been knighted to. It’s not really theirs to begin with, is it? A sound of constants and vowels for others to weaponize. 

“Starlight.” 

It smooths over Laudna’s over active mind like a balm. 

“Laudna.” 

It coats over the parts of her brain steaming from exertion. Burned to a crisp trying so hard to find the gentle inside of her. She thinks of lavender hair and drawling words and soft, calloused fingers on her body and- 

She scrubs a hand over her face still not having stopped her forward motion. She’s still walking through the spires of Jrusar just taking in the scenery. She watches a woman wait for the perfect moment to drop a gold piece just in front of her child. A man split apart a fluffy steaming bread staring lovingly into the eyes of a person who looks at him like he’s the center of the universe. 

Birds dance in the air courting one another. Beautiful insects flit and buzz, some swatted at getting to close to someone not looking for their company. Those same little guys will glow in bioluminescent rainbows whence the sun sets. 

She takes a moment to remember what it felt like to dream, really truly dream. Pre-Delilah levels of beauty shift from book pages to her actuality. She can hear those ancient bird calls. She taste the rich robust taste of Exandria’s air. She doesn’t have to fill in blanks, she doesn’t have to imagine anymore. She’s right here.

And it’s beautiful. 

Beautiful. 

It’s okay to move past just acknowledging it. Something that’s obvious on the surface, but really fully letting it digest its- 

She takes a deep breath finally becoming an immovable object rather than an unstoppable force. The people around her scoff or glare at this random woman stopped in the middle of the street. They don’t scorn her, now that she’s dressed far more alike the Grounders. 

Each and every single one of these people has a name. She, has a name too. A small crack at the corner of her mouth feels like a full toothed Cheshire grin. There’s so much power in being anonymous. It’s fun being a ghost in a crowd that pays her only enough mind to run into her statuesque form. 

When she thinks of Imogen she thinks of storms. Cloudy, thunderous, bold, unmissable. They have the potential to kill millions, if they so chose. Tornados and rain and unending snow… But Imogen isn’t just any storm. 

She’s a thunder storm. She’s electric. Each slight and tentative touch feels like it sparks against Laudna’s most assuredly tanning olive toned skin, unforgettable. Imogen is diffused shocks of purple light behind heavy dark clouds. She is the distant rattle of thunder always threatening for more, if she so decided her enemies deserved her full ire. 

And the thing about Laudna? She’s always dreamed of storms. She’d been lulled to sleep by ancient wails of recorded rain soaking once paved roads. The closest she ever really got was when she was afforded the luxury of a shower. Rotating schedules to save already questionable water and all that. She’d close her eyes and let the water wash over her. It felt like it cleaned away whatever sins the rest of the population saw flitting from her far too trusting edges. 

Though, there’s no lightning or thunder in the shower. Hm. Maybe storms are far too vague to describe the sheer energized, controlled sharpness Imogen flexes in her fingertips. She’s-

“Move.” A voice says. A shoulder checks hers and she doesn’t bother to find who did it. Instead she just sighs and starts to walk once again. 

——

She doesn’t stop until she’s back outside the little shelter her friends occupy. The sheer lack of noise is far more concerning than rowdy swearing and breaking of things. Perhaps they went out, they aren’t confined by any means. Perhaps she can collapse onto the cot she has yet to claim without awkward tension. 

Then she opens the door. 

“Can we talk?” Ashton looks at the wall beside her head sitting on their cot alone. “Chet and Letters decided to explore so, you’re stuck with me… Before you ask.” They say it nonchalantly easily flipping one of their wrists as they spoke. 

“I’m sorry for storming,” She nearly get’s side tracked. “, out the way I did. I know you were just trying to lighten the load you saw on my shoulders.” Laudna gently shuts the door crossing the short distance to sit beside Ashton. They still don’t look at her. 

“Oh Laudna! How I am so deeply sorry for accidentally hurting your feelings!” Laudna deepens her voice, gravels it the way she used to do with a long lost rat puppet, minus the cockney accent she gave him. Dramatically she drapes a hand over her forehead knowing Ashton can only handle deep pressured touch she’s just not capable of giving them, her strength abysmal. “However shall I repent?” She turns to them smiling small where they smirk at her.

“For starters you could never imply Yu and I had a thing ever again.” Finding her gentle she lightly taps his arm. “Secondly, if you’re going to be an asshole, at least be the lovable kind.” Hitting them as hard as she can she punches their shoulder a second time. 

They smile brightly at her, even if it’s a small gesture only half up on one side. “Alright, no more teasing on the relationship front. Unless it’s to point out you’ve never had a partner-”

“Hey! Neither have you!” Laudna shoves away a playful inch crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Fair, but that’s by choice. I’ve been with several very attractive people. Have you even kissed someone?” Ashton’s cocky self slips back into the place a scared child had been. 

“I have!” Instantly Laudna’s eyes go wide. Ashton raises their eyebrows very clearly enjoying this conversational high ground. “I mean, I have.” Her face is only getting redder and redder. Absently she places her fingertips to her lips both as an attempt to hide and because she can still feel her there. 

“Mm. Very smooth. Does that mean you’re like. I don’t fucking know, with her then?” Ashton asks earnestly. They lean back on their palms locking their elbows, head leant back and lulled in Laudna’s very rigid direction. 

“I don’t know.” She clenches her hands on top of her newly acquired jeans. Scratches at the subtly raises lines feeling them beneath her nails, her callousing fingertips. She almost misses the quiet puff of air leave Ashton before she realizes her mistake. “Wh- I mean. No. I don’t- We aren’t” 

“Relax. I won’t say anything.” He softens his eyes giving her a very fond look. “Even if I did I have a funny fucking feeling whatever train wreck this is, is just getting fucking started.” He smiles his signature shit eating grin easily taking Laudna’s sarcastic glare. 

Really she’s just glad for a distraction. Especially one that invokes diffused lavender light. 

——

It’s not until much later, and much higher spirits, does a knock come at the shelter door. She, Ashton, Chetney, and Letters have the spent the better part of the day just. Being. They talk about the couple of years Laudna missed, though she subverts why exactly.

They share in what little food had been left of their very generously provided ‘you just fell from the sky and then got kidnapped and that sucks, eat this so you don’t die’ present from Heda. Eventually they’re going to have to join in the Grounders society. At least enough to trade around the spires. 

But that can wait til later. Every eye turns to Laudna because she’s been appointed Sky-People leader somehow. Another name. Long and not all that thought out in the slightest. She hates the bite of bitterness it brings. So much for that sweet and kind anonymity. 

Another sharp bought of knocking. Laudna’s tired dark eyes lag from each of the people around her in their loosely formed circle. Sighs heavily because she knows exactly who stands outside that creaky wooden door bathed in the remnants of liquid golden light. 

She doesn’t hesitate wiping her fingers on her pants before standing. She fixes the torn laces wrapped around her half up hair, smooths her shirt giving a quick rough tug on the sides of her jacket shaking out any remaining silliness. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Orym.” She already looking down, already frowning slightly at the hard look the warrior gives her. He seems much calmer with her presence than he was all those days ago. His fingers don’t twitch toward the handle of his sword. Has he named it the way Imogen named her dagger Saber? Did he acquire it through knighting or by trial? 

“Heda is requesting your presence in an hours time.” He hands her a folded parchment without the unease he’d been carrying for days. It’s refreshing to see a gentle, closed mouthed smile on his face when their fingers accidentally brush. It’s one of the most comforting and saddest things Laudna’s ever had to try and decipher. 

“Thank you, Orym. I’ll be sure to be timely.” She tries to give what she thinks is a fond look back. How she actually does she’ll never know. Orym didn’t grimace the way her peers on Whitestone had so, maybe she figured out how to placate her more “uncanny” features. 

All she get’s in response is a tiny head nod. Then Orym turns with a soldier-esque march in the opposite direction. Laudna breaths a breath of relief. Really the two of them hadn’t had a moment besides his threat at the last celebration she’d be privy to. Whatever Imogen, or maybe even Fearne, had said must’ve been enough to smooth his sharpened worry. 

The parchment in her hands feels so different from the stuff on Whitestone. It’s firm and strong. Unwashed from time or corrosive hand oils, really has Laudna actually touched paper before? She’s always had on special gloves, still. The differences are night and day in her hands. 

“I’ll be where I found you last night. Arrive if you wish and if not, I understand.

Imogen” 

The dumbest love-sick stupid sigh escapes her before she can stop it. Even with the slowly returning chatter Ashton catches her eyes giving a quick ‘all good?’ Eye brow scrunch. She nods tucking the paper away and heading for what she hopes is a good moment in her life. 

——

Finding the spot she’d drunkly smoked a joint was a surprising task. Apparently she’d been more messed up than she originally thought. All twists and turns and somehow she ended up back where she started? That was truly mind boggling, really it shouldn’tve been possible but. She eventually found her way again sweating about the sun slowly sipping down under the horizon line. 

The area looked so different in the dulling day light. No waves of shadowed bodies. No stretched silhouettes or shouting voices. Just the calm serene peace of the forest. 

She leans against the same tree she’d found refuge in. Stares out across burned pyres and traces of a party. Starlight. Because she reminds someone like Imogen of the stars, and bright guiding light. Like that’s supposed to make sense. Someone as powerful, sharpened, strong, should hate Laudna. Right? 

It’s not like Laudna’s any of those things. She’s resilient in the way cockroaches are. Stubborn like an ink stain and far too ‘unnerving’ for the average person. 

But that’s the thing about names isn’t it? Very rarely does one actually get to give it to themselves. Good or bad. Deserved or not. If Imogen sees her that way then there isn’t much she can do about it. 

“ThunderStorm.” She whispers to herself. It feels. Mm. Imogen isn’t erratic and loud like thunder. She’s far more stealthy. Far more calculated and dangerous than a cowardice roar. “Lightning… Stormy… Flash…” idly she rambles a few tests just to feel them in her mouth, hear how they sound out loud. 

She snaps her head up at the sound of movement. So subtle its far too hard make out where it comes from, her ear still fogged on the one side. With the caution of a woman staring down the eyes of a predator she presses against the bark behind her. Scans the area for lavender digging her nails until pain spikes up her entire arm.

The forest offers her little in response. It sits exactly as it is idly shifting in the winds of Jrusar. She sighs lightly shaking her head. Always the worrier her mother tried so hard to stop her becoming. Worry leads to shaking hands, she would say. 

“Lightning…” Laudna mumbles looking up at the sky like answers to her next, daunting question would appear before her. “What are you, Heda?” She rolls Heda as hard as the Commanders features go, her face absently coping her stoic stares. 

Heda is power. She’s smart, careful, fearsome. Just the mention of her has everyone with a brain trembling. She is the final say. She is authority in its truest and rawest form. It doesn’t take more than a look to get even the most obnoxious and idiotic to fall in perfect line. 

Heda is faster than Imogen is. Which is already incredibly fucking fast. She’s damn near impossible to actually keep up with. Not only is Heda the combatant of the populace, she’s also the wit of anyone Laudna’s interacted with. 

Her words are always so confident. She takes no time to think them out already so very sure in her own self and ideals. She’s so sure. Of herself and her decisions and her most trusted people. 

And yet. She isn’t a tyrant. Her people respect her because of her actions. She meets her own standards, shows not only the people of Jrusar, but Exandria what other looks like to be a real leader. 

She’s absolutely striking. Like watching a fighter go though their motions until it looks like their dancing. 

“What are you, Heda?” 

“A bitch of a woman.” 

Laudna jolts reacting far too late to steel. Cool sharp metal hits her throat so fast she feels blood spill down her skin. She knows the bite of Saber. This is not Saber. 

Slowly moving from her hidden spot directly behind where Laudna had been waiting croaks a voice she thought to be dead. Emoth Kade saunters into her view chuckling something deep in her chest. She smirks very much enjoying the pure shock still holding Laudna frozen. 

No matter how hard Laudna screams for her body to move it won’t. Instead she flounders not able to comprehend what the hell is happening. How the fuck is Emoth here. How the Hells did she manage to get so far into Heda’s personal territory? There are Grounders, guards everywhere. 

“Stunned to silence. Where oh where has that spine of yours gone? Has she broken you already?” Kade sneers at her pressing the edge of her dagger harder into Laudna’s throat. 

Whatever fear had been holding her frozen breaks against the heat of her instant protective rage. 

“Shut your-”

The second her mouth opens, her hands coming up to try and force the older woman away, Emoth moves her free hand to her old, wrinkled mouth. Opens her palm and blows a fine green-ish dust into the sky-woman’s face. 

On instinct she inhales coughing uncontrollably. At the same time her knees give way to her feeble weight her vision swims. What was once Emoth is knowing more than a shadow humming an unknown dreary tune gathering Laudna’s limp form into a manageable heap. 

“Your biggest flaw, Laudna. Is your predictability.” 

And then there is nothing.

Chapter Text

It’s cresting on twilight. Swimming blues and gorgeous pastel greens swirl around light lace and silken drags of milky white. Stars dapple and decorate sparkling like dripping diamonds on a royals neck. 

The night is quiet. Glowing insects and amphibian things croak, chirp, buzz in such a familiar way it’s beyond easy to tune out. That kind of noise is no more than a distraction. There isn’t room for distractions of any kind. 

Yet her mind races. Sprints with trivial thoughts that feel so selfish of her to even have. A romance? In times like this? It’s stupid. The Conclaves are so close to an actual world war if she so much as breathes in one direction too hard it’ll be considered favor. 

Dozens of children fell from the sky. They’ve already killed hundreds… She. She’s killed hundreds. So many bodies burned from either the outside or the in. Gods, she’s dangerous. And so very hard to understand. 

One second she’s literally, actually, frolicking. Skipping with a stupid smile on her face so genuine it boarders on manipulation. But that slight evil look, the one so subtle only manipulators know to look for it, is just not there. No matter how hard she wills it to show up in those trusting, far too trusting, eyes… It’s just never there. 

Not when she whispers her wants. Or how terrified she is for her friends, though she’s never once been afraid for herself. Has she? Running straight into danger every time some one else needs help. 

It’s incredibly frustrating. She’s always, always, at her step. Never behind or in front of. Just exactly at her side. Matching a pace she’s purposely set to impossible. Well, it’s supposed to be impossible to keep up with her unnaturally heightened speed. Yet there she is. All drabs of dark color and beautiful, soft, and far too sad looks. She’s always there when gazes wonder from their undistracted scanning.

Except for right now. In the cooling night of Jrusar where fires light distant streets and the bumble of people has faded to bards, drink, and song, she is alone. She scans like she’s used to. Assesses her surroundings and notes that yet another hour of time has passed in full and utter solitude. 

She hates being alone. 

She’s always alone. Has always been alone. Even if she has a few close people she will always keep them at arms length. It’s safer for people when they only orbit the gravity that’s surrounded her, her entire life. She’s seen it drag down everyone she’s let even the tiniest bit inside her personal circle. 

But she? With those kind and so so tired eyes she reaches past the invisible force like it’s nothing. She touches the scars on her body and it doesn’t hurt like everyone else. The soft pads of her fingers trail her skin until they push straight into her chest. Pulverizes her rib cage and cradles her guarded heart in hands so sure it’s terrifying. 

And then a breeze reminds her exactly how late it really is, under a tree that faces burned pyres and littered party remains. The deepening of blue to all encompassing black is all she needs to remind herself why she’s never allowed to get distracted. Distractions only ever lead to one thing; the never ending addition to the weight she carries. 

She can feel it when she pushes off the cracked bark of the furrowing, windswept leaves. They ripple like waves. Maybe like the ones in oceans so vast they’re incomprehensible. It’s hard to know, never really having gone anywhere but Marquette. It is her domain after all, where would she go in the first place? 

“Imogen.” 

Oh. 

So it’s been that long, has it? 

Her eyes drift over to a very tall, very deceptively built man approaching her. He’s got a gentle sway as he walks towards her, his usual so gentle smile coated in concern. His hair is long, and dark and dragged up into a very fanciful bun. Unlike his usual dress he wears a transparent blue chiffon shirt fully open down to his hips, the open sides folded one over the other then tucked into his pants keeping his middle hidden. 

She says nothing as he approaches. He returns the sentiment instead walking straight up to her with only the slightest hesitation. Comparing him to everyone in her life he moves with the most fluidity in her space, it’s as refreshing as it is bothersome. There really is only other person who never even stuttered in her invisible barbed wire; she’s not the one wrapping her arms around her shoulders. 

It’s Dorian strategically moving his taller, wider body to hide her from any wondering souls. It’s Dorian holding her despite her making zero effort to return his affection. It’s Dorian that understands her in a way not a single other soul has been able to. 

He’s royalty; kingdoms have cities and Conclaves have kingdoms after all. He understands the dynamics and power sharing. He get’s why she will never fully let him in. He’s the only one who can share the heavy look she slides to him during meetings. 

“Time to head back. You have a very busy day ahead of you tomorrow.” Like taking away a blanket in winter his warmth leaves with his retreating body. 

“I’m aware.” Is all Imogen can get herself to say. She’s gripping Saber with the strength of a thousand Commanders. Every Commander before her swims with power in her veins, and most of them are pissed. Most of them make her feel like she’s about to lose control of herself and her very carefully tucked away feelings. 

It’s times like this, walking back to her room stoic, angry, and so very very sad, that she’s reminded why she never let’s anyone close. 

——

The following day is like every other. Long. Boring. Constant counting from one to four as she taps against the pummel of her dagger. One, two, three, four. Grip Saber’s handle until the muscles in her palm aches. Restart. 

“Look. I know there isn’t much we can do, we need to get Tal or Wilde on our side.” Yu paces the length of the War Room, table where it should be beneath laces and in the perfect window for sunlight. 

“Does it matter?” Heda sits stoic in her throne forgoing her focus ritual. Instead Saber creaks victim to her unending grip. 

“Wh-” The Unnerving Unseelie stand-in stops their horribly uneven steps to look at her like she’s damned their entire people. “Of course it does. They haven’t done anything but experience trauma after trauma. They’re kids, Commander.” They spit that last word like their venom would do more than sting against a Commander’s skin. 

“Repeating my words back to me? Nothing more to add?” Heda shifts to sit the tallest she can without leaving her seat. She raises her eyes up, yet looks down at the utterly offended Unseelie with more steel than her blades. 

“I shouldn’t have to convince you not let innocent people die.” Yu moves forwards, anger so prevalent in their glare. Heda holds their gaze and. Something gross. Something. Heavy. Sits in her chest forcing her to relent not only the constant game of power but also their point. 

She sighs heavily. Rests her free palm against her forehead taking a very calculated moment to get her thoughts in order. She’s losing her one track, distractions at the wooded sides of her train beckoning her to forget herself. They call to her in voices accented in a away she’s only heard from one kingdom deep in the heart of Tal’dorei. She speaks far more anciently, the way only the oldest of the old in Whitestone still try to up hold. 

Yu shifts a step closer. Her piercing eyes fly to them freezing their body in place. “I must say, Yu. I find it incredibly interesting you care so much.” She holds up her free hand to stop their words. She stands with the grace of a hundred dancers, glides to a stop in front of silvery white hair and oil-spill skin.“Orym was informed the only few to leave were the ones unwilling to change their views.” She glares at the space between their darkened gaze. 

“So Issylra and the Ruidians?” Yu looks wholly unsurprised pinching the bridge of their nose. Their annoyance is palpable. Understandable. If she herself were anyone else she’d get it, the overwhelming weight of change and it’s erosion on the psyche. Instead she heralds thousands of voices all at once forcing herself to remain the only one left. 

“Yes. Without convincing them both we will be at a loss. It stands two for, two against. I fear Wildemount will choose to stay in their unbiased safety. It will come down to Tal’dorei and Tal’dorei alone.” The fluidity in which she speaks feels like someone else speaking through her. She’s fully conscious, can change what’s leaving her with very little, unnaturally quick thought, though it feels almost like she isn’t alone in her talking. 

It’s not that she is or isn’t. She’s both alone and so viscerally surrounded by voices at all times it’s threatened her well-being far more than just once. Now is no different. Her wants and needs and duties all different tracks begging her to diverge into the forests, desserts, dungeons of her mind. Now is not the time. 

“Well that’s good, right? They seemed receptive to Laudna’s defense.” Yu says her name and Imogen flares in The Commander’s chest derailing their now shared train of thought towards starry skies and rotating beams of light high up in their guiding houses. 

Her pensive, micro reactions must come across as deep inner thinkings. Yu watches her fight to get that soft accent, her softer hands, gentle dark eyes the color of umber in the sun- 

She closes her eyes blind against lighthouse guides and wills stars away like clearing dust. “They were, yes.” She chokes on the syllables of Laudna. Can’t and won’t say them out of sheer bleeding hurt. When she wrote her understanding she hadn’t expected rejection to hurt so badly. 

“We should bring her here, or at least send a warning to give Laudna a chance to make her place or. Or I don’t know. Just say something we can’t.” Yu relaxes at the same moment Heda bristles. Her teeth grind and she swallows her instant rage. 

Unfortunately Yu is using logic and logics are far easier to follow than feelings are to chase away. “That. I will send word for her. Tal’dorei and Wildemount can wait an extra day or two.” She doesn’t get the chance to put together a plan to avoid going near where L- she is. 

“I’ll go. It’s better if one of us tell her and, no offense oh powerful Heda, but you going will cause a panic amongst the general populace.” Yu is already turning around to face the door, a stupid move considering how fast The Commander can move. 

“Be timely, Yu. There is none to waste.” Heda calls after their retreating form slumping straight down into her throne. She buries her face in her hands shaking away the hardness of self preservation around her body. 

Each chunk of weathered stone slips off of her crumbling to nothing around her feet. She crumbles into nothing feeling her eyes sting. The voices chide her for being weak. They call her a disgrace in the same moment others tell her to feel. That feeling is the only thing keeping her from going over the edge and losing what makes Imogen herself. 

What even is Imogen anymore? She’s a child to a father who never wanted her and a mother who left her to pick up the pieces she left behind. She wasn’t supposed to be this. She wasn’t supposed to be anything but a farmers daughter until she was graced by the whispering touch of death. 

She wan’t supposed to be a trained killer, a strategic genius, or the undisputed ruler of a world that hadn’t, and will never love her. Imogen was lost the day her mother decided to abandon her. The day Estheross came to her farmhouse remorseful and sorry. 

She certainly wasn’t supposed to be sitting here silently letting tears slip down her cheeks slowly wetting the material of her shorts. Yet she sits like a wounded puppy gripping her hair like it’s the last line to life she has. She sobs once, twice, looses the will to remain a solid presence collapsing into the black hole of Heda’s power. 

It holds her in ways no one else has ever attempted. Cradles her like the lost and horrified child she is, deep down under layers of banding rock. Voices whisper their sympathies while others chastise her for weakness. 

Then, in the depths of utter despair and hurt she hears so clearly, so crisply, it forces her to pause. 

“Why does it hurt so bad?” 

It had been Estheross standing over her when she was young. The frustration of being thrust into a life that was never meant for her had been devastating to her performance. They’d been doing the same drills over and over until she broke down, much like in the present. He’d asked her then too, when she wailed about how painful her chest, her confusing feelings, had become. 

Then it had been the loss of her mother. That was the reason she hurt so deeply. And now it was the loss of her. Her gentleness that pushed through all the rough, torn pieces of weathered amour and found the heart that still beat beneath it all. The chill of her was the perfect displace for the heat that courses through the very essence of Heda’s cursed being. 

When she grazed the raised deliberate scars on her forearms it felt like they sang in her kind, soft praise. They didn’t burn like every other touch they’d experienced. It didn’t feel wrong. Her presence didn’t feel uncomfortable, even in just the month or so they’d been in each others orbit. 

She’s the only person Imogen has ever begged for. She’s the only one to know what the touch of Imogen feels like. Her so curious dark umber eyes are the only ones to see passed the walls thrown up in defense. She looks at Imogen like she’s the world itself. 

In a way that’s true. Heda nor Imogen can actually tell the earth to move, or change the directions of flowing water. It’s the voices that tell her where to go, what to avoid, and how to use the world to her advantage. 

Right now they’re telling her to dry her face. There are people stomping up the stairs straight for The War Room. In an unnatural instant the tears stop and she silences herself. Listens hard hearing the faintest echoing of worn out shoe soles and chattering voices. Then she’s righting her back. Steeling her composure and slips into crumbled rumble becoming the marble statue befitting a Commander. 

In seeming no time at all she’s able to pick out exactly who it is dumb enough to storm her tower. Of course it’d be-

“Where the fuck is she?” The ornate heavy doors of the War Room burst open like they’re made of paper. It might be impressive if the person now tearing towards her weren’t so. Emotionally fueled all anger and little indignation they’d listen to her response if it wasn’t what they wanted to hear. 

This, she registers, is Ashton. Friend to L- her. Followed by her second, Chetney and another person aided by Yu. Letters, a nickname or not it’s still undetermined. The shock of his question hits her a little late. What the Hells do they mean.

“Speak to me that way again and I will show you exactly who it is you are threatening.” Heda is out of her seat not because of her ire. Imogen can’t sit still. His words ring through the carefully curated forests in her mind derailing whatever voices had been leading her train of thought. 

“Like I give a shit. Where. Is. She.” They step forward met instantly by Yu getting in front of them, Letters no longer needing the help up too many stairs. 

“I told you if I brought you here you had to act like a normal person!” Yu shouts. More steps and Orym, Dorian, and Fearne join in this impromptu meeting. She doesn’t even have time to bark out the word ‘enough’ before Orym has Ashton on his back. Dorian looks to Heda while Fearne calmly stands between Chetney and Letters. 

“Cease.” When she speaks there is no need to rely on The Commander’s strength. In one word that booms through the room every body goes rigid. “Explain.” She moves her eyes to Yu. They blanch at her forgetting the mess of people behind them; slowly untangling and standing in a forced circle. Her guards around L- Her friends. 

“Laudna never came back.” Letters and Chetney speak at once. 

“What.” The word ghosts like a lightning strike across every face, including her own. The Sky people share confused looks. Her already incredibly thin patience turns translucent. 

“The little fucker.” Ashton points to Orym who only holds Seedling more threateningly. “Dropped off a note or some shit. She left right after.” They dared to try and step forward. Dorian grabbed their shoulder squeezing hard despite his calming facial expression. 

Heda moves her eyes to her trusted, shortest, guard. He nods his assurance that that in fact was true. She knows there is no way he could be involved beyond that. He and Dorian were around her all the way up until she went to meet L- her. 

“I never saw her.” It’s Imogen forcing Heda to be cordial. She can be The Commander at any other time. “I assumed she was with you.” She slides to look at each of the Sky people carefully watching the confusion, the need to make sense, run across each of their faces. 

“She wouldn’t run.” Chetney says like it has to be stated. He’s looking solely at Orym, his older face hard. “Before anyone says something stupid like that, she wouldn’t leave.” His face says nonchalant old man. The hardness of his voice tells what’s really sitting in his knowing gaze. Perhaps that old man facade makes him the Orym of the Sky People. Perceptive and far too sneaky for their goods. 

“I might not know her like you do, but I agree. You,” Heda looks directly at the Sky’s second. “Know our politics. If she were to run you would all die.” She leaves it at that. Her heart is starting to pound with an anxiety she still hasn’t been able to master. 

“What did your note say?” Letters asks uneased. His smile is slight and forced. They must be the middle ground amongst L- her immediate reach. 

“It was nothing more than asking her to meet so we could talk. When I say you will all die, I am no where near joking.” Truth and lie. A blend she’s far too used to tasting. It’s got an extra shot of bitter that bites the back of her tongue. 

“A lot of people want her dead.” Yu says gaining every single scrap of attention. Imogen’s fingers shake tap tap tap tapping against Saber’s familiar pummel, its handle will have to be re-wrapped. She’s going to break it if she doesn’t.  

“Where were you supposed to meet if not right here?” Letters doesn’t mean to press on the delicate kill switch they are. If they weren’t so close to. Her. They’d be in serious danger. 

“Do not treat this like an interrogation. I am going. If you wish to come do so. Orym, Dorian, Fearne. With me.” She pushing past the tense bubble of emotion heading straight to the spot she’d been left alone.

Chapter Text

The first thing that registers is comfort. Maybe not comfort comfort but, there’s a docile familiarity deep in her chest. The feel of rope digging into her wrists, the ache in her arms and the tips of shoes just barely grazing the ground beneath them. It lures her away from remembering what happened to her. It guides her straight into the past forgetting she hasn’t been on Whitestone in almost two months. Docile remembrance of a face she doesn’t even know the fate of, is she alive or dead floating up there in space, holds her like a dance partner leading her straight back into unconsciousness. 

Why was she unconscious in the… 

Her eyes fly open. Her chest heaves. Anything and everything hits at the same time sending her straight into a panic attack. She can’t move, her arms stung up above her bound to something cool and sturdy. Her feet scrape against the flooring of. 

Is she inside a fucking bus? Rows of rotting double and single seats barely make sense, eyes darting around unable to even twitch any other part of her body. They’re dark green color is nearly obscured by growing ivy. Dust and beautiful purple, pink, and white wild flowers cover everything cladding drab decaying metal in life anew. Life really does find a way, huh?

“Exactly when I thought you’d wake up, predictable as a clock I’d say.” Grating like nails to chalkboard the last voice Laudna remembers hearing creaks and croaks into the far too quiet space around her. Foliage is beautiful and all, but this thick it acts more like a sound dampener… Very smart of the old bat. If it’s hard to hear inside then it’s hard to hear from the outside too. 

“I guess I should give credit where it’s due. You did manage to shock me while you were out.” Emoth emerges sliding in between a crack in long since disused, broken glass doors. Was she just waiting outside for the fun of it? Or was she just bored of sitting and waiting for Laudna to regain her senses? Either way the woman of starlight only manages a glare. She isn’t gagged, but she can’t speak either. A paralytic? Where in the Nine Hells did Emoth manage to get that? 

The older woman must sense her question. She only smirks reaching down to pick something up behind the back of one of the bus seats. She holds up a small glass vial about the size of her palm. Red-yellow liquid spins and spins even when she stops the motions of her boney, cracking wrist. 

“Turns out the grand cure to radiation poisoning is a temporary fix. In all honesty I was incredibly close to running out and dying a horrible painful death.” She approaches Laudna, heels clicking against the nary exposed rusted bus flooring. “I’m sure you remember what that entails?” Her mumbling laughter is low, evil. 

Laudna does remember. She’s spent nights plagued by the faces of burned children. She can still hear that mans voice pleading with her to just shoot him dead. Melted bodies surrounded by ash and spaceship rubble has been one of her main appetite killers for weeks. So many dead. All of those burned souls her fault. She doesn’t even like fire, doesn’t hate it but if she had to choose an element it wouldn’t be the most unpredictable and dangerous of them all. 

How is it she always saddled with something? Saddled with the weight of carrying on her parents reputations. Saddled with having to double as both daughter and prop when she was brought to the ‘important people’ meetings on Whitestone. She’s been saddled as the Sky-people leader, still a horribly unthought out name she really hopes to change. She’s stuck with the homage of flames and ash when all she’s ever wanted was the freedom of wind. The ability to choose her path, change it on nothing more than a whim.

She craves the stability of earth. A hard sturdy foundation for her to rely on when her whims get to be too exhausting. When her currents suddenly sweep her out with the tides of her emotions rather than let her lazily float down their rivers just taking a moment to be.

“Fortunately for me I managed to grab a few things on my way out, courtesy of a certain Commander.” Emoth’s face falls smug looking up at Laudna now only a foot or so away from her hanging body. “Making deals will do that though.” Her words cut deep. Even if Imogen had come back that minute betrayal still stung in the wounds Laudna has yet to find time to clean. 

“You might be predictable dear, but. Has anyone ever told you you were special?” Changing direction quick as wind Emoth spins on her heel taking a seat along the metallic wall to Laudna’s left. “Blink once for yes and twice for no darling."

They never break eye contact. Luanda blinks once. She has been told she’s special. By Delilah after one of her many many torture session had gone well for the (once?) leader of Whitestone. She’d actually praise her victim on those days. Those days she’d reward her with stubs of charcoal and time to actually heal. Confusion overrides the mixing of bile, horror, and life ending anxiety coursing through steadily speeding blood flow and chemical output. Why in the Nine Hells is Emoth asking?

“Turns out you, Laudna from space, are my magnum opus. There’s something… Different in you. I have no where near sophisticated enough equipment to tell me what exactly, but something fundamental was changed about you. Down the make up of what courses through your bones.” The old crone swirls the vial, about half full of red-yellow liquid. Laudna’s eyes widen and her stomach drops. 

“Oh yes my dear. This is exactly what you think it is.” Besides Emoth sits a black, very deep briefcase. Two locks fly open with the press of two small golden buttons on either side of the dark metal, or maybe carbon fiber, box. Inside sits a drill, empty vials just like one in her palm, various other liquids with their labels facing away from Laudna’s eye line, and needles. Long, thick, horribly familiar needles. 

They’re the ones Delilah would delight in showing off. She’d let them glint in the bright fluorescents of her torture lab and laugh at the dread in Laudna’s eyes. Emoth smiles the exact sound of those horrible haunting cackles. 

“You should count yourself lucky. For as long as I need you you’ll stay alive, Laudna.” Placing the glass container holding the very essence of Laudna’s being she closes the case. Her tone is a mixture of mocking and faux comfort. 

“Stay alive, Laudna.” Two discordant voices lace over one another creating a nightmare tapestry in her mind. On one side is a mosaic of glass. Delilah shines in deep liquid color from the ever present sun lighting Whitestone from the outside in. Her deep violent violet eyes stare down with a smile so perfect it off sets the almost too simple, too crude styling of the glass around her. 

Where Sylas usually stands stoic and proud besides his wife Emoth lays over liquid glass. She’s made of tens of thousands of stitches. Each one placed meticulously and methodically. Where Delilah shines in the attention of the sun Emoth hides in the shadows of each and every single row of stitched thread. She stands with Delilah sneering in twin fashion. Her suit is as elegant as Delilah’s dress, Gods they make a terrifyingly handsome couple. 

In reality, the only thing they have in common is the blood that stains them. Laudna’s blood sprays across the smoothness of glass caught only in the seams where The Chancellor’s grip cracks her own facade. It soaks into the fabric of Emoth slowly taking over deep crevices until they’re smooth against the surface of threads. 

“I hope you have a high pain tolerance.” In the stretching silence Emoth makes a trembling laugh akin to a hyena cornering it’s helpless, lame prey. All Laudna can do is blink her eyes. Listen to the rapid pounding of her heart and try so desperately to get her breathing to even out. 

She’s getting too light headed. Mind racing with too many horrible thoughts wholly unable to imagine anything but the whirring of a drill, the subsequent pain that follows. How many uses of that vial does Delilah- Emoth already have? How long do they last? 

It must not be very long. Emoth made a very bold play slipping into Heda’s territory so quickly. Had she been following them the entire time? Had she been there the night of the party, just waiting for her moment? Does that mean Imogen accidentally saved her that night? 

Imogen. Oh fuck Imogen. She’s going to go be left alone. She’s going to think Laudna- 

That she- 

She can’t breathe. Her lungs fully refuse to take in air picturing the hurt lancing through broken crystalline eyes. She can see every single deep amethyst crack inside of pastel lavender replacing thin lines of gold Laudna had set without either of them noticing. 

Imogen’s going to hate her. Her entire life is going up in flames she’s never wanted. And just like every other time that spark turned embers turned full uncontrollable wild fire it isn’t even her fault. If it was, if she had spilled the proverbial gasoline and threw the proverbial match, maybe it wouldn’t hurt this badly. 

——

She was right about whatever concoction of chemical and marrow Emoth had been injecting into her arm not lasting long. About every four or so hours she pulls a full syringe of mixed blood and added chemicals, taps the side to rid of any hidden air bubbles. Then she breathes like she’s psyching herself up. She slips a longer, thicker, needle straight into he same spot on the inside of her elbow. The half full, palm sized, vial barely lasted an entire day according to Emoth’s quiet panicked ramblings.

The next few moments are enjoyable, for Laudna. She watches ruefully each and every sigh of pain Emoth emits like a sputtering engine. She watches with rapt attention counting winkles as they etch into tightened features and stuttered gasps. 

It feels like revenge. It feels so good to watch someone hurting her get hurt for fucking once. And it’s apparently the essence of whatever the hell it is Delilah changed about her. Apparently it makes this bullshit “cure” more potent? It’s a whole bunch of science she doesn’t understand, Emoth talking her fucking ear off about ‘I didn’t know people could go through metamorphosis’ or ‘the cellular equivalent of an organ transplant.’  

It’s making her feel pressed against a ride spinning so fast she can barely lift her arms form the force of it. Her body is still cut off from the rest of her, Emoth made sure of that methodically injecting a clear something into her just when the feeling of her fingertips returns. At least whatever the Hells she’s using won’t be permanent, she very much almost prays anyway.

“Oh, would you look at that.” D-Emoth holds an empty vial, sides still coated in her ‘Cure.’ Not really a cure seeing as it only works for a set amount of time. It’s more like a bandaid to a gunshot wound than it is a cure. But, it’s not like she can argue with the witch of The Mountain. “I’m out already.” Emoth smiles a horrible Cheshire grin. She’s too happy. Too elated. 

Laudna knows exactly why. She panics the second her current tormenter slips open a sleek black box. Her mind begs her to do something. Scream, or move, or do anything but stay still. Stay quiet. At the same time, deep down, she feels herself slipping into that sort of routine. It is what kept her alive of so long back up in space.

That subservient urge tells her to just take it. If she just takes it then it will be over and Delilah will… will what? Emoth isn’t Delilah. Emoth isn’t experimenting. She’s a corned, injured predator selfishly using her captive’s body to keep herself alive. 

Emoth chuckles pulling her drill free from it’s compartment, velvet cushioning whispering her demise as it slides against cool metal. It’s drill bit sheens in the falling sun outside. It sinks low barely peeking above the forests canopy almost afraid to stay and watch what’s going to happen. 

Pulling the trigger the drill whirrs to life cackling at Laudna. Each banshee scream pierces the air and all she can see is a dizzying overlap of metal. Metal walls of a spacesh- bus-ship-bus! Emoth laughs with the harmony of Delilah deep in the background of her voice. Delilah, no Emoth stalks towards her clearly enjoying the fear forcing tears out of her eyes. 

Gods. She can’t even force the smallest of sounds out of her throat. She’s paralyzed doing everything she can to keep Del- fuck. Emoth, Emoth. The old woman, far too old to be this spry, actually fucking skips sliding herself behind where Laudna dangles. 

The river of time feels like it slows. Her head races. She hates this moment of dilation. Where she knows what’s coming, how badly it’s going to hurt. There is nothing she can do to stop it. She can only brace for- 

Her world of metal walls and dying sun goes white. Twisted spinning metal gauges into the upper part of her thigh. It tears at muscle, catches it until it rips her to shreds like tearing apart stringy pork. Hot. Hot blood burbles around the metal pushing it’s way towards her femur. 

Boiling tears flow from rivulets to waterfalls down her cheeks. They gather and drip from her chin puddling in the smallest leaf on a vine of ivy. Only when twisting metal scrapes against bone, digs in and in and in until it finally break through does the smallest whimper of a hollowed death wail scream claw up and out of her chest. 

She should’ve passed out right there. She wanted to. She wished beyond anything she’s ever wished before to just shut off. To switch off like she knows the human body is capable of doing. 

She’s been trained to stay awake. She does have a high pain tolerance. An even higher tolerance for trauma. Fuck. Fuck she wishes Delilah would stop. She’s been doing this for long. Drilling into her. Stabbing her. Filling her veins with- 

The drill begins it’s retreat. Stops it’s incessant screaming. There’s silence. Shuffling. Then a thick horrible needle slithers down the bleeding hole left in her body. Another spike of high tension blinding pain forces bile all the way out of her mouth. It burns, dribbles down her chin slapping wetly to the plants overtaking the lab- shit. The buses flooring. 

“Vile. Truly Laudna.” Del- Emoth grumbles retracting her needle. She saunters around her dangling, shaking body knocking into her on purpose. “Ugh. You’re a mess.” The older woman rolls her eyes setting about her makeshift science lab. Laudna only quietly sobs in response, idly coming to stop from her forced swinging. 

——

Two more days pass. Two more rounds of drills and needles pass. Or… is it three? She and time have only become greater enemies in the passing… days? It’s harder still to keep track when she’s not sure how long she stays unconscious for. It could be five seconds, or five hours. A full day? It’s so hard to know. 

Especially when Emoth won’t stop screaming. Yelling. Something about too complicated for this lack of technology. Something about it’s all Laudna’s fault, despite her utter lack of agency. Or does she mean destroying her hole in the ground of a home? Her words are spittle and spite spraying like a surfacing whale across Laudna’s face. She won’t stop hitting out of frustration either. A slap to the face when Laudna has to blink to wet her eyes. And when Emoth thinks she’s somehow arguing with nothing more than a look she grabs Laudna by her bile-crusted chin and screams. Just like now.

“What happened to you? What the hell is inside you?!” Emoth’s shrill voice, dampened by the nature around them, echoes in her ruined ear canals. She blinks helplessly at her tormentor, her bodily agency still locked by the all too full vial of paralytic in Emoth’s briefcase of horrors. 

It’s not like she knows either. Whatever Delilah did to her. This is the first sort of information she’s actually gotten on the maybe Chancellor’s fun. The, once(?), chancellor had done so much to her by the time her eighteenth birthday had rolled around. So many things had been put into her veins, burned her, froze her, hurt her, from the inside. Forced her blood to toxic levels of, well she’s not sure. Just that it nearly killed her and ‘almost ruined everything she’d been working for.’ 

And… Gods it’s fucking stupid. It’s terrible and horrible and far too classic stockholm syndrome but. Deep down, experiencing this horror, she misses her. She really hates that she misses her, maybe fire isn’t too far off after all. 

At least Delilah understood the bare minimum of keeping a prisoner. At least she gave breaks, let Laudna’s red and white cell count regain safe levels before continuing her torturous games. At least she held Laudna on the days she couldn’t stop shaking. On the days when all she could was cry, and wheeze, and beg Delilah to just take her to the death bay and let her join her parents. 

Emoth is far more dangerous than Delilah. Emoth isn’t afraid to bring her to the brink of death, a mistake Delilah had never made more than once. She’s not afraid to let her bleed, slowly from the holes she puts in her body, until she can’t keep her head up anymore. She’s keeping Laudna alive solely and only until she get’s what she wants. This deal, is far less in Laudna’s favor. Her cards have been stacked, their tower ready to crumble whenever Emoth chooses to blow them over. 

“You’re a Gods damned puzzle, Laudna. You don’t even know what’s wrong with you, do you?” It’s a horrible poisonous question. It’s a noxious choking smoke of words forced into Laudna’s lungs, it’s antidote an answer Emoth won’t get out of her because- She blinks twice. No. 

Emoth’s teeth are fully bared in a predatory smile. “Of course not. Predictably stupid. Stupid stupid girl. Why would you be any help?” The old woman slumps into the seats along the wall to Laudna’s left. She stares at a pad of paper she had slowly been working a pencil to nothing on. Numbers and letters and abbreviations were scratched onto the yellow lined pages. Some were crossed out. Some where circled, others ripped off and torn to bits decorating the ivy crawling inside the bus.

“Gods. At this point I’m going to need you forever.” Where Emoth rolls her eyes Laudna’s open wide, though. Not in shock. More like a devastating realization.

Forever? As in, forever forever? If she could laugh she would. Forever. Of course. Of course she’d escape one hell, experience a slice of a life she’s dreamed of only to end up right back where she started. Metal walls, an older woman torturing her for their personal gain, and, the worst similarity of them all, she just disappeared. 

No one knows what happened. No one knows where she is. She’s alone, bleeding, and now she’s a traitor to the most powerful woman in the world. 

And the worst worst part? She finally figured out the perfect nickname. 

——

This is what loosing sanity must feel like. Her world has come down to frames. From one moment to the next everything changes. Nothing makes sense. She sees her mother smiling at her, speaking incomprehensibly to her. She’s telling her to keep track of her senses, that a good doctor never get’s nervous. They always keep their head level, lives are on line after all. 

She wants to tell her she can’t, that her world is moving in moments. Like flipping through a photo book. At first Emoth is beside her writing away in her notepad. She’s humming mumbling words scratching away with her ever dwindling pencil. 

In the blink of an eye Delilah is across the length of the bus pacing back and forth. She moves oddly, utterly lacking the grace she usually sweeps across the ship with. Her back is to Laudna and she… trips on ivy. Sunlight bounces off the many jewels adorning her ancient formal dress.

When she spins back around to face Laudna it’s the dead of night. Emoth is asleep a few rows a head of her, her hair the only thing visible from where she’s stolen a familiar bowing cot in a familiar cell on Whitestone. 

She wants to tell her mother- 

Where did she go? Her eyes drag the interior of… Of whi- the bus. The metal walls of Whitestone overlap at the edges of her vision. She can see them both. Her prisons tormenting her unendingly. She can’t escape them even if she closes her eyes. They’re there. Emoth and Delilah are there standing with scalpels and needles and drills. 

When she pries her eyes back open the sun is shining low in the sky just past golden hour. It’s rays light the world in a pastel color giving way to the dark blues of encroaching night. Catha hangs just over a very muted Ruidus a ghostly white ready to slip on it’s silvery dress gifted by the golds of the retreating sun. Stars appear in the deepest midnight blues twinkling like ancient Christmas lights and, she swears she can hear them. Like tapping on wind chimes she swears the stars are singing to her. 

She can feel her eyes slipping shut. She fights to keep them open. Keep herself in the flow of time long enough to. To. She has to… 

Stay alive. 

She has to stay alive. She has to keep her eyes open because a blur of purple just broke through the broken side door to the bus. She watches a streak of lavender race for the startled awake Emoth. 

“How! We- We had a deal! I left your people!” Emoth screams. Terror coats her face as she scrambles on the seats desperately getting trying to get away from her attacker. 

“You stole my person.” Imogen speaks with the power of The Commander. The scene looks like a flip book. Lavender chases navy blue. She pins Emoth to the floor in the center aisle and in one. Two. Four… Ten. Fifteen. Twenty five quick stabs, and screams, and ribbons of flying blood, what should’ve been amethyst eyes lift up. They’re coated in a red so deep they border on black glowing, flickering like flames lighting the war paint of the demonic Commander in crimson, hide the splattering red across her face.

They lock onto Laudna’s dazed, unfocused gaze instantly softening. The woman of stars tries to fight her eyes sliding shut. She doesn’t want this to end, even if it’s just in her head. Even if she know’s it isn’t real seeing Imogen makes her feel safe.

“StarLight.” Hands sporting the warmth of lava lay gently as a butterflies wing on her face. They splay across her jaw, thumbs rubbing the apples of her cheeks. She manages to rip her eyelids back up to cracked amethyst, the lines of gold Laudna had left still there in the gentle gaze of Imogen. 

A literal flood of chemicals leaks from her brain. In seconds she feels blood roaring in her ears. She feels the impending sense of death come to an end and, her head drops. Fully relenting into the woman holding her. 

“Did you… Holy fuck. Holy shit. Heda get the fuck out here.” It’s a familiar voice. Feminine and airy and, it might click who it is later. Right now she focuses on not giving in to the soothing voice of unconsciousness. 

“StarLight.” Imogen speaks carefully. She reaches up with Saber and suddenly Laudna feels her body falling, caught instantly by Imogen and scooped up bridal style. 

If this is a dream then it’s a very cruel dream. The arms around her feel so real. The night air feels so cool, so heavenly against her disgusting sweaty skin. Holy shit. The world is so loud. There’s an actual roaring shaking the earth. It’s so loud animals of all sizes and places in the hierarchy agree to a truce. They all race away from…

No. 

No fucking way. 

When Imogen stops moving she sinks to the ground holding Laudna in her lap. She turns her to face standing bodies, three short three tall. Their backs are to her just staring completely dead at the sky. 

A burning ball of fire races towards Exandria. Miles wide and ripping apart on it’s descent, chunks of metal tear away and burn to nothing in the stratosphere. In the very center, sideways and nearly unrecognizable is a ship the size of smaller countries.  

Darkness is seeping into the edges of her vision, she won’t last much longer. It takes all of her remaining cognizant thought to piece together what the hell is happening.

Whitestone has fallen.

Chapter Text

There’s barely time to register where she is. A small room made of stacked and stripped logs of wood. Two windows to her right and left stream in bright blinding streams of light. 

She swathed in plush heavy blankets, held by a soft feathered something under her. For a moment she blinks. Were the past few… the past multiple… Was her time with Emoth nothing more than a horrible nightmare? 

When she tries to sit up her entire body sings in pain. Her thighs seize and she can only curse, fall back to the bed she’d been laid on. Not a dream then. She was actually taken and- 

“Oh shit.” A deep earthen voice speaks from across the small wooden room. She whips to look, well. She startles instantly regretting the sharp movement, her head pounding and heart racing. Ashton stands like a giant in the smaller doorway, metal knob engulfed by his hand. 

He looks at Laudna like she’s come back from the dead. Like they can’t believe she’s staring at them, moving in general. How long… How hurt was- is she? How fucked did she have to be to be getting a reaction like that?

“Go get-” They turn over their shoulder to someone Laudna can’t see. 

“I’m already going!” She knows that voice, the same light airy feminine one that spoke to Heda before she passed out. Fearne, now that she can think and process on more her normal level. 

If Fearne and Ashton are here then… Does that mean Imogen..?

“A-sh!” Again like an idiot she tries to prop herself up on her arm collapsing like a buckled bridge. Breathing through a wave of horrible lightning frying her nerves system she makes eye contact with a rushing Ashton.

“Stay the fuck down. You shouldn’t move too much.” He’s across the dirt floor and kneeling down at her bedside. Their twin toned eyes rake over her face, trail down to her left leg then spring back to her dark umber gaze. They look so worried, relived and so so worried. 

It makes Laudna’s stomach lurch. She knows this look. Her mother wore it when someone came to her too injured for her to fix one hundred percent. It’s a look of permanent damage and no good words to ease the blow.

“What…” She trails getting used to speaking. Have vocal cords always felt this weird? Or is it just from her lack of use of them over- however long she as gone for? “How long?” She switches her questions. She already knows what happened, doesn’t want the big bad news just yet either. The last thing she needs is to hear it from someone she loves so dearly. 

“You’ve been out for ah uh.” They count on their fingers looking up at the ceiling like the answer is written there. She almost looks just to break the horribly tight tension around them, maybe make a joke about it but, they keep talking. “Shit I think ten days. And that’s not counting the four it took to find you in the first place. You should’ve seen your girlfriend. She was a fucking monster.” They look lost after mentioning her missing time. Like they hadn’t registered it until they said it out loud, even as they kept talking. She knows they added on the last bit to try and ease the bomb they so carefully dropped into her lap. It’s beyond appreciated even if it doesn’t really dull the after shock.

“Four…? I’ve been out for ten…” She echos their emptiness. “What about.. Is everyone okay?” Her mind flashes through as many faces as she can remember. All of the people she was supposed to be protecting, the ones looking at her for guidance. Had the conclaves jumped at the chance to kill the Sky-People’s headless body? Had they been attacked? Did Imogen’s leave create a rift they can’t close?

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ashton laughs caught off guard by her question, though he looks more relived than anything else. “Yeah, everyone’s fine. Your girlfriend’s been taking care of everything.” They smile at her. Her chest goes tight. So even with her absence she manages to burden the ones she cares about. 

“Hey. Don’t fucking do that.” Ashton lightly flicks her in the forehead. 

“Wh-! Do what?” She lifts her hand to hit them back. It listens to her without a lick of static in her finger tips. Oh it feels so nice to feel her body. To know she can do as she pleases even if she’s a little sluggish. Just to test it she curls her fists and wiggles her toes, her eyes watering when she finds herself responding in kind to her commands. When she’s feeling better she’ll get Ashton back, right now she’s just happy to let her heavy hand flop back down onto the bed.

“You know what. Don’t you fucking dare beat yourself up, not without Letters here to lecture you.” They joke and the bubble around them pops. Laudna snorts, Ashton breaks out in a short laugh. “It’s not your fault.” Their softness completely disarms Laudna. She sees the person she’d been friends with all those years ago. Before life spilt them apart and beat them down over and over again. 

“I, of course.” She says thinking of her next few questions carefully. “Do. Do you know what’s going on with the Conclaves?” Her natural inflected speech slips through in the most casual, automatic way. She can’t help but smile a bit, just enough on one side letting out a held breath. 

“I don’t know a single gods damned thing. All I know is Heda, and that old dickass Chetney, had all the political stuff handled. I haven’t even seen her since we got you back here.” They look towards the still open door. Beyond it is a dimly lit hall Laudna can’t see the entirety of from her spot on the bed. 

Speaking of. “Where is ‘here’?” She asks over the hum of Imogen in her head. Just the mention of her has too many thoughts zipping around her pounding brain like a break in an ancient game of pool. 

“Med ward.” Ashton answers still watching down the hall. It makes Laudna extremely anxious not being able to see anything of note. Just a partial log wall, part of un unmarked wood door, and just the faintest flicker of firelights. 

“Has she…” She trails off. Does she really want to know if Imogen’s been here? Or is it better to assume… No. It’s never better for her to assume. She goes zero to a hundred far too fast for her to just assume anything safely. 

But. If Ashton says they haven’t seen her, then they haven’t crossed paths? Or maybe Ashton. No, that’s even dumber of her to think. Ashton cares way too much for his heart sometimes. There isn’t a single way in the whole of the world he let her be by herself for longer than he could help. 

And Chetney is too paranoid. Letters is a healing presence by nature. They’d want to be here with her, with Ashton. So… If they haven’t seen Imogen then. Then does that mean- because she missed their rendezvous? Had the streak of lavender been her wishful thinking? Surely not, right? If the rest of it was real then…

“I haven’t seen her. But. Your doctor, or healer or what the fuck ever they’re called down here, won’t let visitors in after it get’s dark.” They ruefully smile. “I tried to argue. That little lady is a scary scary person. I see why Heda chose her to fucking guard your room.” He looks to her then back down the hall. 

Laudna tenses out of instinct. “Something there Ash, or are you trying to freak me out?” She asks instead of spiraling over the state of her first ever relationship. Situationship? They never had time to actually discuss it. 

Ashtons bi-colored eyes turn to her. “Is it working?” They snicker easily moving away from Laudna’s very slow slap towards their shoulder. 

“I see you took ‘lovable asshole’ to heart then.” She jokes resting her much too heavy hand on their shoulder. They let her even though she can see the wince in their face, her touch far too light for their broken body. 

“Yeah, and if I’m correct then…” He stands from his knelt position. A heavy door opens far down the hall echoing in the cabin like med ward. “I’m getting way fucking better at this timing shit Heda told Fearne to force me to learn.” It’s meant for himself, mostly. His smug little grin pointedly for Laudna to see. She rolls her eyes at their rhyming. 

There’s footsteps coming towards them. She counts only one, light set. Too loud to be Heda, too loud to be Imogen. Maybe Dorian? He’s the only one she doesn’t know the sound of. Orym and Chetney are far too sneaky. Letters has an unfortunate lack to his stealth, not his fault. And Fearne. Well Fearne does her own thing. She doesn’t really care if people hear her or not. 

She looks to Ashton who only stares out of the door with his arms crossed over his chest. Always the protective soul, Ashton Greymore. He’s not freaking out so, it has to be that set of people and no one new. Right? 

“You can leave now.” 

Laudna’s eyes open wide. Standing in the open door to her provided room is an out of breath beauty dripping in purples, armored leathers, and flowing chiffon. The leader of Exandria is dressed in a white shoulder-less shear collared shirt. Sleeves run down her arms covering from just above her elbow down to the backs of her hands and looped around her middle fingers. 

A black clearly armored corset covers her middle, four golden buckles glinting in the light of the room. It wraps over a chiffon cape pressing it to her body under it’s leather material, the train flowing just above the ground and embroidered with gold celestial designs Laudna would’ve killed for. 

Where she usually wears shorts she’s dressed in dark blue jeans. Her cowboy boots have been replaced with long, thigh high black boots. Saber sits attached to her left thigh where it always is, her rapier on her right hip hanging off of a black leather belt, it’s buckle also gold. 

She is the most beautiful person to ever grace Exandria. She is so gorgeous just standing there leaning subtly against the door frame. Sweat lightly coats her forehead, drips down her neck. She must be boiling in Jrusar’s heat… Did she run here? To be so out of breath, to carelessly step so loudly she must’ve been rushing.

“Hello to you too. Long time no fucking see.” Ashton boredly waves one of their hands before turning to Laudna. “I’ll be back. Don’t get in your fucking head, okay?” They say it just to her glancing over their shoulder. Then they turn on their heal walking up to Imogen. They are taller than her, physically, but the tension sparking between them like cats sizing each other up is far heavier from the Commander of Exandria. 

Ashton laments taking less than a moment to see Laudna’s nervous eyes bouncing between them. He waves one last time then exists her line of sight, footsteps hitting packed dirt until the same heavy door Imogen used shuts once again. And then.

Then it’s just them. Imogen fully loosing the slight guard of Heda. She’s a fidgeting, trembling mess taking a hesitant step forward. She opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it again before deciding against it. 

Laudna stares at her fully unable to get herself to do anything else. She wants to get up and dive into those strong arms. She wants them to wrap around her and hold her and feel every single whisper of comfort Imogen is holding behind her too proud, or too wounded, teeth. 

When she opens her own mouth to speak tears well in their stead. They fill her eyes so quickly, so suddenly her entire world blurs behind their salty field. 

“Laudna.” Imogen speaks her name more fragile than fine china. Her footsteps approach and the door softly clicks shut behind her. Laudna’s arms are already in the air instantly latching onto to Imogen. She fists her star dappled chiffon cape burying deep into lavender waves sporting their usual decorative braids.

“Thank you.” Laudna chokes glad to be held by her maybe girlfriend. “Thank you for coming.” She sobs fully and freely trembling so hard she’s worried her bones will shake apart at their joints. 

“I’d remake the entire world for you, Starlight.” Imogen speaks in a voice Laudna has never heard from her. A truly relived and frightened timber hidden deep inside the human parts of her so easily hidden away. 

It only makes her cry harder. No one has ever cared about her this much. No one has ever looked at her and thought she was someone worth anything but their own selfish desires. 

She doesn’t know what to do with the overwhelming feeling in her chest. She doesn’t have a name for it except… Is it. Safety? This foreign lessening of fight or flight. The feeling of endorphins seeping through her where cortisol usually takes center stage.

Of all the people she could’ve literally fallen for how in the Hells did she end up falling right into Imogen’s lap? Did one of the Gods finally take pity on her for the torture they had ignored? Did she manage to fall into whatever plan they had for Imogen by total accident? Whatever the case she’s just glad that she’d fallen in first place. 

Fallen…

She jumps away from Imogen startling them both. The Commander’s hands hover on her shaking elbows, eyes darting all around checking her over. She digs her fingers into iron forearms rushing through her frantic thought.

“Wh- Whitestone. It- it fell?” She’s still crying. Tears still stream down her face and her breaths still strangle her. She has to know. Has to have what she saw confirmed, even though deep down she knows the truth. 

“Yes.” Heda slips through hardening pastels to muted oil paints. “It crashed in the Ruidian’s territory. It is the only reason I have not called for their immediate assassination. They’re using you as a piece on the chessboard. If I don’t kill you, why should they kill her?” Heda takes over Imogen’s gentleness. 

Laudna’s world stops spinning. 

Her. 

Why kill. Her. 

A brand new wave of grief and panic take hold of her. She tries to ask for Imogen, can’t even breathe past hyperventilating. Her. Her. Her. Her. Delilah. She’s alive and she’s on Exandria. She’s here. Laudna’s in her reach and there’s no where for her to hide. They’re confined to the same planet forever playing a game of cat and mouse. 

“Starlight. You have to breathe. Look at me.” The odd mix of Commander and Imogen speaks in a near discordant overlay. Their hands find Laudna’s face. They take deep exaggerated breaths slowly working Laudna through each one. 

She tries. Tries so hard to follow Imogen’s lead. She can’t. Not when she can hear cackling so viscerally close it sounds like Delilah’s in the room. She can’t get herself to do a anything but come to terms with crushing reality. 

“She’s not getting anywhere near here. Your friends told me enough. I will sooner burn the Ruidian lands than let a single one of them make it to ours.” The Commander’s words are final. In the most literal sense her words are final. Her word is law and the world obeys. 

Delilah has never listened to anyone but herself. Delilah obeys no one but Delilah Briarwood, her word is law and the world obeys. 

“Why?” Laudna chokes. “Why? Why now? Why at all? What have I- Why does- Gods. Why does she- why me?” She’s getting light headed. Loosing herself behind her panic. 

“Laudna. Look at me.” Imogen commands. Watery umber eyes glance to her. This staring contest the most weight they’ve had to date. “You’re safe. You’re with me. No one is going to get to you. We got the majority amongst the Conclaves. The Rudian’s, that bitch of a chancellor, are frozen in place. When I say everyone is ready to kill, I mean everyone. The Conclaves hate them more than they fear you.” She holds Laudna’s jaw keeping up her extra animated breathing, Laudna subconsciously following. Way more stuttered and still through gut wrenching sobs but, she follows nonetheless. 

“Your second, Chetney, is a very good politician. He had everyone’s vote before he even finished explaining who is on that ship. You, and your people, are safe with me Starlight.” She leans forward and kisses Laudna’s forehead. Between her eyes. The tip of her nose, the apples of her cheeks, and the center of each tear track. 

“Safe?” Laudna shudders. Chases Imogen’s retreating face with a hand and pulling her back in so their foreheads rest together. 

“Safe.” Imogen echos softly. Safe. Delilah is here. She’s with Imogen’s mortal enemy, Otohan. Scheming, it seems. Who knows what the fuck about. Maybe Delilah is doing what she did to the original matriarchs of Whitestone. 

Slide into the Ruidian’s circle. Convince them she’s useful, helpful, has their best intentions at heart. Then, when it suits her most, takes their power. If she does, she still has to answer to Heda. The woman fully unphased in killing Conclave leader heads. 

Unless- 

“No one dares hurt my people. You’re-”

“Your person.” Laudna finishes, still struggling to fully take in air but is not going to pass out. She’s Imogen’s… and Heda’s person. Not just an orphaned girl stolen away by the boogie man. People care for her, searched for her when another monster tried to steal her. 

Delilah is here but Imogen’s a professional hunter.

“Yes. You are. I’ve spent every single night in this room with you. I’ve spent every waking moment thinking about you. Worrying about you.” The world’s leader is no more than the girl Laudna’s coaxed from her fox’s den. Her words are low, earnest in a way that has Laudna’s very cur-fuddled mind easing to an slower less chaotic pace. 

“I missed our meeting time.” She says so very lamely. Still worried about something so trivial in the face of everything else. Like Ashton said, it wasn’t her fault. Still. She had not gotten over the hurt she imagined Imogen going through for four days. Again. So stupid in the pie chart of priorities, what’s a sliver to the whole of everything? 

“If I cared would I be here?” Imogen chuckles. Small and quiet but Laudna can feel the smile in the inch between them. It’s enough to get her stuttered emotions to smooth out, a long breath breezing against the face in front of her. 

“Probably not, no.” She giggles a watery sound back letting the woman of lavenders pull away enough to look at her. She’s all pastels and golden lines. Sanded edges and padded touch. 

Laudna looks as Imogen wets her lips. Glances back up then leans in meeting Imogen as far up as she can get herself without wincing. The press of those placid warm lips kiss away the rest of her torment. Push each new thing into a box to be dragged away by the greedy ichor monster in her head. 

“Thank you…” She almost says it. Hesitates insecure of herself. She can here Ashton chiding her, get out of your head. He’d said. Get out of her head. Just say it. When will ever be a better chance? “Thank you, LightningStrike.” 

Imogen flies away from her so fast she’s a literal blur. Then she’s so still Laudna could’ve confused her for a hyper-realistic wax figure. If it weren’t for her rapid breathing. Or darting irises. If it weren’t for the emotions so plain on her face she might thought she’d frozen Imogen solid. 

She grips the blankets on her chest. Stares in the tense silence between them actually seeing tension roiling. Is she supposed to take it back? Haha just kidding, please say something? Is she, did she not- was this too fast? 

“Lightning. Strike?” The words are held and stretched. Every slanting vowel, each hard constant held and pressed and broken apart in the voice of a confused girl. 

“Is that alright?” Laudna shifts uncomfortably, grimaces at pain flaring up her body. 

“LightningStrike?” Imogen asks again dazed. This is what Luanda must have looked like when Fearne and Yu told her about the significance of nicknames. Gods, this puppy confusion looks so handsome on the stoic Commander. 

“Yeah, uh. Imogen, you’re exactly like Lightning. You’re electric, and powerful and bright. You’re beautiful in a dangerous way, like. If someone faces your ire you act fast and quick and you never have to do something more than once.” She fiddles with Imogen’s scarred fingers, the lightning pattern hitting her far after she had this name picked out. When the world’s leader says nothing she keeps going. 

“Heda.” She lifts her gaze the same time oil paints and amethyst flies to her, the hardened leader of the world called to the forefront. “A force to be reckoned with. You move with such a force the world bends to your will. I saw how it responded to your call the first day we left for the mountain. I watched you move with the grace of a predator. I watched you take, and give, and well for lack of better term, strike whenever you had to. You’re both Imogen, and Heda, and I love you as a whole.” She surprised herself. She didn’t know that last little part was on her tongue until she spoke it out loud. 

She isn’t going to take it back either. Not when her future has been shifted so violently yet again. Who knows how much time they have together? She may as well let Imogen know how she feels before it’s too late. 

“You love me?” Imogen is beyond the word stunned. 

Laudna nods. “I think so. Is, is that okay?” She silenced with a kiss to end all kisses. Imogen’s hands are on the back of her head and under the small of her back pulling her off the mattress and into her muscled body. 

She’s nodding so enthusiastically into their lips pressing together Laudna can’t help but smile too. She smiles lacing her hands into lavender waves at her temples. 

She gasps at Imogen straddling her. Laying down on top of her keeping away from her left leg as much as possible. Even if Imogen tore it off right here and now she wouldn’t stop kissing her. She’s dragging the woman above her back down into her embrace and begging her for more. 

“I. I love you too, I think.” Imogen pulls away a shade of red Laudna has only seen flashing over her eyes. 

“Oh, good. That would've been really embarrassing otherwise.” Laudna chuckles. Almost as embarrassing as calling the Commander of the world Sushi. She can never tell her. Not after this, she’d die. Truly. 

“Can I kiss you now?” Imogen asks after a beat of silence. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you never stopped.” Laudna sighs into the Commander. She could kiss Imogen until the universe imploded on itself. She could ignore all the everything going on in her life as long as they stay like this. Frozen in this human romantic moment of them where Conclaves, torturers, and fallen ships mean nothing. 

——

She bedridden for far longer than she would have liked. For a month and half she lays and rots banging her head against the wall trying not to go stir crazy. If it weren't for her friends, and Heda’s personal three constantly coming in to chat then she would’ve lost her mind. 

They keep her updated to the best of their abilities. Heda, and Imogen, didn’t tell anyone else she went to Laudna’s room at night. Every. Night. She didn’t tell them their Commander had already told her the Conclaves are backing off far more afraid of the combined usurped power of Rudian and Chancellor. 

She didn’t feel the need to tell Ashton, Letters, and Chetney more about their relationship beyond ‘closer than enemies.’ Ashton of course kept teasing her and she of course tells them to lovingly shove it.

It was not for a month and half before she was able to walk back to the Sky-people’s provided shelters. She was throughly surprised to find out the majority of of her fallen people have either joined in Heda’s army or took up hobbies and jobs. 

Chetney of course was already securing his own woodworking shop. He could barely contain himself saying if Laudna ever left him “in charge” again he’d both knock her upside the head and thank her for giving him leverage over the Grounders. 

Letters spent his time with Deanna learning the art of healing. He also took up a part time bakery job just to keep themselves busy. They constantly brought treats varying in levels of edible. Laudna looked forward to each and every single one not ever having a single thing he’d manage to create. 

And Ashton. Well Ashton finally got their hands on a giant Warhammer. He took to learning to fight and how to cook. A genuine surprise. He’s an amazing chef and is now the designated caterer for the Sky-people. 

Laudna watched them all beyond envious of their free range. A short lived feeling when she was constantly surrounded by people gushing about the things they had learned. Her people and friends constantly entered and exited the shelter she had been confined to absolutely elated she was okay, and beyond excited to tell her all about the past few weeks. 

It wasn’t until that month and a half passed she was able to get herself up and moving. She got herself all the way to Heda’s tower. Found herself aided by Dorian all the way to Estheross’ personal chambers. 

When she knocked, assuring Dorian she had the rest handled, Estheross opened his chamber door bewildered to see her. He’d been back from his trip to Issylra while she was out, apparently when ships fall from skies people manage to elect a leader pretty fast. 

“Laudna. I didn’t expect you?” His towering height dwarfed the woman barely keeping upright in front of him. She had to crane her neck back to meet his wary, confused eye. 

“I know. I just. I have a personal question to ask.” She danced a bit on her feet nervously. No one knew she was coming here, save for her very lovely escort Dorian. He was only here cause he caught her resting on the way, insisted he couldn’t possibly let her go any further alone. 

Really, she greatly accepted his aid. Her left thigh will cause her problems for her entire life. Emoth managed to tear her bones so fully apart they’ll never heal properly. Deanna and Letters are working on making her a custom brace, but for now she will mange. 

Estheross says nothing raising his eyebrow, his silent permission to ask. “Will you teach me how to fight?” She pales as he balks. Watches him fall into his stoic thinking face, the one he often wore on their first journey back from The Mountain. 

Silence stretches, and then “I will not be an easy teacher.” 

Launda lights up feeling like a kid during Winterscrest. “I’d never ask you to be.” 

Chapter Text

“Ow.”

“Ow!’ 

“Fucking- shit- ass- OWAH!” 

Pain radiated through her ribs. From one side to the other dull calculated pain lanced with every ragged breath she took. Sweat beads, drips, soaks the tight, black, cropped tank she’d been given by the man himself. The one standing over her with a very amused smirk to his lips. 

He’s dressed in a sleeveless, tight black training shirt tucked into looser knee length shorts. Gods. His muscle and height make him look like an actual walking mountain. He’s as intimidating as the sun is hot beating down on them. 

Estheross insisted they go to his private training pit. It’s a small area near Heda’s tower, but in the woods enough only those privy to it’s existence would know where to go. In the center of a cleared out area, maybe twenty feet around, is a circular area of packed dirt. The edges are trimmed and outlined in white paint, the out of bounds that if she crosses she ends up knocked onto her back. 

“Stop crossing the line and I won’t have to punish you accordingly. Surely you miss air in your lungs?” Her trainer boisterously chides all too happy to keep forcing out all the air she’s barely managing to keep in in the first place. “When you said there was lack of any need for combat up in space you were not lying.” Estheross chuckles holding his hand out for Laudna to take. She does, grumbling as he pulls her with ease to her feet. Again. For the hundredth time in what feels like five minutes. 

Laudna pants fully keeping off her left side. She feels like a lame cow, or horse. Though generally lame horses get shot so… in this instance she’d rather be a…. Cow…. 

“I know you said no holding back…” She tries to even out her breathing, really she does. It’s just too hard, too difficult past all the damn bruises Esheross has pummeled into her. 

When he said no holding back he was not fucking kidding. ‘If you do not want to get hit, learn to move faster.’ He’s said about a thousand times laughing like it was the first each and every time. Probably to mask just how fucking terrifying he can be. It’s glaringly obvious he’s not using his full strength to hit her, if he was she would surely be right back in the med ward with Deanna yelling at her for doing too much. 

Who’s scarier? Deanna or Estheross? Both are people Laudna very much looks up to. Both of them can and will put her on her ass if and when they deem it deserved. Both are so gentle and kind it borders on placid horror. All shadows over their glaring eyes and canines bared in terrifying glee. Perhaps she’ll start a toll for each time they freak her the fuck out. Like she does with her and Imogen’s staring contests. Just to keep herself occupied in harder moments. 

Her teacher stands giving her time to recover. Watches with hawk like eyes as she winces just shifting to her less injured side. He looks to her with a very confusing mix of concern and an odd ‘are you going to stop? Or are you going to push?’ Look. She doesn’t know what the right answer is. Just that she can’t keep going at this much longer. If at all really. She’s hurting, and not just from his many, many strikes to her body. 

It’s a bone deep kind of hurt. “…I think I need to- to stop for today. I know I should keep going. I know that I could be in a situation exactly like this and I should prepare for it but-” 

“There are times to fight and times to rest, run. What makes a good warrior is knowing which decision to make.” He speaks like a wise answer-full sagely guy. He is a wise and sagely guy. She smiles a bit, not embarrassed but, maybe put out. A little disappointed in herself, maybe. 

“There is no shame in doing what’s best for your own survival, Laudna of the Sky-People.” The lumbering mountain of a man steps out of the ring and gathers the few water skins he brought. 

“Right.” Is all she says accepting a relatively lukewarm drink of water. How she’s going to make it back limping far too much to play off? She has no idea. Letter’s and Deanna are still not happy with their brace prototype. They’re not happy Laudna’s moving around as much as she is. They keep telling her to take it easy but. How can she?

She’s already so far behind the rest of her people. Not all of them are warriors, most will never see a day of real combat. At least not anymore than they already have. She wants to be their protection. She wants to be seen as not only a leader, but a ruler. 

Not in a dictator way. She wants them to be able to rely on her. Trust her in every sense of the word. When problems inevitably come she wants her people to know she will solve it. She will put them first, put herself last and do everything to keep everyone else alive. 

How is she to do that sitting around doing nothing? How is she to show her dedication rotting away? She isn’t. She’s heard whisper from a few of the kids that’d originally sided with Andy. That maybe they’d made wrong choice. It was under Laudna’s lead that The Mountain people attacked. It was in her absence they’d been tortured. She’d been the one to save them, of course but. The doubt is still there. It sits like a wire between the fallen space dwellers connecting one to another. 

She couldn’t, can’t, wait anymore. Letters and Deanna will just have to scold her, yell at her about how close they are to getting their hyper-specific brace right. Really, she’s glad they’re taking so long.The last time they’d asked her to try it it nearly took off her entire knee. Out of all of her experiences so far, that was truly and full heartedly one of the worst. She still cringes every time she thinks about it. Whatever pile of luck she’d been given she certainly used up the most of it that day.

“I was going to wait a little bit, but. Now seems good as a time as any.” Estheross turns to her pulling her from her dead eyed wallowing. Her eyes nearly bug out of her head. In his hands is a long, beautiful cane. It’s handle is a gorgeous white something carved and shaped to fit nicely in her palm. The shaft is made of twisting light and dark woods wrapped around one another. 

“Uh… I- This is…” She trails gently taking it from his hands. It’s larger than it looked in his giant-esque grasp, and much weightier. She looks to it then him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Clever girl.” He muses softly pushing it’s twin rounded end into the ground. With his hands over hers he moves her thumb to press a small recess between the white handle and wooden shaft. 

She feels them separate. Can’t find words as he lifts their conjoined hands up, up, up, until a gleaming short sword sits in her palm. The blade is thin, double edged and light. Far lighter than training swords sitting against the nearest tree to them. 

“Estheross.” Holding the blade to the sun she examines it. Does a few of the drills she’d been taught to the best of her lame ability. Metal cuts the air singing it’s danger an addictive tune. 

“I had your friend…” He knits his brows. “The little old man. I had him make the sheath, which doubles as a baton and we will be learning that soon as well.” He smiles as she takes in his words. “Oh do not worry Laudna. When you are able we will move to learning duel wielding.” He chuckles at her defeated slump. She hadn’t expected to learn more than martial combat and maybe a few basic weapon techniques. She’s already mourning the inevitable hours, nurses wounds she has to receive. 

“Y’know the little old man almost refused the handle. It is made of bone from the first victim of Saber. And not from wood. It took persuading but I managed.” Estheross boisterously talks covering her heavy silence. Acts like Laudna heard anything after ‘bone from Saber’s first victim.’ 

What in the fuck does he mean from Saber’s name sake? Are those words in that order even Common? Had he’d spoken a language she’d accidentally picked up on but didn’t fully understand? 

“Heda said you’d react like that. She’s also very curious as to why you’ve been disappearing so often. I think she’s connected the dots.” He chuckles pointing to the bruises constellating across her body, laughs a bit at Laudna’s utter dismay.

“I’ve been meaning to tell her, I just don’t want to embarrass myself. She’s, well she’s the literal Commander of Exandria. And I’m just a girl who can’t even stand properly.” She jokes in that deprecating way she always does. Re-sheaths her gifted sword, listens to a satisfying click as the separate pieces link back together seamlessly. 

She expects a quick little jab, or back handed joke. She doesn’t expect Ethross’ silent, perturbed look. The long heavy sigh he gives towards the sky, crossing his arms over his chest and throwing her a very. Not sad but, knowing eye. Like he’s seen this before and it was just as tragic. History repeats and it seems Estheross does not like watching it all over again.

“Honestly Luanda, you should let people see your weakness. Let them see your worst and use it to your advantage. When you’re in public limp harder. Lean too hard on that cane of yours and let the unintelligent, the malevolent and evil write you off as easy prey. Play dead. There is strategy in placating yourself.” He gives a look her father used to. Soft and definitely on the sad side. He’s seeing her tragedy play out before his eyes. 

She smiles a calm, rueful thing. “Lucky for me I’ve a lifetime of placating myself to nothing more than prey.” The sound that leaves her is as heavy as the darkness around her. She knows full well the strength in feigning cockroach. In the grand scheme of things, at what point does it stop being an act?  

“Good thing you’ve always been a strategist then. That means you’re decision making is already more advanced than the average person, no wonder you were the chosen leader of your people.” His words hit harder than he knows. A huge patch of warm validation blooms in her already too hot chest.

“Your combat will improve, especially now that you have my help. You should have seen the mess LittleHunter was when we first started her Heda’s training.” His jovial lightness is back, his step slow as they walk at Lunda’s much more stuttered step. 

The cane helps. Immensely so, still. After dodging and moving and throwing her entire body into punches that didn’t land… Well she’s just above hobbling and no where near walking. She’s supposed to be taking it easy. If Deanna found out about her secret rendezvous with Estheross, the reasons she’s constantly exhausted and in pain, she’d kill them both. 

“I can’t imagine Imogen as anything but as I’ve seen her.” And she does try to imagine a tiny Imogen stumbling over basic maneuvers. It’s just, how can she when she’s only seen the woman capable of taking hundreds all on her own? She moves so fluidly, so poised and practiced imagining anything else feels impossible. 

“No one starts out at their best.” Estheross gives her a side long glance, a very pleased smile on his lips. Ah, a conversational wizard as well as a skilled combatant. No wonder Imogen’s such a force on all fronts. 

——

“Launda. Of the fucking Sky-People.” The door to the Sky’s provided shelter slams open. Standing in the door way is a very short woman with deep brown skin. Her coiled brown hair is piled on top of her head, the sun behind her shining through it making her look as divinely as she is, being a follower of the Dawn Father and all. 

She’s dressed in a golden chainmail dress over a long sleeved green shirt, her pants an off beige grey color tucked into her fur-lined boots. Over her shoulders is a knitted white blanket, pastel pink undertones shining in the ethereal sun behind her. 

Her face is written in fury. Her fists so tightly clenched they shake. Laudna, trying to take a mid day nap to ease way some of the ache in her entire body, flies to sitting. She stares at the woman who’s solely put her back together, her face fully dressed in terror. 

“Are you kidding me? What was the one, the one thing I told you not to do?!” Deanna yells stomping into the otherwise empty shelter. Luanda for all her sake tries to respond. Swallows a lump in her throat feeling her mouth run dry.

“Don’t push-”

“Don’t push yourself! I told you to rest! Take it easy! Imagine my surprise when Estheross spills the beans. Your secret fighting beans.” She glares marching herself straight into Laudna’s bewildered face. She knew that giant lovable mountain of a man would crack under the doctor’s questioning. She just didn’t expect it so fast. They’d only been sparring for a few days a week, this being their third week in a row.

“I’m sorry. Genuinely.” Laudna ducks her eye. Fidgets remorsefully. “I just. Every night I’m plagued with nightmares. Every morning I wake feeling so damn helpless and after sitting on my ass for almost two months straight I- I needed to do something.” Theres a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes lift to see Deanna’s much kinder, more motherly gaze. 

“I understand, I do. But what are you going to do if you completely fuck yourself? You have to heal before you can get back into the fight.” She sits at the Sky woman’s side. Squeezes her right knee and smiles softly.

“Yeah. I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” Laudna sighs heavily. Hides her face in her hands and rests her elbows on her knees. 

“I bet you have.” Deanna stands. “And consider your time with Estheross null until I can get that brace working.” She’s glaring before Laudna even looks at her. She gives a challenging raise to her eyebrow. Dares Laudna to argue even a word. 

“How much longer?” She asks in defeat. It was only a matter of time anyway. Secretly, she’s glad to have an excuse. She’s really, really hurting. Perhaps Estheross isn’t such an easy information mill. He’s more caring than that. He definitely gave her and her stubborn ass an out without making her feel like shit for it. Damn. Well played Estheross.

“Not long. It’s really about the details at this point. Just give it a day or two. Think you can wait that long?” Deanna rests her palm on Laudna’s forehead. The woman of fallen stars nods, dazedly stares at kindness personified. “Good. But. You should go see BleedingHeart, she’s been a worried mess and we both know that woman doesn’t sleep as is.” There isn’t a real humor in her when she says it. Just a desperate caring need to help without over stepping. 

Guilt lances through Laudna’s heart. “Is that a light but hard hint to get my ass over there?” She’s already getting to her feet. Nearly falls, her left knee giving at the slightest pressure. 

“She can wait until tomorrow.” Deanna eases her back to her bed. “And I mean that. I’ll let her know you’re having a flare up. You can tell her the rest when you’re able to stand. Okay?” With the softness of a mother she pointedly keeps Laudna in place with no more than a look. 

She get’s a soft nod and even quieter okay. Watches as Deanna leaves casting her one last worried, motherly glance. Laudna smiles back and crosses an X over her heart. 

She’ll stay here, staring at the ceiling mentally going over the drills Estheross has been, literally, pounding into her. She’ll stay here and think about the woman of lavenders and the Commander of reds. 

She’ll spend her time conscious dreading sleep. It’s not like she’ll get much anyway. In almost two months she hasn’t slept more than a few hours at a time. Her body is too trained to wake at the slightest whoosh of pressurized air. 

Or in her more current case to the rickety wooden door squeaking open and one of her friends cursing. Apologizing for waking her and she will insist she wasn’t asleep anyway. Just laying and thinking. Not a total lie, not a total truth. 

Most of the time she get’s away with it. Some of the time one of her friends gives her a questioning glance. Rarely they’ll call her out and tell her she’s going to run herself into the ground. 

Like she didn’t know that already. Really, who do they think they’re talking to? She’s the queen of burnout. The composer of running on fumes, singing on empty lungs. 

Still. As she lays on her back with her eyes closed she knows she appreciates the tsking. It’s nice to know people worry about her. 

——

Should she have waited longer than she did? Yeah. Definitely. Really though, can Deanna even be mad when she was the one who said ‘when you can stand.’? Probably. Will she be? Probably. 

They, or rather Laudna can worry herself sick over it later. Right now she’s catching her breath outside Imogen’s room. Her grip shakes on her gifted cane as she physically braces against the ornate door. 

She really, really should’ve waited. Imogen’s going to yell at her. It’s far, far too late to turn back now. All those Gods damned stairs. Why? Most likely to deter assassins, and keep those away not equipped to deal with the insane layout of the towering… tower. 

One last calming breath. One last attempt at standing to her full height. She knocks thrice. Listens for steps she knows won’t hear already holding an awkward ‘caught’ half a grin. 

“Who in their right mind-” The door flies open revealing the beauty of Exandria. “StarLight… What’re you doin’ up here? Deanna said you were in too much pain.” Oh. The country accent of it all. It’s so rare to hear it this thick. This unabashedly Imogen. It completely takes Laudna down. Literally. She put’s too much pressure fidgeting, her thigh sending waves of pain down her entire leg. 

“I’m good! I’m alright.” She winces fixing her stance, Imogen’s hands on her waist pulling her into her room and shutting the door kindly. Just to prove herself she pulls away from her probably girlfriend and waits for her to direct where to sit. 

“This a visit just cause? Or, did ya have somethin’ you wanna talk about?” Imogen’s still dressed in the outfit she was wearing the day before, save for the corset and boots. Laudna, very smooth and very much processing the Imogen in front of her, gapes like an idiot. “Laudna?” Imogen says her name and it’s never sounded so close to holy, so close to gospel. 

“Uh, I uh.” Laudna trips over her words. If she forgets the Common language will Imogen keep speaking to her so freely, not a sign of cordial Heda to be seen? 

And then Imogen giggles resting her forehead on Laudna’s shoulder. She steals all of the remaining lack luster brain function from the Sky-People’s leader without a trace of remorse. 

“Let’s si’down. I can’t imagine you’re doin’ well.” The Commander of Laudna’s current will takes her by the hand. Leads them to her very plush fur-blanketed bed. Which Laudna still finds odd. Imogen runs so hot, it just seems impractical. Even if each one is something she’d killed herself. 

“So, are ya gonna just stare at me all night?” Teasingly Imogen tucks some hair behind Laudna’s ear, her fingers taking the artificial streak of white. She hums a bit musing over the lack of color. She doesn’t ask either instead choosing to wait for Laudna to find her stunned voice. 

“I mean, I could if that’s what you’d like.” Without trying her own Whitestone accent thickens. “I did come here wanting to discuss my disappearing.” She finds Imogen’s scarred fingers still twisting white around her them much more intrigued by them than the curious lavender irises staring at her. 

“That right?” Imogen takes her hand back, laces it with Laudna’s own. 

“Yes. I, well I’m sure you know already. I asked Estheross to teach me to fight. I know!” She raises her voice just enough to close Imogen’s open mouth. “I’ve heard from him and Deanna and all of my friends. I should relax, sit on my hands until I’m fully able. But. I can’t just sit there and do nothing. I need to feel useful.” She tightens her fists out of habit. 

“I wasn’t goin’ to chastise you sweetheart. I get it. Gods, if anyone is gonna understand it’s gonna be me.” The southern is like static across Laudna’s skin. Her words tingly and sweet and makes her mouth taste a little metallic. 

“I’d never ask you to stop, or to report to me like one of my soldiers. I just want you to feel safe enough with me to talk.” Imogen’s words are an echo of her teacher. Yet, they hit so much harder coming from her. They sink like an arrow through it’s target directly into Laudna’s chest. “I didn’t even ask Estheross where y’all were goin’ to. He told me when he asked for that.” She points to her cane’s handle. “He was worried about you.” 

“I know.” Like the very eloquent person she is, she chokes. For all her teachings, all the words in her rolodex, she finds herself at a loss. “I’m sorry for worrying you all. I’m sorry for worrying you.” She brings their conjoined hand up, kisses the backs of Imogen’s knuckles. “I promise to be more open with you, as long as you promise to get more sleep.” Very coyly she softens her eyes, quirks just the corners of her lips. 

“Deanna got to you too?” Imogen giggles the girliest giggle kissing Laudna square on the mouth. “She did always say when I found the right person I’d feel tired around them, too awake without them.” Her eyes are the most dazzling shade of royal purple. Laudna nearly looses herself to the softness of them. 

“Ever since I’ve been deemed clear to leave the med ward… Since you’ve been away. I haven’t slept all that well either.” She admits, heart pounding. 

“Does that mean you’d like to stay with me tonight or… until you’re able to move more freely?” It’s the most vulnerable Imogen has ever sounded. 

“I think I’d like that very much, LightningStrike.” She leans in kissing the scared girl behind the worlds Commander. 

Chapter Text

Pale early morning sun pours in through lace covered windows. Shines across their delicate threads lighting Imogen’s room in the gentleness of muted yellow-white rays. It’s the perfect level of blued yellow visibility for Laudna’s dragging of charcoal across thick, fibrous paper.

It’s surface was so different from the metal of her prison cell. Each stroke of her chosen medium sank into the paper’s material rather than rested over a smooth, flawless metallic surface. 

Each glide of charcoal blended at the whims of her dirtied fingertips with far less chance of her ruining her efforts. She didn’t have to calculate the pressure of her massaging, hope that she didn’t press too hard darkening shadow where it shouldn’t be or erase her lines all together by mistake.

This particular page was her third so far. The first two were just for practice. Simple geometry and perspective meant solely to figure out the intricacies of real art supplies. Only when she was satisfied enough did she let them slide to the floor weaving back and forth caught on the air’s innate drag. 

She watched them slide across dark stained floorboards in opposite directions, listened to their satisfying scraping sounds with a soft serene feeling in her chest. 

Such a simple mundanity. Peaceful sounds once nothing more than choppy recordings on devices long since in their prime, now quite literally at her fingertips. Just because she could her fingers pinch and rub at the edge of her page. It’s dull sharpness keeps her mind focused where she tries to map her muse.

Each draw of charcoal, each smudging grainy rub like music notes in the song of creation. Their harmonious tune followed the gentle methodic time of deep sleepy breaths. The quiet rise and heavy fall of the woman turned on her side to face her asleep so peacefully, the title of the quiet melody Laudna gently hummed along to.

Her dark umber eyes danced along bar lines and weaved around quiet pianos gently taking in the tranquil features of the face she’s drawing. She followed the slope of Imogen’s neck up to the sharpness of her jaw, careful not to cut herself against it’s razor edge. 

She sketched the curve of her cupids bow. Shaded in the slightly scabbed bits of otherwise soft delicate lips, their memory a distraction from the apples of her cheeks unblemished from the hardship of consciousness. 

Gods, if her fingertips weren’t stained in dark dusty black of the medium between them she’d run them along the edge of that spellbinding face. Maybe un-curtain the lavender waves draped across her closed eyes, just a few stray locks resting over the bridge of her nose and idly swaying with each in and out of breath through her slightly parted mouth.

If she’d the forethought she’d gently scratch at the spot right around Imogen’s temple rather than add it’s notes to her ever growing song of dusty charcoal. Instead, loath to stain the reverent beauty of Imogen’s peaceful features, she meticulously copies them onto paper humming something soft all the while. 

“No!” Imogen takes in a deep rush of air. Flies up to sitting looking round her room panting likes she’d run a marathon. Red coats her eyes lighting with each and every rapid blink, her gaze not quite fully awake.

The woman from space startles. She’s so engrossed in familiar artful movements, the almost muscle memory of committing her whims to reality she almost ruins her entire work jumping into the stratosphere. It’s the furthest thing from her mind, page and charcoal finding a new home on the bed’s edge rather than her lap. 

“You’re alright.” She speaks in a softness she only finds when it’s just the two of them. It’s automatic, the specific tone and pitch she’s come to call the ‘Imogen voice.’ She’s watched it disarm the human trapped beneath stone. Watched and memorized the exact features, the slightest movements of Heda’s face as shale gives way to Imogen. 

It’s not a guarantee or some finite way to rid broken amethyst and steely words. And she doesn’t want it to be. The Imogen voice isn’t a tool to sand the harder edges of Commander. It’s just something that happens around the both of them.

“Lau…” Imogen shuts her eyes tightly. Shakes her head back and forth subtly bringing a hand to press against her forehead. “Ugh.” Her delicate face twists in pain, palms shoving hard into her temples and scarred fingertips digging into her hair.

“I’m right here, darling.” Laudna reaches across the inches between them. Gently begins a careful up and down along Imogen’s spine. 

A breath more rattled than a newborns toy. “You’re alive.” It’s a matter-of-fact statement. Like Imogen’s trying to remind herself, prove it to be as true as the sky is blue. 

“I- Of course?” The woman of starlight stills, her hand stopped on the middle of taught back muscles. Imogen slowly turns to her, pain evident on her face. She winces like she did at their very first celebration night. Her eyes won’t fully open, their color muted to a grey-ish purple. The first and most obvious sign of a skull splitting migraine. 

This is only the third time Laudna’s seen this dreary color drained into the Grounder’s leader’s irises. These moments of true unadulterated and unbridled pain much rarer than her average headaches.

“Y’know that bein’ Heda gives me certain abilities, right? Like the past Commander’s bein’ a constant annoyance?” The trepidation in her shaking southern accent sends every single neuron firing in Laudna’s body. The woman of fallen stars nods regardless, gently and silently gives Imogen the time and space she needs to continue. 

“Sometimes I get these… These visions. They’re never good and.” The trembling woman sucks a breath where words try to escape her. “They always come true. No matter what I do. No matter how hard I try they always come true. Each vision is a sealed fate.” She sounds more like she’s talking to herself. Remembering something she’d rather not, traumatized by their ends. 

Laudna knows that tone like a sister. It’s the same one she used when trying to talk herself out of her parents deaths. Again and again reminded it was herself that got that killed, if she hadn’t screamed so loudly. If she hadn’t found that list… 

Muted greyed eyes find hers regretfully. Glossy and half open they’re filled to their watery brims in mortal anguish. “Otohan kills you. Right in front of me. In my arms reach.” Her voice is more wobbly than a snake on the move. Yet her tone shifts closer to protection, for who remains unsaid. And then in an instant, a flash of resolve Imogen crumbles under a resignation she’s found by herself. 

“We need to stop this, us.” Her already heavy voice feels like it’s made of tungsten. It hits Laudna so hard she can’t find breath. Her eyes open wide and she feels every bone in her body crack under the sheer force of those words. 

“Absolutely not.” She speaking without thought. Desperate to stop the inevitable path her maybe partner is already speeding down. She just hopes she can get a hold of her before she’s gone forever. 

“Do you suddenly not understand what I’m sayin’? If you stay with me, you’ll die. If you remain by my side you die. I’d rather spend the rest of my time alive regretting your absence than spend it mourning at your grave. There aren’t enough flowers in the world to soften your coffin, to blanket you in death’s cold embrace.” Imogen is sliding behind her stoney amor. Clearly this fight, or argument has been decided and Laudna refuses to accept her lines. She refuses to watch the barbed wire ivy slinking around the parts of stone Imogen manages to claw her way out of.

“You think so little of me?” Laudna asks in a quiet practiced voice. It’s firm unwavering tone forced, her emotions and anxious heart set to the side until they prove less reckless. 

All the fear in her chest, all the desperate need to cling to her maybe partner like moss to tree bark, can wait until she manages to fit herself into Imogen’s decided script and rip it to shreds. She’d rather be damned by the Lord of the Hells himself than let her life be dictated for her ever again. 

The Grounder of them must’ve been anticipating a different response, or maybe she thought Laudna would spit and scream her throat raw to the unmoving statue her person used to be. But the shock in her pained greyed eyes is so unbridled and pure Laudna feels just the corner of her mouth jump just slightly up. All that training to remain a neutral front, all for naught in the presence of the stars.

“You think I’ll just sit on the side and forget you? Imogen Temult, Heda to the world and bearer of my heart, I’d choose you over anything, even the threat death. The weight of regret may be shoulder-able to you but it’d consume me like a black hole. I can’t be on the outside. I can’t sit and watch you from a distance like some longing damsel in a tragic fairytale.” She stops only to refill her lungs with air. Stops only long enough to watch the way greyed eyes dart between her own. Skim across her face marking every single emotional twitch in her features. 

“You’re my prince and I can’t lose your touch now that I know you.” She trails off slowly leaning forward and pressing her lips gently to Imogen’s forehead. She remembers her mother used to say a kiss can take away just a little bit of pain and some of the anguish a loved one feels. That just their presence helped the brain release Gamma-aminobutyric acid, or GBA. The natural calming chemical. 

She hopes the intake of shaky breath her next feather light kisses in the same area pulls means she’s right, her mother. She hopes each light touch of her love eases the pound behind grey-purple eyes. Hopes she eases away some of the mortal anguish that always seems to find it’s way into her maybe girlfriends life.

She can’t bring herself to check, doesn’t want to know if her mother’s superstition is just that and nothing more. 

“With or without you I meet the same fate. To live without you is to live without light. I’ve done that once already and it nearly destroyed me. Don’t take away our happy ending before we’ve had a chance to experience it.” Laudna kisses Imogen’s lips physically relaxing at the instant kissing back. She only pulls away when Imogen decides to move, waits a polite beat feeling tension start to build in the mounting silence around them. 

“Do you think you have it in you to fight fate with me?” Her smile is gentle and it get’s the exact disbelieved ‘are you serious?’ Laugh she was looking for. It’s enough to melt away the arguments she was already thinking of. Every point Imogen was going to make vanishes behind those gapped teeth and weary tired features. 

“I think I can find it in me to fight to hold the stars in my sky, it’s better than looking at ‘em from a distance. As beautiful as they are.” Imogen’s tiny giggle get’s an already flushed face burning at the heat of the sun. 

“And you say my tongue’s been dipped in silver.” Laudna mumbles hiding behind the palm of her hand across her mouth, the other reaching behind her and crunching slightly with the sounds of wrinkling paper. 

It’s enough to distract from the lingering, etching worry in that beautifully worn face. Laudna for all intents and purposes let’s the moment fade from crescendo to something much softer. Really, why argue about something they can’t control right now? In this quiet moment of tranquil bars and melodic hums. Of greyed eyes fighting not to dissociate and plan in that  ever busy mind of hers.

“Busy this mornin’?” Imogen’s fingers grip tossed covers akin to a life line. They shake with the remnants of her worry, the kind that lingers in the back of the mind. Laudna knows it well. Knows exactly what that soft far off look is. 

“Oh yes.” The woman of stars let’s her smile stretch too far. Moves too big and beams too brightly. If Imogen needs a North Star to follow, then that’s what she’ll become. Despite her own worries, her own constant half thoughts of the fights sure to come up between them in the not so distant future, she will shine and chase away the dark of nightmares. 

“I wasn’t quite done, so, don’t judge my skill too harshly. It’s been a very long time since I’ve scratched behind this particular interests’ ear.” Her fingers curl around the edges of her page and. 

She’s nervous. Under everything else, between images of blood and the beauty before her, a childish nervousness make her halt. She bites her lip letting it drag back into place. 

“I promise I’ll like it no matter how awful it is.” Imogen’s smile is… less of an actual thing and more of a polite gesture. She jokes, her greyed out eyes giving her playful nature away but…. She’s already falling down the path of Heda’s thinking. 

“My hero.” Laudna feels her own positive nature waver, though, it goes fully unnoticed. Still she adds a chuckling timber to her words and airily, over dramatically slow, hands Im- 

She fights a sigh. Heda, normally a cracked amethyst, is hardened silver where Imogen had been sitting. Ah, so Delilah and her entourage manage to weave their way into what little life Laudna had been making for herself in only a single nightmare. 

Her crafted calm stays handing Heda her scrawled out art face down. Careful lightning scarred fingers take only the very edges of the fibrous paper. The softened pianoed sounds scrape through the air turning ever so carefully between capable fingertips. 

The moment silvered irises take in the sleeping portrait unaware of her observer Heda gasps. Rapidly, almost too fast to track she bounces from Laudna’s worried anxiety ridden gaze and the sleeping figure between them. 

“This is…” A mix of light southern and stark Grounder speak at once. It’s a discordant drawl. Beautiful, dark, an acquired sound. 

Laudna’s death grip on her hands only tightens. “If you don’t like it you can tell me. It, I really haven’t actually had real art supplies before so-”

“Are ya, kidding me?” Heda-mogen disbelievedly balks. “StarLight, this is amazing.” It’s like she can’t rip her eyes away from the fairly one to one drawing. Every scan down each tiny detail only serving as reason for the pounding bass drum in the sky dweller’s chest. 

“I only captures your likeness.” Very cheekily Laudna leans just enough prompting Imogen to meet her waiting lips half way. 

“Perhaps SilverTongued would’ve been a far more suited name.” The sentence is all Heda. Southern twang hidden away where Imogen remains protected in her stoned armor. 

“Stop being so easy to boast then, my love.” Laudna kisses her again content in wasting away the rest of their quiet, migraine aware morning.

——

Really. What should she have expected? Deanna told her to stay put or else, right? And someone so holy, devout to their god, should never be disobeyed. Or so Keeper Yennen tried to instill in the more rowdy children on Whitestone. Always saying there would be divinely intervention or karma would get them eventually. 

So perhaps this sudden downpour on her very slow, hobbling journey back to her provided shelter is her punishment. Her clothes are stuck to her, her hair a wet stringy mess, and she has to concentrate to keep herself from falling on the slick muddied road. 

By the time she’s pushing into the building she knows her friends are more than likely hiding out in she’s sure innocent children have started a rumor of the newest “Jrusar Banshee.” 

“Woah!” Letters, Ashton, and Chetney yell jumping at her sudden arrival. 

“If you’d all kindly turn away. I need to be dry.” She already tearing her shirt off. Laughs the collective sudden turn of her friends. 

“So, have fun last night?” Chetney asks the wall in front of him, old man voice dipped in that same tone he uses for the more ‘sexy’ woods he works with. 

“Yes, actually. I finally managed to get some restful sleep.” Tugging on a dry pair of black form fitting pants she doesn’t feel the need to clarify. “You’re good.” 

All three heads turn to her at the same time. Each trying to discern exactly what she means. She doesn’t give them a hint in either way instead looking at a very specific shape at Letters’ bedside. 

“Oh!” Like a lightbulb going off the shortest of them all grins brightly. “This is for you.” They’re already across the room holding a black leather and metal contraption. 

Instantly she’s bombarded with the last time she was told ‘this is for you.’ She can feel under skin where the brace had rested. Where it buckled and sprung and so narrowly avoided ripping out her kneecap. 

“Don’ worry Laudna, it shouldn’t be able to uh. Surprise us this time!” Their voice is happy. Truly so. Free and. Damnit. They are a really calming presence. 

“If I end up worse than before I’m taking your kneecaps.” Delaying her fate she moves slower than molasses up hill. Gently sits on the little cot she’s called hers and breathes. 

“Kneecap?” Ashton gives her a playful raised eyebrow. 

“Caps. Compensation.” She jokes giving the sturdiest of them a cheeky wink. It does little to ease the tension in his body, that protective urge always there when it comes to Letters. 

“If you need help I’ve got the chisel.” Chetney moves in to stand at Laudna and Letters’ side. He clicks his tongue motioning with his hand exactly how he’d pop off each bone. 

“Mm.” Laudna muses a bit. “More fun if I do it myself.” She meets piercing blue eyes the both of them breaking into childish grins. 

“Real nice of ya Laudna. Do you want my help or not?” They cross their arms stopping their showing how each strap comes undone. There are two identical straps at the top and bottom of the brace. It’s made of dark leathers tightly molded to bits of metal beneath. Whence the straps come apart the cylindrical device lays open like a once rolled map. 

“I do. And I appreciate what you and Deanna have done.” She genuinely let’s her voice soften. She squeezes their shoulder adding on “I also like where my bones currently are.” 

“So do I.” Gentle sapphire hardens to diamond where their eyes meet once again. The air tenses. Both of them sizing each other up then, 

“Ughhh. Fine. But I’ll never let you forget you’re the reason I only have one working kneecap.” The mock tension fade and Letters sits besides his injured friend. 

“Fair. Now pay attention. This side here,” He runs his fingertips over the solid leather backing pressing to the back of her knee. She hisses. Winces a bit at the electricity shooting all the way to her side. “That has to go here. Then you take the side flaps and…” They trail pulling the right side as far left as they can followed by overlapping the left. “Then ya take these strappy bits and lock it all into place. The springy parts here,” They point to the slightly protruded edges of the finely formed leather. “, will make the brunt of your weight.” 

“Mhm." She hums but her eyes stay on those ‘springy bits.’ She tests just going up to her tip toes where she sits happy they don’t rip through and explode across the room. Ashton and Chetney flinch back. Apparently her fears aren’t so unfounded. 

“When your ready.” Chetney encourages in that sagely way he always does. 

“I’ll laugh if you trip.” Ashton’s arms remain crossed tightly across his chest, his care showing through his asshole-ery. 

“Mhm.” She’s only half paying attention. Her mind is racing, heart pounding. Each foot is flat on the floor, the handle of her cane in her palm. She can feel the sturdiness of the both of them. The ground unmovable and the bone un-crushable beneath her. “One, two,” She shoots to her feet. 

Black leather creaks. She feels the support at the back of her knee stop it from buckling. Whatever pressure would be pressing too far down is stopped fully taken on by the brace. 

“Ho-oh my Gods.” She laughs uncomfortably. “Oh my Gods!” Suddenly she’s walking faster than she has in nearing three months. She turns and goes and damn near flies running, or, speed walking, around their relative shelter like a kid screaming ‘look at me!’ 

“Look at me!” She yells. “ Holy shit I can- Letters! I love you!” She’s wrapped around her friend like moss to tree bark. 

“I love you too!” They pull away raking their eyes over her. “Maybe take it easy. It’s not a cure. It won’t take any the pain or the injury-”

“I never needed a cure.” Something shifts in her. Something she didn’t know needed a little healing. It brings tears to her eyes, the rain slamming down against the roof filling the warm silence between the four of them. 

“I was saving this. Who’s up for a round of ‘what the fuck is up with that?” Ashton suddenly holds two pitchers of putrid smelling alcohol. His grin is so full of shit they all know in an instant their hangovers are going to be absolutely next level.