Private Tales Scorched Earth

[Fife]

Any thread of emotion between them was better than none. Fife held herself open just enough to capture the faint colors of him in her mind without overwhelming him with the cacophony swirling just behind her walls.

His hand cradled her against him, gentle yet firm. Her eyes opened slowly while his frustration unraveled. It was slowly taking a bitterly familiar shape. Raigryn was once again in the valley that lay between apathy and awareness. She knew she needed to tread carefully or leave him alone, but also knew that she didn't want to leave him -- not even temporarily, -- ever again.

Fife held him tighter and nodded. She made no move to get up or to sign to him. Her mood was swinging toward bittersweet and she stubbornly fought against the threat to tip from Joy to Misery.

She had to keep it together. Her fingers curled into his clothes, a link between them. He was real, not an illusion. He was not well but he was alive. She could fix this. Her breathing fluttered as she drew it in deep and exhaled slowly. She was fine. She should be happy to be back with him. Lawrence's poison and its effects would fade soon. The whole Raigryn would look back at her from dark eyes again soon. She would see the shimmer of gold reflected back in his mind again soon. He would remember that he loved her.

She could last that long, could be their anchor for a little while longer.

Sitting back, Fife wiped the few stubborn tears from her eyes and flashed him a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

We can go soon. A few days. She didn't tell him why. She didn't want him to worry, especially over her.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

It took him longer than it should have done to follow the signs. It had been as easy as oral conversation before. Now his mind moved slowly and he was out of practise.

Raigryn looked around the cell. It was a cell. He was being held here. He frowned and itched at his overgrown beard. He tried to put events in order so he could work out how long he had been here for.

When he couldn't, despair crossed his expression for a fleeting moment.

"I would like to go," he repeated. Raigryn reached up to her cheek. His thumb brushed away a tear just as it formed in the corner of her eye.

"You want to as well."

 

[Fife]

There was a familiarity in the way he reached out to wipe the tear from her eye. It made the breath she let go of tremble, made her insides twist in finite agony. It was a breach of personal space that had come late in their friendship -- a trust that had been earned slowly. She didn't flinch, didn't jerk away. Her lips parted and her gaze to meet his.

The staggering shifts in her mood were tiring. She felt herself hurtling toward a heady desire that was ill suited to the time and place. Fife reined it in hard, her hands curling into fists in her lap and tempering her thoughts. The breath she pulled was uneasy.

Yet she hesitated to answer him. She sat still in spite of the mental struggle unfolding inside her head. As usual, she was the first to look away.

I do. But I... Soon, she said again. When you are better. Fife raised a fleeting glance to meet his eyes again. Lying to Raigryn had once been second nature, but now it chafed. Her reassuring smile was thin. As soon as he had more of his faculties about him, her emotional state and the real reason for their prolonged detainment were going to be evident enough. And as soon as he was himself to tell Lawrence she was fine, they could go.

She wasn't fine. She was tipping from one extreme to another and the effort required to soften it was exhausting.

Until then, can I stay here with you? I am tired. That, at least, was honest.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Of course you can, we should order some food up," he replied. Calm and easy, as if they were back in one of the inns along the road. Back when he would count out the coins from writing letters and decide what kind of spend of beer and food - or perhaps even wine - was sensible.

At least he was spared from the sense of missing her so deeply. Time had passed slowly, but looking back Raigryn didn't feel as if much time had passed since they had arrived here.

"You look like you could do with some rest."

 

[Fife]

She nodded. It wasn't exactly an inn they could order from, but she didn't see why they would deny her such a simple request. Her smile warmed. At his next words it only wobbled a little as she bowed her head and nodded again. She could think of nothing better than curling up beside him tonight -- even if it was an unfeeling cell and not a cozy inn.

With a bracing sigh, mischief curled her lips and made her eyes bright.

You look like you need a bath, she teased back. She snickered mercilessly, Joy crashing into her senses like a wave that drowned her.

Fife raised her fingers to touch the overgrown wisps of beard along his jaw. As they followed the line of his neck, however, her head tilted curiously to the side and her smile sobered. Raigryn was no longer wearing that awful collar and the red splotches had faded. Improvement. She would take it without complaint.

In the spirit of doing exactly what she said she was going to do (and ignoring the reality that he did need a bath), Fife shed her weapons and coat in a neat pile. Her clothes were different, no longer the snug fit of Idemni styles and instead the more generalized fit of Elbion fashion. The scar from the mage's spell was tactfully hidden beneath a buttoned collar and long sleeves.

Are you tired? How do you feel? she asked as she sat down beside him again. Some conversation (or as much as he could handle right now) and some much-needed time together, and then she would go get food.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"How do I feel?"

Raigryn chewed over the question. Within himself he reached to touch his Aspects. They were beyond his reach. He had a single spot of light to stand within, darkness beyond where they usually resided. He was in balance, but isolated, caged in place.

"I am tired," he said. That single exertion felt like too much. Raigryn tilted his head back and yawned. The puzzle was left behind him. Little troubled him for long like this and the questions he posed of himself faded long before he could grasp the answers.

"Your sword..." he said, eyeing it where it had been placed. "...you were given it by...by..."

 

[Fife]

It occurred to her after asking that that wasn't a very good question to ask. She watched him with her breath held. Thankfully he seemed to move past the question easily with a simple reply. No episode. No panic. No confusion. It meant he was still too far away from reality, but Fife was relieved. She didn't think she had the wherewithal to weather it right now. Was that terrible of her? Guilt lanced through her chest.

She blinked at the sword in question, then looked back up at Raigryn. His apathy disconnected him from time and feelings, but also his recall. She let him puzzle it out for a moment, hoping he might get it on his own. When he obviously appeared at a loss, she held up her hand to get his attention.

Aretta, she signed in the abbreviated form she had made for her name, then spelled it out for him -- just in case. After we arrived in Indretar. For my lessons.

She looked at the sword, then up at him with a hopeful grin. Do you remember?

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Of course I remember," he replied. There was a little bit of pride in his voice. The kind of inflection that could easily fall into irritation.

"Indretar, yes."

He nodded, even as his eyes glazed over. He was still shifting in and out of focus. The present moment something that he couldn't entirely grip. It was better than having no hold on it at all.

"Maybe we should have stayed there longer," he said. If he'd been more self aware it would have been rather insightful. Raigryn had lost the connection in memory between then and now. It had gone wrong somewhere.

 

[Fife]

That small flare of pride and offense made her laugh. It wasn't a stolen laugh, but her own. It felt good for her feelings to truly match the jarring whims of the Aspects still throwing her off balance.

The glimpse of him was fleeting before his eyes went glassy and drifted away. There was nothing in the air between them but her own emotions. The full sobriety of his remark didn't reach his voice, the words spoken like a casual observation on the weather. But they hit Fife with their full weight and then some.

Her throat tightened and her lungs shuddered. Sorrow and regret clawed at her, dragging her deep into the well of those emotions. They should have stayed there. They never should have left somewhere that felt like it could be home. She shouldn't have been too proud to rely on them until she figured out who or what she was.

We should rest, she told him, because she didn't know what else to say instead. She certainly wasn't going to be unpacking any of this right now. It was all she could do to keep from crying and offer a feeble grin instead.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"We should rest," he agreed.

The cocktail of magically-infused chemicals they had been administering had ruined any schedule of sleep he had. The isolation within the small cell didn't help. He had been drifting in and out of sleep, letting the hours pass by.

He knew she was upset. He knew he was the reason for that too, or at least something he had said. All he had was a single bed. Stone hollowed out above the slab and a thin mattress of tightly packed straw.

---

"I don't need those herbs?" Jenna, the healer who had tended Fife's shoulder replied to Lawrence.

"We need more to treat Raigryn," he lied. It was a thin lie too. It was a bit of a gamble to trust Jenna, but the relatively innocent girl worked to his plan. "Fife is going to accompany you to Elbion, protect you."

Because he needed her away for a long day.

 

[Fife]

The narrow quarters didn't bother her a bit. Fife let him take the inside, fit herself under his arm, and snuggled close. She lay for a few minutes with her head resting on his shoulder while her mind wandered. After days on the road and struggling to manage wild moods, she was utterly exhausted. Still, her thoughts kept her from sleep in the worst way.

Against her best efforts and in spite of every attempt to swing her thoughts in another direction, one couldn't really falsify their emotions. They welled up from a source deep inside her and sought the comfort of familiar arms. Guilt and regret and anger clogged her throat and her eyes stung. Fife closed them, pressed her face against his side, and her fingers curled into a fistful of his shirt. Her pride slunk off to some distant corner and her shoulders shook softly. She hated crying, especially in front of Raigryn and especially now.

But she wasn't strong enough. She couldn't be an anchor when she was also a boat tossed on stormy waves.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

There was enough of him just below the surface to move as Raigryn would have done. He wasn't still and listless as he had been before.

Raigryn didn't really think too much on the sounds she made. It didn't register and send a pang of concern through him. His hand still came up to caress the back of her head, the hold her nice and close to his chest.

---

"Fife?" came the soft call from the door. Lawrence had walked past almost an hour ago. It had taken all his self control to stop a spike of frustration from drawing her attention.

Fife hadn't visited him often seen being given permission. He had hoped she was giving up on him, even as her determination to get the job done seemed to grow.

It didn't alter the plan, but the sight of her clinging to him certainly shook his faith in it.

 

[Fife]

She slept better than she had in a while, an excessive sense of Tranquility dousing her fitful dreams. His embrace was as detached and impartial as a blanket, but it was still Raigryn's. It was better than a shared space with a bunch of standoffish teens.

She never slept too deeply, however, and Lawrence's voice woke her easily. Startling gently, Fife checked to be sure Raigryn was still sleeping before sitting up and turning toward the door. Quite reluctantly, she carefully unwound herself from Raigryn's limbs. She slipped on her boots, jacket, and sword, then crossed the room -- all in near silence.

One final check to assure herself she hadn't woken him and Fife stepped outside with Lawrence. Her eyes were still tired, half lidded and heavy, and she ran a hand over tousled hair in a small attempt to tame it. Still, she gave him her undivided attention.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"You need more sleep," Lawrence said.

He allowed just a touch of faux sympathy to enter his voice. It was a long time since he had been a lone assassin, but he still knew not to overdo any pretense. It was always a subtle affair.

Ge moved away from the doorway, lowering his voice. She had made an effort not to wake the old man so he did the same.

"But after that I need you to escort Jenna into Elbion. It's more safe there than it has been, but not that safe."

 

[Fife]

The flicker of his emotion was strange. Fife's brow creased in confusion and she simply nodded in response to his concern.

Sleep had never come easily to her and whatever improvements she had been making prior to this place were on a steady backslide. Did she expect him to know that? No. Could she relate that to him? Also no. But it was obvious to everyone that she only grabbed a handful of hours most nights and she suspected he kept his ear close to the ground about all of them.

Fife glanced back at Raigryn's sleeping form again before she followed Lawrence a few steps down the hall to avoid waking him. She kept herself between Lawrence and the door when they stopped, and frowned deeper at his request.

Another task. Fife pointed to her chest and shook her head. Why her? Why not one of the others? She appreciated the work Jenna had done to heal her arm; without her diligence, Fife would have had a much nastier scar than the one she now carried on her right shoulder. But she had been doing her job here the same as Fife. It had not been personal. She owed her no favors -- especially when the favor was taking her away from Raigryn while he was transitioning out of his apathy. A trip to Elbion would take several days. The reluctance showed, another glance back toward the door and her gaze lingering there.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Jenna needs some things to help deal with the...side effects."

It was a stretch of the truth. These were almost all entirely the planned effects.

"I don't have anyone else to spare. Besides, you can spend some of your earnings whilst you're there. I am told many of the stores are running again despite the place being chaotic."

 

[Fife]

For Raigryn. And an opportunity to get supplies for their journey away from here. Thr latter excuse wasn't even that necessary toward convincing her. She wasn't going to question what they had been dosing him with or how he should be coming down from it. While she didn’t want to trust anyone here, she wasn't really in a position to know otherwise. Fife wasn't an alchemist or healer. For now, she had to trust them with Raigryn's well-being.

As for their supplies, she had spent a year at Raigryn's side. Whether he had intended to teach her or not, she had always been listening to his business transactions. She had picked up a lot and was confident she could supply them with the bear minimum. Gods knew she had the funds for it after her share of Arrol's bounty.

A fleeting memory swam up to the fore of her mind. Fife just as quickly dismissed the image of Raigryn's surprise the last time she had taken it upon herself to earn some coin.

A quick trip to Elbion. It wouldn't be long if everything went right. Even if things went sour, she was sure she could ferret herself and one small woman away. Chewing her lip and her arms crossed in front of her, her gaze had drifted back to the cell door as she thought.

Eventually Fife nodded reluctantly.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Good, and your share of the last bounty..."

Lawrence pulled another, heavier purse of coins from some hidden pocked about his person. He gave the bag a gentle toss towards Fife so she was forced to catch it.

"I daresay the pickpockets are out in Elbion but I imagine that won't be a problem for you. Elbion allows weapons openly displayed if you have a permit now. We do of course have permits."

Lawrence peered towards the door. If there could have been more time to shape her then his plan would have gone more smoothly, but when the Empath had been sighted his hand was forced. Others always got in the way of his plans. Rarely he found a reason to blame himself for failure.

"I doubt he'll be safe to leave for a few days."

 

[Fife]

Movement, an object being thrown at her, triggered the automatic response to catch it. The pouch jingled in her hands. Fife's eyes widened. It was so much heavier than she expected a thing of its size to be. Her portion from Arrol's bounty had seemed excessive, but this…

She wanted it about as much as the other bounty, but Fife wasn't a complete fool; they were going to need it if Raigryn was going to be out of commission. And she did expect him to be -- for a little while, at least.

You wanted the opportunity to pull your weight, didn't you? She tucked the pouch away bitterly.

Fife listened to him and looked up once again to follow his eyes. Fife nodded. That, at least, they could agree on. Raigryn wasn't fully aware of his surroundings. He was in no shape for riding and traveling.

Unable to converse, she offered Lawrence a final nod and turned back for Raigryn's door. Perhaps it was selfish to take liberties from a man who didn't even seem to remember they were lovers instead of teacher and pupil. Perhaps this was one of those cases where it was better to ask for forgiveness than for permission. A moral dilemma she could puzzle out later.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"You make a very good assassin," Lawrence said quietly towards her back. "There's good money for those who know how to use a sword and magic. Better than in writing letters."

He said it as if he were an old friend offering casual advice. Then he turned on his heel and marched away. Perhaps he could find a use for the old man, or at least somewhere to safely stash him and then he could keep Fife. It was an option that had always been in the back of his mind, but not a particularly attractive one.


Raigryn had stirred just a little at the sound of soft conversation beyond the door. One eye opened to look towards it.

 

[Fife]

There had been a time in her life where she had been desperate for the attention of people like Lawrence. She had struggled to scrape up enough merit to be worthy of the time of even lesser crime syndicates. Now she was a prize that Lawrence and the Steel Coin wanted in their roster. A rare mage whose abilities were still young and growing. That was no longer a life she wanted; more than her circumstance had changed in her this past year.

It took a lot of effort to remain calm, centered. Outwardly, anyhow. Fife looked over her shoulder, her expression was carefully neutral. But she had looked. Doubt crept into her mind, if only for a moment.

If she wanted to be an assassin, it would not be for these people.

She slipped back into the cell and quietly shut the door. Pausing there, she leaned her forehead against it to wait for the sound of Lawrence's retreat. Her heart was racing and her head was swirling. As she listened, however, she realized that the familiar, rhythmic breathing in the room had quieted.

Fife faced Raigryn from across the small cell. A flutter of panic shivered up her body from her knees to her shoulders and she looked very much like she had been caught red-handed in something she shouldn't have been.

Recovering quickly, she returned to his bedside and shed her boots, jacket, and sword once more with an easy smile. Like nothing had changed. Like the coin pouch didn't jingle in its pocket.

It is alright. Go back to sleep, she told him as she sat down again. Completing the signs, her hand came to rest on Raigryn's arm.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

Raigryn nodded slowly. He didn't go back to sleep. He closed his eyes and focussed. She was upset. He wanted to go back to that sanctuary within himself. To library of memories and feelings that he drew from. He could almost hear the sound of his boots on that familiar, wooden floor.

It eluded him, remained closed off. She was upset and he could not think of how to help. He couldn't even draw on his power to offer his strength to her.

"Is it alright?" He asked, placing his hand over hers and opening his eyes.

 

[Fife]

Something in his question, his doubt, made her smile wobble. Fife laced her fingers in his and squeezed.

It was not really alright and yet she nodded -- a lie she couldn't give any voice to. She would make it alright, but this was a lie nonetheless. Raigryn would understand later. For now, she did not want to worry him with things he couldn't understand without his connection to his emotions.

Raising their joined hands, she briefly pressed his fingers to her lips before letting him go. She lay down beside him and snuggled close without anything more to say.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"I'll look after you," he said. It would be impossible to tell if he really understood what was going on or if he was acting on automatic. His brain drawing from the past what he should say in the present instead of having any real comprehension.

Whilst the exact situation was beyond him, a soft light was shined upon that library he kept on his mind. The light didn't reach all of the shelves etched in gold, but touched pages dedicated to her and her alone.

A muted sense of emotion, a glow that had little strength behind it but was uninhibited by any barriers.

He had not looked after her. He hadn't protected her from the assassins motivated not to do her harm, but to turn her into the worst version of herself.

 

[Fife]

She was glad she already had her face laid against his ribs when he spoke. Raigryn’s voice vibrated in his chest and into her, a feeling she had never herself experienced and only felt through him. It was deep, comforting -- as much so as the words he cose. And with them came the soft glow of emotion. Warm, honest, tangible.

Fife felt small. She was still tired and overwhelmed by the dangerous tilt of her emotions from one extreme to another. Even if his voice felt hollow, that faint, tiny glimmer of emotion sent her reeling away from any sense of balance she had been stubbornly clinging to. In the depths of apathy, out of touch with his Aspects and disconnected from most memory, he was still this good person. He was still better than she was.

Her hands balled into his shirt and held him tight. She hated crying. She had done it too much in the last few days for her comfort, and yet there was no force in the world that could stop her from doing it again. Not that she wasn’t trying. Fife nodded and held him tight, but the sniffles and hitch to her shoulders gave her away.

She couldn’t wait to be away from here. She wanted to be past this part of their lives, past the part where she lied to him and he wasn’t himself.