Private Tales Scorched Earth

[Raigryn Vayd]

Raigryn grinned back at Fife as he read her little message. She had improved without him. Time had flown by without him counting it and this was another stark reminder. He took a breath.

He would have their quiet lessons of quillmanship to look forward to, just as much as magic and swords. He imagined a more domestic time. Less swords and sorcery and danger. A nice warm fire, maybe the warmth of a glass of rum and practising her script.

He looked up at Fife, knowing she would have felt his regret in the form of Misery touched with Fury.

"I know you might have felt that," he said, "Think nothing of it. Just time that I have missed with you."

"So..." he began sitting more upright. "A comma, which has two M's..." He continued to explain when they were appropriate.

 

[Fife]

She did feel it. Whether intentional or not, she was more keenly aware of his shifting emotions than ever. Partly because she was worried and partly because he had no veil to shield them from her. Fife merely nodded, agreeing and dismissing it. smoothed. Have to ease off, give him more privacy in the future.

The lesson was something she missed terribly. She sat up straighter and listened, her gaze shifting between the page and his face as he spoke. She had seen them in the books she had read, so that gave her some frame of reference to draw from. Her good humor leaned in, a little more than her own Joy and Tranquility weighing her mind down. It felt good, but she tried to reel it back in. Not very successfully.

Fife wrote a few sentences with commas between bites of porridge. She finished her bowl and made one final line of script for him to review and correct.

But it brought them to a silence that needed bridging. Fife set down both quill and spoon and looked up at Raigryn. She let her nervousness, still oddly bright with amusement, filter out between them. A vein of sadness and a steady tone of fear made the baseline of the mood she settled into.

When you took my fear, too much, you saw it. She kept her eyes fixed on his face as she signed. Can you still feel it? Does it... go away after time?

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

Raigryn sat a little straighter. This was going to be a difficult conversation, but it was important. He had to weave the path between brutal honesty and reassurance and get to a place where Fife felt in control of her abilities.

"You drew too deeply and burned too fast," he stated. There was no need for her to confirm this, he had witnessed it himself. He had recognised the after effects.

He reached back into his own mind, feeling the absolutely desperate fear he had once taken. The weight in his back, the struggle for purchase and eventual defeat. It didn't strike him to his very core with the feelings he had long since used up.

"If you felt an experience the memory remains, but not the raw emotions. It's not the same as it fades. It's just like...remembering you remembering something but it's disconnected now. You will always remember what you saw, but the feelings you drew from have been burned away. Does that make sense to you?"

 

[Fife]

She assumed that was the answer. Not an ideal one but what she expected. Fife nodded, even if he already knew why she was asking, and nodded again when he asked if that made sense. It did. She had secondhand feelings, like ghosts of memories that didn't quite feel real from the Aspects she had unwillingly acquired.

Lawrence's were a different story. And now ot was time to tell him about that.

Fife wiggled uncomfortably in her chair. She chewed on her lip and stared at the table between them for a while before lifting her hands to sign again.

I will tell you and you will listen. No stopping. Only listen. Fife looked up enough to be certain he had agreed before taking a long, deep sigh, and beginning.

I trained with young assassins in the Steel Coin, she began. Weeks. Couldn't see you, always training.

Before year end, Lawrence said he had found the Empath. We followed, found him. I did not feel right. Something was wrong. I could not see it, but I did not care; I only wanted it to be done. We fought. He used no Empathy. He burned me. He feared me when I killed him. Fife touched the ripples along her jaw and neck, her fingers trembling.

I understood too late. He was not an Empath. He was a mage. Lawrence said it was a mistake, wrong man, but it was a test. He was seeing if I was ready. Paid me, said good job. Let me see you for the first time. She shook her head and swallowed thickly. I did not know what they had done to you. You… were there but not there.

But that was not what she was confessing to right now. Fife took a deep breath and pressed on.

I still had to help kill the Empath. More weeks. Year end, new year. Finally news of Empath. Tracked him to a village with people, feelings taken. Empty, lost. The Empath was… gone. Very wrong. It was… very scary. He was not afraid of me when I killed him. He was happy. He looked… She made the Idemni signal for relief.

When I killed him, I felt his mind… Fife made a dome out of her hands which she expanded. Pressure. Something bad coming. So many Aspects. Dangerous. People were nearby. Village. Other assassins. I did not know what would happen. I thought Empathy would hurt their minds. I did not want them to get hurt. I leapt on him, made Avarice.

It came apart. Fast, drop ice, small pieces everywhere. There wasn't a word for shattering that she had learned. Aspects everywhere, looking for new cups. My mind was empty cups. All the cups were full of Aspects. Too much in the cups. My mind felt like it was being ripped apart. Everything, in my head at once.

Fife curled her fingers near her temples and scrunched her eyes shut with a taut grimace.

I felt everything. Noise in head. Loud, many voices. I saw. I felt. Not mine, from others. Heavy Aspects, pulled me into full cups. Laughing when I was sad. Angry when I was happy. Wrong feelings. I did not know how to balance full cups.

I could not talk to you. You were there, but you were gone. I didn't know what to do. I was… She mimed the same expanding pressure around her head with a grimace, then shook her head.

Lawrence asked me to do another job. I said no. We had a promise. I had already done more. I was done. I told him we were leaving, as soon as you could ride. Lawrence said… said I would do it or never see you again.

And I was so angry. I knew he had lied to me. I trusted him and he lied. I let them hurt you and hurt me. I was angry at him. I was angry at me and I… Fife paused to rub her hands roughly over her face. She had started crying at some point. She laughed bitterly, and the Joy and Avarice of the memory latched onto her mind like sap -- and she didn't know if it was her own feeling or Lawrence's.

He was so happy to see me hurt. He thought he had won. He would keep me like a dog on a rope, you in a box like a bird. So I took that feeling. I grabbed it and I pulled. I took all of it away. I wanted him to never feel happy again. I wanted him to be empty. I left him alive to be nothing. Then I went to get you. We left.

Fife loosed a gusty breath and wiped her eyes. Her hands finally settled in her lap and she lifted her gaze toward his face. For once, Fife didn't know what to expect. His reproach? His sympathy? What would he think of her now? She had done something unthinkable, malicious. She braced herself for the worst, for him to be appalled and disgusted by her actions.

Part of her wanted him to be. He should be. Not even people like Lawrence deserved what she had done. Guilt and regret colored her mind, but it could not overpower the pride and petty satisfaction it gave her. It would make the harder confession easier if he was already angry or disappointed, if she knew that she had nothing else to lose.

Her eyes did not beg for his forgiveness and understanding, but were flat, anguished. She was weary of carrying these burdens. Bad or good, she wanted finality. She wanted this chapter to end, even if it meant ending what was between them.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

He had braced himself. Like a boxer shielding himself in the corner, but the body blows kept coming. Raigryn let it all sink in. He tried to run it all through in order and sort it into something that made sense in his mind.

Raigryn had expected this to be difficult. He had promised to care for her. Just as she started to get a grip on her powers she was forced to use them without his guidance and for nefarious purposes.

Suddenly, seeing her improved handwriting did not bother him at all.

"You know that I'm going to say sorry and that it has no real meaning when it is all done now and that I had no choice. But I'm still sorry Fife," he said, reaching across the table for her hand.

"Those Empaths that have gone so far that they will drain without any control are some of the most dangerous people alive. By forcing Empaths into hiding they have probably made their creation even more likely."

Raigryn caught himself waffling because he didn't have an answer. He hated not having an answer.

" Lawrence tortured you, in his own twisted way, " Raigryn said. A flash of Fury wasn't hidden from her at all. He breathed slowly to calm his nerves and looked up at her.

"Having taken so deeply from thisnother empath and then faced with that, it is no surprise you drew so deep. Its incredible you were even on your feet to get me out. But you must never let it happen again. You've got...more talent than I even realised. But you could end up like that poor wretch you had to kill. You still...ttust my advice, don't you? "

 

[Fife]

He had listened to her, so it was only fair that she listened to him. She did not agree that he needed to apologize to her. He had done nothing wrong. It had been her idea to go along with Lawrence's plan. It had been her choice that had put him in a cell.

Nevertheless, she took the comfort he offered her. It was not rejection. It was not anger.

She listened, unable to take her gaze away from him as she waited for each next word. Like many times before, he was far too good of a person. Raigryn was rationalizing what she had done. He was concerned and upset. He was advising her, even now. Fife stared, then managed to nod.

Yes. Always, she answered. She trusted him. Too much, if she were honest. He had told her to kill someone a few weeks ago and she hadn't even flinched to do it. We had to go. Go or death. Better odds than when they caught us.

As for doing it again, Fife shook her head.

I will not repeat. It felt bad. Wrong. A lesson she only needed to learn once. She was not going to apologize for it, because she was not sorry, but she wasn't going to do it again. My head is almost quiet. Cups not full. Still heavy. Unsteady. I used a lot of Aspects, leaving with you. It was bad early, when it was new. No balance. Always changing.

She wiped at her face again, cleaning up stray tears that had managed to make it past her cheeks. New ones threatened to start anew.

I did bad things. It is hard to tell you. I do not want to tell you. I need to tell you. It feels heavy, like a lie. I do not want to lie to you. Not you.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Oh Fife," he said quietly, shaking his head. He leaned forwards and gripped her arm, just as he felt the lump grow at the back of his throat. He could hold her here without inhibiting her frantic signing.

"I am sat here, trying to find the right advice for you. Because...I think because I always have to have an answer. Always need to know the right thing to do. Always have to be right."

He sighed, tilting his head forward. Even with his fresh new cut, white hair covered his brow and fringe as he felt a wsh of shame.

"Go on," he encouraged her, dragging his hair back with fingertips and meeting her gaze firmly, before letting it fall to her hands.

"I am always here to listen to you."

Because he didn't always have to have the fucking answer. Because no one else had truly listened in her whole life.

 

[Fife]

Go on. I am always here to listen to you. Too good. He was too good for her. Fife's expression twisted in anguish and she turned her face away. She hated crying, but she didn't have the strength not to. As it turned out, she was not strong enough for a lot of things. It wasn't like she could go anywhere else. She didn't want to. They were very conflicting feelings, wanting to hide and wanting to be comforted. They did not reconcile well.

Neither did her shame and her longing. She sought his understanding and forgiveness, but she had to tell him to get there. She risked a lot more than just her pride.

I forgot my crossbow. In that moment, that was all she could say. In the village, when I fought the mage. I forgot it. I did not go back for it. I left it. This wasn't about the crossbow. Fife shook her head harshly.

I left you there. Her fingers hit her sternum hard enough to thump audibly when she indicated herself. She did not conceal the anger and the anguish she felt. You needed me, and I was not strong. You did not know me. Stranger. I only have you and you were gone and I could not look at you. I could not stay with you. I could not be with you.

She struggled to breathe, gasping for air as the first sob hit her. Tears clouded her eyes until she could not see him clearly. Was it better or worse, to see his face or not to?

I left you alone. You always take care of me. You needed me to take care of you. I could not. I failed.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Bugger," he went, "that was a very nice crossbow."

It hadn't even occurred to him on their trip here. All those jangled up memories slowly coming back and not everything had fallen into place.

He couldn't help but look sad for its loss. It wasn't the coin spent, it was the memory of a precious gift he had given. He could remember so clearly her shock at being presented which such a nice thing. It had brought him a great deal of joy.

It didn't hurt as much as having to turn Jocelyn loose into the woods. That was something they hadn't brought up at all. He decided it wasn't the time to mention that again to Fife. For him, Jason V has come after four previous Jason's. A lunasloth did not have a long lifespan. Spending the last year getting fat on moths in one copse of trees was probably the nicest date any of his pets had suffered.

It wasn't the core of what was burning through her. Raigryn nodded slowly as it finally came out. As he finally understood where this guilt was coming from.

Slowly, he rose from the table and walked around behind her. Raigryn dropped to one knee and placed his chin on her shoulder from behind. He wrapped his arms around her.

"I don't think I would have remembered if you had come to see me more Fife. It can't..." he paused with a stuttered sigh. He felt her pain acutely and it would have been easy to break down too.

"I can't really imagine what it was like for you to see me like that."

He tried. Imagining her indifference to him. It hurt and it was merely a scene fleshed out in his head.

"It didn't feel like much time at all to me.." he whispered, starting to choke up, "...but like years to you. I'm so proud you even came through it."

 

[Fife]

She hated crying. She hated that his first response was to comfort her. Fife only felt more angry at herself as his arms closed around her. This wasn't about her. It wasn't supposed to be a moment of pride for her resilience. She had been surviving through shit her whole life like she was cursed to; there was nothing remarkable about it.

It wasn't about whether or not he remembered it. That made it worse -- that he was excusing her mistreatment simply because he didn't remember it.

Fife pushed his hands away with a pained hiss in her throat. She stood and stepped away, forcing more space between them.

No! Tell me you are angry at me. Be angry at me. She choked back her tears, refusing to be the focus of his sympathy.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

Raigryn took a slow step away, lifting his hands to show that they would stay on his side of the line dividing them.

Always wanting to make things better

"Would it make you feel better? If I chastised you for risking your life with dangerous empathy and ignoring my lessons?" he asked.

"Because they will come: the boring lessons and the warnings of empaths long gone and the path to recovery."

He didn't look like a man who could summon any anger at her for managing to survive.

 

[Fife]

Would that make her feel better?

Yes! She shook her head. No!

Yes, because she had been stupid and she didn't want him to blunt his tempers to go easy on her. Fife didn't want to be handled like she was breakable -- never had and never would. She craved his unadulterated response, needed it. And no, because she never wanted Raigryn to be mad at her. Of course she didn't want to argue with him. There was no winning for either of them.

Fife took a shaky breath and tried to gather the thoughts she had been trying to put into words for weeks now. She worried she had done this too soon, when he still wasn't experiencing the full depth of his emotions. He couldn't be rightly upset by her actions when they didn't fully register.

Be angry at me. Let me say I am sorry. Not for Empathy. Tell me I did wrong. Tell me I hurt you. I lied. I left you. She waved her hand in a frustrated, cutting and so on, and so on.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Why don't you get angry at me?" Raigryn asked. He wasn't kind, not any more, but it was still a world away from the anger she felt she needed. She didn't need it, but he knew what place it was coming from. He stopped trying to make this better and just laid out his own feelings.

"Do you want me to beg forgiveness for putting you in danger over and over despite knowing it was wrong? Want to blame me for drawing the attention of the Steel Coin and putting us through this when I promised to keep you safe?"

He closed his mouth to a tight, thin line. He hadn't focused on these feelings of guilt, knowing the damage it could do. He dared her to contradict him with his eyes.

 

[Fife]

Not the same, she argued. It was the same. His guilt unfurled like a flag in the wind, colored with Fury and Misery. It was both dark and bright, airy and heavy. It cloyed her senses and weighed down her shoulders.

I have been safe. You were with me. Without you, my Empathy would have been a danger -- to me, to others. Bad people would have made me something bad. I would have no voice, no name, no friends. I would be something others use, never wanted and never loved.

The good you give me is much more. I am not sorry for the danger. Every day with you is more safe than my life before. Bad happened to me. Much worse than monsters and assassins.

For once, Fife did not shield him from her blunt honesty. Raigryn had known for a long time, had had a glimpse into just a few moments of only one of the worst experiences of her life. If that memory was half as vivid as the ones she now harbored from others, then that was enough for him to understand why death by werewolves and demons was still better than spending one more night in jer life before him.

You gave me everything. I had nothing, and you gave me you. Your life, your friends, your knowledge. You made me something. You made me someone when I was no one. When you were no one, I ran. Not the same.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

His eyebrows rose as she contradicted him. She had back at him hard, hands gesticulating emphatically. Raigryn looking, for a good few seconds, as if he would raise his voice to interrupt her and continue his rant.

He didn't.

Never wanted and never loved

That struck him so hard that he barely managed to remain of his feet. The last scraps of a memory were still there. Just as he had said, it had lost its colour but he could remember the feeling. Being left to redress, alone and ashamed and in pain.

"You were always someone Fife," he whispered. "And you are loved now, so very, very much."

It had been so easy to admit what they were in front of their hosts the night before. Easier than he had expected. It had filled him with joy and pride.

Raigryn's mouth hung open. Lips quivered. He took a breath.

"Lawrence," he growled, "he wouldn't have used force but he could have ground you down over time until you were nothing more than a nameless, voiceless, toy at his disposal. And it would have been my fault.

"But you were too strong."

It wasn't the same firm rebuttal. Each word seemed harder to express than the last. When he was done he reached for a chair, pulling one behind him just before he could collapse into it.

 

[Fife]

She felt the wind coming out of her sails, her anger running its course as she signed. It was frustratingly slow but he listened. He didn't interrupt her, even when he looked like he really wanted to.

"You were always someone Fife. And you are loved now, so very, very much."

That knocked the fight out of her. It made her ache.You were always someone. His words echoed inside of her.

She hadn't felt human before. Her memories of family and comfort and affection were distant, vague from time and skewed by the eyes of a child who had understood so very little. She had had no personality and no dreams. She had been strange, separate, other.

But she had still been someone. More importantly, she had been someone he saw when all others had overlooked her.

Fife came closer as he sat heavily, but not so close yet that he could reach her.

I was not strong. Not for you. Not when it was important. I… bent. Not to Lawrence, to you. She watched him, still angry and confused, but tired. Gods, she was so tired of carrying this. Why are you not angry?

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Why am I not angry?" he repeated slowly. He felt mentally exhausted, but the question could have troubled him at the best of times.

"Because...because you have explained why you did what you did. And it's hurting you. You're suffering from the mistakes you made with Empathy too. I can see why you made those decisions. I'm upset that you couldn't face me the way I was, but I understand.

"Fife, we look out for one another. In the end, you got me out of there. I wasn't there for you then, but I am now. I'm not angry at you. I'm not going to shout at you."

He was certain that there would come a time when they were angry at one another again. That much of their dynamic and personality was clear. It would probably be something far smaller in scale and impact than this and probably fixed by angry sex again.

Raigryn smiled.

"I almost wish this could be made better by a shouting match and.." eyes trailed off towards the bedroom. She knew what had happened after their last fight. "This isn't one of those times."

He was all over the place with his responses. She might not have drawn the anger out of him, but she had succeeded in knocking him off-kilter and preventing him from being endlessly, irritatingly calm.

 

[Fife]

She listened. Fife was not well-adjusted and her expectations from others were skewed. Raigryn was far from normal, but he had had a normal home life. He was socially and emotionally strong and sound in ways she'd been stunted from the start.

And now that her tempers were beginning to wash out, she remembered that. His patience was frustrating, but only because she thought she needed -- no, deserved his anger. He understood her, admitting that it upset him, but he wasn't angry. Fife stood quietly, her eyes trailing away as she tried to understand him in turn.

She smiled and laughed as she wiped the tears from her face with the heel of her palm, but her amusement only lingered briefly.

I am sorry. She took a step closer. I am very sorry. Fife came closer, finally stepping within his reach. I will not leave you alone again. I will take care of you.

He didn't want to be angry at her, but Fife needed this. She needed to apologize, to be able to make amends. She craved recompense like she craved a schedule -- something to measure herself by.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"And I will take care of you, always," he replied, he reached out to place both hands on her hips. He would have her hands, but that would have robbed her of speech.

Even sitting, she barely stood above him. Raigryn let out a stuttered sigh. He hadn't know quite what was eating her up inside, but that had been like riding a storm to the end.

"Apology accepted, but you're going to have some really boring meditation lessons to make up for it all now," he added, his voice swerving between the edge of laughter and crying.

 

[Fife]

Always. That was a word she liked to hear. Fife shivered as his hands settled on her hips. Much smaller hands rested on his shoulders, the fingers of one adjusting his hair from his brow and gently brushing down his neck. The spots were gone, but not yet forgotten. She'd never forget it.

She nodded and smiled.

I practiced. Lots of practice. Made my mind ready for an Empath. Easing out a deep breath, she let go of some of the tension in her shoulders with it. In doing so, she felt the well of emotions she had been trying to subdue for far too long. Her throat felt thick and she breathed carefully.

I missed you. Frightening. Difficult. I did not know when I would see you again. It felt so long.

She came closer. He was still tall enough that she did not really look down at him. The back of her fingers brushed against his beard and her eyes traveled across his features before settling on his eyes. Deep and rich as polished walnut, but just as warm when the morning sun struck them just right. It felt like they saw through her to the very essence of who and what she was. He saw her, and she let him.

Can I kiss you? She didn't have to ask, but she wanted to.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

It had, and to had not, felt like a long time for him. Most of the time he was spared having enough awareness to be frightened. It had come in waves. He could recall a few moments of panic. He didn't need to go into such detail right now.

"I missed you too, it must have felt like so long for you. Of course you can kiss me," he said.

His hands stayed where they were, but the slightest curl of his fingertips encouraged her forwards.

A lot of pieces had fallen into place now. The guilt she felt that had kept them apart. It must have felt like betraying her own choices when she had woken up this morning.

 

[Fife]

Fife cupped his face and leaned down to kiss him. Tenderly, apologetically. Her eyes closed and she sighed against his lips before resting her forehead against his. She remained there, silently pressed against him. She pushed all the hurt and anger aside. It was finished now; she could let go. Or try to.

Leaning back at last, the corners of her mouth tugged up into a small grin.

We are okay? An earnest question. You want to be alone? I can go for a walk. You can nap.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

We are okay, he signed back. The firm gestures an emphasis in response to the question.

"No, stay," he said quietly.

"If you go I won't sleep. I will start to fuss and imagine that we are not okay until I am convinced it is the truth. It's not only misusing empathy that can make your own feelings hard to trust."

 

[Fife]

She smiled. Raigryn, for being very independent and socially adept, could be a worrywart. Thankfully, she found his clinginess rather endearing. She liked being needed, liked being his reassurance.

And reassure him she could. Fife affectionately petted his face, smoothing away hairs and nodding. She was exhausted, so she imagined he must be, too. The way his voice had broken lingered in the back of her mind, the terrible colors of his guilt and anguish as fresh as the smell of smoke after a fire. They both needed to come back from those feelings.

In a very Raigryn-esque spirit of fixing things, Fife took his hand and tugged him gently toward the bedroom. A snuggle and a nap would do them good -- for their mutual hangovers as much as their hurt feelings. They could talk about tomorrow and the days after later. Right now, all she wanted to do was waste the first half of a day with him in her arms.

---

Romelia was very excited to see them again. As Fife dismounted from Socks in the courtyard, Raigryn doing the same from Dusty on the other side of the pony, they were greeted by an exuberant trill of laughter. Socks laid his ears back and raised his head, tugging his reins in Fife's sure grip. She paid the temperamental pony no mind and eagerly waved a greeting to Romelia.

Masselin was, of course, also there. Though no less excited in mood, he kept his response more subdued. While his mother came forward to kiss Fife's cheek, her brother took her pony's reins and stepped toward Raigryn to do the same for Dusty's.

"Welcome, my dears, welcome!" The bosom Romelia hugged Fife tightly before looping Fife's arm through hers, which gave the smaller woman no choice but to oblige. Looking satisfied, she waved toward her son.

"I'll take Fife into the parlor while you boys get the horses settled."

Now to this Fife had to object. She quickly looked to Raigryn and whistled his name to make sure he didn't ignore her.

I want to go, with horses, she told him. She might have been in trouble after their talk two days ago, but she wasn't going to miss horse time without a good fight. Fife wanted to see Masselin and his stables and his forge. She also didn't want to go into the parlor, whatever that was.

 

[Raigryn Vayd]

"Oh Romelia," Raigryn called out as sweetly as he could manage.

"Fife is always very keen to ensure her pony is nicely tucked up herself. I can of course accompany you for a little while before Fife joins us?"

A subtle glance at Fife said a lot. That she would owe him for this and that she wasn't escaping time with Romelia, merely delaying the inevitable.