As her sobs fade and she settles into this renewed life, full of the emotions she’s been without, Mazikeen’s heart aches as she realizes the way this corner of the world has been altered for comfort. The air should be cold but Firion’s body next to her is keeping away the chill, and he shifts his weight so they are pressed side-by-side, and even the ground beneath them softens. She cannot remember the last time she’s seen magic used for something so kind. Each breath is a little less shaky than the last, and she continues to relax by degrees, the tension in her body easing more and more. It returns just for a moment when his lips brush against her skin, that particular comforting action somehow unexpected and it brings with it a chaotic storm of those too-vivid emotions.
There is surprise that he wants to touch her at all, happiness, confusion over why it feels different than she remembers (not yet realizing how she is no longer a patchwork of scar tissue), and then darker things churning with them that almost inspire her to flinch away.
But she leans further into Firion instead because the repulsion and the guilt and whatever else is in the mess are not inspired by him. And even though she fears this is the first, and last, nice moment they share together - the last time he’ll want to touch her - she sinks further into how nice it feels and tries not to think about when it will end.
His response to her apologies brings a small smile to the corner of Mazikeen’s mouth where her head rests on the magically softened ground. He’s wrong, of course - she owes him so many of them. And maybe he does owe her some as well but they are fewer than he seems to think. As she watches Firion’s shadows climb over them, to distract herself from how her heart begins to race again at the sight of them (not the same darkness, not the same purpose, not even the same sensation) she replies back quietly with a small trace of humour. “How about this - I won’t apologize for the past if you don’t either.” She tells him, and even though there was a lightness to the words she needs to close her eyes because her guilt is making the tears swim again. This is a promise she won’t be able to keep. She’s going to want to say those words so often. To him, to his brother and mom, to so many.
Firion’s question does not require any thought to answer. “I really am.” If it were a lie she thinks it would be carried on a stronger voice but it is soft like the sound of the nearby waves. An acceptance of this truth - no matter whether it will cause her pain in the future. Right now, she can repay Firion for being here by at least being honest with him.
And while she wishes he knew that without asking, after all the kindness he has and is showing her, she feels a similar doubt rise up in her own mind. So because all of her defences are decimated and she cannot find a reason not to, Mazikeen follows her truth with a whispered question of her own “Do you still think there's plenty to stay for?” Memories of their last conversation have a different clarity to them without the smoke and flames obscuring her reactions. She doesn’t know if it is selfish to want him to stay, to still think she is real and worth something even as low as she feels right now. Not yet even returned to the fighter he's known.
She just knows she’s lived without hope for so long, had it torn right out of her, but she feels it spark inside of her chest again here with Firion.
@firion