he drank my past, like the finest of wines; raul

[Warlight]

She had never been a creature ruled by her emotions, or so she liked to think, but Raul's are hitting her as tangibly as a kick to the ribs. Warlight feels his hurt in a way she has never experienced before; it flows and weaves itself into her hurt, swirling together until they are indistinguishable.

She tries to swallow these unfamiliar feelings with little success. She is not prepared for the way his emotions bluster against her defenses, and it causes her to catch her breath. But he leans against her and she doesn't flinch from his touch. He pleads for clarity, and she can feel her determination begin to weaken. He begs for honesty, and the wound she had carelessly sealed cracks opens.

Warlight can't put into words the way continuously asking for his help had fractured the structure of her identity. How draining him of his disease suppression, just to make her body stop complaining for a few hours, had eventually become worse than living with her symptoms. She had been a burden, and although he had said she was one he was happy to carry, it wasn't what she wanted. She hadn't then seen what that her independence would cost her.

Cost her son.

"So he doesn't remember." She is relieved at this, it is a small grace she had not expected. The boy had been so young, they had struggled together for only a season or two before...

Her mind spins to formulate the sentences that will explain it all, but there is a dam blocking her honesty. She looks at Raul, lips parted yet wordless, and she knows that if she doesn't tear down her walls this may be the last conversation they ever have.  So, she swallows hard and releases her tight grip on every word, not sure if this is the right choice, but knowing she will always regret it if she walks away from him now.

"You should have been there..." She aims for acquisition but it falls flat, the grief she had felt pushing it's into in her voice.  "...in Silver Cove when I had him."

There would be no mysteries between them if they had been together that night, and their son would have had a different childhood. One without the grief and confusion which would haunt him for a lifetime. She shakes her head, unsure if she should lean in or pull away, so she stands at the crossroads with her cheeks stained black by her tears.

"I thought I was dying when I left you, I never thought I would have a healthy child."  She still didn't know how she had found the strength to stand back up that night.  "But I did, and then I couldn't defend him."

Her throat tightens as her body physically resists, trying to stop her from saying what she and the secret she had never meant to tell him. She had failed her most important challenge, she had died alone and she didn't even remember where. But her heart tells her this is the only way. He needed to see her failure to understand, and for once, she listens.

"I died trying to defend him. I was selfish to keep him, but I didn't know where to find you, where to find anyone..." Those days after the Plague had been nearly impossible for her to navigate in her collapsing state. "Until the end, then I found Solace. It was too late for me but I passed him to her in a dream, and then... "

She couldn't bring herself to say it again.