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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    say goodnight and go, varick
    #1
    Leliana and Isilya had assured her that Crowns would be fine, even if he didn’t seem well now. They had promised and she trusted them, but her heart aches to see him laying so pitifully in their den. His fever refuses to break despite how often she guides him to the stream to soak for a while. Even now, as he naps, he wimpers and groans in his sleep. Sabbath can feel the tears brimming in her wild green eyes but she chokes them back once more. Now is not the time to cry.

    She presses a whisper of a kiss to his temple and then she leaves their quiet corner of the jungle. The shoreline isn’t too far from here, she thinks. Just a quick trip there and back. The serpent woman rushes between the trees until she finds the water’s edge, where she calls for him.

    Varick, please. It’s Crowns,” she pleads, her voice tired and desperate.

    The magicians of Tephra are wise, she knows, but they do not share in her pain so intimately. They can’t quite know how lost and helpless she feels as the small boy tosses and turns in his fitful slumber. Varick, however, would know the tempest raging in her heart. And when he emerges from the waves, she surprises herself at the way she collapses against his chest so easily. All the tears she had bitten back before come spilling down her face now as she sobs into his frost-covered scales.

    He’s sick, Varick. He keeps running a fever and nothing helps,” she explains, each word weighed down with her sorrow. “I don’t know what to do. Just.. Stay with me. Until I know he’s alright.

    And then she steps back from him, her body half turned in the direction of her den. She feels naked as she stands there, unguarded by her rage with nothing but that soft heart to show. How long has it been since she let down those walls for even a second? It had taken a lifetime to build them but she tore them to pieces in a heartbeat in her desperation to help her child.
    may my enemies live long                                  so they can see me prosper.
    sabbath
    @[Varick]
    #2
    so make your siren's call and sing all you want, I will not hear what you have to say --
    He gave Sabbath space, as much as he didn’t always want to. He was drawn to her in a way that he could not explain, even when she snapped at him, both literally and figuratively. She seemed like she was warming up to him slightly the more he proved that he had no intention of abandoning Crowns, but sometimes he thinks that was simply a trick of his imagination.

    Wishful thinking and all that.

    Despite her sharp tongue and displeased stares, he had no intention of leaving Tephra. He stayed for Crowns, of course, but he would not even try to deny that he also stayed for her. True to his word, he has not used any of his powers on her again, even if it meant never touching her – no matter how badly he wanted to.

    When he did take to the waters, he did not venture far. It’s why even beneath the waves, he can hear her, distant and muffled though her voice was. Just the fact that she is calling for him at all is enough to make his blood run cold, every worst-case scenario rushing through his mind. He knew she would only call for him like that is if something happened to Crowns.

    He emerges from the waves, shifting from his kelpie form with ease as he does, and he does not bother to shake the water from his mane. She is pressing into him before he has the chance to register what is happening, and there is a brief moment that his body goes rigid. Seawater drips from the bright blue of his mane and down her neck, and the warmth of her tears melts away the frost from his scales.

    There is a moment where his heart seems to lurch inside of his chest, and he reaches down, gently touching his lips to the top of her head. He had always wondered what it would be like for her to let him touch her without hypnosis, and though he is inwardly thrilled at the warmth of her pressed into the coolness of him, he is shaken from his thoughts by what she says.

    “What did your mother say?” He asks her, knowing that she would have taken him to Leliana first thing. He is careful to keep the panic from his voice, locking away his worry as he slowly pulls her closer (still half expecting her to lash out suddenly). “He’s going to be okay, Sabbath,” he says quietly, but when she steps back, he knows she will see the concern etched so clearly into every line of his face. “He’s strong, even for a little boy,” he tells her with a half-hearted smile, stepping alongside her when she goes to move towards the den where Crowns sleeps.
    VARICK


    @[Sabbath]
    #3
    She grows less annoyed by Varick’s intrusions into her den each day. Lately, she hadn’t even tried to spit in his face. Of course, she still tried to pick out the softest point in his scales, but she is less driven in her efforts. Sabbath hasn’t tried to amuse herself with thoughts of being kind to him, but she does appreciate the need he fulfills in their child’s life. His usefulness is just enough for her to spare him the full force of her wrath.

    She doesn’t recoil and snarl when he touches her. In fact, she hardly seems to notice the gesture at all. Sabbath is momentarily surprised that he knows her well enough to assume she’d gone to her own mother when Crowns first fell ill. Her sage green eyes reconsider him momentarily before she answers, “She doesn’t know what’s causing it. She only knows he isn’t getting worse.

    Her voice is hardly distinguishable over the gentle hush of the waves near them. In her grief, she is pliable enough to curl against him once more as he pulls her close. Every thought is so consumed by her concern that there is no room for her to be repulsed by the feeling of his scales meeting hers in the delicate embrace.

    I just can’t watch him suffer,” she explains as fresh tears trail down her face. Together, they walk the worn little path toward her den, and she pauses before rounding the corner to step inside. There is always some strangling fear that he will not be as she left him. But there he is, curled into a little ball as he whimpers and dreams restlessly. Sabbath lowers her head to press a kiss to his temple.

    Crowns, your father’s come to see you.

    The colt rolls over and blinks open his ocean blue eyes. Groggy from sleep and sickness, he stares at them both for a while before he staggers up. His legs wobble as they did when he was a newborn, but he stumbles toward Varick once more. Crowns sighs with relief as he curls to Varick’s chest and feels the chill of frost meeting his skin. Slowly, Sabbath releases the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in.
    may my enemies live long                                  so they can see me prosper.
    sabbath
    @[Varick]
    #4
    so make your siren's call and sing all you want, I will not hear what you have to say --
    He resists the urge to reach over and brush the fresh tears from Sabbath’s face, for he already knows that he is pushing the limits of what she will tolerate from him. Instead, he follows alongside her in silence, his brow knitting into a frown when she says that not even Leliana is sure what’s wrong with Crowns. He supposes if he is not getting worse, that is a good enough sign, but it is not altogether reassuring.

    As they draw nearer to the den, his chest begins to tighten, afraid of what he is about to see. When his gaze settles on Crowns – appearing so small in sickness – he is at once relieved and devastated. His jaw clenches to ward off the sudden rush of emotion that he can feel rising in his throat, and he lowers his head to draw his son into his chest.

    His frosted scales almost immediately melt against the boy’s fevered body, and he presses a cool touch to his forehead. “How long have you been sick?” He says quietly into the top Crowns’s head and then drags his nose down the length of his neck, trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle that he has. He has never minded the powers that he had been born with, but at this moment, they feel utterly useless.

    He would rather be able to heal than hypnotize.
    He wishes he had been born with an ounce of something that would help his son, rather than the kelpie trickery he was granted.

    His eyes lift to catch Sabbath’s, already knowing that hers will mirror the same worry that reflects from his. Yet even despite it, his lips turn into a subtle smile. He still knew that Sabbath could have raised their son without him, and it was only by her blessing that he was allowed here at all.
    VARICK


    @[Sabbath]
    #5
    Sabbath watches them both closely, monitoring Crowns for any sign of him getting better or worse. He seems content to be curled so sweetly to the chill of Varick’s scales. The colt lifts his head when his father speaks and his brow furrows as he tries to remember the passage of time. She steps closer to the pair but resists the urge to press tight to their sides.

    A little over two days now,” she answers, as she has counted every hour since he last seemed well. A part of her is ashamed for not finding Varick sooner. Sabbath told herself she was afraid to leave their child’s side, but she knows it was also a matter of pride and reluctance to become so vulnerable. Today has cemented their fates - entwined, no matter how long or how hard she fought it.

    He went to sleep just fine, and when I woke up, he was burning hot.

    The faultlines of her heart crack and split open. None of her other children had been so sick, but she has learned to fear losing them. Sabbath lost weeks of sleep over watching Prayer die and having her firstborn return to her has done so little to soothe the terror. Now, she stands at the precipice of that horror once more, but she is not alone in the awful dark.

    Her wild green eyes find Varick’s and she sees the same concern swimming in the ocean blue of his gaze. Yet, he finds the strength to smile, however frail the expression may be. She considers asking what he could possibly find to be joyful over, but she decides not to disturb Crowns. Then she notices the faintest hint of a grin forming in the corners of her lips.

    Perhaps there is some small comfort to be drawn from the three of them being together.
    may my enemies live long                                  so they can see me prosper.
    sabbath
    @[Varick]




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