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Tears were a private thing, and though the well was deep, it eventually ran dry. The darkness here was usually the enemy, but for awhile An’Thaya embraced it, pulling the void around herself like a shroud and hiding her pain from the others. The past century or so had been one of incredible loss, of agony she could not share with others or vent away. Slowly but surely Tay was crumbling from the inside out, and she was terrified that someday soon everything would unravel.
Time was short, and Galain was in trouble, she didn’t have time for this. Hiding was the coward’s way, and the Amazon had never been that. Pulling herself together the redhead made her way along the wall, pondering the problem of infiltrating Samara’s Keep. On the way she fairly stumbled over the Black Dragon Emperor and she eyed him warily for a moment. “I suppose I owe you a thank you.”
He was aware she'd nearly walked into him but Callan continued to look out into the endless dark for a bit before giving a soft, amused snort.
"And why would you owe me anything?" Callan spoke almost absently as softly glowing topaz eyes turned to An'Thaya, the wife of his ally and friend while his sword hand lifted to scrub his jaw and rub his neck, exposing the D'Riel dragon emblazoned on the back of his hand and wrapped around his wrist until it disappeared in the shadows.
“Well, perhaps owe was the wrong word. I want to say it, despite the fact that you are an infuriating ass most of the time. You… well,” the Amazon shifted uncomfortably, “you apparently saved my life back there, after they took Galain.” Her mouth drew a hard line for a moment, restraining a lance of agony at the thought of her husband in the hands of Samara Mirage. “I know it wasn’t me you were worried about, but even still.”
She shrugged, “That isn’t what I’m most grateful for though… Callan, you stood by my father. I don’t pretend to know why, you barely knew him, but… you did, and honored him by carrying his body off the battlefield.” Her gaze focused on the D’Riel Dragon winding its way up his arm. “I can’t begin to tell you how much… how much my Father means to me… meant to me.” Eyes she thought could no longer produce them welled in tears and she dropped her head for a moment, shielding her features with a curtain of flaming curls. “Thank you.” Without looking up again she pushed past the Black Dragon and on down the stairs, heading back towards the tavern.
He'd been tempted, for just that breath of a moment to offer her his sympathy, offer her a warm touch and then she was gone. Callan watched the Amazon disappear into the darkness, then took a deep breath and rested his hand on the wall. Several long minutes were spent looking at the emerald-eyed black dragon that marked his skin. Why had he stood back to back with Derwin D'Riel? Why had he tried to fight the battle that didn't belong to him? Why? The answer was simple enough, Callan saw in Derwin a man of honor and courage. A man who could inspire others to follow his command, to follow him into battle and fight to the end for him...even the Black Emperor hadn't been immune to that charisma.
Brushing cobwebs out of her hair the Amazon looked up at Adarin and Bran as she entered the tavern, “I’m going to get some sleep. First thing in the morning we should talk about how we are going to get into Samara’s Keep without killing ourselves.” Pausing beside the Elen King she kissed his cheek, “I’ll be upstairs, Melda.” He nodded, relieved to hear that term of endearment come from Tay's lips. He would follow her eventually.
Forming a ball of handfire An'Thaya let it bobble up the staircase ahead of her, following the clear outline of Ghetsuhm’s boot prints on the way up. She sighed inwardly and followed them to their source, finding the other redhead curled up alone. She was silent for a moment; letting the light settle over the other woman and watching it play off the highlights of her hair. “I’m sorry Ghetsuhm… are you alright?”
Ghet sat up, slowly, while she tried to work out how she felt towards the other woman. So much pain, but was any of it really An'Thaya's fault? What finally got her, though, was the intense absurdity of the question. Dirty and tear-streaked and bruising up nicely, she looked up at An'Thaya and laughed shakily. "Oh yeah. Fine. Box of fluffies, me. But it's no more than I deserve, apparently." She shrugged, despair pushing at her mind. "Sorry."
The Amazon looked shocked for a moment, her face going completely blank, then she sighed and joined the other redhead on the floor. “Everyone is under a lot of stress,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around Ghet’s shoulders and kissing her temple, “it’s ok to fall apart. We are going to get Galain back; we are going to find Rhagi. Everything will be all right… it has to be. I’m sorry I lost it… it just… came as a shock, to say the least.” Soft fingers stroked the other woman’s face; “Let me heal that for you?”
Ghet sighed deeply and relaxed into An'Thaya's arms. "Um, no, actually, it's really not okay for me to fall apart." She took the other woman's hand away from her face and held it. "No, leave it. I'm not being a bitch; I think it might come in handy. There don't seem to be any bones broken. Lucky, I guess." She let the last of her anger go and hugged An'Thaya. "It's okay. It's nobody's fault."
That was the entire problem; there was no one to blame, not for the things that hurt in the long term. So everyone swallowed the pain, put on a smile, and moved on with his or her lives. “Alright, good… I mean that I didn’t break anything. Gods I’m tired… You should try getting some sleep too. Tomorrow, tomorrow we are getting our husband back, and killing Samara. I know it won’t be permanent, it never is with her, but it will feel good just trying.”
Samara. That was it. It was Samara's fault. Ghet nodded. "There's some stuff I need to think about, and then we need to talk about what we're going to do when we get there. But tomorrow will be soon enough. I've pissed her off in the past, it will be a distinct pleasure to do it again."
Tay managed to muster up a soft laugh as she simply made herself comfortable where she was. “That’s m’girl,” the Amazon murmured sleepily. “Night Ghet.”
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