TW: Blood, discussions of death
The moment that the portal crumbled behind her, Roche felt the weight of her exhaustion. She turned away from Tigris, fighting the weariness that had sunken into her bones. It was a struggle not to crumple to the ground and simply lie there.
"Are you alright?" Tigris asked gently as Roche sucked in a few breaths while easing the queen to the ground. She nodded tightly.
"I just need a second," she muttered, glancing around the clearing. She wished she could summon some light to get a good look at their surroundings, but she needed to save her strength to heal Tigris.
She had to heal her queen. The notion of any other outcome filled Roche with jittery energy that made her want to scratch her skin off. The thought of losing Tigris... it was unthinkable.
"Well, it's good that we have plenty of time," Tigris said brightly. Roche turned back around, lifting her brows when she saw the queen sprawled out on the ground, somehow looking perfectly at ease despite the ragged wound in her side. Roche's heart stuttered in her chest when she noticed fireflies floating lazily around the queen's face, settling around her multicoloured hair like a crown. The light stretched down Tigris' pale cheeks, highlighting the blood and dirt staining the queen's skin. Tigris reclined back, her green eyes glowing like a cat's. She patted the grass beside her, startling a few fireflies.
"Come. Sit." Tigris murmured. Roche huffed slightly, the muscles of her legs aching longingly in response.
"I shouldn't," Roche replied tightly, scanning the darkened trees around them. "I need to secure the perimeter. And I need to prepare to do the enchantment. And-"
"Roche," a sterner quality entered the queen's voice, "You look dead on your feet. Sit down."
Roche couldn't find it within herself to deny Tigris. Not when the queen peered up at her with wide, pleading eyes that sparkled in the darkness like a torch. Roche glanced at her, her resolve weakening as the playful twinkle of Tigris' eyes faded into something unsure and hesitant, like she thought Roche would disagree.
Like Roche would leave her to die alone, just as Finn had said.
A lump formed in Roche's throat. She stepped closer, hyperaware of the crunch of fresh grass under her feet and the fireflies that flitted around her as she neared the queen. She leaned Tigris against a tree before stiffly lowering herself to the ground. Cool mud sank into the bottom of her gown, a stark contrast to the soft warmth bleeding from Tigris' side.
"How long until Circe gets here?" Tigris asked quietly, her breath coming in a puff of warmth that caressed Roche's cheek. Roche hoped the darkness hid the sudden flush of her cheeks.
"I'm not sure," she answered, hushed as she stretched her mind out, "They're not replying. I think they're saving their strength."
Tigris hummed in reply, staring out at the clearing. Roche followed her gaze, feeling the knots of tension loosening from her shoulders as she peered out at the moonlit grass. Up above, the clouds parted to reveal tiny pinpricks of light.
"Do you ever think of her?" Tigris asked after a moment.
Roche blinked at the abrupt break in the silence. "Who?"
"Your lover," Tigris hesitated before adding, "Medea."
Roche waited for the name to trigger a rush of devastation or an overwhelming cloud of grief that would make it difficult to think. Instead, she only felt a bittersweet ache in her chest as the memory of beautiful grey eyes filled her mind. She gazed at the moonbeams and flickering fireflies, her mind drifting to Medea's grove.
YOU ARE READING
The Way We Fall
Fantasy(Inspired by the hit BBC show Merlin) One thousand years have passed since humanity fell. From its ashes, the Faultless Kingdom rose. For many centuries, it was prosperous. Then the king enacted a new law: inkblood is a crime punishable by death. Ro...
