YOUR FATE IS NOT YET SEALED.

Spartacus: Vengeance- S2E08 | Balance BONUS:

secure under the shade of trees, she prefers these places where she is closer to her first home than roaming around the empty roads. even when she knows this would be no place to stay, that this isn't the place to grow roots, that this is just another road stop before she'd continue on. all the valleys speak to her, a language she thought she couldn't hear anymore when she escaped from the underground and fought her way back out. she thought this connection would be dead for good, but once she was travelling through the forests and planes she could find it slowly came back to life. certainly not the way it used to be yet, not the easy extension from her body's movement like she could just fade or be peeled from the greenery and its lush tapestry, but she could sense it slowly coming back to her in the inner most part of her. how to bring it to the tips of her fingertips, to make it dance with her again? how to be revived beyond revival, not clammy and cold where her throat is soft and thin or where the skin is a bronze shadow over her bones. how to be one with what surrounds her again - that's the question of questions.

she is pondering the issue as she sits in the grass, the day slowly coming to its end and its lights a bleak spec of gray amidst the thick carpet of trees above her head, when she finds that she is not alone. other nymphs have passed her by, looked at her strangely or with keen interest ( they are curious by nature ) but she can feel them in her periphery before they are visible in the scenery. this is different though, this is someone human and yet not, someone who reminds her of those touched by either divinity or anything that lies beyond mortal dealings. she turns her head towards the noise then, seeing a woman much taller than her and of more impressive stature than most of the workers she has seen underground as well. this woman is fiercely alive though - and she seems to be a witch.

" ah, a mind reader is what you are? clairvoyant and a witch, i haven't met too many of your kind. the last one to bewitch me folded me into him, " she replies to the strange remark, though not so strange if the woman is a witch after all. god knows what she can do, possibly more than eurydice ever could, and that is remarkable in itself. pulling her legs under her, she changes into a crouch and watches on as the woman bustles around the forest with evident awareness of her surroundings. how interesting, to see someone so at home in their skin and so present in their place in this world. " i always wonder if it is palpable on me - the one or the other. if i am not my own person. do you know how it feels like? you sound like you do. "

" not clairvoyant, no, " she answers, glancing sidelong at eurydice as she bends and tests the leaves of a chickweed grove at her feet before beginning her harvest. " simply observant, or so I like to think after all these years. you seem troubled. and rarely does one linger this close to the mouth of the underworld without reason. " she pauses, expelling a breath that sounds half a laugh, as though lightly scoffing at her own words. " I am the exception, of course, but whatever wisdom I possess I fear has great limits. "

dialogue prompts from the reformatory by tananarive due.

why'd you do a fool thing like that?

don't run barefoot.

school is holier than church.

everyone knowing your name isn't always a blessing.

i can speak for myself.

what's got into you?

you little shit.

you pushed me first.

what would ____ have done?

not all stories are suited for the ears of children.

you can only trust explosive secrets with three people, maybe four.

we should have run away when we had the chance.

you talk too damn much.

we'll get there faster if we cut through the woods.

sometimes life throws you a curveball, and you end up in places you never expected.

are the stories true?

i've never seen a more superstitious place.

there's no such thing as ghosts. that's an absolute fact.

evil is never plain to the eye.

stop fretting. just makes it worse.

sometimes the only justice is a hot meal and a bed to sleep in.

you know how to cook?

it could've been last week, for how well i remember it.

you think i don't know an evil eye when i see one?

if you're dead, stay dead.

you're scared of your shadow. always jumping.

who is it? who locked the door?

none of you can take a joke.

you seem more tired than usual.

you can talk sense when you want to.

men do evil every day and call it 'doing their job'.

i've heard all i can stand.

this is only a season, and it will pass. no matter what happens.

you don't bother me, i won't bother you.

you talk too damn much.

say you're sorry. put it behind you.

there's more ahead for you than this.

this isn't everything. there's more than this.

stories are dangerous.

if i needed you to, you'd cover for me?

no one stays nice. best to remember it.

go on. ask me what i know.

i wish i could say i had good news.

get a good cry out if you want.

you're not as smart about the world as you think you are.

no good talk starts at a bar.

mama used to say that unaired feelings ate you up inside.

i'm sorry. i've got no right to blame you.

don't tell your business on the phone.

hush that damn foolishness.

don't you be sick in my truck.

sometimes the worst thing happens. usually, in fact.

how do you believe in god, with all the bad things?

this whole world is a lie, the bad things and the good things.

you've got an answer for everything, don't you?

it's like you can see every thought in my head.

what did i ever do to you?

don't talk about my parents.

don't talk like you know anything about me.

everybody won't see. but you might.

telling the truth always breaks the peace.

one thing i've learned: everything seems fine, until it ain't. and then we come to see it wasn't ever fine.

i was never allowed to have nicknames.

____ made me feel like i mattered.

be strong. like _____. can you do that?

it'll be alright, as long as you tell the truth.

all a man has in the world is his name. your name outlives you.

i tried to tell you, didn't i?

you're so dumb. not the dumbest i've ever seen, but pretty damn close.

you don't get to ask about ____.

if you see me run, follow behind. no matter what.

please let me do something to help.

they wear you down one wrong at a time.

we should use a code to talk about it.

never give up a chance to laugh.

i'm beyond your help.

being dead isn't so bad.

you thought i didn't know?

does anyone remember you?

you need me, just like i need you.

constant worry steals everything from you.

i don't like strangers in my house.

you need a place to stay, and i have a spare room.

sometimes we say a thing to try to believe it.

i don't know what game you're playing, but it's a dangerous one.

the secret to war is the sacrifices friends make for each other.

we don't all sit around in a clubhouse. is that what you think?

let it out. but when you're done crying, we need to go over the plan.

wait a minute. just slow down.

we're no better than them.

some mistakes you don't come back from.

everything is a trick with you.

raven receives the drink and believes it an offer of gratefulness.    the captain will not know this,    but as her prized delivery  remains in this ship,    both misfortune and salvation will plague her: suffering and healing at once,    the princess possesses ties beyond humanity that she’s under oath not to disclose,    save it ruin her prospects of marriage,    but she refuses to let freya’s diligent work to ensure her own safety unreciprocated.    it had been a blur then,    when she extended herself downward by rope and lost one of her azure shawls to the wind.    but as secluded and gentle the royal creature seems,    she’s never one to stray from danger on behalf of another,    although it does embarrass her to know it was completely unnecessary.    write that down as another thing she doesn’t know: it’s what frustrates her the most about change,    not reigning the knowledge to forge her own destiny.    

" I suppose I, too, would classify a ship as a temple, although admittedly for different reasons. I do not mean to sound ... perhaps sacrilegious to you, I assure you, but I worship nothing with quite so much reverence as the sea and the maverick here – " she reaches a hand back to run affectionately along a beam in her ship's hull, a distant and fond smile curing the edges her of her mouth. " – she is the closest thing to a church possible on these waves. my own floating chapel, you could say. " her gaze returns to the princess then, tilting just the slightest centimeter to the side as she observes, curious, her gaze slightly soft across the distance between them.

had this woman been locked even further away from the world than they'd kept freya herself, apart from anything real?

" you are kind, highness. even now, I am no expert. I fear I learn more about it every day. I was not raised to this, but only the sea first spoke to my heart. so I keep learning. " the captain sips from her own tea, studying her brother's affianced as carefully as the other woman watches her, although nothing about her gaze is harsh or judgmental. if anything, she sees a great deal of herself in raven – and to that end, feels uncomfortably like she's delivering the princess in chains. at the very least, she knows her brother is nothing like her own late spouse. " you're a curious one, aren't you? that's good, especially in a world that doesn't often encourage it in the fairer sex. studied is one word, I suppose, though I'm certain they would take offense to the term. the sirens of the deep are as intelligent as we, you see, but ... more dangerous, at least on their own without cannons and blade to aid them. they eat hearts. preferably men, but we'll do, in a pinch. be cautious, although generally speaking, my crew and guests are granted safe passage. " she smiles again over the rim of her teacup, warm, more comforting than anything. " as for storms, I have had to weather many, as have my crew. they're common, but that does not make them less dangerous. I do mean it when I tell you that you did well. you will find, I think, that I rarely say anything not in earnest. "

the latest of his endeavours was hitting zoro in the shoulder to at least get up and eat something, but zoro refuses to move from his spot on the wooden stool next to the cot, ignoring everything while he either naps or stares down at freya's unconscious body and her smooth face. sanji's come down to force some food onto him, which zoro wolfed down before handing back the plate, and usopp and luffy have checked in as well so they could tell freya's crew. even nami came around, half as mad as he expected her to be. it reminds zoro again, that he has good friends, and that he should be a good friend as well. it's the last thought he has before he's nodding off himself, all the adrenaline and energy finally leaving his body for good after tony's promised him freya just needed a day or two to rest before she'd be around again - and that the going merry isn't going anywhere until they made sure their patient is fine to leave for her own ship again.

steeling herself against the pain, she grits her teeth briefly as she cranes her neck forward, just enough to allow him to tilt water into her mouth. it isn't until it washes over her tongue that she realizes how thirsty she truly is, but she hadn't the energy – nor the range of motion – to chase the cup when it tilts away again. with a soft sigh, she tilts her head back into the pillow behind her. somehow, she manages not to wince when she chuckles hoarsely in response. ever the dry wit, her zoro. and whatever would she do without that in her life, to cheer her?

" do not be indecorous just because I am weakened, zoro. I am still a privateer, not a pirate. you have not pulled me so far yet as to compel me to turn in my commission. " her good-natured smile turns to a wince for a couple of beats as she shifts such that it sends a shiver of pain up her spine, until she manages to relax again. they both know it is no moral compunction that keeps her from calling herself a pirate. rather, her privateer commission comes from her father, some remaining admission of the peril of his poor choices, evidence of his willingness to practically sell his children in service of his aims, despite any love he may or may not otherwise have for them. it was in bits and pieces that she's shared it with him, first until she knew she could trust, then because she could only handle a step of her pain at a time.

a quick trip to the bookstore, to find one of those niche guides on fusion cuisine she knows she'd never get to use for the bear but she wanted to have at home. having perused to the internet last night, for hours, to read reviews on several cookbooks and then on chef biographies and then on the more obscure titles: the subgenre of spirituality and food for one, some array of vacation diaries for culinary tourism that veered into weirdly exploitive sensationalism, guides on fictional cuisine being tried in real life to varying success among other things. it has taken her some time to get into a direction that felt right, that managed to soothe itch in her brain to make something new for herself ( a new dish entirely or the variation of an old recipe ) and make her finally go to sleep before her alarm would wake her on her day off not at five in the morning, but nine nonetheless. she bundled up for the chicago cold, snowy and frozen, and still is mostly wrapped in her layers when she's in front of the shelves and looking for the book she wants - she jotted down a few, but one specific caught her eye last night and is supposed to be in stock here. why can't she find it?

standing there for a few minutes now, slowly feeling like she's losing her mind, syd's neck is craned so far back that she almost jumps when something collides with it, right in the moment she found the book she's been looking for. a curse under her breath, definitely not feeling like she's just made contact with a ghost, the kickstart of her heart is relieved when she can at least see an arm go past her head and pull out the exact one she wanted all along, making her feel like the intruder is either a book-seller with a sixth sense for their customers or someone who's got a telepathic link to her mind ( she'd attest no one does, not even goddamn richie who likes to proclaim so to piss her off. ) when the book gets held before her, sydney finally turns her head to the side to see who it is, only to find ezra smiling back at her in a sheepish manner, a way she'd probably would too if she were a few inches taller and could read his mind like he could read hers. " how did you know? oh my god, please tell me you didn't, like, scan my mind or something. but hey, thanks, " taking the book from him she holds it between them. " i wouldn't have reached that anyway. "

a warmth fills his chest that, for a brief moment, makes him feel less alone.

ezra knows he's quiet for his size, but he still doesn't really mean to sneak up on her or alarm her. he can feel his own gaze turn soft and apologetic when she briefly tenses as he reaches over her shoulder to pluck the book off the shelf above her. without yet a verbal greeting, he offers her the book, exhaling quietly in some small relief when she confirms it's the correct one. if he can be little else, at least he can be observant. and if he can use that to assist the people he likes, admires, then all the better. once the book is out of his hands, he leans his palm against the shelf beside her, balancing some of his weight on it, a book of his own tucked under his other arm.