#bitterotter

It had been several weeks now since the trio had left the relative safety and comfort of Vesuvia behind, and headed out into the wilderness in search of Lucio- or Montag, as Morga insisted on calling him. Meleena had been exceedingly anxious about the journey, regardless of how necessary it may be- this was the first time, in as long as she could recall, that she had ever left Vesuvia. As much as she knew the importance of the task ahead of them, a pang of melancholy pierced her chest as they had left Vesuvia, the silhouette of the city framed against the rising sun. What followed had been many weeks of hard and relatively silent travel. The only small comfort that she found along the journey had been the third member of their party- namely the mountainous and intimidating form of Muriel, who often rode beside her. She found herself attempting to break the silence of their journey by making conversation as much as she could with him, and while his responses were often short and rather blunt, she found herself developing a tentative kinship with the man. She could even swear that on more than one occasion, she had almost pulled a smile from his often dour expression, before he seemed to remember himself and pull back again. 

As the days passed, she found herself becoming more and more attached to the man at her side- with his dry humour, his diffident personality and his surprising gentleness. In turn, he seemed to be gradually more drawn to her, although she was unsure whether it was simply wishful thinking on her part. When the trio would stop for breaks- which was far too infrequently for her liking- she often found herself slipping deep into conversation with him, as if the rest in front of a campfire was all it took for him to start to open up to her. There were some topics that he refused to mention, such as the heavy chains and shackles he insisted on wearing. On the one occasion she had asked, he had quickly clammed up and refused to say anything more. Any attempt beyond that had been met with silence and a pleading look- even when she caught him rubbing wearily at his neck, as if the weight of such a burden weighed him down far beyond anything he’d ever admit out loud. She wouldn’t pry further, though- not until he was ready to tell her himself. In those moments by the campfire, the two of them bathed in a warm and gentle light, it was almost like the outside world faded away for a moment, and only the two of them existed in a world of their own. In that soft glow, she thought he looked almost angelic- a man, no different than any other, and yet standing above and beyond any other she had known. She would watch his hands as he stoked the fire, massive and achingly gentle, and wonder what they would feel like in her own. She would listen to his voice, as deep and rough as gravel and yet with a tenderness all its own, and imagine it speaking her name in the early morning rays of sun. Most of all she would look into his eyes as he spoke, those eyes that held so much suffering and pain and somehow also a tentative hope for the future, and dream of those eyes seeing nothing but her.

It wasn’t until their arrival at Tarske Forest that she truly understood what she was feeling. After the confrontation with Lucio, seeing what the former Count of Vesuvia had become, and losing the fight with Vulgora, she sat in silence with Muriel around the campfire, the bitter sting of defeat still sitting on her tongue. She had already insisted on using healing magic to cure Muriel’s injuries, minor as they may have been, and he sat quietly as she did so, his eyes never leaving hers.

“... Why are you doing this? What do you gain from being nice to me?” Muriel’s voice suddenly cut through the silence, the question catching her off guard. She looked at him for a moment, confusion etched across her features.

“You know what I am. You know what I’ve done, the people I’ve hurt, the pain I’ve caused. Why would you still act like this to me? I don’t deserve your kindness, not after any of this.”

She paused in her actions momentarily, the severity of his own tone stunning her for a moment. She couldn’t help but feel a stirring in her own memory, like a distant dream, of similar feelings she once held towards herself. She took a deep breath, before gently placing her hand in his and looking him straight in the eye.

“If you think anything you’ve told me about who you used to be has intimidated me, or made me think any less of you, you’re wrong.” She spoke softly yet sternly, with a conviction to her voice that made even Morga cast a quick glance her way. 

“You are not a monster to me, Muriel. You have lived a harder life than most could even dream of. You did whatever you had to do to survive. I would never, and will never, believe you to be a monster for what you did. You are one of the sweetest, kindest and most gentle people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. You would never hurt me, or Asra, or anyone- not even Lucio, despite all he’s done, because you are a good person. I’ll say it over and over again until you start to believe it, because it’s true. At your core, you are a good person. You deserve the world, and if I can offer you even the tiniest fraction of comfort then I will, because you deserve it. Do you understand me?” Her eyes searched his face, her hand gently squeezing his. She had surprised herself somewhat with those words, even though she knew they were true. As his face turned a brilliant shade of red, he muttered a few words to himself and quickly averted his gaze. She couldn’t help but let a shy smile cross her features, finally allowing the warm feeling in her chest to spread through her whole being.

------------- Three Weeks Later -------------------

This training session wasn’t supposed to go like this.

It was just a small scratch, a minor miscalculation in his swing, that had caused the long wooden staff he held to hit her squarely in the chest. She had fallen backwards with a heavy-sounding thud, coughing a little as the blow had winded her. Morga had seemed impressed with the swing, but as she staggered back to her feet, Muriel’s features had been frozen in a look of horror. Meleena reached out a hand to him, about to speak and reassure him she was fine, before he had bolted away from them, leaving a very concerned Inanna and a grumbling Morga behind him.

“... Go after him. He won’t listen to me, but he’ll listen to you. Persuade him to see sense. He can’t run from his past forever.” Morga gruffly barked to the stunned woman beside her, who was already starting to look out over the Steppe for clues as to where he’d fled.

“MURIEL! WHERE ARE YOU?” She called out to him again. It had been a long time since darkness had fallen over the Steppe, and concern was rapidly mounting in her chest. The small ball of light she had conjured in her hand barely seemed to make a dent in the darkness around her, and she knew that the likelihood of finding him was shrinking by the second. A sudden bark to her left made her spin around, panic clawing at her throat, before the familiar visage of Inanna calmed her rapidly fluttering heart.

“Oh, thank goodness. Inanna, do you know where he is? Can you take me to him?” She spoke, the anxious edge clearly making itself known in the tone of her voice. Inanna gave another sharp bark, before taking off running. Meleena quickly followed the loyal wolf, her eyes keeping a careful watch on their surroundings as they headed further and further away from the dunes where they had made camp.

Finally, after what had felt like hours of sprinting across the hills of the Steppe, they reached the bank of a small river. Sat there, his knees tucked up against his chest and shoulders shaking, was the man she loved. 

“Oh thank goodness! I’ve been looking everywhere for you, I’ve been so worried…” She breathed a sigh of relief, sinking to her knees next to him. 

His head raised slightly at the return of Inanna, before his gruff- and slightly choked- voice spoke.

“Go away. I don’t want to see you. You shouldn’t be anywhere near me. I hurt you, I-”

She felt the words hit her hard in the chest, hard enough that a soft gasp escaped her. 

“Muriel. Look at me.” She gently reached out her hand and placed it on his shoulder, while her free hand came to rest on Inanna’s fur.

“You didn’t hurt me, Muriel. Stunned me, yes, but you didn’t hurt me. I’m not going anywhere without you. Not now, not ever. I’d never leave you behind, and if I know anything about you, you don’t want me to go.” She spoke quietly, her voice brimming with tears barely being held back. He slowly lifted his head a fraction, laying his hand on top of hers, before letting out a shuddering breath as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Meleena, I’m so sorry, I never meant to- please don’t go.” He choked out, a wave of relief sweeping through him as she moved her free hand to cup his cheek, swiping away a few of the tears rolling across his scarred face. She took a deep breath, a soft smile working its way onto her face, before resting her forehead against his.

“Muriel, I’m not going anywhere without you. Never without you, you understand? I care about you far too much to let you go now.” Even through his tears, a charming blush still spread across his cheeks, and the ghost of a watery smile crossed his lips.

“... Thanks.” He breathed, closing his eyes for a moment and allowing the quiet gentleness to sweep across the pair of them. She allowed her eyes to slowly drift shut too, the feeling of his warmth against hers finally setting her at ease. As her eyes slowly drifted back open, she grinned to see his eyes fixed firmly on hers, before they widened in shock as his lips suddenly pressed against hers. The sudden moment of boldness caught him just as off-guard as her- he couldn’t even remember leaning in. The kiss ended almost as suddenly as it had begun, a bright red blush crossing both of their features. The two stuttered and mumbled for a moment, both refusing to meet the other’s eye. Inanna simply sat there, wagging her tail and trying to nudge the two closer together again. 

“So, um…” Meleena squeaked, before clearing her throat and trying again. “You, uh… You kissed me. Why would you, um, do that…?” She finally looked up and met his eye again, her hand never moving from his.

“W-well, um, i-it was an accident!” Muriel stuttered, the blush only deepening as she spoke. “But, uh… I-it wasn’t, uh… bad.” At this he seemed to clam up again, though his eyes stayed firmly locked on hers.

“... Huh.” She said, sighing softly before smiling at him again. “Well, um, if you don’t mind, I’d…” She seemed to trail off for a second, before allowing her free hand to cup his cheek once again. She moved in closer, watching his face for any sign of hesitation. When she found none, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, allowing her eyes to slip shut and fully immerse herself in the feeling. It was almost indescribable; as electrifying as lightning coursing through her veins, yet with a warm, comforting, *grounding* feeling to it, like going on the greatest adventure of her life and coming back to her home all at once. She thought, as his hands slowly moved to hold her close, that this was a feeling she could become addicted to as easily as breathing. 

When the pair finally parted, they lingered for the briefest of moments, neither wanting it to end, before reality seemed to sink back in. Muriel cleared his throat and leaned back, both of them sharing both a smile and a brilliant blush.

After a short period of silence, Muriel cleared his throat and slowly lumbered to his feet, Meleena following close behind.

“... We had better get back to Morga. She’ll be worried we’ve been gone so long.” He mumbled, shyly rubbing the back of his neck as Meleena stood.

“Of course. She’ll probably lecture us about how dangerous it can be out here at night.” She joked, brushing herself off before returning her gaze to the tall man beside her who, she could be sure of now, returned her affections.

“... Go with me?” He asked softly, holding his large hand out for her.

She gave him a warm and gentle smile in return, before slipping her hand into his, causing the blush (which had begun to fade) to return with a vengeance.