Pulled by Fate: In which Dhana is finally reunited with Elithrar (@waterdeephero @pyritea) and Deekin in Cania. {{A couple years after I promised I would write this, Baka comes back swinging with fluffy angst. Hope Dhana is as good as she used to be!}}
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Frigid cold arched across her skin, burning bone deep. But beyond that, to a point that her very soul ached. Booted feet trudged through the snow, crunching and crimping in the deeper drifts. Cheeks burned red, and even her furs couldn't keep the cold at bay. Days, she guessed, had passed, but it could be an eternity for all she knew.
One thing was for certain. Dhana wasn't in the overworld anymore.
The Reaper had confirmed that. Sucked through to their pocket plane, face first into cool obsidian tiles, Dhana had awoken with a start. Last she knew, a denizen of Mephistopheles had thrust a greatsword through her chest. Panicking, scrambling to het feet, the meticulous monotone of the ethereal presence filled her mind.
"What is your will, sojourner?"
Now she was cast out into the baltic, infernal infested hellscape, awaiting what, she knew not. Crouched down by a measley fire, those berries filling a hole and heat in her belly for a short time. Once vibrant sepia eyes look on vacantly into the space before her.
"Deekin isn't sure, but perhaps Boss might find out?"
Those words rip her heart wide open, until she bleeds salty tears in its wake. Soft pattering, clawed feet, hopping through the snow after their leader. Her tongue feels like cotton in her mouth, her head too full of both painful and familiar memories that she feels like she might faint.
Deekin. Of course, the lovable scaley kobold hopped along beside a taller, willowy cloaked figure, with an equally familiar and graceful gait.
Hunting for recognisable features beneath the tanned, furlined cloak, Dhana spies the gorgeous shock of gingery gold hair, angular features, soft lips. Another painful clench of her heart, and her feet are stumbling after the pair in the snow.
How can she not?! Like a string of fate, her soul and being was bound to those walking only a couple feet ahead. But her throat is clenched shut with unspoken grief and need for them both. Her hand outstretched, all long, slender fingers, tattooed and calloused. Her lips part, eyes filling with tears as she wills this not to be another fever dream.
"E-Eli...thrar-"
Emotion cracks her voice, turning it gravelly as it echoes out in the space between them. The reaction is instant, as if both figures before her are struck with an arrow, the taller of the two freezing in place.
Deekin is the first to turn. And when his beady eyes lock onto Dhana's form, a shrill cry of anguish and disbelief emits the kobold.
"B-Boss?!"
He doesn't wait on ceremony, doesn't care for her apologies or excuses. No, Deekin charges towards the sorceress and latches onto her leg as tightly as he can. From the wetting of her leggings, it is clear the proof reptilian is equally moved.
Instinct has her bending down to him, bundling the little fella in her arms and letting out a mournful sound as she buries her head into his scaley shoulder. She rocks him for a moment, unleashing their shared grief. When at last Dhana pulls back, warpaint smudged, eyes red and nose snuffly, her eyes catch on the sight of leather boots in her periphery.
A quiver of pure, unadulterated joy and happiness washes over her as Elithrar's face comes into full view. Golden eyes are round, tears wavering as he barely holds himself back. Straightening, the blackette barely gets a breath in before the elf is engulfing her in a tight squeeze, mouth uttering words of shaky disbelief.
"D-Dhana...God's be good."
His warmth filled her nostrils; that familiar scent of incense, musky amd slight sweat, it was all so nostalgic. Dhana let herself settle into Elithrar's tight embrace, relishing in his soft caresses to her back.
"I-I n-never thought I would
get the c-chance to see you again," The cleric squeezed her tighter, and sliding up her back as that soft, tanned nose is pressed into her shoulder. Tears trickle silently down her cheeks, pressing herself firmly against his warm form. Heart clenching, arms tightning about him, Dhana manages out words that Elithrar is also trying to communicate.
"Gods I have missed you, so much."
Fingers delve into fabric, desperately seeking more contact, the need to be closer almost all consuming.
But here, in Elithrar's arms is exactly where her heart belongs, with Deekin at their side. Just...just like old times...like it should be...
And this time, Dhana would fight tooth and nail to remain there. Even the Archdevil himself.
