#twons

Her thoughts were racing as if she’d encountered some grand danger, not just the anger and hurt of her husband. The words he’d shouted seemed to glance right off her like water from the backs of ducks. Her mind couldn’t hold them and she wasn’t sure if that was due to how heavy the conversation was or her own confusion.

“Athis, please!” she said, voice carrying over the settled snow and ice that spread itself thin over the side of the mountain. She’d kept her power from the words, and did not let them shake the earth beneath her feet.

He’d made it pretty far before he started shivering. He wheeled on her and trudged back a few paced, face twisted in a scowl.

“I asked you why and you had no good answer for me,” Athis said, voice low and dangerous. “No. You — you refused to answer.”

“It’s not — Athis, I didn’t refuse to answer, you just didn’t like what you were hearing!”

He crossed his arms over his chest, but Nyenna didn’t miss the way his arms were shaking, or how his fists were clenched tight enough to leave marks in his palms.

It was a moment again before he spoke, and when he did, his voice was low with a rage burning in the background. “Why would you forgive him? Forgive that? Why would you allow yourself back into the same chaos you’d left behind?”

“I told you this already. We have to work together. We don’t have a choice.”

“We do have a choice, Nyenna! That’s what you’re not seeing.” He paused and let out a sigh. She watched as shivers began overtaking him. Her own budding rage prevented her from moving to his side to keep him warm as she normally would have. “You don’t need to treat him like some kind of friend — or more. His presence has a purpose, and when that is done, he can go. We can be rid of him and go about our lives as we intended.”

Nyenna ground her teeth and flexed her fingers. Something primal screamed in her head, or deeper still within her bones. Somehow, she managed to ignore it. Her own heart beat furiously in her chest, as if it was itself a dragon, wings beating to help it escape the confines of her ribs. And she was angry. She was, but she knew the reason: Athis was right. She hated to be called foolish in not so many words. He had a point. His pain was valid. But that didn’t mean he knew everything.

He couldn’t know everything. No matter how much she explained the situation, or the danger, he would never grasp it. Not in its entirety.