#unbent

You didn’t know whether to scream, warn Oberyn and Ellaria, or to reach out to the Society to stop them. You manage to dial your phone with a shaking hand, raising it to your ear. Arguing with the rep on the side of the Ecological Society gets you absolutely nowhere—insisting that the possibility of the cave falling in is a hazard to Society members, and to your crew; telling them that they have no right to take your crew members from the dive site. The Ecological Society insists that the Dean had reassured them that you would be pleased to clear the fork out, the explore it, to volunteer your crew. As you slam the phone back into the cradle, you seethe with tears. You hear the door opening, glance up to see Ellaria smiling in your doorway. Her face falls at the sight of you, and she hurries inside, shutting the door behind herself. “What’s wrong?” She asks, striding deeper inside. She holds her arms out to take you in, but you catch hold of her arms, catching hold of her. You know that if she draws you close, you'll never manage to tell her what you need to.  “I can’t stop them,” You shake your head, the full force of your panic crushing in on you, “They—they—” You step back, pointing her to your computer, “I can’t stop them.” You lean back against your windowsill, frustratedly pushing away tears as she reads. You see her shoulders go rigid, and you bury your face in your hands, sinking into yourself and hiding your sniffles. You expect her to yell. You expect retreating footsteps, the sound of the door slamming.  When she runs her hands over your shoulders and shushes you, and draws you in regardless, you’re stunned—but you go, and lean into the comfort desperately. “We’ll figure something out, my love,” She murmurs, “We always do.” But you can hear the hint of uncertainty in her voice. -- “Well?” Oberyn asks. You understand the expectant looks that he and Ellaria give you as you come back into their living room, but you feel yourself wilting under them. “They’re...Through for the day, they’ve left. They’ve made it through the first layer of rock that I put up, can see the other side,” You tell them. Your voice is quiet; raw from the crying you’ve been doing on your own. Ellaria had left to find Oberyn, and the two of them had canceled their classes for the rest of the day. You’d taken a touch more time to meet them at their apartment. You’ve needed to process this a bit; marinate in the fact that you may have just destroyed their secrecy.

“Is there security at the cove?” Oberyn asks, “The way there was at the Old Palace?” “No,” You shake your head, “It’s so remote, and the left side of the fork has had all of the artifacts cleared out, so...They’re not worried.” You glance up to see Oberyn and Ellaria sharing one of their little looks. As they turn back to you, you lower your eyes to the ground again like a chastened child. “Come here,” Oberyn urges gently. You hesitate before you do as you’re told, shuffling around the coffee table and plopping between them when you’re urged. They cuddle you in, wrapping you up in them, and you close your eyes, reveling in their warmth. “What’s going to happen?” You mumble. You hear Oberyn sigh softly. “We...Have a few options. But no matter what, we...We will leave. Soon.” It's said with such finality that you know there's no dissuading them. A new wave of panic crests over you—worse than the email caused. You feel yourself fold over their arms where they’re wrapped around you, your eyes squeezed shut, your hands lifting hide your face from them. “I didn’t want this to happen—” You mumble. “We know—” “I don’t want you to go—” “We have to,” Ellaria warns, “Even if we’re able to destroy our likenesses. It’s not the first time we’ve gone underground.” They’re quiet, careful as you regather yourself. “...Where will you go?” You mumble. “We haven’t decided,” Oberyn admits, “We’re hoping to have decided by tomorrow morning.” You lean back against the couch. “But—Your lives, your—Your things…” You flounder for reasons they can’t leave Sunspear—why they can’t leave you here. “It won’t matter,” Ellaria offers breezily, “We’ll come back in a hundred years, it’ll be forgotten.” She means to reassure you, she does, but all it does is make desperate tears well in your eyes. You blink them out, but they don’t make it to the apples of your cheeks before your hands raise to furiously scrub at them. “I didn’t want this for you,” You mumble, “I just…” You trail off, twisting your hands. “Go on,” Oberyn urges quietly, stroking your cheek, snagging a tear that you've missed.  “Just wish we had more time.” --

Ellaria finds herself shivering as she holds the flashlight steady, pointing it toward the opening in the rocks. “She did a damn good job sealing it,” Oberyn grunts, glancing up at the wall of rock that the archaeologist built up to ward off advances. He reaches out, taking his flashlight from Ellaria before he ducks through carefully, shining the light around. “Quickly,” He urges. Ellaria joins him in a moment, peering around. “We’ll pay our respects, destroy the likenesses, go home,” Oberyn murmurs, shifting his bag on his arm. He glances at Ellaria. “What’d she get up to, do you know?” “No,” Ellaria sighs, “But I told her to make sure she had an alibi.” “Good.” It doesn’t take them long—they know the passage as well as they knew the Old Palace—as well as they know their apartment now. It takes them both to lift the glass cases, to chisel off the features on the likenesses, to erase the words on the temple walls and sweep them away to avoid their reconstruction. It's aching, damnably tiring work, and it feels like they're truly destroying bits of themselves—the resting places that Doran had carefully constructed and left behind for them. Now and again, each of them leans away to mark their progress, and they stop, eyeing the chamber meant to hold them for eternity. When the work is completed, Oberyn is careful as he reseals the backpack with the wall and paint chips. He lets Ellaria duck out through the hole in the rocks first. He takes one last look around before he follows through.

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