THUNDER !

@arrwd + unprompted

nothing pretty nor nothing extravagant, they’re too busy, too focused, too scattered against the pressing of war-torn hands / gentle, the tips of fingers, catherine laughing into the sway of dark hair, they don’t need a ceremony. 

“ i don’t have family to invite, ” catherine mentions, trying to imagine shamir in folds of white, a tender sweetness strange against the sharp visage of a woman who looked better in leather. no dresses for catherine, not anymore.

shamir says, “ then don’t invite anyone. ” and it’s fitting, that answer, blunt and self-assured and –

“ why, so you can have you all to yourself? ” catherine’s lips curve in a smile to see shamir’s dismay, feigning pain at a sharp elbow. marriage. marriage. marriage.

and to think it had meant something less hopeful, once, a compromising of freedom. tight-lipped and choking, bubbling up resentment but holding it out down for duty.

shamir didn’t care for the church. didn’t care for the belief. didn’t care for the way blood ran too thick in catherine’s veins, leaving expectance in its hue. different and hating her for it / different and loving her for it / different enough to not care for the way brands still burn even when you try to put out the fire. it was just – 

“ catherine, i want to take you to my home country. we can start a new life there, ” shamir says, and catherine can feel her heart galloping across her lungs. she can scarcely breathe, the way she’s holding it, the sharp tangy taste of shock, and with her face flushed she shakes her head.

“ how do you say those things so easily? ” she says, taking shamir’s hand and smiling when she’s allowed to hold it, thumb rubbing against the golden band. after a pause, catherine continues: “ when are we leaving? ” 

shamir pinches her face, and catherine laughs.

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐈𝐍  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑,  𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐍   /   𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌.  did she? what was one life worth over another? had she been impaled as fallen assailant had been, would she have died? no. it would simply have resulted in another slew of inquiries, and eventually, a deep slumber to rejuvenate what was lost. pallid malachite observe deep shadow taking Catherine’s features. that now, somehow her knight felt the obligation of Rhea’s life was to be weighed righteously– kind words deepened wounds in riddles falsehoods.   ❝  NOT I, DEAR CATHERINE. IT SHOULD NOT BE I, BUT THE GODDESS HERSELF.  ❞   vocalization quivers meekly, subservient to the devout palms and bent knees of devoted battle-forged hero. in part feeling as if she must put melody to repetition– cast it to memory; despite the truth of the matter disguised within perfect church hierarchy.

she too feels a dagger of sorts burying itself ever-so-deeply within the confines of ribcage.          (  finding opening in wildly thrumming organ, carving a harrowing shelter for those that followed the holy church. )  tattered, bloodied robes fall from porcelain limbs; as bare now as she could possibly be. perhaps it was that seiros saw within herself the shadow, the grim greed that sated voracious thirst to bring back motherly warmth to the world.   ❝   PLEASE YOU MUSN’T APOLOGIZE, YOUR SINCEREITY BINDS ME HERE ALREADY.   ❞   a security blanket to properly wrap herself in without the fear of atrocity afflicting familial tether once again. brandish me as your weapon, hold me in your breast as your unsullied belief and I will always protect you. you will never be alone. fear was not a tool she wished to wield– not with Catherine. not like this. palm warms chilled cheek coated in crimson; plush petals parting as gasp escapes. ( the heat of knight’s love coated her in second skin; a shield if you would, acting as a barrier from what threatened to gnaw and eat its way into organs and dermis. )   ❝   I NEVER HOLD THAT OVER YOU. YOU NEEDED ME, I MERELY CAME TO YOUR AID DUE TO THE NATURE OF YOUR PERSECUTION. YOU WERE NOT WHAT THEY SAID, NOR WERE YOU TO BE PUNISHED AS THEY WANTED.   ❞    again delicate susurration is conveyed with the utmost affection, underlying seriousness lacing each uttered beat.    ❝  I KNOW YOU WOULD NEVER ABANDON ME LIKE THAT. EVEN IF AT TIMES, I WISH YOU WOULD.  ❞   an innocent laid herself at the holy feet,   “  need me.  “   in every movement and promise vocalized. taking palm she removes it from her face; freeing it from leather.  turning toward bathroom sink, knotting both of their palms in togetherness. warmth of nurturing aqua beginning to cleanse. slowed pace, intertwining their lacing: taut, a promise. come closer, I want to know what it feels like to be in the presence of an angel. could she choke on false halo? or absorb the love of one who truly held it upon her flaxen mane.  ❝    … HOW LONG HAVE YOU LOVED ME?  ❞    how long has it burdened you?  malachite wells with loch; bringing knuckles to plush petals. 

could any other woman bring so much agony and bliss in one exchange? the gutting curve of a sword, wedged inside catherine’s gut may have been more merciful than the way rhea belittled her life -- small and inconsequential, a ghost ready to fall through catherine’s hands -- when she was living goddess made flesh? catherine was blinded; biased and full with adoration, she was aware that putting rhea’s life above others was not unlike devotion to a king. laughing at shining gold, once, catherine now put her worship to something just as bright. 

but nothing could be said that had already been said -- rhea, her goddess, yet still demanding devotion to another. “ can’t i be allowed to consider you my everything? ” catherine murmured, soft and quiet and just barely passing lips. it shouldn’t be heard, wouldn’t be heard, and yet catherine’s heart unwillingly spoke that small plea. 

a shudder of pain and catherine was glad for some distance, but not glad to be witness to the slow unraveling of rhea, more fragile and meek than ever, but still quivering with blood on her hands. strength to a point? catherine had to look away, even as porcelain shimmered enough to clutch hard at catherine with longing. devotion only brought quiet to catherine to a certain point -- but now, without insistence, without adrenaline thick enough to hide the fear, weathered hands begging for the blood to be anyone else’s, there was only the embarrassment, shy in the flush of catherine’s skin.

“ but you -- ” catherine laughed, exasperation tickling her past the pain, the distance, the hesitance. “ you were the only one who believed me, lady rhea. even my family hadn’t, but you -- ” blue eyes wet, sparkling and tender and open. “ -- you saw through it in an instant. you can downplay anything else you do, lady rhea, but ... ” catherine paused, the soft breath of her voice growing firm. “ ... not this. only this. so let me stay with you. ” the words peak at the edge, insistent and begging, catherine’s face melting into anguish. “ lady rhea, don’t allow yourself to go through all this alone. as your loyal servant, i beg this of you. it’s the only thing i will ask. so, please ... ”

to the brim with emotion, catherine could not seem to withstand the way she felt for rhea. rhea, who even here, naked and overwhelmingly intimate, wished in the same breath to be abandoned. all of these moments, building up, the small hurts rhea inflicted on herself even without the wounds, how could it be that it was the first time catherine had seen them? how could she have not seen rhea so sad, so deep in an ageless loneliness? she couldn’t abandon her, wouldn’t.

catherine’s breath hitched, but she wouldn’t cry. instead, she found enough confidence to hold rhea’s offered hand a little tightly. it was hard to speak, now. hard to speak with only running water between them and the cold presence of rhea’s palm. was she truly allowed to touch her? was that, in itself, an answer? brought closer not farther away? “lady rhea, i --” 

how long have you loved me? had she been so transparent? any other moment, catherine would find rejection in the heat of her smile, the heavy quiver of her heart. ( of course i love you, we all love you, our goddess -- ) but she was caught. caught and unwilling to pretend. how long have you known? 

“ since i was a student. but it only grew stronger. lady rhea, you are my first love. my only love. ” catherine bowed her head, bashful and almost shamed to speak it. how was it so easy to proclaim to everyone else but the person in question? she thought she would be behind a wall forever, a distance always separating them both. easier that way, maybe. easier for love and devotion to be tied both, for rhea to know knight and nothing else. love and loyalty went hand and hand didn’t they? but --

a smile appears almost unbothered, fingers tapping on the hilt of her sword -- catherine is no stranger to hate, to malice pointed at her face as sharp as metal. it’s usually unasked, a likely repercussion to her devotion, but the scar tissue has built too much over the years and sometimes she wonders if others realize there’s no skin left for wounds. she shakes her head. “ what, you’re going to spit assumptions at me and then leave? but the fun’s just started. ”

hook and dig, for what did a stranger know of her thoughts, her actions? there is almost no point in explaining them: red and angry and twisted, built up and knotted and desperate to not be unwound. “ i can tell this is something personal, ” she says, interlocking her fingers behind her neck, casual in the sharp sheen of her eyes, “ i’ve dealt with your type before. but admittedly it might be the first time someone has been so upfront and misinformed.  ” 

“ i won’t speak for the other knights, but i can speak for myself. ” catherine stands, also, her gaze unflinching. “ you have a strong sense of justice, a good set of ideals, don’t you? but none of that helps on the battlefield. when you’re faced with hard choices, in the spur of the moment, you can’t always hope to be honorable or ‘good’. ” all the reasons convoluted, standing in the mud, barely breathing, blood slick inside her armor and a sword clutched desperately in the palm of her hand -- did anyone have the right to live more than anyone else? “ i don’t claim to be a hero. if the goddess i have given myself up to is evil, then i must be evil, too. i’m just a bloody soldier, but i can’t be weighed down by regret. then all the choices i’ve made, all the blood i have on my hands will have been for nothing. ”

the anger simmers but the exhaustion is heavier, a routine based in a cycle of reasoning, over and over and over. this is not the first time. there will never be a last time. “ you don’t have to agree with my ideals, and i am not asking for forgiveness. it is my duty to take responsibility for what i’ve done in the name of the goddess’ and lady rhea’s justice. ” her expression is marred, all torn and disjointed, but her voice still firm. “ but that is how i’ve chosen to live, even if that means being hated. ” her voice grows soft, the blues of her eyes distant, as if she’s recalling a memory. “ i owe my life to lady rhea, and i will repay it. we all have our reasons. ”

MAKE YOUR MUSE & YOURSELF