twenty nine
"hands slick with blood"

Casia panted as she stepped back, shirt stuck to her back with hot sweat. The blade was slippery in her palm and her pulse a thunderstorm in her chest, lungs inhaled and exhaled rapidly.

Kyrie still advanced, a glint in her eye that just let everyone know she was dangerous, she was well-taught and well-practised, and that she would not, not in a million years, take it easy on the half-breed Midgardian.

"I need a break," Casia told her and expected her to back off, to sheath her weapon to have her own break, but she was gravely mistaken.

As soon as her sword lowered, Kyrie swiped at her viciously.

The blade stung as it struck her, more force behind it than any of the other blows. While she was thankful it was blunt, she knew there would be a hell of a bruise the next day and a lesson to come of it.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Casia hissed and pressed a hand over the angry red mark on her upper arm, willed it to go away.

"Your opponent isn't going to let you take a break," She said irritatingly calmly. "So, neither am I." Her words word enunciated and flared with the gesturing of her sword, one hand rested on her hip.

Cruel to be kind was how she justified the act. This wasn't a game. This was real life. Warriors died every single day and this woman was whining about a slap. Kyrie may have been calm in tone and exterior, but her interior fizzed as she remembered all those she had watched fall while this girl complained about a minor scratch.

"But you're not an enemy, you're a teacher!" The agent protested. She pouted as she rubbed the smooth skin of her arm that was now branded with the mark of Commander Kyrie Kella.

"You need to learn not to drop your guard until the threat is neutralised," Kyrie told her sternly, her back stiff and shoulders raised. The light shirt she wore flapped in the wind as it came untucked from sword play.

In all her years, she'd never met a woman so childish, so pedantic. Who liked to pick at every detail and hold onto it with both hands, determined to win an argument. While that determination was admirable, being on the receiving end was far beyond an annoyance.

"You're not a threat," Casia argued, plump bottom lip pushed out. All her toys lay at the wheels of the pram.

Kyrie snapped and, with eyebrows raised and hand tight around the sword, she ground her teeth before she said, "If that is the truth, why do you keep failing to defeat me in combat?"

Casia sucked in a breath, unable to respond to her question because, in truth, the only answer to her question was the fact that she just wasn't up to par yet.

And that stung. Casia was always top of the class, the best at everything. Her competitive nature always gave her that edge. But this? This was a different ball game and she just could not wrap her head around it for the life of her.

"That's what I thought," Kyrie said as she glanced away briefly before she looked back to the sulking woman. She raised her sword again. "Now, grow up and fight like you actually want to learn how."

-

-

After a few not-so-subtle hints from Olea, Lusine decided to attend the evening feast at her side. As a united front divided from her mother, she would dine alongside her cousin and Florian.

Florian hadn't been a man she'd suspected would become a traitor to Selene, but he had come here with Olea to stand alongside who they'd taken to calling the 'rightful queen of Remulan'.

In complete honesty, the thought made Lusine's stomach threaten to pour out its contents. She wanted no ownership of her birthplace any longer. That place was just another moon to her now: there was nothing there for her anymore.

When Olea had walked in to find her dressed in the long sleeved silk shirt and a pair of fitted trousers, she had cringed without concealment. An unintentional insult. Lusine's jaw jutted to the side as she turned back to the mirror to brush through her hair one more time.

Olea crept around to her side and leaned against the dresser. Stared at Lusine with those big, open eyes, swamped with emotion.

"You don't have to conceal your scarring," she said softly, a hand at her necklace as she wound it around and around in her fingertips.

"I know," Lusine replied, the illusion dissolving from her cheeks to reveal the angry scars, still raw with trauma. "But I also feel although dressing up for evening feasts is futile. This will do. I'm sure everyone knows that I was almost murdered so, yes, you're right. I don't need to conceal them because everyone already knows all about them."

Her cousin frowned. The thoughts that rushed through her head had creased her peaceful expression.

"But you survived. They know that too," She pointed out. Her hand dropped from her necklace to fold over Lusine's at her side.

"I still will not glamour myself for them. If what they want is a monster, maybe that is what they deserve. Not my gowns, jewels and heels." Her hand was loose in Olea's grip. "All I want to do is finish training Agent Radcliffe so that I may leave this horrible place for good."

"Where do you intend to go?" Olea asked, retracted her fingers and wound her own together as her stomach bounced inside of her with a familiar sense of anxiety for the future. She had always been sure of her future. She would wed young, have many children and love them all dearly. She would heal as many of the fallen as she could and teach her craft to her children so that the good of the healers may be passed on once again.

A beautiful cycle of life that she'd found glorious. Had always romanticised and counted down the days until, but now that all seemed another life all together. Not the life destined for her.

No. That life path ended the day she discovered her cousin was not dead as they'd all been led to believe. Lusine Volkov changed her life just as she had done to many before her and would continue to do to many after her. And she would remain at her side for every second of that change.

"Where else would accept me but Midgard?" The corner of her mouth twitched, a shooting star rocketed across her oceans of blue. "I do not ask you to follow me, but all I beg of you is that you never return to Remulan, Olea, never again. I hate to believe it, but they would execute you for your alliance with me."

"I would never return," She replied as her eyes lowered and searched. "And you mean to make Midgard your eternal home?"

"Yes," Lusine said simply without hesitation. "There is no doubt about it. I would help them with their missions, find a place to live and settle there. I don't need a crown, a throne or an empire to be happy."

Olea stood straight and met Lusine's eyes. "Then I will follow," She breathed as if it had taken effort to come to the decision, but that it took her breath away with excitement and anticipation. "I trust you in your belief of Midgard. Whether Kyrie and Florian will follow too is up to them, but I will. Remulan is not my home. Asgard is wonderful, but it is not my home either. Maybe Midgard would accept me too."

Lusine smiled openly. "I'm positive they would, cousin, without a twinge of doubt."

Olea rushed into her arms before she could object and held her tight. Lusine wrapped her arms around the only family she had left who she truly and honestly loved, who she would defend until her final breath without a flicker of regret.

"Thank you," Lusine whispered into her hair. "thank you for everything you have done for me."

Her cousin drew back, eyes lined with silver tears, and said, "No, thank you. Without you, I would still be loyal to a woman with no soul. Now I understand and never want to go back ever again."

Lusine reached forwards and tucked Olea's dark curls behind her ears. "You'll be safe with me," She promised sincerely believing it to be so and silently praying that fate would grant her this one wish.

-

-

Casia had been swirling the last drops of her wine around in the glass when Lusine walked in, flanked by Olea and a man she had never seen before. Her mouth dropped open, as did many others around the hall at her entrance.

Whispers rose into the air immediately, snickers sounded lowly and even the odd pointed finger. It seemed all were shocked to see the wolven princess up and walking again. There wasn't a being in the hall who hadn't hear her agonised screams, who hadn't been kept up at night by them, even long after they'd stopped. 

Without a word or a smile to anyone, the three of them strode briskly over to her table and sat down at the smaller table. Casia sat to the side when Thor was not there to keep her company. It was easier to watch everyone from the corner; better to stay out of the way.

Beside her, the stranger took his seat while Lusine and Olea sat across from her, Kyrie no where in sight.

Casia blinked at her with a wide smile. "You made it," She said, in a stinging disbelief. "You finally ventured from your chambers."

"Well," Lusine picked up a bread roll and tore it in half, "an attempted murder does tend to take the life out of you," She joked, but there was no smile to match the dry humour.

"Oh," Olea's eyes brightened, almost forcefully and in defiance of the thoughtless comment from a woman who appeared not to know quite when to bite her tongue, "Casia, this is Florian Aubade." She gestured to the slender man. "Florian, this is Casia Radcliffe. She has come here from Midgard to be trained in the art of magic by my cousin."

"it's a pleasure to meet you," Florian said, though his 'pleasure' did not meet his eyes as he quickly became more interested in the on goings of the feast, watched everything like a paranoid hawk.

Lusine sat and ate quietly, which Casia found almost as unnerving as her brief possession by the void cretin. When a servant came over, she noticed that Lusine's fingers twitched, her head dropped and hair fell into her face in concealment.

Casia did not think it appropriate to comment on at the dinner table and instead continued to stir the boiling soup, which she'd already burnt her tongue on.

To cut through their uncomfortable silence, Lusine said, "Tomorrow, Casia, we can continue your training." Lusine did not lift her eyes as she spoke, but Casia didn't notice.

Olea's head snapped to look at her cousin and, while Casia smiled in obvious relief, she questioned quietly, "Do you really think that wise so soon?"

"I want to get this training done so that I can leave this personal hell," Lusine replied lowly, fingers squashing the soft bread into pieces and her glare turned it to charcoal.

"Where should I meet you?" Casia asked, gleeful about being able to make progress at last.

The days she'd spent training with Kyrie were tough, but she wasn't sure they were actually doing her any good besides releasing her anger by arguing with the warrior at every slight hiccup. It just wasn't working. So, hearing that Lusine was ready to begin again lifted her mood into the clouds.

"Do you remember where we ran to? I think it would be safest if you met me there in the morning just in case you lose control, even for a second, and kill someone," Lusine said bluntly without consideration of how the truth of knowing she was a danger would hurt, even if she knew it herself already.

"Right, yeah," Casia nodded as she poured herself more wine, the familiar pout on her mouth. "That's perfect."

Lusine sat back in her chair, dipped her bread into the soup, and then stuffed it into her mouth. The rest of her evening was spent picking at food, listening to the rants of Casia as she complained about training with Sif and Kyrie and whined about Thor.

Lusine realised that she didn't care.

In fact, she could not care less what the ungrateful woman before her thought as she rose from her chair, wished them a good evening, whispered a plea to Olea not to follow, and stalked from the room to find solitude.

Casia watched her leave with a frown and then turned to Olea with her question. "She's not fully healed, is she?" She asked as she absently stirred the soup.

"Physically, she is," Olea replied and then sighed. "But psychologically?" She swallowed the lump in her throat, felt it slide all the way down as she shook her head, "I don't think she will ever be fully healed, unfortunately. All she needs now is peace and respect. So, please do try to be more sensitive with her, Casia."

Casia's immediate urge was to defend herself, but the distant woman who had sat before her with scars lining her face called for her to consider the plea once again.

She nodded finally. "I will," She said, "I'll try my best."

"And that is all we ever ask," Olea responded gently, a soft smile at her pink lips to assure the woman that she did indeed thank her for her respect with complete genuineness and belief that she really would try to be more sensitive to the girl who almost died at the hands of her own mother.

-

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