epidemiology | ( closed ) when there's nothing left to burn you have to set yourself on fire

[ she curls up onto her knees again, hands curling around her shoulders as she hunches forward, trying to ward off the cold, the pain. when koltira appeals to her, she can only cry more, harder and louder and likely attracting even more unwanted attention. how can she talk, when it feels like her voice has been ripped from her throat? how can she even live, when all she feels now is the cold, hollow abyss of loss. ]

It — It hurts...

[ Without another word, Koltira takes off his long, velvet-lined coat. He kneels beside her, draping it over her shoulders, and then pulls her close against him. Not something he'd do, ordinarily--at least not the pulling in close part--but this is an emergency. She needs support, and while he may not be the best man for the job, he's not going to abandon her, either. ]

What happened? Who hurt you?

[ A flash of anger bolts through his mind.

I'll kill them. ]

[ perhaps it is fortune that smiles down upon them now, that she should be so caught up in her own anguish not to notice the flare of anger spiking within his heart, his tone. despite having jerked away from him before, fearful of returning to camp, she does not hesitate to curl into the warmth and security the fold of his arms provide, her face half-buried against his chest.

who hurt you? he asks, and she finds it would be so easy now to lay blame where her heart has been splintered. to curse him and his companion, a man who still manages to ruin everything in his innocence. but as good as it might feel in this moment, she cannot even bring herself to say his name. the wound too fresh, too raw, she can barely even think his name without feeling a stab in her heart.

besides... as easy as it might have been, is he truly to blame for her pain? every misunderstanding, every transgression... are they all not a product of her own ignorance and wishful thinking? ]

I... I did, [ she winds up saying, when her sobs have subsided enough that she no longer needs to gasp for breath every other second. her voice is low and miserable. ] I was a fool...

[ He doesn't believe that for a second. He knows her too well by now--it's been nearly a year at this point, after all. He knows how she deflects, how she pulls every bit of blame and hurt onto herself, how she leaves no responsibility for anybody else. So he just shakes his head as he threads his fingers in her long, thick hair, as he presses his cheek against the crown of her head. ]

I cannot accept such an answer, and you know this.

[ she grits her teeth, thin shoulders beginning to hitch with every hiccup that steals her breath. her own head shakes furiously beneath the gentle press of his cheek, a tender reminder of his presence. she does not know she can tell him to make him see, that she alone had been a lovestruck fool in all this, blinded by her selfish desires and loneliness...

so she tells him everything. everything. from their very first meeting, to their first tentative kiss stolen between a cloth and dance. to their time together there on the sands of nalawi, when he had played her his lyre when so many of their team had been swept away, and her own heart had been left raw from another spurned love. to their reunion back in oska, his sudden declaration of her as his wife. to her own shock and hesitation, to his tender words that assured her his love, and the promise of her worth within it. to their time together as a makeshift family with those babies in zeta-12, how he had warned here there before a river how loving him had only left to heartache, how her own love had caused him to grow soft and weak and cowardly, how she had offered to rip that love away to give him back his strength, how he had pleaded with her to stay and let him be weak in love at least. how back in oska, her future had been revealed, a future without him, with another man, and how he had forgiven her of that for the future was yet to come. how here, in perditon's rest, his acceptance of lucina had warmed her heart, even as it chilled his own, and how finding him near-death had begun to chip away even more at the tie that bound them...

how patroclus had arrived, and achilles' long lost love was flesh once more. how both men had hoped she would remain his wife still, while another shared his soul. ]

[ The things that Olivia needs right now--empathy, compassion, understanding, gentleness--do not come easily to Koltira. In his present state, these emotions must be deliberately cultivated; he must hold them consciously in his heart like physical objects in his hand.

But Olivia has helped him in this regard, made it easier for him to access those good parts of himself, the remnants of the valiant man he once was. So he sits quietly, listening without interruption, though this history is hard to bear. He loathes Achilles--has loathed him ever since their first conversation--and to think of him enjoying happiness with Olivia makes his gut churn. But it's worse to see her, now, devastated by that same love.

He waits until she's finished. He doesn't answer immediately even then. It takes some willpower for him to push away his first reaction--rage, rage, rage--and to find the more appropriate response. He takes both of her hands in his, squeezing gently. ]

You loved him, and he has betrayed you. That is not your fault.

[ even now, after she has spilled it all, she cannot help but shudder with every breath she takes. she marvels at how her eyes still tear, falling like rain droplets every time she blinks down at their joined hands.

can she really blame achilles for this? his love renewed, a heart that cannot be denied... ]

M-Maybe if I wasn't so selfish — if-if I was better—

[ maybe he'd love her more... ]

[ Koltira kisses her knuckles; his lips are cool but soft enough, his touch light and courtly. ]

No. You are perfect as you are.

[ He loves her; he can admit it to himself, now. He can think it plainly and find it true. Likely he had loved her beyond friendship for a time (he thinks of the cave, her body pinned beneath his, her throat wet with pained gasps), but though he hated Achilles, he respected their relationship. How infuriating to find that Achilles did not show their 'marriage' the same respect. ]

It is not selfish to expect loyalty.

[ perfect though she may be... she is not patroclus.

and she can understand that. dimly, vaguely. she knows that achilles is victim to his own heart just as she is to hers... but she had hoped... perhaps... that their time together had meant more to him than a shared place in his heart.

—no. that isn't true, even then, is it?

for where patroclus owns achilles' heart, she had only been able to cradle it. ]

I... I knew it was only meant to be a dream. [ this beautiful, temporary thing, for their lives stretched on beyond the planes of this realm. their fates demanded they end up elsewhere.

slowly, she lowers her head, pressing her brow to their hands. ]

But I — I never thought this was how I'd wake up.

[ His still heart burns. He wants to tear away from her right now, seek out Achilles and demand justice for this betrayal. How dare he? How dare he make Olivia suffer this way?

Koltira clenches his jaw. No. That's not what's needed. If anything, he must work even harder to maintain distance, lest he do something irreparable.

Focus.

He kisses the top of her hair. ]

I--I am so sorry. If I could shield you from this, I would.

[ But he can't intercept every kind of damage, much as he wishes otherwise.

Quietly. ]

He is a faithless coward, Olivia. And a fool for letting you go.

[ once more her head shakes beneath his touch, but she has lost the voice and strength to speak. her shoulders shudder with every sob, broken and unbidden as they come now. she seems set on exhausting herself in this way, to cry till she has run out of voice and tears and energy.

given how viscerally her body reacts to each sob, she may well be on her way there. ]

[ This is above his pay grade. He needs help. So he's going to call the best person he can think of--her daughter.

He sends a message over the jewelry. ]

Lucina. I'm with your mother. Please hurry.

[ DIRECTIONS ARE GIVEN because he's not gonna ask Olivia to walk just yet.

In the meantime, he does his best, looping his arms ever more tightly around her small, quaking body. He won't let her go. He won't let her suffer alone. ]

[ The fastest way to get Lucina anywhere, unsurprisingly, is to mention her parents in a foreboding message. Whatever work she was doing is quickly halted, and immediately she begins to leave town, sword unsheathed before she leaves. She assumes the worst, while trying desperately not to; anything to have her be prepared for what's to come, yet holding on to hope.

Yet the sight she finds is not what she expected. ]

Koltira! [ She sees him first, his body covering Olivia's; her breath comes in pants as she sprints the last of the journey, only slowing down when she hears crying.

Her mother crying. ] I—

[ The Falchion is sheathed in the next moment, and Lucina immediately kneels beside the two. Her eyes are wide, horrified at the sight in front of her ( how, why— ).

When she speaks, her voice is quiet. ] Mother?

[ lucina's words is marked by a sharp gasp — in the midst of all her sobbing, she hadn't heard koltira make his request. she only knew the feel of his arms wrapped around her, a shadow of the warmth she'd once made the mistake of thinking was hers alone.

when lucina is actually suddenly there, she can do nothing but reel back in shock, in shame. that her daughter should see her like this, a mess both physically and emotionally. her hands fly up to her face, as if hiding it now may make her forget what she'd seen. ]

L-Lucina — no, d-don't worry, please, this nothing —

[ Koltira has a mind to let Olivia go, thinking naturally that she would prefer her daughter's warmer embrace. But he's not so blind as to miss the shame on her face, the reluctance as she turns and tries to hide. He loosens his grip still, letting his hands fall to her waist, but he does not pull away. If she needs to lean on him, he will not refuse her.

To Lucina, he scowls. ]

Achilles betrayed her.

[ Empathetic and helpful, as always. ]

[ Lucina's heart breaks —

Because it's her mother, graceful and beautiful for as long as Lucina could remember, crying ( even her death was met with grace ). Immediately, she's reaching out, hands gently wrap around Olivia's wrist, blinking back the tears that seem to want to join, as well.

— and simultaneously, she sees red. ] Achilles. [ Her eyes harden immediately, meeting Koltira's gaze with a fury. The gentle hold on Olivia's wrist tightens as she spits out the word with as much venom as she could muster.

But she can't, not here. Her grip loosens just as quickly, and she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath. ] Mother— [ She tries again, voice calmer, restrained.

She lets go of Olivia, slowly, before standing up — her hand goes to her cape, unfastening it. It's seen better days ( it always has ) but someone here needs it more. ]

Here. For her shoulders — please. [ She hands the blue cape to Koltira, trusting he knows what to do with it. She's kneeling by Olivia's side again, gently trying to guide her hands away from her face. ] Please; you can hold my hands instead.

[ olivia can feel her entire body burning with shame, or perhaps that is the blood itself, screaming for air that her sobs have prevented her from properly breathing in. she heaves and hiccups around each breath she tries to take, each one punctuated with a warbled, miserable sound that she cannot even begin to try holding back at this point.

she knows she must be strong in front of her future daughter, in front of her dear friend. she hates that they should see her like this, broken and beaten down to something so small, so pitiful.

and yet, try as she might to muster up the strength, the courage, she can only feel her what few pieces of her heart remain continue to splinter with every second that passes by. perhaps the single fortunate thing about all this untameable crying? she is not nearly strong enough to resist lucina's gentle coaxing, her hands giving way to reveal a face turned near blue from all her weak gasping. ]

( closed ) when there's nothing left to burn you have to set yourself on fire

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