Chapter Text
I wake up disoriented, confused, and with my throat on fire.
My eyes feel impossibly heavy to peel open, and once I manage the herculean task, my reward is them getting mercilessly stabbed by the sunlight.
I groan and lift an arm to shield them, or at least that's my intent: my limb is slow to respond to my command, and when it does, my strength is barely enough to raise it a few inches before I drop it back with a sigh.
“Mira!”
I know that voice, and my eyes dart to her face, painful sunlight be damned.
Violet.
Violet is here. She's alive.
I struggle to remember what happened and why I feel so weak right now, but I do remember my panic after I was dragged down from the sky at the thought of having failed her, of being the reason she was in danger.
I force my brain out of the fog still lingering there, but all I get are flashes of Teine being chased and attacked, and then–
–Teine!
– Here.
The relief almost steals my breath, and for a moment I linger there, in that corner of my soul where his green glow has always been wrapped around me like an armour.
Like a hug.
“Here, you must be parched.”
My sister’s hands are gentle as she helps me tilt my head up enough to drink the water my body had been craving so much. It helps with the fire still raging in my throat, but doesn’t fully extinguish it.
Now that I think of it, it’s not only burning, it feels… off. Like I have something stuck on the skin that covers my throat, like a very tight necklace that is both outside and inside.
Suddenly, a flashback hits me with the strength of a racing horse, and the water takes the wrong way down, making me cough, and the coughing turns to wheezing.
“First thing to learn about us is that we’re careful with our words. And the second? We also lie.”
Pain erupts in the front of my neck as if the blade was slicing me open once again, and I gasp, desperate for air as my hands weakly try to reach for my throat and I toss around in complete, annihilating panic.
I hear Violet’s voice calling my name, and her hands on me to hold me back, but how can I stop? How can she be telling me it’s alright when I’m choking, drowning in my own blood, and there is not. enough. air.
I’m going to die, and she’s going to be alone against–
Bigger, more firm hands suddenly grasp my shoulders, and this person is strong enough to hold me down. Not rough, incredibly careful, but also unrelenting.
They pin me down until the touch becomes grounding more than caging, and I finally manage to take a small trembling breath, which goes all the way down through my throat, that is no longer split open. There is no blood on me. I can breathe.
The ringing in my ears subsides as I shake uncontrollably, my hands clutching and unclutching the bedsheets at my sides, and the more I breathe, the more aware my body becomes of the fact that I am alive.
I’m alive. I’m fucking alive. My throat was slit, and I didn’t die.
I did not fucking die!
“You didn’t.”
A deep voice confirms, and my eyes finally focus on the face in front of me to recognize it. Reddish brown curls, amber eyes, and painfully familiar features I used to think I would never get to see again.
Brennan.
For the first time, since the day I broke his nose for faking his fucking death and abandoning us for six godsdamn years, the sight of him fills me with an emotion different from anger, betrayal and hurt.
Relief.
Relief that he’s here, because he’s a mender.
Because he’s him.
Because he’s my older brother.
Brennan is alive, and I no longer have to be the oldest sibling. It’s like a weight I had not even realized was placed on me is lifted.
Do I trust this man? No.
Do I forgive him for everything that his lie has brought? Probably not, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to, but at the same time…
I missed my big brother.
The one who grew up by my side, who played and trained and fought with me.
The one who came to me before Parapet, with a set of leathers made just for me and a book that saved my life endless times.
And I don’t even need to ask to know how I survived this time, too.
Seeing me finally calm and taking slow, tentative breaths, Brennan cautiously lets go of me, retreating until he can sit back on the armchair next to my bed.
I notice that there is only one seat, with Violet perched on the edge of my bed, instead, and I can’t help but wonder just how long he has been occupying that armchair, just to stay by my side.
– From the very first day, I hear. Marbh is displeased about it.
Teine supplies, and something unpleasant stirs in my stomach.
It’s easier to stay angry at someone when they give you no reason to be grateful.
But I do owe him my life.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice raspy and still breathless. Violet hesitates and throws a glance at Brennan, waiting for his nod before she hands me more water and helps me swallow it down.
This time I don’t choke on it.
“How much do you remember?” he asks, and Violet stares at me with those wide, intelligent eyes of hers, staring at me like she’s terrified I’ll slip away right under her gaze.
She has changed so much, not only from the person she was before becoming a Rider, but also from the last time I saw her… She seems empty, like she lost a part of herself. Or her soul.
“I remember the venin,” I reply, moving my gaze from my sister to my brother, checking their expressions.
They both seem tense and on edge, and also like they could use a day or two of uninterrupted sleep.
Shit, is this because of me?
“Theophanie is dead. I killed her.”
There is no triumph in Violet’s voice, nor relief. She’s just reporting a fact as if this were Battle Brief, and I hate that I have no way of deciphering her tone, of understanding what’s wrong, or how I can help.
She’s my baby sister, and she’s suffering.
I hate feeling so useless.
– Give yourself time, Fierce One. You will be there for your sister.
Teine is right.
I’m still here, I will recover and I will be ready to stand by Violet’s side to protect her like I always have.
Thanks to him.
I look again at Brennan, and find him already studying me. For a moment, we lock eyes, and even though the man staring at me is more like a stranger than the brother I used to adore, this is still familiar.
He’s just as worried as me, and just as determined.
We’re both going to do everything we can for Violet, and no matter what kind of strain our relationship goes through, we will always be allies when it comes to her.
I need to know what happened after, what happened while I was unconscious, but I fear that if I ask, I will force Violet to tell me about things she either doesn’t want to or can’t remember.
“We made a deal, Vi.”
My younger sister’s head whips around to glare at our brother, her eyes wide like she can’t quite believe he’s bringing that up now.
A deal?
“You could stay here until Mira woke up and you saw for yourself that she’s alive. Well, there she is. Alive and breathing and talking, and I promise you I’ll make sure she continues to do so even as you go take a bath and get some rest.”
Yeah, that sounds exactly like the kind of deal old-Brennan would impose on our little sister.
There’s a storm raging into her eyes as she does her best to glare at him, like she isn’t half his size and has maybe a quarter of his experience in fighting.
She does best him in signet, but I don’t think she fancies frying our brother… yet.
He holds her gaze, and I know for a fact that they’re both stubborn enough to stay like this until tomorrow if I don’t do something about it.
“Brennan’s right,” I sigh, and gods, does it bother me to say those words.
Violet gapes at me, like that’s the last thing she’d ever expect to come out of my mouth. Brennan looks just as stunned for a moment, before he shoots Violet a smug, dimpled smile that is just like the one I knew from our childhood.
“Seriously? You two are going to team up against me now?” our sister huffs, crossing her arms on her chest.
“Yes,” I deadpan.
“Absolutely,” he confirms, and the way we spoke at the same time reminds me of a time when we’d be perfectly in tune with each other, inseparable, and would always team up together, especially when it came to Violet’s wellbeing.
She stands up with a quiet curse and sends another glare our way.
“You could use way more sleep than me,” she accuses, pointing an accusatory finger at Brennan, and I have to admit she has a point. He looks ready to pass out.
He tilts his head at her in response, mirroring her previous move of folding his arms.
Gods, we really are all the same, aren’t we?
The thought feels oddly painful and comforting at the same time.
“And I will get it as soon as we’re done here, I promise. But who’s the mender here?”
Violet looks like she would like to argue more, but at the same time, she seems tired, and defeated. I get once again that sense of wrongness looking at her, but before I can ask anything about it, she finally gives in.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” she stares solemnly at the two of us, then her gaze softens as she meets mine, “I’m so glad you’re alive, Mira.”
“Yeah… me too,” I say, forcing my lips into a smile, ignoring the pain in my throat at the very few words I’ve spoken.
Once she’s out, it’s quiet again in my room.
I can’t shake the feeling that there is more I’m supposed to remember, something that would help the pieces that now feel off fall right into place, but no matter how hard I try to focus, my memories are like paper flying in a storm, making it hard for me to catch one.
The pain flares up and I can’t help but groan. I see Brennan moving on my side, but he seems hesitant.
“Can I help?”
I frown. I remember a time when he wouldn’t even ask before reaching for me to fix whatever was wrong with me.
But I suppose there’s things not even a mender can put back into place.
A part of me wants to say no, to tell him to get the fuck out and stop playing the part of the caring brother. He abandoned us, and in the worst possible way. There's no way the older brother I used to know and love would do such a thing, and yet...
No matter how another part of me wants to forget that and just be happy that I still have a brother, I just cannot let that go, I can't just forgive him.
Still, I am in pain, and I feel the way this is causing Teine distress, and Brennan is not only my cowardly, estranged brother, unfortunately.
He’s also a tremendously talented mender, which is what I am in desperate need of right now.
With a sigh, I finally nod, and his warm hand brushes my neck before I feel his power tickling my skin.
It’s uncomfortable, and it takes everything in me not to grunt in pain, but eventually it subsides, taking most of the pain away with it.
My next breath feels much easier.
“How is it now?”
I hum, testing the waters before I try for a full sentence:
“Better, I think. Thank you.”
He gives me a small smile that doesn’t fully reach his eyes, nor show his dimple. I can tell he’s not only exhausted, but nervous too.
“How long did I sleep? How much did I miss? What happened?” I question him, trying to pull myself higher on the pillows. He reaches for me and helps me so quickly I know he didn't stop to think and just acted on instinct this time.
His face is conflicted when he sits back into the armchair, and I raise an eyebrow at him.
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” he says quietly, rubbing a hand on his face, “I’m just trying to figure out where to start.”
That does not sound reassuring at all. I reach for Teine, trying to find some answers from him too, but…
– I only woke up a few hours before you did.
Shit.
Whatever happened almost took him out too. I reach for our bond again, searching for pain, injury, or anything else I may have missed until now.
I half expect Teine to shield me out and growl at my invasion of his privacy, but the bond remains open and shimmering as always.
I guess my dragon missed me as much as I did.
“Start with the easy one,” I finally suggest, shrugging. “How long did I sleep?”
“Eight days.”
Oh, wow, that’s… a lot.
“And you’ve been mending me the whole time?”
Even before he nods, I could already tell the response from his face.
“The last few days it was mostly just to keep the pain in check, you didn’t need it as much as before.”
I know this technique, at least this hasn't changed in him. He's sticking to short, precise answers that don't require any kind of emotional effort, because he's afraid of digging deeper, of me digging deeper until I find whatever he's truly thinking.
I'm too exhausted for this, and I sigh again, my eyes falling shut.
He's buying time, what for I'm not even sure, but I need those answers, and I'm getting them now.
“I think I remember something else, but I just can't grasp it.”
“It's normal, your brain is still trying to catch up, and before we do anything else, you need more water, and possibly some food, whatever you can keep down.”
Ugh.
The thought of food makes my stomach twist with need and nausea at the same time, making me groan.
“I want answers first, Brennan.”
“I know you do, but I want you to gain your strength back first, so we're at a stall here.”
Stubborn asshole.
I shoot him my best glare, the one I've been mirroring from our mother since I was too young to look convincing.
To his credit, he's completely unaffected by it, giving me one of his own in return.
I sigh, we truly are our mother's children.
The thought of her sends a completely new kind of pain through my body.
“Fine. How about a compromise?”
“You and your stupid compromises.” I grumble, but if that's what will get me answers, I can accept whatever he has in mind.