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Three days have passed since Queen Tamlin of Leah was officially pronounced dead.
Lyria and Eretria still have not spoken.
The princess of a broken kingdom wonders why her worst fears happen to her, over and over. Escaping her mother was pointless, anyway. But now that she actually has, Lyria feels a certain emptiness in her soul - one that no one could ever fill.
It feels wrong, so wrong to miss a person so cruel to her. The queen kept her vice on her until she finally realized death was there to take her. "Now, go," echoes through Lyria's mind, along with the screams she heard when Eretria took her hand and led her out of the castle.
Eretria. Why can't she forgive?
The world the princess once found fascinating is now tainted with blood, abuse, and regret. Eretria was her escape from it. She was her hope, her protector, her light - and now they don't even speak.
"Was what we had even real?"
Lyria's lip quivers and her eyes begin to sting as she walks through the slums they now call camp. Carrying her bags and the weight of her guilt, she is taken aback when she enters the room and Eretria is already sitting on her unofficially designated side of the bed. The rover almost glances in Lyria's direction, but stops herself, continuing to sharpen two identical daggers. Lyria's heart pangs.
She places her bag down, moving towards the opposite side of the bed. Retrieving her night clothes from the side, she tosses them to the sheets and removes her shirt, eyes on the woman she wishes would look at her just once tonight. She wants a sign, anything from Eretria that acknowledges she still exists.
Lyria walks to the front of the small room, still without a shirt, as a futile attempt for her girlfriend to even gaze in her direction. Standing in front of the faded glass on the wall, she pretends she still cares about her appearance and slowly undoes her hair from the intricate braid it was in.
She's felt desolate when Tamlin tore her apart verbally for everything she was, preferring women, straying from home, refusing to cooperate. But somehow for reasons Lyria could never explain, Eretria's silence was almost equally hurtful.
"I'm sorry, okay?" The words cut through the quiet sharper than the knives Eretria stopped fiddling with. Lyria turns to face her, but Eretria apparently thinks the ground is a more interesting thing to look at. Seconds which feel like whole minutes pass. The rover begins to sharpen her knives once more.
"Unbelievable," the princess mutters, turning back around to finish letting her hair free.
She knows she's screwed up, royally, but really, she just wishes they would talk it out so it would be over and done with. Fight, even. Anything but this.
Neither of them say another word for the remainder of the night. Lyria desperately wishes she had more hair to undo so that she doesn't have to turn and risk Eretria seeing the tears pooling in her tired eyes. But she does, she does turn, but by then the rover is already climbing into bed. Staying only on the edge of her side, not occupying anymore space than necessary. She pulls a sheet over herself and closes her eyes nonchalantly.
Lyria switches their small light out and follows suit on the opposite side.
"Let's go. There's nothing left for me here."
Lyria remembers how hurt Eretria looked. But more painfully, she recalls how easy it was for her to walk away.
She presses her eyes shut to stop the flow of tears, and eventually, painfully falls asleep to the cold absence of Eretria's arms around her.
It's day four, and the silent treatment between the pair is still going strong. Lyria thinks to herself, I apologized, at least I apologized, but gnawing in the back of her mind is the reality that she was never quite good at apologies anyway. Every time she tried with her mother, she was hit with rejection to which the princess would always reply with of course I am or I do mean it. To which Tamlin would either grab her by the arm, gold nails digging into her skin, pushing her out of vicinity, or having a guard carry out the command for her.
She can't help but think she was never adequate enough for Eretria in the first place.
But she pushes it down as the group of them move through the woods in search of supplies. Eretria leads, alone in the front while Lyria and Garet linger in the back. He notices the distance between the pair that he expected to be bound by the hip.
"Trouble in paradise?"
She rolls her eyes and tilts her head away. "You could say that."
He's silent for a moment but then roughly places a hand on her shoulder. "If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me."
Lyria smiles, until - "So are you into men at all?" She rolls her eyes and walks towards the middle of the group, abandoning the bounty hunter whining and calling for her in the back.
By nightfall, the group is gathered around a fire, eating their meals. Conversations ensue but the princess pays no attention. Lyria can't help but notice Wil, and how Eretria seems so comfortable around him. They're a little too close for Lyria's comfort. But instead of causing a scene, she keeps quiet, listening to her mother's advice for once. What poor timing the heir to Leah always seems to have.
She observes how the pretty boy is put on a pedestal by everyone for being a Shannara, and how he eggs it on. Appointing himself as leader. The charisma, the eye-candy, and the strength. Eretria and Wil sit close, sharing jokes, bumping shoulders. Wil steals lingering glances at the rover.
Lyria's food becomes sour at the taste.
"What about you, princess?"
Mareth's voice rips Lyria out of her thoughts, and she looks up to see all eyes on her. All except Eretria's, of course. "Do you miss how your life used to be?"
She thinks of scouting with Eretria, then coming home just to shower each other in kisses, still never tired of one another. She thinks how she had lain with her outside and watched the stars, listening to her lover talk of constellations and planets and places far far away. She thinks of how, at the end of the day, she always had someone in her corner. She always had Eretria.
"Of course I do."
Tamlin's throat was slowly and painfully slit, blood spilling all over her royal gown and onto the floor. The queen screamed until she couldn't scream anymore, deafening and unforgettable, and Lyria wakes up.
She sits up and buries her face in her hands as sobs wrack her body. The midnight air is freezing cold, and the fear plaguing the princess's heart only causes her to shiver violently. Her mother's high-pitched cry replays, over and over in Lyria's ears, until it becomes one, drawn out, endless scream.
She feels something begin to restrict her, wrap around her, and she fights back until she recognizes Eretria's voice gingerly saying her name. Opening her eyes through blurred vision, she manages to make out Eretria's face in the darkness.
Lyria clings to her for dear life, weeping into the rover's chest as she feels one hand come under her shirt to rub her back and the other gently stroking her hair. Sobbing turns into light hyperventilation as she struggles to get the words out.
"What? Lyri, what are you saying?"
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. She's choking now, stumbling on her own sentence. I'm sorry, I'm sorry - "I-I'm sorry." Her eyes are shut, scared of the unconvinced eyes she'll see when she opens them. "Eretria I'm s-so so, sorry-"
"Shhh, come here," Eretria brings the both of them down from their upright position into the welcoming covers, holding her girlfriend close and pulling blankets over them. Lyria is still crying, and saying the same apology, but starts to calm down as Eretria continues to soothe her. "I know, I know," she says, and the crying girl hopes that maybe, just maybe Eretria will understand.
Her shaking subsides and whimpering turns to haste breaths, gasps for air. And after a few minutes of quieting down, Lyria feels the brunette plant a small kiss on her temple. "I'm right here."
The princess's mind finally pacifies as she drifts off to sleep.
When Lyria wakes the next morning, much before sunrise, she feels Eretria's arms still wrapped around her. She stays still. Lyria knows that it has been so long since she's woken up to her girlfriend's embrace, and at this point, she has no idea where they will go from here. If this was only a one time thing, if Eretria only did it out of pity - she has no clue. So she tucks her head into the rover's chest and closes her eyes once more.
She decides to hold onto this moment before it slips away.
Waking up to the glistening sunlight and no company, Lyria rubs the sleep out of her puffy eyes. The events of the night before flood her memory, but before she has time to process them, the rover who has her heart walks through the door. She carries two bowls of what her lover presumes to be their breakfast, and Lyria feels the warm feeling of being cared for that she almost completely forgot.
The princess is frozen in place, not knowing how to respond to Eretria coming to sit down on the bed's spot next to her. Eretria bites her lip in what appears to be nervousness and looks up, and the two finally make clear eye contact. Then, she moves one of the bowls towards Lyria. "Mareth told me you like this one better."
The bowl of slop-like porridge is a slightly lighter color than the other. Lyria takes it with gratitude and softly smiles. "She was right."
As Lyria takes her first spoonful of the odd substance, Eretria promptly asks "Are you alright?"
And Lyria thinks to herself, Am I? "I'll try to be."
The brunette averts her eyes and begins to fidget, a mannerism Lyria is all too familiar with. "I'm sorry too."
"It was my fault, Eretria-"
"You didn't have a choice and you did what you needed to do." Lyria meets her eyes. "Listen... I hate that you kept this from me, for so long-"
"Eretria-"
"But telling me at the time it came out would have given us more problems in the long run. I understand that now." The air feels especially heavy on the tense women. "I should have been more understanding in the first place. I shouldn't have given you the cold shoulder." She pauses her movements completely. "I'm sorry. For ignoring you, for all of it, I... It was just a lot to take in."
The princess takes Eretria's hand. "I'm sorry I had to lie to you."
"You were doing what you thought was best." Eretria has an almost lachrymose look on her face but recovers and gently squeezes Lyria's hand. She looks up, and offers a small smile with love laced between. "We're heading out soon. I'll give you some space." Lyria wishes she wouldn't.
The rover continues to eat from her bowl as she gets up and walks to exit the room.
"Eretria, wait."
She stops and turns to face Lyria.
"Thank you. For last night."
Eretria pauses, then simply nods before walking out.
That night, the two get ready for bed with little to no words spoken between them. When they are both settled under the sheets, Lyria spends what seems like an hour debating if she should do what she wants to do at this moment. She finally decides to, and turns to inch into Eretria's arms. Which, to her surprise, welcome her quickly. Lyria breathes a sigh of relief.
Minutes pass, but just before Lyria thinks sleep is about to consume her, Eretria breaks from the embrace. Lyria adjusts her position to find Eretria looking into her eyes with a sleepy, softened gaze. She leans down and places a chaste kiss on Lyria's lips, and the princess closes her eyes thinking about how she has missed kissing her more than she could ever attempt to quantify. She reciprocates, and moves to fully wrap her arms around the rover. Their kisses deepen, but Lyria forces herself to stop - the reconstruction of everything must come slow. She returns to her previous position. Eretria's hand separates from her cheek and moves to trace patterns on her girlfriend's back until they both drift off to sleep.
They're walking through the woods again with the group, two days later, and suddenly Eretria approaches Lyria from the side with a pink flower. Clearly hand-picked just now, Lyria observes to her amusement, with still some remains of dirt on the stem. "Stay put for a second."
Lyria does, and Eretria moves in front of her, tucking a strand of blonde-brown hair away from her face and inserting the flower behind her ear. "What are you doing?"
"I thought you would look pretty." Eretria's voice is so sheepish that it makes Lyria forget they live in a post-apocalyptic nuclear hellscape.
"Are you saying I don't already look pretty?"
"Well..." Lyria's eyebrows raise and she walks away but Eretria quickly catches up. "I guess I should have said extra pretty."
For the first time in a long time, Lyria laughs.
And it's radiant.
A little over a week has passed since Queen Tamlin of Leah was officially pronounced dead.
The princess attempts to organize her scattered emotions regarding her mother here and there. It's a lot easier, she's gathered, when she doesn't have to go at it alone.
Lyria is completing her nightly ritual of undoing her braid in front of the makeshift mirror when she feels Eretria's hands over hers. "Let me."
Smiling, she does, and rests her arms as her lover takes care of her hair for her. Eretria doesn't hesitate to pepper kisses on her neck as she progresses. But when she finally finishes, Lyria turns around and leans in for the passionate kiss they've both been waiting all day for. They feel each other's smiles as Lyria pulls her closer and Eretria cups her cheeks lovingly.
When they finally do break apart, Lyria's smile is infectious. "Would you say we're back to normal now?."
"I guess so." Eretria giggles, something Lyria didn't think she was capable of doing. "Anything else you want to tell me?"
Lyria is about to say no, but is caught up in the way her girlfriend's loving chocolate brown eyes feel like the home she's never had. Eretria, who fought an army to keep her safe and rescue her from Leah. Who, through both of their mistakes, is willing to reconstruct their trust. Who has always been the one that sparked her heart like no other.
She knows what she wants to say to Eretria. And those three words are on the tip of her tongue.