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Marjory was starting to believe she may have reached Scarlet levels of insanity. At any moment she could have chosen to be wearing clothes that didn’t stink of gore, breathing air that wasn’t thick with screams and bloody smoke. Yet here she was, still standing, though the buildings around her looked about as ruined as she felt.
Determination alone couldn’t have kept her standing at this point; hundreds of civilian dead were lending her their strength, and with their power adding to her magic she could move if she was careful. She could even slam Mendel’s dagger into the torso of a toxic knight or five if she didn’t mind spurts of immeasurable pain, but doing either whilst breathing was proving difficult.
They’d been fighting to keep this path open for the Six knew how long. Scarlet may have been dead, and Operation Detox may have been a success so far, but the remaining occupying forces seemed endless. The Lionguard had helped most survivors to safety, but the people being carried out now were more battered than her ribs, and they needed all the help they could get.
Her body ached, her eyes were raw with smoke, her head was thick with pain. But every person they saved was one less scream to haunt her.
She let her head tip back against the brick of the inn behind her, giving up the pretense of staying on watch for the toxic alliance’s inevitable return. Soon, there’d be more pain, and more death, and more abandoned, rotting corpses to stare accusingly at the acrid sky. But for the moment they’d driven the enemy back, and for now, she could lean against fire-warmed brick, and wait for Kas to return.
“Jory?!” Kasmeer’s voice was wild with fright, and her eyes opened slower than she wanted them to.
She didn’t remember the exact process of sitting down, but Kas was standing above her with a hand pressed against her chest to suppress her hiccups, so she supposed she must have.
Excellent detective work, as always, Miss Delaqua.
She touched the dirt next to her, her fingers curling into air for Kas to take. “Sit, honey, while we have a minute.”
Kas looked particularly unimpressed, but she dropped to the ground, holding her staff against scuffed knees with one fist and clutching at Jory’s outstretched hand with the other, her knuckles whitening around both. “Were you asleep?”
“My eyes just hurt from the smoke, love.” It was at least half true, but the tips of Kas’ fingers dug into the the back of her hand in response. Kas had proven herself particularly adept at telling lies from truth, recently. A mesmer thing, she supposed. It wasn’t that it had never come in handy, it was just highly inconvenient when it extended to her.
A hiccup was her only audible answer, and when Jory chanced a look at her she was glaring at an outcrop of rock, like she could find Scarlet in there and kill her again.
Rox had caught her up on what happened, after Scarlet had - by some miracle - managed to find something to slam her skull against that was harder than her head itself. To Rox’s credit she’d managed to sound only a little jealous when she spoke of Kas’ mad charge. Going for a dangerous madwoman when she was injured and on the ground was one thing, but what Kas had done...
“What?” Kas said, without turning towards her. Her mouth was set, and she was watching the hills for enemies with an intense focus.
Even if her father’s death hadn’t changed the course of her life, and they hadn’t had the last few months together, Jory was almost certain Kas would still have managed to be here today. Helping to save refugees (and abandoned animals - gods knew what would be done with them, and thank the gods that wasn’t Jory’s problem), doing half crazy but entirely brave stunts to rid the world of one of the most vile creatures to ever walk Tyria.
And finding the time to wake her up and save her life while she was at it, probably.
“Do you know, I don’t think you could have honestly changed this much. I think I just can’t have been paying close enough attention, in the beginning.”
Making Kas blush was one of Jory’s favourite things to do, and it was almost enough to offset what was shaping up to be one of her least favourite situations. Their eyes met, and Kas hiccuped again, looking away and driving the butt of her staff into the dirt.
Jory watched the dust settle and sighed involuntarily, regretting it immediately as a sharp pain lanced through her. Her body froze against it, and she had to fight for her next breath.
“Jory,” Kas’ voice was a soft plea, and the sight of her, her face stark and her eyes shining with a hopeless fear, sank into the dark place inside her from where terrors were pulled in the longest hours of the night. “You should be at home. You nearly fell asleep. What if-”
“Did you find any clean water?” Her voice sounded far more brusque than she’d intended, and Kas stopped mid-sentence. Her jaw was clenched over words that would probably be sensible and definitely go ignored, before she heaved a frustrated sigh and handed over the waterskin instead.
Jory would feel guilty, but she was far too tired to feel much of anything but glad to be sitting, drinking water that tasted only faintly of ash, with the solid, warm weight of Kas’ hand in hers. She passed the water back, letting her eyes close again. They did hurt, whatever Kas may have thought.
And that horrible haunted fear in Kas’ eyes was far more painful than anything else Scarlet had done to her.
Her axe was halfway from its belt loop before she’d registered that the soft touch to her face was unlikely to have come from someone trying to kill her. “You are awake,” Kas said, almost sounding amused, catching up something from her skin with a strip of fabric and delicately folding it over. She tossed it away, and used the last of the water to wash something that felt concerningly sticky from her cheek.
“Do I want to know what that was?”
“Just a bit of fluff,” Kas said, grinning at her, even as her nose was still wrinkled in disgust.
For the sake of her ribs, she had to suppress her laughter, but her smile felt comfortable on her face. She may have been worried for Kas’ safety, but having her warm support next to her was a reminder of a future that she could hear even over the clamour of the dead souls around them.
Kas hiccuped, and Jory’s smile slipped.
“Sorry.” Kas looked away, worrying at her lip between her teeth.
Jory ran her thumb over the back of her hand. “Kas-”
There was a shout from the west, and the twang of an arrow loosed in premature fear. Jory groaned, seeing the serpentine figures in the distance, bright against the burnt grass.
“That time again. We’ll talk later,” Kas said. It was a grim demand that there would be a later, but she shimmered as a copy split from her to extend a hand, her real self running towards the oncoming battle before Jory had even managed to stand, much less reassure her.
She took out her weapons as Kas’ copy faded, taking a breath and letting the ghosts of Lion’s Arch fill her with their need for revenge, igniting the magic within her until the adrenaline banished the worst of her pain.
*
It wasn’t until a voice screamed the words ‘Lion’s Arch is ours once more!’ that Marjory understood why she’d been fruitlessly searching for something to put a weapon in.
Kas was by her elbow in a second, and she tried not to sag too noticeably against her. Her stomach was roiling, but her head felt weak enough that she knew she would have to eat. “Do you think we could see if they have rations left, this time?”
“I know we haven’t seen it in a while, but I do think we have something better than rations at our house.” Her smile was tired, and there were streaks of ash across her brow, but the cold fear had softened from her face.
“Our…” Jory looked again, at the crushed bodies on the ground, and the free, wide open space around them. The ragged cheer swelled as it dawned on everyone that this time, this final time, there were no stains of darkness retreating into the distance. “Oh, thank Grenth.”
Relief workers were already visible, stopping at the entrance to the city to take in the destruction. There was much more to do, but Scarlet was gone, and the bodies of her broken army showed they’d done more than their share today.
Jory didn’t have it in her to protest when Kas took her hand, and they followed the limping remainder of the Lionsguard out of their reclaimed city.
*
Sunlight was warming her face, and the bed was empty beside her. For a moment she almost thought she was back in her parents’ home, sharing an east-facing room with her sisters and never managing to sleep past dawn. But there was a hum of a very awake city outside of her window, and there were healing spells in the fabric of her bed that hadn’t been there when she’d gone to sleep. Her muscles protested as she moved, but she made it to her feet with just a dull ache in her ribs.
She traced a finger over her sheet, a small furrow in her forehead. How Kas had found the silver for that… gold, even? That was expensive magic, and its price would have spiked sharply with the increase in demand.
Kas was sitting in the kitchen, transcribing a mess of statements onto a separate, far more legible piece of paper. She didn’t seem to hear her come in, but her head tipped back into her chest when she put her arms around her, and Jory hummed, kissing her hairline. Kas’ hand reached for hers, and she stood, her lips still pressed against Kas’ hair, closing her eyes and breathing for a long moment.
She was almost able to feel the prayer in Kas’ hand clutching desperately at hers.
“How are you feeling?” Kas asked with a hiccup, tilting her head to look up at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but Jory couldn’t tell if it was from yesterday’s smoke or today’s tears. There was a small burn on her forehead, and a long, shallow slice along the hand she was holding.
“Better than I should be, darlin’,” Jory told her, thumbing the pale skin below her burn. “How are you? Does this hurt?”
“There’s enough medical supplies to go around, don’t worry about me,” Kas said, standing to loop her arms about her neck.
Jory allowed herself to be distracted, the warm comfort of Kas’ lips settling her whole world into a far more normal shape. “None of that, now,” Jory said, after letting it go on for long enough that Kas just laughed at her. “How exactly did you pay for these supplies, Lady Kasmeer?”
“Why, Miss Delaqua, whatever are you implying? I have quite a talent for bartering, thank you.”
“Nobody is that good, my love. Not even you.”
“Blasphemer,” Kas told her, with an affected sniff of reproach that had Jory laughing. She waited for a real answer, and Kas’ eyes rolled. “You don’t need to use your interrogation face on me, Jory.”
Jory’s eyebrows hiked sharply. “Interrogation face?” she asked, making an intentional face in response, half to cover her alarm. Kas had been hiccuping at odd intervals ever since she’d first met her, but she could only remember her hiccups being this consistent right before Kas had kissed her, the first time. She’d told her later that it was the most scared she’d ever been, and Jory was quite sure it was worse now than it had been then.
It was scaring her.
Kas looked a little abashed, her fingers going to smooth down the front of Jory’s sleeping shirt, lifting it from her ribs carefully. “It seems that word of our assistance has spread. I insisted on paying, of course…” There was a worried frown on her face, and she was tracing the air above the mottled bruising, her fingers a half inch from her skin. Jory’s fingers pulled hers towards the bruise, pressing them carefully, but firmly against her ribs and smiling as she saw the frown lift. “It could be good for business, I suppose.” Kas let her shirt drop, but kept her hand in Jory’s, pressed against her skin, and Jory could almost feel her heart try and beat to reach her.
She cleared her throat before she put that into words - too many healing spells and not enough food, that was her problem. “How’s Braham?”
“I haven’t heard news since before we scattered the last of her forces. When I last spoke to Rox, she was going to report to Rytlock, and then if she wasn’t wanted there…” Kas hesitated, and Jory’s fingers tightened over hers. It was difficult to support a friend’s dream when it meant them walking away from something that was working so well for them all, and they’d been managing mostly by avoiding speaking of it. “Then she’d see what our plans were.”
“In that case,” Jory said, looking at the papers spread about the table, recognising their efforts to discover E’s identity. “We’d better get started on a plan, hadn’t we?”
Kas hummed, her face a picture of innocence. “Those medical spells are worth a lot of money. We should get their full use, but I can bring these through.” Jory’s eyes narrowed at her. She could easily have attached those spells to anything other than her bed, and she was about to open her mouth and say as much when Kas touched her cheek. “Please, love. You need to rest.”
“Crafty,” Jory said. “But I’ll go without complaint, as long as you bring the papers. And some food. And something to write with. And something to write on.” Jory paused for a moment, as if considering. “And I suppose you can bring yourself, if you like.”
“You’re just full of requests, aren’t you?” Kas asked, her lips twitching as she failed to hide her smile.
“Please?” Jory tried, with a grin that only widened as Kas attempted to shoo her from the room.
*
They shared the offcuts of a tarragon stuffed chicken, poring over notes scattered around their bed until Jory’s eyes ached. Her head tilted to find Kas’ shoulder, listening to her summarise a conversation she'd had with a merchant that was impossibly boring, and only vaguely relevant. Despite the hiccups, her voice was even and soft, and her fingers were making absent patterns on the nape of her neck. The urge to close her eyes and let her mind drift was irresistible, and she didn't notice as Kas started the same paragraph for the third time, her voice warm with fond amusement.
*
Jory curled her toes against clean sheets, the buzz of conversation gaining clarity as she woke. Rox’s rumble was easy to pick, and she blinked the sleep from her eyes, her body pulling back into something that felt almost healthy as she stretched.
She stopped, her hand on the doorknob and her head tilting to the side as she listened. The hiccups that had been interrupting Kas’ every sentence had disappeared, and a smile stretched over her face.
The door opened on Rox saying, “You’ve more guts than stew from winter’s last dolyak-”
Kas’ face dipped into disgust, and Jory laughed under her breath as she saved her. “Good to see you, Rox. How’s Braham?” Jory didn’t ask what had happened with Rytlock and the Stone Warband. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know anything beyond Rox being here now.
“He’s healing. He’ll be as annoying as ever in a few days time.” Rox looked like she wanted to ask how she was coping, and Jory’s arms crossed defensively.
“I owe you a drink,” she said, before Rox could put that thought into words, knowing that if Rox was here instead of out on the request of Rytlock, she owed her a lot more than that.
Rox harrumphed. “Make it a bottle of Hylek Absinthe and we’ll call it even.”
Kas had turned to clean their kitchen, and Rox was still looking at her piercingly, like she thought she knew exactly what she was thinking. “The first major battle is always harder than the first touch of a whelp’s co-”
“Rox!” Kas said, scandalised and proper, a flush rising up her cheeks. Rox grinned at Jory’s laughter, and Kas flapped the drying cloth at them both, a reluctant smile on her face. Jory tried to catch her eye, but she turned back to cleaning with a fervour that almost seemed like she was avoiding her.
“Meet us later at Dead End?” Rox said, abruptly serious again. “We should celebrate the victory.”
“So many dead,” Kas said, her hands flattening against the bench of their kitchen. “I’m not sure I can celebrate that.”
“It’s important to remember them, and we’ll drink for the people we lost. But it’s just as important that we lived. You're allowed to be thankful for that.”
Jory could see the memory of the cave-in play over Rox’s gruff face, and she nodded. “We’ll be there, Rox. With a bottle of Hylek Absinthe in hand.”
“Good. It’s the only thing Braham says he doesn’t drink, so perhaps I’ll even get to taste it.”
“Braham will be there? His leg-”
Rox actually looked confused. “Of course. Even if you cut the mouth right off their face, those giants would find a way to drink.”
“Alright, we’ll see you there,” Kas said, a half smile on her face. Rox nodded, taking Kas into a hug and saying something too soft for Jory to catch. Kas nodded, a little of the tension seeping from her smile, and Rox turned to Jory, clapping her on the arm. “You’re both scrappers. You’ll be fine.”
The door closed on her wave, and Jory turned. Kas was definitely avoiding her now - she was fussing with a bowl of fruit, her hair covering the lines of her face.
“Kas…” Jory said, stepping to touch the small of her back with a light hand. Her shoulders tensed as she took a breath, and she turned to look at her, her breath escaping with the first hiccup she'd given since Jory had woken.
Jory felt a wave of helplessness sweep over her - stronger than anything she’d felt in Lion’s Arch. At least in Lion’s Arch she’d been able to stick a knife in things until they stopped. That method was unfortunately useless here. “Kas…” She repeated, and a little of the horror she was feeling must have shown in her voice, because if anything Kas just looked more miserable.
“I’m sorry,” Kas said, her fingers tracing over her cheek. She was still hiccuping, but it was better than avoiding looking her entirely, and Jory shook her head wordlessly. “Every time I look at you, I just… Dwayna help me, you were dead Jory.”
“No, I wasn’t. I’m fine. See?” Jory said, spreading her arms and doing a short twirl, stretching her face into a smile. “Really,” she said, her voice lowering. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”
“I feel like such a fraud,” Kas whispered. “When I went out… people were calling us heroes. Me.”
“Well, love, that’s what you get for killing the most wanted villain in all of Tyria.”
“But I didn’t kill her. Not really. I just got scared and mad and stupid.”
“Maybe that’s all heroism is. Scared, and angry, and stupid.” Kas was looking very doubtful, and Jory rested the backs of her fingers against her cheeks. “All Braham and I did was go after a wounded madwoman when she looked half dead on the floor. You saw what she did to us, and then went after her anyway. You’re the most heroic of all of us.”
“I’m scared all the time. In my mind, for a few minutes you were dead, and it--” she stopped, having to breathe out slowly. “Jory, I can’t lose you like that again.”
“I can’t promise otherwise, love, you know that. Scarlet was too clever - we have to believe that her plans really didn’t stop with her death.”
“Can you promise it anyway?” Kas asked, with a tired sort of smile that meant she knew she wouldn’t. She let out a breath, running her fingers through her hair and looking past her. “Let’s just retire. Move somewhere really far away…”
“And if we hear Tyria is in need of help, you would be fine with just staying there? Far away?”
Kas sighed, her face tipping into her shoulder. “No,” she said, her words a muffled groan.
“Hero,” Jory told her, kissing the top of her hair, relieved to hear the hiccups lessen, just a little.
“You don’t know what it was like. Thinking you were dead.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and Jory’s arms wrapped around her shoulders as they started to shake.
“Oh, Kas, honey,” Jory said, hearing her own voice break over her name. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I would have done if it’d been you.” It was likely to have involved some level of tearing the veil between here and the mists, and damn all the consequences, but that was probably about as useful a thing to say as the inadequate circles she was stroking along Kas' back.
Her palm was pressing into the tenderest part of her ribs, but she didn’t move, making small, helpless noises of reassurance until she could feel her take a shaky breath. “And anyway, even if I had died," Jory said, trying to sound as nonchalant about the prospect as possible, "I'm not about to let you get out of our life together. I’d have come back to haunt for you for the rest of your days, my dear.” Jory smiled at the wispy curls at the side of her face until she turned, her eyes sad and lost.
“Oh, Jory. You wouldn’t need to be a ghost to do that.”
Jory felt her breath stutter and warm in her chest, and when Kas leant to kiss her, it was with an almost fierce need to prove something to herself. Jory traced her fingers down her arms, linking their hands and slowing the kiss until just their foreheads were pressed together, breathing each other's air. “Rox is right,” she told her. “We did something good - great, even. Scarlet is dead, Lion’s Arch is back with its people, and we're both alive. We should celebrate that.”
“It’s still a bit early to be drinking, Jory,” Kas said, with a small laugh, running a hand over eyes that were bright with her recent tears. Her voice was more natural, and Jory's fingers relaxed their hold of her.
“That burn looks fairly nasty,” Jory said, grinning and tracing the mark across her brow that was now barely visible. “Someone told me we have a bed full of expensive healing spells that we should take full advantage of.”
Kas was laughing before she’d finished, and she flicked the pin holding Jory’s hair up with her finger. “Jory?”
“Yes, darlin'?” Jory asked, with the most irresistable smile she could conjure.
“I really love you.” She said it without a single hiccup, and the importance of the battle for Lion's Arch faded as Kas' smile was pressed firmly against her lips.
*
Jory wished she could have said that it stopped immediately. She wished she could have taken the weight of that battle from Kas - from them both - with one conversation and a kiss. It lessened, but some nights still, months later, she woke from a half-remembered nightmare, her mouth tasting like ash, to find their room full of spirits she’d called to her in her sleep. Some nights she’d wake and Kas’ hand would be anchoring her to the bed as she curled against her, her other hand pressed against her own chest helplessly, hiccuping for minutes on end.
She didn’t know if those nights would ever leave their bed, but some days she would say something and Kas’ smile would wash warm waves of contentment over Jory’s whole being. She would think I put that there, and it would fill her with a giddy, ridiculous, happiness. Some days a case would be going nowhere, and she’d walk in with a glower, and Kas would touch the inside of her elbow with two fingers and have coaxed her into helpless laughter within minutes.
And every morning she’d wake to a hand curled against her shoulder, and a knee slung across her hips because Kas could never understand that she wasn’t a pillow, sneezing because her hair had been tickling her nose all night and her body had only just woken up enough to notice.
Some days she didn’t know what she’d do without her. Some days she knew they weren’t living in a time where either of them could promise to see tomorrow, and some days that terrified her.
But so far, even their worst nights had ended with hair in her face and a sneeze, and really, that was all she could ever ask.