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“Did you mean it?”
In the silent border before sleep within the cooling bedroom of the modified ‘nascent Nein-sided tower’ a voice quieter than normal asked out hesitantly to the only other presence in the room as Beauregard lies motionless in their bed.
She hasn’t drifted to sleep yet either, her mind still ablaze with the realities of everything that has happened tonight – including that nagging voice in the back of her mind that was warning of a sentence just like this.
“What you said earlier; did you mean it?” the smaller women lying beside her partially clarifies, still much quieter than she’d been all day.
The bed sags a little as Yasha sits up, the small motion beside is just Beau keeping herself from shifting with the change she notes through her Darkvision as she orients herself to be sitting now beside her… Girlfriend – well, she hopes to Kord she is, and this isn’t that.
Bringing her face closer to Beau’s, she watches the Monk follow her silhouette as her lips near her shoulder in silent question. They meet the toned skin softly; access granted. And so, she wastes no time now, peppering a series of kisses gently across her skin, familiar scars, the edge of a faintly glowing jade tattoo.
“I meant every word tonight.” She finally answers in adoration as her lips travel closer to their counterpart.
Their quickly expedited though when a hand reaches for her cheek and directs their lips together. Separating after a blissful moment, she watches Beau pull back as a small chuckle escapes her, “God, Yash, I sure hope you were serious about that; I’d be honestly impressed at this point if you were pretending about the feelings for me.”
It would certainly have been her greatest deception yet, she agrees as they let the moment exist before her girlfriend’s face falls visibly anxious once more.
“Its fine if it was just words, but…” she hesitates for a moment, finding Yasha’s heterochromatic eyes in the dark before finally asking,
“Did you mean it when you said you were proud of me.”
Ah, this question. There’s a slight pleading in the gaze that stares back at her in anticipation for the answer.
She doesn’t answer right away, reaching off to the side of the bed to find anything small – she can feel the pair of blue eyes watching her movements as she grabs the closet item, her coin purse. Slipping out a coin she keeps the purse handy as she turns back and channels what innate Aasimar magic she has into it, casting the room into a soft white glow.
She can make out the small pinprick of tears in the corners of her eyes now, as Beau works to keep her composure in check – Yasha swears she can feel a bit of her heart break at the sight as she reaches for her hands and brings her steadily up to sit up beside her.
Gently cupping Beaus hands in hers now, she looked up into those beautiful blue eyes and smiled.
“Everyone wants to make their dad proud; you know? Just hoping… he could…, he could show some of that.”
She hadn’t meant to hear those words. Truly she hadn’t; it wasn’t like she had decided to eavesdrop on the separate conversation that Fjord had just now been striking up with Beau but through the time at the Gentlemen’s lair, she’d caught it at the corner of her eye, and it had branded itself around her heart and demanded she catch it her peripherals.
And as a result, even amidst the winding down conversation of catchphrases and boastings, she’d heard those words from her like a prayer.
Why wouldn’t someone be proud of her; She was an incredibly capable women on the battlefield, could hold her own against the best. She didn’t know a great amount about the parental custom within the empire, but should a parent not be proud of that – to know they could defend themselves?
Even regardless of that, just considering the experience last week, within the capital. The Nein staring down the ruler of this land and Beau took the lead in turning the entire conversation around for them. Turning what could of amounted to treason into a path to leverage another of the Beacons the dynasty were devoted to away from those assembly members; that ‘Icky-thong’ guy.
How could someone not think she was incredible – and to be an expositor now in the time that she was… indisposed, she didn’t know much of the path Beau had walked to get there but the steps she took were her own – and not because of what her father had apparently set into motion.
It would be time soon to head for her hometown, they will probably meet him, she knows. And If he doesn’t think her worthy of pride, then she will do it for him.
She doesn’t believe him.
She’s watching him with as they ready to go, silently wishing she could have the power to bring a bolt from the heavens down upon him.
She doesn’t believe a word of it – there is not pride in his tone when he speaks of her deeds; in the words he says and has said to women leaving now on the verge of ruin, or to them about the sacrifices and excuses he’s made.
He’s not proud of her accomplishments – he’s glad his ‘investments’ paid off. She could see the pain on Beau’s face, her having been brought to that same conclusion possibly much earlier than that – Stormlord, probably earlier than today or this week or likely even decade.
She hasn’t felt this kind of rage in a long time – seething outside of the pain-numbing kind and the need to make something hurt – not physically, at least not yet.
She will make sure he understands, she promises as she makes for the doorway out into the dull skies. And one day, when she is strong enough and worthy enough…
She will say what he never could to the Jade Lioness, Expositor Beauregard Lionett.
“Yasha?”
“I meant every word of it, Beau.” She declares in the artificial light, unblinkingly as the pinprick tear begin to well. She wasted no time pulling her close into a crushing embrace.
“I love you, Beau – and so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished so far. And if he has to tack some crap with it and never say it truly, then I will make up for it ten-fold.”
This is her promise, and she will not break it.