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Ashton waits until Laudna’s breathing has slowed and remained steady for nearly an hour before he gets up. He moves her head—cradled on his lap—to rest on his bedroll, slowly and gently, so as not to wake her. Their skin prickles through their clothes, fatigued from so much contact. Laudna had needed the comfort, though, so it is what it is.
Deni$e and Prism are both asleep nearby, so Ashton isn’t too worried about them. Isn’t worried about Deni$e at all, really. She seems the type to be able to handle this shit. And Prism…they’d made sure she didn’t see it happen, at least. Hopefully that counts for fucking something.
Orym, on the other hand…Ashton hasn’t seen him since he dropped the locket on Bor’Dor’s chest and walked away. We’re at war. Ashton knows he’s right. He also knows Orym’s never been okay with killing when there’s another choice. Not until lately. It scares him. Not because he has a problem with killing. They’d have done it, if they felt like it needed to be done. Like no one else could or would.
No, what scares them is that this is Orym.
They stand slowly, groaning under their breath at the way their joints pop. Fuck. They rub at their hip, where Laudna’s head had rested against an impact point, the shards of skin and gold more painful there. That scares them too. How much they’re willing to hurt for these people. It’s a sick kind of foreshadowing, Ashton knows. Caring about anyone has literally always ended in disaster, but here they fucking are again.
They shove it down; the pain and the dread. They’re here now. Might as well fucking try.
They find Orym outside, as they expected. He’s not hiding in a tree this time, doesn’t make any move to conceal himself as Ashton walks stiffly beside him. He doesn’t greet them either; just keeps staring at the moons. Ruidus is still anchored to Exandria with that beam of crimson light. It takes Ashton longer to find Catha, its pale glow usually right next to Ruidus. On its own in the sky it's easier to miss.
Orym is perched on a rock just outside the cave. There isn’t space for Ashton to sit next to him without being too close for comfort right now, so he leans against the stone at his back instead, not saying anything for a long moment.
The truth is he doesn’t know what to say. They’ve never claimed to be good at this shit. All they know is it’s part of being in a group. You have to check in on each other. And if no one else is going to do it, then it falls to Ashton.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Orym says, finally, while Ashton is still wrestling with what to say. He must have assumed their silence was a tactic, and Ashton rolls with it. Whatever fucking works.
“I don’t really wanna talk about it either.” They admit, letting their discomfort bleed into their words. “I’m shit at talking. Still gotta do it. Like when you force kids to eat their fucking vegetables.” Ashton doesn’t remember anyone ever doing that for him. Greymoore hadn’t exactly had a high supply of fresh food, nor did the caretakers have time to fuss over how much of it they were eating. Besides, no one in the Home had really needed much encouragement to eat whatever was on their plate. But they think Orym gets the idea.
“Look, what we said the other day, that if we see each other fall we pick each other up...” He gives Orym a long look. “I saw what happened back there. I’m not judging, because I think we did the right fucking thing. But I also don’t think it was you. ”
“What do you want me to say, Ash?” Orym asks, voice quiet and small. He thinks about what he overheard the other night, between Orym and Deni$e. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so small.
Ashton feels bigger than they ever have. Like someone is actually watching, for the first time in their life. Only they’ve realized no one who can do anything about all this shit cares enough to actually do it. They’re fucking pissed. They think Orym is, too.
“I dunno.” They shrug. “That you’re angry? That you’re hurt? That you know what you want to do next? That you don’t have a fucking clue. I just need to know where your head’s at.”
Orym looks at him for the first time. His green eyes are smoldering, and rimmed with red. In the dim light Ashton can’t tell if he’s holding back tears or if he’s already shed them.
“My head’s at war.” Orym breathes, through his teeth, like he wants to shout it but if he does he’ll never stop. Ashton knows that feeling. “That body in there…he was a person. He lost people. And he was angry.” He shakes his head. “But I just don’t think that’s a good enough reason, anymore. Not for what his people did to my family.” He looks away. “The gods failed him. The gods fail everybody. I was so angry at them, after…” His voice breaks, and Ashton nods. He doesn’t need Orym to finish the sentence to know what he means. After the attack on Zephrah. After Derrig. After Will. Ashton has plenty of their own afters. And their own unanswered prayers.
Ashton lets out a slow breath, feeling anger move warm and slow within them, like magma stirring the core of the earth. “But we don’t go around killing people about it.” He finishes, nodding.
There’s a heavy silence between them. Until now, Ashton can feel them both thinking.
“Laudna will be okay.” Ashton says, and if they’re being honest with themself, it's as much to convince them as it is to convince Orym. Everything they went through to try to free her from Delilah, and they’d both just let her open that door again. Guilt twists through them.
But then, what doors to their past would they not open, if it meant protecting this group? That fear spikes in their heart again. None. They’d offered themself to Jiana again, asked after the Nobodies, fuck, they’re looking into the Hishari, and they’re still not sure if that’s something they want to know or not. But if that’s what it takes to fix all of this…no one else is going to fucking do it. That much Ashton is sure of.
“I don’t know if any of us will be okay.” Orym murmurs, looking up at the tethered red moon again. “But it's worth it, right?” He glances at Ashton again.
They wish they had fucking answers. They have no idea what makes Orym believe they do. They look at the moon. Fuck the gods. Fuck Predathos. Fuck Ludinus fucking Da’Leth. Ashton’s choosing their own life now, fate be fucking damned. “It’s worth it, because we decide it is.” He says, trying to sound like he believes it.
Orym doesn’t respond.