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Once again, Ri’kara sighed tiredly, trudging through the door and stretching as she folded her coat and left it in the storeroom. It was dark outside and in, the house silent as she turned the lights on; at least she could be by herself for a while.
She needed to contact someone from Aiur; that urge had gripped her ever since she’d told Iruna about her homesickness. After that fight with Alarak the day before… She needed advice.
The idea had, at least, perked her up. Thanks to the time discrepancies and her training, it had been difficult to get hold of anyone.
“If Inzar isn’t available then you could probably get some more of that project done, at least…”
Kneeling in front of the low table in the living room, she lit some incense to relax herself and directed her attention to the screen inset into the wall opposite, hoping it wasn’t too early or late.
By some miracle, Inzar answered, a warm, wrinkled smile crossing his features as soon as he saw who it was. Aiur’s morning sunrise was hitting the wall behind him, and she made a mental note to keep that in mind for the next time she called in.
“Hi, Inzar.” Ri’kara couldn’t help but smile back despite her tiredness; his joy was always so infectious.
“Riri! You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“So are you; it’s so nice to see you. Are you alright? How is everyone?”
“We’re all just fine here. The young ones miss their aunt ‘Kara, but I’ll record a bit of you saying hello for them if you want.”
“Just tell them that I love them very much; I’m missing having them running around.”
He laughed softly. “Don’t worry about that; they’re as much of a handful as ever. Ni’och and Xin have gone off to learn to be researchers, you know. I think they said it was uh… Botanical? It’s plants, I don’t know much about that.” He laughed softly, but seemed to become teary eyed, blinking for a second as a soft wisp of vapour trailed into the air. “I’ll miss them, but it’s what they want to do and I’m so proud.”
She giggled quietly in turn. “I remember when they were trailing soil in from all the flowers they’d tried to uproot and replant inside.”
“Yeah, and I remember all the visits from Uljia every time they got any sort of weird new rashes.” His next laugh was cheerful, thinking about the trouble the two had got themselves into when they were much smaller, but his smirk was half-hearted.
“… They’ll be alright, Inzar, I promise. They’ll know that you’ll be there for them.”
“I’m just going to miss them so much. They’re the first to go, you know? Some of them are staying with me for longer because they’re still nervous about heading out to do things for themselves, and that’s fine, I’ll keep them with me for as long as they need, but… I didn’t think I’d feel so empty with just two of them going already.”
She gave him a sympathetic smile, head tilting a little. “It’ll hurt for a while until you’re all settled again, but what’s important is that they’re doing what they want to do, right?”
Inzar nodded, waving a hand in front of him for a moment. “I know, I know… I’m just being silly. They’re my kids…” At that, he seemed to perk up, pride lifting his expression before he waved a hand again. “How about you, though, how are you settling in? You look exhausted, not working too hard, right?”
“… It’s fine. Iruna’s thinking about putting me on a few more solo projects before finally letting me onto the production line. She’s really happy with my progress so far.”
“Good; I’m proud of you.”
She smiled, playing with her hands a bit. “And when I have time, I’m going to have to start sorting out the garden. It’s all overgrown and full of weeds. Lots to do.”
It was kind of odd to have it turned on her. In truth, she wanted to hear more about how everyone on Aiur was doing more than she wanted to think about where she was right then, but Inzar continued to push.
“That sounds like when I first settled here. That first month was a blur of thorns and vines.” He laughed softly. “Made any other friends?”
“Iruna has a friend called Izetsi. I’ve said hello a couple of times, but she gets ushered away pretty fast. I guess she’s a bit of a troublemaker, but I like her, I think.”
Then, she remembered something, excitement catching her for just a moment. “Oh! I finally have word that it will be safe for me to travel between here and Aiur very soon. I may organise a small trip once I’m able. It feels like it’s been way too long.”
“Hey now, don’t worry if it’s not all that safe yet, Riri. We miss you, but don’t get yourself hurt or in any trouble.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
“You better keep that promise.” He paused, looking a little unsure about his next question. “And how is… he?”
Ri’kara deflated slightly, a lump forming in her chest.
“It’s gotta be nice having him around, at least, a familiar face and all that.” Inzar gently prompted.
“It’s… Well.” She already felt tears welling in her eyes as all that pent-up emotion started to seize her again. “I did miss him but, Inzar… I’m wondering if I should come back for good.”
His expression fell properly, a twist into sympathy. “Not working out?”
She waved her hands in the air at nothing, not able to look him in the eyes as she tried desperately to calm herself. “I don’t know. I… You know what happened and how hurt I was.”
“… Yeah, I remember.” Inzar’s voice finally dropped some of that cheery quality, and he sighed. “Now you’re there, it’s not as easy to patch it up as you thought it would be, huh?”
“No, it’s really not. It seems more complicated, in fact.” She ran a hand over her crest. “We had a fight. I was just so frustrated at how little he fought back when I… I’ve just been taking my anger out on him constantly.”
He gave her a sympathetic look. “Riri…”
“And I enjoyed it! I hate myself for that, and I feel guilty all the time when I don’t feel weirdly happy to do this to him, and what’s worse is I think he wants to be punished.”
It was all pouring out of her so suddenly, the tears she had been trying to hold back spilling over and lifting into vapour as a sob racked her shoulders. Inzar was silent, pain clear on his face at seeing her cry.
“I guess it makes you feel like you’re getting revenge? And it makes him feel like he’s paying for it?”
“Yeah. I’m sure it’s part of why we haven’t really… spoken about everything yet. It’s easier to be cruel, I’m sure it’s easier to just take it.”
With a sigh, her companion leant back, looking up at the ceiling out of view for a few moments to think before catching her eye again. “I understand, even if it’s really not the way you should be treating him, and it’s not the way he should be reacting… What do you really want from this, Riri? You’re not getting anywhere.”
Ri’kara couldn’t help but let out another sob; the tears wouldn’t stop. “I just want him to say out loud that he made a mistake. I want him to admit that what he did was wrong and that he understands why it hurt me. I don’t care if it wasn’t his intention, it still happened! I want him to be honest like he promised to be.”
There was silence for a little bit as he waited for her to collect herself again.
“And I miss him; I miss how we were… Maybe I’m trying too hard to make everything feel better immediately.”
“You might be. After having someone be there for so long and then have it all get pulled out from under you is like that. You want it back to normal, you know?”
She nodded, tucking her legs against her chest. “I’m sorry, I piled all this on you… I just wanted to see how you were doing.” She tried to wipe her eyes, another sob leaving her unbidden. “The kids too…”
“It’s ok, Riri. That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? Sounds like you haven’t had a talk like this in a while.”
She nodded. “There’s nobody to talk this out with apart from him.”
He gave her a soft, sympathetic smile. “You gotta let go of some of that bitterness, Riri, and I think to start with, you have to talk it out with him. Without yelling, preferably. That doesn’t get anybody anywhere.”
“I know.”
“And I know you. I promise that making all this fuss and being loud about what you want isn’t selfish. You are the last Protoss in this galaxy that can say she is being selfish, yeah?”
“I know that too.”
At that, Inzar properly smiled, another warm and reassuring expression. “Good. Don’t come out here until you’ve made some headway, alright? I wanna see my best friend, we all do, but I also wanna see you happy.”
Finally, she felt calm enough to properly look at him again, giving him a wavering smile. “Thank you, Inzar. You always know what to say.”
He laughed gently. “Hey, I’m not eight hundred and something for nothing. If it doesn’t work out in the end after that talk, then you’re always welcome right back home with us.”
She laughed back just a little. “Of course.”
“I’ll speak to you soon; I need to start getting the little ones up for their sunlight.”
“Alright, Inzar. I love you.”
“I love you too, Riri.”
The panel powered down, and she finished wiping her eyes. The sudden silence now that she was by herself stretched out as her previous tiredness hit her once again like a ton of bricks. All she wanted to do was sleep.
A proper talk… That probably should have happened before she decided to blow up at him. Either way, hindsight was of no use to her now; maybe if they could be civilised about it then there was a chance—
A noise in the hallway suddenly caught her attention, causing her to quickly pull out her knife, hearts hammering.
“Who’s there?” Her voice was more urgent than she intended, suddenly gripped with the idea that someone had managed to get in while she was distracted by her friend and taken by her emotions.
“It is just me.”
Relief washed over her as Alarak came into view. His eyes were on the blade she held, one brow raising.
“Ah, Alarak, you’re back. I…” She quickly put the knife down on the table, placing a hand on her chest. “Don’t come in so silently. I really thought that there was an intruder.”
“… I apologise.”
He didn’t seem to want to make the move to kneel with her, and his expression was… Odd. The creeping realisation took hold in the awkward silence that she hadn’t heard the door open, and she should have in the quiet after her conversation.
“How long have you been in the hallway?”
That seemed to release some tension from his shoulders. “Long enough.”
“… I see. So, you heard all that?”
“Most of it, yes.” It was only then that he knelt opposite her, his only hand idle in his lap. He was careful not to look at her.
“Ah.”
She thought she would have at least another hour to mentally prepare herself for the conversation, not that she would have ever been ready for it. That lump that still sat in her chest only became heavier, and she briefly closed her eyes.
“Your friend is correct; I would say a talk is long overdue.”
Nodding, Ri’kara got more comfortable, trying to get something prepared in her mind. “Yes, well, I—”
The former Highlord immediately held up his hand, stopping her in her tracks.
“… I have made a mistake, Ri’kara. Several, in fact.” Finally, he lifted his head a little, catching her eye despite the intense shame that was burning in his own. “Grievous errors that I have made no attempt to correct.
It is not as though I expected earning your forgiveness to be easy. It is easy to have you inflict the punishment I feel I did not get when I survived, and hope that in time it would be enough.”
“So… I was right. You wanted to die.”
He nodded. “Partially. At least, I did not expect to return and acted on that assumption.”
For a moment, she was stunned into silence, once again thinking about how Arun had outlined what he may have been feeling. If only he had known the full extent.
She shook her head. “Of course going on like this isn’t enough. I don’t even like this. It feels good to hurt you, but it’s easy, and honestly it doesn’t even feel that good. I hate that I feel this way.”
He shrugged. “It is natural. I should not, however, use that to get away from trying. You were correct; I am a coward.”
“At least you admit it.” She sighed. “I want to know everything, Alarak. I want to know why, because I thought that you trusted me.”
“It was not a matter of trust; I do happen to trust you.”
“Then what was it?”
“Obviously, your premonition about Var’gash was correct; I had predicted he would most likely usurp me before he had even won his Rak’Shir—”
The little Tal’darim couldn’t help but let out a growl of frustration. “But you told me there was nothing to worry about! You dismissed me!”
“That was my first mistake. I assumed platitudes would stop you from going mad.”
“… Bastard. Like I wouldn’t go mad anyway.”
Alarak ignored the comment, continuing on with his explanation. “I knew then what had to happen; I had been investigating those pits before I even began my usurpation of Ma’lash should something have gone awry.
All that was left was to ensure that I had an edge over Var’gash; rumour provided much, and so I confronted him.”
“Artanis helped with this?”
“No. I did not inform Artanis of my plan until I had presented my offer and knew that he would take it. I had to be sure, or he would have expected my death as you had.”
That was news to her. When he said he had planned it for months, she had thought he’d told the Hierarch right from the outset, especially with how guilty he had looked when she’d walked through that door.
He scoffed. “As though preparation helped. There were too many variables. Every part of my plan had some way to ensure what I had done would be for nothing. I never allow myself to do something so rash without knowing that I would come out of it the victor, yet I had concocted the equivalent of diving from a cliff backwards.”
His fist clenched, clear frustration colouring his voice as though he were there all over again, spinning in circles trying to find anything that would give him some stability. After a moment, he composed himself, eyes suddenly full of regret.
“My largest concern was you, of course.”
“… Why?”
“I had convinced myself over decades that reciprocation was impossible, even at the solstice and its aftermath. I was a fool to have let such idiocy plague me.”
His shoulders sagged.
“My plan for you, then, was that if you had convinced yourself I was dead, seeing me alive would ensure that you accepted my affection no matter what I had done.
You are not stupid; I have never thought that you were stupid enough to fall for such a thing. It was to make myself feel better, and something that Nerazim would have done to you. I will never forgive myself for such weakness.”
At least he recognised how manipulative that was… “So that’s why you delivered your confession?”
“No; Artanis was supposed to have done that.” He hesitated. “I was selfish. It may have been the last time that I ever saw you; I wanted to take that chance. And I felt it was best that I delivered the confession of both my betrayal and my affections personally.”
His betrayal…? Ri’kara frowned, lifting a hand to hold both clasps and realising what he meant.
“Of course. Giving it back was the way you chose to tell me you had lied.”
“It was a platitude; a sign was easier than saying it aloud. Another mistake.”
Despite the revelations, despite the extent of his mistakes, it felt… Relieving to finally hear the proper version of events, to know exactly what he had been thinking in that last few months before his position was pulled from under him, to know how many of her suspicions had been correct. She stayed quiet, waited for him to continue.
“I did not ever intend to play with your emotions in such a manner, but that is what happened. I was desperate, rash; I did not think clearly in my panic.”
“I think that’s an understatement, Alarak…”
“It may be difficult to believe now, Ri’kara, but it was for you; to be with you no matter the cost. What else would I knowingly risk my life to obtain? I had the power I wanted after I usurped Ma’lash, I had the stability I craved when I turned to Artanis for aid, and yet it was no longer enough. Wishing that my emotions would ‘go away over time’ had never been the solution.
I had become ‘tired’. The one thing Var’gash was correct about. When you told me that we had to pretend; that was when I knew that being Highlord was no longer enough.”
It was odd to hear him spell it out like that; the words on the scrap of paper he had left her hadn’t felt completely real no matter how many times she had read them. Even if he didn’t say it, he couldn’t have laid it out more plainly. Still, something was missing. She thought back to his tight grip on the table, the fear that passed over his eyes as she demanded he at least give her that one thing.
“… Why didn’t you say it?”
“What?”
“When I asked. Why didn’t you say it?”
He hesitated. “I can say it now if you wish—”
She held up a hand quickly, feeling her hearts skip for just a moment. “No. I’ll ask when I want to hear it, Alarak. I just want to know why you didn’t then.”
His eyes narrowed, but there was a resigned sadness to them. “Would it have changed anything?”
“… Maybe. I don’t know. I think I wanted it to.”
“Truthfully, I do not know; I could not. I should have regardless of the outcome.”
Unexpectedly, carefully so as not to upset the furniture, Alarak pulled himself to sit beside her, resting his only hand against hers where they were folded in her lap.
“I am sorry.” He said quietly.
Her eyes welled with tears again. The sincerity in the word that he barely ever used washed over her, and suddenly she was crying. Alarak almost immediately pulled away.
“Are you—?”
“Yes, I am, I just—” She cut herself off with another sob. “Look, from now on, I want to try and… I want us to be friends again, at least—”
“Of course. I swear that I will not lie again.”
It took several more minutes for Ri’kara to finally stop crying. Her companion handed her something to wipe her eyes with and lit a stick of incense for her.
“Thanks.” She patted the tears away and took in the sweet smoke. “… I do want to say sorry for—”
“Do not. You have nothing to apologise for; I exploited your anger to avoid responsibility.”
She nodded. “You’re right, but I still… Feel bad.”
He let out a wry chuckle, finally relaxing where he was sat. “As though you are used to being cruel.”
“I guess.” The little Tal’darim sighed. “It is your fault for the nightmares though.”
“I imagine it is the same one you told me about on Aiur.”
“Yeah…”
Gently, he patted her back. “You may wake me should it plague you again. For now; rest. You look exhausted.”
Again, she gave a nod, standing up carefully and brushing off her robes. She tried to ignore the soft look trained on her; she wasn’t ready for that yet.
“Goodnight.” She said, shuffling out into the hallway.
“Goodnight.”
Alarak’s eyes snapped open, his hearts jolting as he was met with the inky, grainy black. The silence was oppressive, as though just broken by something he could have sworn he hadn’t heard.
He lay still, straining to listen. Then, a light knock, low on the door. Every muscle slowly relaxed, and he sat up, letting the door open.
The soft golden glow of the hallway lights spilled inside, cut in half by the cast shadow of his housemate.
Her eyes still leaked red vapour, and as she blinked, the glint of liquid fell down her cheeks.
“You… You said I could wake you—”
He held up a hand to stop her from needlessly apologising and patted the bed beside him. “It is an effort to pull myself to the edge, but you may sit here if you wish.”
There were a few moments where she didn’t move, and then she did as he offered, pulling herself up and crossing her legs beside him.
“Thank you.”
They stayed silent for a little while; he was surprised to find that she ended up shuffling closer, grabbing the throw blanket to pull around herself.
Finally, she spoke, large eyes trained on him. “What happened to Ji’nara?”
“… Is that what your dream was about?”
“No, but… Var’gash asked me. I told him she died. I… I always wondered if you’d got her killed—”
“No.”
Alarak sighed. He had promised his former first Ascendant that he would tell nobody, but… He had promised Ri’kara that he would not lie again. Inwardly, he cursed; of course he would put himself in such a predicament.
“I allowed everyone to believe that. Ji’nara had found herself in a similar situation as I.”
“… She didn’t want to be where she was anymore?”
"And wished to be with one that she cared deeply for.” He shrugged. “Ji’nara and I have had a strange relationship. There was stability and safety in her presence; from what she often complained to me about, I believe she felt the same of me.”
“Like a sibling?”
“Tch. If siblings threaten each other with death—”
Ri’kara laughed a little. “They do. At least the ones I know.”
He remembered the way he had referred to her friends, the twins that had saved her from a miserable existence on Slayn. He chuckled.
“I am sure you are the expert. I suppose that is how we could have been described.”
“So you faked her death, then?”
“I sent her on a ‘mission’. When she did not return, rumour spread that it had been a suicide mission. I did not refute the claim.”
She gave him a soft, relieved smile, putting a hand on his stump. As usual, her hands were cold, the sensation somehow trailing down his non-existent forearm. He tried not to shiver.
“I’m glad you could do that for her.”
“After all I had done to keep her alive, it was the least I could have done.”
With a nod, the phase-smith began to pull herself from the blanket bundle. Alarak had to twist to reach and stop her.
“Take it with you; you are freezing.”
“… I guess I am a bit cold. Are you sure you’ll be fine?”
He rolled his eyes, bundling the fabric about her a little more. “Of course.”
Her face tinged lilac, noticeable even in the dark, and she slid to the edge of the bed to hop off it. “Ok… Goodnight. Again.”
“Goodnight.”
The door closed, and he sighed again, rubbing his face before lying back to get comfortable. Had it bothered her so much? As far as he remembered, the two barely got along; Ji’nara in particular seemed to hate her despite the physical attraction she expressed.
Then again, Ri’kara has a penchant for caring about every Protoss that she comes across. A wave of affection washed over him. Fool that she is.
Pulling the duvet up further about him, he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes to drift to sleep. For the first time in a while, he felt… cautiously optimistic about this new set of circumstances. Hopefully he could keep it that way.