Chapter Text
The inn room was small and barebones, the clamor of the tavern audible just below. A lone dim lamp burned on a bedside table, a single bed with fur blankets sat beside the window. It looked out into the night sky, to the quaint buildings that made up the rest of the village.
A woman sat at the edge of the bed, the wood creaking with her every movement. Her skin was marked in scars from head to toe, and her hair was stark white, cut short and choppy.
She undid the clasps on her heavy platemail armor - first her gauntlets and boots, before she began to fiddle with the straps around her shins and thighs. Her undergarments were soaked with sweat and dried bloodstains, the cloth sticking to her skin.
The door opened with a high pitched creak. A second woman walked in, two steaming bowls of soup in her hand. She was dressed more casually, in a white tunic and slacks, with long brown hair that fell down around her shoulders. She grinned as she entered.
“Reverie, guess what?” She set the bowls down on the lone dresser and didn’t wait for a response. “The tavern owner gave us free food!”
“Yeah, well-” Reverie grunted as she peeled off one of her shinguards, rubbing the sore muscles. “Considering we didn’t get paid for our last job, I’d take that as a substitute.”
The other woman - Amriel - pouted. “It’s not all about the payment, Rev. We’re doing good, we’re helping people.”
“I’d rather not be sleeping on the streets.”
Reverie grumbled something under her breath as the strap on her armguard got caught, refusing to budge. She tugged at the leather, hard, and yelped when tightened instead of loosening.
Amriel sighed, sitting next to her on the bed. Gently, she worked the leather strap loose, taking off the metal plate and setting it on the nightstand.
“Thanks,” Reverie mumbled, glancing away.
“Of course,” Amriel just smiled back. “Now, let’s get you out of this armor, shall we?”
Amriel worked slowly and methodically, taking off each individual plate in silence. It felt like a weight was lifting off of Reverie, the day beginning to catch up with her. Bruises and scratches marked her skin, still fresh.
“There,” Amriel took off the chestpiece last, revealing a large, rust-colored bloodstain on her lower ribs. She paused for a moment.
“Did-” Amriel stuttered. “Did you get shot today?”
“Oh, yeah,” Reverie looked down, having mostly forgotten. “I mean, it’s fine. I ripped the arrow out.”
Instead of concern, Amriel huffed in annoyance. “Reverie! You told me you would come to me if you need healing. We can’t have any close calls.”
“It’s fine,” Reverie lifted her undershirt, showing off a fresh-looking scar. “See? Already healing.”
Amriel just sighed again and got the now-cooling soup from the dresser. “You’ll be the death of me one of these days.”
“Not likely,” Reverie took a small sip of the stew - some mixture of beef and vegetables.
They ate their dinner in relative silence, listening to the faint sounds of the night and muffled tavern chatter. The lamp on the nightstand began to flicker, casting the whole room in long shadows.
Reverie finished first, putting her bowl and and stretching, before stripping off her undergarments. She began to rummage around in her backpack.
Amriel looked at the dried blood marring Reverie’s skin, and the fresh wounds that had barely healed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” Reverie slipped on a pair of beige trousers. “I’m tougher than I look, you know that.”
“Still,” Amriel trailed off, looking into her half-finished bowl of stew.
There was a long beat of silence as Reverie continued to sift through her pack, before finding a wrinkled tunic stuffed within. Amriel leaned back on the bed, running her hands along the worn furs. She could feel each bit of straw poking out from the mattress.
“They could’ve given us a bigger bed,” Amriel mumbled, staring at the uneven wooden boards that made up the ceiling. “It’s… a bit small, even for me.”
“Want me to go ask for a different room?”
“No, it’s alright. But it has been a while since we’ve shared a bed.”
Reverie sat at the edge of the bed, hesitation flashing across her face. “Is that, uh, okay? Us sharing a bed?”
Amriel laughed. “Yes, it’s okay. It’s just been a while. Come, and rest.”
Reverie laid down beside her, and Amriel turned and rested her head on Reverie’s chest, listening to her heartbeat. Reverie settled in quickly, holding her close.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” Amriel asked.
“I’m sure. Just a bit sore.”
Humming under her breath, Amriel ran her hand along Reverie’s arm, across each muscle and scar. “I wish there was more that I could do. But it’s… difficult to heal you. It’s like my magic doesn’t want to work.”
“Yeah, well, being suffused with infernal energy would probably do that,” Reverie sighed.
There was a long silence after Reverie spoke, filling the air and stifling any more conversation. Amriel bit the inside of her cheek, thinking over her words.
“We’ll find a way,” She said softly. “A way to fix… this. A way to redemption.”
Reverie swallowed the lump in her throat, ignoring the doubt that had wormed it’s way into her chest. It just sat there like a chunk of ice, freezing everything around it.
“Yeah.” Reverie mumbled. “Maybe.”