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— Resistance Hideout, Clouded Forest —
Tamtey couldn't remember the last time she'd slept properly. The last few days had been a blur of fear and anger. Exploring TAP Con-1 had left her shaking, with the Moot site only making that worse. The cherry on top of it all was the walk through Alma's memories, her first-hand witness to the slaughter of their clan, and the sprinkles being the multitude of still untreated wounds that painted the sarentu's body more than the actual warpaint that had long chipped away from her skin. Though, she supposed the last bit was her own fault.
She sat outside of her makeshift camp; a small set up composed of a fire, a spare hammock, and a cobbled together crafting table all sheltered under a few trees and a small canopy. She was perched on the cliff of the floating mountain she'd made her temporary home, her knees drawn to her chest, vacant gaze fixated on the darkening horizon. Her old blanket was clutched tightly in her arms as shallow breaths rattled through her lungs, making her bruised ribs ache.
After Alma's Avatar had been buried, she couldn't stay in the hideout anymore. She ran off, took Amay and disappeared over the horizon to tear down as many RDA installations as she could before her body gave out on her and then some. She didn't know how else to handle herself. She hadn't had a moment to rest in weeks, no time to process or come to terms with her entire life being built on lies and murder.
Now everything was quiet. Now, the weight of the memories threatened to drown her.
Tamtey's mind struggled to work through everything she had seen. TAP Con-1 was a living nightmare; cages, restraints, disinfectants that she swears she could still feel searing her skin. The distorted loop of Alma's audio logs rung in her ears, the claw marks from tortured palulukan barely beginning to scab over, sticky blood drying over her arms.
And the Moot site… Ewya's wounds, she could still feel the burning of the yavä in her lungs. Okul's remedy had worked wonders in keeping the fog from killing her, but standing next to the barrels it came from, seeing bare remnants of what may have once been people… The scent and weight of it still sat heavy in her lungs, threatening to suffocate her even days later.
She missed Teylan. She missed Nor.
She missed her sa'nu.
Lost in the memories, she didn't hear the screeching of ikran or the soft footsteps approaching her, nor the gentle call of her name. It wasn't until a hand touched her shoulder that she was startled out of her daze.
A sharp gasp pulled from Tamtey, her hand reaching for her knife on sheer instinct as she whipped around, coming face to face with a very worried looking Ri'nela. Her hand pulls back, hovering just above Tamtey's shoulder as she slowly kneels beside the other sarentu, her movements careful, as if she were approaching a scared animal.
"I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you, ma Tamtey."
Tamtey lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, the sound much more strained than intended. She puts her knife back where it rested in the grass, alongside other bits of gear she had removed, as her posture relaxes and her eyes seem to flick anywhere but Ri'nela's own.
Her voice shakes lightly as she speaks, "It is ok. I… did not expect anyone to come looking. I figured you would be busy helping Anufi with the injured."
Ri'nela shakes her head and makes a small cooing noise as she crawls up to settle next to her, her hand once again finding her shoulder. This time, the touch is far more welcome, as Tamtey reaches up to cover her hand with one of her own.
"All the wounded have been tended to and are resting," She trails off for a moment, eyes catching on the old blanket resting in Tamtey's lap. It looked Sarentu, even with the bright colours of its weave dulled by time and stained with mud. After a long, long moment of silence, she gently places her free hand on the blanket. "What happened to you…?"
Her voice is soft, barely a whisper, and yet the question startles Tamtey. Her eyes widen as they finally meet Ri'nela's own, scanning her worried expression, mouth hanging open. "…What?"
"What happened? Where did you go, Tamtey? After you spoke to Nalin, you disappeared for days before coming back with the tsahik of a clan no one has seen in decades," Her hand moves from the blanket to Tamtey's side. The tips of her fingers barely graze the deep purple and black bruise that blooms across her skin, yet her core still flinches at the touch and her breath draw in sharp. Ri'nela's hand stays, but adjusts away from the sore spot as she continues, "You barely spoke once you returned and the moment we left Alma's— The Avatar's grave, you vanished again."
Tamtey's breath stutters in her chest, gaze trailing off to the side with a vacant look overtaking her eyes. The sight sends shivers down Ri'nela's spine. Tamtey was never easily phased, even when they were young. She's one of the strongest warriors the resistance has; She'd been singlehandedly dismantling most of the RDA sites across the western frontier from the moment the Sarentu escaped TAP, she'd driven Harding out of the Upper Plains, saved the Aranahe hometree, all with soft smile and a strong heart.
She had never seen Tamtey look as haunted as she did now.
"TAP Con-1." The Sarentu's voice was barely audible, yet it snapped Ri'nela out of her thoughts. She knew that name. It was barely a memory, the faded concept of something from their childhood, but she still knew it. She did not pry further, she knew Tamtey would continue on her own time. Instead, she pulled the younger woman closer, the hand on her shoulder moving to rest across her lower back while the other moved to rest over the hand Tamtey was gripping her blanket with. The Sarentu seemed to relax slightly at the warmth of the others touch, leaning her head against her shoulder and loosening the white-knuckled grip she had on the blanket.
"After I found the Kama'tire, I helped this one… Okul. Their mentor was a healer. He had been researching the yavä before he died. Okul was continuing that research and had stuff Siul had found from TAP Con-1. They gave me a remedy to survive in the yavä and gave me more leads about the logo."
She has to pause, her chest tightening and voice beginning to strain. It took so much for her to continue, and Ri'nela could see her fighting to explain. She takes in a deep breath, slowly tracing the tanhì down her back.
"I found the old facility. Where they took us after—" Her voice breaks off, a winded sound escaping her before she swallows, hard. "After killing our clan. As I pushed deeper I found recordings… Audio logs documenting us, records on Aha'ri," The air in her throat catches at the name of her older sister.
Tamtey's hands trembled as she spoke, tears choking her words as she fights to keep herself together. "I found the moot site after. I found the barrels the yavä came from, found bullets, old toys. I found—" Her words break in her throat once more, eyes wide and terrified. The fresh air around her suddenly felt as if she were back in the yavä, thick and acrid, suffocating her as she stared down at the last piece of her childhood she had left, the last thing that wasn't burned, dissolved, or discarded in a pile and left to rot.
Ri'nela could see Tamtey's breath picking up, the panic in her eyes and the tensing in her muscles. The terror in her voice, the mentions of what she saw; its enough to make Ri'nela sick to her stomach. She can't imagine what it must have been like to see it in person.
She presses closer and Tamtey all but collapses into her, her composure shattering as sobs tear through her. She curls up close to Ri'nela's chest, the tsakarem adjusting their position to keep her close while being careful of the untreated wounds that painted her skin.
She holds her close, tears forming in her own eyes, threatening to spill as Tamtey lets out decades of stress and pain. Sobs quickly turn into full on wails; guttural cries of pain, barely muffed by Ri'nela's skin. It makes her heart shatter, shoulders slump, tears fall from her eyes.
Something deep in her instinct ached at the sound, something that compelled her to pull Tamtey impossibly closer, encourage her to curl up in her lap as close as she can get. The movements were a bit awkward, given the height Tamtey has on Ri'nela, but eventually she found just the right angle where she could slot against her, face buried in the fabric of her top, shaking body wrapped in her arms. Ri'nela's tail comes around to wrap around Tamtey's, one hand wrapped tightly around her back while the other pulls her head close, cradling it as she presses gentle but firm kisses to anywhere she can reach on the others head.
Ri'nela didn't try to shush or push her, she knew the warrior needed this, that this was long, long overdue. Instead, she began humming softly, voice cracking every so often, choked by her own tears. She started with a lullaby the Aranahe had taught her, a melodic song often sung without lyrics, before starting to hum the last song of their people; the same, steadying melody she remembers Aha'ri using to soothe Tamtey's nightmares.
She sat there as she rode it out, connecting the tanhì on her back like constellations; a steady, warm presence for Tamtey to come back to after it was all done. It wasn't until her voice went hoarse from sobbing that she began to calm. By then, Ri'nela had switched to a human song, one Alma used to sing to her when they were young, her favorite.
Tamtey let out soft hiccups, her whole body shaking with the effort of her breaths as the tension drains from her body, leaving her limp against Ri'nela's chest. She lets the gentle thump of her heart and the buzz of song in her throat soothe her as exhaustion hits her like an angry slotsyal. All she can manage is a broken, "I'm sorry."
"Kea tìkin, ma Tamtey." Ri'nela keeps her voice gentle, hand smoothing down the small of her back. She can tell the other sarentu is exhausted. Her eyes dart up to the makeshift camp, scanning until they find the old hammock strung up in the corner. She hums and turns her attention back to Tamtey, adjusting to encourage her up.
"Za'u. You should rest." The moment Ri'nela goes to pull away, even the barest bit, Tamtey's head shoots up, eyes wide with panic as she grabs at her.
"Kehe—" The word squeaks out of her, her voice ruined, and Ri'nela can finally see the true weight the war has brought to her. The vibrant yellow and white paint she wears has been washed away by tears and smudged across her face by her hands, revealing multiple fresh, still pink scars. Her eyes are deep-set with exhaustion and still wet with tears.
It made Ri'nela's heart shatter.
She oh so gently brings her hands up to cup Tamtey's face, a gentle purr rising in her chest almost instinctively.
"Tam tam, ma tsamsiyu… I am here. I will not leave you," She carefully brushes one of Tamtey's locs out of her face, tucking it behind her ear and motioning toward her bed. "You need to rest. Properly, for once. Please…"
Tamtey all but melts into Ri'nela's hands as they cup her face, giving a broken, raspy purr in return to the other sarentu's as her eyes close for just a moment. They slowly open again as she nods.
It takes a little bit for them to properly lay down; Tamtey's legs nearly give out on her the moment they stand, her body still shaking so bad from her breakdown that Ri'nela all but carries her to the hammock. She helps her rinse away the remaining war paint and blood sticking to her skin, and helps her out of her top and into a more comfortable tewng, before doing the same for herself. Trying to actually settle in the hammock takes even longer, given Ri'nela's insistence on dressing Tamtey's wounds, but eventually, they get there.
Ri'nela pulls Tamtey to her chest once more, cradling the warriors head by her heartbeat as the soft purr in her throat returns. One hand rests on Tamtey's lower back, holding her close, her other hand holding Tamtey's as it rests on her stomach, while that old blanket sits neatly over their waists. Tamtey's less injured arm is tucked under the arch of Ri'nela's back, something she's sure will be moved as they rest and shift, but for now, remains a steady reminder of the youngers presence after so long away from home.
Away from Ri'nela.
Her attention is caught by the sound of ikran screeching as Amay and Zoslu return from their play. They nip and chortle at each other as they waddle toward the entrance to the camp, before curling up together, just how their bondeds are. It makes the purr in her chest grow louder and by the time she looks back to Tamtey, the sarentu had already fallen asleep.
Something tugs at her heart, the same familiar ache she'd been shoving away since she was young. She coos at her, the hand now resting over hers moving to gentle play with her kuru.
"Hivahaw nìmwey, ma yawntu."