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The first time Lomadia came back from the Jaffa factory troubled, Nilesy didn’t pry.
He did his best to cheer her, instead, chattering on about what sorts of materials he’d researched that day and explaining what he’d learned. If she seemed distracted while he showed her the new entries in his Thaumonomicon, he pretended not to notice. She appeared to appreciate the effort, the tension gradually draining away until she was once again laughing at his terrible jokes and snarking at him.
She never fully lost that distant expression, but at the end of the night she pulled him into a tight hug and whispered, “Thank you.”
-
The second time was much worse.
Nilesy jumped up, startled, when he heard the iron door upstairs crash open. Just as he’d fished his sword out of storage and was about to go investigate, Lomadia marched into the small workshop, expression stormy. She impatiently swept the cat from it’s perch atop their equipment chest and threw open the lid.
“Lo?” he asked, concerned. Still, he kept his distance, unwilling to risk becoming the target of her wrath.
She ignored him and he watched silently as she removed her armor in sharp, violent jerks and all but threw it into the chest along with the rest of her things. When she finished, she turned without a word and went into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. More out of a sense of self preservation than anything else, Nilesy decided to let her sleep it off and returned to his work.
Sometime during the early hours of the morning, he finally stumbled away from his desk in exhaustion, arching his back until it gave a satisfying pop. When he entered the bedroom, he found Lomadia asleep, curled atop her blankets. Her cheeks were red and swollen, like she’d been crying.
Over the next week or so Nilesy kept catching glimpses of Ridgedog out of the corner of his eye and, at one point, he even thought he saw the Divinity fleeing the temple looking rather chastised. Whenever he mentioned it to Lomadia, she became sullen and taciturn for the rest of the day so he stopped bringing it up and, eventually, Ridge stopped skulking around.
-
The third time it happened, he wasn’t home when she got back.
When Nilesy finally returned to the temple, it was already well after dusk. He was just making his way down the hall, his fishing rod tucked beneath one arm, when he noticed that the torches in the bedroom were lit. His step faltered and he recalled the state Lomadia had returned in several weeks before. Setting down his things quietly, he approached the door with some trepidation and slowly pushed it open.
She was sitting at the head of the bed, hugging her knees to her chest and staring at the opposite wall, lost in thought. Judging from the dark circles under her eyes, she hadn’t slept well for at least a couple of days and Nilesy lingered in the doorway, unsure if intruding was wise. Just as he was debating sleeping in the workshop, she turned to him with a blank expression.
“There’s something wrong with Xephos,” she said.
And then her face was crumpling into a pained expression and Nilesy had crossed the room before the first sob tore it’s way out of her throat. For most of the night, she wept into his shoulder while he stroked her back and murmured soothingly into her hair. When she finally fell asleep, he hesitated before easing them both down onto the bed, reasoning that she might sleep better that night with him beside her.
They woke up simultaneously, awkwardly avoiding one another’s gaze as they disentangled themselves. Though the rational part of Nilesy’s mind knew that nothing untoward had happened the night before, guilt still weighed heavily in the pit of his stomach. To make matters worse, it appeared that Lomadia felt the same way. She refused to meet his eyes, staring resolutely at the ceiling until he left the room.
Neither of them spoke for several days
-
The fourth time she came back, Lomadia wore a look of resignation.
She came into the workshop, her mouth set in a grim line, and just shook her head when he questioned her. He dropped the subject there and the rest of the evening passed quietly.
As they were getting ready for bed, Nilesy was feeling reckless. He fumbled over his words, staring at the wall just above her head as he stammered, “Do, uh- I mean, will you be okay alone, tonight?”
Lomadia looked at him for a long time and Nilesy had to force himself not to turn tail and run. Finally she nodded to herself, as if reaching some kind of decision.
“I wouldn’t mind the company.”
Nilesy woke up alone the next morning.
-
The fifth time she came back was also the final time.
When she came in, it was almost like she was returning from a mining trip, or something equally mundane. She greeted him warmly and began stowing away her equipment.
“How is he?” Nilesy asked, wondering if Xephos had finally recovered, and a small, depraved part of him dreaded that he had. Lomadia paused, considering the question as she placed her satchel atop the crafting table.
“He’s gotten worse,” she said, her tone sad but oddly detached at the same time. “There’s nothing I can really do.”
Nilesy didn’t know how to respond to that so turned back to his work. Throughout the rest of the evening, there was a strange tension in the air. Lomadia watched him with an intensity that was making him fidgety. Things fell from his hands several times and he almost set the temple ablaze while using the furnace. Her observance as he worked was doing a number on his nerves, his stomach doing uncomfortable little flips whenever their eyes met. When she offered to clean up the workshop while he finished his research for the day, he fled gratefully to his desk.
Still, he found himself distracted by the sounds of her moving around the room, unable to concentrate on his notes. He caught himself counting her steps a few times, growing more and more frustrated with his inability to concentrate.
He didn’t realize how furiously he’d been tapping his quill against the desk until Lomadia appeared at his side, placed her hand over his and stilling the motion. He froze, not knowing what to do with himself.
“Nilesy,” she said, clearly amused, “Calm down.”
He swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Her thumb stroked soothingly across his knuckles and a helpless sound bubbled up in the back of his throat. “Lo…”
“It’s okay.”
Her gaze was steady and Nilesy took a shaky breath before nodding once. Her lips curved into a smile and, tentatively, he returned it. She gave his hand a light squeeze before drawing away.
That night, she he slid into bed beside him and sought out his hand again. Nilesy used the contact to draw her closer and when her lips found his in the dark, there was no hesitation.
Waking up the next morning was slow and indulgent, an easy slide into consciousness. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of Lomadia’s breath ghosting across his collar bone.
-
She didn’t go back to the factory.