when I pretend everything is what I want it to be

I look exactly like what you had always wanted to see

Roland watched Lena flinch at the sound of his voice, as if preparing to be reprimanded, as if he might cast aside her devotion and scorn her; as if his answer would be built upon ruinous, toxic words of embracing aspirations and ambitions, that she might be another instrument, a mere means to an end, and that this illusion of solidarity could be brought crashing down around their heads with as little as a simple statement from the Thief. It was as if she expected him to say he wanted her around, not because he cared for her, but because she was useful. And only that.

Her broken apology was silenced by Roland’s gradual advance, hoping to rectify, assuage, and placate. Whatever rift might have formed in their relationship as a result of his absurdity, he hoped, could be stitched together with his embrace. With this in mind the Thief reached out to curl himself around her, drawing Lena against his chest. His eyelids lowered as he pressed his cheek against the sun warmed surface of her skin, watching the grass sway in the breeze at their feet. After a moment he felt Lena shift, curving against him and brushing her muzzle against the arch of his neck, over his throat, and hoped that in doing so she had forgiven whatever mistakes he had made to lead her down this path, to have fooled her into thinking she was not wanted or needed. Even if it was no fault of his own, if her doubts ran deeper than their friendship, he still felt the sickening weight of guilt, like an anchor, tugging against his heart. He would do anything to see the carefree confidence restored in her eyes.

“You have nothing to apologize to me for,” he murmured. It pained him to think her insecurities had gone voiceless, unheeded for so long when in the end she should have nothing to worry about. The Thief had only the highest regard for her, and so should the rest of their family, for with all the dangers they faced to defend their home they would be shreds of flesh and bone if they did not have Lena to sew them back together again.

Roland heard her disparaging words uttered against the flesh of his neck, a despondent, lifeless whisper breathed into the summer air, and stiffened at their implication. Lena was many things- a healer, a friend, a motivator. She had surely gazed upon more blood and battle than he had, as she salvaged wounded soldiers, sung healing, enlivening songs to the dispirited, bestowed resolve upon the inconsolable and inspired hope amongst the hopeless. She was courageous and steadfast, but a fool? Far from it. Roland turned, pressing his lips to the pulse beneath her throat and closing his eyes against the sunlight. “You are no such thing,” he responded decisively, adamant that she would not debate him on this.

He barely caught her offer amidst the tempest of thoughts in his mind, for it came as quiet and tentative as the rest of her words. But why would he demand more of her? How could he expect an apology made in the form of self sacrifice, and to only bestow his forgiveness- though she had done nothing wrong- when she had repaid him? There was no need to redeem his lost time, to give payment for his affection. He could not imagine asking more of someone who had already given so much. To request something of her would be to prove he was no better, no more dependable, no more deceptive, than she’d feared him to be. Roland felt she’d given too much already, to endure his blundering ineptitude and indecision; he was truly lost at sea in the face of such a well oiled machine as the Basin, a place the likes of which he’d never experienced. The Thief recalled well enough the machinations of war, its blue prints and practices, but to operate in such refined order was profoundly novel to him.

Roland withdrew from their embrace, retreating just far enough to be able to catch Lena’s eye. He fixed her with a softly smiling look, though it was muted beneath the concern he felt for her. “You’ve done more than enough for me already,” he assured her gently, casting away her offer much like he had in the sanctuary, though not without gratitude. “But don’t let yourself worry. It would be a shame to see you sad on such a nice day.”

Maybe one day he would have to say goodbye; to the north, with its tall, snow crowned mountains and frosted halls; to the hot springs, the sparse woods, and the desolate, windswept plains. Maybe he would depart for another land, when he had twisted one too many arms, shown his face to one too many enemies, and could no longer serve as a criminal to those who needed his services. But he did not intend to leave, if he could help it. The Aurora Basin was his home, its denizens his family, and he could not give that up as easily as he had tossed away his previous pursuits. If Lena worried she would be rid of him soon, she would have a while to wait.

@[Lena]