Now we’re both casualties in this

Her heart is a thunderous beat, rival to the storm outside as it conjured and snapped. All she could focus on was the writhing figure of Thranduil, a sweaty mess in his own bedding, shifting and swirling and jerking himself in something that Rexanna wasn’t sure if it was a dream or a seizure of some kind. “Arwen.” She heard the name the first time as she bent over his body, brows furrowing and uncertainty lacing beneath the exotic lines of her face. Rain dripped from her pelt and her cage of chains, dripping onto his already dampened pelt. She was trying, and trying hard to wake him. If not for the screams that trailed to her from Haldir, the companion that was more than likely facing trauma as he watched his bonded endure something that had to have been excruciating. Determination lined the creases of her eyes, the ones that had already been set by sleepless nights alongside trying to raise twins. But all the exhaustion from those nights were put in the back of her mind, hidden in a dusty closet as fear and frustration rushed into her.

She was afraid he was going to die here, and she was to be the one forced to witness it.

But she was angry that this was the outcome of her first interaction with the stallion after so long from his wisdom. She looked to the elegant golden stag of thievery. She looked to him for guidance when she was ranked a Phantom in the Basin, and yet the stag was nowhere to be found. She couldn’t find him among the many faces of the Basin, and to finally, finally see the man after his departure and the changes that had taken place undoubtedly in the both of them, this wasn’t how she wanted to think of him.

So she’d try her hardest to wake the Laurelin from the slumber he was suffering in. In all of her attempts, Marembo’s own beady gaze caught the moonlight eyes of the cerndyr, concern crossing his features as he pressed his little hands on the chest of the deer, and as he lowered his head to bury himself among the wet fur that lined Marembo, he did his best to wrap himself around Haldir in comfort. His head rubbed gently against the neck of the ebony stag, but a slight twitch of fear streamed through the polecat as his bonded screamed at the Golden.

They were remarkably similar, in some strange unknown ways. Both were glittered in gold, built into their flesh and minds. Rexanna hadn’t a clue of where Thranduil came from, but if there was some sort of being that was all-knowing, they’d know that despite the history that raged between the two of them from their other lives, at least Rexanna had the chance to bury her own dead child. And if she had somehow known that was all Thranduil wished to do in suffering the dream, she would’ve let him be – stood by and watched to make sure he didn’t end up horribly harming himself.

But she didn’t know – she couldn’t have known, and part of that frustrated her even worse. Who exactly was ‘Arwen’ and why was it troubling the stallion so much? As her fireworks shot through the cavern, her attention was entirely focused onto the Laurelin, watching silently as the rain dripped from her skin, eyes bright and narrow searching for the earthen tones of Thranduil’s, praying to any and all of the gods that he’d end up alright.

And just like that, she jumped back slightly as he gasped awake. A snort left Rexanna’s lips as she watched him, eyes trailing from his face to his chest, to everywhere else on him making sure he was alright. Marembo stayed nearly glued to Haldir, his paws trying to soothe the companion as Rexanna dealt with Thranduil – she prepared for the worst, for the screams and anger to be brushed onto herself. And for a moment she thought it would turn that way. But finally, between the staggered breaths and stretched nares, he looked at her. All the Basin Thief could do was stare, to watch the man she had looked up to and all she got in return were distant eyes and fading lights of lightning cracking above.

“Rexanna.” It sounded almost defeated. But Rexanna was persistent, and where she figured it might be a good time for her leave, she just couldn’t leave him like that. She cared far too much about the welfare of those that had helped her in her own time of need. He had been the golden man in striking armor and wolfish hide that had saved her from the patrols of the Blood Prince, and while it didn’t last long, she imagined that deep down somewhere she owed something to him. And just like that, her oceanic gaze never left his face as she knelt down beside him, golden chains clinking across the rocky structure that made up the cavern. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” She began, her voice soft and wavering amid the chances she tried to make it appear calm. “I – I thought you were dying.” She stuttered, her head swiveling away from him for a few brief moments as the fear began to drain from her body. And despite the strange things that had happened, the golden blanketed mare knew better than to mention the name the Laurelin had screamed into the air.

"Talk."

Every kiss and every word—

They were bullets spraying hazardly from lips.

Rexanna