Fiery Grasp

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A companion piece to Icy Touch.
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Theme
"Girl, with an accent of blood who speaks in foreign tongues whose vowels are the sound of metal clashing.​

Warrior, with fire in her veins and armor beneath her skin, who crushes the earth beneath her feet.​

Immortal, hair streaked with daggers and iron filling her lungs, each breath inviting toxic.​

Princess, with lips made of glass and a voice cut from steel, features born from thunder and battle.​

Heroine, a grin made of war and eyes flecked with ash, striding powerful, into the arms of death."​

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Once again, here she stood. The same room, the same creature of a bathtub stood before her. No longer was it a creature that she feared nor reluctant to conquer. She did not fear it's terrible golden claws or it's pale, porcelain body; not anymore. The sides were, surprisingly, not chipped, perhaps she had imagined that within her near unconscious state when she had been lifted off of the cold tiled floor. She shook her head firmly as she watched the steam rise from the water that swished and lapped at the sides of the bathtub.

Running her tongue over her bottom lip, she considered the water and the floral scent that wafted up with the steam. Her nose crinkled and she winced as she raised her hand to the bandage there. Letting out a chuckle at her own mistake, she moved to drop the towel from around her waist and carefully eased her bruised and exhausted body into the steaming, scented bathwater.

Her body sank deep beneath the steaming water as she laid her large arms on the edges of the bath. Tilting her head backwards, her neck cradled against the lip of the bath, a deep, slow breath escaped her. It was almost as if she had been holding that singular breath for most of the day and now it was being released as she could relax.

As she lays within the bathtub, she considered the noises that were present further within the large country house. She heard the sound of laughter, both of the young and the more mature, but all the same, they were familiar to her. They were her family; or at least part of her family. A frown creased over her features as her eyes shifted to the side and her head drifted with it. She began to count the tiles on the floor as she slid her arms down into the water.

"...Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-"

"She alluded to something more."

"No. We're just very good friends."​

Her frown increased in-depth as she scrunched her eyes closed. Ignoring the barely heard whispers of a past conversation, she sunk deeper into the hot water. So curious as she laid there, nose and eyes above the water with the rest of her body submerged. Had she been here before? She couldn't quite remember.

"Don't apologize. You have nothing to apologize for."​

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"I-... I'm still sorry."​

Her hands shifted into fists as she moved to completely allow the steaming water to envelop her body. Ignoring the past protests of the ones who attended to her, the bandage on her nose would need to be replaced as it was now completely drenched by the bathwater. Not only were those words ignored, but the words and voices of past people faded as her head went beneath the water.

As she laid flat as she could beneath the slightly swishing bathwater, she considered the darkness behind her eyelids. So different from the one she remembered from the last incident. No one had mentioned it or brought it up, but the others seemed to have begun to tip-toe around her after that. She had snapped when she found Patrick following from a distance. He had been doing it for two days, she had noticed within the hour of the first day, but didn't care at that moment.

That conversation hadn't gone over well. She could still hear her sister-in-law's shouting and rage-filled voice tumbling about in her mind as her own cold, purring voice replied to her shouting calls.

"WE ARE YOUR FAMILY, SERA! SPIRIT FORBID YOU THINK ABOUT ANYTHING OTHER THAN YOURSELF!"

"I was thinking about someone other than myself when I laid within that basin. I knew what had to be done."

"You… knew? AND YOU DIDN'T COME TO TALK TO ANY OF US? YOU KNOW WE-"

"And what would I have said, Darcie!? The truth? You all would have done something far worse than what you're doing right now! I am not some sort of sick horse or animal you're watching over to ensure it doesn't die, Darcie. I'm my own damned woman."

"We… love you, Sera. We thought… We had lost you."​

The pain and hurt in Darcie's voice had made her heart pause in its beating during that argument. Had it not been for the entrance of Patrick to announce that lunch was ready, she assumed that the conversation would have taken one of two turns. She didn't wish to consider either at that very moment, but even still the thoughts of what could have been were present.

Letting out an annoyed grunt, she slid her hands upward from where they lay pressed to the bottom of the bath. They reached up and grasped the edges of the tub and lifted herself upward. She inhaled deeply as she re-emerged from beneath the water. Sweeping her wet curls back and out of her face, she settled back once more into the same position she had taken previously. Neck cradled against the lip, she took up her counting again.

This time she matched her counting with the sound of her own heartbeat that was thudding away in her breast. Raising a hand from beneath the water, she traced over the various scars that were carved into her tanned skin. Closing her eyes once more, she pressed her hand firmly to the flesh of her chest where her heart thrummed. Wordlessly, she began to count the beats that sounded there; her lips moving without sound as her fingers pattered lightly against her own muscled chest.

"But you can't keep ignoring the fact that you could get hurt. And I will not have a group of savages and cowards take you away from me!"​

With a startled huff, the sound of brothers voice snarled in her ears as she sat upwards in the bath. Eyes opened wide and her hand splashing down into the water. With a confused expression on her features, she rose from the bath altogether and picked up her discarded towel from before. Making quick work of drying off and wrapping the towel about her, she stepped from the bath and moved off to her bedroom.

As she stood before the mahogany door, a frown creased her features as she considered the doorknob, mind still very far away from where it should be present. The sound of footsteps and the rustling of fabric was heard from within the room did not pull her from her thoughts, but the door swinging open sure did.

"Honey?"

"Hrm? Hrm."

"Goo-... You got your bandages wet."​

The taller woman blinked as the one who had opened the bedroom door and spoken to her pulled her inside by her arm. A motion she was so terribly used to and yet as she was guided inside, it felt almost alien in nature. Frowning, she finally collected herself and looked towards the other occupant of the room.

Standing by the wardrobe and wrestling with one of her own tunics, an almost dainty looking blonde woman stood. Her wavy locks pulled back loosely in a bun at the nape of her neck and she wore a winter riding outfit, sans cloak, gloves and boots. Turning about finally, her laurel green eyes settled on her own face and she paused in her manoeuvring.

"Is something wrong?"

"...No."​

She wrinkled her nose and cleared her throat; her response had come out hesitant and near squeaky.

"No. Nothing's wrong, was just thinking a lot in the bath is all."​

Julienne pursed her lips slightly as she stepped closer, raising a hand to caress her wife's jaw. Her thumb pressed lightly to the scars that marked her features. Standing on the tips of her toes, she drew her head down and kissed her.

And with that kiss, Sera felt as if she were undone, her arms curled tightly about the smaller woman's waist and Julienne melded into her grasp. It was as if they were two puzzle pieces that were made to fit together; it just worked. As Sera pulled away just an inch, her sapphire eyes gazing over her wife's features, a tentative smile was on her features.

"But that surely just banished all thoughts from my mind."​

At Sera's words, a smile spread over Julienne's features as she pressed another quick kiss to her lips before shoving the clothes she had picked out into her arms.

"Come on, get dressed silly. I need to go and fetch my medical bag anyway. I'll meet you in the sitting room."​

Julienne made for the door, a happy little hum following her as she took hold of the doorknob. However, she paused at the sound of rustling clothes and the sound of Sera's voice behind her.

"My soul?"

"Yes, my heart?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Seraphina."​

Her wife wouldn't see the flicker of pain as the door swung closed. And she certainly wouldn't see the way Sera touched her heart and looked out the window of their bedroom. Another voice, a softer yet familiar one had spoken just beneath Julienne's words.

"I care about you, Seraphina."​

Letting out a sigh, she looked down at the clothes in her arms and settled them onto the edge of the bed. Moving mechanically, she finished drying off and pulled the clothes, her wife had picked out for her, on. Examining herself in the vanity mirror, she raised a hand and touched the scars there.

"People still love your face. They still smile at you when they see you. They see a beloved friend, a strong and fiery hearted warrior. Someone they can trust." ​

Giving herself a firm nod of her head, she swiped a chain from the vanity top and slipped it over her head. The ring upon shifted on the chain before resting against her still-warm skin. Adjusting her shirt, she let out a sigh and moved out of the bedroom.

Another spar, another bath, more figments of her memories coming back to her. But as she settled before the fireplace and allowed her wife to attend to her nose and check over her bruised body, she thought not of death or the battles that were to come. Nor did she think of the battles that had passed or the arguments that had happened the days before and after she had returned.

No, she thought of the ones who loved her and within her heart, a fire that had long since died flickered back to life. A fire that burned brighter than ever before and a fire that would be kindled by the awful emotions that would normally boil her blood. The fire of her life would burn anew.