princess_of_ida | IC Inbox

[Ianthe didn't respond. She just moved to sit on the step of her front porch, hair still in messy loose braids, and watched the wildflowers planted all up the path to her house grow. She leaned her head against a support beam and cycled her breathing as she tried to pack her existential dread away so it wouldn't get all over Robin.

She lifted her eyes when Robin arrived.]

Hey.

[ As she neared the property, Robin evaluated how she should approach Ianthe; settling on warmth without a smile, she walked up to where the other woman had been waiting for her. She sat down, set her gifts aside, and caressed the back of Ianthe's head. ]

I brought you something to eat, if you're hungry. I know sometimes it's hard to remember to take care of ourselves.

[ Though she imagined Gilia wouldn't allow that to slip through the cracks. Still.

She could say other things, such as how beautiful the garden was, or direct words of comfort that would work on most people but likely feel hollow to someone with Ianthe's life experience. Robin promised they didn't have to talk at all, so she would make good on that. ]

[Unlike earlier in the month, Ianthe was accepting of unexpected physical touch and didn't tense up or move away. Or maybe that was because it was a soothing touch.]

Thanks. I'm not really hungry, though. Eating is mostly a habit as I don't require food anymore.

[She fell silent for a moment.]

Where do you think they go when they disappear?

[ She nodded quietly. It was understandable, given Ianthe's nature. Robin would leave them inside the house regardless. Later, though. With the hand allowed to be there, she rubbed her thumb from side to side, down the other woman's nape. She wouldn't let go, even as she looked ahead to think.

She'd thought about it, as hard as she fought off the dread that there was no place to go. Robin had told people before that she didn't want this to be the last place where she would live, but months kept passing, horrors kept descending on them. Yet all of that was better than being reduced to nothingness.

She took a deep breath to relax her chest. ]

To a dream, perhaps.

[ It was how she described the reality she and Finch found themselves trapped in without even knowing it. From one prison to another. It wasn't a comforting answer, but it was an honest one. ]

[It felt good - the thumb on her neck. Her eyes closed and head tilted down a little.]

That's what those that went into the Void said it was like in there; a dream they didn't want to wake up from. A honeypot.

It calls to me. The Void. Has for a long time.

[ She remembered what Ianthe told her about the Void, its corruption, the pull that lingered long after the worst had passed. Sometimes she wished she could tell her about the markings inside her head. Robin could never escape them; they'd always be a reminder of what Mother turned her into, living and breathing under her skin. Only one person knew about the Flood here, and that was already one too many people, but the words were stuck in her throat, begging to come out. Feeling for anything that may be imprisoned in Ianthe as well. ]

I know. [ Quietly, ] I know.

[ Looking ahead, Robin rested her head on the other woman's shoulder. ]

It sees the emptiness that was left behind.

[ In another life, had Ezra been here and left, Robin may have felt that same temptation, and she couldn't say for certain that she would have resisted it for very long. ]

I almost went to it. Down in the caves. Her voice was so loud. So mean. So angry. So... hurt.

[Her hand idly strayed up to the pendent about her neck, an inverted trident with a yellow stone set into it.]

I wonder if everyone who disappears ends up hearing the call and just go. Can't decide if that makes me resilient or just extra broken. If I've lost that much of myself.

[ Robin didn't have to think for very long — 'her' had to refer to Ianthe's sister, the half of her that had been a part of the Deathwarden's world before the void pulled its first victims into this one. Loud, angry and hurt were words Robin could've used to describe her inner thoughts, too, determined to never let them spill for as long as she was trapped with everybody else. The Beckers always had to suppress their poison lest it destroy everything Mother worked so hard to build.

Michelle's voice had yet to be heard anywhere. She was lucky; if Ezra's departure would have been enough to destroy her, Mother's presence could do so much worse. ]

I don't want to pretend I can give you an answer. [ Ianthe deserved better than that. ] I don't think you're ready to let go, though.

[ She had built too much. Sacrificed too much. ]

'The goal is always worth the cost'. Do you still believe that?

Yeah.

[It had to be. It was what her ambition was built on, it was how she was able to do everything she'd done for twenty years, giving up everything of herself to her sister, to their plan. Even when taking Babs instead of Corona hurt Corona and drove her to others in her anger at Ianthe. But she took it. She took it all because the goal WAS always worth the cost... and if it wasn't, a person should find a better goal.]

Blood is always going to be shed, and we demean ourselves to squabble over how much. Robin, I'm going to do terrible things to get what I want. What I need from here. You might want to save yourself some trouble and walk away from me now. To avoid the collateral damage.

[ She sat quietly, thinking, weighing her options. Without looking at Ianthe, her voice smoothed until it felt like calm waters, something dark and graceful swimming underneath. ]

Do you intend to harm me?

No.

[That was sincere. Ianthe didn't want to hurt anyone, not even Iggy, but she knew what was going to happen. She knew people would stand against her on principle or politics, come after her for revenge. She was going to give up everything she had to get what she needed to bring her twin sister back if God really did start everything over by the time she got back home.]

Not unless you get in my way. Even then, I don't want to, but I will. I'm not a kind person, Robin, but I'll extend the kindness to let you know a storm is coming and it's probably better to head for a shelter than be out in the open with me.

Thank you, Ianthe.

[ Ianthe's answer was enough. If it turned out to be a deliberate lie, Robin accepted that she would have no one to blame but herself for believing it. ]

I can't promise that I'll be by your side. But I'm not going to hide.

I wouldn't accept such a promise anyway. [It's the kind of promise Ianthe would take advantage of, the kind Iggy gave her and she's using for her own purposes. Besides, her connections were part of the price she had to pay, her own suffering.] I think I'm cursed to be alone in the end anyway.

[She's always told Corona that they were cursed.]

Maybe you are.

[ Robin was normally better at comforting people. Lying to them, rather. She lowered her hand, placed it on Ianthe's thigh with the palm up, should she want to intertwine their fingers. ]

And maybe I am, too. But we have each other right now.

[It was a long moment that Ianthe looked down at that hand. The offer. And maybe she misread it, or maybe she didn't care and just wanted to feel something other than numb or existential dread for a moment. Maybe, maybe, maybe... it was just self-delusion that gave her the push.

Ianthe's flesh hand came to a rest on Robin's, fingers curling between those of the other woman's. Then she twisted her torso, bone hand coming to Robin's cheek to tilt her head up as she leaned down to press their lips together.]

[ Her inhale fell short of a gasp, but Robin wasn't taken aback. The shiver running down her arms was unexpected and pleasant, in fact, Ianthe's lips soft against hers. They hadn't done anything since the haze of madness, insidious and irresistible, had guided her actions at the festival, memories she'd suppressed to avoid dealing with what they said about her.

It didn't mean she had to deal with it now, either. It was a kiss, and if that was what Ianthe needed from her, she'd give it. (Iggy needed her to tell him to atone for his atrocities; Finch needed her to help him blend in; Quentin and Will needed to feel normal in such a horrific place; Aemond needed to feel power; Alicent needed someone to be by her side when everybody turned against her—)

And Robin needed to let herself stop thinking, for once. Slowly, she lifted her hand to Ianthe's cheek and kissed her back. ]

[The encounter at the festival was certainly one Ianthe wouldn't ever forget, feeding so well something she needed then. While Ianthe wasn't often in that submissive of a mood, the taste of Robin's lips, her presence, had been intoxicating enough that the want for more lingered underneath the surface. She always wanted more, to have and consume - an insatiable creature.

This time, Ianthe was capable of reading the feedback from Robin's body. Had the kiss not been wanted or pleasing, she'd have stopped. But she didn't. Robin kissed her back, and for a few long moments, it was just lips, soft and slow, one kiss after another, before Ianthe pulled back just enough for breath.]

Can I take you inside and take your clothes off?

[ Kissing often felt like a memory game — not doing what was instinctive, but what she'd learned people liked, just like she would not get into relationships for love, but to follow some social rulebook. People would wonder why a nice girl like her couldn't get a girl or boyfriend if she didn't find someone. They'd pry and bother, and she'd have to work harder for things if there wasn't the availability of a selfless partner by her side. They only lasted for as long as she needed them, left when they got too comfortable and the honeymoon phase was over.

This place had been a constant challenge to that. Still, when Ianthe made the proposition, Robin shook her head and looked down. She took the other woman's hand as though she feared it was the wrong answer. ]

Not today, Ianthe. [ Looking back at her, she brushed some loose strands from Ianthe's cheek. ] But I could wash your hair, if you'd like.

[A soft exhale and Ianthe took the rejection far better than anyone probably expected. After all, she wasn't the desirable twin and one year of being sexually sought after wasn't enough to erase the many years of being the tag-a-long. There wasn't more than a brief pang when she was told no.

She brought the hand up to kiss Robin's knuckles lightly before straightening up with a nod.] That'd be nice.

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