Written July 3rd, 2021 5:07 PM

Feyra was speaking, but for once Ailith wasn’t listening. She was stuck in her head, replaying Mammon’s deal over and over. 106 souls for the price of Feyra’s. 100 people felled in battle, five of noble standing, and a Chosen – all killed in Mammon’s name. The vote had been fairly unanimous – Ace and Feyra refused to take the deal, so Talus and Xiv agreed. But Ailith had stayed silent. She knew, had she been given the choice herself, she would have considered it. 106 souls for the opportunity to save Feyra’s soul… it was an easy choice to make.

She had kept quiet throughout the futile negotiations and all the way back to Bael’s quarters, her inner monologue screaming. Ace and Feyra had been so quick, so adamant. What did it say about her that she considered it, was still considering it? Back in Morkala, when the walls fell, she wasn’t against casualties – sometimes that’s the way the world works – but again, Feyra and Ace had made it clear that casualties were to be avoided at all costs. Ailith already knew she wasn’t good enough for someone like Feyra, that she was lucky to have a chance with her at all, and that was made abundantly clear in situations like this.

Ailith wasn’t a good person, not really, not when she thought about it. Her and Xiv, dragging the goodness of the party down together. At least Xiv was comfortable in their not-entirely-good-ness. Ailith just hoped that keeping her mouth shut and her thoughts to herself would trick the rest of the party into thinking she was a decent person. That maybe, if she did that long enough, she would one day become the type of person who was worthy of a woman like Feyra. Just maybe.

“I’m not going to force anyone to fight this battle for me, but I’m doing this,” Feyra’s voice filtered back into Ailith’s ears, and she shook herself out of her own thoughts. She stared at Feyra while her brain caught up to what was happening in front of her.

“Of course we’re going with you, Feyra,” came Ace’s soft voice. Oh, thought Ailith. Feyra is giving us a choice to not fight Mamon with her. What an absolutely lovely idiot.

Ailith felt an anger grow within her, not at Feyra, but at the fact that she felt she had to ask, that she didn’t just know that Ailith would be behind her one hundred percent. Ailith made a mental note to find ways to make sure that Feyra understood that there was nothing Ailith wouldn’t do for her. Feyra’s eyes were on her, waiting for a response, so very green against the backdrop of gold and red.

“There was never any doubt,” Ailith said forcefully, “that I would be behind you on this. I am with you, whatever it takes.” Ailith took Feyra’s hand and squeezed it, trying to convey all the feelings raging inside her with the simple action.

Bael stood, closing the conversation. “That settles it then. We move against Mammon now, while he’s not expecting it. Do this, and know you will have an ally in me when we succeed.”

Ailith felt a shift in the air as the First and Last steeled themselves, preparing for what was about to come. Ailith kept a hold on Feyra as they walked down the hall towards Mamon’s throne room, thumb brushing over the other woman’s knuckles. As they paused at the door, Ailith turned Feyra towards her, gripping her shoulders.

“Whatever happens in there,” she began, voice soft and low, “it is all worth it to fix this.” Ailith knew Feyra, knew that she was probably already feeling guilty about dragging the rest of them into this, that she was thinking she wasn’t worth the risk. But as far as Ailith was concerned, that was bullshit. Feyra was always worth the risk. A small smile lifted the corners of Feyra’s mouth, the air between them growing thick with emotion.

“That was a really bad pep talk,” Xiv rasped, poking their skull between the two of them. “Nothing is going to happen, everything is going to be just fine,” they finished with a thumbs up, confidence ringing in their voice.

They both ignored the intrusion, lost in their little moment. Feyra nodded, and Ailith only hoped she actually believed her.

“I love you.” Feyra’s response was quiet, but said with such conviction that Ailith felt her knees go weak. Ailith squeezed Feyra’s arms three times, an unsaid reply. One that she was once again starting to let herself imagine whispered against skin, no barriers in the way. Let’s go get this bastard, she thought to herself as they all squared up to the door, waiting with bated breath as Bael pushed it open.