She'd waited, paced, prodded the damn sphere with her sword, spent one long hour debating if dispelling it would bring her… friends… back or trap them forever.
Had quietly directed Orly to bring the ship in for repairs, kept up a brave face for the crew - there was time for worrying when everyone was back and safe and she could hide out alone on the deck of the ship.
But it had been days! Actual days since they had all vanished without a word and now the jittery aggravation at being left behind was turning into a solid weight of fear and abandonment that was usually kept at bay by the presence of the Mighty Nein.
Repairs were done, had been done, and now even the crew was getting antsy, whether it was worry about not getting paid or being left stranded on this island or something more genuine.
They had all finally gathered around the sphere late on the seventh day, quietly discussing amongst themselves what they were going to do as Yasha paced back and forth, fingers clenching around the Magicians Judge.
And then with a whirl and hiss Beau materialised out the sphere in front of her, out of breath, cut and bleeding, burns and smears of ash along her cheek, clothing singed at the edges, and a wild look in her eyes, "Well, glad that turned out to be the way out at least."
Gruff and coughing as a few of the crew seem to hesitate in offering a hand up but Beau pushes to her feet before any of them work up the nerve, having to catch herself just a bit on legs that seemed to not quite want to hold her weight.
"You're back." Quiet, trying to keep the trembling fear and exhausting relief out of her voice, "But where is… where are the others?" She can do this, focus on Beau for a moment and get herself under control.
"It's… it's a long story and it's totally all Fjords fault." She turns to look back at the sphere and Yasha catches the slight tremble in her hands as she places them on the table next to it, the hard swallow that works down her throat before she turns to offer a half-hearted smirk and slight shrug of one shoulder in Yasha's direction.
Though Yasha catches the quiet mumbling under her breath "Come on, come on Jess…" wants to press Beau for more but already feeling rebuffed, left out, alone quietly slinks back to the back of the small room while the crew clamber around the monk.
They wait, Beau getting more and more agitated, fingers clenching and releasing as the rest of the party finally starts getting expelled from the sphere. What felt like hours must have only been minutes before Caleb drops out, then Fjord and Caduceus. Time seems to slow, no sign of Jester, Nott, or their new friend.
Yasha catches the clenching of Beau's jaw, eyes never leaving the space as the minutes stretch with no sign of the rest of their group, a charged silence filling the room as the released party members voices finally trail off.
There's a tightness constricting her throat at the thought of losing them, at the growing realisation that she yet again failed to protect someone she cared about and the guilt only grows more consuming as Beau's eyes get glassy and her shoulders start to slump - she should have been there, should have been there to protect this band of inquisitive idiots from themselves.
And then with a hiss Nott is there, bleeding and burned, eyes wild and a bit crazed, very much looking like someone that's standing on their last leg. Beau doesn't move, doesn't look away, curls her arms around herself as the others fuss over Nott.
The broken, haunted look is enough to pull Yasha out of her corner, the need to comfort this brash human who has only just managed to worm her way under tightly guarded walls - pushing the deep guilt away. But she stops, close enough to share body heat, to touch if Beau were to lean back into her, not honestly sure how well the proud woman would react to the offer of comfort.
"She'll be here." a haunting whisper just for the monks ears that does little to hide the weariness in her voice, but Beau nods and shifts back just enough for contact between them to be established and Yasha can feel the trembling of the body infront of her. She's been with the group long enough to know that there's a certain kinship between the two, that Beau wouldn't have wanted to leave the tiefling behind for anything, and there's that small bite of jealousy towards the seemingly effortless kinship between them and the loss of the one she'd shared similar with before she pushes it back down.
She has no claim to Beau, has kept her distance despite the clear interest being directed her way, and truly appreciates that Beau hasn't pushed and the budding friendship budding between them and the bit of him that Beau has elected to carry on.
Another few heartbeats as she feels Beau's body being to sag back against her before Jester comes tumbling out accompanied by the now familiar hiss of the sphere. She's bloody and trembling, tears in her eyes and hair singed at the edges as she takes in the scene before burying her face in Notts shoulder. Beau slumps against Yasha in relief, resting all of her weight against the taller woman for a few glorious moments, accepting the offered warmth and comfort while unintentionally pushing away the unsettled bundle of loneliness that had been building in Yasha's gut, truly not having expected the Monk to take the offerened comfort so plainly.
They regroup and speak to the crew after Twiggy is released from the sphere, tales of the dragon that she had killed that had clearly rocked the party.
And then she's angry, it builds and builds threatening to boil over as the realisation of how close she came to losing all of them. She'd have had no clue, wouldn't have known how to get into the sphere to confirm, would have been left alone again and she's furious and afraid.
Walks off before anyone really has a chance to say anything to her, not wanting to lash out, fingers twitching with the need to hit something, to hurt and bleed, to give into the burning rage that simmers just beneath the surface of her thoughts.
-
Yasha finds herself pacing outside the door to Beau and Jesters quarters a few hours later, having heard them talking quietly not long after Twiggy's departure. Half hoping that Jester returns to the room first, isn't quite sure what she'll do should Beau show up alone, the mingling rage and desperation making her thoughts jumbled and sporadic.
"Heyyyy, Yasha!" It's tired, the voice more raspy and lacking Beau's usual flirtatious enthusiasm.
She looks up, sees the Monk leaning in an exhausted heap against the wall. Having cleaned up a bit, the healing from Caduceus having done her some good and it catches Yasha just how beautiful Beau looks like this. A little banged up, eyes just a bit red rimmed from tears she knows will never be admitted to, the tired smirk pulling at soft looking lips.
Something breaks loose in her, just a bit, almost like jumping off a precipice that she hadn't been consciously aware of, scary and freeing all at once. The guilt, the loneliness, the fear, that something extra that has always lingered in her when Beau was near all press together to form a tight ache in her chest and she reaches for her without much thought, hands finding solid places on a tightly corded waist to pull the lithe body to her.
Beau gasps quietly, body pressing into her own though a slight wince crosses her face and Yasha is reminded that she did just recently have what sounded like a rather harrowing fight with a dragon.
"Sorry! Sorry.." dropping her hands and backing up, the wave of feeling tempered by the worry of having caused unintentional harm but Beau is shaking her head, tucking herself tightly to Yasha's body and reaching to grab pale hands and tug them back into place around her.
"Don't be, I've never been adverse to a little pain." She says it with a wink and it pulls an eye roll from the taller woman, not really sure she believes Beau but regardless it's not quite the response she's looking for.
"That's not.." a shake of her head as her hands move back to grasp at Beau's waist, closing her eyes with a brief mumble of celestial words as she calls up the healing power and feeling the warmth flow from her chest, down her arms, into her hands and gently urging it into the slightly chilled skin of the body infront of her.
There's a slight sigh from the monk as Beau brings her arms up to rest on her shoulders, hands tugging at the slightly tangled waves of hair, "Woo, I do so love it when you do that."
Yasha huffs at her, grasps a bit firmer and presses the exasperating monk back against the wall earning a soft oof that pulls a genuine smile from her. She hovers a bit, eyes searching the tired face, "I'm going to kiss you now." It comes out more stilted and awkward than she was hoping but she lifts her chin, refusing to let the uncertainty take this moment from her.
Beau's eyes go wide, more alert and the arms around her shoulders tighten as the body under hers presses off the wall just enough to brush against her own, "'kay."
The gentle rocking of the docked ship is more calming than she thought it would be and the brief far off rumbling of a storm embolden her, finally closing the last bit of distance and pressing her lips to the soft ones being offered.
It's a rush, at once familiar and new carrying a brief pang to a heart that she had thought would never again have room for another. But there's a rightness lurking under the pain, like a culmination of something that she's been half running from since that first meeting.
Beau moans quietly and it sparks something in her, calls up that rumbling feeling of worry and abandonment she had been carrying around for the last seven, very long and lonely, days. She presses into her harder, fingers digging more solidly into the warming body, biting lightly at a soft lower lip.
Not sure what response she was expecting from that though the brief growl and increased intensity from Beau is a pleasant surprise. They trade soft kisses and rough bites for several long moments, she gets a hand under Beau's chin and delves wetly into a warm mouth as dusky fingers thread through her hair. After a point she's not sure how much of the rocking movement against each other is them and how much is caused by the gentle swaying of the ocean as the ship pulls away from the dock, pulling back a bit as she remembers that they're still very much outside of the room and on display for any crew or party member that might happen to wander by.
Beau doesn't give her a chance to suggest moving, tugging at her hair and leaning up to bite firmly at her lip to coax Yasha into another long bout of rough kisses until a loud creak of the wooden floor pushes through the fog. Not sure why she thought Beau would be soft and gentle but very happily surprised to see that there's some bite there, that Beau isn't going to just roll over and beg for her.
The monk whines as Yasha finally pulls away, puts some distance between them, taking in the moonliit form and glittering blue eyes, "Co're tahwia." The words get past her lips before she even realises it, seeming to almost harmonise with the still rumbling storm in the distance and Beau looks at her with a charmed, somewhat confused smile.
Beau always seemed to surprise her.
Whether it was a showing of depth and feeling that she clearly didn't let people see often, the brilliance that she hides behind snapping remarks and sharp wit, the intense loyalty despite priding herself on needing no one.
And now, hours later as that once long off storm has moved in close enough to roughly rock the ship under them, an aching guilt tugs at her heart mixing with the longing that had been long denied and the awe at the trust being placed in her that lurks just behind sparking blue eyes.
Yasha is sure there will be dark marks from Beau's teeth and the tight grip from sturdy fingers. Can already feel the deep ache left by strong fingertips along her sides, the sharp pressure from the sucking kisses left along the edges of her breast band and neck.
She hadn't been ready to let Beau touch her more intimately, the once dangerously thrilling thought being replaced by a wave of anxiousness and building guilt as the moment got more real. Perhaps after all this when they're back on land where her and Beau can find a quiet place to talk where the walls didn't have ears she would tell her of Zuala, would warn her of the bite still hidden under her trousers and of the heart that had already been claimed.
But for now her focus is on this, on the selfish need to reassure herself that the monk is still here and the swirling edge of grief that pushes her to leave her own marks on dark skin.
She gets Beau pinned on her stomach, shaking a startled laugh out of the woman, and a hand pressed roughly against cloth covered heat as Beau arches back into her.
"Fuck." a long drawn out groan mumbled into the bedding as Yasha's hand sets a quick rhythm, pressing against the layers of loose trousers and underclothes as Beau shifts back into her touch, "Harder? Please."
It's Yasha's turn to groan at the request, not having expected Beau to concede to the brief bid for dominance, nor to have that word offered up so freely. She's happy to reward it though, pressing harder against the growing heat, free hand tugging Beau up onto her knees so she can urge the breast band free. There's another soft moan as the monk makes a half hearted attempt to help, getting tangled in the layers of cloth with a comfortingly familiar whined "Yashaaaa!" as the taller woman finally moves both hands up to pull her free, a charmed smile tugging at her lips.
Beau drops back down to her elbows once she's bare from the waist up without prompting, hips still lifted and legs spread on either side of Yasha's thighs. There's still a hint of bruising and burn damage left from the earlier battle and there's a fleeting thought to the bit of battle lust she's sure is still pumping it's way out of Beau's system, with that in mind the temptation to tease the edges of that thrumming intensity gentles her touch. Skimming her hands lightly over the fading marks, taking note of the quick inhale and twitch of hips that light pressure on fading bruises brings and the slight flinch that any pressure on the cuts and burn marks results in.
The way Beau gentles at the softened touch tugs at a guarded heart and the brief shift in scent drags a low growl from her chest. It's gone before she can get a clear read on it, a sharp edge that hinted at familiarity.
"Please.." so focused on this new puzzle piece Yasha nearly misses the mumbled plea. Pulled from her thoughts she takes in the trembling skittering along a strong back and the rhythmic clenching of the fingers tangled in the thin bedding.
Hesitating now, desperately wanting to feel the silky wet heat she knows lies under loose trousers, but slowly being consumed by the lingering feeling of betrayal.
That she wants this, wants her, is a hard admission to make and as the hidden mark throbs dully seemingly in time with the pulse she can see jumping under dark skin, it's not a revelation she's yet ready to examine.
A pale hand presses firmly against the layers of cloth once more, soaking in the heat and faint traces of dampness, fingers of her free hand tracing a soft apology up the muscled back as Beau releases a dejected whine before pressing back into her.
There are no more words for a long stretch of time, the soft groaning panting from Beau filling the small room instead. She misses the raspy voice but understands the boundary being established between them, respects that Beau needs to distance herself from this even as her body trembles and eagerly presses back into her touch.
The fingers of her free hand dig into Beau's back as the monk hits her peak, eyes tracking along the lines that lithe muscles carve out of sweat coated skin, teeth biting into her lower lip hard enough to bring the taste of copper as her own forgotten peak threatens to break along with the softly moaning woman in front of her.
It hits her again how strikingly handsome Beau is. There's a growing admiration to the strength of character that seems to finally be edging out as Beau's confidence in herself and her friends grows. Yasha vows to herself that as long as the Storm Lord doesn't call for her she'll stay, for a time at least. She isn't willing to be the one that shakes the monk, refuses to be the one that feeds into Beau's assumption that everyone leaves her, especially after tonight.
That resolve hits as Beau finally drops full to the bed, boneless and letting out a soft sigh of content, that scent hits her again. Full on this time, the rough tinge of alpha tumbling off the relaxing monk strong enough to pull an unexpected gasp from Yasha's lips. Eyes squeezing shut against the onslaught of disjointed memories of the last time she had left her alpha spent and trembling.
Zuala and her scents mingling pleasantly, the near glow of her mating mark left on a pleasantly muscled inner thigh, the light hearted teasing of her own superior alpha stamina pulling an indigent snort and amused curl of her mates kiss swollen lips.
Yasha feels the tears threatening to fall, pulling back and removing all points of skin contact between them. Beau grumbles briefly but a quick inhale brings a receding of that compelling scent and creak of the bed as Beau seems to move.
"Yasha?" it's quiet, a voice filled with worry and hesitation.
But she doesn't respond, can't respond. Her heart hurts, her body calls for the heat and softness of the monks dusky skin, the material of her trousers feels rough and heavy against her mark.
They sit in silence for a long stretch of heartbeats before the warring alpha scent is replaced with the subtle, more beta aligned one she's used to from Beau, and Yasha finally feels in control enough to blink open slightly damp eyes.
Beau sits in front of her, still bare from the waist up, a calmness being projected despite the slight clenching of her jaw and slight trembling of fingers that push the wayward strands of hair out of her face.
"Sorry," they say in unison pulling a surprised widening of cloudy blue eyes and a startled laugh from Yasha.
Beau offers a hesitant smile, scratching idly at the back of her neck, "I'd have... Mentioned it had I... Well had I thought this," a hand wave between them "would ever actually happen."
A safer topic, she notes, Beau could have rightfully pressed her on her reaction to the revelation but instead as usual was willing to sacrifice her own comfort instead.
Yasha hopes the gratitude she's feeling comes across and the slight shrug of a bare shoulder and quirk of bruised lips suggests that it thankfully had.
"I thought," she swallows awkwardly, not quite sure how to explore this subject without makes more assumptions about the woman who she doesn't honestly know very well.
"My parents weren't happy about it." Beau offers up, sparing Yasha the awkward fumbling of words and she nods a bit, quietly encouraging whatever Beau is willing to share.
"Humans don't usually present one way or the other unless they've been touched by something else," the gaze goes distant and brows furrow.
Yasha hesitates, wanting to offer comfort but not sure how welcomed it would be.
"But anything would have been better than an alpha, an omega would have been inconvenient but at least that would have been useful, which my father made sure to remind me of frequently. So I learned to hide it."
"Impressive." the word slips past her lips without thought, startling her and she worries for a moment that she's overstepped, and offended. But as Yasha's eyes lock with the blue ones across from her and she finds herself reassured by the clearly preening monk.
"I always thought so!" There's a familiar smirk now and a pleasing quirk of an eyebrow, "So yeah. Normally I can keep a handle on it but there are… Moments where it pushes through. Sorry about blasting you without warning."
She carefully rests a hand on a cloth covered knee, trying to avoid lingering on the dusky peaks as her eyes sweep over the lithe body with new understanding, now that the ever lingering heartache has receded to its familiar corner of her mind the simmering passion creeps back in.
Yasha wrestles with what to say, if questions should be asked, if reassurances need to be given when a loud crash of thunder shatters the pregnant silence lingering between them and chases away the words lingering on her tongue.
Beau sighs, shoulders slumping, "guess that's your queue huh?" she's trying for light hearted but there's a clear tightness behind the words.
Her grip on Beau's knee tightens for a moment before she pushes herself off the bed and slowly makes her way to door as she rights her top.
There's another loud break of thunder that almost feels like it's calling her out of this space and up onto the deck.
Yet another as her hand rests on the wood of the door, this one seems to push forth the lead weight of guilt in her gut.
Yasha swallow thickly and chances a glance over her shoulder at the monk, the thunder rumbling out its impatience, "I am not leaving."
The words seem silly, as clearly she is, but she truly hopes Beau understands her intent. That she isn't leaving her as much as she isn't leaving the group again.
The slumped shoulders push back as Beau straightens her posture and locks her eyes with Yasha's. There's a charming tilt to her head and hesitant curl of her lips as lighting chases the rumble and crashes bright and scolding past the small porthole over a bared shoulder, the intensity waring with the sparking brightness of blue eyes.
Beau nods just a bit and its acceptance enough that she feels safe to finally leave the room, following the call of the harsh sounds of rain and booming thunder to the deck of their ship.