This was originally for kiertina week (set up on Tumblr) but I couldn't complete it in time.
All characters in this story belong to Cassandra Clare I am just using them for my own creative enjoyment.
Cristina found herself outside of Mark's room for the second time that day.
In both hands, she carried a tray of food, which she awkwardly balanced on one arm to tentatively raise a hand to knock, but hesitated for a moment when she saw the plate of untouched food by the wall next to the door that she had left there night before. Closing her eyes, she rapped her knuckles on the wood twice, then opened the door. The bed was empty and made. The curtains were drawn. She quickly looked around to check Mark wasn't there, then left the room, placing the tray of food next to the door and picking up the other plate.
Well, at least Mark had left his room today.
It had been nearly a week since Livvy's death. Five days since the Blackthorn family had been ripped apart, and Cristina could only watch as everyone fell apart around her. She had cared for Livvy, grieved for her, but it wasn't the same for her, having known her for only weeks.
The entire family had been shattered. Diana had had to remain in Idris for a few extra days, though for exactly what, Cristina didn't know. As soon as they had arrived back at the Los Angeles Institute, Ty had confined himself to his room, Kit and Julian the only visitors he occasionally allowed in. When Julian wasn't trying to console Ty, he was focusing all his energy on Tavvy, Dru had disappeared into many of her hiding places within the Institute. Cristina had seen her four times that week. Emma was channeling her grief into exercise and training; the last time she had left the training room was yesterday morning after she gave in to Cristina's constant pleading for her to eat a decent sized meal, and Mark…
Mark had been okay. At least on the first day. She guessed that it was the shock that had kept him going, kept him at the highest standard of normalcy he could bear. Until the next morning, when the entire family except Ty had drifted down for breakfast. They had been making small attempts to comfort each other when a fire message arrived, informing them that Helen had been forced to return to Wrangel Island until further notice. Ever since then, Mark had barely left his room, had had a total of three conversations with Cristina, and had eaten hardly any of the food she was giving him.
Eventually at a loss at what else to do, Cristina had written to Diego, asking him to send Kieran back to the Institute for a couple of days, after sending a letter to her mother assuring her that she was safe, and he had arrived yesterday evening. After exchanging a few terse words with him that served as an explanation of the situation, he had instantly gone to Mark's room. The fact that she hadn't seen either of them since then was, to her, a good sign.
She let the door close behind her with a soft click and turned back down the corridor. She paused as she heard low voices. Mark rounded the corner with Kieran, whose hair was a stark black. They were speaking in a harsh, guttural language, and they looked as though they were having an argument. Both fell silent when they saw Cristina, but Mark continued to walk past both of them to his door.
"Mark-"
"It's okay, Cristina." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He bent down and picked up the plate of food she had just left. "Thank you." He seemed to notice her doubt because he stepped forward. "I'll speak to you later?" He phrased it as a hopeful question. She nodded back in relief and smiled as he opened his door and closed it behind him.
Kieran, whose hair was now a murky purple colour, turned to Cristina. "He said he wants time by himself, but he's going to talk to his siblings and is coming downstairs for dinner later." He said, almost as an extension to what Mark had said.
She smiled, even though it felt awkward. "Thank you for coming. I think Mark really needed you." She began walking back down the corridor and Kieran followed her. They walked in silence for a few moments.
"Would you like me to carry that for you?" He suddenly offered.
"No, thank you."
The rest of the walk down to the kitchen was met with silence. Cristina set the plate down on the table, then wrapped it in cling film to store in the fridge. All throughout, Kieran remained quiet, his hand tapping on his leg at his side. His hair colour hadn't changed and his eyes were unfocused.
She took his upper arm gently in her hand. He looked down at her, eyes wide.
"Walk with me, Kieran." She said, leading him to the door, not entirely sure what she was doing.
"Where are we going?" He asked, bewildered. "What about Mark?"
"Mark will be okay without us for a few minutes. I think you need some fresh air." She said calmly. "We both do."
She had let go of his arm, and he was keeping stride beside her now. She opened the front door and kept walking until her shoes were filling with sand grains. The ocean stretched out before her, the waves rolling peacefully a few feet away from her. Kieran stopped next to her, and she gave him a playful grin as she wriggled her feet out of her shoes buried her toes in the soft, cool sand. She looked at Kieran. "Your turn."
"What are you doing?"
Cristina smiled. "Just humour me."
She waited until he bent down to pull his feet out of his trainers, which were really probably Diego's, and had tentatively pressed his bare feet into the sand, before treading into the water, letting it touch her toes. The sudden coldness made her skin tingle, and she sucked in a deep breath as she adjusted to the temperature. Kieran laughed as she huddled in on herself, and stepped boldly into the water, marching a few steps in front of her until his feet were covered and the hem of his trousers were soaked.
"Have you ever been in the ocean in the human world?"
"A few times, but not often. I find it too salty."
"Well," Cristina smiled. "It has its unforeseen perks."
He remained quiet for several moments, long enough that she thought he wasn't going to speak again. "So why the sudden change of scenery?"
"Mark said you were a water faerie. I thought the ocean might make feel you feel better."
Kieran was staring down at the water swirling around his ankles, but she saw his mouth curve up into a smile. His hair was fading into a tranquil sky blue.
"What makes you think that I was ill-tempered?"
Cristina turned to face him, surprised by the question and worried she'd somehow offended him, but caught the edge of his smirk, and felt a smile tug at her mouth.
"I didn't mean that!" she said with a laugh. "you just…seemed upset. You and Mark. You looked like you were having an argument."
Kieran closed his eyes, and she looked away from him, shocked that she'd been that forward.
"I'm sorry, we don't need to talk about it-"
"It's okay." He interrupted. She looked up and saw that he was staring at her, bright bicoloured eyes staring into hers. She couldn't tear her gaze away. "I don't mind talking about it with you." He swirled a foot in the water. "Mark was reminiscing about his sister, and his family, and became overwhelmed, and in a break in the conversation, I tried to change the topic by mentioning our time in the Wild Hunt to take his mind off bad memories." He bowed his head. "I think my intentions were misunderstood, and to Mark, that I tried to change the conversation meant that I didn't care to listen to him about his sister. Despite my attempts at reassurance, he distanced himself."
"I-" Cristina paused and bit her lip nervously. "I know it's hard to know what to say. And knowing you may have said the wrong thing can make you feel helpless." She glanced at Kieran, before casting her eyes down at the waves.
"I look at not just Mark, but Emma too, and I never seem to know the right thing to do or say. They are both so important to me, and then they lost someone important to them and I can't even imagine how hard it is for them to process right now." Surprisingly, she felt lighter at the admission, like a weight had been lifted from her chest.
"I feel helpless too." Kieran whispered. She looked back over at him, but his eyes were downcast. "When you love someone, you want to protect them, but grief and loss are things I cannot help Mark with. I don't know what it's like to lose a sibling you cherish." He closed his eyes and his fist clenched. "I can't do anything but watch his pain and wish it away, or just say something and hope I don't somehow make it worse."
Cristina nodded in understandment and encouragement. "I know."
Kieran remained quiet for several moments. He opened his mouth and then closed it, seeming to struggle with his words, or perhaps changing his mind.
"Can we talk about something else please?" He eventually whispered. His eyes were still downcast, and she could feel how uncomfortable he was.
"Of course." Cristina let her arms fall to her sides. "Was there anything you had in mind?"
Kieran shook his head, and in response turned to face the Institute and fell back into the water, letting the waves envelope him. The water splashed against her legs, soaking her trousers and she gave an undignified, surprised squeal, and kicked water back at him. He laughed suddenly, his smile lighting his face and pushed his damp hair out of his eyes.
"Was that necessary?" She smiled.
"Of course." He leaned back onto his hands, and another wave crashed into his shoulders.
"How are you not cold?" She shivered, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.
"Well, I am a little." He admitted. "But I get used to it quickly." He held his hands up towards her, palms facing downwards, cocking his head and smiling slightly in an invitation. She smiled back and reached out to grab his hands and help him up. He suddenly tugged at her hands, his smile now mischievous, and yanked her down.
She yelled out in surprise as she hit the water, feeling it soak through her trousers and the hem of her shirt. She sprung onto her knees as the shock of the cold ran down her spine and hunched her shoulders as she adjusted to the temperature. Kieran grinned at her reaction, the dazzling sort of grin that made it hard to look away or avoid grinning back.
"I guess that was what I had in mind." He said. He gave her hand a squeeze, and she realised that he was still clutching it, looking at her with something akin to fondness.
She let out a laugh. "I'm glad one of us can find entertainment." She joked.
There was a quiet pause for several moments, and for a second she thought she had ruined the previously light hearted mood, then Kieran pulled her arm closer to him and brushed a piece of seaweed from her wrist, the same wrist which had had the binding spell on, she realised, still holding her hand.
They were suddenly inches apart now. She felt herself blushing furiously at his proximity, and all she could think about was the night in Faerie that she tended to him, his hand gripping her wrist tightly as he had stared at her with his night sky eyes. It was not that dissimilar to how he was staring at her now, his eyes flickering over her face and hovering on her lips. He leaned in closer, his hand still pressed warmly against her wrist. Their noses bumped together gently as he turned his head, pressing his lips against hers.
She sighed into his lips in surprise at the sudden softness of him against her, instinctively moving her lips tentatively against his and reaching into his damp hair with one hand, curling her fingers in it. As soon as she touched him, he gave a small moan into her mouth, and she felt his hand come to press delicately against her cheek, fingers curving round the back of her neck. She felt herself moving closer into his arms, their bodies pressing together, the world fell away. For a moment, she was safe and there was no grief, just a feeling of warmth, and of being safe, excluded from the entire world, and of Kieran.
Then Kieran pulled away sharply, shoving his hands beneath the water. Her skin still felt warm where he had touched it, and subconsciously she could feel her fingers touching her lips, but she reached out for him, to reassure him as she saw his growing upset. "Kieran-"
"I-I know, that was misguided of me, I apologise, I shouldn't have done that." Kieran stuttered, averting his eyes sharply to the ground. His hair had become a swirl of dark, unhappy blues. Cristina again felt his pain, his embarrassment, like a shadow at the back of her mind.
"No no, it's...I get it." She said quickly, trying to comfort him. "Someone we both care about is hurting, and when we can't help them, it makes us hurt too. And it makes us want to stop feeling that way."
"It wasn't just that, I don't...it's-" he struggled to finish his sentence for a few moments. He touched his chest, right on his heart. "My heart truly feels something for you. Similar, to what I feel for Mark." He paused, and dropped his hand to his side. "But that was not how I was intending to show it."
Cristina stared at him for a moment, quite shocked at his forwardness, and breathed in deeply. The salty taste of the air seemed to sober her, and she rose onto her knees. Kieran looked at her curiously, and she realised that she hadn't replied.
"Oh um," her mind went blank as she searched for a response. "Thank you, for your honesty Kieran." She folded her hands in her lap, scanning her mind desperately for the appropriate words to describe her feelings.
"We should go back inside and check on Mark." She blurted out suddenly. She stood up sharply, embarrassed by her behaviour, the urge to escape the ocean suddenly overpowering, and waded out of the water, huddling herself against the cool air.
"Cristina!" Kieran called out, sounding anxious. She turned around at the tone of his voice and saw him splashing out into the sand after her, looking fearful, his hair the colour of ashes.
"I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable in being so forward Cristina, that was not my intent." He sounded nervous. He was rubbing his hands together, his eyes averting hers, and she realised how her quickness to leave might have been perceived as a rejection, and not of shock, of being overwhelmed. "If it is what you desire, I will never speak of this matter again." She wondered if all faeries had the ability to state their concerns, their feelings when regarding someone else so plainly, so matter of factly. Kieran managed it well.
"You didn't make me uncomfortable, Kieran." She assured him. "I'm sorry, I didn't think, or realise that I had come across that way. I think the shock and horror of this entire week have been so overwhelming for me, and I didn't even ever expect anything like this to occur today and I'm-" she explained as gently as she could. She looked at her fingers, interlocking them together anxiously as she carefully considered her next words. "Confused. Upset, for the Blackthorns, for Livvy, for Mark and Emma, and so terrified for whatever the future may now bring, what's going to happen to all of us. This is something I have to think about, and it is unfortunate for both of us, and Mark, that this is not the most important thing for us to be thinking about right now."
He nodded, looking somewhat disappointed but less nervous. "I understand. Our survival, Mark's grief, is what we need to focus on."
"Yes." She said. "But-" she touched her chest, as he had done, to show the significance of his feelings was important to her. "I feel something for you too."
He gave a slight smile then, and stretched out a hand to brush a strand of damp hair from her cheek. "Thank you for your kindness, Lady of Roses."
She smiled then; she couldn't help it. Her skin tingled where he had touched it. They both stood together for a moment, in each other's orbits, before they broke apart, both agreeing upon seeking the warmth of the Institute. She turned to grab her shoes, shaking the sand off of them, when she heard him speak, so quietly and tentatively that the sea nearly stole it away.
"So, we are...we are still friends?"
She is my-and Mark-
She smiled sadly at his hesitation. Once again she was reminded of how lonely he must have been in the Courts, surrounded by people you never knew you could trust. How lonely he must feel now, unsure of the future to come, unsure of Mark's safety and happiness, and his own.
She extended a hand towards him, and after a moment, he took it, a small smile gracing his face. She threaded their fingers together and smiled back.
"Of course we are."
Thank you for reading!