Pairing(s): Sam/Lara, Sam/Himiko.
Spoiler(s): The entire/latter half of Tomb Raider (2013).
Warning(s): Forced impregnation.
Word Count: 1,763
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The Sound of Waves on the Shoreline
The dress feels like gentle sand on her skin - rolls of cotton and silk. If Sam were a poet, she would call it the grace of clouds. But Sam is not a poet - poets do not get themselves wrapped up into futile messes, they do not endanger themselves or their friends. She is a documentor, she years for the camera, to watch the world as it goes by. But Yamatai ... Yamatai was like the world had collapsed into itself, eras and decades all melding together into one city.
It was a dream that quickly became a nightmare. She remembers the cultists, chanting and cheering, praising for Himiko to devour her body in sacrifice. Himiko saved her, and only the reality of what it meant would sink in after.
She would like to believe that Lara could save - would save her - but Sam learns not to expect too much when Sam is eventually pulled away. She tries to be brave, like Lara and Ross, but her chest is heavy and fear tastes bitter. Her eyes sting, but she does not cry.
There are youkai dancing along her vision, edging along the pathways - or perhaps they were soldiers wearing the skins of monster. Solves masquerading as sheep. They all blended together - they were the same, in her eyes. Nobody could save her, not when Mathias dragged her along and the winds tore at the foundations of buildings.
The men worship the ground she walks, clearing a path to the temple, and it is achingly easy to get there. Her only hope is Lara, but Sam is afraid that she is dead, that the youkai-soldiers had killed her.
The ceremony begins. Mathias is chanting, his voice bellowing loudly and clearly, and he hesitates for nothing, except to adjust the laurel crown atop her head. She is sickened at his touch - he feels filthy, but then again, so was she.
She isn't aware of much that is going on, only hears the wailing of the corpse before her. It is dressed in ancient robes, things sherecognises but cannot place in her terror. In her mind's eye, there is only Himiko and her.
You will do nicely.
It is seductive and low, a purr against her ear, a throbbing in her head that disillusions her from everything around her.
There is a commotion behnid her, buy she is barely aware of it, barely aware of gunshots firing and the solid crunch of yokais falling to their deaths, the sound of tile and rubble falling and touching the sky all at once in the mother of storms.
Himiko, for all the maliciousness in her heart and body, does not let Sam come to harm. Or Mathias, but he is performing the ceremony. Suddenly, he stops, looking up at Sam, who is dangling like a ragdoll, barely comprehending anything beyond the foreign press of tendrils in her skin. She feels like she's becoming detached from this. Sam is dying, she knows.
"There are other ways for you to become a host; other ways for the Sun Queen to live again," Mathias shouts to her, with a sneer. There's a wild look in her eyes. She is too disorientated, too lost in the bodily onslaught that she feels that she cannot react, cannot let her mind think about what he means.
Like the whole experience on the island, things happen in an instant. Mathias is shot down, and Sam can barely recognise Lara from beyond the blackened haze shrouding her eyes. She feels like she's seeing and feeling everything down a tunnel, like everything is just an awful dream. Like it wasn't real.
I will live again. Do not doubt me.
The power that has raised Sam, suspending her in the air, is suddenly dragging itself out from her pores, and the pain comes back in a bruising fashion - she feels like she has been hit by a truck. She sees the corpse, sees the withered skin and the dead eyes stare at her.
Do not doubt my power.
Sam isn't coherently aware of what happens - she opens her mouth to let out a shuddering gasp, and physical energy pours into her mouth. It is semi-solid, not quite malleable but it goes down quick and rough. It is like lightning, red hot fire burning her lips and her mouth anf tongue as it pours down her throat. It makes heat spread out from within her body. She cannot throw up, cannot spit it out - there is too much and she is not strong enough. Perhaps she was never strong enough.
A piercing wail shatters through her mind - she is unaware of her collapsing, of her knees buckling and her body hitting the slab of rock beneath her.
Lara is suddenly standing over her, face full of soot and eyes full of sorrow. "You are too late," Sam cries, and her voice is hoarse. She feels like she's spinning down a dark, numb tunnel. She is inside of me.
Sam awakens in a bed. The dress has been shed from her skin, her various cuts and scrapes tended to. Lara is sitting next to her bed, the chair propped backwards so that she's straddling the flat slab of wood, arms resting against the top. She looks tired and worn, but she sends Sam a relieved smile when she sees that she's awake.
Sam's gut feels warm when she sees Lara smile at her. "Are we okay?" She asks, licking her cracked lips. Lara blinks at her tiredly, mouth working slightly. Sam idly notices the press of bandages to Lara's temple, the medical tape binding a slice through her eyebrows. There's small tiny scars littering her toning arms, ones that Sam knows she hadn't had before. Lara's usually kind and soft eyes are hard, but Sam does not doubt that Lara does not care for her.
"We are safe - I carried you to this rescue ship," the English woman says, and she licks her lips.
"You came back for me," Sam says, voice cracking. She feels thirst stab her throat, and she feels terribly dehydrated, so she doesn't know why her eyes feel wet.
"I told you I would," Lara says, brown eyes wide and wondering. "Sam, you're important go me." There's so much that Sam reads into that sentence, so much that she hopes for, but she is tired and Lara's presence comforts her. It is another secret that she would think about another day.
"Thank you," she whispers, voice failing her. Lara smiles uneasily, almost nervously, as if she doesn't know how to act around people anymore, and reaches out to cup Sam's hand. Lara's fingers are calloused but warm. Sam almost cries at the comfort.
"Are you hungry, Sam? Thirsty?" Lara had a way of saying Sam's name like she was a prayer and Lara a priestess, like she is still amazed at Sam's very presence.
"No," she says, even though she would like some water. Her stomach feels full, and there's a weight to it that makes her believe she isn't hungry. Mathias and the Disciples of the Sun had fed her, so she issnt surprised.
"Is there anything you need?"
"You," she does not hesitate in saying. Lara blinks at her. "I need you to stay with me until I wake up. Protect me from my dreams." She is being brutally honest, she knows, but she doesn't want to be alone, not anymore.
The folds of skin next to Lara's mouth crinkles, like she's fighting off a smile. "Alright," she hums, then stands up from the chair. Sam moves from her spot on the bed so that she's cuddling with the wall, although she is slow in doing so - she feels heavy and sluggish, different than before. She quick to return to Lara's side when she slips in beneath the covers, and let's out a soft appreciative noise when she feels the English woman's palms press against her hips.
She sees something like unease flit across Lara's face, but it disappears quickly. Sam feels tired and worn, and won't accept this distance between them, so she presses herself to Lara's side. Unlike before, it's uncomfortable, and she feels simultaneously like there is too much and not enough space between them.
Hesitantly, almost mournfully, she exposes her back to Lara and he comforting gestures. Sam let's out a shuddering breath when she feels Lara hesitantly press around her back, arms folding around her. Lara's arms are a comforting weight.
She would like to believe that she is safe, that Lara would protect her like she always has. She had just closed her eyes when she felt it again - a strange twitch in her lower abdomen. Her eyes fly open; she does not feel Lara's dozed breath on her hair, no longer feels the other's comfort.
Slowly, she presses a hand to the flat of her abdomen, touching the skin through the loose shirt that she wore. Sam completely stills when she feels something press against her hand. Suddenly she knows. Her shoulders shake, and she leans away from Lara, not wanting to disturb her.
"You okay?" So much for that plan.
"Can't sleep," she promises, her voice surprisingly strong. She folds her knees slightly, listens to Lara's considering hum before the brunette slowly shifts forward to pull Sam to her chest, pressing her lips to the Asian's shoulder blade.
"I'll protect you," is what Lara tiredly murmurs.
Sam feels tears moisten her eyes, but she does not cry - her pride does not let her. The foreign sensation of the swell of her stomach makes her want to throw up, to press her hands to her stomach and rid herself of the abomination - but she doubted it would even work.
"Thank you," she says voice cracking. Lara says nothing, but gives her what Sam supposed was a comforting squeeze of her toned arms.
"There are other ways for you to become a host - other ways for the Sun Queen to live again."
Sam closes her eyes, willing for sleep to overtake her, not wanting to stay awake in this living nightmare. In her dreams, she is safe, in her dreams there is only Lara and her smile, the sound of whales and the gentle bob of the ship. In her dreams, the reincarnation of Himiko was not growing inside of her.
In her dreams, she was immortal and nothing could harm her. For hours afterwards, there was nothing but sleepless wonder and horror.