Two-shot, post 3x07. I'll probably have the next chapter up by Tuesday. This is a small moment between Amanda and Irisa, then the next will be with Nolan and Irisa (because I'm a one trick pony and their relationship is like the #1 reason I watch the show).
Irisa crumbled into the metal chair behind the desk back in the lawkeeper's office, her face in her hands.
She wouldn't cry, at least, not anymore than she already had. Amanda was still here. She could wait until she left.
Amanda had guided Irisa back to the office after her meltdown in the town square. She heard her father giving the recruits one of his pep talks, but she heard it faintly, like her mind was clouded with fog and she was still trying to make sense of her surroundings—what was real and what was her own imagining. She could hear her father's words echoing in her head: "My daughter is not weak." Those five words wracked her body with guilt. Yes, yes she was. Defiance was facing an almost certain defeat; if Defiance was David, then the Votanis Collective was Goliath. Irisa wasn't so sure that Defiance could imitate the story's ending however. And while the only place she could consider 'home' was staring into the lion's den, what was she doing? Having a panic attack right in front of the town's defenders, possibly shaking their resolve. The Amazing Goddess of the Badlands (Irzu, how she hated Mordecai for writing that damn book) broke down in front of them, how could they still believe that they had any hope of beating the VC? Here she was, sitting in the lawkeeper's office, too weak to keep fighting. Nolan was wrong about her. He usually was.
She let her fingers trace the braids on the side of her head. The braids were the one thing she could remember her mother teaching her. She couldn't remember much before the cult, but she had a scarce few memories of her Irathient birth parents: one was sitting in the grass in front of her mother, while the woman whose face she couldn't quite recall brushed and twisted her orange hair. Braids were worn as an Irathient rite of passage, she had learned much later from Sukar. She figured this morning that returning to killing could count as a rite of passage for her. Apparently it was a rite she wasn't ready for. Not yet. The thought of killing anyone again amde her stomach churn-even if was Rahm Tak, a man who killed in hatred and cold blood.
She felt a light hand on her back. "Irisa?"
Oh, shtak. Amanda was still here. Irisa thought she'd left to rejoin the recruits, to make sure that they were still up for fighting the VC. She lifted her head, not letting an emotion cross her face. Amanda had already seen her break down, cradling an invisible, dead man's head in her lap. She wasn't sure if she could handle that embarrassment.
But Amanda's eyes held nothing but kindness and concern. Of course. She was too caring for her own good. At least, that's what Nolan would have told her when she was younger. Kindness and caring got you killed. She wondered if he still harbored those beliefs somewhere inside him. He didn't talk like that anymore, but Irisa was sure something like that didn't just go away.
"I'm fine," she tried to respond, but the words caught in her throat. She felt hot tears sting her already tired, bloodshot eyes. She directed her gaze at the desk underneath her, unwilling to meet the mayor's own eyes.
"It's okay to not be fine, Irisa." Amanda crouched down, so that she was eye level with Irisa. The Irath girl looked at her once more. "It's okay to mourn him."
"But I killed him," Irisa's voice was barely above a whisper. "He's dead because of me. Because he got too close to me."
"I have a feeling that Nolan has already gone over why you didn't kill him, the Arkbrain did." Amanda told her frankly. "And I think that it's not just guilt over Tommy that you're feeling." She paused before continuing. "I think it's fear of disappointing Nolan. And I think it's a little bit of rebellion, too."
Irisa couldn't believe that Amanda thought that her meltdown had to do with some misguided attempt at teenage rebellion. And she must have looked incredulous, too, because Amanda explained her thoughts further.
"Nolan didn't tell me a lot of what happened that day that you and he were linked, but he did say that he felt guilty for raising you to be so okay with killing. He did say that forcing a child to kill was one of the heaviest things on his conscience. And you and I both know that that has to be one crowded conscience."
"I think, subconsciously, you are rebelling against what you were taught as a little girl, because it's caused you so much stress as an adult. I think the whole ordeal of the past year had eroded your mental health."
Irisa nodded. "You're probably right about that one." She smirked. "I guess Nolan was right about the PTSD."
Amanda gave her a sweet smile in return. "Sometimes he can surprise you," she said as she stood. She straightened her brown leather jacket and glanced out the window, where the back of the recruits who were still practicing could be seen.
"And I think in the end, Defiance will be able to count on you." With that, she left, leaving Irisa alone to deal with her words and the ache they left in her chest.