Hey all, I'm alive a kicking. College is a bitch and work is...going fairly well, and I've had a lot of things on my plate. Busy as a damned honeybee, that's me! I barely finished this in time for the start of Lavilena week 2k15, and it might be a bit weird because I squeaked it out at 3am in a rush of inspiration year day morning after remembering that yes, it was starting yesterday. I fell asleep and shit, so I forgot to post until now. I do hope it's enjoyable at the very least.
Disclaimer: Hoshino-sensei owns all characters that appear and DGM stuff in general, I'm just hopping into her sandbox for a spin.
8th: Promise
Lena reminisces on Lavi's promise to come back alive and in one piece if he can help it, and how horribly wrong that day went when he was captured and everything else went to hell at once. Holding his spare bandana makes her feel as if Lavi is closer as she rushes to free him after getting news of Lavi's location.
"Gee, Lenalady. I'll do my best to come back alive and in one piece, even if I can't escape a few bruises and a bit of blood."
"I had better not need to come rescue you, Lavi. Take care of yourself!"
"And same to you, Lenalady. We'd all be in a world of trouble with you brother if anything happened to you, princess."
"I'll be careful, just promise me you'll do the same."
"I promise, 'Kay? Oh! Just in case, have this. You never know what'll happen out there, and maybe it'll make a nice substitute until we're back!"
"Lavi…"
"Please? I have a spare, you can hold on to this one for me as a token. It's my favorite, so you better not lose it."
"If you say so. Just remember your promise, or I'll be very upset with you."
Lenalee presses her palm against her heart, settling the folded bundle of cloth against her uniform and wanting nothing more than to be handing it back to its owner with a fondly exasperated smile as he accepted it with his usual exaggerated flattery. Seeing him safe and healthy and whole again, seeing him home with that cheeky roguish grin and twinkling emerald eye...if only that had come to pass. But alas, it was not to be, 'not yet,' she thinks.
Lavi and Kanda and Allen all vanished in a matter of days after the disaster, with Kanda presumed dead, Allen presumed traitor, and Lavi presumed missing. Each loss hurt like blades burying within her flesh and twisting until the agony of their losses made her want to scream in incoherent rage towards the heavens for taking away her boys and throwing everything and everyone left behind into further chaos. No number of tears nor pleads would bring them back, for God was cruel and waiting only made the ache grow sharper, and the thoughts of Kanda searching for Allen are for now placed aside in favor of Lavi's imprisonment and torture.
The bandana is warm and soft beneath her fingers. She lifts it in her hand and gazes down on the familiar pattern, the faint scent of ink and musky woodsmoke teasing her nose as she inhales long gulps of air through her nose. She is trying (and very nearly failing) to do her best at keeping calm. Keeping calm means a cooler head, rational decisions, precise control and application of power, safer odds. Any wrong moves can doom them all, especially the one they are coming to retrieve. But the thought of seeing Lavi broken and battered at the hands of his captors births a rage that burns like fire in her blood and chills like ice in her mind, clarifying and sharpening the world around her while twisting her heart into knots comparable to a yarn ball after a kitten has gotten hold of it.
It was only yesterday that they finally confirmed the location where Lavi and Bookman are being held in Noah custody, and the finder who gave the report was grim faced as he mentioned what the servant had told him of Lavi's condition. Knowing what to expect hasn't stopped her mind from spinning imaginary play-by-plays of worst cases scenarios, and she bites her lip as she attempts to force away the dark thoughts that circle her mind like a pack of wolves stalking a wounded deer, refusing to truly leave their weakened prey for long, lying in wait ready to tear holes in her resolve and her control over her emotions.
"Y'know, despite what some people seem to think, you're rather cynical. You want the best option but always think of the worst too." The words surprised her when he spoke them that day, but at the time he had laughed it off and she put the matter to rest. But in truth, she knows just what he meant and accepts the knowledge with a heavy heart full of leaden truth.
Lenalee knows all too well the price of war, had paid it in blood, sweat, tears, and ashes for years upon years. She has lost people, killed, fought, and protected until she was as worn as a frayed string and taut as a raw nerve singing with tension, on the edge of snapping and plummeting down from the precarious edge that she balances upon. The chance of losing him too is almost impossible to think of.
Not quite a woman and long since past childhood, she is a soldier and an exorcist who has witnessed, committed, and been subjected to atrocities of many kinds. The Chinese girl is no innocent despite the efforts of those who care, and she accepted this mission knowing that there is a high risk that she might die in the attempt to win him free. Even so, the thought of staying at the hell Headquarters has become and waiting for news of success or failure without being able to help...it almost makes her physically ill to consider.
The carriage grinds to a halt, and Lenalee can hear Marie and Miranda murmuring, and see Krory bare his teeth as Klaud Nyne shifts in her seat with the readiness of a coiled snake. They have arrived at the closest spot they can and the time to attack in in mere moments. Anticipation and a dash of fear quickens her breath as they slide free and stride through the streets towards the dark mansion where the Noah dwell, obviously not expecting their arrival if the lack of akuma is any indication. 'It's time,' she thinks, and the rushing adrenaline in her veins matches the unravelling crystals at her ankles, the familiar weight and pressure of her innocence settling against her legs and pulses of power caressing her skin.
What is a promise? A sacred oath? An assurance? A lie told to comfort? Theirs was a serious affair hidden beneath layers of teasing and affectionate banter, a longing to see each other safe and sound expressed privately in word and deed (even with Bookman looking with disapproval upon them when they returned from their private conversation.) She kept her word and though he broke his it was through no real fault of his own. As the one who is not trapped in a haze of pain and torment she has the duty to get him out and bring him home. It is a part their promise, after all.
It's a bit short but oh well, I'm done with this one. Flames will be ignored, comments and constructive criticism are appreciated. Bye, I have class in eight hours do ?I should settle down for the night.