A/n: As always, I apologize for the lateness, but at least this chapter is a teensy bit on the longer side (for me.)
TheBosnianWizard- Mmmm we already had Selvi, and look how great that turned out
CorporalNoob- Shoot, you're right. :/
Seth Darkcloud- Anytime! Ehh I'm sure I'll get over it- everyone does eventually. Thanks!
Ulcaasi- *heart*
The Greek Geek 3012- :3 yes, please!
ChickenChops- Something bad aaaaaalways happens. It's their thing.
SuchGoodFLuff- the fluff…. Was it good?!
ChloeMorrison- Oh, wow :o thank you for reading it all, and welcome to the OTP! Thank you very much c: Your compliments mean a lot!
Lyraa- I think we all deserved some good old fluff. C: Yup, I'm on NA! aw c: Also- I appreciate the reminders. It gets my butt into gear when I'm being lazy about finishing a chapter.
REDFATE- Actually I think I'm going to write one when I'm done with the fic, so that you guys have something else to read when I'm finished. I was always going to upload it separately (if I did one) and that seems like a good time to do it.
PoisonRed- I actually love long reviews, so I appreciate it!
I have always wondered where the term "lemons" even came from- it seems so weird to me. Thank you c: hopefully when I write one, it comes out okay. I agree with you totally, and what I'm about to say is going to sound like an excuse, but- I am reaaally new at writing stories at length, and I feel like people tend to judge the romantic moments a lot more than other parts of the story, so when I was writing Balancing Shadows I was incredibly vague when it came to that stuff, which I know really took away from the story, but I was pretty hesitant and scared I would completely write the scene wrong and someone would hate it and all that. I'm actually thinking about rewriting Balancing Shadows when I finish the fic completely (whenever that is) and those are the parts I was focusing on the most.
Ahh I just fangirled super hard. Thank you so much! Your compliments really mean a lot, and I take them to heart more than you'd think. I'm right with you- I'm always looking for an opportunity to have one of them really get into using their power, but so far, not so much luck. It's something I'm always thinking about though, so there's hope!
Not boring in the slightest! Again, I really do like the longer reviews, and I appreciate everything you've said. Thank you very much ^-^
Alright guys! Review if you'd like, but please enjoy and thank you for reading!
This wasn't easy.
No one had been in the fortress for months; it was silent and dark, empty of anything that could possibly make Syndra feel such trepidation, yet here she was. She hadn't moved since arriving, rooted at the precipice of the fortress, watching the sun slowly crawl away from the buildings. It was very windy where she was standing, and it might have been cold, but Syndra was very, uncharacteristically intoxicated, and the breeze blowing over her skin was entirely combated by the warmth blossoming beneath her skin.
It was a terrible idea.
She couldn't think straight, she couldn't stand straight, and already she was feeling too sick to want to continue the trip. She cursed her stupidity not for the first time, forcing her unsteady legs to carry her forward regardless of whether or not it was a good idea. Coming here was supposed to be cathartic; how was she going to overcome anything if she couldn't even walk in a straight line? She couldn't really leave after hardly being there at all; explaining to Zed why exactly she had nearly drank herself senseless wasn't something that she was particularly excited about, and besides- she really did have to do this eventually. She couldn't keep letting ghosts drive her away from her home.
So she walked on.
She stumbled through the courtyard, ignoring the temples to the sides and heading straight to her room. She made one small detour, stepping to the doorway of her gardens and slowly moving inside. It was darker in the garden than in the courtyard, so it was harder for Syndra to see the flat, long-dead plants around her. The few, brittle leaves that clung to the skinny branches of her favorite tree rattled in the wind, and suddenly the breeze ghosting over her skin made her shiver, leaving a line of goose bumps along her arms. She backed out quickly, sparing the garden no last glance before walking around the corner to her room, where once again she hesitated at the doorway. As appealing as staying outside all night until Zed showed up was starting to feel, she was having a hard time maintaining her upright position, and the longer she stood still the more the wind stole away her warmth. She twisted the doorknob and pushed open the door in one quick motion before she could let fear stall her any longer, practically falling through the doorway and yanking it shut behind her. It smelled different; not like flowers, as it always had, but something flat and cold and unwelcome. She waved several spheres around the room, allowing them to cut through the darkness instead of taking on the ordeal of lighting a torch.
Nothing was different.
Not a single thing was moved; the table, the pillows, her kitchen… everything was intact, although lightly covered in dust and sadly in need of a friendly touch. Syndra closed her eyes, taking a small breath before pushing away from the door, ignoring the room and heading for the stairs. It was only on the second step or so before she realized that in her current state, stumbling up the stairs in the dark would most likely not end well, and she turned away, resigning herself to spend the rest of her stay in the tea room.
Well now that she was confined downstairs, she no longer had a reason not to drown away her anxiety even more.
She headed for the miniscule kitchen, rooting around in the cabinet beneath the basin, smiling shallowly when her fingers brushed the neck of a glass bottle. She clutched the bottle to her chest, then pulled a tea pillow away from the table and dragged it to a corner of the room, slumping against the wall and slowly slinking to the floor. She pulled the bottle closer to her face, struggling to see it in the dim lighting. There was a ribbon knotted around the top; a birthday present from Karma a few years ago and probably well past its prime, but Syndra wasn't quite in the mood to care. Her fingers fumbled around the knot for a good minute before she resorted to using her teeth, pulling the string away in one yank and twisting off the cap. It still smelled fine; light, flowery almost, with a hint of whatever fruit Karma had incorporated when she made it. She wasted no time in tipping the bottle to her lips, taking a small, cautionary taste at first. Dry, but subtly flavored to perfection, and she welcomed the burn of the unfamiliar liquid. Syndra took a longer pull before setting the bottle on the floor, tapping her fingers slowly against the glass.
"I never even knew how old you were."
She wasn't immediately aware that she had voiced the thought; the rough sound echoed quietly through the room, not quite able to puncture the heavy silence. It had never occurred to Syndra before- was Selvi closer to her age, or Zed's? He never mentioned a birthday the year Zed was gone, and she had never thought to ask.
"I hardly thought at all, when it came to you."
She didn't think about how her actions might be perceived to him, she never thought to mention that there was no one else for her but Zed, she never thought to interfere when Selvi was sent again and again to spy on the Kinkou. Syndra twisted her mouth, dragging the bottle to her lips and taking a small sip, swirling the liquid around her mouth before setting it back down.
"I should hate you."
He tried to kill her. Would have succeeded, if Zed hadn't been there. If it were anyone else, Syndra would have been furious, enough so that Selvi never would have gotten as close to ending her life as he had; she would have killed him the moment she had sensed something off that night with no hesitation, no second thoughts, no regrets.
But his death, his downfall… how could she blame that on anyone but herself?
"Well, maybe Akali more so than I."
Whatever Akali had said to him, it had pushed him over the edge, and Syndra was too angry with him to see, too angry to help when he needed it the most. Fresh anger puckered her lips, and Syndra buried the thoughts in another pull of the rice wine.
"I do hate you. You make me appear weak. You chased me from my home."
Syndra's demons didn't respond- the room was heavy with silence, and no matter how much anger she put into the words or much she willed someone to answer, her demands went unrequited.
"What must Zed think, to know that I am sniveling away at the thought of what I've done? He knows as well as I that what we did had to happen; you had to die. Why am I affected so?"
The drink muddled her thoughts, made it difficult for her to formulate answers to her own questions. This is why she needed someone, anyone, to answer, to tell her why this was so hard.
"This is why I chose Zed, even after he left. He would know what to say, yet you remain silent."
Syndra's mind was far beyond reason, unable to see the injustice in her words. But there was some truth- there was never any scenario when Selvi came out on top. It was Zed- it would always be Zed.
"I loved him then, as you loved me. You just couldn't see it."
Selvi neither confirmed nor denied, but Syndra didn't care this time; it wasn't her fault that Selvi had willingly deluded himself into believing something that could never happen, that he had tried to hurt her when things didn't go his way. This was his misdeed. Syndra tipped the bottle once more, wiping her lips with the back of her hand and spitting her next words into the air.
"You deserved it."
Syndra absolved herself from this mess, from the guilt and the pain and the fear. She had what she wanted; she had Zed, alive and here, and she would spend no more of her time wallowing in shame.
"I have Zed."
She didn't drink this time; her fingers traced a ring around the opening of the bottle, but Syndra left it by her side, considering the statement. She did have Zed… now. She would always want him, she would always pick him over anyone else… But what future did she have with Zed? She certainly loved him; more than he did her, most likely, and more than reason dictated, but love was naturally a very flawed and fickle thing, and without it, she and Zed amounted to nothing. Their relationship had proved to be more problematic than anything, and they were both very alike in the sense that they were focused and unhealthily driven people; Zed had his fixations with the Kinkou, Syndra had hers with her power and the Ionia elders.
Without love, there was no future, and a sinking pit in Syndra's stomach told her that love was probably not enough to hold a pair like them together for long. Something would push them apart- be it someone like Selvi, or the Kinkou, or maybe even the elders would get their wish. Syndra had had faith in them, but here, alone in the deserted fortress with her head swimming and regret weighing heavy on her mind, any conviction she had was waning.
"What chance do we stand?"
She was begging Selvi for advice now, instead of answers, but no matter what she asked for he gave nothing in return. She took one last generous swig from the bottle, staring at the way the light from her spheres played across the glass. Her anger came quickly then, supplemented by the fear of losing Zed and fueled by the alcohol, and the fingers that had been lightly holding the bottle constricted in one swift, concise motion, shattering the glass and showering Syndra and the floor with what was left inside. The smell that was pleasant before was overpowering now, making her head swim and her previous nausea impossible to ignore. On top of that, her hand was on fire, lines of red beginning to bleed across her palm.
Syndra didn't panic- she simply shook whatever she could off of her hand and then pushed off the floor, practically tripping her way across the room and carefully, impossibly tackling the stairs. She was half convinced she would die trying to get up them, and half convinced that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing. It was only in amazement that she pushed the door open, stumbling the last few steps to the bed and falling gracelessly to the musty blankets, burying her face into a stray pillow. She pulled off her soaked shirt as an afterthought, throwing it into the dark and immediately relaxing when the smell went with it.
Her head was tilting, the room was tilting, and even though she was sure that she was safely stationary in the bed, everything she could feel was tipping, falling, swirling. Syndra gripped the sheets around her until her fingers ached, adding the fire that was her right hand and silently begging anyone and every to please, just please, make it stop.
If only she could do be so lucky.
Zed wasn't sure if he had waited long enough.
It was well into the night and he hadn't heard anything from Syndra, which by now was verging on alarming. He wasn't surprised not to find her outside; the courtyard and garden were equally empty, and the door to her home was shut. He opened it slowly, expecting it to be lit, greeted instead with darkness. He lit the first torch he could reach, placing it back in its holder and surveying the room. It was the same as he remembered for the most part, save the misplaced tea pillow and the shattered glass scattered around it. He approached the corner, catching a faint whiff of the alcohol still seeping into the carpet, his eyes focusing immediately on several splotches of a rust colored stain on the pillow and surrounding floor.
Blood?
It wasn't a lot, but Zed had never, ever seen Syndra drink before, and apparently now she was injured. He turned away from the mess, taking the stairs two at a time and almost throwing the door open, stepping aside to let the faintest light from down the stairs through. She was where he expected her to be; curled tightly around a pillow, impossibly tangled in several sheets. Her breathing was heavy and slow, but even, and he lit one more torch before approaching the bed, looking for where she had hurt herself. Her left hand was splayed openly against the bed and injury free, and a quick assessment of her exposed back and half bare legs showed nothing new, either. He carefully pulled her right hand from underneath where it was curled beneath the pillows, frowning when he flipped it over. The entire palm was shredded, the lacerations spreading up every finger and covered in dry blood. It was a good thing Syndra had a first aid kit somewhere in her bathroom; her hand definitely needed stitches, and he didn't think she would want to make the trip to the order to get it attended to.
Zed carefully nudged Syndra's shoulder, receiving nothing but a quiet grunt in response. He tried once more, harder, rewarded this time with very bleary, unfocused eye contact.
"Syndra, you're hurt."
She shook her head as if to argue, trying to settle back into the pillow.
"S'not bothering me."
Zed nudged the shoulder again, refusing to let her fall back asleep.
"Sit up."
She complied with a groan, propping herself up against the headboard and frowning at Zed. He lightly grabbed her chin, making sure she was looking at him before speaking.
"Don't move. I will be right back."
She nodded, letting her head droop when he let go of her chin, watching him move to the bathroom. Zed had to root around the cabinets for a few moments, finding the small first aid kit and popping it open, sifting through the contents in search of what he need. There; wrapped in plastic still, the supplies he needed to stitch her hand. He took it back to the bedroom, where Syndra was squeezing her eyes shut, rubbing her temples with her fingertips.
"Hurts."
He wasn't sure if she meant her head or her hand or both, but he felt sorry for how she was going to feel in the morning.
"Give me your hand."
She complied, dropping it into Zed's lap and opening her eyes to watch what he was doing. He wiped it down first, carefully cleaning the dry blood away from the gashes. She winced slightly, but didn't say anything, just continued to let him work. Zed didn't have anything from the first aid kit for the pain, and when he started stitching he waited for her to complain, but she was silent, seemingly more concerned with her headache than anything else.
"This was a bad idea."
Zed agreed, but figured saying so wouldn't be the most tactful thing to do. He continued to work, his movements swift and sure, the needle tugging gently at Syndra's skin. He finished the palm first, putting away the thread and resorting to bandages for the fingers. Syndra began to drift off while he bandaged, going longer and longer without opening her eyes, and by the time he was done Zed was sure she was asleep. He tugged the blankets around her into a more even position, and Syndra curled beneath them, sighing quietly before breathing out one tired, confused sentence.
"I wish it were enough."
Zed waited for more, anything to explain what "it" was, but Syndra didn't say anything else.
"You wish what was enough?"
Her face scrunched a little unhappily, but smoothed back to normal when she sighed her next word.
"You."
Syndra was an idiot.
Everything she felt attested to the thought; she could hardly even think, the way her head was throbbing, and he couldn't seem to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth.
"Ugh."
Syndra groaned loudly into her pillow, pulling it tighter around her face and squeezing her eyes shut. Maybe she could just go back to sleep and pretend she didn't get out of control drunk, and maybe then everything wouldn't hurt so badly.
"How are you feeling?"
Syndra moaned into the pillow again, by way of answering Zed's question. She was sure she had the pillow actually stuffed in her ears, and still Zed's quiet voice set off the pounding in her head. He gently nudged an arm she had wrapped tightly around the pillow encasing her head, encouraging her to move it.
"Water?"
The way Syndra's mouth felt was reason enough to forget her previous ban of lifting the pillow, and she carefully moved it out of the way, squinting in anticipation. Luckily for her, Zed had pulled the curtains over the balcony doors, and the room was dark enough that she didn't have to cover her face. She gratefully held a hand out for the water, taking one long, full drink before handing the cup back.
Zed set the cup on the nightstand, crossing his arms against his chest watching her small movements with a blank face. Syndra sat up against the headboard, waiting for him to bring up how stupid she'd been or to ask her how it went or anything, really, but he just stood there in silence. The longer he went without speaking, the more and more Syndra felt like something was awry, until finally she couldn't take it any longer.
"Is something wrong?"
He averted his gaze but didn't move, and diverted the question.
"How is your hand?"
Her hand…? Up until now, Syndra hadn't noticed it at all, and she stretched the bandaged fingers in front of her face, inspecting it in the dark.
"It's fine…"
Zed didn't really look like he was listening to her answer; he didn't look like he wanted to be there at all, and Syndra's stomach twisted slightly with worry.
"Zed."
He glanced up this time, but still with the expressionless eyes.
"What is it?"
His mouth twitched this time; he was trying not to show whatever it was that was bothering him, and the harder he tried to hide it the more perturbed she became.
"I'm sorry, for the childish way I behaved last night. It was an asinine decision."
Zed definitely looked like he agreed, but his expression didn't change, and what Syndra had done the night before clearly wasn't the problem.
So what was it?
"Say something."
He rubbed a hand over his eyes, sighing tiredly.
"I…"
He shook his head before continuing and walked to the door, finishing the sentence with what Syndra was sure wasn't what he had originally intended to say.
"I have training to attend to. Feel better."
He left before Syndra could call him back, shutting the door almost noiselessly behind him. Syndra stared long after he was gone, ignoring the blossoming pain in her hand and the throbbing still proceeding in her head. She knew that getting drunk was a foolish, thoughtless plan, but had it really offended him so badly? Had she done something last night that she couldn't remember?
For the first time since waking, Syndra felt like she was going to be sick.
Zed stalked through the forest, not heading towards the order but not away from it, either, just threading aimlessly through the trees. He couldn't really remember coming down here, but he knew he needed to be away from Syndra, for just a few hours. It was irrational, really, to be mad at her for something she had said while she was inebriated; it wasn't fair of him to hold it over her without explaining, and she probably didn't mean it, but Zed couldn't help the anger that curled his hands into fists.
What did she mean, she wished he was enough?
Did she mean that everything they had given up wasn't enough? That what they had, what they were… wasn't worth it?
No, no, that wasn't Syndra… she was drunk and upset, and practically asleep when she said it. Zed stopped his frantic movement through the forest, sending a flurry of leaves into the air with the sudden movement. He knew he was overreacting and that he should really go back, but there was just one tiny, vindictive part of him that emphasized how tired he was after watching over Syndra all night and reminded him of how unpleasant the task of overseeing training was on no sleep.
Honestly, Zed didn't really want to hear about Selvi right now, and he wasn't especially excited to explain his behavior or listen to Syndra list all the no doubt excellent reasons she had for the tantrum she threw the night before- and now that he thought about it, he definitely didn't want to return to the order.
Zed wanted to be somewhere quiet.
Syndra was still nauseated.
She stubbornly refused to attribute it to anything other than her lingering hangover, but regardless - she left the fortress as soon as she was sure she wasn't going to vomit again, taking her time on the way over to the order and trying to ignore the uncomfortable way the wind bit at her skin. Autumn was usually pretty mild in Ionia, ranging on balmy, but this year Syndra felt an early, bitter winter that somehow managed to perfectly accent the trepidation she felt when it came to Zed's strange behavior.
She tried to shake away the unease, blaming whatever the problem was on Zed's clear lack of sleep; it only made sense that he would be unhappy with her if she had kept him up all night, especially if he had to be at the order today. The knot in Syndra's stomach loosened somewhat, and her steps didn't drag as much as before; a tired Zed, she could deal with.
She finally arrived at the order just shortly before sunset, welcomed by silence and the usual quant torchlight. She walked quietly between the temples, being careful to walk as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the silence. There were only a few other people out walking this late, and all passed her with the smallest nods of acknowledgment. Syndra headed to the training area first; empty like she had expected, save for one ninja seated by where the weapons were stored, rubbing a cloth over a blade he had cradled in his lap. Syndra approached nervously; she didn't recognize this particular student, and she had never liked addressing strangers before.
He waited until she was standing in front of him to lift his head, and then tugged the cloth mask he had over his mouth down to speak.
"Can I assist you?"
Syndra motioned with her right hand, quickly placing it back behind her when the bandages she had momentarily forgotten drew his eye.
"I am looking for Zed."
He looked like he figured as much, but he also looked slightly confused, and answered simply.
"He was not in charge of training today."
Syndra blinked once in confusion, and very briefly entertained the idea that the man was lying; Zed had clearly told her he had training this morning before he left. But then again…
It would explain why he was acting so strangely, if he was lying. Syndra smiled shallowly, ushering a quick thank you before spinning on her heel and stalking away.
So Zed was lying again.
To what end? Was he after the Kinkou again, so soon? They had barely even returned from Bilgewater; she found it a little unbelievable that he would pursue them again after what they'd just been through. A new kind of nervousness twisted Syndra's stomach when something else occurred to her.
Was it Ahri?
Syndra had assumed that because he was using her explicitly for information that he had no other business with her, but if she was wrong… Jealously burned her cheeks and formed fists at her sides, her earlier agitation morphing into ire.
She needed to find Zed.