A/N: Follow-up piece to the "Rise of the Tomb Raider Ending (Salt Edition)". Thank you to fanfiction. addicted01 for comments!
M is for Mercy
- Lara has single-handedly destroyed all signs of their former glory. Jacob is glad.
"Should I take you back to bed?" Lara offers from the opening of the cave, breaking his mulling over the sight before him.
"Please, don't." He is still not fully free of the cane, and he sees the measuring raise of eyebrows that Lara gives him. However, he has made it to the side entrance of the Cathedral on his own so that must work in his favor. She and Jonah will be leaving tomorrow after spending nearly an extra week in the Valley. It feels a much shorter time to him, and the battle is fresh on his mind. "You're up early," he notes as the sun is still far from reaching the horizon.
"Nightmares," she replies casually and walks closer to him on the ledge to peek down on the ruined tiers.
He gives her an inquiring look; he'll listen if she wants to share.
"Stupid stuff, something about mutated Trinity members attacking me back at home. There was a Soviet chemical facility here or something rather," she shrugs and dismisses the nightmare as by far not the worst she's experienced. He still recognizes how she tends to be more quiet and solemn in the early waking hours and after spending time alone. The fighting is rarely over when the battles cease.
"So, why are you here? – I get the escape from inside the four walls, but…" she inquires.
"I wanted to see it myself to know what we have to work with. – – It's been a while since I've been here."
"The lower levels had explosions with the sulfur. The glacial runoff fills most of, well…" she informs and nods at the water level that sits murkily a couple of levels below them.
They both stare at the echoes of destruction in silence.
"I should have stopped you from going," he states in a coarse apology. The mistake has been on his mind for the past few days.
"Jacob…"
"The risk was unnecessary."
"Trinity might have gotten the Atlas."
He looks at her to weigh her belief in the claim – especially when the misfortune did eventually happen – but decides to let the argument go.
He looks over at the statue of himself that has toppled over from the base and now leans against the wall that they are standing on many levels up.
"Sorry, I did that," Lara comments when she follows his line of gaze.
"How, if I may ask?"
"I blew it up with the Greek Fire barrels," she says like she's talking about something mundane.
The snort escapes him on its own accord. He cannot fully fathom how she made it out at all given the maze-like structure, sealed pathways, and the unstable structure that has been worn down by the water for centuries.
"How did that even happen? If you don't mind me asking?" she continues.
He turns to look at the curious inquiry on her face.
"Statues of you, coins, murals. It's hard to turn one's head in here without your image staring back. Given that the likeliness is not spot-on after the centuries… – But you don't really seem the type," she prods, obviously trying to keep an open mind.
Despite the fact that he thought to have lost the skill centuries ago, she manages to make him blush out of embarrassment. "Different time," he replies because he has very little reason to offer, "People wanted to honor the founding of Kitezh. – I hoped it would boost morale, help keep order," he tells with a self-deprecating smile, "Maybe I wished that it would make me more than I was."
He looks at Lara to gauge her reaction, but against his fear, she is looking at the statue with a contemplating look as if she somehow sympathizes with his past self.
He isn't sure if he deserves it.
He, too, turns to stare at the overthrown statue and thinks how she is an iconoclast. She has raided all the forefathers' tombs, destroyed what has been left of the few remaining structures from the Kitezh-era, and smashed the Divine Source. She is not even thirty and has torn down all the signs of his holiness and the Remnants' oath.
He is still a leader to his people, but the Prophet is dead, overthrown without a second thought, and remorse is reserved only for his well-being as Jacob.
He looks at Lara to see the hesitant question on her face at his quietness and realizes with admiration that she doesn't even fathom what she has managed to do.
"Do you think some of them are still salvageable?" he asks, steering the conversation out of the things that he doesn't think would be beneficial to admit to her yet.
"What, the scrolls? – Depends on what you used as parchment and ink. Some, maybe."
He isn't sure of the plan exactly but the thought of wanting to see this place and try to save some of his people's work for future generations has plagued him during his recovery. "Would you have interest in the work?"
"The restoration?" Lara lets a breath of air slowly through her nose to buy herself time to think, "The knowledge they must contain is tempting," and her expression shows no less, "– – but at this point, Trinity calls me more," she concluded and tilts her head as in a wordless apology at the rejection, "I can send you equipment. To the other side of the mountains, for example?"
"You are not obliged to."
"It's not a big investment. And if you manage to save anything, it could be historically priceless."
"I'll let you know if that happens," he offers with a smile. After all, he needs a reason to invite her back.