Kisara/Dohalim has me in a chokehold, no apologies.


It isn't so easy to forgive and forget, but it's nigh impossible to deny the ease of friendship.

Kisara grew up in a world that wasn't known for comfort, least of all friends. And despite Dohalim's transgressions, despite the reveal of his true nature, Kisara can't find it within herself to hate him.

They've been close for what seems like so long that she can't shake the feeling of it, the camaraderie they've had for what seems like ever. Dohalim's soft words and verbose, unintelligible explanations. His quiet and contemplative looks.

She's angry at him, of course. Angry at his flippant attitude when it comes to his pig-headed selfishness, but-

Her anger comes from her deep, unfettered disappointment in her friend, because even now that's what he is, his heritage aside.

They sit at the fire, words and phrases hard to find between them. Dohalim stares at his food, picking at it with a fork, but leaving it otherwise untouched. Kisara nurses a mug of coffee, the blistering ceramic a balm against her skin.

A reminder, perhaps. That she's alive, he's alive, they're all alive. Except for Migal. Kisara sighs at the thought and Dohalim looks up. His mouth parts, as though he's going to say something… but in the end, he doesn't. He clamps up tight, his lips settling into a thin, firm line and then he stands to go sit at the edge of the camp away from her.

He's just as awkward about this as she is, judging by the way he fidgets. Dohalim's never fidgeted before. But neither has Kisara, who's always been stouthearted and fierce. She's so unaccustomed to such feelings of uncertainty.

The others watch; the younglings with childlike and mischievous interest, Shionne with a cold and calculated eye, Alphen with concern. But he's always like that, far too worried about everyone else when he should be worried about himself.

Kisara will be fine. Eventually. This she knows because she won't allow for anything other than that. Still, the awkwardness breeds and settles through the rest of the group. Even Law mentioned it, and while not dumb, he doesn't seem to be the most observant of people. Kisara frowns as she regards him.

He has potential. He's young yet.

Law's also just a welcome distraction, perfect in pulling her away from the thoughts that she should truly be thinking upon.

She and Dohalim have talked, of course. Kisara's invested in the welfare of Menancia and there isn't a person better suited than discussing such things. Except for Dohaliim, maybe, who persists that he has no right to consult on such matters anymore.

And perhaps that's the jumping point of the rift that's been cleaved between the both of them. Migal's death might've started it, might've set things into motion, but the clencher at the end of the day is that Dohalim finds himself unworthy and useless.

Kisara can't begin to fathom the kinds of things that brew in his head, but she knows a few things for certain:

One, Dohalim isn't a bad man. Yes, misguided, and yes, selfish at times- but who isn't? There isn't a human being in either world that isn't to some degree, even herself.

Two, he has more claim in this game than he thinks. The people of Menancia still trust him, still revere him, still thank him to this day. He paved the way to a brighter future and they persist in carrying that out even now.

And lastly, Dohalim cares whether he realizes it or not. His intentions, in the beginning aside, he cares for his people and he cares for their outcome.

Kisara is almost certain that he's come to realize this himself. Otherwise, why would he have rallied their people to rise against Kelzalik's rogue regime, and sought after the truth on his own? He isn't the kind of man to pay penance for his actions, but he would help do honest good.

"What are you thinking about?"

Kisara looks at Shionne who watches her with that bland, disinterested facade she wears when she tries to maintain distance. Never quite works, they all see right through it.

"Nothing much," says Kisara, sipping at her coffee.

"Bullshit," says Shionne, blunt as ever. "You keep looking at him like a kicked puppy." She nods to Dohalim.

Kisara opens her mouth to retort but then hesitates. Then she sighs. "It isn't so easy, sorting out my thoughts."

Shionne frowns, her expression pinched. "Are you annoyed that he joined along?"

"What? No."

"Then what is it?"

Kisara picks her next words carefully, unwanting to offend Shionne. "Once I thought that Dohalim was likely the only kind Renan there was. But then-"

"Don't say it," cuts in Shionne.

Kisara doesn't, but she gives her a curved, amused smile. "You know, it's okay. To actually care about others."

"Is that what you're doing, then?" asks Shionne, "Caring?"

Kisara doesn't answer.

"What good are you to him if you can barely talk to each other?" continues Shionne. "I don't understand what the problem is."

"You aren't good with people," says Kisara, "So I would imagine not."

"And you are good with people?"

"Not particularly." Kisara risks another glance at Dohalim. He stares off and fiddles with his food, thinking. And the others leave him be.

It's clear that Shionne isn't expecting such an answer. She falls quiet, mouthing a little 'o', and then sighs herself. "Our group is a bit of a mess," she murmurs.

Kisara chuckles lightly at that. "A mess, sure, but I like it. There's potential to achieve great things."

"Yeah, but imagine how better we'd do if the two of you would kiss and make up," says Alphen, intruding as he sits right between them, his own plate of food balanced precariously on his hand. Then he adds, rather dumbly, "I mean, not literally kiss but-"

"Listening in, were you?" asks Kisara ruefully.

Alphen shrugs. "It's a small camp." He tucks into his food and continues around a mouthful. "Really though, I think if you just talked to him he'd listen."

"Know a lot about relationships?"

"Well, no," says Alphen truthfully, "But I know that he won't make the first move."

Kisara's gaze narrows. "And why's that?"

"Because he's a guy." Alphen says it with such honest sincerity that Kisara laughs, she can't help it. Shionne just looks between the two of them, mildly disgusted, annoyed, and flabbergasted in one go.

"I suppose you're right," says Kisara as she stares into her mug. "I don't know what I would say, though."

"So don't say anything," says Shionne. Alphen and Kisara both give her confused glances and she huffs. "What? Isn't he your friend? Do friends always need words?"

Kisara thinks back through the years because no, they haven't always needed words. There are more days than not they've just been in the presence of each other, comfortable. Even now, when they walk down the craggy roads, side-by-side and saying nothing.

The sort of ease built through deep friendship, one that seems to hang on until the bitter end despite everything. Kisara clings to those that she cares for because there are so, so few of them left.

The advice is good, brilliant even. Kisara thinks that Shionne understands people better than she lets on. So, she thanks her quietly and then stands. Grabs the coffee pot from the fire and a spare mug.

Picks her away across the small camp until she stands beside Dohalim. Then, Kisara sits beside him without a word. He watches her warily, a small line creasing his brow. Kisara ignores it, pouring him a cup of coffee and holding it out to him.

She doesn't say anything, just basks in the strange comfort that still settles between them. Perhaps Shionne's right and words aren't needed. At least not yet, not now. Maybe not for a while.

When Dohalim takes the cup, he offers her a soft smile.

And Kisara returns it.

At least it's a start.