[A/N]: chapter title comes from "Space Between" by Sia
Something was happening. Excitement hung in the air like static, as if a thunderstorm could break out at a moment's notice. But no matter who Gwen asked they would give her no answers and no matter where she looked she found nobody willing to do just that. It seemed as if Vergen had grown overnight, giving all elves who at least seemed to tolerate her a place to hide. Even Ivor had disappeared, like a griffon who had simply flown off without leaving a trace behind. The half-elf wondered if he had finally gotten enough of her.
With every passing day, the tension in her body grew. Not knowing what was going to happen, after all that had taken place, set her on edge, and she caught herself tensing her shoulders constantly. She wondered if it had anything to do with Iorveth's plans to leave Vergen, but she hadn't thought it would be this soon. Plus if that was the case, then why had nobody simply confirmed this to her? On more than one occasion, she could not stop herself from scratching her arms furiously while making sure not to break skin. With nothing else to do, she had taken to exercising at least three times a day, but it didn't take long before she could no longer even concentrate on that.
In the end, she found her way back to that spot in front of the keep, where she sat down hanging her legs over the edge. She held two hefty rocks in her hands and lifted them until her arms ached and then some while she stared at the town down below. Now that something was going to happen, people seemed to crawl out of their holes, though unfortunately they were not the people she wished to speak to. They seemed to be gathering resources, which strengthened Gwen's suspicions that they might be leaving soon. Whoever "they" was. Perhaps she hadn't been told about any of this because it was irrelevant for her. Perhaps they had persuaded Iorveth to leave her behind. Perhaps he had seen the hopelessness of their situation himself and did not wish to be near her anymore.
That suited her more than enough, but why should she hang around when she was no longer welcome? As if she had ever been welcome to begin with.
Before she could chuck the stones down, her downward spiral was interrupted.
"Ah, there you are," somebody stated behind her.
The half-elf did not recognise the voice nor did she recognise the elf herself once she twisted her neck to look back. Behind her stood a surprisingly tall woman with long, black hair that cascaded down her shoulders and chest in sleek strands, and eyes so dark her pupils were all but invisible.
"And you are…?" Gwen asked without getting up. She tightened her grip on the stone, though. Its edges dug into the skin of her fingers, giving her a strange sense of security.
Eyes that remained blank, even when their owner's lips formed a smile, reminded the half-elf of Iorveth's as the woman said, "I'm Moiriana, one of the commander's council members."
"Council members?" Gwen quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't even know Iorveth had a council to begin with."
"Oh, I presume there are plenty of reasons why our commander did not want to involve you in such things." The woman chuckled behind a hand, her eyes never once shifting with emotion.
Ugh. She was one of those. "I presume the same. Anyway, it was nice getting to meet you, Morgana."
This time, the elf outright laughed as she lowered herself to sit beside Gwen, who just barely held back a sigh. Why couldn't they ever simply leave her be? She ignored the fact that only moments ago she had been complaining about her loneliness and averted her gaze from the woman.
"I presume nobody has told you about what is going to happen. Is that right?" When Gwen refused to reply and instead kept on gazing straight ahead, Moiriana continued, "We are departing for Flotsam in eight days."
At that, the half-elf's eyes sought those of the woman beside her. "Flotsam? But… what happened to Novigrad then?"
"So Iorveth did tell you." Triumph found its way to her face, eyes lighting up ever so slightly.
"Shouldn't he have?"
"That's not what I said." The woman picked up a rock of her own from the ground, weighed it in her hand. "The commander can do what he wishes, though not many would agree. I was simply curious as to what he discusses with you, or if he keeps everything separated."
Gwen lifted her shoulders before she chucked one of the stones down and watched it crumble to pieces as it tumbled down the side of the hill. "He tries, though he's not really good at it."
"That is to be expected from someone like him. But enough about men!" Moiriana turned to face the half-elf. "I want to hear more about you. How are you doing?"
"M-me?" the half-elf wondered out loud. "Why do you want to know?"
"I don't like listening to rumours and stories, and since the entire camp is discussing you, I'd rather get to the root myself. Plus, it's been a long time coming anyway."
"Everything's peachy," Gwen said as she reached for another rock. "Enjoying the downtime, peoplewatching the people watching me. You know, the usual when you're the half-elf carrying the commander's child."
Moiriana hummed but said nothing as she watched the half-elf run her fingers along the jagged edge of the stone. Somehow, the company felt good and the silence was comforting. The elf beside Gwen slumped slightly, seemingly unconcerned with their lack of conversation. She hadn't realised how much she could enjoy the presence of someone who wanted absolutely nothing of her.
"People focus on the wrong things all the time," the black-haired woman spoke and lifted her gaze to the grey sky that resembled the colour of Ivor's eyes. "While we should be busying ourselves with the dh'oine, instead we look to the perceived dangers within. If you ask me, you're just as much a part of our fight as any of the seidhe in Vergen."
Gwen caught her lower lip between her teeth. "Only I almost lost as much to elves as I did to humans. Perhaps you are right to fear me, to fear the possible consequences of their actions."
"Actions always speak louder than words, though. And your actions have been pretty helpful to us elves," Moiriana said, stressing the last words. "I've heard a lot about your hatred for the Aen Seidhe, but to me it seems like it has mostly been harming yourself."
Stopping her fingers along the side of the rock, the half-elf's body stiffened as she glanced at the scars on her arms. She would have liked to hide them, but that was simply impossible in this heat. Plus, she had made a promise to Iorveth.
"What does it matter what that fucker thinks of you?!" an angry voice had yelled at her from the back of her mind when she had been contemplating what to wear. "He betrayed you, you don't owe him anything."
"That would make me just as bad as him. Plus, I'm not doing it for him anymore. I'm doing it for… for us," another voice had responded. It had sounded eerily like her mother's voice when she had admonished her for her behaviour during her pregnancy with Elric's child.
Either way, that had been that.
Gwen opened her mouth-
"What's this?!" Both women turned around to find another standing behind them. Her black hair looked like it had hastily been tied into a bun at the back of her head, loose strands framing her face on both sides. She stared down at the two of them, arms crossed and lips pursed. "Moiriana, what's the meaning of this?"
"That your mother?" Gwen whispered.
"Honestly? Feels like it sometimes."
"Moiriana!" The newcomer stomped her foot, earning her raised brows in return. "So now you're going behind our backs to meet her?"
"She's sitting right next to me, if you hadn't noticed yet."
"Of course I-"
"All right, all right, just checking. You know what they say about the eyesight of old people."
"You're older than me!"
"Who are you if not Morgana's mother?" Gwen asked as she fought the corners of her lips that were trying to curl upwards.
"Morgana?" The newcomer tilted her head and furrowed her dark eyebrows. "Don't you me-"
"This is Bryn. She, too, is a member of the commander's council," Moiriana supplied helpfully.
"Another one of you?" Gwen turned around fully to eye the two elves.
"It wouldn't be much of a council with only one member, now would it?" Moiriana chuckled and shook her head. Strands of her hair brushed against Gwen's arms as she did so.
"I still find it strange that I've never heard of any of you."
Bryn sputtered nonexistent words in an attempt to respond, but Moiriana only hummed and took a pipe out of one of her pockets.
"Do you mind?" She lifted the pipe towards Gwen and raised an eyebrow.
Shaking her head, Gwen said, "Go ahead."
Then, as if she had all the time in the world, as if there was no war closing in on them, Moiriana relaxed and began stuffing her pipe with leaves she took from a different pocket. She also retrieved a small spill vase and plucked one out. With a smile, she held it out to Bryn, who had crossed her arms and was now watching her.
"Would you be so kind?"
Rolling her eyes, Bryn took the spill and lit it on one of the nearby torches before returning it to the other elf.
"Thank you," Moiriana replied as she held the fire to her pipe and waited for it to catch on. She waited a short while before she placed the tip between her lips and inhaled softly. When she sighed, the smile playing on her lips formed the smoke that left her mouth when she exhaled.
Gwen had never seen so much positive emotion on an elf's face than in that moment, with Moiriana sitting beside her as if without a concern in the world. Before she knew what she was doing, she heard herself say, "Maybe Iorveth should start smoking, too. Get him to relax more."
Sirens flared in her mind the moment the words left her mouth. What did she care about Iorveth's wellbeing? Why had that even been her first thought to begin with?
Both Bryn and Moiriana stared at her. With the weight of their gazes fixed upon her, the half-elf couldn't help but press her hands together and wring them atop her lap. "W-what?"
"Iorveth never smokes near you?" Bryn asked, while Moiriana exclaimed, "I learned smoking from that old bastard!"
For good measure, Bryn added, "He can be quite the chimney on a bad day."
Now it was Gwen's turn to stare. If Iorveth was an avid smoker, then why had she never seen him smoke?
The others seemed to share those thoughts.
"You ever tell him you hate smoking?" Moiriana asked as she placed one arm behind her to lean on and rubbed her chin with her other hand.
Her face blank, the half-elf shook her head.
"But you did tell him you were afraid of fire, didn't you?" Bryn offered, lips curling into a smirk.
The words brought her back to all the times she had flinched or shied away from flames while in Iorveth's precence. "I showed him more than I told him, but yes, you could say that he knew of my fear of fire. Do I want to know why you know it too?"
"Wouldn't you like to-"
Moiriana cleared her throat loudly. "Everybody does. Just like how we all know Bryn is a bothersome grandmother, we all know Gwen is afraid of fire."
Still, that didn't explain the fact Gwen never found out about his habit. It wasn't just that she had never seen him do it, but she had never even smelled or tasted it on him. Which either meant that he had temporarily stopped smoking or that he went to great lengths to rid himself of the smoke. It would be too much to think he did it simply for her, but a part of her trembled at the thought of Iorveth considering what he thought were her needs.
The half-elf violently pushed those thoughts aside. Whatever he had once done for her in the past was naught in comparison to all he had done to her.
"What all of this doesn't explain, is why Bryn decided to join our conversation." The look that Bryn shot Moiriana could have taken down any ordinary man, but not this elf. "Too much of a coincidence for two of us to just happen to be in the same spot at the same time."
"Shouldn't we also ask you that question in that case?" Bryn jabbed a finger in the other elf's direction.
Moiriana lifted her shoulders in response. "I already said so. I'm here to see for myself how much of the rumours of our inh'eid are true. Plus, I was simply curious about the woman who has seemed to capture the commander's heart."
Gwen's stomach churned at those words and she pressed a hand to her belly as if to keep the feelings threatening to spill out at bay. The movement attracted the attention of the elves, however. Whereas Moiriana moved closer almost instantly, Bryn held her hands up and took a step back.
"Are you all right?" Moiriana asked with furrowed brows as she leaned towards the half-elf, lowering her face to enter Gwen's field of view.
Swallowing hard, she nodded and quickly removed her hand. "I'm fine."
Raised brows and frowning lips told her that neither of the women believed her, but they didn't pry either. Before they could do so, Gwen pushed herself off the ground and patted her clothes down to rid them of any dust that might be clinging to her.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, but I've got things to do and people to annoy, so if you'll excuse me…" Without waiting for a response, the half-elf turned and left, biting her lip hard enough to taste copper for fear of spilling her maelstrom of emotions all over the place.
With balled fists, she made her way down the stone steps along the side of the mountain. She was furious with herself, for feeling that wisp of hope and longing the moment she realised Iorveth had apparently considered her needs above his own. She was devastated by the fact that they would never return to a point like that, no matter what happened. She wanted to curl into that stupid elf's arms and cry into his shirt and feel his hands run down her back as he held her close.
The ball of her right foot barely touched solid ground again when she was engulfed by nausea, her fit of emotions interrupted by the bile rising at the back of her throat. Gwen whimpered as she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the cobblestones, the anger at herself growing with every ragged breath she took through her nose. Once she knew for sure her stomach had settled once more, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and was on her way again, albeit a bit slower this time. She felt like a ghost that had nothing tethering it to reality, that might float away at a moment's notice and it scared her far more than her anger could burn.
She feared she might remain stuck if she didn't do something, anything. Where before she had wanted to crawl into bed and sleep away the rest of the day, she now made her way towards the slums of the town, where most of the elves had set up camp during their stay. She ignored them and their curious gazes - after all, as far as they knew, she hadn't set foot here since arriving - and made her way towards the small passage at the back of the mountain. There, she found what once used to be part of the mines but that now merely led those passing through out towards the forest that surrounded Vergen from behind.
After making sure no monsters had come crawling back - last time she had asked Ivor to help get rid of them, but that didn't seem quite as possible this time around - she sought her usual spot between the trees by the lake that lay there. Heaving a sigh, she sat by the water, where she cupped her hands together and dipped them beneath the surface of the clear liquid. She lifted them to her face and splashed it with the cool water, pulling her out of whatever fit had caught her in its claws. With a gasp, the world came back into focus so suddenly that she almost threw up again. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, breathed in deeply as she willed the dizziness away.
When her head no longer felt like she was spinning, she gingerly dipped her hands back into the lake. This time she rubbed the water over her arms and she realised just how dirty she had become when the drops came back brown. The refreshment did her good though and now that her skin was less clammy, she already felt a lot better. That wasn't what she had come here for, however.
She pushed herself off the ground and shook her limbs to rid them of the few droplets that still clung to the skin there before she clasped her hands together and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back as she did so. Then she bent forward and repeated the movement behind her back. Several joints in her body popped, the slight ache immediately chased away by a wave of relief and release.
The stick she had used the last few times still lay by the side of the largest tree that adorned the small field, just as battered as it had been when she set it down. She wrapped her fingers around one end of it and lifted it, weighed it in her gasp and swung it twice before she moved to the other side of the tall tree. There, a multitude of scratches and cuts revealed themselves and Gwen mustered a smile at her handiwork as she trailed a finger across the lacerations. It wasn't as effective as sparring with a live partner, but it was all she could do to once more help her muscles grow accustomed to the movements. Plus it gave her something to do other than to cower beneath the covers on her bed feeling ill all day.
The bruises and blisters that had formed on her hand from the usage protested against the pressure of the stick against the sensitive skin, but Gwen ignored the ache and began to slash at her opponent with gusto. Although the tree remained unmoving, the half-elf danced around it as though it were retaliating with just as much fervour. Occasionally, her stomach would protest, but once she satisfied it by heaving onto the grass, she would return to attacking the tree.
She repeated this cycle until her arms and legs trembled and throbbed in time with her elevated heartbeat and sweat covered every inch of her skin. Only when she could no longer hold the stick up did she drop it to the ground, where it landed with a thud, kicking up dust and mud that had formed and loosened from her repetitive motions across the area. Her shoulders heaved as she tried to catch her breath, and in the meantime she made her way back towards the lake.
Without a second thought, she lifted her shirt over her head and lowered her breeches, letting both pieces of clothing fall beside her. After ridding herself of her underclothes as well, she slid into the water, inhaling sharply at the coolness that enveloped her battered body. As she washed herself, she noticed that she had acquired a few new scars and she traced them gingerly with a finger. The cut that had become infected but had managed to heal up in the end looked particularly angry, the skin surrounding the scar itself puckering slightly.
What would her body have looked like had she never run from Flotsam when this all began? Would she even still be alive? Perhaps she would have been raped until Loredo - she could finally think his name without feeling insects crawl beneath her skin - had her birth a child. Perhaps she would have escaped by boat, never to be seen again as she sought her happy ending. Or perhaps she would have killed herself a long time ago. None of that mattered though, since she was standing in a lake beside Vergen in Upper Aedirn where she was staying with a Scoia'tael unit.
With a sigh, Gwen finished cleaning herself up and dragged herself back onto the grass, where she began rinsing her clothes. She hadn't brought an extra pair and there was no way she was putting these back on without at least trying to rid them of her sweat. Thankfully they would dry in no time in this weather, and so she hung them over a low hanging branch before she sat down by the water again, close enough to her garments should they threaten to be blown away by the wind.
The half-elf ran her hands through her hair in an attempt to gain control of the strands once more. It was drying faster than she had expected, and if she didn't do anything about it, it would be untameable later on. She hadn't realised how long it had gotten though, the tresses reaching just below her shoulders now. Her pregnancy had given it a little boost as of late, something she remembered occurring last time as well. Her fingers struggled against a knot and with a groan she decided she would cut her hair again soon.
As her clothes dried, Gwen sat with her legs crossed and her hands on her knees, her back straight while she took in a deep breath and simply was. Iorveth and Ivor and Vergen and everyone else were at her back, not within view, and she let them be there. Due to all that had been going on lately, she sometimes forgot to just be.
With the sound of water rolling in soft waves before her, the wind rushing through the green leaves and stirring the stifling air above her, the sun that shone down on her with a fervour that promised a harsh winter, she was nothing more than Gwenfrewi. She was not Iorveth's mistress, nor was she late King Baldwin's daughter, or King Stennis's aunt, or Loredo's victim, or Quinn's sister and neither was she this unborn child's mother. For one moment, she was just Gwen. And if there was one thing that Gwen was...
She exhaled slowly, her lungs protesting as she did so, and she swore that she would get through this, too.
After all, she was a survivor. She simply kept forgetting.