RP:Just Not Seeing Right

Part of the Mearcstapa Arc

Summary: Two weeks after running into Reginae / Nico in Alithrya, Brennia is still at the palace. Nico hears word that there’s a guest in the palace and goes to investigate to find Brennia. He oddly wakes her from a nightmare before an old wound she’d healed before in the caves materializes on his hand. After Brennia tries to explain how they’d known each other before, he becomes hostile and storms out, telling her to go home and leaving her in tears.

Palace Halls

Reginae|| Nicolau's sense of day and night have been warped from mind numbering hours shut away. As he sneaks through the hallways of the palace, he catches snippets of conversation between the guards. There's a visitor here. Internally, the Reginae half of the being slinking around, is flustered and wants explanations about why no one's deemed it important enough to tell her about it. The warp of her mind only allowed Reginae's indignation to rise to the surface. Nico picks caution over approach. It'll be the easiest avenue to what he wants to know; who is it? Did that bird woman really stay or did someone else show up?

The dark haired rogue searches the guests rooms. It's late so the patrol guards are few. Most of the rooms are empty. He pauses briefly in the room formerly housing Ire and frowns. Where was he? Next Niko checked the beautiful doll's room to find her missing too. They'll come back. Niko's search yields more empty rooms until he finds Brennia's. No noise announces his entry. The door opens as soundless as his footsteps when he creeps closer to where she's fallen asleep. The rogue wrinkles his nose and studies her, the tug of something familiar and uncomfortable aching in his chest. That nasty thing she'd said. When was the last message? She claimed she didn't know anything but she had to know something. Why else was she here? He's still missing the dagger he'd abandoned in the court yard so he's a little less armed than he'd been before.

Brennia's Guest Room

Brennia had a wonderful day catching up with Thedez and getting to know his sister Nadia better than the few stories they had shared of their siblings while on the road. The only downside is that spending time with him always crops up trauma from when they were unknowingly slaves on a goblin farm and the night terrors are horrible. You'd think a winged creature like Brennia would sleep serenely like an angel, but that is far from the truth. Her large wings drape over the edge of the king size bed and she has managed to kick the blankets off of herself while tossing and turning. The moment Nico sneaks in, she is on her back and the simple white tank top clings to her slender form along with the little shorts. The raised little welts still decorate the outside of her thighs from the whips the goblins used and there is now a little scar on her cheek where Nico cut her a couple weeks ago. Her chest raises and lowers at an accelerated rate as her sweaty brow is pinched in fear, but her eyes are still shut as it is obvious she is stuck in a night terror. Some of her hair is stuck to her face due to the sweat even though the room is perfectly comfortable, maybe even a touch colder. "Non je t'en prie. Ne le faites pas. Laisse nous partir," her raspy timbre whispers out in a begging fashion. If Nico pays close attention, he will hear her heart beating fast as if it might leap from her chest. There have been a few times she has woken up screaming from her very real nightmares, but then she has to assure the guards that she is fine and maybe they start taking the screams a little less seriously. At the very least, if she starts screaming again, they might not feel it necessary to rush.

Nico moves with arrogant ease to her bedside. He'd expected her to be curled up and sleeping like a babe. He's never seen anyone sleep this way. The language is lost on him but the reactions; the sweat, the panic, the tousled bed sheets and her racing heart beat. His hazel eyes narrow, picking up the whelps on her thighs and finally the cut on her cheek. That was his doing. He hears a scuff in his own mind. She'd deserved it for tricking him. She was a liar. Nico has no sense of how much time has passed but the healing and scarring of the wound on her face gives him a guess or two. Could she be sick with fever? He narrows his gaze on her. Why was she still here? Those words crop up again. Something vital is missing. Like a narration he should know by heart. Her squirming is getting worse and something about it makes him more uncomfortable than her spiked words in the garden.

"Wake up." He says, annoyed that he's having to say anything at all. If she doesn't stir at his words, he'll shake one of her shoulders and try again. "Wake up." His words are clipped but non-threatening. "If you're sick you need medical attention." That just made sense, no matter who you were. "Woman."

Brennia’s dreams are in her native tongue which resembles the French language of our world, so the few times she talks in her sleep it is in Veretian. She slowly starts to come out of her nightmare during the rudeness of someone invading the room she’s been given during her stay. Then the words are uttered again as she is being shaken and she startles awake. Those teal eyes going wide and she lets out a small sharp yelp while trying to scramble for the sheet to cover herself, but she ends up thudding onto the floor on the opposite side of the bed that Nico is standing at. “Ooof,” she stays on the floor while sitting up on her knees and propping her head up on the edge of the bed with her arms while her poofy curly hair limply lays on her glistening shoulders, “wha?” Her eyes are baggy again from the return of the night terrors and it’s taking her a second to realize what he just said. “No, I’m fine. It’s just a nightmare,” but then it dawns on her that she is alone… with Nico and she still remembers the sting of his blade. With a sudden calm, she eases herself back onto her feet and pulls the sheet with her for modesty as it gets tucked under her arms. “What brings you in here?” She casually makes her way nearer to the door in case she needs a quick exit while playing it off that she just needs to smooth her hair down in the mirror and her tired voice politely inquires, “is there anything I can help you with?” Unfortunately she cannot think of anything sharp within her room to reach for in case he gets handsy again and she puts the thought in the back of her mind that such a thing isn’t merely a coincidence.

Nico watches her flounder, unburdened of his classically laissez faire attitude. His glance is cooled when she proves she’s able to amble around the room, albeit wrapped in a sheet. Her limbs worked, her speech was functional and without obvious delirium. Brennia was fine by Nico’s estimate. He doesn’t get why she’s fiddling with her hair at this hour. She must be planning on going out, he reasons. “Guards kept whispering about a guest here.” Sufficient. “I didn’t expect it to be you.” He rotates to take in the rest of the room. Before he can say more, bandages materialize around his arm and pull his attention away from her. The same bandages Brennia put on his arm years ago in the caves. He furrows his dark brow. Why did this keep happening? The rogue shakes his bandaged arm but the wrap stays put. Frustrated, he rips the bandaging off, exposing an angry red gash on his arm. He’s trying to compute what’s happening. “What magic is this?”

Brennia’s brow knits together in concern as she looks to the rogue through the reflective surface, “I’ve been here for a couple of weeks now, Nicolau.” Then, she turns toward him with her wings nearly touching the glass of the mirror, “why wouldn’t it be me? We’ve been dear friends for several years now. You saved me from the goblin farm and I won’t leave until I know you’re okay,” the concern is genuine in her expression and tone. The avian’s attention is also distracted by the sudden appearance of a bandage wrapping around his forearm and her eyebrows now raise in surprise. Thoughtlessly, she drops her hold on the sheet in order to approach Nico out of pure concern to inspect his wound because nothing matters to her when someone is hurt and it’s not like she’s naked, “Nico…” Of course he can pick up his favorite scent coming from her if he allows her close enough. Her gaze connects to his deep hazel one, “no magic. Not anymore,” and she could never cause something like this anyway. “This looks exactly like the wound I healed in the caves years ago. I think you’re doing this to yourself, Nico,” her touch is light as it rests along the outer side of his arm that doesn’t have a nasty gash while she looks back at it. “It was there I had admitted my darkest and deepest secret to you. You were the first person I told and as far as I’m concerned, the only one who knows,” since Mama Coin has passed on and her therapist doesn’t count because he cannot tell anyone anyway, but she wonders if he remembers. “Do you need me to get the healer or shall I do it again?”

Nico would have believed a week but two? Her asserts that they'd been friends for several years leaves him frowning. He didn't know her. She was just the liar who pulled him away from his project and said spiteful things that were too close to the truth to be comfortable. "I'm fine." He says, both about her saying she wouldn't leave until he was and the gash on his arm. He's also hit with a smell he doesn't recognize. It's not bad but it's strange. Nico squints at Brennia when she says 'no magic'. He doesn't understand but he doesn't fight against her getting close enough to look at his arm. She didn't have any weapons, he didn't think she was dangerous. Everything she's mentioning feels wrong. "You're thinking of someone else." He decides with a shake of his dark hair. "I don't know any of that." What's most puzzling is the wound. What did she mean, he was doing it to himself? Who would do this? "Nadia's asleep." Nico pauses. "If it's necessary to do so, you're already here." He shows no remorse for breaking into her room at this hour or the fact that he'd attacked her before. If Brennia insists on healing it, he'll sit down on the floor. Do it again. What mind games was she playing? He could test her, see if she'd stand up to questions about these incidents she's talking about. "How did I get it in the caves?"

Brennia doesn't want to upset Nico's delicate state of mind, so when he says that he is fine she lets it go without argument. Shapely lips curve into a kind smile, "we should let her rest then." She guides him to sit on the edge of the bed instead of the floor before finding her bag and cursing herself for not carrying weapons in the thing. Pulling free the same small first aid kit she had years ago, she heads on over to the bed and sits next to Nico before laying his arm across her scarred lap with the gash side up. "Of course it is necessary. Whether you like it or not, I will always care for you and your well being even if you do not remember me," no matter how much that little fact is hurting. While Brennia is preparing the sutures and needle, she is happy he is asking questions because he will be distracted from any pain if there is any. "Well," the avian begins as her wing folds behind them out of the way and she applies a mild cleansing solution around the gash where she will be working, "for a little while, our paths were running parallel. Both powerful people with a driven purpose of leading the citizens of our home, but there were separate forces hunting and tracking us. We had to always be on the move and as fate would have it, one night our paths crossed unexpectedly." She is gently weaving the sutures with a feathery touch at a decent speed just like back in the caves near the cove in Cenril. "Days spent disguising ourselves. We even performed during a fight as emcees when I went by the name Charlise," by now she has finished with the stitches and she looks to Nico again. "Do you have something to cut this?" Knowing he has a second blade and foolishly trusting him not to use it on her again.

Nico stops half way to the floor to be redirected to the side of the bed. The floor seemed more stable but he's no healer. She pulls a healing kit from somewhere, so that box is checked. She was actually a healer of some caliber. Her eyes are on his injury so it gives him time to look at her face. The mark he put there is still visible. Nico doesn't interrupt her. He's focusing on her face, looking for something he just doesn't know what it is. If she's lying, she's a good actress. Her breathing changes and body stiffens as she talks about a past he can't recall. The version she's describing doesn't sound like him. He felt held hostage by the god he helped summon. It wouldn't talk to him. Now that he tries, brow furrowed with effort, he can't remember much of the time before he heard the leviathan's call. Flashes of a tailor, black ichor staining his eyes. A floating book. Skeletal ghosts. He sees Reginae in a third person view, trapping Irenic and Emilia. But she wasn't trapping them. She was... "Protecting them." Nico's rough words don't coincide with anything Brennia'd been saying. His thoughts and her words were blended together like strings he needs to unwind. She asks about cutting the string and he just looks at his stitched arm.

The blade she'd need would be on the side he couldn't reach, by the same arm that kept splitting open. "...since they do a lot of disguises. Like yours." He squints at her, feeling the words pulled from the air and roll off his tongue like his body wasn't his anymore. Witch. This woman was a witch. "No." He growls, gripping the suture line she's asking him to cut. It breaks in his hand and the two separated parts are charred. He'd burned them? The more he can't remember, the more frantic he felt. "That's not me." He tells her, shoulders set and fingers flexing anxiously. "Is it finished?" Nico casts his hazel eyes away from her. He'd been looking at her too long, that must be how she got control of him. "I've got other matters to tend to."

Brennia feels like she is constantly saying all of the wrong things to send Nico into a fit and when he accuses her of using disguises, there is a wounded look on her face, "no… not anymore. I have no power, magical or physical, to be able to disguise myself like that. I hold no seat on the senate of Schezerade like I tried so hard to do. I no longer serve the Bard's Guild in a leadership capacity and I no longer keep the DeVere College of Bardic Arts running anymore. My health has been failing me and I can only teach one class." This effectively renders her useless to Reginae and since she has stepped away from so many things, is anyone really going to come looking for her? The avian continues, "if I did have any power left, don't you think I would have been able to stop you from making this?" She points out the scar he left, forcing him to look back to her face. "Maybe that isn't you- not now, no. It was, though. He was someone I loved," even though he, or Regi, could never love her back. "Is it so hard to believe that you have a friend and ally who just wants to help you? I will… even if I have to get to know you all over again, Nico, I will," her tone and expression is genuine, but then he figuratively shoves himself away. "Just one more thing," she opens up a small tin that has a thick clear substance within which she applies to his wound with the caress of her fingers. He will feel the pain soothe away with a cool sensation and then she wipes the salve from her finger before cupping his cheeks in a bold move so she can look deep into his eyes, "go if you must, but please." Her raspy timbre is a pleasant whisper, "know you are not alone like this force is trying to make you believe." She has no firm hold on him and surely he will wiggle free, but she needed him to understand.

Nico's reactions are like touching a hot stove. Brennia's existence is upsetting. When she talks, it gets worse. The information he gets, about her magic or power or college rolls off him like water. Schezerade gets a look. His head aches. "How am I supposed to know?" He groans. How was he supposed to know if she took that attack on purpose or not. He's standing before she can get the salve. "Yeah it is. We don't belong anywhere. Nagas, they don't belong anywhere. Why would an avian, of all things, care about us?" He snaps, fangs forming where his human canines should be. It won’t be impossible, if we work together. Nico hears his own voice saying those words, in a dream. He pulls free of her, hating all of this. She was too close and saying too many confusing things. The room smells familiar and wrong. "We are all alone." He snaps on his way to the door. "And when it gives me what it's promised...I'll save them all." His hazel eyes round to meet her gaze. Whatever delusion it was, he believed completely in it and thought the cause was a twisted version of just and right. "Go home." The door flies open, hard doorknob slamming into the wall behind it. The male rogue moves through the doorway and out of sight almost instantly. Guards, alerted by the noise, rush to Brennia's quarters.

Brennia stands when he does, her body trying to follow him like a magnet in desperation to get him to see, "how are you supposed to know? Just-" then she flinches away when he snaps at her and her wings start to shake slightly in fear, but she doesn't have the strength to pull away from him. When he pulls free of her, Bre places her hand over her own chest as it aches for the person Nico and Reginae used to be. Tears slip down her cheeks as she shakes her head, "no. I promised a long time ago I am your ally!" She attempts to follow him to the door, but when he rounds back to meet her eyes, she stops dead in her tracks because she cannot see him anymore and all that is left in her own is sadness. "Please, don't let this thing win," she calls out just before he flings her door open and it causes her to jump. She tries to follow him out, but the guards hold her back as she calls out in heartfelt and guttural desperation, "Nicolau!" Once the guards push her back in, they slam the door closed and she rests against the cool feel of it before letting herself slip down to the floor to crumble into tears.