the trick is to keep breathing

omg I haven't written anyone but Sydney and Hardin (in any fandom whatsoever) for six years, please forgive the inevitable awkwardness, but this sparked something. -_-

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In the aftermath, after all he had been through and the revelations about himself that had been uncovered, Ashley wondered if it was strange that he was still able to think so calmly about what must be done.

The most important thing, Ashley recognized in the moments immediately following, was to get away. The ruined city being well and truly beyond anyone's reach now, soon the area would be overwhelmed by more representatives of all the involved factions, coming to see what had become of so many of their agents and pawns and officers, when none of them returned. Including, for the moment, himself and Merlose. They had paused only a moment to take stock of the immediate situation before she took up the boy in her arms and Ashley hefted Sydney again to his shoulder, and they retreated some distance into the mountains to pause and regroup.

She was holding up rather well for what she had experienced, he thought. No emotional scene at his appearing, no running to his arms, only the widening of her eyes at the unexpected burden across his shoulders when he emerged from the cellar, and the observation upon letting down that burden to reveal another he now bore. There was the curious tilt of her head as she noted that he had... changed... and then, as she was an inquisitor, the questions he could not answer until Sydney regained consciousness to explain it to him.

VKP training, no doubt, though not so brutal as his own. He wasn't sure why he was surprised that she remained calm and analytical. Perhaps it was only that he had underestimated her, to his shame, for the simple fact that she was a woman. Ashley had very little experience with women. ...Perhaps none whatsoever, and he had only invented what little he thought he recalled.

And neither that small bit of trivia, nor his fellow agent's gender, mattered at all, for they both recognized that the situation was complex, fragile, and they needed to determine their next actions before it grew more so.

Ashley had some idea of what his next actions would not be, if the burning sensation on his back meant what he assumed it did. Merlose had confirmed it visually, though with a strange difference; when Sydney woke, he could explain more. And if he did not offer an explanation voluntarily, Ashley would gladly pull it from him by whatever means he could. His suspicion was that he now had more means at his disposal with which to do so.

For the time being, Sydney was still unconscious. Merlose too was taking much needed rest, sleeping with Joshua curled up at her side, as Ashley sat keeping watch. Settling down beneath the cover and shade of a tree made perfect logical sense - Ashley would spot anyone else coming before they were spotted - but with nothing to do but think and nothing to see but those around him sleeping...

It was... disquieting. On one side, a woman and child sleeping peacefully under his guard, in the shade of a tree. Yet the woman's hair was dark, and the boy's was light - and if Ashley looked to the other side, there was a blonde covered in blood. Both close enough, yet just different enough, from a memory and a dream, and he could not be certain which was which.

It was actually a relief when Sydney woke, and was willing to answer his questions. ...Silently, at that, so that Merlose and Joshua might remain in peaceful slumber. Which Ashley did not have to look upon or think upon any longer, for the thoughts and memories it roused within him.

Sydney confirmed what he had suspected, and thus Ashley was certain. The four of them must part ways. Ashley could no longer serve the VKP, nor any mortal faction. And he had to admit, deep in what was left of his shattered soul, it was a frightening prospect. To think that he could not simply drift on, waiting to inevitably receive the mission that would end his life - that he no longer was permitted the comforting justification of just following orders, but now he must find his own path, make his own judgments. Whichever set of memories was closest to the truth, it seemed to Ashley that he had done a rather poor job of it thus far.

It was Merlose who set his mind at ease on that point, when she woke and they put some distance between themselves and the sleeping boy to speak quietly of Ashley's plans, or rather the lack thereof beyond not going back. "Admittedly, we have not known each other for so long, but I was told you have survived many missions as a Riskbreaker," she observed, in that cool, detached way she had. "So I assume you must excel at making the correct decisions in difficult circumstances. Sydney is a heartseer, perhaps the strongest living with that talent, given what I learned from his second. He believes that your heart is good enough and strong enough - and would anyone know better then he what this role requires?"

Ashley supposed she had a point, and he appreciated the logic. Though he also was a bit irritated with himself, for he should have found such answers on his own.

"Sometimes we need a different perspective, a vantage point beyond our eyes, before we can see ourselves clearly," she assured him. "It isn't so unusual."

...Yes, he had momentarily forgotten that she too was now among those they called "heartseers". He wasn't sure why that left him more unsettled in her case than in Sydney's. Not that it mattered, for momentarily they would be parting ways, and his suspicion was that they would never meet again.

Indeed, there could be no other path for him. For Merlose, there were options. She was a professional, like himself - she might take the report to their superiors as had been intended all along. She might tell the whole truth about what they had seen, or she might hold back. His impression of her, when he had seen through her eyes, was that she calculated the significance of her advantages and how to use them. She knew not to show her whole hand at once. Her newly awakened talent might serve her well in her role as inquisitor, with none the wiser as to how she managed to find what she sought every time.

Or she might leave it all behind and disappear with the boy, who was soon to become orphaned, and presumably a ward of the state. He would find no carefree childhood in such a position, given the prominence of his family and the importance of his bloodline. Perhaps she might go to what remained of his brother's other family, who would gladly take them in even if Merlose did not tell him who Joshua was, and they could likely help her to learn more of the powers she now possessed. Someday, Ashley might be ready to join with them, but he did not believe his own path as Rood-bearer would resemble Sydney's, surrounded by devoted followers. The thought of anyone looking to him for wisdom, willing to sacrifice on his behalf, was absurd, and honestly disturbing.

For the moment, his intention was to learn as much from Sydney as he could before helping Sydney to finish what he and the duke had begun. And then... he would go nowhere and everywhere, seeking something that he could not put a name to, and which even Sydney was unable to fully articulate.

And this was why, when she asked, he had no answer to give. It explained the disappointed look in her eye, he thought, for even his heart could not betray his silence by speaking when it did not know the words.

Or it could be that the disappointed look was for a different reason, as she called out after him, "Riot, wait!" When he looked back, the disappointment had turned to mild distress.

"Riot..." she said again, walking to catch up with him. "I... had something I wanted to ask you. Of no importance, I suppose, not now, under these circumstances."

"Then why ask?" It was rude, he immediately realized, but it was not in his nature to deal in unnecessary conversation - and it was unlike what he knew of her as well.

At any rate, she did not seem offended by his brusque response. "Because I want to know." She looked up to meet his eyes, a serious expression on her face. "When we arrived at Leá Monde, you said I would be a liability. And indeed, although I was told to partner with you, I was only an intelligence agent - I had nothing to do with your mission beyond informing you of the finer details. And your mission turned out to be... far more significant than either of us expected."

That was true. And yet it made little sense in context for her to say so. "None of this is a question," he pointed out.

"I suppose it isn't." She paused a moment. "With all that was at stake, with all the other lives lost in this incident - why were you so intent on ensuring my safety? Even after I told you not to bother, to fulfill your mission?"

That was a question. And a rather good one. It had several possible answers, and perhaps fortunately for him, Ashley wasn't sure which was the correct one. It meant that once again, his heart could not betray him by answering without his consent.

But when he opened his mouth to say so, he realized that her heart was not so loyal, for it betrayed her through her eyes.

It made his own options for answering all the more uncertain. For it could be only that she - that both of them, if he were to be honest - had been under great strain during the events of the last day. That the two of them had experienced something strange and terrible and amazing, memories that neither of them would share with anyone else among the living. That might be all it was, the bond of shared trauma.

Or it might be something else. He had seen much of what had unfolded through her eyes - "a like rhythm", Rosencrantz had said. During his time within Leá Monde, his eyes had been fixed on her, and through her. They knew one another better than the time they had known each other should have allowed for.

And whether there was a right or a wrong answer, it mattered not at all when Ashley already knew what must be done.

But because it did not matter one way or the other, he took a step closer, lifted a hand to cautiously rest it against her face, cupping her cheek. When her only response was to turn her face upwards, still with that curiosity in the pursing of her lips, he dared to lean in and kiss them. Only briefly, softly. Just to see.

She was too surprised to even react in kind before he drew back. ...And he still was not sure.

And still it did not matter. "Wherever you choose to go," he muttered, "may whichever of these 'gods', if any of them truly exist, see you there safely."

As he turned away once more, she remained silent behind him, still stunned. Then again, "Agent Riot... Ashley...!"

"There is nothing more to say," he stated, starting on his way back to where Sydney was waiting for him, so that they might depart.

"You're wrong." Her quiet laughter sounded slightly shaky. "One more order of business. In the cellar, before all of this started... You promised me a rare vintage, did you not?"

No, he was right. She asked not because the wine of Leá Monde held any interest to her, but because she wished him to linger, even if only for the space of a sentence, perhaps the length of a cup. He paused; he might grant her such meager comfort as the first, if he could think of something more to say than a blunt yes or no as was his habit.

"...And it has been given you," he said finally, turning back once again, but not quite looking her in the eye. "Rare indeed - I could not say for certain whether any has drunk of it before. And it seems unlikely that any should do so again." Again he paused, but truly there was nothing more to be said between them. "Farewell, Callo."

This time she seemed to agree, if reluctantly so, and she said nothing more as he departed.