‘Verse: Resistance
Story: Unlikely Salvation, co-author @whump-sprite
Timeline: Arc 3, Ariadne is on probation with the Resistance
Traitor, pt4
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Alex pulls up a chair right next to Ariadne, and carefully puts his arms around her.
“It’s okay,” he tells her gently. “You made a mistake. We all do.”
She is speechless, wide eyes bloodshot from crying. Alex hesitates, then he tentatively lifts her shoulders from the table and leans her against himself instead. She is ragdoll-floppy, shivering in his arms.
“I…” she tries, “I’m sorry. ... m’not supposed to …” A sob shakes her shoulders.
“Not supposed to what?”
“To… still care. To… um… to… hesitate…”
Alex waits patiently as she struggles with the words. That guy very clearly doesn’t care about her. But it seems like a bad time to say it.
“Reyan trusted me,” she continues, “and I… ...I’m supposed to know better…”
“Now you know. It’s okay.” Alex tucks her head closer against his collarbone. “Caring is impossible to control.”
She snivels, and there are more little sobs. “‘m so fucking useless, Alex.”
“No you’re not. You do so much for us. I said, we all make mistakes.”
No one died this time. They were lucky. People died when Alex gave up a safehouse. To her. And somehow Anders and Taryn and Daniel have forgiven that. Her hesitation seems like a small thing in comparison.
“I can just go,” she suggests, “f’it’s better. Get out of the way. People’d stop talking about you...”
Alex blinks at her, shocked. “That would break my fucking heart.”
“... okay. M’sorry.”
Very hesitantly, she puts her arms around Alex’s middle. He hugs her back, not as fiercely as he’d like to, mindful of her poor head. And when she doesn’t object, he pulls her carefully into his lap. It’s not comfortable, on the hard-backed chairs, but it’s worth it. One hand slides up her back and into her hair, exploring until his fingers find the lump where the fed hit her. He can feel her pulse in the swelling. And Anders used mind magic on her. She must be hurting so much.
He lets numbing magic flow from his fingers, stroking it across her scalp. She leans her head into his touch and makes a quiet, helpless sound that breaks Alex’s heart. She’d never let herself make a sound like that if she could help it. “Relax,” he tells her. “Keep your head there. I can do this for a while, it won’t drain me.”
There’s not much lasting damage for him to heal. He will, of course. But she doesn’t need to know that right now. It’s not enough to drain him either, and she doesn’t need to worry about it. Mostly what she needs is numbing for the pain.
“Thank you,” she murmurs. She sounds exhausted and unhappy.
But miraculously she does start to relax. Her breathing evens out. The shivering diminishes and stops.
He hated being mad at her.
Alex waits a good long while before he asks her anything more. He has to adjust his position to alleviate pins and needles. She shifts with him, helping him out.
“Did you really give Anders permission to do that?” Alex asks carefully.
“Yes.” No hesitation. “He said Kerril said I’d been… uh, in league… planning it… I just wanted him to know I never meant to.” She sounds so miserable. “Wanted him to know none of it was fake. I faltered and I didn’t trust my orders and I should have and I’m a fuckup but I didn’t lie to you, I didn’t mean to betray you.”
Alex squeezes her tightly. Her breath is all shuddery again, threatening to break apart into more sobs.
“I heard that too,” he tells her. “I couldn’t believe it but…. yeah. Just… come here. You’re not a fuckup. I’ve got you.”
She clings to his clothes, and he rubs circles on her back until she starts to calm down again.
“Shall we move to the couch,” he suggests. “I want to hold you properly.”
“Okay,” she agrees softly.
He doesn’t have to take as much of her weight this time as he did a few hours ago. But neither of them are in any hurry to let go of each other. When they get to the couch he flops back on the cushions, pulling her down on top of him. One hand supporting her head again to make sure it isn’t jolted. She sighs in exhausted relief as she tucks her legs in against his, and he smiles tiredly.
“If you could do the head thing,” she says, “You could look at anything, I wouldn’t mind. No secrets.”
“This is all I can do to your head,” he uses a stronger pulse of numbing magic, “And I like it that way.”
She sniffles and nuzzles in close. “You’re very good to me.”
“Anders hates doing that,” Alex tries to tell her.
“Oh.” She doesn’t sound surprised.
He sighs softly. “You can ask me anything though. No secrets here either.”
And saying it, he realises that it’s true. He trusts her with anything. He didn’t think he doubted her loyalty before - until this whole mess. But Anders has been in her head now and seen it. The proof eases a knot of doubt that Alex didn’t realise he was still carrying.
Ariadne is quiet for a long while, and Alex starts to think she is falling asleep. She’s warm and heavy in his arms and he’s so, so glad to have her back. He’s starting to doze himself when she speaks.
“Are you okay?”
“Hm? Like, at the moment? Yeah. Generally? You know I’m a mess.”
“Oh,” she says mournfully, and he hugs her a little closer. “I’m glad you’re not hurt.”
“Me too,” he agrees.
She makes a soft hum, sad but amused.
Alex thinks about going to bed. But this is too nice. She’s calm and she’s not crying any more. He doesn’t want to disrupt that. They can just stay here for a while, it won’t be the first time.
