Fire
Another one that surprisingly did not show up! I went with 'burn' instead, and we've been gifted with Crowe, whose fic is now the bane of my existence.
Crowe watched the steam rise from her coffee, cotton-white against the pitch-black sky. It was freezing up on top of the building, perched on some steel beams, but it gave her the best view of the city. She could see the Citadel illuminated cold white against the night and the barest beginnings of the sprawl of slums peaking out from below, the faint glow a golden promise of warmth. Of home. Of where she couldn’t be. Not right now, anyway. She swallowed back the part of her that whispered ‘forever,’ washing it down with over-sweet coffee that burned her tongue. No, right now she had to focus on getting the package into the right hands. Crowe chewed on a cold fry, glaring at the Citadel in the distance. The extremely short list of safe hands, now that she knew what she was up against. Drautos. She felt rage boiling in her blood again, skating hot along her skin, as she thought about that snake again. He was probably slithering through the halls of the Citadel right now, plotting all the ways to make her disappear if she ever showed her face again. Plotting all the ways he could destroy her home, the same way he destroyed Galahd by siding with the Empire. The way he had probably doomed her hometown long before that.
Thanks for asking <3
