Chapter Text
Rin grits her teeth, jaw grinding painfully as swathes of heavy red fabric envelop her. Silk feels like sandpaper. Jewels like burning stones. Cosmetics like poison on her skin.
She’s been inside a waking nightmare for days, but only now has it started to feel real.
Around her is a flurry of activity. Anxious attendants running back and forth, making sure everything about this day is perfect, perfect for the Yin heir’s wedding day. Rin is no different from a folded tablecloth, a carefully-arranged bouquet of flowers – a mantlepiece to be presented as beautifully as possible for Jinzha to claim.
Not a girl with her own dreams and wants and goals, a girl who’d been just days away from taking an exam that would have earned her the freedom she prayed for, a girl who wants to stay with the other half of her heart.
How could everything have gone so wrong, so fast?
She’s been locked away in her room ever since she started to bleed, she hadn’t been able to see Venka, Kitay, Nezha. She feels like she’s going insane, spiralling into her own fear and anger and self-pity, with no one there to comfort her, hold her. Her only comfort is the beloved ruby pendant hanging around her neck, the only thing amidst her crumbling dreams she was able to hold onto, to fold under the layers of her heavy robes and keep for herself.
She presses her hand to her chest, feels its outline against her palm through the fabric.
Today, she will marry Jinzha. Tonight, she will be in his bed.
She’s not sure whether to cry or scream. She does neither.
People come and go, all muted background noise amidst Rin’s greying world, numbed thoughts. Lady Saikhara steps in, at one point, but Rin continues to look forward blankly, staring at a wall, staring at nothing as the attendants let go of her fabrics and jewels and hair, finally done, leave the room until she’s alone with the lady of the house.
“Mai’rinnen.” Saikhara’s voice is stony, even. “The wedding ceremony will be conducted soon, within a few hours.”
Rin doesn’t reply. She feels frozen, emotionless, like everything has been drained from a lifeless corpse.
She hears Saikhara let out a low, displeased noise at her rudeness. “I better get no problems from you. Just follow the steps and keep quiet, that’s all we ask of you.”
A tiny prick of heat, emotion, breaks through, somewhere behind her eye. A hot, burning tear forms behind her lashes.
A few hours, and she’ll be owned.
“Is that clear, Mai’rinnen?”
A few hours, and she’ll never be Nezha’s again.
“Mai’rinnen.”
A few hours, then a few hours more, and Jinzha will claim her body from the inside out. She wonders if it will hurt.
The heat of emotion had spread, now, drawing tears from eye to eye, dripping down her throat and making it hard to breathe, wrapping around her heart and cracking it into pieces.
“Yes.” She whispers, voice broken. She wants to fight Saikhara, to scream and claw and punch – but what will that really accomplish?
Maybe if she’s nice and docile, she’ll get to see Nezha one more time before Jinzha drives an irreparable wedge between their love.
No, not a wedge. She’ll always love Nezha, and she knows he’ll always love her.
But if Jinzha doesn’t destroy her heart, her love, she still worries he’ll destroy her mind, the fragile stability she’d built with Nezha’s help ever since those days she’d wanted to throw herself off her balcony edge.
She barely keeps her shoulders from trembling, a sudden rising terror and despair a stark contrast to the numbness of the previous moments. She wonders if Nezha can feel this awful, awful desperation. She hopes he doesn’t, that he won’t suffer like her.
She hears Saikhara sigh behind her, feet move as if from a distance. “Fine. Behave.”
Saikhara leaves, leaves her alone in the silence, and that’s when Rin finally falls apart.
She drops to her knees with a sob, expensive beautiful awful blinding ridiculous fabrics crumpling around her, beneath her, a sea of blood red, the blood red that runs within her veins.
Tears run burning hot down her cheeks, melt her skin. She feels like she’s dying. Like her soul is shattering. Like her worth has been narrowed to nothing more than property, like her dreams of achievements and freedom have been whisked away on the wind. Like the flowery scent that always lingers in the back of her nose, reminds her of Nezha, is already fading from a few days apart. Like a lifetime apart will crush her spine and shrivel her soul. She presses her hand harder to her sternum, until the ruby pendant digs into her skin, presses an indent into her chest. She hopes it leaves a mark, a permanent scar. She hopes it owns her, claims her, before Jinzha nor any other man aside from the one she loves ever could.
She has no options – she can’t run, even she was able to slip away. Where would she go? Would she really leave Nezha behind forever? She can’t plead her way out of this, she can’t outsmart her way out of this. She has no options.
A striking, overwhelming feeling hits her, then.
She misses her mama so, so much. She would know what to do, she would comfort her, hold her in her arms, nuzzle her nose to hers until the tears ebb away.
She would save her, protect her. She wants her mama, she wants Nezha, she even wants that old stuffed boat, like a child. She just wants to be comforted, cherished, loved.
Her hand presses harder to the pendant, so hard that the skin below stings, that she feels a drop of hot, viscous blood drip down her sternum, sink into the fabric of her gown.
The gown, red as blood, as death.
The one escape she didn’t want to consider. They want her body, her submission, her womb.
Her heart hammers in her chest, sweat dripping down the back of her neck, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
What if she could destroy the one thing she’s useful for?
Rin’s nails dig into the tense, fleshy part of her underbelly, where her betraying blood had flown from, where she would carry Jinzha’s children.
Never. She will never. Not his.
Perhaps it’s blind, terrified desperation that drives her, now. She can barely see through her tears, can barely hear herself ripping a long, sharp hairpin from her hair, locks tumbling down her shoulders.
She lowers her arm, presses the sharp point of the pin right above her pelvis, right where she thinks it will do the most damage.
Perhaps she’ll ruin her womb forever. Perhaps she’ll bleed out and die.
Either way, in this awful, dark moment, it all sound better than the alternative.
She feels a sudden, blinding heat at her fingertips. She blinks harshly, mist clearing just enough to see the shining light that greets her.
For a moment, the fear clears. She sees clearly. She laughs. She stops.
There, at her fingers, is the fire she’d been desperately begging to summon. It’s weak, fading, but it’s there, playing with her fingertips.
It feels like a sign.
She starts to cry again, fear and sadness and regret pouring back into her soul like a flood, hands shaking as they clutch onto her hairpin, fire burning around the handle. Maybe it’ll cauterize the wound.
Or maybe not. That’s okay. When she sees her mama again, soon, she’ll get to tell her that she figured out how to summon fire, all on her own. She wonders if she’ll smile at her with pride, sweep her up into her arms.
There are worse things than that-
Nezha will be all alone.
The thought forces itself into her mind like an unwelcome intruder, violent and awful.
She can’t… she can’t do that to him.
Will she endure suffering, if it means she doesn’t abandon him?
Yes. Without hesitation.
She stares at her shaking, fiery hands, the sharp pin pressed to her gut hard enough to pierce through the fabric of her gown, now.
She can’t. She won’t.
But she can’t bring herself to move the hairpin away, either.
Her breath shatters in her lung, fresh sobs clawing up her throat, conflicting and painful thoughts rushing through her head-
“Rin? Rin- Rin!”
She doesn’t have to make the difficult decision to move the hairpin away from her gut. The other half of her heart does it for her. And then she’s sobbing into Nezha’s chest, and her soul feels whole again.
“Rin, Rin, my Rin, sweetheart – Ài-jîn, it’s okay, it’s okay, Rin…”
Nezha chants Rin’s name, attempts desperately, painfully, to reassure her, to comfort her. She’d been all alone, these past few days, suffering without him, suffering enough to try to hurt herself, to manage to summon her flames, now extinguished against his body. He feels the sudden heat of pride, pride for grasping at her heritage, bringing it forth – but if only it were under better circumstances. It had torn him apart from the inside, being apart from her, and now to see the result, to see her holding the sharp blade of the hairpin to her stomach, sobbing uncontrollably?
It nearly breaks him.
He wants to let her cry for as long as she needs to, as long as she desires. But they are running out of time.
“Rin,” he says softly, so softly, lips against her hair, holding her trembling body tightly. The hairpin is set aside now, out of reach.
He pulls back, just a little, presses his palms to her cheeks, wipes away her flowing tears with his thumbs, nuzzles her nose with his. “Don’t cry, my love. Don’t hurt yourself. I promise, it will all be okay.”
“Nezha.” her voice is a whimper, desperate. “Thank you, for coming to see me.”
“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t come sooner. I had to sneak in through the window, and I couldn’t risk getting caught until I made all the preparations.”
Rin sniffles, blinking tears away. “Preparations?”
Nezha caresses her cheek with his thumb, smiling sadly. “You didn’t think I’d abandon you to Jinzha, did you?”
Rin blinks. "Please, gods, tell me you didn't do something stupid like kill him."
He chuckles. "No."
Rin purses her lips, uncertain. She shifts closer. “But... then there isn’t anything we can do, now. I can’t take the Keju. I’m marrying him in a few hours.”
Nezha leans in, kisses her tear-streaked cheek. “There is something we can do.”
Pulling back, he shifts his eyes to the side, to the heavy satchel he’d spent days preparing. Rin follows his gaze, eyes landing on the pack.
“Nezha,” Rin murmurs, voice shaky. “What’s that?”
He smiles. “Provisions, jewels we can sell, a few other things we’ll need. I have an escape route planned out, we should be able to get far away before anyone notices you missing. What’s in the satchel should be enough to get us out of the city, into the next province. Enough to buy a small home, enough to-”
“Nezha.”
Nezha falls into silence, interrupted by Rin’s tone, so shocked.
“You… you’re asking me to run away with you, I- I-” Rin stammers off, eyes jumping wildly. “You can’t abandon your entire life for me.”
Nezha blinks. “Are you serious?”
Rin purses her lips, suddenly not meeting his eyes. “You’ll be giving up not only on your family, but your future – the Keju, Sinegard, all the greatness that awaits you. I can’t be the reason you abandon all those things.”
Ka-têng, Nezha recalls, suddenly. He curls his hand under her chin, lifts her face until she looks at him once more.
Ka-têng, the first word she’d taught him – family. She’s the one who’d been there for him. She’s his family. She’s everything, every dream and goal and greatness he could achieve.
“You asked me, once, why I love you,” Nezha says softly, looking into her eyes. “Do you still want to know?”
Rin inhales a soft, uncertain breath. After a moment, she nods.
“You’re the only thing that has any meaning in my world. I would abandon anything, for you. You don’t even need to ask, my love. I’m going with you. I’m never leaving you.”
For a moment, she just stares at him, an ocean of emotion in her eyes. Rin’s lip trembles.
“You mean it?” She says, voice cracking. “You want this? To leave with me? To live as… nobodies? Not a Warlord’s son, not a last Speerly?”
Nezha just smiles. He knows she can see the answer in the joy on his face. “Maybe we’ll open a little shop, somewhere quiet. I’ll craft things: furniture, tools, things people will buy. You can paint them, make them beautiful. It will be a small life – but with you in it, bigger than anything I could have ever dreamed of. We’ll be together. Maybe, one day, we’ll see Venka and Kitay again – I already told them what we are going to do. As we grow old, we’ll pass our shop down to our children-”
Nezha falters, flushing. Maybe he got a little carried away. “I mean, if you want kids, it’s okay if not-”
Rin flushes too, heart pattering hard enough to feel in his own chest. She chews on her lip, thinking.
When she speaks again, it is soft, hopeful. “After losing my family, I’d love nothing more than to build one with you.”
She meets his eyes, then, no longer shy. “We’ll have a little boy. He’ll have Mingzha’s eyes.”
Nezha sucks in a breath, heart swelling with love and desire and hope.
“And then we’ll have a wonderful little girl,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, pressing his lips to hers. “She’ll have a smile like your mother’s.”
When he feels hot, wet tears, his, maybe hers, he pulls back.
Rin watches him, eyes glistening. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Let’s go, my Nezha. Let’s start our life together.”
Epilogue
Wood creaks beneath her feet, bends slightly from her weight. It’s old, worn. But it’s home.
Rin leans her elbows on the simple railing of her balcony, stares out into the night. The air is warm, comforting, this evening. It envelops her from all sides, chases away any whispers of cold.
She looks up at the dark, cloudy sky above her. She wonders if her mama is looking down at her, if she’s happy for her. If she was watching her that day Rin and Nezha escaped from Arlong with nothing but a few pieces of expensive jewellery tucked away into their clothing and a satchel. If she was watching her when they used that expensive jewellery to purchase a little woodworking shop in a distant city, when they began a life selling wood pieces carved by Nezha, painted by Rin. When they got married in a small, unwitnessed ceremony. Rin wonders if her mama was watching for everything that came after.
Rin likes to think so. As long as her mama is alive in her mind, she’ll never truly leave her.
A little noise creaks from behind her, indicates an opening door. Rin smiles just in time to feel a familiar body step up beside her, take her hand in his. His hand is so, so warm. When she looks over, she finds two pairs of eyes staring back.
From where she nestles into Nezha’s chest, held securely by his arm, their toddler daughter looks up at Rin with her mama’s eyes, having left Rin too early, but living on through her granddaughter. In her tiny arms, she clutches an old, fraying stuffed boat. When she tilts her face up, big eyes full of stars, Rin leans down, nuzzles her nose with hers.
As soon as she pulls back, Nezha asks Rin if she’s alright in lovely, lilting Speerly, soft smile curling on those beautiful lips. At this point, nearly every conversation of theirs is entirely in Speerly.
Rin looks down, squeezing Nezha’s hand, suddenly overwhelmed with feelings. “Yes.”
Beneath the balcony, she sees a drop to the worn city street. It’s too late for anyone to be walking by, and the drop is steep enough to be considered dangerous.
But unlike the cold, terrifying memories of her old Arlong room, the marble balcony that she’d been convinced might lead her to her mama, this one invokes nothing more but mild disinterest. Rin spends a lot more time looking up, now, instead of down.
She knows she won’t find her mama at the bottom of the fall. Not like she wants to, anyway. Maybe she will see her in the afterlife, one day, as flesh and blood as she’d been before the tragedy on Speer. Maybe one day much, much later, the little family she’s building here will join her too, will combine the two halves of her existence into one whole. But for now, she gets to hear her toddler yawn adorably from where she’s curled into Nezha’s chest. For now, there is still so much life left to live.
So, she’ll live it, holding Nezha’s hand as she does.