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bit you and fought you when you were saving my body. Saving me. I am so, so deeply sorry, Delyth. I know you are a warrior and accustomed to pain and— and you’re so very brave but… That I hurt you.” Her hand reached out, halfway to the halfbreed. Imploring. “I feel sick, knowing that I… I have such terrible darkness within me. Delyth, Please. What can I do to repair this? I cherish our friendship—I mean… I did.”

“What?” Delyth said, half-uncomprehending. Frustration built up in her chest and colored her voice. “That’s what you think? Look!”

She slid closer and shoved her arm forward for inspection. After healing, the bite was barely discernible against her pale skin, already crisscrossed with scars healed by less skillful practitioners of the art.

“It's gone. Erased,” she said gruffly. “Besides, Enyo did that, not you. You— you just don’t get it, do you?” Immediately, she regretted the words when Alphonse winced.

“I…” Alphonse fumbled, voice trembling slightly. “I know you’re sworn to her and that she is your Goddess. I’m sorry, Delyth. I just vanished with her. Enyo is precious to you, and I stole her away… I just— I wanted to keep everyone safe.”

Delyth just looked at Alphonse, stunned. She thought that Delyth was hurt because she’d taken Enyo?

“I—that’s the reason you thought I—”

Guilt hit harder than Enyo did.

Maybe that should have been the reason for Delyth’s hurt. Maybe she should have been worried about failing in her duties to the Goddess that she had served all her life. The priestess still wanted to do her duty, but not for Enyo.

The realization came with its own self-doubt, but for the moment, it seemed so important that Alphonse understood her. It was compulsory, a wrenching pull.

“You left me behind.” Delyth’s voice was hoarse and breaking. “Did you not trust me to stand by you? I thought— You said we were friends.”

“I— Of course, I want to be your friend. I didn’t think you wanted to be friends with me anymore— That’s beside the point!” the healer whispered emphatically. “I left because—because… I thought, alone, with Etienne’s magic…I might avoid so much… destruction.”

Delyth growled and rubbed her face with her hands. “That doesn’t even make sense!” She kept her voice to a whisper, but just barely.

What, in everything that they had experienced so far, convinced Alphonse that Etienne alone would be less destructive than having her along too? Enyo loved targeting Etienne. She made his life hell and would no doubt seriously hurt him if given the chance. “I am here to help you!” she said, trying to get Alphonse to understand. “But I can’t if you won’t let me. I know I haven’t known you as long as Etienne, but I feel like I deserve at least a warning before getting left behind. Do you want me to go?”

Delyth stopped herself from saying more. She wasn’t sure when the last time she had spoken this much was, and she felt like if she kept talking, she would ramble on until she gave herself away.

“No! I don’t want you to go!” Alphonse gasped, yanking her hand away from Delyth and wrapping her arms about herself, tears starting to drip onto her cheeks.“I cried and cried and cried. I cried all night. I couldn’t sleep without you.”

There was a thick rope tied round Delyth’s ribs, pulling them open.She felt exposed. A few tears beaded and fell from her eyes. She wanted to be comforted, to tug Alphonse close until she stopped crying.

Only, she didn’t want to scare the girl away.

Had she meant that she couldn’t sleep without the priestess? Maybe Alphonse still had some trust in her.

Delyth opened her arms in a silent invitation. “Just promise you won’t leave me again.”

Alphonse didn’t hesitate as she threw herself into Delyth’s embrace. She slipped her arms about the priestess’s waist and buried her face in the thicket of blackhair, nose brushing against the crook of Delyth’s neck. Her face was damp, still shedding tears.

“I’m sorry!” she stammered, the words muffled against Delyth’s braids. “I promise!”

Alphonse was sobbing again, her breath coming in shuddering gasps, but something within Delyth had relaxed the moment the healer had hugged her close. Nothing could be quite so bad with the warm press of Alphonse’s form against her.

She settled the smaller woman more comfortably in her arms, pulling her into her lap so that she might cradle Alphonse against her shoulder. She came easily, eagerly even. As though she wanted to be held, to be comforted.

“Hush,” Delyth murmured, a nonsense sound meant more to be reassuring than anything else. “I’ve got you. Everything is going to be alright.”

The healer made no answer, but that was fine. Her grip around Delyth only tightened, and the warrior traced slow circles in her back with an open palm, the damp on her own cheeks drying in the warm air.

It was only gradually that Delyth became aware of the brush of air against her collarbone, feather-light and uneven with tears. She shivered slightly, despite the heat of the tent. Alphonse’s body was a coal against hers.

Delyth took a deep, shuddering breath, her hand pausing in its gentle motion. It was impossible to deny, to herself, at least, that she had feelings for the little healer, but she might keep it to herself still. Keep from putting Alphonse in an awkward position should she not feel the same.

“Delyth?” Alphonse asked, pulling back slightly as though worried by the warrior’s sudden stillness. Her cheeks were still wet, but her eyes were wide and bright, and her lips no longer trembled.

The warrior breathed in again, her chest swelling shakily, and before she could think better of it, before she could stop herself, she leaned in and pressed her lips to Alphonse’s cheek.

The healer went still, and for a moment, Delyth despaired. It had felt like a small thing, but it was clearly unwanted.

Delyth straightened again, opening her mouth to speak, only to find Alphonse’s gaze upon her, pupils round and dark, lips

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