[Requiem] The beginning of an end

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 For my own safety, I need to know.

A shiver of vulnerability? He was right to feel scared. She had been scared too. If a war broke out, her Prince would be coming for him first. And would his Sire be coming for her?

Morel could take the fall for being so blatant, and gladly remove the focus from her, but as She stepped close and breathed her in, Darcy thought she felt her cold, long-dead heart give a nervous thud.

Please, don’t.

She was building herself back up, piece by piece. She was trying to become worthy of him, again. She had warmed to the Irish burr of a stranger because it formed an echo of his softer, thoughtful lilt in her mind.

Come back to me, Darcy.

Not yet. Not yet…

A missive from her faceless Masters lay open on the table. A chess piece moved. A new thread begun. But She… She had not been a part of this Plan. Darcy had watched the creeping horror in Eliza as Cadeyrn shuffled past like a puppet and imagined the same look as it might sit on his beautiful face.

I left him Kent. I played my part.

The tug of her own strings led her away, away… Slinking out of sight, quiet as a mouse.

Please don’t.

She watched, that sinking, heavy pull weighing down the blood that lay dormant in her swollen veins as her old lover squared up to the mouthpiece of the Old One.

Not yet.

This was not a part of her Plan. This was not The Way. And who did she have to stumble home to and filter through the layers of dread weaving knots in her mind? Where was home, now, anyway? Home had been him. The first thing to pull her back from Them. The reason to be better.

War, then?

Not yet.

Not yet.