The Tsar, The Princess And The Tailor

And Peace

Ixora's heart flipped silently within her chest when she caught sight of Genya by her bedside, spittle trailing down her fair cheek and onto the pillow while her hands stayed firm around hers. She swallowed down the emotions as they came, desperate to be a little more normal - at least until she had spoken to Nikolai - her slight movement drawing Genya into consciousness.

The Tailor smiled sweetly at her, hands straying only slightly from Ixora's. She seemed to be thinking for a moment before she suddenly moved close, snuggling herself into Ixora's neck so she could breathe in all the scent of the woman possible. Ixora welcomed her with open arms, gently enveloping the woman who only wept quietly in response. It hurt to know she had caused her fiery-haired zowa any pain but there was little she could do. Taking down that drug-influenced, overpowered Squaller had taken so much out of her.

"You are alive. I- I'm glad you are alive."

"So am I. There's much to do. And one of them... Do you mind if I..."

Genya blinked at her as Ixora struggled with the words to say. It was tricky, truly, it was. She was unsure of how the woman would feel about being asked for something so intimate and utterly non-platonic so suddenly. The Tailor's cheeks warmed the more Ixora struggled for words until quite suddenly, she closed the gap between them and placed a feathery kiss to her lips.

Ixora's expression melted into a smile, whisking all of Genya's fears away. They shared a comfortable silence for a moment. It pressed upon them, the urge to try it again but Ixora wouldn't let herself. Not until she knew whether it was okay with Nikolai or not. Even now, she felt an urge to get them both together and explain everything but remembering Nikolai's shattered expression that painful night caused her some panic. Genya was watching every slight movement, taking a momentary wince of confusion as rejection and startled both of them when she sharply pulled away from Ixora.

"Gen-"

"I have to go! Umm... Help! With the wounded!!" With that, she disappeared. Ixora brushed her fingers over her lips and slowly stood, wondering how long Genya had waited for her to wake. She couldn't help but wonder how everyone was.

She walked leisurely about the castle, trying to avoid going to see the tsar and the difficult conversation to come. It was mainly silent - perhaps the Fjerdans were gone? They'd certainly been subdued when they were defeated in hardly any time at all. She heard the voices of Zoya and Alina quite clearly arguing, stopping herself outside the door where they stood side by side, a young, dark-skinned woman in a gilded cage behind them both.

"Zoya, she has spent a large portion of her life in captivity. She can hardly speak any Fjerdan, not to speak of our language but that gives you no right to call her that name!"

"Pet is a wonderful name, Alina. You like it, don't you, Pet?" Pet gave a gentle nod, unsure of what to do when Zoya reached a hand into her cage. At first, she seemed terrified of it but quickly realised she was not going to be hurt by the woman who had led her away from the battlefield. Leaning into her hand, a happy little squeak left her lips as she gazed at Zoya with a soft glow in her eyes...

Her eyes remained trained on the woman, keying into her every move and word. Not being able to understand didn't mean she couldn't stare. The stranger was not mean like the big, scary Fjerdan men... And she was rather nice to look at, too.

"Perhaps she's Zemeni? Should we get Ixora to take a look?"

"Not all Zemeni speak the same language, Zoya," she muttered with a clicked tongue. Zoya shrugged in slight apology, Alina huffing beside her.

"Ixora? Tell this woman not to call our new friend by that name."

"Pet likes being called Pet. Let it alone, Alina. It fits you perfectly, you dangerous creature." Zoya smirked and Pet nodded again in response, not sure of anything but the fact that she seemed happy. Ixora tried to speak a bit of her native language to her, giving up rather quickly.