Oh my giddy aunt, two updates in such a short amount of time? There must be something wrong with me.
You're welcome.
Ok guys, be prepared for some more Morven scenes in this chapter...
Hope you enjoy!
Eventually, after Rosalind had successfully shown Mor and Bloom off to almost everyone in the room, the call for food echoed throughout the courtyard, and the two girls were ushered towards the banquet.
It truly was stunning, Mor could not lie.
Foliage adorned the walls, vines twisting around the pillars and flowers decorating the stone. Butterflies danced through air and the sunlight cascaded through the windows, onto the rings of tables in dappled pools, illuminating the glassware set upon the white tablecloths. Scattered around the tables, flickering candles added a touch of intimacy to the banquet, and murmurs of praise drifted up from the alums as they all filtered in and found their respective seats.
The only thing spoiling the view were the soldiers dotted around the place - sheltering in the shadows, yet very much still there.
As her eyes drifted from soldier to soldier, Mor's attention was suddenly captured by the arrival of two young men. Both were dressed in suits, but one looked significantly sharper where the other looked a tad on the scruffy side. Almost simultaneously, Bloom and Morrigan halted in their footfalls, eyes trained on these new arrivals.
"Thought you might like some company." Rosalind remarked smartly, before swanning off to find her seat.
But the woman's words fell on deaf ears, as Mor honed in on the scruffier boy. He was clad in a blue suit and a white shirt that was unbuttoned at the top, just low enough to boast the figure that lay beneath, but not too low as to be improper - yet Mor still had to force herself to maintain eye contact. A shadow of stubble coated his jawline, and his brunette hair was the perfect mix between messy and neat.
Shit.
Riven looked good. Riven looked really good.
"Princess..." He seemed to be experiencing just as much shock as he was, his voice soft, uncertain.
Swiftly, she scanned him over for any signs of injury - after all, the last time she'd seen him was when he was just about to be interrogated by Rosalind, and she, of all people, knew just how torturous that could be. But there didn't seem to be anything visible. Mor wasn't too sure whether that was a good thing or not, though.
"Are you ok?" They asked in unison, before chuckling awkwardly at the coincidence.
Clearing her throat, Mor tried again, her words cautious, "A-Are you alright? The last time I saw you, you were about to be questioned by Rosalind."
Riven's expression darkened slightly as he walked down the steps to meet her, "I'll be honest, I can't really remember what happened during that time. It's all a blur. All I know is that the bitch was in my head."
That must be how Rosalind knew about her and her friends helping Silva escape, Mor realised silently.
"What about you, Princess?" Riven continued, concern now twisting at his features as he, too, scanned her for injury, "Are you ok? When I asked to see you after my questioning, Andreas told me I was no longer needed as your guard. They wouldn't let me in. And now... you're here."
At that, a small smile graced her lips as she glanced down, "I'm here. No chains."
Following her gaze, Riven's eyes landed upon the ring of blistered skin around each of her wrists. Gently, he took her hands in his own, his thumb tracing the edge of the wounds with featherlight touches. Mor watched carefully as a muscle in his jaw ticked and a dangerously ruthless glint flared in his eyes.
So, to avoid a scene, Mor dropped her hands from his grasp and levelled him with a pointed expression, "Calm down. I handled it. Believe me, Rosalind will think twice about touching me again."
And just to emphasise her point, Mor allowed her magic to flow through her veins, igniting an emerald green fire around her pupils. What looked like a mix between awe and pride fluttered across Riven's face, soothing the anger from before.
"Atta girl," He grinned, and continued quickly before she could protest against the phrase, "What are we doing here, anyways?"
Puffing out a long breath, Mor crossed her arms over her chest, "Well, I'm here for Rosalind to show off, and you're here to keep me quiet."
Riven raised a suggestive eyebrow, "Oh, yeah? And how, pray tell, will I be keeping you quiet?"
Pulling a face, Mor shook her head and decided it was about time to move on, "You are actually disgusting."
"How am- you said it, not me!" He exclaimed as he trailed after her, pulling out her chair for her to sit down before pushing it back under.
"You are an actual child." Mor chided, shooting him a look as he slid into the seat next to her, "It's unbelievable."
But Riven just grinned shamelessly, "It's your fault."
"How is it my fault?"
"You stimulate me and my dirty mind."
"I what?" Mor hissed, head whirling in his direction, "I stimulate you?"
That stupid grin widened further as he wiggled his eyebrows at her, "In more ways than one."
"Oh, sweet Jesus, and you're at it again." Mor groaned, dropping her head into her hands in despair.
"I can't help it!"
"Try harder."
"What if I don't want to?"
Lifting her head, Mor stared at him in exasperation, contemplating whether or not she should throw him out the window, "I hate you. I really do."
"Seriously? We're back to the hating game? I've said I'm-" Riven rambled on, and Mor didn't bother to stifle the yawn that escaped her, "Oh, wow. Really? You're yawning as I try to explain myself?"
"No, no, please, keep talking." She waved for him to continue, "I only yawn when I'm super fascinated."
"Unbelievable." Riven muttered, shaking his head.
"You're unbelievable."
Before they could carry on with their bickering, Rosalind clinked her glass and effectively captured everyone's attention, "Please, be seated and enjoy the food!"
As the woman spoke, waiters filed out from behind some pillars, carrying silver plates of food - the kind of meal that was ridiculously small, ever so rich, and intricately designed.
Delicious, but a shit ton of effort for what it was, in Mor's opinion.
Chattering and the chinks of cutlery against plates filled the room as the alums all conversed with those seated around them. While she ate, Mor scanned the faces of all those attending, noting anyone she knew. There was one man in particular that piqued her interest: quite young, with the beginnings of a beard covering his chin, whom rarely ever took his eyes off of Bloom, nor her off of him.
So much so, even Rosalind picked up on it, "Do you know Sebastian?"
Taken by surprise at being caught, Bloom straightened, "I've seen him in town."
"Such a disappointment." The Headmistress sighed heavily, shaking her head ever so slightly, "Andreas tried to make a decent Specialist out of him, but..."
"Blood from a stone." Andreas concluded through a mouth full of food, and Mor didn't bother concealing her cringe.
Neither did Stella's uncle, it would seem, "Andreas! One of these days you must come to the Capitol and let Stella's old etiquette teacher give you a lesson. Cute little My Fair Lady moment. At least Sky was lucky enough to be raised by Saul, although, talk about the blind leading the blind."
"Uncle Arthur!" Stella chuckled nervously, subtly sending Sky an apologetic look.
"Oh, come on, now! You know it's true." The Royal Pain in the Arse slurred on, "I mean, no fault to you, but you and my niece had stayed together... scandal! Granted, you seem to have landed on your feet. Landed the fairy that transformed, or one of them at least. There's still time yet, though."
An incredulous laugh burst from Mor's lips as her head snapped in the man's direction, "Excuse me?!"
She was gripping her knife so hard, she thought it might snap, and her jaw was clenched so tightly, it was wonder her teeth didn't shatter.
The nerve of this man.
Silently, Riven placed a firm hand on top of Mor's, flattening her fist so that she dropped the knife. He curled his fingers around her own, then, squeezing them comfortingly, and as she glanced over to him, she could see just how pissed off he was as well.
Arthur's eyebrows skyrocketed, as if he was surprised she'd talk back to him, "Well, don't you have a short temper?"
"No, I just have a quick reaction to bullshit." Mor shot back, earning a proud snicker from Riven, a subtle smile from Stella, and a not-so subtle glare from Rosalind.
"Miss Chambers!" The Headmistress scolded sharply.
But Sky cut in, grinding out through gritted teeth, "I didn't land anything."
"Maybe some water?" Stella offered, gesturing for a waitress to hurry over.
"Oh, no, don't be that girl!" Arthur tsked condescendingly, and Mor's irritation grew tenfold. Riven gave her hand a firm squeeze, reminding her just where she was and that she definitely was not allowed to kill the man.
Luckily - or not so luckily, depending on the perspective - Rosalind's phone chimed, and the woman took it as a cue to start standing up, "If you'll excuse me a moment."
It took barely a minute before Bloom was up as well, placing a hand on Sky's shoulder as she strode after Rosalind and efficiently avoiding Mor's questioning glance.
Again.
This was beginning to become tiring.
"So..." Riven pursed his lips, and Mor dragged her attention away from Bloom to settle upon him, "how have your friends taken your sudden reappearance?"
She paused, glancing back over to where the redhead had walked off to, "They're... suspicious."
"I don't blame them."
Frowning, Mor turned back to him, but Riven simply shrugged.
"What? It's true, I don't blame them for being suspicious!" He reiterated, "Fuck it, I'm a bit suspicious. But you know what the truth is. You just have to be patient enough for them to see it as well."
She sighed. He was, after all, annoyingly right.
Mor did understand why her friends were being so hesitant to let her back in, and in truth, it was less the secrecy that bugged her, and more the stark absence of what it used to be like between them. The general ease they had with each other, despite only knowing one another for a term - that was what Mor missed.
The rest of the banquet passed relatively uneventfully, apart from Stella scolding her uncle for his behaviour and him retorting with something about a gem (details that Mor was intent to get later on), and Bloom still hadn't come back.
Gnawing on her bottom lip, Morrigan cast her gaze around the room, searching for a glimpse of the redhead.
There.
Right at the back, both Bloom and Stella were huddled together with Aisha and Flora, whom both looked startled and slightly out of breath. Mor's brow pinched as she peered closer, noticing how the four girls were all crowded around Aisha's phone.
"I'll be right back." She murmured to Riven, who followed her gaze and nodded in understanding.
Pushing to her feet, Mor weaved her way through the tables of alums, smiling at any who made eye contact, but mostly keeping her attention trained on her friends. As she got closer, it became clearer that they were discussing something important, and what ever the topic was, it was enough to cause a divide within the group.
"So if you're not going to do the right thing, I will." Stella declared with a frustrated huff, before spinning on her heel and marching towards the centre of the room, almost walking right into Mor as she did so.
Sidestepping to avoid a collision, Mor blew out a sharp breath and looked back to the others, "What crawled up her arse and died?"
Bloom opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it and instead strode after Stella, once again leaving Mor on the outside.
"What, am I invisible or something?" The Earth fairy joked, although there was only a small hint of humour to her tone.
Aisha simply offered an apologetic look, before ushering for her to follow after Bloom. For a moment, Mor just watched as her suitemates marched by her, somewhat astounded.
"Jesus takes a shit." She cursed under her breath, tilting her head to the ceiling in irritation and finally trailing after them.
Together, the girls watched as Stella stalked into the centre of the tables, glaring at anyone who dared to try and stop her, "Rosalind is not who she seems."
*****
"After torturing him in her lab, after stealing his magic," Stella explained with a solemn tone to her words, "Rosalind let that student die in her office. Devin deserved better. Solaria deserves better."
Morrigan sucked in a breath, eyes fluttering shut as the Light fairy landed the final blow. For the entirety of her explanation, Mor had been undergoing an internal battle on whether or not to step in and counteract with what Rosalind had told her.
But could she really trust the woman's word? The last thing Mor wanted to do was trust Rosalind, and it was so much easier to write everything she said off as a twisted way to mess with the girl's head, but... still, Mor couldn't lie that what the Headmistress had told her did seem to hold some weight. Furthermore, whilst it may be short-sighted, there was the nagging reality of if she did show her support for Rosalind, then her suitemates would never trust her again.
"I hate to break protocol." Out of nowhere, Rosalind emerged, and all eyes darted to her, "but there may be a few minor inconsistencies with her Highness' theories."
A unanimous gasp echoed throughout the room as nonother than Devin stepped out from behind a pillar, carrying a large book in his arms. Mor's eyes widened, and her mind spun as she absorbed the truth that had spilled before her very eyes.
Rosalind had been right. She never killed Devin.
Although, while he may still be breathing, there was still something broken inside of him. His eyes were so... vacant. Hollow.
While Rosalind went on to explain when Mor already knew, the girl instead kept all her attention on Devin.
Mor inhaled deeply, relishing in the rush of adrenaline that ignited in her veins as her magic reared up to her summons, eager to be released. Exhaling slowly, she allowed the tendrils of her power to drift towards Devin, delving into him, searching for his source of magic. But there was nothing. While his life source still beat, the fibres of his power were dormant and dull. A chill skittered through her spine, and Mor retracted her magic from him, dragging with her a feeling of emptiness that was reluctant to shake.
"I realised that's what had happened to those poor fairies," Rosalind turned to where some of the Solarian guards had carried in a large box, covered in a dark cloth.
Reaching for the fabric, she yanked it off, revealing a window and a strange creatures swirling around in the smoke. It screeched, slamming against the glass and eliciting a shocked gasp from the crowd. This captured Mor's attention, and she peered closer at the scraper, a sense of foreboding slithering through her and causing goosebumps to pebble her skin.
Without her even calling for it, Mor felt her magic build inside of her, preparing itself for an attack. Her fingertips tingled, and all around the room, the trees seemed to murmur warnings in her ear.
"I've been studying a scraper here at the school since we captured it. But it wasn't until Devin was found, that I got the answers I needed." Rosalind explained, glancing at the boy in question, "I was able to bring him back from near death, all thanks to Benjamin Harvey's daughter, who discovered an amalgam that was able to revive all three fairies. I probed their minds, and the picture became clear. The scrapers were being called upon by a Blood Witch. Our old foes have discovered how to steal our magic. If Blood Witches continue using scrapers, fairy magic, and therefore fairies, will cease to exist."
The scraper in the box shrieked, and Mor clenched her fists in her efforts to reign in her magic. It was almost as if her power was... scared at the prospect of being stolen. It was mounting defences within itself, sharpening her senses automatically, settling at her fingertips in anticipation for use.
The sensation was both comforting and terrifying all at once.
"Clearly, despite my efforts to keep my investigation secret," Rosalind mused, levelling her stern gaze upon Mor and her friends, "some of you sensed danger and took action. Your courage will be needed in the coming days as we face our real enemy. Thank you for joining us here, but students, for now, you are dismissed."
Swallowing hard, Mor's eyes connected with Riven's, whom looked just as confused as she felt. A hand on her shoulder snatched her attention towards Flora, who offered a small smile and a nod for her to leave with the rest of the girls. Wetting her lips, Morrigan gathered herself together, still reeling for the feeling of her magic gathering strength within her, and returned the gesture, somewhat thankful to be getting away from the scraper.
"Except for you, Bloom, Morrigan."
Fucking typical.
Pursing her lips, Mor exchanged a look with the redhead and paused in her tracks. Riven caught her gaze again, mouthing a question, but her mind was already reeling too much with possibilities to decipher what he had meant. Besides, Sky was ushering him out the door before she could try again, anyways.
Instead, Rosalind gestured for Mor and Bloom to join her up by the table, and began explaining their plan of action, before concluding with a definite: "We will find the Blood Witches who did this and eliminate them."
"What resources do you need?" The Field Marshal questioned, expression stern and serious - as were all of the faces in the room.
"For the moment, I have everything I need right here at the school." Rosalind wandered in front of the two students, effectively directing the alums' attention towards them as well, "I wanted you to meet these girls for a reason. Not only is she a powerful young fairy, but inside of her burns the magic of legend."
Mor's interest piqued significantly, and she found herself swivelling her head round to face Bloom too, glancing curiously between her and the Headmistress, although Bloom looked equally as lost. She always knew that the redhead contained a powerful source of magic within her - why else would Rosalind pay any attention to her? But just how powerful was she?
"The Dragon Flame." Rosalind announced, and Mor's eyes widened to the size of saucers.
The Dragon Flame was an ancient magic, said to have been granted by the Great Dragon of Domino. Every child of the Otherworld knew the story: the royal bloodline of Domino were the Guardians of the Dragon Flame, but when the Domino kingdom fell, everyone thought the power was lost forever.
But if Bloom contained the Dragon Flame, then....
Surely not.
Was Bloom the lost heir to Domino?
"But that's not all." Rosalind added on, but her voice was distant beyond the thoughts whizzing around Mor's mind, "I have another young fairy standing by my side. Morrigan Chambers had been on my radar for a while, but it was only when I started to work with her that I learnt of her extraordinary gift."
Work with - Mor almost snorted.
Rosalind glided towards her, an arm poised around her shoulders (still not quite touching), as if she was showing off her prized possession to potential buyers, "A power locked so deep inside of her blood, we all thought it was extinct - merely a myth to keep children entertained." As the attention of the room pivoted to her, Mor shifted uncomfortably, suddenly overcome with an intense sense of insecurity, "The power of life and death itself. The Vitae Mortem. The very magic that created the Otherworld to begin with."
Boom.
Bombshell dropped.
*****
The fresh air swarmed Mor's lungs as she burst through the doors, and she could almost feel it refreshing the staleness left behind in the wake of the anxiety that had consumed her during that whole banquet.
As soon as Rosalind had dropped the weight of 'Vitae Mortem' upon Morrigan's shoulders, the girl had made her escape as swiftly as possible, desperate to avoid the awe-filled gawks of the alums and the interrogations that were sure to follow. Even though Rosalind had already revealed the information to her before, there hadn't been nearly enough time for it to properly sink in, let alone for her to be able to answer questions about it.
Mor barely understood it herself.
The power of life and death...
It was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
No one should contain that much power, it simply wasn't natural. And what would it mean for her, now that every vitally important person in the Otherworld knew just what she possessed?
An ache pounded in the centre of her forehead from the whirlwind of thoughts flying around her mind, and Mor screwed her eyes shut, running her hands through her hair frantically.
"You took your time." A voice remarked from her left, and she didn't even need to turn to know just who was leaning against the pillar, cigarette pinched in his fingers and smoke curling around his face.
Mor kept walking, rolling her eyes, "I didn't ask you to wait."
The crunch of gravel underfoot was all the confirmation she needed that he was, indeed, following her, "No, you didn't. But I did, out of the kindness of my heart, Princess."
It was then that Mor finally deigned to glare at him, "What heart?"
"Ouch," Riven clutched a hand to his chest, but his smirk was ever-present, "low blow."
Scoffing, Mor just shook her head and allowed her feet to carry her towards the woods, the shadows offering shelter and the trees beckoning her closer.
"Where are you going?"
"Away." Mor muttered, and she was surprised that he had even heard her. But still, a soft chuckle drifted up from behind her, before Riven quickly matched his stride to hers, and they were walking side by side.
She had no real direction in mind, but all around them, the trees whispered words of comfort in her ears and the breeze caressed her skin, as if she were an old friend and she was finally coming home. Lifting her head to the canopy, Mor watched as the dappled sunlight twinkled through the leaves and danced amid the boughs and strong risen roots, illuminating the celebrations of browns and greens. As she breathed in deeply, she could feel her magic weave itself into the nature surrounding her, connecting her with every life that populated this woodland.
"Are you following me?" Mor hummed in question, glancing to the boy beside her,
He nodded shamelessly, "Yes."
"Why?"
"I want to."
Mor huffed, totally lacking the strength and the willpower to argue with him.
A few moments later, however, a hissed curse escaped Riven, and Mor glanced over to her left to see him stumble over a protruding root and struggle to regain his balance. Despite herself, the scene elicited one of the very few genuine smiles she owned nowadays.
Not bothering to wait for him, she strolled onwards, allowing the lull of the woods to navigate her footsteps. She vaguely recalled the brushing sensation of passing through the barrier, but she paid little heed to it.
Eventually, they ended up by a familiar rock blanketed in moss, and the memories of her initial encounters with the cocky brunette resurfaced in her mind.
"I remember this place." Riven grinned, perching atop the stone, "You were reading porn."
Mor huffed an exasperated chuckle, shaking her head in gentle amusement and sitting down next to him, "I knew you were going to bring that up."
"You know me so well." Riven quipped softly, offering her a flask of something.
His words struck a cord inside of her that didn't quiet sit right. Being here, in this place, with him... it reminded Mor of how everything used to be, before Rosalind, before the bloody Vitae Mortem, before it all got complicated.
Choosing not to respond to that, Mor just took the flask and swallowed down a swig of it, wincing at the strength of it, before handing it back.
A silence proceeded to hang between the pair of them, then, and Mor found herself immersed in the sensation of growing and shrinking the nettle plant at the bottom of the rock. Dangling her legs over the edge of it, Mor watched in transfixion as she controlled the direction of the nettle's growth with a simple swirl of her fingers. Carefully, she allowed her magic to flow more freely, and manipulated the nettle to curl around the exposed skin of her leg. The pain from the stings were manageable, almost therapeutic, even - reminding her that she was still human.
Once the plant reached her thigh, Mor slowly furled her fingers into a fist, watching in morbid satisfaction as the nettle withered and shrivelled as a result, its life gradually draining from its leave and seeping into Mor instead. As the nettle's strength was absorbed by her magic, the red stings that blemished her skin soothed and paled, until there was nothing to even hint that there was any injury there in the first place.
The entire time, Riven watched in silence.
Clearing her throat, Mor released her magic and turned her head to the brunette, "Do you remember when Rowan and I had that big argument, back before the fight with the Burned Ones?"
Seemingly grateful for the change in topic, Riven hesitated a moment, racking him memory, "Uh, yeah. He said that you tried to kill him, right? But everyone just thought he was being overdramatic-"
"He wasn't." She cut in, barely a whisper.
Riven's brow furrowed, "What?"
"He wasn't being overdramatic. He twisted the truth, definitely, but he wasn't exactly lying." Mor drew in a shaky breath and brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them close, "When I was five, Rowan and I were playing around with some toys. I can't really remember what started it, but we ended up fighting. I think he'd stolen one of my toys and wouldn't give it back, or something like that. I ended up biting him, and he started to pull my hair. I got pissed."
The memory swarmed her vision, and the familiar feeling of guilt gnawed away at her. Next to her, Riven stayed quiet, allowing her time to gather her thoughts and take it step by step.
"I remember getting so angry, I didn't know what to do with myself. I just wanted Rowan to stop." Mor swallowed the lump that was rapidly forming in her throat, forcing her voice to remain steady, "It was only when my dad came running in, shouting at me and practically throwing me off of my brother, that I realised that I had been channelling my magic into him. But... it wasn't normal channelling. I-I was draining him. I remember seeing him writhe around on the floor, screaming, and I remember feeling his life in-in my fingertips-"
Cutting off to regain control over her emotions, Mor dropped her gaze to her hands, only to find them trembling. She wasn't entirely sure why she was telling him this, especially after what happened last time. But there was something inside of her that urged the truth from her lips now that she was in his company.
Wetting her lips, Mor willed herself to continue, "I remember the feeling of his life being absorbed by my magic. My own fucking brother, and I was slowly killing him. But what scared - scares - me the most, is the fact that I struggled so hard to stop. It felt like hours before I was able to reign it back in and release him."
"Fucking Christ..." Riven breathed, running a hand through his hair as he let the information settle within him.
"Yep. My dad never really explained why it all happened, except that I'd lost control. Luckily, Rowan understood that it had been out of my control, but it's safe to say that he never pulled my hair again. After that, we all agreed to never mention it again, but I guess all secrets end up coming to the surface at some point." She murmured, eyes dropping to the shrivelled stem of the nettle.
"Princess, I-"
"The power of life and death, Riven," A bitter laugh erupted from her lips as the reality of the situation suddenly came crashing down, "in the hands of the girl who nearly killed her own brother. Fucking fantastic. We might as well go to hell in a bloody hand basket!"
He pulled a face, "No, don't say that-"
"Why the fuck not?!" The wind picked up around them, and frustrated tears welled up in Mor's eyes, "I can't do this, Riven. I didn't sign up for this."
Riven was having none of it, cupping his hands to either side of her face and forcing her to look him in the eyes, "Hey, no one signs up for this shit, ok? It's not fair, I understand that, and you don't deserve this is any way, but what use is complaining about it going to be? These are the cards you've been dealt, and you can do fuck all to change that, Princess. All you can do is play your hand and see what life throws back at you."
It was like his words flicked a switch inside her brain, sifting through her panicked thoughts from her logical ones and allowing her to think clearly. Taking a deep breath, Mor nodded wordlessly, eyes fluttering closed as she leant her forehead against his own.
They stayed there, in that position, for a while, just appreciating each other's company after the tornado of events that had been thrust upon them these past few weeks.
"I really am sorry, Morrigan." Riven whispered eventually, "You have no idea how much it eats me up inside. I... I did this to you. It's my fault you ended up in that cell." His voice broke slightly, and she pulled back to see tears clouding his vision, "I'm sorry for belittling you and treating you like shit. I'm sorry for being a coward. I'm sorry for everything. I'm so sorry, Princess. Please... forgive me."
For a moment, Mor was so close to giving in. She was so close to saying yes. She was so close to allowing his past words, and all the pain that accompanied them, go.
But then...
Who? Oh, her. Nah, she's a total nutter with no control over her magic at all, or herself, it would seem. Throwing herself at me, she was, like some desperate whore.
Those words resonated in her head, taunting her, slicing open any attempt of healing the wounds they'd inflicted. Any part of her that wanted to forgive and forget was swiftly squashed by the emotionless mask that slipped over her vulnerabilities.
Unable to bring herself to look him in the eye, Morrigan retreated from Riven's touch and pushed to her feet.
"Not yet."
Oooooo 👀👀
Don't worry, she does eventually forgive him - in the next chapter, perhaps?
Hope you all enjoyed :)