A/N -- So, I did a couple of things for this chapter! FIRST, ANOTHER GREAT SONG. Real good for reading to. Second, I really wanted you guys to see how big Hench really is. So... I did a VERY QUICK sketch thing of her next to Iris for scale:
Next, I did an actual painting of Hench (because she's so freakin' fun to paint). It's so not the most tasteful thing I've ever drawn... and if Hench were real, she'd kill me five times over for painting her this way. But whatever XD. Here she is:
Without further ado, the chapter! Hope you enjoy!
Hench took a big breath and scratched the back of her head. "Well, I um..." She shook her head and blew out a big breath. "I... assumed it was... I was too..." Rhalla tasted the next word on her tongue, "...different. I guess." She met her mother's eyes. By now, she had no tears left to cry. Her lip still barely quivered, but she reigned it in and went on. "I'm terrible at reunions. I... I'm sorry."
Irila's voice was small. "Is it alright to hug you?"
Maybe she had one tear left. Or two. Damn it. Hench opened her arms a little wider in welcome, and her voice betrayed her when she said, "Of course."
Irila took that offer and ran with it. Quite literally, in fact. She all but jumped into her daughter's embrace. Hench wrapped her large arms around her mother as soon as she could reach her and held on tight. Irila said nothing immediately, just openly wept into the embrace. Rhalla shut her eyes and rested her head down against Irila's, feeling the jolts of her mother's body with each shallow breath.
"What... is going on?" Elliot's voice broke through the tender moment.
Irila pulled away from Rhalla and reached up with trembling hands to cup her cheeks. Hench smiled tentatively down at her mother, of which Irila returned tenfold. The moment felt so terribly surreal that Irila removed one of her hands from her daughter's face and pinched her other arm. Rhalla's eyes flicked over, puzzled. "You pinched yourself," the mighty woman said in a low voice.
"I've dreamed this many times," Irila softly admitted. "It is you, isn't it? I'm not seeing things, am I?"
"This isn't a dream of yours," Rhalla whispered. "And it's me."
"Irila," Elliot drew his wife's attention backwards. "Who is this?"
She whirled around. "Oh, Elliot," she laughed softly. "Did you not hear my words?"
"No, I heard," he replied. "All of it. I just... I think I may have misunderstood. Somehow. You made it sound like this was... someone it couldn't possibly be."
Hench took a step in front of Irila, who let her by. Wordlessly, the mighty woman swooped down to the ground for a few moments. And then, she came up with a closed palm. There wasn't a way she was going to be able to just come out and say it... so she'd let this speak for her.
Rhalla walked toward Elliot. It was a hesitant few steps. She held her catch gently in her hand, taking great care not to crush it or hurt it. Elliot watched her until she stopped just short of him. Her eyes found where his hands hung at his sides, and then they moved right back up to his face. Something about the way she looked at him was expectant. Suddenly, he was thrown into a memory -no, a hundred memories. Each one was the same... his little Cricket squatting in the yard, looking over the grounds with sharp scrutiny. After a little time, she'd come running up to him, hand out in front of her just like that. She would stare at him just like that until he said--.
"What have you got for me there, then?" he asked Hench in a broken voice.
Just as those hundred times before, he got the same answer. Without a word, she took his hand and placed a cricket right in the middle of it. He stared in disbelief for what felt like minutes instead of seconds. The cricket jumped out of his palm and back out into the night, jarring him back to the situation. He looked back up to Hench.
He didn't fully believe it. At least, not until she smiled -really smiled. She couldn't help herself. Her eyes barely crinkled at the corners, and her wide grin was held up with very slight indentations at the corners. He hadn't seen that smile in twenty years. His heart rammed against his sternum. His breath got all caught up in his chest. No.
When he only stared in surprise, her grin quickly dropped into a face that looked terribly nervous.
His hand finally moved from where it lingered. Just as her mother had done, he rested it against her cheek. Finally, Elliot returned her smile. Try as he might, though, that was all he could do. He couldn't speak aloud. There was so much he wanted to say to her. A thousand sentences whirled in his mind, each attesting to how much he'd missed her or how much he loved her. None were enough. His little girl. Oh gods, this was his little girl. He could only mouth, "Rhalla."
Her smile returned. This time it was a small one -a tender one. She lightly rested her head against his calloused palm and shut her eyes. One of her tears ran down over his fingers.
He wiped the rest of the water track away with a thumb. After a second, she pulled her head back up and stared at him with eyes that matched his own. There wasn't a messy jumble of words like she'd shared with Irila. There was only understanding -understanding and undiluted joy. He took her into an embrace just as her mother had.
Rhalla felt as her mother joined in on the other side. She dared to open one eye to find Iris, Kayde, and Dane beaming and Azabela absolutely losing her shit beside them. Her war paint was smudged from her cries, and she was snottier than Hench had ever seen her. Her little body was shaking from happiness for her beloved. She looked beyond that a ways to see that Dyran and the girls had stopped to watch, too.
"Come on, girl," she finally mouthed to Iris.
Her sister seemed to understand her cue well enough. She walked in and affixed herself to the cumulative hug as the final puzzle piece. For that moment, the world was good. The Gwenneth family was complete.
Dane just wrapped one arm around Azabela's shoulders and pulled her close to him in a vain effort to settle her.
After the initial shock had worn off and everyone's hearts more or less settled in their chests, the hug unwrapped. Elliot grabbed both of Hench's shoulders and looked right into her face.
"It's you," he finally said. "It's you."
Hench gave a husky laugh, masking her emotions as well as she could. "Mhm," her chest rumbled and she looked to both her mother and father. "I could say the same for you. I... didn't imagine I'd ever see you again. Either of you... ever again."
"It's been twenty years," Elliot spluttered. "Where were you?"
Rhalla grimaced. "Lots of places. I've told you some, if you remember."
Realization clicked. In the haze of his daughter's return, he'd forgotten what she'd told him earlier -what Dane had told them earlier. Human trafficking. He felt blooms of anger and sorrow whirl and blossom in his chest. His baby girl, nabbed from the woods and then... Rhalla drew him from that thought with a shake to his shoulders. He found his hands were already trembling with rage. His rough cheeks were red.
"Hey. I'm fine," she reminded him. "It's better that you don't think about it."
He coughed in disbelief. "Better that I forget?" He shook his head and cast his eyes down. "This fury... I will never forget it."
"The baron will reap what he has sown soon enough. And then... it will be over." Rhalla tried to console him.
"Even so, I will still be angry," he whispered. "I'll always be angry with me." Elliot met her gaze with newly tear-stricken eyes. "How could I ever let that happen to you? I am your father. I was... I was supposed to protect you. I failed you."
Rhalla shook her head. "I won't hear that now. The benevolent should not shoulder the guilt that belongs to the wicked. They don't deserve it." A tiny smile wisped to life on her face. "It's hard to think it, but the way things happened... they were meant to happen exactly the way that they did."
Elliot took a breath. Meanwhile, Irila found her voice again. "Do you believe that?"
Hench nodded. "Firmly." A moment of quiet passed. "But we should keep going. They'll come looking for us all soon."
Elliot and Irila both looked like they had a hundred or more things left to say, but they both nodded. Hench looked at both Azabela and Dane. "How are you holding up over there, son? Everything still okay? Are you still okay?"
"I'm fine, mom," he replied. "Just tired."
"You're a mother," Irila breathed, catching her daughter's attention again. "I... It just hit me. You're a mother."
Hench watched as both her parents gaped at her. She ducked her chin into a nod and pulled her father's arm back over her shoulder to continue the journey. "Indeed."
Irila whirled to Dane. "You... you're my grandson." She blanched. "I'm a grandmother."
"You hardly look it," he chuckled. "If that's any consolation."
Their conversation stopped there. Something of a commotion came from the direction of the keep. There was shouting and the obvious sound of a barking dog. Hench assumed it was one of the few bloodhounds left after Azabela's reaping a night prior. Everyone whirled around to face the source of the noise. It was closer than comfortable.
"We have to go," the mighty woman found herself repeating. "Now. Run."
Dyran and Kayde scooped up the little girls into their arms and took off towards the camp. Iris and Irila whirled to look at Elliot, who could barely walk, even with Hench's support. Elliot yanked his arm from his daughter's shoulders. He knew he'd be a hindrance. "Go."
"No," she said quickly. "Sorry," was all the warning he got before she took his wrist in her hand and his leg in the other. Coming up from her dip, she threw his body over one of her shoulders. She gave a pointed look to the others and snapped. "Go!"
Hench took off as fast as she could with her father. She thanked her fucking stars he'd become lanky over the years rather than brawny. Still, she was a little slower than the others due to the offset of her balance. Rhalla was a very good runner. Her thighs were packed with muscle and her stride was tremendously long. Any other day, she would have blasted past all of them... but now, she just was able to keep up with the group. Barely.
Adrenaline pounded through all of them. Even still, no one was left behind.
Camp wasn't far at all. Despite having to track a path through the woods to keep out of sight, they came running up twenty minutes later. When the soldiers and guardians were in view, Rhalla blew out a breath. She doubted that they'd follow them this far, but she wouldn't put her father down until she knew they were safe.
Upon arrival, they were received by none other than Brawler at the entrance. He let Master Dyran and Kayde by without question, as they were rushing two little girls to safety. The rest just stopped as soon as they saw him. Azabela near skidded to a halt. Irila doubled over, struggling to catch her breath.
Brawler looked over the entourage, his eyes stopping at the blood-covered Dane. "Shit, are you alright, kid? You're bleedin' like mad."
"None," Dane gasped a breath. "None of it is mine."
Brawler looked impressed "Ye are yer mother's son, then, no doubt." He finally looked up at Rhalla, who still carried her father over her shoulder. As soon as their eyes met, she carefully set him down on the forest floor. Elliot immediately knelt on both knees, looking disoriented for a long moment.
"Showin' off, lass?" Brawler teased.
"Come off it," Hench huffed a labored breath and gave him a light-hearted shove and cracked her neck twice. "He can't walk well. I improvised."
Brawler chuckled. "Good to see ye got yer lad back." He met Irila's and Elliot's eyes. "An' who are these people?"
Elliot disrupted the conversation. With a small groan, he grabbed Rhalla's arm and pulled himself to his feet. Brawler watched as he stood up. Elliot was nearly as tall as his daughter. The bald man raised a brow as he got a good look at the older gentleman's face. "Well?"
"I suppose I'll answer," Elliot said. "I'm Elliot Gwenneth."
"Aw, hell," came Brawler's less than eloquent response. "This is Papa Hench?"
Elliot raised a brow. "Papa Hench?"
Rhalla made a weird clucking noise from her throat. "Do not call him that," she quickly said. "But your guess is correct. This... is my father. My parents, actually." The last words were quiet.
Brawler took a side-step after looking over Irila and Elliot. There was a twinkle to his eye. "Then ye know where yer tent is. Go catch up while ye got some time to. I'll leave ye be."
Hench nodded.
"I concur," Azabela said softly, her voice still strangled. "I'll catch up after a while. I'll help get Dane cleaned up." At the mention of his name, Dane nodded in agreement.
"I will leave you to it as well," Iris said after a second, despite how much she ached to see both of her parents again. She realized, though, that Hench had gone so much longer without seeing either of them. Iris couldn't even imagine what it must be like.
Rhalla turned to her sister and shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous, girl. You'll come with me too. They..." she trailed off for only a moment and looked over her mother, father, and sister. "All three of you... I imagine you're far closer of a family than... Well, I've been gone for twenty years." Those last words were washed in what Iris swore was regret before Hench whisked around. With an eye over her shoulder, she quietly added. "Come to my tent when you're ready. You know where it is, Iris."
They all watched her leave after that. By that time, Iris stood alone with both her parents. Everyone left the family be.
Finally, Iris faced them. She couldn't help it -she embraced them both again.
"It's... this is amazing," she said. "To see you both again. I can hardly believe any of this is real."
"Me neither," Elliot said and took hold of both of their hands. "I missed you, kid. And..." he looked to his wife, and suddenly was lost for words. "...you. I've said it a million times this week. I... living without you was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. If I'd known..."
Irila smiled a soft smile. "Shh. You didn't know."
"If we'd known," Iris added. "Mom, I would have torn this world apart for you."
"By the look of your armor, I imagine you might've torn it apart anyway." Irila, for the first time in a while, grinned without reserve. It was rather infectious. It lasted all of five seconds before she subdued it and looked to the direction Hench had gone. Her eyes flitted back to Iris and all she could say was, "Rhalla."
Iris offered a tender smile. "Rhalla."
Tears came again.
Elliot looked to Iris. "You... found her. You found your sister. How?"
"It was a coincidence. I joined the Remorda Guardians. She... was my mentor first, my friend second," Iris whispered. "And then... and then Zayn found out about Cricket. I went crazy wondering where she'd gone... I," Iris paused. "For a while, I thought she'd died. I had no idea she was watching over me. And I... I found a sister in Rhalla before I ever knew what blood ran in her veins."
"What... what's she like?" he asked. "Now?"
"Brilliant," Iris answered. "It's... it's such a privilege to even know her. Dad, I love her so much." Iris wiped her eye. "She's... Rhalla Gwenneth is the strongest woman in the world. She told me her story... taken from home when I was a baby. She told me how they abducted her in the woods... hurt her..." Iris spat those words, "...sold her. She got pregnant for the very first time when she was twelve. And... they would've gotten rid of her child. But she escaped." Iris took a breath. "She lived in the woods for a few months. She told me she went savage for a while. She was thirteen the day she labored... that was the day she was found by Azabela Stryder and her grandmother, Sorella."
Iris glanced at her parents to gauge their reaction. They were only listening with glistening eyes.
"Sorella was a medic that mended Cricket, but I believe Azabela was the one truly healed her... Rhalla says often that Azabela repaired her down to her soul. They bonded over her newborn son, Dane -who she learned to love so quickly, despite the circumstances of his birth. During that, Azabela and Rhalla fell in love. They've been in love since they were so young. Azabela's grandmother saw that, and then... Rhalla was kicked out of the home that healed her. She came to the guardians last. She's been training all her life with the hope that she'll leave this world better than she found it. I said it already, but I love her so much." Iris smiled. She turned and pointed. "You should go talk to her for a little bit. She's in that big tent over there. I'll join up in a bit."
They both nodded. Then, they shared a long look -their eyes full of an emotion that Iris couldn't quite place. Was it wonder? Irila grabbed Elliot's hand and squeezed it. Together they walked, Elliot doing his best to stand tall. Iris watched as they walked together toward Rhalla's tent -to the daughter they'd lost nearly twenty one years prior.
When they reached it, they both took a long breath. Gingerly, Irila pushed the tent flap aside.
They stepped in. Immediately, they noticed this wasn't a tent for sleeping. This was a war tent here for planning. Rhalla stood with her back to them, focused on something on the table in front of her. With the bright lantern-light of the tent, they could see that there were a few seats lined up against the tent's edges. Elliot didn't take one. At least, not yet.
Rhalla had heard them come in. She'd had a little time to prepare herself by now. Both Elliot and Irila watched her take one last steadying breath before turning to them.
Immediately, Rhalla's eyes fell to her father's wrapped knee. "Have a seat before you hurt yourself now. We'll need to get you a walking stick."
Elliot grunted in disapproval. "This seems like an occasion where I should stand tall. At least once."
Hench clucked her tongue in disapproval, but said nothing yet. She understood pride well. He didn't want to be seen as the old man with the bad knee. He wanted her to see him as she had all those years ago. Instead of reprimanding him, she pulled out a chair for herself and plopped down into it. With a smile and a raised brow, she said, "Suit yourself. World's just as nice down here, though."
There was something in Elliot's eyes -something that recognized the small thing she'd just done for him. She'd given him a way to be comfortable and conserve his dignity at the same time. He didn't like to be pitied. He'd been a proud soldier once. Her having to haul him back had been embarrassment enough. How had she done that? Irila pulled out two chairs for them and sat herself. Elliot Gwenneth had a seat without shame.
There was a twinkle in the mighty woman's eye. "I hope one of you knows how to start this, because I surely don't."
"You're... not dead," Elliot none-too-gracefully started.
Hench raised an eyebrow. "Back at you. It wasn't long ago when I was speaking to your grave. Both of your graves, actually."
"My grave? You were at my..." Elliot took a swallow, taking in the fact that he had a stone marking his death. The idea of that... was macabre, to say the least. "You spoke to my grave?"
"If we're being technical, I was speaking to you. But yes. I did. It wasn't for but a minute, though. Turns out that you were hardly a conversationalist." There was a humorous glint in her eyes, even after she subdued her smile and amended, "Sorry. That wasn't funny."
"Does that mean..." Irila's soft voice sounded, "...were you at home?"
"It does mean that."
Elliot spoke next. "What did you say?" His voice was low. "When you spoke to my grave? -our graves?"
"I..." Hench clasped her hands together, and her gaze strayed to the ground. "A lot of things. I think the biggest was that..." Her voice dropped an octave, suddenly very emotive. "...was that I was so sorry. So terribly sorry."
"Why?" Irila whispered. "Why would you ever have to be sorry?"
Rhalla met their eyes. "Because I am nearly thirty years old. I escaped the baron's estate almost seventeen years ago. I had the opportunity to come home so many years ago." Her voice broke. "And I never did. I knew where it was, and I stayed away. You were left to suffer and... and no phrase can ever tell you how much I regret never coming back -how much I will always regret... what I never did."
"Why?" Irila asked, her eyes watering. "Why did you not want to... come back?"
"I was terrified," Hench admitted. "And if I'm being honest, I still am."
"Why?" Elliot asked.
"Because how was I supposed to tell you..." Rhalla said. "How was I supposed to tell you what happened to me? I was never ready to discuss that horror. I couldn't hear myself speak the words without drowning myself. But at the same time, how was I supposed to not tell you? My child... he surely came from somewhere. You would have known it. How was I supposed to face my parents when I had a baby at thirteen years old? If I'd told you the truth of his heritage, I couldn't have borne the way it would hurt you to know what I had endured. But neither could I bear the look of disappointment... if you ever thought, for even one second, that I was some kind of... some kind of whore." The last words jumbled out. "And I could never in my life give up my son. Not now. Not then -not after we bonded. He was such a tiny thing, then. My precious, little child. Even being the young girl that I was, he was so very small in my arms. So helpless."
Irila stood from her chair and dared a few steps toward her eldest daughter. "I would have never thought less of you..." she amended those words. "I don't think less of you. In fact, I think you're incredibly brave for what you did. You're perhaps the bravest woman I know. I couldn't have ever done it."
Rhalla smiled for a second, but then it fell. "But then there was also always the matter of... of Azabela."
"Iris told us a little about her. By the sound of things," Irila knelt and took Hench's hand in hers. "We owe this Azabela Stryder a debt I fear I'll never be able to repay, not even if I had a thousand years to spare." She took Hench's other hand. "But I'll do my best to. I promise you that."
Hench smiled a tender smile and lightly squeezed her mother's hand. "You mean that?"
"Never in my life have I made a promise I didn't intend to keep," Irila said.
Rhalla looked to Elliot, who let out a low chuckle. "I'm sorry," he quelled the sound at her gaze. His eyes held depth as he said, "I just... for years, it seemed impossible. The idea... of seeing you again. I dreamt many nights of the price. I dreamt I stood upon the highest mountain and screamed to the entire world -convinced every person there was to search for you... I dreamt I raised an army that fought until there were no evil men left. It gave you the path you needed to come back to me. I dreamt I traveled every space of the world until I found the space you occupied." He paused. "There was once I dreamt I knelt over your body. I had found you, but it was too late. The light in your eyes had gone out, and you were still and cold. Your face was contorted... like you'd been screaming during the very last breath you took. In the dream, I prayed for the ability to wake the dead upon seeing you -even if it took my own beating heart to do it. The price. A life for a life. And I would have given it. In the dream. In reality." He took a breath. "All I ever wanted then was to know the price of your return. Anything at all, I wouldn't have hesitated. I would have paid it. It's so... strange to finally know the price. But it's stranger to know that the price is as small as loving two more people. It's hardly even considered a price." He nodded. "And yet, still... I will not hesitate. I will pay it, and then tenfold. I will love your Azabela and your Dane..." he stumbled out of his chair and fell beside Irila on his knees. His voice shook as he said. "And if lack of acceptance is what you fear most... Rhalla, I accept you, now and always, for who you are. For who you become. I love you, and nothing else matters. Okay?"
Rhalla nodded and whispered. "Okay."
Her tear fell onto her mother's hand. To this day, she'd only dreamed of those words from her father and mother.
"Now, kid, don't you cry now." Elliot wiped the drops from her cheeks. "This is a happy moment."
"I promise I'm not always like this," Hench said, and steadied herself. "It takes a lot to make me cry."
"With a nickname like Hench, I imagine it does." He smiled a gentle smile. "I can't wait to hear where you got that from."
"It's not much of a story," Rhalla chuckled, and looked down at herself to find that her armor did well to mask the curves of most of her rolling muscles. "I'm decently strong, I guess. And very tall -I got that from you." She decided to not mention the very dedicated way she'd built up her body. She especially left out the other small details that made her name -the marks that covered her arms, the less-than-picturesque words on her knuckles, or her profound affinity for drinking. She was sure they'd find out eventually that she was hardly ladylike in most regards... but there was no need in them seeing it all of it now. Baby steps. Baby steps.
"You did, indeed, get my height," Elliot couldn't help but laugh. "You sure did." He rose from his knees and helped his wife up as well. They both had a seat again.
Rhalla finally noticed Iris's absence. "So... where is my sister?"
"She said she'd be a minute," Elliot chuckled. "She's often running off."
"I swear to every god there is," Rhalla blew out a sigh. "That girl is gonna kill me one day. I told her to come with you."
Elliot let out a loud laugh. "Be glad it's not for months at a time. When she ran off to war without telling anyone... it about put me in an early grave."
"Ran off to war?" Irila choked. "What do you mean ran off to war? I thought she was a Remorda Guardian."
Rhalla gave her mother a shit-eating grin. "You have a lot to catch up on. But I'll let her tell it. I can only tell you that she's a nightmare to be responsible for."
"That's such a load of! ... you know what," Iris strolled from right outside. Of course, she'd been listening in. She walked up to Rhalla and flopped down on her sister's knee and threw an arm around Rhalla's shoulders. With a sort of devilish grin that was strictly custom to Iris, she got comfortable.
"There's another chair," Rhalla drew the words out for effect and rolled her eyes.
"Mhm," Iris said, but didn't move. "This suits me just fine."
Rhalla raised a brow. If she wanted to protest further, she didn't have time to before her mother disrupted the exchange.
"It's good to see you're close," she said with a grin. "I don't imagine I've ever been happier in my entire life."
Rhalla let Iris stay at those words, albeit begrudgingly. She simply said to her sister, "I suppose you win this time." With that, she gave a husky laugh and hugged Iris back with an arm.
"So," Irila said, still beaming. "We've heard some of Rhalla's story just now. I hope to hear the specifics of some of it later, when there's time."
"It's a big story," Iris conceded. "Might take a while."
"It is. But I imagine she's not the only one with a big story," Irila said. Her eyes fell to her youngest. "Now, I want to hear yours."