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Gloves drenched in red

Summary:

Leslie de Sardet gets home, her hands and her blade wet with blood. She tells the story to those she shares her home with.

Notes:

The line break represents a flashback, a tense switch, and a POV switch all at the same time.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

"Minundhanem, are you okay?" Síora asks, regarding her girlfriend's hands with concern. Sullivan de Sardet stares at his twin sister, his face a picture of horror. Leslie de Sardet chuckles wryly, peeling off her gloves.

 

"It's not my blood, Síora."

 

"That doesn't make it better!!!" Aphra shouts from where she's hunched over the de Sardet's work bench. Kurt looks up from whatever he's doing, flatly asking, "Greenblood, who did you kill?"

 

She laughs darkly, darting around to obtain supplies for washing the gloves. She also pulls out her blade to clean it as well. She shouts, "Gather 'round and I shall tell ye a tale of attacks and lies!" Her girlfriend, brother, and other friends paused what they were doing to listen to her story.

 

"My story started in the palace..."

 


 

I was just finishing up a meeting with my darling cousin. He was lonely, so he just wanted somebody to talk to. But I had things to do, so I excused myself.

 

In the hallway, I saw a particularly shady-looking guy. So, I obviously asked him what he was doing here.

 

"I'm a legate of the Congregation, young lady," he told me, "You had best step aside so I don't keep the governor waiting."

 

I started laughing, my entire body shaking with how absurd his claim was.

 

"I think you should rethink your story, asshole-" I told him, jabbing my finger into his chest- "because I'm a legate of a Congregation. And you are not a legate. There are two. One is me, and the other is my twin brother back at our shared home."

 

He gaped, his face the color of an overripe apple. A series of men appeared out of nowhere, blades drawn. I narrowed my eyes, my fingers curling around the handle of my blade. The man standing before me had drawn his own blade.

 

"So you're here to kill my cousin then, hmm?" I inquired with a single eyebrow raised. Anger bubbled up in me. Nobody, and I meant nobody, would hurt my cousin on my watch.

 

"Maybe so," the man growled, "but we'll start with you."

 

He lunged at me, using terrible form. I knock his blade aside, and the battle truly began. Metal crashed against metal, as I laid them out one by one. As I struck them, blood flecked onto my gloves. The last man standing was the man who'd started the fight. I forced him to the floor, planting a foot on his chest.

 

"Fuck you, bitch!" he shouted at me. I gave him a dismissive huff, then kicked him solidly in the head. He stopped clawing at my boot, going limp on the floor. I poked my head into Constantin's room, and he jogged over when he noticed me.

 

"Cousin, there's a bit of a mess out here!" I half-shouted to him, "Some people attacked me in the hall. Six dead, one unconscious." Constantin raised an eyebrow, but gave me a smile.

 

"I'll have somebody take care of it. Thank you, fair cousin," he told me. I grinned, waved, and took my leave.

 


 

"...and now I am here. I killed six people and injured a seventh to protect Constantin," she says. During the explanation, she had curled into a ball. Síora cuddles into her side, and Sullivan rests a hand on her shoulder.

 

"Seven against one, my child? Are you sure you aren't injured?" Petrus inquires. Leslie vehemently shakes her head, her hair starting to come undone from the bun it was in. Footsteps clatter on the stairs, and Vasco rounds the corner. He holds a first-aid kit in one hand.

 

"I walked off to grab this as soon as you said how many people you were fighting," he says in response to her confused look. Leslie crosses her arms and rolls her eyes.

 

"Give it to Síora, then. And I'd appreciate it if the rest of you could clear out for a bit."

 

Vasco tosses the first-aid kit to Síora, then he and Kurt excuse themselves to go to the tavern. Aphra says she's going to go foraging, and Petrus offers to go with her. Sullivan decides to go with Aphra and Petrus.

 

Síora opens the kit, before gently removing Leslie's jacket. Her shirt is next, because it's turning red with blood. As she works, humming quietly, she casts a healing spell that slows the bleeding.

 

"Is there anything you want to do?" Síora asks as she's bandaging the final wound. Leslie shrugs before replying with a question of her own, asking, "Could we just sit by the fire together?" Síora nods with a warm smile.

 

The two women relocate to sit on the soft animal skin in front of the fireplace, with Síora having picked up a blanket along the way. She pulls Leslie close, wrapping the blanket against her girlfriend's shoulder.

 

"That was very brave of you, minundhanem. Taking on seven people by yourself to protect your cousin," she says, pressing a kiss to Leslie's cheek.

 

They sit there contentedly as the sun goes down, and the others trickle back in bit by bit.

Notes:

Hit me up on Tumblr at @mb-blue-roses if you want to talk about the Nauts, cry about Constantin, or be gay about Síora with me!

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