Lyra squeezed her eyelids shut until stars danced within the darkness of her vision. Rhea did not seem disturbed by her embrace, keeping her arms wrapped around her back without a word of comfort offered. Something in the back of Lyra's mind tickled with glee when seconds stretched on without a single platitude given. It was familiar; Rhea's stillness in the face of maddening grief was a form of solace in itself. If not for the closeness between them and Lyra's ear attuned to the pattern of Rhea's breaths, she would have thought her dearest friend wasn't breathing at all. 

Nevertheless, it was a steadying feeling to be held by someone devoted to keeping their composure so another did not have to. Lyra turned her head, pressing her cheek against  Rhea's chest as she breathed in slowly and let the grief flow out of her parted lips.  Corded muscle tightened around her waist, fastening her close to contours of Rhea's body while her fingers twisted in the back of Rhea's tunic and pulled taut for leverage. Throughout the crests and troughs of her weeping, Rhea remained unwaveringly steadfast in keeping her upright.

Lyra puffed a wet laugh, ignoring the questioning hum rumbling low in Rhea's chest. This would not be the first time such sadness threatened to overwhelm her, of that she was certain, but she wondered if Rhea would hold her like this again should the tide threaten to take her under.

Once the tremors in her body quelled, Lyra drew back enough to catch the stray teardrops clinging to her eyelashes with the curve of her finger. "My apologies," she whispered, mustering a half-restrained titter when she lowered her hand. "We haven't even touched our dinner, I hope it hasn't gone cold."

Her breath caught as warmth enveloped her cheek; eyelashes fluttering with a few quick blinks when a light pressure tipped her chin upward. Rhea's eyes narrowed, and Lyra fought to keep herself from recoiling from the scrutiny of her fierce gaze. Despite the years between their last meeting, withstanding the full brunt of Rhea's attention was inconceivable. She had always been a terribly quick study, and wholly devout to a cause once her mind set upon it. Somehow, it was the cruelest and kindest part of her; one Lyra could not help but despise and admire all at once. 

She had no words to give to Rhea's stare, and slanted her gaze aside to the hazy sight of the hand cupping her cheek. "If you continue watching me this closely, I won't be able to think otherwise," Lyra told her, half-convinced of her playfulness though the surety in those words crept upon her. Once again, she found herself distracted by the memory of a gallant rider soaring across the plains and into the temperate forest surrounding Galdena. 

Perhaps it was the part of her still possessing a girlish heart, enamored with the stories she'd read in her mother's library of dauntless heroes who rode upon horseback to save those unable to protect themselves. Lyra knew she was far from helpless, but the vision of the rider made her selfishly consider what it would be like to have such a brave soul devote themselves to her. Placing such an expectation upon Rhea would be inappropriate though, she reminded herself inwardly. 

A line which could not be crossed if she wished to preserve this tentative companionship between them. Yet, as she leaned into the calloused palm and mulled over how comforting it was against her skin, her soul burned with wonder. 

"If I allow you a moment to think," Rhea started, and Lyra glanced up with a considering eyebrow raised. The harshness in Rhea's gaze was not as biting as it felt upon first glance, but her eyes narrowed further and brokered no attempt to hide. "You will only use it to find a clever way to avoid my question."

Lyra bit down on the inside of her cheek to avoid cursing. She'd been caught, and the worst part of such a thing was that if she did look away then it would be as good as admittance. She wrinkled her nose and raised her chin defiantly, a frown crooking upon her lips as she stated, "There is nothing to avoid seeing as you haven't asked anything yet, dear Rhea."

It was Rhea's turn to seem taken aback, though the surprise did not last long on her handsome features. "Then, allow me to rectify this," Rhea told her, and Lyra inclined her head in a barely-there nod. "What can I do for you, Lyra?"

That question was enough to render Lyra silent; stricken with the enormity of allowances such an offer gave her, there was nothing she could do but stare in return. Silence fell around them in a veil which was simultaneously thick and thin. The snapping flames within the hearth were muted to Lyra's ears, though she knew they were there. Delighted surprise filled her upon stepping into the cabin to see the firestones she'd left had been put to good use. While she hadn't expected Rhea to be the one to use them, knowing her proclivities toward tradition, it had been nice to know she was taken care of. 

But the joy was short-lived when she'd noticed how empty the room felt. Even with Rhea so close to her side, it felt as if she were hovering upon being a stranger within her home. Lyra pressed her lips together in a small frown, and let her eyes fall to the hollow of Rhea's throat then further on. 

She could hear the smooth, soft sound of Rhea's breathing as though it were right against her eardrums. Her heartbeat's strong yet delicate beating fluttered when Lyra brushed her fingers against the discolored patches where her tears dampened Rhea's tunic. Two beats, firmer and louder than Lyra expected caught her off guard when she pressed her fingertips firmly against the cloth. How could such a fragile, jumpy heart belong to someone with such a reserved face?   

"You—" Lyra gasped, stopping short with a shake of her head. What more could she have asked from Rhea when she'd returned safely? More so, the lack of being able to do anything might have wounded her pride. It was not as though Rhea possessed the ability to restore Aethelu's vitality; her concern was at most that of a friend empathizing with another's grief. Cold comfort, a facsimile of the daydream her youthful heart yearned for, but one Lyra could meet with a smile. 

"You silly thing," Lyra giggled, drawing upon the power stirring beneath her skin as she pulled the moisture from Rhea's tunic drop by drop. A small, twisting ball of moisture hovered at the tip of her fingernail and with a flick of her wrist, it hurtled toward the hearth where the flames devoured and turned it to steam without delay. 

Lyra laid her hand over Rhea's heart, smoothing the invisible wrinkles in the dried cloth with a pat. She turned her face up, catching the awe and wonder in Rhea's eyes when their gaze met. It made her seem so young, and Lyra couldn't help but giggle again.  

"You needn't do anything but share a meal with me," she said, cupping her hand around  the one caressing her cheek. "That is more than enough."

"I disagree," Rhea said, but let the matter fall with a sigh as she withdrew her hand from Lyra's. "But if that is what you wish in this moment, I do not mind."

Rhea rescinded the warmth of her presence and the touch of her hand with a backward step before sweeping past Lyra. Lyra turned on her heel, following Rhea with not only her eyes but her body. Surprise swelled in her chest with a dull ache at the thought of her friend's crossness, and she considered what to say to alleviate the tension between them. Her thoughts fizzled out when wood dragged against the floor, and she noticed Rhea standing behind her chair with a hand resting on its back and an expectant look. 

"Come," Rhea said when Lyra had yet to move toward her. Recognition welled up inside of Lyra as the gesture's plainness became apparent, and some of her mirth returned with another giggle. This time, she cupped her hands around her mouth as she laughed to hide the extent of her smile and the quiver of her lips. At times, Rhea's straightforwardness could be refreshing in its unexpectedness. 

Lyra wasted little time, and followed Rhea's lead in sitting down on the offered chair. She thanked Rhea with a smile and nod when she pushed the chair in closer to the table. The gesture returned with an acknowledging grunt before Rhea took up her place on the other side. It was a mimicry of their earlier positions, but now something felt different as Rhea reached out to uncover the bowls with tenderness in her eyes at the contents within.

It felt like forgiveness. 

Lyra blinked away the tears in her eyes, and offered one of the serving spoons to Rhea before taking up another for herself. Together, they plied their plates with beds of sparkling white rice, cubed bites of savory spiced meat, soft stewed carrots and potatoes covered in a slightly sweet roux. Once her plate was filled, Lyra set the serving spoon aside and took up a dinner spoon whilst sneaking a peek at Rhea who stared down at her plate with determination. 

Lyra wondered what she could have been thinking of so deeply until she noticed the quick little turns of Rhea's plate, and how her eyes flicked from side to side as if sizing up an enemy.

Is she trying to find the best way to eat her food? 

Lyra pursed her lips in a poor attempt to stifle a laugh, covering her mouth with the back of her hand when Rhea glanced up from her food. Her widened eyes shuttered slightly, flitting over Lyra with an unspoken question Choking back her laughter, she managed to speak evenly, "I was wondering how long will you be staying."

"I am not sure," Rhea said puzzledly, as if she were within a daze and had not considered the idea of departing at all. Lyra ignored the fluttering in her chest, catching the moment awareness filled Rhea's eyes as she locked their gazes with resolution. "Once my business is done, I will need return to the capital." 

Lyra nodded, caring precious little for the destruction of her wanton daydream of Rhea living within the village once more. It suited her friend to ever face the horizon in pursuit of what she desired. Mindlessly scooping a spoonful of rice and vegetables, Lyra smiled to herself as she said, "I expected nothing more."

The tense line of Rhea's shoulders slackened, but several breaths passed before she returned to scraping at her plate. Lyra peered beneath her lashes, chewing slowly as she watched Rhea eat vigorously. Was she not receiving proper meals in the Capital? Or was she so taken with her training that she'd forgotten the voracity of her appetite? Then, there was the nature of this mission she spoke of. Why would her superiors send her alone, unknighted and without supplies?

Lyra tucked her fist beneath her chin, balancing the spoon on her lips. Her empty hand toyed with the folds of her skirts, brushing and tucking them aside as she watched the thick, dusky coils of Rhea's hair fall over her eyes.  "Is this mission dangerous?" She asked, pushing her hand down against her thigh to stop its kneading. 

Rhea paused in mid-raise, glancing up from her plate. "I do not know yet," she said, lowering her spoon. Her eyes flicked back and forth across Lyra's face, seeming to settle upon something as she abandoned her spoon in her dish and straightened her posture. Lyra's eyes widened at the deep furrow creasing Rhea's forehead as she stated in a solemn tone, "If it is, you have my word that I will not allow harm to be brought to your people." 

Lyra blinked, then rolled her eyes to the roof. "Rhea," she started, gathering all of the patience she could muster whilst lowering her eyes to meet the hardened stare almost begging for reproach. "Has it been so long that you've forgotten you are one of my people?"

The stoniness in Rhea's gaze fractured with splinters and cracks chiseling away at the veneer keeping Lyra from seeing the woman beneath. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling when the Rhea of six years ago reared her head, clumsy in her hasty refusal, "Of course not," then wetting her lips as she searched for a foothold. 

"But you mustn't show partiality, Lyra."

Lyra laughed, sharp and short at those words. "Is it partial to adhere to what is promised?" She leant forward when Rhea's mouth opened, and leaned upon her bridged fingers with a smirk curling the corner of her lips. "I swore to protect you, and while you may be strong enough to defend yourself, that promise remains."

In the corner of her eye, the glare of the axe housed above the fireplace beckoned her to remember. She looked down to Rhea's hands, calloused yet strong with faint scars around their backs and peeking beneath the sleeves of her tunic. It'd been ages since she'd last seen Rhea hold a weapon but she imagined the axe let alone any other weapon would be well at home in her hands. Yet, there were things not even brute strength could fell. 

Lyra closed her eyes as she imagined Rhea tromping through the Wood without protection, and her heart thudded painfully against her ribcage. "If there is any way at all that I may be of assistance to you, you need only speak your desire," she said, opening her eyes to the Rhea seated before her, safe and whole. "And if it is within my power, then I will accommodate."

She gently tipped her chin against her fingers, slanting her viewpoint of Rhea and the way the firelight glowed against her cheeks.  "Does that simplify matters, dearest?" Lyra asked, chuckling when Rhea glanced aside with a heavy sigh. 

She thinned her lips, clicking her tongue disapprovingly as she dryly stated, "You are stubborn as always."

"As are you," countered Lyra, pulling back and taking up her spoon with the light-hearted elated feeling of having won the day. 

Rhea took up her spoon as well, after considering Lyra from the corner of her eye for a long moment. "The village is in mourning, and I won't impose more than I have."

Lyra frowned, the roux bittering on her tongue. She swallowed, not quite tasting her food but needing to free her mouth for the battle at hand. Rhea raised a hand to stop her mid-breath, seeming crossed as she studied Lyra's face then lowered it to rest against the table. "But I will… consider it. Should I require your assistance."

Lyra pursed her lips, but nodded. It seemed as good of a compromise as they would come to, all things considered. Compromise reached, they returned to their respective dishes and conversed over the clink of spoons until Rhea excused herself to fetch water from the well behind the house. When she returned, and their cups were filled, there was a wariness about her as she took up her chair. 

Lyra offered an encouraging smile over the rim of her cup after offering her thanks, though she had no way of telling what weighed so heavily upon Rhea's mind now. The act itself seemed encouraging enough as Rhea cupped her hands atop the table while Lyra sipped patiently.