freya stares down at her assistant - her ginger hair spills over sterile sheets, a rumpled hospital gown. freya's own hands, palms flecked with gold, run along the grain of gishath's rough scales. standard procedures should have kept freya away from her assistant, with privacy laws and all that, but the staff had realized quickly that if they were going to check in on gwen regularly, they'd need someone to help subdue her guard dragon. 

freya teases the sleeping dragon's lips up, checking for the tenth time that his teeth are actually there. every once in a while, she rubs her thumb over a nicked piece of flesh, a scar that makes it absolutely certain that this is the dragon she remembers, made stronger by bond. 

and by dire situation. 

she's no doubt ana could give gwen an arm like her own, but to see the loss, to see a person she's come to care about so mangled...

i should have been here sooner. 

her stomach twists again. she'd been sent out to ever grande, not dewford, but she's here now. gauze still smatters the bits of her that aren't herself. the blood has been cleaned from her hair, but every few hours she needs to put an ointment on the top of her skull where the horns protrude from. 

gishath shifts on the bed and freya lifts her head back up, not realizing she'd dozed off. 

"gwen? are you awake?"

Gwendolyn Conway

☉

freya is no stranger to self-loathing or the manifestations that come with it, especially when your psyche has been battered over and over again with such relentless tenacity. so it is not confusion that furrows her brows or spurs her to action, but understanding and immediate concern. 

she rises, ghosting to gwen's side, perching carefully on the side of her bed - away from the cords and her iv drips, the thick bandages around the remains of her arm. leaning in only after gwen finishes speaking, she cradles her cheek, the side of her head, and kisses her upon her brow. 

guilt crawls along her insides. she wasn't supposed to be there. but how many numbers could she account for? how many people were thrown haphazardly in the shuffle according to ranking and battle prowess, their names barely given a second glance as the forefront commanded every ounce of her attention. 

"you did not fail," she says firmly. i did. "not me, not gishath, not anyone else."

Gwendolyn Conway

☉

she smiles. it's a small win, in the grand scheme of things, and freya maintains contact while gwen talks. she fidgets with her hair, brushing strays away, reminding her in any way she can that she is cared for. that freya is here and gwen is going to be okay. 

"you were so brave," she says softly. ghishath pulls freya's attention away, but that's okay, because seeing the dragon in such high spirits will be good for gwen too. freya thumbs the side of his mouth, ready to show gwen the garchomp's new set of teeth, but the smile wipes clean from her face at her assistant's last question.

"gwen, it's okay." she puts a careful hand on her shoulder to steady her. calm her. i know someone who can fix it. but she can't say that right now, not with a wound so fresh, a piece of her gone. 

"you did so good, gwen. it's going to be okay."

Gwendolyn Conway

☉

it starts to piece together. freya doesn't remove her hand, not when gwen might need an anchor. her assistant thinks through all the painkillers moving sluggishly through her veins and freya's whole chest aches with sympathy, empathy, and guilt.

this loss needs to be felt, so she does not assuage her with more empty words like it is okay. she wasn't lying before; it will be okay, but for it to be okay, gwen will need to brave her grief. she will need to feel her losses. 

"you're alive, gwen," she whispers because that is the most important thing, but the machines start beeping and freya worries what the newly evolved garchomp might do it he gets too distressed. 

"nurse?" she calls, voice level, calm in the face of her friend's panic. 

"we're not going anywhere. i'm not going anywhere. gishath isn't going anywhere. you stood by him when he lost his teeth, remember? he'll do the same for you. gwen, listen to me, please."

Gwendolyn Conway

☉

waiting for her to wake after she's forced under again is an agonizing endeavor for freya. she spends much of her time with her head in her hands, eyes open to stare at the floor, because every time she blinks she sees gwen's panicked face ripe with grief and loss. 

she is assured a handful of times by various nurses that the shock is normal and that everything is okay, but nothing about it is okay. 

gwen is a child. 

and this war has disfigured her. 

when gwen stirs, freya is back by her side in an instant, unflinching as she digs her fingers into freya's arm. she tries to keep the worry off her face, but the result is a hardened stare of disbelief as gwen begs her not to be cast aside. 

"you think i could do this without you?" she says incredulously and puts a hand over gwen's own, squeezing hard. "you're not a mistake. i don't want to erase you. gwen, you're one of the hardest working people i know and if anything, i thought i was going to have to be an asshole and find a way to make you stay."

Gwendolyn Conway

☉

freya does not point out that she hired gwen to manage her meetings and file her paperwork, not save her from the jaws of death that come snapping at her heels every once in a while. she knows she asks too much of her, even if it's done so by ignorance; she does not complain when she finds her coffee miraculously refilled, or lunches waiting in the fridge (or on her desk, when she forgets too many times in a row). 

pride swims in her when she finally lays eyes on her evolved dragon. the garchomp is healthy as ever, with fresh teeth, and though gwen might not understand how deep their bond runs, freya can see it clear as day. the dragon admires his trainer, and his loyalty is as deep as lyune's is to freya. 

the draconid tucks a lock of hair behind gwen's ear, careful not to skew her glasses, and promises, "i'll be back to check on you soon, okay? i have a few more rounds to make, but gishath will take good care of you."

and quietly, before she leaves, she says, "thank you, gwen. for everything."

Gwendolyn Conway

☉