[attr="class","bodygoldr"]
[break]


She still remembers, remembers the horror of Freya's fall. Emma hadn't been there, she had been too slow, too distracted with other business that she wasn't there when Freya needed her the most.[break][break]

The raw panic, the terror, the despair as the news hit the streets, gossip spread like wildfire.[break][break]

Freya Morningstar in the hospital with life-threatening injuries. Will she wake up?[break][break]

And she wasn't allowed to visit her, she wasn't a relative and their relationship was a secret and all she could do was watch through closed doors, fingers ice cold with the fear that she may never see her again.[break][break]

The moment Freya had woken up she had felt her heart restart again, felt that nauseating wash of relief. A piece of her had laid dormant and deceased until her reawakening, her revival.[break][break]

Emma Wolfe was the one who whisked away Freya Morningstar and Lyune. She had been the one who rescued her from the incapable hands, the disgust, the doubt that she didn't need. She was safer wrapped in her arms.[break][break]

Sometimes she wonders if she's made a mistake, if perhaps she would have been safer and better taken care of if she'd left her with the League. She can't mend a broken leg, can't mend Lyune's broken spirit.[break][break]

She had been caught in between the disagreements between Freya and her dragon, she had been the one brave enough to take the stand and protect the both of them. Anything to protect Freya.[break][break]

Freya's beautiful silver hair has turned black. Emma's hands remained stained with the dye for days after she'd run her fingers through it.[break][break]

And still she stays by her side. Her personal missions were halted so that she could remain by Freya's side. Nothing mattered anymore but to keep her safe.[break][break]

But were either of them really alive anymore?

[attr="class","bodygoldr"]
[break]


While she might not be recognizable to herself, to Emma she is the most beautiful thing in the world.[break][break]

Her lips are set in a thin line, her jaw set and aching. Her hands are balled into fists as she buries them into the warm fur of Eris' back. The Noivern's powerful and wide wings outstretched, scooping the air underneath them. It feels as if they're gliding on air, untouchable.[break][break]

Emma glances over her shoulder, the wind tugging her hair around her neck as she checks on the supplies tied off on the dragon's back legs. It's carefully stacked and not overly heavy to prevent strain on the beast. [break][break]

This time she's recovered packages of food, it's unclear whether it's stolen or not, but it's now under Emma's control and being delivered to a discreet and distant island. To Freya.[break][break]

With one hand she pulls the hair from her mouth and closes her eyes as Noivern makes her decline, tilting her wings as they grow closer to the island. The pair break through the clouds and appear, and she slowly and expertly sets the delivery down before landing.[break][break]

"Stay still, Eris."[break][break]

She whispers as she unties her load, allowing the Noivern to take off and disappear to wherever she would prefer to be. Emma releases Hades to help her carry the goods inside to unpack.[break][break]

There's a stillness in the house that automatically makes her on edge. She can't hear Freya wandering around the house, she can't hear the soft creak of the floor beneath her feet.[break][break]

She drops what she's carrying to race to the bedroom, or the small area deemed the bedroom. There she finds Freya lying quietly and Emma breaths a sigh of relief as she pauses to just watch her.[break][break]

Eventually she herself crawls down to press close to the woman, cocooning her in her arms.[break][break]

"I love you, Freya."

[attr="class","bodygoldr"]
[break]


It breaks her heart to see Freya this way, her spirit so broken and defeated and without motivation or drive. She was no longer the regal princess, the powerful leader, the woman who would have single-handed retaken Hoenn. What curls deeper into her arms is a woman who nearly died and has since remained afraid, unwilling to try again. It's heartbreaking.[break][break]

She squeezes her, but not too tight, afraid the woman might break. When she pulls away she brushes her thumb against her cheek slowly. Her skin feels so papery and thin, it had lost its luster and softness. But still, Emma puts a smile on her face.[break][break]

Her hand soon drops as she allows Freya her space, unwilling to push the woman's boundaries and make her uncomfortable. Her response to her simple statement hurts, perhaps unreasonably so. Perhaps Emma is selfish, wanting more than Freya can possibly give.[break][break]

Freya soon changes the topic, inquiring about the supplies. Emma gets back to her feet and turns to head back for the boxes. She kneels down next to them, snapping open the crates and tossing aside the debris, revealing softer blankets and fresh fruit.[break][break]

"I planted a garden, not on the island. This place is a curse, nothing grows. It's been several months of waiting, especially now that the season is changing.. but we have something at least. Perhaps they're immature harvests but I feared the frost would kill them."[break][break]

In carefully packed wraps there was a various harvest of fruits and vegetables. It was meager, but Emma had survived on less. For the most part, what she brought home was for Freya.[break][break]

"You're welcome to any of it."

[attr="class","bodygoldr"]
[break]


For a long time she holds onto a small potato, turning it in her hand and appearing far-away or distant as dirt falls between her fingers. [break][break]

Freya speaks and she drops the potato, letting it roll off the ends of her fingers and bounce back into the crate. She turns to gaze at the woman and the question she asks. Is she being safe? Not usually.[break][break]

"Yes, I'm always safe."[break][break]

A lie, in part, but she doesn't dare admit that she's still battling demons that convince her death should come to her painfully in atonement for her sins. [break][break]

She feels Freya curl into her again and she instinctively wraps her arms around her, chin resting on the woman's head as she breathed in her scent. She no longer smelled the same, she had long since stopped using the product and perfume that changed it's smell to compliment her natural one. She smelled musty and old, like the blankets so tattered that she curls up with. She smells sick and tired and.. wrong.[break][break]

"You don't have to worry about me, I always come back to you."[break][break]

Emma disregards her promise to help put the produce away, instead holding her closer.[break][break]

"It's alright, I can handle it, Frey."

[attr="class","bodygoldr"]
[break]

The wind still rips through the building from time to time, there's loose buckets that often catch rainwater as it spills inside. They'd learned to keep their food off of the ground along with their other most precious items. Emma had learned how to do makeshift repairs but they weren't perfect. She was a hunter, not a repairman.[break][break]

She can see Freya's waterproof backpack, packed with supplies needed to come back to reality, to help her hunt, to come with her, laying on it's side on the makeshift table. It's been untouched since she brought it home.[break][break]

Home.. as if this were anything like a home. Emma had never known home, but this certainly felt the least like any of the places she had ever stayed.[break][break]

Freya's attention turns away from her to gaze out the window. Two of her dragons had returned with fish. However, they had attracted an unwanted guest in a temperamental Lyune. She can feel Freya's panic as she pulls away, tugs on a sweater and searches for her cane.[break][break]

Hades fetches it for her, returning quickly and holding her steady. His gaze locks onto Emma's and he can see the firm line between her lips, the anger, the frustration.[break][break]

"I'll deal with him this time. He's dangerous."[break][break]

She storms out the back door, leaving it wide open. The wind tugs at her hair, pulling it across her face. There's a rage in her eyes as she calls out.[break][break]

"Lyune that is enough. There is plenty enough to go around. If you're so fucking hungry, how about you lend a hand?"[break][break]

Of course, she's probably aware that she's being unfair, that Lyune probably can't fly, that he can't help himself. But still, she barbs her words with poison with the intent to hurt him, because he's hurt her and Freya too many times.[break][break]

Eris screams from the sky, circling from above, waiting to intervene and protect Emma and the two Dragonair. She's been through this routine before, she isn't afraid of the brute.

[nospaces]

[attr="class","bodygoldr"]
[break]

Hades' fur is warm but coarse. He had never been the type of companion that was comfortable to cuddle into. He had never been graced with that sort of capacity, nor had he ever yearned for it. Even this small bout of affection, of closeness, is enough to make him uncomfortable. But still he stays still, careful not to move, not to jostle her, because he knows better than to show his discomfort.[break][break]
All that matters is her and Emma.[break][break]

His body tenses both when the door slams shut because of the wind, and because Freya abandons his side to fly to the door. He can smell her fear, he can smell Lyune's confusion and Emma's rage. She's so angry, so confused, so full of pain and fear and it's all so much.[break][break]

And his hackles raise in response to Lyune's aggression. In that moment, he would throw himself in front of her to be eaten if it meant keeping her safe. But Freya's Dragonair coil in front of her, protecting her, and he isn't sure whether to step in anymore. He's been replaced by larger, stronger Pokemon. Pokemon who can actually stand a chance.[break][break]

Emma's eyes are wild with anger as the dragon turns on her. She knows she's not indestructible and yet she isn't afraid of him, not really. Her fear stems from the vast unknown, the inability to fix him. She's never understood why he acts this way, why he suddenly turns into a spiral of rage and hate and confusion. She's never understood how Pokemon operate, how similar to humans they truly are.[break][break]

He thrashes, angry that his one wing doesn't raise with the other, and he seems confused yet again that he can't fly. That he's stuck here endlessly, stuck on this disgusting, wet, cold island and there's nothing he can do about it. [break][break]

Freya's voice distracts Emma and she instinctively steps in front of her to guard her, unsure whether Lyune would attack. He's done it before, he would do it again. He's unpredictable, messy.[break][break]

"Freya, don't--"[break][break]

She starts but is relieved to see the beast submit, his body shrinking as he accepts their authority, recognizes their scent. Perhaps it's the salt in the air that distracts and disorients him. It confuses Emma always.[break][break]

Emma snatches the fish from the Dragonite, perhaps too aggressively. She's angry but she can't voice it, she can't pick up her emotions, they just keep falling between her fingers. She doesn't know what's eating her up inside, and she's angry that she can't help herself.[break][break]

"He's relaxed, I'll go deal with the fish."[break][break]

She's curt, she's aching, she wants to be alone, she thinks.