Stone Circle Now I am as devoted to you as I can be without crossing the line

vague about details regarding how wounds healed. hoping for a @Laurel but AW

At least one full cycle of the moon’s phases passed since his arrival and Alexander was on the mend; what wounds he once wore were healed and faded, coat filing the spaces back in. There was a quietness about him these days, a self-inflicted lonesomeness that he couldn’t quite overcome. He was there to protect Laurel, to regain his strength and use it to keep her safe—but he was only just starting to regain the weight previously lost and, since arriving, was yet to see her again. Part of him wished to honour his sister’s terms, if only for the fact that she provided him with shelter when he needed it most—but he wondered if, by honouring those terms, he was breaking his promise.

Slowly, Xan abandoned the den he was provided with and made his way through the territory; he needed to stretch his legs and clear his mind, to decide what his next move was.

Laurel had steered clear of Xan; she didn't necessarily want to see him, and she had stuck to herself mostly, which meant she also didn't really have to see Greyback. She was a little worried that the Patriarch (former, she supposed, but titles had never deterred anyone from lashing out in the past) might notice her avoiding him, completely unaware that it was unlikely anyone noticed the deviations that took place in her mind: After all, up until now she had been avoiding most of the pack for a long time, especially since Indra had passed away.

But in Laurel's reality he knew every little inch of her mind. He knew that she was terrified of him ever since he had thrown her saviour out of Easthollow, he knew that she wanted to leave because of that and worst of all: He was going to stop her from leaving. He was going to stop her from leaving, and pin her to the ground --

-- More often than not Iliksis in Laurel's nightmares turned to Greyback and back again. Her children she had abandoned already, for their faces reminded her of him and even though he was dead, he would not leave her alone even in death. She saw him everywhere and he hid in every touch, big and small, that anyone gave her. And so she accepted none of them, trying so hard to banish him from her life, but it proved impossible even though the taste of his very blood was still on the tip of her tongue.

Yet, she was still his prisoner.

And she was Greyback's prisoner, too.

Laurel was lazing by a rock, but not truly lazing; always alert, every littlest sound rousing her from her daydreams, eyes shot wide open to find there was nothing time and time again.

This time as her eyes shot open and she gasped there was the thin form of Xan. He was walking again, then. Laurel hadn't forgotten what she had asked him, and a part of her still believed that he could make good on that promise. But what if he could not protect her? And what if he...

The memories she had with Xan were soiled by the filter of blood and pain that Iliksis had layered over every aspect of her life. She was afraid as she saw him, but she was even more afraid of Greyback. Gathering all of the courage she could muster Laurel chuffed towards him. She got to her feet then, not wanting to be caught on the ground where she was an easy target, and waited with tense muscles for him to come.

Walking was not yet an easy task, body resistant; he was feeling better, healing, but he went so long hardly moving that he was needing to reteach his muscles what it meant to get around. Concentrating on the task at hand, every ounce of focus put into walking, he did not notice Laurel. Only when she chuffed did his head snap up, gaze leaving the ground and focusing on her. Initially, his tail started to wag slowly and he shifted his direction to head towards her—but he never quite reached her. His sister’s voice echoed through his head, as did hers, from back when he first visited Easthollow in search of her. Those voices, loud and insistent, made his entire body still some distance away from her; his tail stopped wagging and he averted his gaze, looking back towards the ground.

“I can go somewhere else if you want…?” he offered, wanting to give her, her space. But… if he gave her too much space, would he still be able to protect her? He wanted to talk to her—there was so much he wanted to say—but, at the same time, he didn’t want to push her.

Laurel wasn't sure what it was that she expected of Xan, what she wanted. Other than protection. But he was a male and so she distrusted him as well, as she would any male, least of all one that she knew for sure her suspicions were true. He would not choose her at all, he would choose with other instincts than the ones she longed for. Had she still had Indra she would not need Xan but here he was, and Indra was nowhere to be seen because she died. She wondered if he knew, but then her mind flashed back to when she'd found Indra. He had been there. She could not help but wonder if he had anything to do with it, made her this, broke her like this, just so that he could catch her now that she was weak.

He offered to leave, a question that was far too complex to really answer at all. Laurel looked taken aback at the question and she hesitated for the answer. Why are you here? She wasn't looking to hear that he was here to recover, because he simply had nowhere else to go; why was he here? Why was he really here?

There was a moment of silence between them, his ears folding back with uncertainty. Would she demand that he leave? Anticipation bore anxiety and he opened his mouth to say something, then promptly shut it when she posed a question of her own—something he was asked before, something he was previously unable to bring himself to answer. But that former inability was the result of the wrong person asking him and now… now it was the right one—

—“For you,” he breathed, nervous. “I’m here for you. To—to fix what I fucked up.” That was all he wanted, all he could think about when he was alone in the wilderness.

It confused Laurel when he said that he was here for her. For her? Why would he come back for her? He had made it perfectly clear in the past what he thought of her. She wasn't sure if she trusted him; what if he was lying? What if he didn't really want her after all? She was afraid that he might turn around and betray her. What if it was all another string of mind games? Laurel was done with being reliant on anyone. She was her own wolf now.

But if he was truthful in some way, if he really wanted to fix what he had fucked up, then maybe she could use him as a tool. She couldn't allow herself to fall for him -- she couldn't allow herself to fall for any man ever again, and that resolve had strengthened now that Indra was gone -- but she could use him and make sure that he protected her from other men, such as Greyback.

After a silence of maybe a second or ten, Laurel said: How are you going to fix that? She could always put ideas into his mind later; but for now, she was curious how he was going to suggest solutions on his own accord.

How are you going to fix that?

It was a question that ran through his head constantly, always being asked but never answered. He didn’t know how to fix it or if it even could be fixed—but he needed to at least try, even if only to remind himself he did when his mistakes came back around to haunt him again, if it ever stopped currently. But it was his turn to keep quiet, allowing several seconds of silence to surround them. Yet, it was only when he stopped thinking so hard that the answer came to him with ease, as if it’d been waiting all this time to finally appear.

“By staying,” he decided. “By not leaving again. By giving you everything you deserve in life, everything I should have in the valley.” Regret could not be entirely removed from his tone, lingering throughout his words. “I’m only here for you, Laurel. I wasn’t worried about dying during the famine until I thought of you,” he continued, words rolling from his tongue and him unable to look away from her. “Whatever you want, I’ll do it. Whatever you need, I’ll get it. I just want... I just want to make you happy.” Thinking of someone other than himself was still a new concept, something he wasn’t yet sure he felt comfortable with—but she was worth any and all discomfort, even if all that came out of it was his continued allowance to stay in the same pack as her.

Honestly, Laurel wasn't expecting a whole lot of anything from Xan. If she had learned anything in her life it was that everyone always left and that nobody stuck to their words. Nobody ever changed, no matter how hard they wanted to. Indra was the only one that she had had in her life who was worth anything, and she had been ripped from Laurel's side far too early. She had nothing now and she didn't care about anything. She didn't even care about her own children, so why would she care about Xan's weak peace offerings?

But maybe the fact that she had nothing to live for was what made it so easy to decide to accept his offers and to decide that she could use someone like him. She was not sure if she needed or wanted him in any way for love. She had loved him once, but since then everything had started to unravel and she had started to wonder if she really knew what love even was.

But it was undeniable that there was something in the devotion those words carried that turned on a part of her she thought she had long buried. The part that had once shouted at him that she loved him and the part that had been angry at him for a long time for abandoning her and their children.

Now none of them were left, all gone, some left and some dead. She didn't even remember where Piper had gone. She didn't even remember when Piper had gone.

Laurel's face twitched in anticipation as she tried to consider what he was saying.

She knew she shoudn't second guess these kind of things, these kind of peace offerings, but still she could not help but say --

Why?

-- Because that was the thought that plagued her the most.

She was a broken thing, she had no one left. If anyone to latch onto for such a broken wretch such as himself, then why pick another like him? Why not pick someone that had anything to offer?

He didn’t know what to expect, whether it be acceptance or shouts—but the why that left her mouth wasn’t even on the list of possibilities. There was a moment of silence, his weight shifting back and forth with discomfort, whilst he struggled to grasp his thoughts. Wasn’t the why as obvious as the day was bright? “You know why,” was the first thing he said, gaze averted. Didn’t she know? And if he didn’t, then what? Drawing in a deep breath, he raised his head to better look at her, gaze seeking out her own.

“Because I care about you,” were the next words spoken. But it wasn’t that simple—things never were. To care for someone was one thing but Xan… “No, that’s not entirely true,” came next, added with a slow shake of his head. That wasn’t the entirety of it, only a portion. “Laurel, I love you. That’s why I came back. That’s why I’m here now.” Love was a foreign emotion to the Apaata, more so than he was willing to admit. But there was no other word he could match with how he felt other than that—even after everything, he still found comfort in her presence, in knowing that she would be there. He still saw her as his friend, the last of few, and perhaps the best of them all. Love was all he could use to explain himself, it was what kept him coming back.

Stop playing games, Xan, she thought wordlessly when he said that she already knew why. She didn't understand, especially after his crystal clear rejection back when, why he had returned. His enfeebled state helped reduce her fear somewhat, and the fact that he would defend her from others that might try to harm her. She swallowed difficulty as she stared at him, waiting to find out if he would say any more.

And he had more words, as they came and poured over her. Because he cared about her, no, because --

-- He loved her.

He loved her.

Too late, it was all too late. Why hadn't he figured this out so long ago, when she needed him? Why did he come here now, after everything that had happened? Maybe he could have fixed her, maybe he could have -- no, men are trash -- but maybe, just maybe, maybe --

Maybe if he had come before Iliksis.

He hadn't defended her then. Who was to say he would again? When Greyback came for her? When another male decided that he could just take what he wanted? Indra was the only one that had been there for her, always, and she was gone.

If that is how you treat things you love, then it's worth piss all, Laurel said, her eyes shining with withheld emotion, and she turned away from him, ears flattened against her skull.

Quivered words came forth after she turned her back to him, as if it took great effort to speak them, I hate you for what you did to me

for what you let him do

for not being there to protect me then

I can't do this.

Your words are empty. Prove you mean them and we'll see.

Strong words for a woman so weak and afraid.

She walked away from him, and all the while the voice in the back of her head whispered,

what are you DOING he's going to jump you didn't you SEE the look in his eyes you. are. SO. dumb. no wonder he managed to take you like that DON'T LET YOUR GUARD DOWN your back is unprotected what are you doing --

you deserved it

you deserved it.

you let it happen.

i'd love another!

When she spoke back, his ears fell flat against his skull. He didn’t expect to be believed—and yet, hearing her words still stung. It hurt to not be wanted, to not be accepted. But, most of all, it hurt that she didn’t believe him; if only she knew every inch of his mind, had visited the depths and resurfaced again. Would she understand better? No—if she visited those places, she’d hate him more. She’d hate him for everything he was, everything he wasn’t—for everything that happened, for every moment of his past. For his declaration to protect her when he’d never been able to even protect himself.

“I know,” he croaked out when she stated her hatred, head hanging, defeated. But what followed, the challenge to prove his words, made him wonder if maybe he still stood a chance. Could things change for the better…? His head snapped up and he stared after her but his mind ran blank, not another word to leave his mouth. He kept still and watched after her, following her movements, now fueled by what ounce of hope he was given.